"A Portkey?" Harry asked, ever the uninformed one. If only he hadn't been raised by the Dursleys. Maybe then he wouldn't have to ask a question every fucking time someone mentioned a magical item or creature. Oh well. At least he was getting used to it.
"It's an item that's been enchanted so that it can magically transport anyone touching it." Hermione said. Well, Ron and Hermione were definitely two things for Harry to be grateful for. They were, without question, Harry's best friends. Harry could always have a good time with the both of them. Anyways, if this portkey whatchamacallit would be taking him back to Hogwarts, then Harry was definitely down for it.
All of the Weaslies were making the trek over the hills and golden colored grass, and Harry and Hermione, had they not been so accustomed to it, would have felt like outsiders in the great mass of red hair. Arthur stopped suddenly at the top of the hill and exclaimed happily. Harry took that to mean they had located the portkey. Harry climbed the aforementioned hill and saw that they would not be the only ones at the portkey. Arthur was talking to some man, but Harry was not listening. Instead he was ogling the magnificently built boy that the man was traveling with. He had such smooth and seductive skin. And those muscles! Lean and powerful. His hair was magnificent, the most wonderful shade of brown that turned nearly red in the sunlight. His eyes were a smoky grey that nearly sent Harry's mind into a fog. Harry continued to stare embarrassingly at the boy until he finally realized that the man was addressing him.
"Merlin's Beard! Harry? Harry Potter?" The man said. Did he hear his name was Amos?
"Er… Yeah?" Harry said lamely.
"Ced's talked about you, of course, told us all about playing against you… I said to him, I said – Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren that will… you beat Harry Potter!" Amos said. Cedric Diggory. Of course. Harry recognized him from the beginning, but was certainly thrown off by. Well. Cedric's hotness. Cedric couldn't have just gotten that sexy over the summer. Maybe it was just now that Harry was catching on. After all, Harry was just getting used to the idea that he could like guys. He didn't even want to tell Ron or Hermione, despite knowing they would never judge him for it, just because he was so unsure of it himself. But if being gay meant being attracted to this, then Harry was gayer than the fourth of July*.
"Harry fell off his broom, dad." Cedric says. He sounds exhausted with his father. "It was an accident." Harry silently thanked Cedric, because Harry was much to lost inside his own mind to offer a response. Not that he could have given one if he had a clear head. How was one to respond to something like that?
"Yes, but you didn't fall of did you?" Amos says, ignoring his sons obvious desire to change topics. "Always modest our Ced, always the gentlemen… But the best man won, I'm sure that Harry, would say the same, wouldn't you eh? One falls off his broom, one stays on, you didn't need to be a genius to tell which ones the better flier!" Cedric stared daggers into his father's head while Mr. Weasly continued to ogle his watch, as if it had all the precious secrets of the world written in code on its face. Arthur Weasly finally said something to do with time, and asked Mr. Diggory if anyone else was coming, but Harry stopped listening after that, opting instead to wrack his brains for something, anything to say to Cedric. But apparently the Wizard God* was on Harry's side that day, because Cedric came striding over to Harry. Even Cedric's walk was erotic to Harry.
"Can't wait to see you put that fancy new broom of yours to work on the Quidditch pitch this year Harry." Cedric said politely.
"This time you won't be winning so easily!" Harry said jokingly. Suddenly all of the awkward tension caused by Amos flew out of the proverbial window. Cedric visibly brightened, seeing that Harry wasn't taken aback by his father's brash impoliteness.
"Listen, I apologize for him. I don't get what his problem is with everyone else, but apparently the thought that somewhere out there, there are successful people who aren't me, is a thought that does not fit into his brain. I hope you wont think any less of me." Cedric said, scratching the back of his head, embarrassed. His face read like a book, and the words printed on it said that he had some daddy issues.