Chapter Text
The dorm room was dimly lit, the glow from their laptop screens casting soft shadows against the walls. Cedric Diggory sat at his desk, staring at a blank document on his screen, his fingers hovering over the keyboard but not moving. His Herbology notes sat beside him, barely touched.
Across from him, Roger Davies lay sprawled out on Cedric’s bed, lazily tossing a stress ball into the air. Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott sat cross-legged on the floor, each with their own stack of books, though Ernie looked close to giving up.
"This is useless," Ernie groaned, dropping his quill dramatically. "Sprout’s making us write a full essay on Mimbulus Mimbletonia like we’re training to become professional Herbologists."
Hannah shot him a look. "Well, Neville might be."
"Exactly," Roger cut in, catching the stress ball mid-air. "Why are we even struggling through this when we could just ask Longbottom?"
Cedric blinked, pulled out of his daze. He hadn’t even realized he’d stopped listening.
"Good idea," Hannah said, already reaching for her phone. "I bet he’s got the whole essay done already."
Cedric opened his mouth—maybe to say something, maybe to tell them he wasn’t in the mood—but stopped himself. It wasn’t like they were calling Harry. Just Neville.
Still, something in his chest tightened.
Hannah tapped the screen, setting the phone down in front of them.
It took a few rings before Neville picked up. His face appeared slightly pixelated on the screen, his dorm behind him in the usual state of organized chaos—books stacked haphazardly, a half-finished cup of tea on his nightstand.
"Hey," Neville greeted, rubbing his eyes. "What’s with the group call? Are we planning something illegal?"
"Depends," Roger said, flashing a grin. "Does academic dishonesty count?"
Neville snorted. "Herbology essay?"
"Bingo," Ernie confirmed, shaking his head. "We’re all struggling, and you’re the only person we know who can explain it without making us feel like idiots."
Neville sighed but didn’t protest. "Alright, what part are you stuck on?"
As Neville started explaining, Cedric sat back, hands resting in his lap. He tried to focus. Really. But it was hard when his mind kept circling back to the breakup. It had been one day. Just one.
He should feel relieved. He’d made the right choice. It wasn’t working. They were better off apart.
Then why did he feel like something inside him had been ripped out?
He barely noticed how much time had passed until a voice—familiar, muffled, unmistakable—cut through the call.
"Hey, Nev, do you know where I put—"
Cedric’s whole body went rigid.
Neville, unfazed, responded easily. "Firewhisky?"
"No, the..."
There was a brief pause. A gesture, maybe.
"Weed?"
"Yeah."
"Under the sink in the bathroom, mate."
Silence.
Roger raised an eyebrow. Hannah glanced at Cedric. Ernie shifted uncomfortably.
But Cedric didn’t move.
Didn’t blink.
He felt like something in his chest had cracked open.
Neville must have sensed the change in atmosphere because he suddenly looked uncertain. "Uh…" He hesitated, scratching the back of his head. "It’s… not a big deal, you know? He’s just—"
"How long?" Cedric asked, voice sharp.
Neville faltered. "I mean, not long long, just…"
Cedric’s heart slammed against his ribs. His fingers curled into fists against his thighs.
Had Harry been doing this the whole time? Had he just missed it? Had Harry started because of—
Because of him?
His pulse roared in his ears.
Neville must have noticed the shift in his expression because he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, Ced, it’s—he’s fine. It’s just a coping thing."
"Since when?" Cedric’s voice was too tight, too sharp. He wasn’t sure if he wanted an answer.
Neville hesitated again. "Since…"
He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t have to.
Cedric exhaled slowly. His jaw clenched.
His friends were still silent, watching him carefully. Roger looked like he wanted to say something but, for once, didn’t.
Neville sighed. "Look, do you want me to check on him?"
Cedric swallowed, forcing his expression to stay neutral. "No," he said, though it took effort to keep his voice even. "No, it’s not my business anymore."
The words felt wrong.
Neville hesitated, clearly unconvinced. "You sure?"
Cedric nodded. "Yeah. I’m sure."
His hands were shaking. He clenched them tighter.
Neville didn’t push, but the tension hung heavy between them.
The conversation moved on—Neville kept talking about Herbology, and his friends tried to act normal—but Cedric barely heard a word.
His mind was somewhere else.
With someone else.
And for the first time since the breakup, Cedric wasn’t sure if he’d made the right choice at all.
The tension in the call hadn’t faded. If anything, it had only thickened, pressing against Cedric’s chest like a weight he couldn’t shake. He sat still, his fingers curled against his knees, every muscle locked tight as he tried to pretend that hearing Harry ask for weed hadn’t just punched him straight in the gut.
The others were quiet. Roger, for once, didn’t have a quip ready. Ernie kept darting him uneasy glances. Hannah looked like she wanted to say something but didn’t know how.
Neville, though—Neville had never been good at sitting in silence.
The bathroom door in his dorm clicked open, and a second later, Harry walked back into frame.
Cedric barely registered the sight of him, just a flash of messy black hair, a loose hoodie, and a tired slouch in his shoulders. It had been one day, and yet—he already looked different.
And then—
Neville spoke.
"Hey, Harry, mate, Cedric wants to know how you are. Anything you wanna say?"
Cedric’s stomach plummeted.
His whole body stiffened, his breath catching in his throat.
And then—Harry turned toward the camera.
Their eyes didn’t meet, not really. Cedric was only seeing him through a screen, but that didn’t matter. Because Harry didn’t hesitate.
"He can go fuck off and die, actually," Harry said flatly, voice sharp and venomous. He grabbed the plastic bag from the sink, inspecting it idly. "Preferably very painfully. Maybe go drown himself in the lake."
Silence.
A dead, heavy silence.
Roger let out a low whistle. "Ouch."
Hannah’s eyes went wide. Ernie, for the first time in his life, had nothing to say.
Cedric?
He didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t expected some kind of reaction. Of course Harry was angry. Of course he was hurting. But to hear it said so casually, so carelessly—
Neville frowned, shifting awkwardly. "Alright, mate, no need for that."
Harry rolled his eyes, already turning away from the camera, his attention back on the bag in his hands. "Well, if he doesn’t like it, he shouldn’t have fucking asked."
Something about that snapped in Cedric’s chest.
His heart was hammering, his ears ringing, his breath caught somewhere in his throat. But he wouldn’t react.
He couldn’t.
Because Harry was right.
He’d ended it. He had no right to be hurt now. No right to be anything.
So instead, Cedric forced his expression into stone.
"I didn’t ask," he said quietly, voice even.
Harry snorted but didn’t turn around. "Sure, mate. Whatever helps you sleep at night."
And then—just like that—he was gone, out of frame.
Neville sighed, dragging a hand down his face. "Okay, that could’ve gone better."
Cedric barely heard him.
His heart hurt in a way that felt physical. His stomach twisted, nausea curling up his throat, and his hands clenched into fists so tight that his nails bit into his palm.
He felt Roger shift beside him, felt his friends looking at him, but it all felt distant.
Like he wasn’t really there anymore.
Like he was somewhere else entirely.
With someone else.
Someone who hated him now.
The call didn’t end.
Even though it probably should have.
Even though Cedric wanted it to.
Even though his chest still ached from the weight of Harry’s words.
But he didn’t leave. Didn’t hang up. Didn’t move.
Instead, he sat there, silent, staring at his laptop screen as Neville, Roger, Hannah, and Ernie awkwardly tried to pretend things weren’t unbearably tense.
Neville had steered the conversation back to Herbology, explaining something about soil acidity and magical plant growth, but Cedric barely heard it. His mind was still stuck in that moment, in Harry’s voice, sharp and cruel, saying he should just go drown himself in the lake.
He hadn’t meant it.
Probably.
…Had he?
Cedric’s jaw tightened. His fingers curled into his lap, gripping his hoodie sleeve. His stomach twisted again, nausea sitting thick in his throat.
Harry was mad. That was fair. Harry was hurting. That was fair.
But something still didn’t feel right.
Something about the way he’d said it.
Something about how tired he’d sounded.
Something—
"Oh, shit."
The words were soft but sharp, and they yanked Cedric’s attention back to the screen immediately.
The others reacted too—Roger’s head snapped up, Hannah frowned, Ernie looked confused.
Neville turned slightly, eyebrows knitting together. "What?"
A blur of movement.
Harry hurried past in the background, hand clamped under his nose, and that’s when they saw it—
Blood.
It was dark and wet, dripping between his fingers, smearing against his palm as he moved fast, making a beeline for the bathroom.
"Shit," Neville muttered, scrambling up from his bed. "Harry—"
The door slammed shut behind him.
Cedric’s pulse roared.
His stomach plummeted.
"Did his—was that—?" Ernie started, but he didn’t even seem to know how to finish the sentence.
"His nose," Hannah murmured, voice uncertain. "It’s probably just a nosebleed."
"Probably?" Roger echoed. "Did you see how much blood that was?"
Neville was already moving, setting his phone down at an angle that left them staring at a tilted view of his dorm bed. "Harry, you good?"
A muffled reply came from behind the bathroom door. Too quiet to hear.
Neville knocked. "Mate?"
More muffled noise.
Neville frowned. "I’m coming in, alright?"
No response.
And that was all it took for Cedric’s stomach to tie itself into knots.
Because this wasn’t just a nosebleed.
This wasn’t normal.
And no matter how angry Harry was at him, no matter how much he claimed to hate Cedric, no matter how much Cedric had tried to convince himself that this wasn’t his business anymore—
He knew one thing for sure.
Something was wrong.
The air in the call was thick, suffocating.
Cedric barely registered Roger, Hannah, or Ernie anymore—his entire focus was on the bathroom door.
On Harry, behind it.
On the blood.
Neville knocked again, firmer this time. "Harry, seriously, open up."
No response.
Cedric’s stomach twisted painfully.
Neville shot a quick glance at his phone—probably debating whether to mute the call before this turned into an even bigger scene—but then he let out a frustrated sigh and tried the doorknob.
It wasn’t locked.
The door creaked open, and the camera angle shifted slightly, revealing a glimpse of movement.
Then Neville froze.
Cedric saw his shoulders go tense.
"Nev?" Hannah asked cautiously.
Neville didn’t answer. Instead, he exhaled sharply and stepped fully inside, the camera shifting again—
And then they saw him.
Harry was leaning over the sink, one hand braced against the porcelain, the other still cupped uselessly under his nose. Blood streaked down his wrist, his palm, the inside of his sleeve. Drops had splattered against the white porcelain of the sink, staining it red.
His expression was tight, mouth pressed into a grim line, jaw clenched like he was too stubborn to admit this was even a problem.
"…That’s a lot of blood," Roger muttered, voice unusually serious.
Cedric couldn’t speak.
Couldn’t move.
Could barely think past the tightness in his chest as he stared at the screen, heart hammering against his ribs.
Neville stepped closer, reaching for something—probably a towel. "Mate, what the hell? How long has this been happening?"
Harry didn’t answer.
Just shook his head, sniffling slightly as more blood dripped down.
Neville frowned, pressing the towel against his face. "Tilt your head forward. And breathe through your mouth."
Harry grumbled but let him help, one hand still gripping the sink like he needed to ground himself.
Cedric forced himself to swallow, his throat dry and tight.
"Harry," he said before he could stop himself.
Harry went still.
Didn’t turn, didn’t respond. Just froze.
Neville glanced at the phone on his bed, realizing Cedric had spoken. He hesitated before sighing and turning back to Harry.
"Mate," he said carefully, voice softer now. "It’s him."
Harry exhaled sharply.
And then—slowly, deliberately—he pulled the towel away from his face and turned his head slightly toward the phone.
Not fully.
Not enough to really look at Cedric.
But enough for Cedric to see his eyes.
They weren’t just angry anymore.
They were tired.
Worn.
Frustrated.
And something else—something Cedric couldn’t name, but it hit him like a punch to the gut.
"You still here?" Harry muttered, voice hoarse, barely above a whisper.
Cedric opened his mouth. Paused.
He had no idea what to say.
No idea what he was allowed to say.
But then—before he could find words—Harry scoffed.
"Didn’t I tell you to go drown in the lake?"
The words should’ve hurt.
Should’ve pissed him off.
But all Cedric felt was exhausted.
And he could see it—Harry was exhausted, too.
He didn’t want to fight anymore.
Not really.
Cedric exhaled slowly.
"I’m still here," he said quietly.
And for the first time since the breakup, Harry finally, finally looked at him.
Harry’s eyes—sharp, green, and angry—locked onto Cedric’s through the phone screen. His grip on the sink tightened, knuckles white, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything.
Then, he scoffed.
A short, bitter sound.
"You’re still here?" he repeated, shaking his head. "You must be lost, Diggory. Thought you fucked off with Cho."
Cedric flinched.
The words hit—not because they weren’t true, but because of the way Harry said them. Like a blade. Like a wound ripped open.
Roger, Hannah, and Ernie sat frozen, silent witnesses to the wreckage.
Neville, to his credit, didn’t move away from Harry’s side, just let out a quiet sigh. "Harry—"
"No, actually, you know what?" Harry cut in, voice rising. His breathing was shaky, but he was pissed, and that was all that mattered. He turned slightly, the towel now hanging limply from his fingers, blood still drying against his skin. "I don’t know why you’re still on this fucking call, Cedric. What, you come to gloat? Want to check in on your charity case before you go back to playing happy couple with your new girlfriend?"
His eyes flashed, something wild and aching beneath the fury.
Cedric opened his mouth—to say what, he didn’t even know—but Harry wasn’t done.
"Because if that’s the case, you can piss off. I don’t need you. I never needed you," he snapped. "I’m fine, okay? Fucking fantastic."
Cedric’s stomach twisted violently.
Liar.
It was in the way Harry’s breathing hitched, the way he was gripping the sink like it was the only thing holding him up. The way his nose was still bleeding, staining his skin dark red, but he was acting like it didn’t matter.
Like none of this mattered.
Like Cedric didn’t matter.
It should have made Cedric angry.
Should have made him fight back.
But instead—
Instead—
Harry suddenly let out a harsh breath, staggering slightly, one hand pressing to his temple.
And then—
"I didn’t sleep last night."
It was quiet.
Almost an accident.
Like it slipped out before Harry even realized.
Like the fight had drained out of him all at once.
Neville visibly stiffened.
"Harry," he started, tone shifting.
But Harry didn’t look at him.
Didn’t look at anyone.
His shoulders were tense, his jaw clenched, and he wouldn’t meet the camera anymore.
"Couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t—" His voice broke slightly, and he cut himself off, shaking his head hard, as if trying to physically shove the words back inside.
Cedric’s chest ached.
Harry wasn’t fine.
Not even close.
And now, he knew it, too.
Harry exhaled sharply, bringing his hands up to rub over his face, but when he pulled them away, he only looked more tired.
"Fuck," he muttered, almost to himself.
No one spoke.
No one moved.
And for the first time since the breakup, Cedric wasn’t sure if either of them knew how to fix this.
The silence was thick, heavy, like it had its own weight pressing down on all of them.
Harry stood there, fists clenched at his sides, his breathing uneven, his face still streaked with drying blood. His outburst hung in the air, raw and jagged, and Cedric—
Cedric didn’t know what to say.
Didn’t know if he even could say anything.
But Neville did.
He sighed—long and slow, like he was so tired of this, of both of them, of whatever the hell this had become. Then, shaking his head, he reached out and grabbed Harry’s arm.
"Alright, that’s enough," he said firmly.
Harry barely had time to blink before Neville was steering him away from the sink, muttering something about stubborn idiots and self-destruction, but he didn’t resist. Not really.
Neville shot a pointed look at the phone—at Cedric, at all of them. "I’m muting you lot for a second."
Then—the screen flickered, the sound cut out, and they were left watching in absolute silence.
Neville didn’t even leave the room, just took Harry by the shoulder and turned him slightly, speaking low and close, his hand gripping Harry’s wrist in a way that made it clear this wasn’t up for debate.
Even muted, they could still see.
Could see the way Harry’s entire body tensed like he wanted to snap again—wanted to shove Neville off and storm out and burn every bridge he had left—
But he didn’t.
Instead, his shoulders dropped, his jaw working, his gaze dropping to the floor like he was too tired to keep fighting.
Neville’s expression softened.
He said something else—gentler this time, quieter—but Harry just shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut for a second before exhaling hard through his nose.
They stayed like that for a moment—Neville steady, unmoving, Harry wavering but not running.
Then, finally—finally—Harry nodded.
Just once.
Like a reluctant truce.
Neville gave him one last look before unmuting the call.
"Right," he said, his voice decisive. "Here’s what’s going to happen. Harry’s gonna clean up and actually rest, and all of you are going to stop staring like you’re watching a slow-motion train wreck."
Roger, Ernie, and Hannah all startled slightly, shifting in place.
Neville wasn’t finished.
"And you," he added, pointing directly at Cedric, "are either gonna say something useful or hang up, because I swear to Merlin, if I have to listen to you two exchange passive-aggressive heartbreak lines one more time, I’m going to start hexing people through the screen."
Cedric blinked.
Hannah made a small noise—half a cough, half a desperate attempt not to laugh.
Roger, ever the chaotic menace, muttered, "I’d pay to see that, honestly."
Neville glared.
Then he turned back to Harry, who was now staring at the floor, rubbing the heel of his hand over his forehead like this entire conversation was giving him a migraine.
Neville sighed. "Go sit down. You look like you’re about to pass out."
Harry grumbled but obeyed, moving toward the bed with the kind of exhausted movements that made Cedric’s stomach clench all over again.
Neville turned back to the camera. "Alright, Diggory. Your move."
Cedric stared at the screen.
At Harry, slumped on the bed, exhausted and wrecked and barely holding it together.
At Neville, arms crossed, waiting.
At his own reflection in the tiny corner of the call window, looking just as tired as he felt.
His chest ached.
But the words—whatever words he was supposed to say—they wouldn’t come.
What was he even supposed to do? Apologize? For what? Leaving? For choosing Cho? For breaking things off before he ever asked if there was another way?
For not realizing Harry needed him until now?
His throat tightened. His fingers curled against his laptop.
Then—before he could second-guess himself anymore—
He ended the call.
The screen went dark.
The silence was immediate, suffocating.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Then—
"You’re an idiot," Roger announced, throwing a stress ball at him.
Cedric barely caught it. He clenched it in his palm, staring at the fabric like it had answers.
"That was the most awkward, unresolved shit I have ever witnessed," Ernie muttered, running a hand down his face. "Honestly, I expected better from you."
Hannah let out a sharp breath. "Ced," she said gently, leaning forward. "Do you actually want this?"
Cedric blinked. "Want what?"
She gestured vaguely. "This. The breakup. Do you actually think this is how things should be?"
His chest tightened.
"Of course he does," Roger cut in, shrugging. "That’s why he dumped Potter to be with Cho."
Cedric’s stomach twisted violently.
"Did he, though?" Hannah murmured.
That made Roger pause.
Made Ernie shift uncomfortably.
Made Cedric freeze.
Hannah tilted her head, watching him carefully. "You never actually said that, did you?"
Cedric swallowed. "I—"
"You left Harry for Cho," she said. "But did you ever actually tell Cho that meant only her?"
Cedric’s mouth went dry.
The realization slammed into him like a bludger.
He hadn’t.
He’d assumed. He’d assumed that was the only option, that being with Cho meant not being with Harry, because that’s how things were supposed to work.
But had she assumed that?
Would she have—if he’d just asked—
His hands clenched into fists.
Roger whistled low. "Wow. You really are an idiot."
Ernie let out a slow breath. "You should talk to her."
Cedric’s heart was pounding.
Could it really be that simple? Had he done all of this for nothing?
For one second, he thought of Harry’s voice, raw and exhausted—"I didn’t sleep last night."
He thought of the blood on his hands.
The exhaustion in his eyes.
The way he hadn’t just been angry—he’d been hurt.
Had Cedric done this?
Had he made the wrong choice?
His breath shook.
He stood up.
His friends watched him.
Then Roger smirked. "Go get your girlfriend, Diggory."
Cedric didn’t even hesitate.
He grabbed his phone—
And left.
---
Cedric barely remembered walking through the halls, phone clenched in his hand, thoughts running in circles so fast they made him dizzy.
What the hell was he going to say?
How was he supposed to bring this up?
"Hey, Cho, I know we just started dating, but what if we didn’t break up with Harry?"
Yeah, that sounded ridiculous.
Except—
Was it?
Because the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he’d never even given her the chance to have an opinion on it. He’d made the decision alone—assuming, assuming, assuming—because that’s what people did, right?
You pick one person. You make a choice.
But what if the choice wasn’t one or the other?
What if it was both?
His heart was pounding when he reached Cho’s dorm. He knocked once—then again when he realized his hand was shaking.
The door swung open a moment later, revealing Cho, hair damp from a shower, wearing an oversized sweater, her phone in one hand. She blinked in surprise.
"Cedric?"
"Hey," he breathed.
She frowned, eyes scanning his face. "You look stressed. What’s wrong?"
His stomach tightened.
She could always read him too well.
He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I… need to talk to you about something."
Cho tilted her head, expression curious but cautious. "Okay?"
Cedric hesitated.
How the hell was he supposed to phrase this?
"Listen, I—" He stopped, started over. "It’s about Harry. And us. And—"
Then, before he could get another word out—
Cho sighed and smiled knowingly.
"Oh, thank God," she muttered. "I was wondering when you’d bring this up."
Cedric froze.
"What?"
Cho just laughed softly, shaking her head. "Cedric, come on. You think I don’t know you?"
He gaped. "You—what—?"
She raised an eyebrow. "I knew you weren’t over him when we got together. I figured you just needed time to figure that out."
His mind short-circuited.
"You—" He blinked rapidly. "You knew?"
Cho smirked, crossing her arms. "Sweetheart, you broke up with him two weeks ago and still looked like a kicked puppy. Of course I knew."
Cedric had no words.
None.
His brain was completely, utterly fried.
"But—I—"
Cho rolled her eyes fondly. "Cedric, did you really think I’d be upset?"
He blinked. "Wouldn’t you be?"
She tilted her head, studying him. "No. Not unless you’d actually tried to hide it from me. And you didn’t, not really."
Cedric let out a shaky breath. "So… what are you saying?"
Cho gave him a look. "I’m saying if you’d asked, instead of making assumptions, you might’ve realized that I like Harry too."
Cedric’s brain officially stopped functioning.
"You—what?"
Cho laughed. "Oh my God, you’re so slow sometimes." She reached up, cupping his face for a second before dropping her hands. "I would’ve been fine with it. If you’d wanted both of us, I wouldn’t have said no."
His heart stopped.
His chest ached.
He wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry. He wanted to go back in time and punch himself in the face.
Cho noticed the look on his face and sighed. "You idiot. You really thought you had to pick?"
Cedric swallowed hard.
"Yeah," he admitted. "I did."
Cho shook her head with a fond, exasperated smile. "So? What now?"
Cedric exhaled. His pulse roared in his ears.
Because he already knew the answer.
He had to fix this.
"I need to go find Harry."
Cho grinned. "Good. Want company?"
Cedric let out a breathless laugh.
And this time—for the first time in days—his heart felt a little lighter.
---
Cedric didn’t run through the halls, but he might as well have.
Cho kept pace beside him, her expression calm but determined, like she knew exactly how this was going to play out. Cedric wished he had even a fraction of that confidence.
Because despite everything—despite the realization, despite Cho’s reassurance—he still didn’t know what he was going to say.
What if Harry didn’t want this?
What if he’d already decided Cedric wasn’t worth it anymore?
The thought made his stomach twist, but he shoved it down, jaw tightening as they turned the final corner to Neville’s dorm.
Cho knocked once, firm and purposeful.
A shuffling sound came from inside. Then—the door cracked open, and Neville appeared.
The moment he saw them, his shoulders sank.
"Finally," he muttered, stepping aside without hesitation. "Took you long enough."
Cedric barely heard him.
Because past Neville, curled up on the bed, was Harry.
His hoodie was too big, swallowing him up. His hair was still damp from where he must’ve cleaned up, and his face looked paler than usual, like he’d burned through all his energy in the past twenty-four hours and had nothing left to give.
And the worst part?
He didn’t even look angry anymore.
He just looked tired.
Exhaustion had finally, finally won out.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Cedric had no idea how to bridge the distance between them.
Then—
Harry lifted his head.
His eyes met Cedric’s.
And he didn’t look away.
---
Silence.
Heavy. Unspoken. Thick with everything they hadn’t said.
Then—finally—Harry let out a shaky breath.
"You look like shit," he muttered.
It was weak. Hoarse. But the fight was gone.
Cedric exhaled sharply, almost laughing.
"Yeah," he admitted. "So do you."
Harry snorted softly, dropping his gaze, shaking his head.
A small, tired sound.
Then—he scooted over. Just an inch. Barely anything.
But enough.
Enough for Cedric to understand.
Cho nudged him gently. "Go," she murmured.
Cedric didn’t hesitate.
He crossed the room, sitting on the edge of the bed, close but not crowding him. Not yet.
Harry didn’t look at him immediately.
But he didn’t tell him to leave, either.
And after everything—after all of it—that was enough.
For now.
The silence between them wasn’t as sharp as before.
It wasn’t angry, wasn’t thick with all the things neither of them were saying—it was just… heavy. Tired.
Harry sat against the headboard, arms tucked inside his hoodie, gaze still fixed somewhere past Cedric’s shoulder. He looked like he could barely keep his eyes open.
Cedric swallowed. His heart was still pounding, but he forced himself to speak anyway.
"Harry," he said, his voice quieter than he meant it to be. "I messed up."
That got a reaction.
Harry blinked—just once—before his lips pressed together tightly.
Cedric exhaled slowly. "I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought…" He trailed off, shaking his head. "I don’t know what I thought. But I didn’t ask you. And I should have."
Harry still didn’t say anything. But he was listening.
So Cedric kept going.
"I thought the only way this worked was if I chose," he admitted, his throat tight. "I thought if I wanted to be with Cho, that meant I couldn’t have you too. I didn’t even think about…" He glanced at Cho, who was sitting on the other side of the bed, watching carefully. "I didn’t ask if there was another way."
Harry let out a slow breath, finally shifting his gaze toward Cho.
"Did you know about this?" His voice was rough, hoarse from exhaustion, but not as sharp as before.
Cho smiled just a little. "I figured it out before he did."
Harry snorted softly, shaking his head, his fingers curling into his hoodie. "That’s not surprising."
Cedric almost laughed, but there was still a weight sitting heavy in his chest.
He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "I don’t want this to be over," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t want to walk away from you. From this. But I need to know if you even want me here. If this is something you’d ever consider."
Harry’s breath hitched, his fingers tightening slightly.
It was a long moment before he spoke.
"You were supposed to be the smart one," he muttered.
Cedric blinked. "What?"
Harry finally turned toward him, meeting his gaze head-on. Really looking at him this time.
"You didn’t have to choose," Harry murmured. "You never had to fucking choose."
Cedric’s chest ached.
"I know," he admitted. "I get that now."
Harry held his stare for another beat—like he was trying to decide if he believed him—before finally exhaling.
Then—slowly, hesitantly—he moved just enough that his shoulder knocked into Cedric’s.
Not much.
But enough.
Cedric’s stomach flipped.
Cho grinned. "So… is that a yes?"
Harry rolled his eyes, but his mouth twitched just slightly at the corners.
He let out a small, exhausted sigh.
And then—
"Yeah," he muttered. "It’s a yes."
Cedric felt something in his chest loosen for the first time in days.
Notes:
You should totally join my discord server *wink wink nudge nudge*
https://discord.gg/6t4WdRBe
Chapter Text
The first thing Cedric noticed when he woke up was warmth.
The second thing he noticed was that warmth was Harry.
Harry, curled up on his side, facing away, still deep in sleep. His breath was soft and even, the slow rise and fall of his chest steady, his messy hair sticking up in about ten different directions.
Cedric blinked groggily, his mind sluggishly catching up with where he was, why he was here, and how this had happened.
Right.
He hadn’t left.
He’d sat on this bed, waiting for Harry to talk, to say something, anything, until exhaustion had pulled them both under.
Now—morning had come, and Cedric was still here.
Harry hadn’t pushed him away.
That realization settled in his chest, warm and uncertain all at once.
Cedric shifted slightly, trying not to disturb him. The room was still dim, the early morning light barely filtering through the curtains. Across the dorm, Neville’s bed was empty—probably already up, giving them space.
Then—his phone buzzed.
He reached for it instinctively, squinting at the screen.
Cho: You better still be there when he wakes up.
Cedric huffed a quiet, amused breath.
Of course she knew.
Of course she was already two steps ahead of him.
Shaking his head, he typed back a quick response.
Cedric: I am.
Before he could put his phone down, it buzzed again.
Cho: Good. Stay put. If you leave before he wakes up, I’ll actually hex you.
Cedric smirked, but the warmth in his chest grew.
She knew him too well.
Because a small part of him had thought about slipping out quietly, letting Harry wake up on his own—giving him space to process everything that had happened.
But maybe that wasn’t what he needed.
Maybe this was.
He let out a slow breath and leaned back slightly, careful not to move too much.
For now, he’d stay.
And when Harry woke up—they’d figure it out together.
At first, Harry barely stirred.
Cedric could tell the exact moment he started waking up—not fully, but in that slow, half-conscious haze where everything was warmth and weightlessness.
Harry made a soft sound, a barely-there murmur, shifting slightly under the blankets.
Then—without thinking—he rolled over and pressed himself into Cedric’s side, his face tucking against Cedric’s shoulder, one hand resting against Cedric’s chest.
Cedric’s breath caught.
His entire body froze—not because he didn’t want it, but because he did.
Because it felt so natural.
Like this wasn’t the first time.
Like Harry had done this a hundred times before.
But then—Harry shifted again, brow furrowing slightly, his breathing hitching just enough that Cedric knew he was waking up properly.
And then—he went still.
Cedric barely had a second to process it before Harry stiffened completely, his whole body locking up.
The hand that had been resting on Cedric’s chest curled into a fist, then pulled away.
Harry didn’t move back entirely, but he wasn’t relaxed anymore.
Cedric could feel it in the way his muscles tensed, in the way his breathing wasn’t as soft as before.
For a few heartbeats, neither of them spoke.
Then—Harry exhaled, slow and careful.
"…You’re still here," he mumbled. His voice was hoarse from sleep, but there was something uncertain underneath it.
Cedric swallowed. "Yeah."
Harry didn’t move, but Cedric could feel him thinking. Processing.
Like he was trying to figure out whether or not to freak out.
Cedric could have said something else. Could have teased him for being a cuddler, or reassured him that he wasn’t going anywhere.
Instead, he just waited.
Because this—letting Harry decide what happened next—felt more important than anything else.
Harry didn’t move away.
Not completely.
But the warmth was different now.
Before, it had been instinctive—easy, unconscious, safe. Now, even though he was still pressed against Cedric’s side, there was a tension beneath it. A hesitation.
His fingers, once relaxed, were stiff against the fabric of Cedric’s hoodie.
His breathing, once steady, was now measured, careful.
He was awake now. Fully. And aware of what he’d just done.
Cedric didn’t say anything. Didn’t push.
He just waited.
And eventually—Harry spoke first.
"...Why are you still here?"
His voice was quiet, not quite accusing, but not exactly welcoming either.
Cedric took a slow breath. "Because I wanted to be."
Harry let that sit for a second. Then—he shifted slightly, tilting his head just enough to glance up at him.
His eyes were guarded, half-hidden by messy curls, but Cedric still caught the flicker of something raw beneath them.
"That’s new," Harry muttered.
Cedric’s stomach twisted.
He knew what Harry meant.
You left before.
You left, and you didn’t look back.
Now you’re here.
And I don’t know how to believe that you’ll stay.
Cedric exhaled. "Yeah," he admitted. "It is."
Harry’s gaze lingered on him for another beat—studying him, searching for something Cedric wasn’t sure he would find.
Then—he huffed softly, dropping his forehead back against Cedric’s shoulder.
Not giving in. But not pushing away, either.
Cedric stayed still, letting Harry settle however he needed.
After a moment, Harry spoke again, softer this time.
"...Did you sleep okay?"
It was such a small question, but it felt like the start of something.
Like an unspoken truce.
Cedric let out a slow breath. "Yeah. Did you?"
Harry didn’t answer immediately.
Then—a small shrug.
"Better than I have in a while," he admitted.
Cedric’s chest tightened.
But before he could say anything else—Harry shifted, pulling back just slightly, but still close.
Then—finally—he looked up again.
And for the first time that morning, Cedric saw it.
The uncertainty. The fear of hope.
The silent question that Harry wasn’t asking out loud.
What happens now?
Cedric swallowed hard.
"Do you want to figure this out?" he asked, voice steady but quiet.
Harry held his gaze.
Then—finally, hesitantly—
He nodded.
Cedric didn’t press for more.
He didn’t need to.
Harry had nodded. That was enough.
For now.
Harry let out a slow breath, his shoulders finally relaxing, if only a little. He was still close, still not quite ready to put distance between them, but Cedric could feel him thinking. Processing.
Then—Cedric’s phone buzzed.
He pulled it from the nightstand and glanced at the screen.
Cho: I swear to Merlin, if you mess this up, I’m breaking up with both of you.
Cedric snorted.
Harry frowned slightly. "What?"
Cedric turned the phone so he could see.
Harry blinked. Then—a startled, disbelieving laugh slipped out of him.
It wasn’t much.
But it was real.
And for the first time that morning, Cedric felt like things might actually be okay.
Harry’s laugh faded slowly, but the warmth of it lingered.
Cedric tucked his phone away, exhaling softly. The tension had eased, but there was still something between them—something unspoken that couldn’t stay that way forever.
They needed to talk. Really talk.
Cedric hesitated for half a second before tilting his head toward Harry.
"Can we… figure out what this looks like?" His voice was gentle, careful, but not uncertain.
Harry blinked, processing, before shifting to sit up slightly. "You mean boundaries?"
Cedric nodded. "Yeah. What you’re okay with. What you’re not okay with. What you need from us."
Harry’s expression tightened just slightly. Not because he was mad—but because he wasn’t used to this.
Being asked.
Being given a say.
He looked down at his hands, rubbing his thumb over a crease in Cedric’s blanket. "I—" He stopped, sighing. "I don’t even know. I don’t know how to do this."
Cedric’s stomach twisted.
"You don’t have to know everything right now," Cedric said softly. "We can figure it out as we go. But I don’t want to rush you into something you’re not ready for."
Harry was quiet for a beat.
Then—softly: "I don’t want to feel like an afterthought."
Cedric’s breath caught.
Harry didn’t look at him, just kept his eyes on the blanket, his fingers fidgeting slightly.
"I know I wasn’t the reason you broke up with me," Harry muttered. "I know you thought you had to choose, and now you’re saying you don’t. But if I’m in this, I don’t want to feel like I’m just… I don’t know. Something extra."
Cedric’s chest ached.
"You’re not," he said immediately.
Harry gave him a look. "You can’t just say that."
Cedric held his gaze. "I’m not just saying it."
Harry exhaled sharply, not fully convinced, but he didn’t argue either.
Cedric glanced at his phone again. "Cho’s not going to let that happen either, you know. You’re not just some addition to us. This is all three of us."
Harry hesitated. "I just don’t know how to be in something like this."
Cedric nodded. "Then let’s set some ground rules."
Harry shifted slightly, considering. "Okay."
Cedric ran a hand through his hair, thinking. "Let’s start simple. Public stuff. What are you comfortable with?"
Harry bit his lip. "I don’t… know yet. I don’t want people assuming I’m just a side thing."
Cedric nodded. "So we don’t treat you like one. If we do anything publicly, it’s all of us, or we don’t do it at all."
Harry exhaled. "That’s fair."
Cedric waited.
Harry hesitated again.
"Just—" He swallowed, voice quieter now. "I don’t want to be overwhelmed. I can’t do… everything at once. It’s already a lot."
Cedric softened immediately. "We’ll go slow."
Harry nodded, relieved.
For the first time, he met Cedric’s gaze again, and something in his expression had shifted.
Like maybe, just maybe, this was something he could actually do.
Cedric smiled.
"Good start?" he asked.
Harry huffed softly. "Yeah. Good start."
And this time, when Harry relaxed against him, he didn’t tense up.
Just as the tension in the room fully eased, Cedric’s phone buzzed again.
This time, it wasn’t a text.
Cho was calling.
Cedric barely had time to react before Harry made a noise of protest, groaning and rolling over to bury his face in Cedric’s pillow.
"Tell her I’m dead," he muttered, voice muffled.
Cedric smirked, amused despite everything, and answered the call.
"Morning to you too," Cho said the second the call connected. "Did you two actually talk, or are we still emotionally constipated?"
Cedric glanced at Harry, who let out an exaggerated sigh, still refusing to lift his head.
"We talked," Cedric confirmed, shifting to put the call on speaker. "Sort of."
Cho snorted. "I’ll take it. How’s our favorite broody idiot doing?"
Harry grumbled into the pillow.
"I’ll take that as ‘still broody, but slightly less of an idiot,’" Cho teased.
Cedric bit back a laugh. "More or less."
Harry finally lifted his head just enough to glare at the phone. "You two are aware that I’m right here, yeah?"
"Oh, we know," Cho said cheerfully. "How’s it feel to be dating two of the most incredibly thoughtful, patient, and devastatingly attractive people you know?"
Harry groaned and rolled onto his back, throwing an arm over his face. "I hate you."
"No, you don’t," Cho said smoothly. "Now, tell me—how much emotional progress did you two actually make before I swooped in to save the day?"
Cedric smirked. "Some. We talked about boundaries."
Cho perked up immediately. "Oh? That’s good. Where are we at?"
Harry sighed, but he wasn’t tense anymore. If anything, he looked resigned—but in a good way, like he’d finally accepted that this was happening, and he wasn’t alone in it.
"We’re going slow," Harry muttered. "No public anything unless it’s all three of us or nothing."
Cho hummed thoughtfully. "That makes sense. What else?"
Cedric nudged him slightly. "Tell her the other thing."
Harry shot him a half-hearted glare before sighing. "I just… don’t want to feel like an afterthought."
Cho’s voice softened immediately.
"You won’t be," she said firmly. "We’re not doing this unless we’re doing it together."
Harry swallowed.
His fingers curled slightly against the blanket, and he nodded, even though Cho couldn’t see it.
Cedric squeezed his wrist lightly—just once, grounding.
Cho exhaled. "Alright. You two keep talking. I’ll be there in an hour."
Harry visibly tensed. "Why?"
"Because," Cho said matter-of-factly, "I’m your girlfriend, and you haven’t properly cuddled me yet."
Cedric choked back a laugh.
Harry groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes dramatically. "You two are the worst."
Cho laughed. "Love you too, sweetheart. See you soon."
And with that, she hung up.
Cedric turned toward Harry, eyebrow raised. "So, how’s it feel? Your first official day dating both of us?"
Harry didn’t move for a second.
Then—softly, barely above a whisper—
"Not as scary as I thought."
Cedric smiled.
And this time, when he reached out to thread their fingers together, Harry didn’t pull away.
Harry barely had time to mentally prepare before Cho arrived in full force.
The second the door opened, she swept into the room like a woman on a mission, tossing her bag onto Neville’s empty bed and immediately zeroing in on Harry.
"There he is," she said dramatically, hands on her hips. "My newest boyfriend. The one who has not yet given me the proper cuddling treatment."
Harry groaned. "I regret everything."
Cho grinned. "No, you don’t."
Before he could fully process what was happening, she launched herself onto the bed, practically tackling him, and latched onto his side like a koala.
Harry yelped, immediately trying to escape. "Cho—what the hell—?"
"You brought this upon yourself," she said smugly, snuggling in closer. "You get one day of free emotional processing. After that, it’s cuddles or consequences."
Cedric—who was watching this unfold with sheer amusement—raised an eyebrow. "What exactly are the consequences?"
Cho smirked. "A lifetime of watching me be adorable with only Cedric."
Harry huffed. "That’s a punishment?"
Cedric leaned in slightly, his voice low and teasing. "You say that now."
Harry’s face burned.
Cho snickered. "Oh, he’s blushing. I love this for me."
Harry muttered something unintelligible but didn’t pull away.
Didn’t fight it.
Didn’t say, I can’t do this.
And that was progress.
Cho grinned, victorious.
"Alright," she said, settling comfortably against him. "Let’s start this relationship right. Movie night, yes?"
Cedric smirked. "Sounds like a plan."
Harry groaned but didn’t protest.
And that?
That felt like the best start they could ask for.
Cho was still snuggled against Harry’s side, looking far too pleased with herself, while Cedric leaned back comfortably against the headboard, one arm resting along the top of the bed.
"So," Cho began, tapping a finger against her chin, "first official date. Thoughts? Preferences? Should we go classic? Dinner, a movie? Or should we get creative?"
Harry huffed. "We literally just decided to do this, and you’re already planning a date?"
Cho grinned. "Of course. What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t sweep you both off your feet immediately?"
Cedric chuckled, glancing at Harry. "She’s not wrong, you know. We probably should think about it."
Harry groaned, but before he could respond—
His phone buzzed.
He pulled it from his hoodie pocket, barely glancing at the screen before answering the FaceTime.
The moment the call connected, Seamus Finnigan’s grinning face appeared, the background revealing that he was out in the courtyard.
But before Seamus could say anything else, his eyes flickered over Harry’s face and—
"Oh shit," Seamus blurted, eyebrows shooting up. "Sorry, Hazz. Your face is all red—bad time?"
Harry blinked. "…Not really?"
Seamus squinted. "Really? ‘Cause it looks like you just got done shagging when you answered."
Cedric choked.
Cho gasped in delight.
Harry?
Didn’t even flinch.
Instead, he smirked. "Wouldn’t you like to know."
Seamus let out an immediate, scandalized wheeze, nearly dropping his phone. "EXCUSE ME?"
Cho burst into laughter.
Cedric was still recovering.
"Harry," Cedric muttered, half in shock, half in amusement, "did you really just—"
"Shh," Harry said, waving a dismissive hand. "I’m enjoying this."
Seamus looked genuinely distressed. "Wait, wait—is that Cho? Is that Cedric? Are you—OH MY GOD, ARE YOU SERIOUS?"
Cho cackled. "Oh, we’re very serious, Finnigan."
Seamus gasped dramatically, leaning back. "I—I need a moment."
Harry grinned. "Take your time, mate. We’ll be here."
Seamus dragged a hand down his face, mumbling something about needing a drink, before shaking his head and focusing back on the screen.
"Alright, so what the hell did I just walk in on?" Seamus demanded. "Am I about to witness a live throuple planning session?"
Cedric sighed. "We were trying to plan our first date before you interrupted."
Seamus’ eyes went wide. "OH, I WANT IN ON THIS."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "You want in on our date planning?"
Seamus smirked. "No, mate. I want a front-row seat to whatever public meltdown this is going to cause."
Cho beamed. "Finally, someone who gets it."
Harry groaned, flopping back onto Cedric’s shoulder. "You’re both terrible."
Seamus snickered. "Oh, absolutely. Now, tell me the details. Are we going big? Subtle? Do you need a distraction team? Because I can provide one."
Cedric sighed, already regretting this.
Cho, however, looked delighted.
"Tell me more about this distraction team," she said, eyes glinting mischievously.
Harry just covered his face with his hands.
Seamus leaned forward, grinning like a menace.
"Alright, hear me out," he began, hands clasped like he was delivering the most important speech of his life. "You three walk into the fanciest restaurant in town. Everyone’s already whispering, wondering if it’s a coincidence that Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang are both out with Harry Potter—"
"We’re already off to a horrible start," Cedric muttered.
"Shh," Seamus said, waving him off before continuing. "Then—right in the middle of dinner—one of you just casually slides a third plate over and starts feeding Harry."
Cho perked up immediately. "Oh, I like where this is going."
Cedric groaned.
Seamus pressed on. "And then, at some point, one of you—doesn’t matter which—makes an offhand comment like, ‘No, it’s your turn to sleep in Harry’s bed tonight, I had him last time.’ Maximum chaos."
Cedric choked. "Seamus."
Seamus wasn’t finished. "If you want to get really spicy, halfway through the meal, one of you just gets up and sits in Harry’s lap like it’s nothing. No explanation. No hesitation."
Harry, who had been entirely unbothered up until this point, nodded solemnly. "Bonus points if I just keep eating like nothing’s happening."
Seamus gasped in delight. "YES! Now you’re thinking!"
Cho leaned in, fascinated. "Okay, but what if, when the waiter comes over, we only order two desserts and make them guess which of us is sharing?"
Seamus pointed. "SEE, THIS IS WHY YOU’RE PERFECT FOR THIS RELATIONSHIP."
Cedric covered his face with his hands. "This is a disaster."
Harry patted his knee. "You’re doing great, sweetheart."
Seamus immediately gasped again, clutching his chest. "Oh my God. The pet names. I’m witnessing history."
Cedric gave Harry a look. "Did you just—"
Harry shrugged. "What? You’re stuck with me now, Diggory. Might as well get used to it."
Seamus threw his head back laughing. "Oh, I’m loving this new era of Harry Potter. This is my favorite timeline."
Cho grinned. "Alright, alright, but in all seriousness—what do we actually want to do?"
Seamus pretended to be scandalized. "You’re telling me you’re not going with my public display of chaos plan? I’m hurt. Betrayed, even."
Harry hummed thoughtfully. "We’ll save it for the second date."
Seamus nearly fell over. "OH, YOU’RE EVIL. I LOVE IT."
Cedric let out a slow, long-suffering breath. "Can we please get back on track before this spirals even further?"
Cho giggled but nodded. "Alright, alright, fine. Seamus, you’ve been very helpful—"
"I know."
"—but let’s bring this back to something that won’t get us kicked out of a restaurant."
Seamus sighed dramatically. "Fine. Be boring."
Harry smirked. "Next time, I’ll make sure you’re in charge of planning."
Seamus’ eyes lit up. "You’re gonna regret that, Potter."
"Oh, I’m counting on it."
Cedric sighed again. He was already regretting everything.
Seamus finally ended his dramatic performance with a sigh. "Alright, alright, I’ll let you lot be boring and have a proper date. But just know, you’re missing out on a once-in-a-lifetime chaos opportunity."
"Noted," Cedric deadpanned.
Harry grinned. "You’ll live, Finnigan."
Seamus huffed. "Fine, I’ll leave you nerds to your romantic planning. But mark my words, I’m getting a full report later."
And with that, he hung up.
The moment the call ended, Cho sighed in relief. "Merlin, I love him, but he is a lot."
Harry snorted. "You say that like you’re not exactly the same."
Cho winked. "I contain multitudes, Potter."
Cedric shook his head, but he was smiling. "Alright, now that Seamus isn’t hijacking the conversation, what do we actually want to do?"
A beat of silence.
Then—Harry sighed. "Something simple?"
Cho nodded. "That makes sense. Nothing that’s gonna feel too big, too soon."
Cedric leaned back, thinking. "What about coffee?"
Harry made a face. "I don’t drink coffee."
Cho gasped, clutching her chest. "You absolute heathen."
Harry smirked. "I like tea. I’m civilized."
"You think you’re civilized," Cho muttered. "Fine. Café date. We’ll find one that serves tea, just for you."
Cedric grinned. "Could be a good way to just… sit and talk. No pressure."
Harry hummed, considering. "Alright. That works."
Cho tapped her chin. "But that feels a little too tame. We should add something fun."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "What, like an activity?"
"Yes!" Cho’s eyes lit up. "Something casual but cute. Like—oh! Bookstore date."
Cedric perked up. "I like that."
Harry, however, looked suspicious. "Why do I feel like this is an excuse for you to analyze my taste in books?"
Cho’s grin widened. "Because it is."
Harry sighed dramatically. "Fine. Café and bookstore. But if I catch you making a ‘What Your Book Choices Say About You’ analysis, I’m leaving."
Cho fluttered her lashes innocently. "Oh, sweetheart, I would never."
Cedric snorted. "That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one."
Cho winked.
Harry just shook his head, but he was smiling.
"Alright," Cedric said, leaning back on his hands. "Café and bookstore. That’s our first official date."
Harry tilted his head slightly. "Feels weird to actually be doing this."
Cho nudged him playfully. "Get used to it, love. You’re stuck with us now."
Harry rolled his eyes—but didn’t disagree.
And for the first time in days, Cedric felt like things were finally settling into place.
---
Cedric should’ve known Seamus wouldn’t let them leave quietly.
The moment he and Cho arrived at the common room, waiting for Harry to come down from his dorm, they were met with knowing looks from nearly everyone.
Seamus, Dean, and Ginny were sprawled across the couches like they’d been waiting for this exact moment.
Cho smirked. "We’ve got an audience."
Cedric sighed. "Of course we do."
Seamus perked up the second he spotted them. "Oi, where’s Potter?"
"Coming," Cedric said warily, already bracing himself for whatever nonsense was about to unfold.
Sure enough, as soon as Harry appeared, Seamus sat up and grinned.
"Well, well, well," he drawled, eyes glinting with mischief. "Off on your first official date, are we?"
Harry groaned immediately. "Please don’t make this a thing."
"Oh, but it is a thing," Seamus shot back. "It’s a very big thing."
Cho was already enjoying this. "I mean, he’s not wrong, love."
Harry shot her a betrayed look. "Not you too."
Seamus waved a dismissive hand. "Relax, relax. I just have one very important question before you leave."
Cedric felt a sense of foreboding.
Harry, clearly already tired of this conversation, sighed. "What?"
Seamus tilted his head, expression far too serious.
"Harry," he said, tone completely straight, "since you're taken again, does this mean I can't use your arse as a handwarmer anymore?"
Cho choked.
Cedric froze.
Harry just blinked. "…You didn’t do that in the first place, Shae."
Seamus shrugged. "No, but I really, really wanted to."
Dean started wheezing. Ginny covered her face like she was so, so done with this conversation.
Cho, for her part, was cackling.
Cedric?
Cedric was having a crisis.
Harry, meanwhile, remained unbothered. He considered for a moment, then—completely deadpan—
"…Thank you?"
Seamus slapped a hand over his heart dramatically. "Anytime, love."
Cho gasped for air. "Oh my God."
Cedric pinched the bridge of his nose. This was his life now.
"I regret ever introducing you two," Cedric muttered.
"Too late now," Seamus said brightly.
Dean, still recovering from laughter, waved them toward the door. "Go. Before Seamus makes it worse."
Harry huffed, shaking his head. "Right. We’re leaving. Before I actually consider a restraining order."
Cho, still giggling, grabbed Cedric’s arm. "I love your friends."
Cedric groaned. "You say that now, but wait until Seamus starts giving you dating advice."
Harry grinned. "Oh, that’s happening. He’s already planning it."
"Merlin help me," Cedric muttered.
Cho winked. "Too late, Diggory. You’re stuck with us now."
And with that, they stepped out into the corridor, leaving behind the chaos—only to walk straight into whatever came next.
And if Seamus shouted after them, "Let me know if you need a fourth!"
Well.
Cedric chose not to acknowledge that.
---
Cedric pushed open the café door, immediately hit with the warm scent of coffee, cinnamon, and something vaguely chocolatey. The place was cozy, all dim lighting and soft chatter, a few students scattered around in study groups or tucked into booths with books.
It was exactly the kind of place that felt like a safe first date—nothing too flashy, nothing too overwhelming.
Harry stepped in beside him, hands tucked into his hoodie pockets, eyes scanning the space like he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with himself.
Cho, on the other hand, was completely at ease.
"This is perfect," she declared, nudging Harry’s side playfully. "See? No pressure. Just three very attractive people having a very attractive date."
Harry huffed a laugh. "You’re ridiculous."
Cho grinned. "And yet, you’re still here."
Cedric chuckled, placing a gentle hand on Harry’s lower back to guide him toward an open booth near the window. "Come on. Let’s get comfortable first before we figure out what we’re ordering."
Harry didn’t flinch at the touch. Didn’t tense up. Just let Cedric lead him forward, letting out a soft breath when he slid into the booth.
Progress.
Cedric sat beside him, Cho across from them, looking entirely too pleased.
"Alright," she said, rubbing her hands together. "Rules for a first date—Cedric, you’re paying."
Cedric smirked. "Oh? That’s a rule?"
"It is now," she said sweetly.
Harry rolled his eyes. "I could get my own drink, you know."
"You could," Cho agreed. "But you won’t, because Cedric’s chivalrous like that and because we are courting you properly."
Harry groaned. "I hate you."
Cho beamed. "No, you don’t. Now, what’s your tea order, love?"
Harry sighed dramatically.
But he was smiling.
By the time their drinks arrived, the energy had completely shifted.
What had started as a casual, no-pressure date had slowly turned into something else—a game, a challenge, a competition.
And Harry was the prize.
Not that he seemed to mind.
Cho stirred her tea with deliberate slowness, leaning forward slightly, eyes glinting mischievously as she tapped a perfectly manicured nail against the ceramic cup. "So, Harry," she began smoothly, "who’s been the better date so far?"
Harry, mid-sip, paused.
Cedric raised an eyebrow. "Really? We’re doing this?"
Cho grinned. "Oh, we are absolutely doing this."
Harry set his cup down with calculated ease, tilting his head slightly. "What, you two need me to pick a favorite?"
Cedric smirked. "I mean, you’re not obligated—"
"But it would be fun," Cho cut in, grinning.
Harry made a thoughtful noise, dragging it out just enough to make Cedric and Cho both lean in slightly, waiting for his answer.
Then—he shrugged.
"Dunno," he said simply, way too casual, leaning back in the booth. "Cedric’s warm and pays for my drinks, but Cho’s prettier and lets me win at Wizard’s Chess."
Cho gasped dramatically. "How dare you imply I let you win."
Cedric, meanwhile, smirked. "You think I’m warm?"
Harry froze.
Cho pounced instantly. "Oh, this is interesting. Diggory, did you just make him blush?"
"I did," Cedric said, grinning.
Harry scowled, cheeks definitely a little pink. "You both suck."
"Oh, sweetheart," Cho said sweetly, propping her chin on her hand, "but we’re your problem now."
Harry groaned into his cup.
Cedric chuckled, nudging his knee under the table. "You’re still enjoying yourself, though."
Harry glanced at him, gaze flickering between Cedric and Cho, like he was trying to figure out if he was in over his head.
Then, finally, reluctantly—
"…Yeah," he muttered. "I am."
Cedric’s **chest tightened—**not in a bad way, but in that way that made him realize that this was real.
They were actually doing this.
Cho beamed. "Good. Because I’m winning this competition, just so we’re clear."
Cedric snorted. "Oh? You think so?"
"I know so," she said smugly. "Harry clearly likes me best."
Cedric turned to Harry. "That true?"
Harry took a slow sip of his tea.
Then—completely straight-faced—
"Wouldn’t you like to know."
Cho howled. Cedric shook his head, grinning.
The café date had gone surprisingly well, which meant one thing was certain—
Cho and Cedric were not letting up.
By the time they stepped into the bookstore, the energy between them was lighter, warmer, and Harry?
Harry was relaxed.
Or at least, he had been.
Until Cedric touched him.
It wasn’t anything dramatic—not some grand display of affection, not something designed to make him squirm.
It was just—simple.
Harry had been running his fingers absentmindedly along the book spines, scanning the titles, when Cedric—**without hesitation, without thinking—**came up behind him and placed a hand on the small of his back.
Warm. Grounding.
A simple touch—steady, familiar.
And yet—
Harry froze.
His breath hitched, just barely.
His fingers stilled against the book.
And he knew—**he just knew—Cedric had noticed.
The warmth of the touch lingered, but it wasn’t overwhelming.
Just enough to remind him Cedric was there.
"Find something interesting?" Cedric murmured, his voice low, close enough that Harry could feel it.
Harry’s brain short-circuited.
Cho, who had been innocently browsing a few shelves away, glanced over just in time to see Harry’s ears turning pink.
Her eyes lit up.
"Oh my God," she whispered, delighted.
Harry whipped around immediately, glaring at her like she had just discovered his darkest secret.
"What," she said innocently, leaning against the shelf, smirking.
"You both suck," Harry muttered, grabbing the first book he could reach and shoving it in Cedric’s hands. "Here. Buy me this and shut up."
Cedric, amused but merciful, took the book without comment.
Cho, however, was having the time of her life.
"You know, love," she mused, tapping her chin thoughtfully, "if that got that reaction, I can only imagine what’ll happen when we—"
"NOPE," Harry cut in, grabbing another book and shoving it at her this time. "You’re buying this one. Congratulations."
Cho laughed but didn’t argue.
Harry, however, knew he was doomed.
Because Cedric and Cho had both seen it now.
And they were absolutely going to use this information against him.
Cedric smirked, tucking the book under his arm. "You sure you don’t want to test out any other reactions while we’re here?"
Harry glared. "Buy the book, Diggory, before I change my mind."
Cho was still giggling as they headed toward the register.
And Harry?
Harry just resigned himself to the rest of his life being absolute hell.
Notes:
You should totally join my discord server *wink wink nudge nudge*
https://discord.gg/6t4WdRBe
Chapter Text
The bookstore bags were light in their hands, but the air between them carried a weight of something else.
Something unspoken.
Harry didn’t really mind the teasing—it was annoying, sure, but it was also normal. Familiar.
What he wasn’t used to was this.
This… softness.
The warmth of their conversation, the way Cedric and Cho just existed beside him, not demanding anything, not pushing.
The way they moved as a unit, shifting seamlessly around each other, letting Harry fit into the spaces they made for him.
He wasn’t used to it.
But he didn’t hate it.
The three of them walked at a leisurely pace, the streets quiet in the evening air. Cedric and Cho were chatting about something Quidditch-related, easy and effortless, while Harry just listened, content to let them fill the space.
Then—without fanfare, without hesitation—
Cedric reached for his hand.
Not some grand gesture, not something meant to make a point.
Just—casual. Simple. Like it was the easiest thing in the world.
Like it was natural.
Like it was allowed.
Harry’s first instinct was to tense.
Because this was new. Because his brain hadn’t caught up yet.
But Cedric’s grip was light, steady, not demanding.
And before he could think about it too much—
Harry let it happen.
He didn’t pull away.
Didn’t react at all, really—except for the fact that his heart was beating louder in his chest.
Cho, who had definitely noticed, hid a knowing smile behind her scarf but didn’t comment.
Instead, she looped her arm through Cedric’s free one, humming softly. "This was nice."
Cedric nodded. "It was."
Harry hummed in agreement, glancing down at their hands for half a second before looking away again, pretending like it wasn’t a big deal.
Like it didn’t make his stomach flip.
Cho nudged him playfully. "See? Not so bad, huh?"
Harry sighed, dramatic and put-upon. "Guess I’ll keep you both around for a little while."
Cho beamed. "How generous of you."
Cedric squeezed his hand—just briefly, just enough.
And for the first time in a long time, Harry let himself believe this might actually work.
---
The warmth of the evening lingered as they stepped into the dimly lit corridor, the quiet hum of the castle settling around them.
It wasn’t awkward, not exactly. But there was a newness to it, a shift in the way they moved around each other.
Cedric still had his hand in Harry’s.
And Harry—Harry hadn’t let go.
But as they reached the spot where they’d have to split off—Cedric toward the Hufflepuff dorms, Cho toward Ravenclaw, and Harry back to Gryffindor—it hit him.
This was the part where they were supposed to say goodnight.
Where the date ended.
Cedric paused first, giving Harry’s hand one last, brief squeeze before letting go. "This was nice," he said, voice low, steady.
Harry hummed in agreement. "Yeah. Wasn’t awful."
Cho rolled her eyes, smiling. "Your standards are so high, Potter."
Harry smirked. "And yet, you’re both still here."
Cho laughed softly. "Yeah," she murmured, stepping forward. "We are."
Then—before Harry could react—
She leaned up and kissed his cheek.
Soft. Brief. Just a gentle press of lips against warm skin.
And without thinking—without hesitating—
Harry’s fingers curled around her wrist, pulling her back in before she could step away.
And he kissed her for real.
It wasn’t slow, wasn’t carefully planned—just instinct, just right.
Cho made a soft noise of surprise, but she melted into it immediately, her hands slipping up to grip the front of his hoodie, keeping him close.
Cedric, standing just a step away, stilled.
His chest tightened—not in jealousy, not in uncertainty, but in something else.
Something warmer.
Because this?
This was Harry choosing.
Not running. Not hesitating.
When they finally pulled apart, Harry blinked—like he had just realized what he’d done.
Cho’s lips were parted slightly, eyes bright, surprised—but pleased.
Harry swallowed. "Uh."
Cho beamed. "Well, that was unexpected."
Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah. I—"
Cedric—still watching, still feeling that warmth settle in his chest—just smiled.
Harry’s eyes flickered to him, like he was waiting for a reaction.
So Cedric gave him one.
"You really are terrible at goodbyes," he said, voice teasing, light.
Harry let out a breathless laugh. "Yeah. Guess I am."
Cho grinned, still close enough that Harry’s fingers lingered against her wrist. "You’ll get plenty of practice."
Harry’s chest rose and fell, something unreadable flickering across his face.
But this time, he didn’t pull away.
Cedric reached forward, brushing a hand along Harry’s arm as he stepped past him. "Goodnight, Potter," he murmured, voice just low enough to send a shiver down Harry’s spine.
Cho winked. "Sweet dreams."
And then, just like that, they left.
Harry stood there for a long moment, staring after them.
Then, finally—finally—he let out a slow breath, his lips still tingling from the kiss.
And—even though no one else was there to see it—
He smiled.
---
Harry woke up feeling weirdly… good.
Which was unusual.
Because mornings were never his favorite thing. They usually came with a headache, exhaustion, or at the very least, existential dread.
But today?
He felt fine.
Better than fine, actually.
Warm. Settled.
For a brief moment, he just lay there, blinking at the ceiling, his brain catching up with reality.
And then—
Oh.
The date.
His stomach flipped.
He’d gone on a date.
With Cedric and Cho.
And he’d—he’d kissed Cho.
He had pulled her back in.
A noise escaped him before he could stop it—somewhere between a groan and an embarrassed choke—as he rolled over and buried his face into his pillow.
Unfortunately, his attempt to suffocate himself was rudely interrupted by Ron’s very loud voice.
"Alright, what’s up with you?"
Harry froze.
Then, slowly, cautiously, he lifted his head just enough to glare at Ron, who was half-dressed and looking at him like he’d just grown a second head.
"What?" Harry grumbled.
Ron narrowed his eyes. "You were smiling."
Harry blinked. "…No, I wasn’t."
"Yes, you were," Ron said immediately, pointing at him. "Like a proper, actual smile. First thing in the morning. That’s weird."
Harry groaned, flopping back onto his pillow.
Unfortunately, Ron was not his only problem.
Because at that exact moment, Hermione walked in, already fully dressed for the day, and zeroed in on Harry instantly.
"You had a date last night," she announced.
Harry groaned louder. "Why does everyone know everything?!"
Hermione ignored that. "Well? How did it go?"
Ron snorted. "Clearly well, if he was actually smiling when he woke up."
Harry scowled. "I hate you both."
"Love you too, mate," Ron said cheerfully, sitting on the edge of his bed. "Now, spill. What happened?"
Harry mumbled something into his pillow.
Hermione crossed her arms. "Harry James Potter, if you don’t lift your head and tell us right now, I will find out anyway."
Harry groaned.
But, knowing there was no escape, he slowly rolled over and stared at the ceiling.
"It was… good," he muttered.
Hermione’s expression softened immediately. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," Harry admitted.
He felt Ron eyeing him carefully. "So what’s got you acting all weird?"
Harry hesitated.
And then, because his brain had decided self-preservation wasn’t a thing anymore—
"I kissed Cho."
Silence.
Then—
Ron choked so violently he nearly fell off the bed.
Hermione, meanwhile, looked delighted.
"You what?!" she gasped.
"It wasn’t—I didn’t plan it!" Harry said quickly, already regretting speaking. "She kissed my cheek, and I just… pulled her back in!"
Ron looked personally attacked. "You pulled her back?"
Harry groaned. "Oh, shut up."
Hermione grinned. "Harry, that’s so sweet!"
Ron, meanwhile, still looked like he was processing. "So… does this mean you actually like being with them?"
Harry paused.
Because, really—that was the question, wasn’t it?
Did he like this? Did he like them?
He thought about last night.
The teasing, the competition, the way they kept him engaged without overwhelming him.
The way Cho had kissed his cheek and he hadn’t even thought before kissing her back.
The way Cedric had reached for his hand, and he had let it happen.
The way he had felt warm, steady, safe.
Harry swallowed, suddenly feeling very aware of how much that meant.
"Yeah," he admitted quietly. "I think I do."
Hermione’s face softened.
Ron sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Well. Guess that means I have to deal with three of you now."
Harry rolled his eyes. "You barely deal with me as it is."
Ron snorted. "Fair."
Hermione, clearly still pleased, patted Harry’s knee. "I’m happy for you, Harry."
Harry hesitated for half a second—then nodded. "Yeah. Me too."
For once, he actually meant it.
As soon as Ron and Hermione left, Harry flopped back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling.
Last night had been good.
Really good.
And now, in the quiet of his dorm, with no teasing friends around, he had too much time to think about it.
His phone buzzed.
He grabbed it instinctively, and—
Cedric: Morning, Potter. Sleep well?
Harry’s stomach flipped.
He hesitated for a second, then typed back, a little too fast.
Harry: Did until Ron and Hermione decided to interrogate me about last night.
Cedric: Let me guess. Hermione was thrilled, and Ron was confused but supportive?
Harry: You know me too well.
Cedric: It’s my job now.
Harry stared at that for a long moment.
It was casual, simple. But the way Cedric had phrased it—like it was natural, like it was just a fact—made something in Harry’s chest go weird.
He didn’t let himself think about it too much before responding.
Harry: That so? I didn’t realize I was such a handful.
Cedric: Oh, you definitely are.
Harry: Rude.
Cedric: But we like you anyway.
Harry had zero idea how to respond to that, so he was very thankful when, at that exact moment, his phone buzzed again.
This time, it was Cho.
Cho: ATTENTION: your girlfriend has decided that we need another date ASAP.
Harry snorted. Of course.
Before he could respond, another text popped up.
Cho: I have IDEAS.
Harry: Of course you do.
Cedric: Oh no.
Cho: Oh YES.
Harry chuckled, shaking his head.
And maybe, just maybe—he was really starting to like this.
---
Cedric was halfway through putting away his books when his phone buzzed.
Harry: I have a surprise for you and Cho. Come to my dorm.
Cedric blinked.
A surprise?
Harry wasn’t really a surprises kind of person.
At least, not the kind that involved gifts or planning ahead.
It had only been a few days since their first date, and things had been going surprisingly well—easier than Cedric had expected, even if Harry was still a little hesitant in some ways.
But now, here he was, inviting them over for a surprise?
Cedric didn’t even question it—just grabbed his hoodie, threw it on, and sent back a quick response.
Cedric: On my way.
He barely had time to head for the door before another buzz came through.
Cho: Ooooh, mysterious. Be there in 5.
Cedric smirked and shook his head.
By the time they made it to Gryffindor Tower, Cho practically bounced beside him.
"A surprise?" she mused, clearly intrigued. "Harry doesn’t do surprises."
Cedric hummed in agreement. "Yeah. Which means this is something."
Cho grinned. "Think he finally cracked and got me that amazing leather-bound book I was eyeing the other day?"
Cedric raised an eyebrow. "And what would he have gotten me, then?"
Cho snickered. "Something equally sentimental, obviously. Maybe a custom broomstick maintenance kit, since you’re such a Quidditch nerd."
Cedric chuckled. "If it’s a maintenance kit, I’m proposing on the spot."
"Bold of you to assume I won’t beat you to it," Cho teased.
Before Cedric could respond, the door opened.
Harry stood there, looking weirdly… uncertain.
Like he was nervous.
Cho grinned immediately. "Ooooh, this is gonna be good."
Harry rolled his eyes but stepped back, letting them in.
Neville was nowhere to be seen, the dorm mostly quiet except for the faint rustling near Harry’s bed.
"Alright," Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck. "This is probably stupid, but—whatever. You two were eyeing some things last time we went out."
Cho perked up.
Harry hesitated, then stepped over to his bed, reaching down and grabbing two small bags.
One red. One blue.
He turned back to them, holding them out.
"For you," he said, handing one to Cedric. Then, to Cho, "And for you."
Cho blinked.
Cedric stared at him.
Harry shifted awkwardly. "Just—open them before I start regretting this."
Cho didn’t need to be told twice.
She ripped hers open immediately and let out an actual gasp.
"You didn’t."
Cedric glanced over—only to see her pulling out the exact leather-bound book she’d been eyeing last time.
The one she had picked up three separate times, debating whether or not to buy it.
The one she had kept looking at wistfully before ultimately putting it back.
"Harry," she breathed, fingers running over the cover.
Harry shrugged, looking anywhere but at her. "You wanted it."
Cho grinned so wide it hurt. "Oh, I’m kissing you."
Harry snorted but didn’t stop her when she stepped forward and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.
Cedric, meanwhile, finally pulled his own gift from the bag—
And froze.
Because there, sitting perfectly in his hands, was a handcrafted Quidditch maintenance set.
High-quality polish. New protective gloves. A sleek, professional-grade broom servicing kit.
The exact one he had lingered on for too long in the shop window.
The one he had considered getting but ultimately walked away from.
Something in Cedric’s chest tightened.
"You remembered," he said softly.
Harry shifted again. "Yeah, well. You’re annoying when you complain about your broom, so I figured I’d fix the problem."
Cho laughed, but Cedric just smiled.
Because, despite Harry’s attempt at brushing it off, this was—a lot.
More than just a nice gift.
This was Harry noticing.
This was him paying attention, remembering, caring.
Cedric exhaled, glancing up at him. "Thank you."
Harry just grunted, but his ears were definitely red.
Cho beamed. "You’re such a sap, Harry."
Harry groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I hate both of you."
Cho hugged her book to her chest. "You love us."
Harry grumbled.
But he didn’t argue.
And Cedric?
He just squeezed the kit in his hands, feeling the weight of it.
The weight of what it meant.
Yeah.
Harry was definitely choosing them.
Cedric wasn’t sure what he had expected when Harry texted them about a surprise.
But this?
This was unexpected.
The thoughtfulness of it, the quiet way Harry had noticed—**remembered—**what they had wanted, even when they hadn’t realized he was paying attention.
Cho was still grinning like an idiot, turning the book over in her hands, genuinely glowing with happiness.
Cedric himself wasn’t much better, still turning over the broom maintenance kit, feeling the weight of what it meant.
And Harry?
Harry looked like he wanted to disappear.
Like he hadn’t quite realized what he had done until this moment, and now he was overthinking all of it.
Cho, of course, wasn’t about to let that happen.
"You know," she said, her voice casual but teasing, "I think this deserves a proper thank you."
Harry blinked, suspicious immediately. "What do you—"
Before he could finish, she leaned in and kissed him again.
Soft. Easy.
Like the one before.
Just a quick press of lips, just enough to let him know—I see you. I appreciate you.
She felt the way he froze for half a second, the way his fingers twitched at his sides like he didn’t know what to do with them.
And then—just as she was about to pull away—
Harry’s hand shot out, curling around her wrist.
And instead of letting her go—
He pulled her back in.
This time, the kiss wasn’t just soft.
It was deeper.
A little messy, a little desperate, a little like he was realizing in real time that he wanted this.
Cho made a soft sound of surprise but melted into it immediately, her fingers tangling in the front of his hoodie.
Cedric, watching from just a step away, felt his heart skip a beat.
Because this wasn’t just Cho kissing Harry.
This was Harry choosing.
Harry reaching out, Harry pulling her closer instead of keeping her at a distance.
And when they finally broke apart, Harry’s breath was uneven, his pupils blown wide, his lips just a little pink.
Cho was grinning. "Well. That escalated quickly."
Harry licked his lips, clearly trying to play it cool but failing miserably. "You started it."
Cedric chuckled, stepping in just enough to brush his hand along Harry’s arm. "You okay?"
Harry swallowed. Nodded.
Then—quieter, like he wasn’t sure if he should say it out loud—
"I think I really like you both."
Cho let out an actual squeal, immediately grabbing his hoodie and dragging him in for another kiss—this one quick, excited, giddy.
Cedric laughed, shaking his head. "You’re only just now figuring that out?"
Harry groaned, pressing his forehead against Cho’s shoulder. "I hate you both."
Cho just ran her fingers through his messy hair, still beaming. "No, you don’t."
And Harry?
Harry sighed.
And let himself be held.
---
Cedric and Cho had been waiting for Harry for almost half an hour.
They had meant for this to be a nice surprise—just something simple.
Cedric had stolen one of Harry’s hoodies (which he would definitely be teasing him about later) and had brought it to Gryffindor Tower, where Cho had stockpiled some Honeydukes sweets and a new book for them to read aloud together.
The plan was simple:
Wait in his dorm.
Ambush him with comfort and affection.
Make him blush.
Easy. Foolproof.
Except—
When Harry finally walked in, something was wrong.
He didn’t even seem to notice them at first.
Didn’t react to them waiting on his bed, didn’t give his usual exasperated sigh when he saw them invading his space.
He just—
Walked in.
Closed the door behind him.
And beelined straight for them.
Cedric and Cho barely had time to process before Harry climbed onto the bed, wedged himself between them, and turned into Cedric’s chest like it was second nature.
No words. No hesitation.
Just—pressed in close, tucked himself completely against Cedric like he wanted to disappear into him.
Cedric immediately wrapped an arm around him, eyes flicking up to meet Cho’s, startled.
Harry was tense, his body coiled like a wire, his fingers fisting into the fabric of Cedric’s hoodie.
He still hadn’t said a word.
Cho, already in caretaker mode, shifted closer, resting a gentle hand on his back. "Harry," she murmured, soft, careful. "What happened?"
Nothing.
No response.
Not even a flinch.
Just deeper breathing, like he was forcing himself to stay calm.
Cedric ran a slow hand up and down his spine, keeping his voice low. "It’s alright," he said, not pushing. "You don’t have to talk yet."
Harry exhaled against Cedric’s chest, something shaky and exhausted.
Cho glanced at Cedric again, eyes worried.
Because this wasn’t like Harry.
Sure, he was a physical person, and sure, he had cuddled with them before.
But this?
This was something else.
This wasn’t just Harry being affectionate.
This was Harry needing something.
Needing them.
Cho sighed softly, shifting even closer so that her arm curled around Harry’s waist.
"We’re not going anywhere," she whispered.
Cedric felt the way Harry relaxed slightly, shoulders sagging just the tiniest bit.
Not enough to be okay.
But enough to mean he believed them.
Cedric pressed a quiet kiss to the top of Harry’s head. "You don’t have to talk, but you can if you want to."
Another slow, unsteady breath.
Then—finally, barely above a whisper—
"Not tonight."
Cedric nodded. "Alright."
Cho kissed his temple, soft, grounding. "Alright, love."
And that was it.
No questions. No pressure.
Just the three of them, curled together in the quiet, holding onto Harry until he was ready to let go.
They didn’t push.
Not at first.
Harry had curled himself between them, buried into Cedric’s chest, Cho’s arm wrapped protectively around his waist, and they had let him sit in the silence—let him breathe.
But after a while, when his breathing had evened out and his fingers had stopped gripping Cedric’s hoodie so tight, Cho finally spoke.
"Do you want to talk about it now?"
Harry didn’t respond right away.
Didn’t shift, didn’t pull away, but Cho felt it—the way he tensed again, just slightly.
Cedric’s hand ran slowly up and down his back, reassuring, steady. "You don’t have to," he murmured, "but whatever it is, you’re not dealing with it alone."
Harry’s breath was shaky.
And then—softly, reluctantly—
"Someone stopped me on my way back."
Cedric felt his entire body go rigid.
Cho stilled instantly.
Harry swallowed, but he didn’t pull away.
"Who?" Cedric asked, voice low, controlled.
Harry shook his head. "Doesn’t matter."
"Harry," Cho said carefully.
Harry exhaled, fingers curling tighter into Cedric’s hoodie again. "They just—" He hesitated. "They told me you two were way out of my league."
Cedric’s jaw locked.
Cho felt her stomach drop.
"They said," Harry continued, voice quiet, raw, "that I should just break up with you now so you can stop pretending to be attracted to me."
Silence.
For a moment, none of them moved.
The words sat there, ugly, unforgivable.
And then—
"What?" Cho’s voice was sharp, disbelieving.
Cedric felt a cold, visceral anger settle in his chest.
"Who," Cedric repeated, firmer this time, "said that to you?"
Harry let out a bitter, exhausted breath. "I don’t know. Some random Ravenclaw. Maybe a seventh year?"
Cho’s fingers twitched against Harry’s waist, something dark flashing through her expression.
"And you just—believed them?" she asked, voice still controlled but holding back fire.
Harry shrugged slightly. "No. Not really."
"Then why are you upset?" Cedric asked gently.
Harry exhaled, finally shifting back just enough to look at them.
His eyes were tired, guarded.
But honest.
"Because it’s not like I haven’t thought about it before."
Cedric felt something ache in his chest.
Harry let out a hollow chuckle, shaking his head. "You’re—you’re both stupidly perfect. And me? I’m just—me."
Cho’s grip on him tightened. "Harry—"
"I know you like me," Harry cut in quickly. "I know that. I just—" His breath hitched slightly. "What if they’re right? What if I’m just—" He shook his head. "What if you wake up one day and realize you could do better?"
"No," Cedric said immediately.
Harry blinked.
"No," Cedric repeated, firmer this time, more certain. "We’re not doing that, Harry. You’re not less than us, and we’re not going to ‘wake up one day’ and regret this. We chose you. We’re choosing you every day."
Cho nodded, fierce, determined. "And if I hear one more person say anything about this league nonsense, I swear to Merlin—"
Harry let out a small, startled laugh, like he hadn’t expected her to be angrier than he was.
Cho’s eyes softened immediately.
She reached up, cupping his face in her hands, making him look at her.
"Listen to me," she said, voice gentler now, but just as serious. "We love you, Harry. Both of us. And you are not some charity case, and you are not some mistake we’ll get over."
Cedric leaned in, pressing his forehead against Harry’s temple. "You’re ours. And we’re yours. That’s not changing."
Harry swallowed hard.
Cedric felt the way he relaxed slightly, the way his breathing steadied just a bit.
Like maybe—just maybe—he was letting himself believe them.
Cho kissed his cheek, soft, lingering.
Cedric pressed a kiss to his hair.
Harry sighed, a little steadier now.
And finally, finally—he nodded.
"Okay," he whispered.
Cedric and Cho held him tighter.
And that was all that needed to be said.
---
Cedric and Cho had let Harry rest.
Had held him through the night, reassured him, given him the space to let himself believe them.
But now?
Now it was their turn.
Cho was the first to move.
She was not a patient person.
She had spent the entire night fuming, biting her tongue, and now that morning had come, now that Harry was still curled up in his dorm, catching up on sleep, she was done waiting.
Cedric had barely sat up before she was grabbing his wrist, eyes blazing.
"We’re finding out who said it."
Cedric nodded immediately. "Agreed."
They left without hesitation.
Because someone—some cowardly, insufferable excuse for a person—had gone out of their way to make Harry doubt himself.
And that?
That was unforgivable.
Ravenclaw Tower
Cho knew exactly where to start.
There were always a few particular people who loved to gossip, pry, act like they knew everything about everyone else’s lives.
It wasn’t hard to find them.
Just past the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room, sitting in their usual spot by the enchanted window, a group of four students—**Michael Corner, Marietta Edgecombe, some seventh-year Cho only vaguely recognized, and Roger Davies—**were chatting over breakfast.
They didn’t even notice Cedric and Cho until Cho was standing right in front of them, arms crossed, face like a storm waiting to break.
Michael was the first to glance up. "Oh, hey, Cho—"
"Which one of you," Cho interrupted, voice deceptively sweet, "decided to tell Harry Potter he wasn’t good enough for us?"
Silence.
Marietta blinked. "What?"
Cedric crossed his arms, standing just a little behind Cho, but looming enough to make an impact. "Someone stopped him in the hall last night," he said, voice even, but firm, "and told him we were out of his league. Told him he should break up with us so we could stop pretending to be attracted to him."
Michael had the decency to look startled. "Wait—someone actually said that?"
Cho’s eyes narrowed. "Yes. So if you know anything, now is the time to talk."
The seventh-year boy—Kyle something—shifted uncomfortably.
Roger, however, wasn’t nearly as subtle. His gaze flickered just slightly, just enough for Cho to notice.
Her eyes snapped to him immediately.
"Roger."
Roger froze.
Cedric saw the exact moment he realized he’d given himself away.
"Roger," Cho repeated, softer now, but sharper. "Was it you?"
Roger hesitated. "Look, I—"
Cho stepped forward.
"Was. It. You?"
Roger sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn’t mean for him to take it seriously—"
Cho saw red.
"You absolute—"
Cedric’s hand landed on her shoulder, squeezing gently, keeping her grounded.
But he wasn’t stopping her.
Just reminding her they weren’t here to start a scene.
Not yet, anyway.
Cho took a slow breath, eyes burning with fury. "What the hell made you think it was your place to say something like that?"
Roger sighed again, looking annoyed, like he was the victim in this.
"Look, I was just—" He gestured vaguely. "I was talking to a few people, and it came up that you two were dating Potter now, and I just—I don’t know. I made a comment. It wasn’t that deep."
Cedric’s jaw clenched. "A comment."
"Yeah," Roger muttered. "I just said it wasn’t gonna last because you two could obviously do better."
Cho felt her nails dig into her palms.
"You really thought that was okay to say?" Cedric asked, voice dangerously calm.
Roger huffed. "Oh, come on. He’s Harry Potter. He’s a disaster. Half the school’s shocked you’re even giving him the time of day."
"Well, we aren’t," Cho snapped. "And if you ever say anything like that to him again—"
Cedric’s voice cut in, low and even.
"You’ll regret it."
Roger looked between them, something uncertain flashing across his face.
Then, finally, he huffed. "Fine. Whatever. I won’t say anything else."
Cho wasn’t satisfied.
Not even a little.
But she wasn’t here to make him admit he was wrong.
She was here to make sure he never opened his mouth about Harry again.
And if the look on Roger’s face was anything to go by?
He wouldn’t be making that mistake twice.
Cedric exhaled, glancing at Cho. "Let’s go."
Cho hesitated for half a second.
Then—finally—she nodded.
They turned, walking away, leaving the weight of their warning behind them.
The anger still simmered beneath their skin.
Even as they climbed the stairs back toward Gryffindor Tower, even as the distance between them and Roger Davies’ absolute bullshit grew, it still sat heavy—because what he had said wasn’t just a passing comment.
It had stuck.
Had lingered in Harry’s head long enough to send him straight into Cedric’s arms last night, had been enough to make him doubt what they had.
And that?
That was unforgivable.
Cho exhaled sharply as they reached the door to Harry’s dorm.
Cedric squeezed her hand briefly, a grounding touch.
They weren’t here to bring all that anger into Harry’s space.
They were here to be with him.
When Cedric knocked lightly, the door creaked open almost immediately.
Harry stood there, hoodie oversized, hair a mess, eyes still a little sleepy but sharp.
The second he saw them, he tilted his head.
And then—narrowed his eyes.
"What did you do?"
Cho blanched immediately. "What? What do you mean?"
Harry gave her a look.
Then, turning to Cedric— "You too."
Cedric sighed, running a hand through his hair. "We just… took care of something."
Harry’s eyebrows shot up. "Oh my God."
Cho groaned, stepping inside, shutting the door behind them. "Okay, fine, we may have accidentally confronted some Ravenclaws."
Harry blinked. "Some?"
Cedric sat on the edge of the bed, looking way too composed for someone who had just intimidated half a common room. "We found out who said it."
Harry stared at them. "You what?"
Cho crossed her arms. "It was Roger Davies."
Harry’s face twisted in immediate recognition. "Ugh. Him?"
"Yeah," Cedric muttered. "Apparently, he and some of his friends were talking about us, and he made a comment about you not being ‘on our level.’"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Well, that’s stupid."
Cho pointed. "Exactly!"
Harry paused.
Then—slowly, carefully—
"You guys really went and hunted him down over this?"
Cedric sighed. "We weren’t gonna let him get away with it, Harry. Not when it actually got to you."
Harry didn’t say anything for a moment.
Then, softer—"You didn’t have to do that."
Cho stepped forward, cupping his face gently. "Yes, we did."
Harry swallowed.
And—for once—didn’t argue.
Instead, he just sighed and let himself relax into her touch.
Cedric watched as the tension in Harry’s shoulders melted away, watched as he finally accepted that they weren’t going anywhere.
Not now.
Not ever.
Cedric reached up, tugging Harry forward.
And when Harry eased down onto the bed between them, when Cedric and Cho both wrapped around him without a second thought—
It felt like proof.
Proof that Roger Davies could talk all the shit he wanted.
Because at the end of the day?
Harry was here.
With them.
And nothing—not even his own doubts—was going to change that.
---
It was only a matter of time.
Cedric knew it.
Cho knew it.
And, judging by the way Harry had been lingering closer, the way his eyes kept flickering to Cedric’s lips whenever he thought no one was looking—
Harry knew it too.
It had been a few days since their confrontation with Roger. Since they’d held Harry through his doubts, since they’d reassured him that he was theirs.
And now?
Now Harry was starting to believe it.
It was late, the three of them tucked away in an empty corner of the castle, nothing but low candlelight and the quiet sounds of their breathing.
Harry had been resting against Cedric, leaning his weight comfortably, just existing in the warmth between them.
But then—
Something shifted.
Harry turned slightly, his fingers playing absentmindedly with the fabric of Cedric’s sleeve.
Then—softer, more certain than Cedric had ever heard him before—
"Can I kiss you?"
Cedric felt his breath catch.
Cho, sitting beside them, immediately perked up, sensing the moment.
Cedric’s gaze flickered down to Harry’s, to the hint of uncertainty in his expression, to the way he was fidgeting like he thought Cedric might actually say no.
So, of course—
Cedric smiled.
"You never have to ask that, Harry."
Harry huffed. "Well, I did anyway."
Cedric chuckled, his hand moving to cradle Harry’s jaw. "Come here, then."
Harry shifted immediately.
But—there was a problem.
Cedric was taller.
Which meant Harry had to tilt his head up, stretching slightly to reach him.
For a split second, Cedric thought maybe he’d lose his nerve.
Maybe he’d huff in frustration and back out.
But then—
Harry gripped Cedric’s hoodie, fingers curling into the fabric.
And instead of pulling away—
He went for it.
He rose up on his toes, tilting his chin just enough to press their lips together, firm and unrelenting.
It wasn’t hesitant.
It wasn’t uncertain.
It was Harry Potter, determined as ever, deciding that if he wanted something, he was going to take it.
Cedric melted into it immediately.
His arms looped around Harry’s waist, pulling him closer, letting him lean in.
And Harry?
Harry sighed into it, pressing closer, letting himself be wanted.
When they finally pulled apart, Harry was breathless.
And maybe a little dazed.
Cedric grinned. "You really went for that, didn’t you?"
Harry scowled. "Shut up."
Cho, watching the whole thing with a smirk, sighed dramatically.
"Ugh," she muttered, flopping against Harry’s other side. "You boys are so stupidly romantic."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Jealous?"
Cho beamed. "Absolutely not. I get to watch. This is the best timeline."
Cedric laughed, tucking Harry closer.
And for once, Harry let himself believe it.
Notes:
You should totally join my discord server *wink wink nudge nudge*
https://discord.gg/6t4WdRBe
Chapter Text
If Cedric and Cho had planned to make a big announcement about their relationship, they probably would have done it differently.
Something smoother, more intentional.
But this?
This was classic Harry.
Because, of course, he had no idea what he was doing.
It was breakfast in the Great Hall, and the three of them had been sitting together like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Cho had been chatting with Ginny about Quidditch, Cedric had been scanning his notes for class, and Harry—
Harry had been stealing food off Cedric’s plate like a menace.
It wasn’t subtle.
Not even a little.
One second, Cedric had a full plate.
The next?
Harry had forked a piece of toast right off it, mid-conversation, not even pausing.
Cedric raised an eyebrow.
Harry didn’t even look up.
He just took a casual bite, humming like nothing was happening.
Cedric chuckled, shaking his head. "You do realize you could just get your own food, right?"
Harry, still chewing, shrugged. "Yours tastes better."
Cho snorted.
But the real problem?
They weren’t alone.
Because across the table, Seamus Finnigan had frozen.
Blinking. Processing.
Then, loudly—
"Wait. What?"
Harry finally looked up, brows furrowing. "What?"
Seamus’ gaze flickered between him, Cedric, and Cho, eyes narrowing.
Then—pointing between them like he had just solved a great mystery—
"Are you three dating?"
The entire table went silent.
Harry blinked.
Cho, who had very much been expecting this to happen at some point, just grinned.
Cedric, still composed, just raised an eyebrow. "And what if we are?"
Seamus gasped.
Dean, sitting beside him, leaned in immediately. "Wait, you actually are?"
"Hold on," Ginny cut in, looking way too smug. "Am I the only one who already knew?"
Seamus looked deeply betrayed. "You knew?!"
Ginny shrugged. "I have eyes, Seamus."
Harry, finally catching up to what was happening, let out a long, exhausted sigh.
"Merlin’s sake," he muttered, dragging a hand down his face. "Was this really how you wanted to find out?"
Seamus gestured wildly. "You literally just stole food off your boyfriend’s plate in public!"
Harry frowned. "That’s not—" He paused. Thought about it. Then—flatly— "Alright. Fair."
Seamus looked triumphant.
Cho, not one to let an opportunity slip by, smirked. "You jealous, Finnigan?"
Seamus snorted. "Oh, absolutely. Diggory, Chang, I expect joint custody."
Harry rolled his eyes. "You’re impossible."
Cedric, clearly amused, pressed a quick kiss to Harry’s temple. "You knew what you were getting into."
The collective gasps from the table were immediate.
Harry groaned.
Cho beamed.
And just like that—their secret was officially out.
Not that it had ever been much of a secret.
---
At first, the reactions had been entertaining.
Seamus had been dramatic, Dean had smirked knowingly, Ginny had been smug, and most of their other friends had been a mix of surprised and amused.
But then?
Then came the whispers.
The side glances.
The people who weren’t amused.
And that?
That was infuriating.
Because they could hear it.
The muttered comments as they left the table, the not-so-quiet whispers of:
"Really? Potter?"
"Figured they’d get tired of him again."
"Bet he’s clinging to them like his life depends on it."
"They could do so much better—"
Cedric saw red.
Cho’s nails dug into her palm.
Because this was Roger Davies’ nonsense all over again.
It wasn’t just judgment.
It was people thinking they had a right to dictate what they felt.
It was strangers deciding Harry wasn’t enough.
And that?
That was unacceptable.
Cedric and Cho exchanged a look.
And without a word—without another second wasted—
They got up and left.
Not a dramatic storm-out.
Not a big scene.
Just decisive movement, steady and sure, because they had better things to do than entertain bullshit.
And Harry?
Harry was waiting for them.
The moment they were alone, the moment they stepped into a quiet corridor, away from prying eyes—
Harry grabbed Cedric by his collar.
And kissed him.
Not soft.
Not hesitant.
Not questioning.
Just needing. Wanting. Desperate and determined.
Cedric barely had time to react before Harry was pressed up against him, fingers curled in his shirt, stealing the breath from his lungs.
When they finally parted, Harry didn’t move far.
Didn’t let go.
Just brushed his lips against Cedric’s again, barely there, voice dropping to something low and sinful.
"You two are so hot when you’re angry."
Cedric’s breath caught.
Cho grinned like a menace.
"That so, love?" she mused, stepping closer.
Harry didn’t even hesitate.
Didn’t even look away from Cedric as he reached for Cho, pulling her in with one hand, still gripping Cedric’s shirt with the other.
And then—just as desperate, just as sure—
He kissed her too.
Cho let out a soft, pleased hum, threading her fingers into his hair, smiling against his lips.
Cedric watched them, heart pounding, hands twitching with the need to touch.
Then, when Harry finally broke away from Cho, lips swollen, breath uneven, he turned back to Cedric.
Grinning. Smug. Beautiful.
"Yeah," he murmured, satisfied. "Definitely hot."
Cedric let out a breathless laugh. "Merlin, you’re impossible."
Harry beamed. "And yet, you’re still here."
Cho smirked, fingers tracing Harry’s jaw. "Oh, sweetheart, we’re not going anywhere."
And for the first time since the whispers started—
Cedric felt nothing but certainty.
Because, honestly?
Screw everybody else.
The tension from breakfast had long since faded.
They had left the whispers behind, left the judgment where it belonged—far, far away from them.
Now?
Now, they were tucked away in the library, sitting in a secluded corner, half-studying, half-distracted by the fact that Harry Potter had absolutely no filter.
It had started innocently enough.
Cedric had been reviewing his notes, Cho had been flipping through a book, and Harry—per usual—had been only pretending to focus.
And then?
Then Harry had casually ruined everything.
"I dunno how you two ever get anything done," he said, leaning back in his chair, stretching slightly.
Cho raised an eyebrow, flipping a page. "What’s that supposed to mean?"
Harry smirked. "Just that if I looked like either of you, I’d never wear clothes again."
Cedric froze.
Cho snapped her book shut.
There was a beat of absolute silence.
Then—Cedric coughed, nearly choking on air.
Cho cackled.
"Harry!" she gasped, delighted. "You cannot just say things like that in public!"
Harry grinned, completely unrepentant. "I absolutely can. And I did."
Cedric, still recovering, dragged a hand down his face. "Merlin, you’re going to be the death of me."
Harry shot him a look. "Oh? Not the first time I’ve heard that."
Cho full-on wheezed.
Cedric gave him a look of deep, exhausted affection.
"You are actually the worst," Cedric muttered, but he was smiling.
Harry leaned in, voice dropping, low and teasing.
"That’s not what you said last night."
Cho lost it.
Cedric?
Cedric just accepted his fate.
Because this—this absolute menace of a human being—was theirs.
And honestly?
They wouldn’t have it any other way.
---
The Gryffindor common room was already buzzing by the time Cedric and Cho arrived.
The music was loud, the air thick with the warmth of bodies pressed together, the golden glow of the firelight casting flickering shadows against the walls.
They were late.
Not that anyone seemed to mind—especially not Gryffindors.
Cedric scanned the room, already looking for Harry.
Cho, beside him, nudged his side. "See him?"
Before Cedric could respond, Seamus Finnigan strolled up, drink in hand, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
"You’re looking for your boy?" he asked, smirking.
Cho raised an eyebrow. "Obviously. Where is he?"
Seamus just tilted his head toward the center of the room, shaking his head with something between amusement and appreciation.
"See for yourselves," he said, grinning.
Cedric and Cho followed his gaze—
And oh.
Oh.
Harry was in the center of the room, dancing.
Not just dancing—moving with the kind of unintentional ease that made people stop and stare.
He was dressed in low-rise jeans that barely clung to his hips, the sharp cut of his hipbones teasing at the fabric’s edge, and a tight t-shirt that ended just at his bellybutton, showing off the soft curve of his waist.
And his hips?
They were moving.
Swaying, fluid and confident, rolling to the beat of the music with a kind of careless, natural rhythm that was almost unfair.
Cedric’s breath hitched.
Cho let out a low whistle.
Seamus, watching their faces, grinned knowingly. "Yeah, that’s about the reaction I expected."
Cedric barely heard him.
His eyes were locked onto Harry, onto the way his head tilted back slightly, onto the lazy, content half-smirk on his lips, onto the way his fingers skimmed teasingly over his own waist, lost in the music.
Cho, standing beside Cedric, let out a soft, appreciative hum.
"Merlin," she murmured, watching Harry like she wanted to bite. "He’s going to kill us, isn’t he?"
Cedric exhaled, something warm and electric crawling up his spine.
"Absolutely," he muttered.
Neither of them moved.
Neither of them spoke.
They just watched—and took a moment to prepare for the fact that this was the man they were dating.
And, perhaps more dangerously—
This was the man who knew exactly what he was doing to them.
Because when Harry finally glanced up, catching their eyes from across the room—
He smirked.
And kept dancing.
Harry knew exactly what he was doing.
Cedric could tell by the way he smirked when he caught their eyes.
By the way his hips moved just a little slower, rolling with intentional precision, the music winding through his body like it was something he was made for.
Cho?
Cho was having an actual crisis.
"Did he always know how to move like that?" she asked, voice slightly breathless, eyes locked onto the way Harry’s fingers skimmed over his own waist, teasing at the hem of his shirt.
Cedric, still staring, still mesmerized, just muttered, "I don’t know, but I suddenly feel like I need a drink."
Cho snorted. "Coward."
Cedric shot her a half-hearted glare, but neither of them looked away.
Because Harry—
Harry was teasing them.
He wasn’t even pretending not to.
He didn’t come to them, didn’t wave them over.
No—he just kept dancing, kept swaying, letting the music move through him, his lips curled into something smug, something knowing.
And then—the worst part—
He bit his lip.
Cedric actually groaned aloud.
Cho whispered something incomprehensible under her breath, watching as Harry turned slightly, letting the dim lighting cast sharp shadows along his waist, down the lines of his torso.
Seamus, still beside them, sipping his drink leisurely, smirked. "You two gonna do something, or just stand there and suffer?"
Cho, scowling, snatched Seamus’ drink straight from his hand and took a sip.
"Give us a minute, Finnigan," she muttered, wiping her mouth.
Harry, meanwhile, was clearly enjoying himself.
Because when Cedric and Cho didn’t move, when they just stood there, helplessly watching, Harry had the audacity to drag a slow hand up his own stomach, lifting his shirt just enough to show off the hard cut of his abdomen.
Cedric’s brain stopped functioning.
Cho made an actual, strangled noise.
Seamus just laughed. "Merlin, you’re both useless."
Cho elbowed him on pure instinct, but her attention never left Harry.
Harry, catching their reactions, just grinned.
And winked.
That was it.
That was the final straw.
Cedric grabbed Cho’s wrist.
Cho grabbed Cedric’s hand.
And together—finally, finally—they stepped forward.
Because if Harry wanted to tease them, fine.
But they weren’t about to let him win that easily.
Harry saw them coming.
And he didn’t stop dancing.
Didn’t move away, didn’t panic—
No.
He just watched.
Watched as Cedric and Cho crossed the room, weaving through the crowd, eyes locked on him like he was prey they were about to catch.
Watched as they closed the space, the heat between them turning electric, heavy.
But Harry was nothing if not stubborn.
So when Cedric finally stepped up behind him, when Cho slid in front of him, hips moving in sync with his—
Harry refused to break.
He kept his smirk, kept his cool, let himself lean into the music like nothing was wrong at all.
But then—
Cedric touched him.
Just a hand on his waist, steady and warm.
And Harry’s breath hitched.
Not much—just a little.
But Cho caught it.
Her eyes gleamed.
And then—before Harry could recover—she stepped closer, trailing her fingers teasingly up his chest, slow, deliberate.
Harry’s grip on control slipped.
Just barely—but it was enough.
Cho leaned up, voice just loud enough to be heard over the music.
"You were having fun teasing us, weren’t you?" she murmured, lips just inches from his ear.
Harry swallowed hard.
Cedric’s grip on his waist tightened.
"You’re not so smug now, are you, Potter?" Cedric teased, voice low, smooth.
Harry tried—really tried—to play it off.
But between Cho pressed close against him, Cedric’s breath against his neck, the way their bodies moved together like they’d been doing this for years—
He was losing the upper hand.
So, naturally, he did the only thing he could.
He turned the tables again.
He let himself lean into them, moving deliberately slow, deliberate in every motion, every brush of skin.
And then—voice just as smooth, just as smug as ever—
"Still plenty smug, actually."
Cedric’s chest rumbled with laughter.
Cho grinned, eyes dark with mischief.
"Oh, sweetheart," she murmured, pressing just a little closer. "That just means we’re not trying hard enough."
Harry’s smirk faltered.
And just like that—
He was the one who lost.
Because Cedric and Cho?
They had him now.
And they weren’t about to let him go.
Harry was losing.
And he knew it.
Because no matter how smug he pretended to be, no matter how well he played the game, Cedric and Cho had figured out the secret.
Harry Potter, for all his sharp tongue and teasing confidence, was absolutely hopeless when they worked together.
It wasn’t even fair.
Cho was too clever, too sharp, knew exactly how to wind him up, how to push.
Cedric was too steady, too warm, knew exactly how to make him shiver without even trying.
And together?
Together, they were overwhelming.
So when Harry finally broke, finally realized he was going to come apart if they kept this up—
He did the only thing he could.
He grabbed them both by the wrist and dragged them out of the common room.
Not a word.
No hesitation.
Just determined movement, sharp tugging, cutting through the party like nothing else existed.
Cho shot Cedric a look, half-amused, half-victorious.
Cedric, barely holding back a grin, just let it happen.
Harry pulled them down a quiet hallway, turned a sharp corner, kept going until they were far, far away from the music, the people, the teasing eyes.
Only when they were alone, in the dim glow of the castle corridor, did he finally stop.
And then—still breathless, still trying to glare at them even though it wasn’t working at all—
"You two are a nightmare."
Cedric chuckled. "That so?"
Cho leaned against the wall, smug. "Did we break you, love?"
Harry scowled. "I— shut up."
Cho laughed.
Cedric, grinning, stepped in a little closer. "If you wanted us to stop," he mused, voice low, teasing, "you could’ve just said so."
Harry glared.
"You know damn well that wasn’t an option," he muttered, still catching his breath.
Cho beamed, delighted. "Aw, poor thing."
Harry groaned, dragging a hand down his face.
Cedric’s smile softened.
"You alright?" he asked, more serious now, more real.
Harry let out a slow breath.
And—despite himself—
He smiled.
"Yeah," he admitted, rolling his eyes fondly. "Yeah, I am."
Cedric’s chest warmed.
Cho’s grin softened into something warmer, something sweeter.
And as Harry stood there, breath still uneven, eyes still a little dazed from the way they had ruined him on that dance floor—
They both realized something at the exact same time.
Harry might have dragged them away.
But he hadn’t let go.
Harry was still catching his breath.
Still pressed between them, still flushed from the way they’d taken him apart so effortlessly.
Cedric could see the way his mind was turning, the way he was trying to regain control of the situation.
Cho sensed it too.
And oh—it was adorable.
Because Harry might be good at teasing, might be good at banter, might be quick-witted and sharp-tongued—
But right now?
Right now, he was fighting a losing battle.
Still, he tried.
He shifted, tilting his head up slightly, eyes flicking toward Cedric with something unreadable behind them.
And before Cedric could even think to react—
Harry grabbed the front of Cedric’s shirt, yanked him down, and pressed his lips right against his ear.
And then—voice low, sinful, pure trouble—
"You know, Diggory," he murmured, warm breath sending shivers down Cedric’s spine, "if you wanted me on my knees, you could’ve just asked."
Cedric stopped breathing.
Cho’s mouth dropped open.
Harry grinned.
And Cedric?
Cedric was done.
Absolutely, completely, irrevocably done.
He stared at Harry, jaw clenched, eyes dark and unreadable.
Harry, pleased with himself, smug as hell, just arched a single eyebrow like he hadn’t just set Cedric’s entire soul on fire.
Cho, still processing, made an actual, strangled noise.
"Oh my Merlin," she gasped, staring at Harry in awe, disbelief, and absolute betrayal. "You’ve been holding onto that one, haven’t you?!"
Harry grinned wider. "Maybe."
Cho gasped again, scandalized. "Potter, I’m so proud of you."
Cedric still hadn’t moved.
Hadn’t spoken.
Was still standing there, blinking, clearly going through the five stages of grief.
Harry, smug beyond reason, finally let go of his shirt.
Then, just for good measure—he patted Cedric’s chest twice, condescendingly.
"Sweet dreams, love," he said, and then—turning on his heel—
He walked off.
Like he hadn’t just ruined Cedric’s entire existence.
Cho, watching Cedric’s life fall apart in real-time, barely held back laughter.
Cedric blinked.
Looked after Harry.
Then—finally—he exhaled a slow, painfully resigned breath.
"I am in so much trouble."
Cho cackled.
"Yes, love," she agreed delightedly. "Yes, you are."
---
Cedric had barely survived the night.
Harry’s words—his absolutely scandalous, downright sinful words—had been looping in his head like a cursed record.
He had barely gotten any sleep.
And now, morning had arrived.
Which meant it was time for revenge.
The second Cedric and Cho met up for breakfast, he turned to her with purpose.
Cho, sharp as ever, immediately caught the look in his eye.
Her lips curled. "Oh?"
Cedric nodded once.
"We’re getting him back."
Cho’s grin was immediate.
"I thought you’d never ask."
They walked into the Great Hall together, on a mission.
Harry was already at the Gryffindor table, chatting with Seamus, looking perfectly relaxed, completely oblivious.
Which meant—for once—he wasn’t prepared.
Cedric and Cho moved in sync, taking their usual seats on either side of him, effectively boxing him in.
Harry, noticing the way they both slid in just a little closer than usual, arched an eyebrow.
"Good morning," he said smoothly, all fake innocence.
Cedric smiled.
"Morning, love," Cho said sweetly, placing a casual hand on his thigh.
Harry froze.
It was subtle—a tiny shift, a small inhale, nothing anyone else would notice.
But Cedric and Cho?
Oh, they noticed.
Cedric leaned in, voice deliberately low. "Did you sleep well, Harry?"
Harry stilled further.
His lips parted slightly, like his brain was short-circuiting.
Then, suspiciously, cautiously—"Fine?"
Cho hummed. "Interesting."
Harry blinked. "Why?"
Cedric smirked, leaning closer. "Because we didn’t."*
Cho’s fingers traced slow circles on his thigh. "Wonder why that is?"
Harry’s face turned red.
Finally—finally—he realized what was happening.
"You two are the worst," he muttered.
Cho’s grin was wicked. "What’s the matter, Potter? You look a little flustered."
Cedric, feeling particularly smug now, just shrugged. "What was it you said last night?"
Harry glared. "I will murder you both."
Cho laughed. "Oh, sweetheart. You love us."
Harry huffed, grumbling into his coffee.
Cedric?
Cedric just smiled, victorious.
Because, for once—
Harry Potter had finally lost.
---
Harry had been endlessly patient.
For days, Cedric and Cho had teased him relentlessly, taking every opportunity to remind him of his own words, his own smug little power move.
And at first?
At first, Harry had taken it in stride.
He had rolled his eyes, groaned dramatically, let them have their fun.
But now?
Now, he was done.
Cedric and Cho should have noticed the shift earlier.
Should have caught onto the way Harry had been watching them differently, the way his patience had been stretched thin, ready to snap.
But they didn’t.
So when they walked into his dorm that evening, expecting another night of lazy teasing and soft moments—
They were not prepared.
The door had barely shut behind them when Harry grabbed Cedric by the shoulders, spun him around, and pushed him straight down onto the bed.
Cho barely had time to blink before Harry was straddling Cedric’s hips, hands braced against his chest, knees planted firmly on either side of him.
Cedric made a choked sound, completely stunned.
Cho, standing beside them, let out an actual gasp.
And Harry?
Harry just smirked.
"Alright," he muttered, settling himself more comfortably, shifting just enough to make Cedric’s breath hitch. "I’ve had enough of you two thinking you can win this game."
Cedric’s hands instinctively flew to Harry’s waist, steadying him. "Harry, what—"
"Oh, shut up, Diggory," Harry muttered, leaning down so that his nose almost brushed Cedric’s.
Cedric froze.
Cho, watching with absolute delight, finally found her voice.
"Merlin’s sake," she breathed, grinning. "Are you finally snapping, love?"
Harry turned his head slightly, locking eyes with her.
"Cho," he said, smooth, almost lazy, "you should probably sit down before your legs give out."
Cho actually whimpered.
"Potter, I swear to Merlin—"
Harry just laughed.
And then—**still straddling Cedric like he had all the time in the world—**he reached for Cho’s wrist and pulled her in.
She stumbled onto the bed beside them, completely caught in the moment, completely at his mercy.
And Harry?
Harry looked between them, triumphant, satisfied.
Then, soft, smug, against Cedric’s lips—
"Still feeling smug, love?"
Cedric swallowed.
And finally—
He understood exactly how Harry had felt a few nights ago.
Completely wrecked.
Cedric was still processing.
Still grappling with reality, with the weight of Harry straddling his hips, with the smugness radiating off of him in waves.
Harry had been patient.
Had endured days of teasing, of playful torment.
And now, he had taken back control.
Now, he was the one winning.
Cho was loving it.
She had collapsed beside them, half-laughing, half-stunned, watching Cedric absolutely short-circuit beneath Harry.
But Harry?
Harry was laser-focused.
His hands gripped Cedric’s shirt, firm and sure, holding him down like he had every intention of staying there for a while.
And then—soft, slow, deliberate—
He leaned in.
Cedric barely had time to register what was happening before Harry’s lips were on his.
It wasn’t like the teasing kisses they had shared before.
It wasn’t like the playful pecks, the quick brushes of lips.
No.
This was something else entirely.
It was deep, slow and unhurried, Harry’s weight pressing him down, his fingers tight in Cedric’s shirt like he didn’t want to let go.
Cedric let out a soft, startled noise—and that only made Harry press in further.
Cho, watching with absolute delight, let out an actual, approving hum.
"Alright," she mused, half to herself, half to the universe. "That’s very sexy of you, Potter."
Harry didn’t even pause.
Didn’t even look away.
Just deepened the kiss, lips parting slightly, letting Cedric fall completely into it.
And Cedric?
Cedric was gone.
The second he got past the initial shock, past the feeling of being completely ruined by Harry bloody Potter—
His hands slid up, gripping Harry’s waist, pulling him in tighter.
And just like that, the kiss shifted.
It became more heated, more desperate, like Harry had lit a fire in both of them and neither one wanted to put it out.
Cho laughed softly, entirely too pleased with herself.
"Alright, alright," she teased, gently running a hand down Harry’s back. "Leave some of him for me, yeah?"
Harry finally broke the kiss, breathless, lips pink and swollen.
Then, without looking away from Cedric, he just muttered, "Not making any promises."
Cedric let out a ragged breath.
Cho grinned.
And Harry?
Harry smirked.
Because this?
This was his victory lap.
For a moment, Cedric thought Harry had gotten it out of his system.
Thought that, maybe, Harry was satisfied with his victory—that the smug, breathless kiss was as far as he planned to take it.
But then—
Then Harry shifted.
And Cedric’s world tilted.
Because instead of pulling away, instead of settling down, instead of letting them breathe—
Harry rolled his hips.
Slow, deliberate, their bodies pressing together, their fronts grinding in a way that sent a sharp, electric shock straight through Cedric’s spine.
Cedric sucked in a sharp breath, fingers twitching against Harry’s waist.
Cho, beside them, let out an actual, audible gasp.
"Oh," she murmured, almost reverent. "Oh, this is happening."
Harry, smug as ever, didn’t even look at her.
Didn’t acknowledge the fact that he had completely taken control of the situation.
He just kept moving.
Slow, fluid, a rhythm that felt completely unfair.
Cedric’s hands gripped Harry’s waist tighter, grounding himself, not sure if he wanted to stop him or pull him closer.
"Harry," he managed, voice lower than he expected, breathless already.
Harry, still smirking, still moving, just tilted his head slightly, eyes dark, amused, wicked.
"Yes, love?"
Cedric let out a ragged exhale.
Cho, completely enthralled, just grinned.
"Merlin," she muttered, half-laughing, half in awe. "You absolute menace."
Harry finally glanced at her, lips quirking. "Oh, sweetheart," he mused, voice smooth, teasing, "we’re just getting started."
Cedric let out a soft curse, head falling back against the mattress.
Harry laughed, pleased with himself.
And Cho?
Cho just grinned like the world had gifted her a front-row seat to the best show she’d ever seen.
Because this?
This was Harry Potter, fully unleashed.
And they were completely at his mercy.
Harry thought he had won.
Thought he had them completely wrecked, completely undone.
And to be fair—he almost did.
Almost.
But then?
Then he made a mistake.
Because in the middle of his slow, torturous grinding, in the middle of ruining Cedric and making Cho seriously consider how she had lived this long without knowing Harry was capable of this—
He got cocky.
His smirk grew a little too wide, his hips moved a little too smugly, and he tilted his head at Cho, teasing, taunting.
"Something wrong, Chang?"
Cho’s eyes darkened.
Cedric, still beneath him, still breathless, felt it immediately.
The shift.
The way the power dynamic tilted back into their hands so smoothly that Harry didn’t even realize it yet.
Cho sat up straighter, tilting her chin, watching Harry with something dangerous behind her gaze.
Cedric saw it.
And oh—he knew what was coming.
And when Cho suddenly moved, pressing forward, pushing Harry back so that he was the one pinned between them—
Harry’s breath caught.
For the first time since this all started—
He looked genuinely caught off guard.
Cho’s hand slid up his throat, slow, teasing.
And then—as if testing the waters—
Her fingers tightened.
Just slightly.
Just enough.
Harry’s reaction was instant.
A soft, startled little sound slipped past his lips, eyes widening, pupils blown so fast it was almost unfair.
Cedric froze.
Cho, who had absolutely been expecting something, but not quite this—
Grinned.
"Oh," she murmured, voice smooth, teasing, so pleased. "Oh, you like this, don’t you?"
Harry made another tiny sound, biting his lip as if he could physically hold back his reaction.
Cedric, still staring, still processing, just let out a slow, stunned breath.
"Holy shit," he muttered.
Cho’s grin grew sharper.
Her fingers flexed slightly, watching as Harry tried—tried—not to react, but failed spectacularly.
"You absolute menace," she purred, voice dropping lower, pressing in closer, watching the way his breath hitched under her touch.
"You’ve been holding out on us, haven’t you, love?"
Harry’s fingers curled into Cedric’s shirt, gripping like he was trying to ground himself.
His thighs twitched, breath shaky, expression caught between defiance and surrender.
And Cedric?
Cedric was having the time of his life.
"Merlin, Harry," he breathed, watching, fascinated. "You really should’ve told us about this sooner."
Harry glared at him, but it had zero bite.
Cho laughed softly, breath fanning over his lips.
Then, still holding him there, still keeping him completely trapped between them—
She leaned in and whispered, voice pure sin—
"What else are you hiding from us, Potter?"
Harry made a sound that was definitely not appropriate for polite company.
And just like that—
He had lost.
For real this time.
Harry was already wrecked.
Already flushed, breathless, caught between defiance and surrender.
But Cho?
Cho wasn’t done yet.
Not when she had just learned something so deliciously important.
Not when Harry was still straddling Cedric’s hips, still gripping his shirt like he was barely holding himself together.
Not when she could see it in his eyes—
That dangerous, needy flicker.
That desperation.
So—she tested it.
Slowly, deliberately, her fingers tightened around Harry’s throat again.
Only this time?
She squeezed harder.
Not enough to hurt—never enough for that.
But enough to cut off his breath.
Enough to make his pulse pound beneath her fingers.
And Harry?
Harry whined.
Honest to God whined, his head tipping back, his entire body tensing, reacting, begging wordlessly.
Cedric actually felt it.
Felt the way Harry’s hips twitched, his thighs trembling slightly, his breath stuttering like he had never needed anything more in his life.
Cho’s smirk was slow, victorious.
She leaned in, breath fanning over his lips, over his jaw, her grip still firm, still in control.
"You," she murmured, voice all heat and satisfaction, "are an absolute delight, love."
Harry made a noise.
Not quite a word.
Not quite a sound of protest.
Something between a moan and a plea, something helpless.
Cedric, watching from beneath him, completely enthralled, let out a low, awed breath.
"Merlin," he muttered, voice raw, wrecked. "You’re stunning like this, Harry."
Harry squeezed his eyes shut, shuddering.
Cho tilted her head, watching him unravel, watching the way his fingers trembled against Cedric’s chest.
"Look at you," she murmured, dragging her thumb across his pulse.
"Do you even realize how beautiful you are when you let go?"
Harry made another desperate little sound, hips rolling without thinking.
Cho and Cedric both groaned.
And just like that—
Harry was ruined.
Completely.
Entirely.
Utterly.
---
Cedric and Cho thought they had him completely ruined.
Thought they had finally broken him down, finally turned the tables in a way that Harry couldn’t possibly recover from.
Because Harry had whined.
Had begged without words.
Had let Cho’s fingers squeeze around his throat, had let Cedric tell him how stunning he looked when he fell apart.
Had shuddered, breathless, helpless.
And for a moment—for one perfect, devastating moment—
They thought they had won.
But then—
Then Harry moved.
Deliberate. Slow. Controlled.
And before Cedric or Cho could even register what was happening—
His hands dropped to Cedric’s belt.
Cedric’s breath caught.
Cho’s eyes widened.
And Harry?
Smirking now, dangerous, eyes hooded, breath still uneven—
He unbuckled it.
Not all the way.
Not fast.
Just enough to loosen it, to lift his hips, to push Cedric’s jeans down slightly, enough to make it clear exactly what he was doing.
And then—
He started moving again.
Started rolling his hips, slow and devastating, pressing down, grinding, skin against skin, heat against heat.
Cedric’s entire body tensed.
Cho actually swore under her breath.
Because Harry wasn’t broken.
He was winning.
Again.
Cedric let out a shaky breath, hands gripping Harry’s waist on pure instinct, trying to ground himself.
But Harry just laughed softly, pleased, triumphant, pressing his forehead against Cedric’s.
"Did you really think you had me?" he murmured, teasing, smug, absolutely unbearable.
Cho stared at him in pure awe.
"Potter," she whispered, almost reverent. "You’re a menace."
Harry’s lips curled.
"And you love it."
Cho’s breath hitched.
Cedric, barely hanging on to rational thought, just groaned, fingers digging into Harry’s hips.
"Merlin, Harry—"
Harry hummed, pleased with himself, rolling his hips again just to watch them both break further.
"Say it again," he murmured, low and smug, completely in control now.
"Say my name again, love."
Cedric actually whimpered.
Cho lost her mind.
And Harry?
Harry smiled.
Because this?
This was his game now.
And they had never stood a chance.
Harry was on fire.
His **skin, his breath, his body—**everything about him was burning with need, crackling like embers ready to consume.
And Cedric and Cho?
They were helpless to stop it.
Because Harry wasn’t just moving anymore.
He was taking.
Taking control, taking his pleasure, taking everything they were giving and demanding even more.
His hips were rolling harder now, more desperate, grinding down against Cedric, the friction intoxicating, unbearable.
Cedric’s fingers were digging into his waist, gripping like he was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.
And then—
Then Harry reached up.
Trailed a hand up his own throat, skin flushed, burning, needy.
Cho’s fingers were still there, still resting against his pulse, still lingering from when she had first learned the absolute devastating truth about him.
And Harry?
He covered her hand with his own.
Pressed down.
Made her squeeze.
Harder this time.
Hard enough to hurt.
Cho gasped, stunned.
Cedric swore under his breath, completely wrecked.
And Harry—
Harry let out a sharp, desperate sound, head tilting back, breath stuttering, thighs trembling as he ground down even harder.
Cedric could feel it.
The way his body was tightening, how every motion became more frantic, more reckless.
How he was chasing something now.
How he had given in completely.
Cho’s fingers tightened instinctively under his, holding him right on the edge of pain, giving him exactly what he wanted.
And Harry?
Harry let go.
Let himself fall, let himself be consumed, let the pleasure unravel him thread by thread.
Cedric watched him, completely in awe.
Watched the way his lashes fluttered, the way his lips parted, the way his breath hitched as he lost himself between them.
Cho was just as mesmerized.
Because this?
This was Harry Potter undone.
And they had never seen anything more beautiful.
---
The air between them was thick, electric, charged with something neither of them could name.
Harry had let go, had let himself be consumed, had taken everything Cedric and Cho had given him and burned with it.
But now?
Now, he wanted to give.
Cedric was still beneath him, breath ragged, hands firm on his waist, eyes dark and hazy.
Cho’s fingers were still curled around Harry’s throat, her touch light now, resting just over the place where she had squeezed.
And Harry?
Harry felt powerful.
Not because he had won, not because he had shattered beneath them, not because he had finally gotten the revenge he so desperately craved.
But because they had given him this.
Had held him through it.
Had looked at him like he was something precious, something breathtaking, something they never wanted to let go of.
And now, it was Cedric’s turn.
Harry let out a slow breath, shifting slightly, feeling the way Cedric shuddered beneath him.
He smirked, pleased, satisfied, still rolling his hips just enough to keep Cedric on the edge.
"Still with me, love?" Harry murmured, voice low, teasing.
Cedric’s grip tightened, his fingers twitching, his chest rising and falling unevenly.
"Harry," he breathed, almost like a plea.
And Harry?
Harry loved that.
Loved the way Cedric wasn’t in control anymore, loved the way he was at Harry’s mercy, just like Harry had been at his.
So Harry didn’t stop.
Didn’t give him a chance to breathe.
Just kept moving, kept pressing closer, let his fingers roam over Cedric’s chest, his stomach, tracing the planes of his body like he was memorizing every inch.
Cedric let out a ragged sound, his head falling back against the pillow, eyes fluttering shut.
And Harry?
Harry leaned in, brushing his lips against Cedric’s jaw, whispering soft, devastating things against his skin, telling him how beautiful he was like this, how much he loved seeing him like this, how much he wanted him to let go.
And when Cedric finally did—when his breath caught, when his body tensed beneath him, when he finally broke apart with a sound so wrecked, so raw, so completely undone—
Harry just held him through it.
---
Chapter 10, Scene 10: Cho’s Turn (Cedric & Harry’s POV)
Cedric was still coming down, still trying to catch his breath, still trying to process everything that had just happened.
And Harry?
Harry was pleased with himself.
But Cho?
Cho was watching them both, eyes dark, lips slightly parted, breathing a little too fast.
Harry noticed.
Harry grinned.
"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, trailing a finger up her thigh. "Don’t think we forgot about you."
And just like that—it was her turn.
Cho had watched them fall apart.
Had seen Harry break first, unravel in their hands, trembling and gasping beneath her grip.
Had seen Cedric next, breathless and lost, his head thrown back, completely at Harry’s mercy.
And now?
Now it was her.
Harry was still pressed against Cedric, still warm and lazy with satisfaction, but his gaze was locked on her now.
Dark.
Intense.
Knowing.
And Cedric?
Cedric had recovered just enough to notice the way her breathing had hitched, the way her thighs had shifted, the way her hands were trembling slightly where they rested against the sheets.
They were both looking at her now.
And oh—she was in trouble.
Harry shifted first, crawling closer, fingertips skimming over the curve of her hip.
"Sweetheart," he murmured, all teasing, all honey-smooth confidence, "you’ve been awfully patient, haven’t you?"
Cho swallowed hard.
Cedric grinned, brushing his lips against her ear, his voice lower now, rougher.
"Such a good girl," he whispered, soft and slow, his fingers ghosting up her spine. "Waiting so nicely for us."
Cho let out a shaky breath, her skin burning beneath their touch.
Because now they were moving together again, perfectly in sync, perfectly in control.
Harry’s fingers trailed along her jaw, tilting her chin, making her look at him, and Cedric’s hands were steady on her hips, grounding her, keeping her exactly where they wanted her.
She was helpless to stop them.
Not that she wanted to.
Not when Harry leaned in and kissed her, slow and sweet, pressing closer, heat pooling between them.
Not when Cedric traced a path down her waist, hands knowing, reverent, like he was savoring every moment of this.
Not when they made her feel like this—
Like she was something to be worshipped.
Cedric’s lips moved along her throat, slow and deliberate, murmuring soft praises between kisses.
Harry kissed her deeper, his hands roaming, holding, taking.
And Cho?
Cho let them.
Let herself fall, let herself break apart, let herself be undone beneath their touch, beneath their whispered words, beneath the heat of their bodies.
Harry pressed a hand up under her skirt, his fingers finding the lacy edge of her knickers, pulling them aside to tease the pad of his middle finger around her clit, just lightly stimulating.
He reached his other hand up over Cho's shoulder to find Cedric's mouth, gently pushing his middle and ring finger into the waiting heat of his mouth.
Cedric swirls his tongue around Harry's fingers, and Harry moans slightly, looking as if he would love nothing more than to lean over Cho's shoulder and kiss Cedric again.
When his fingers are thoroughly coated, he reaches down and replaces his left hand with his right, his two fingers sliding up into her without hesitation, crooking them in just the right places, her juices gushing over his fingers as she throws her head back against Cedric's shoulder.
And when she finally shattered—
It was in their arms.
With Harry pressed against her, warm and breathless.
With Cedric holding her steady, whispering soft, grounding things against her skin.
With the weight of them both, the warmth of them both, the love of them both, wrapping around her like fire.
And she had never felt more whole.
Notes:
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Chapter Text
The world had gone quiet.
The heat, the tension, the teasing—all of it had settled now, leaving only warmth and breath and the steady, satisfied thrum of something deeply content.
Cho was the first to move.
Or rather, she tried to move.
Tried to shift, tried to breathe, tried to remember what life had been like before Harry Potter had thoroughly ruined her.
But she was trapped.
Held firm between them, between the weight of Cedric against her back and the warmth of Harry against her chest.
Neither of them were letting her go.
Not that she minded.
Cedric’s arm was slung over her waist, anchoring her, his breath deep and steady against her neck.
Harry was half-draped over her, one leg tangled between hers, his face buried against her collarbone, warm and soft and completely at peace.
Cho let out a slow, tired breath, fingers absently running through Harry’s hair.
She could feel him smiling against her skin.
Smug.
Happy.
Completely, thoroughly content.
And honestly?
So was she.
Cedric shifted slightly behind her, pressing a soft, lazy kiss to her shoulder before letting out a satisfied hum.
"That," he muttered, voice rough and sleep-heavy, "was entirely unfair."
Harry made a sleepy noise of agreement, but it was muffled against Cho’s skin.
She chuckled softly, feeling more exhausted and more at peace than she had in weeks.
"Mm," she hummed, tracing slow circles along Harry’s back. "I think we all won that one."
Cedric made a deep, pleased sound, his grip on her tightening slightly.
Harry, still half-asleep, just sighed, content and warm and completely tangled between them.
"Yeah," he muttered, voice drowsy, barely audible. "S’good..."
Cho and Cedric both smiled.
Because, for once—
Harry didn’t need the last word.
Didn’t need to banter, didn’t need to tease, didn’t need to push.
He was just here.
Safe.
Happy.
Loved.
And as the three of them sank deeper into the warmth, into the quiet, into the comfort of knowing that they belonged to each other—
Nothing else mattered.
Not the whispers.
Not the opinions.
Not the past.
Only this.
Only them.
And it was enough.
---
The world was still soft.
Still quiet.
The kind of morning silence that only comes when nothing is rushed, when there’s no urgency to be anywhere but exactly where you are.
Cedric was the first to wake.
Warm. Comfortable. Completely tangled in them.
Cho was pressed against his chest, her breath steady and slow, her fingers lightly curled against his ribs.
Harry was still curled around her, loose and relaxed, his head nestled against her shoulder, his arm draped haphazardly over both of them.
Cedric didn’t move.
Didn’t want to.
Didn’t want to break the perfect weight of them against him, the way their bodies fit together so naturally, like they had always belonged this way.
Cho stirred next.
A slow, deep inhale, her fingers twitching slightly, her body stretching just enough to press closer.
She blinked sleepily, shifting in Cedric’s arms before her eyes met his.
And she smiled.
Soft. Content. Beautiful.
"Morning," she murmured, voice still thick with sleep.
Cedric smoothed a hand up her back, fingertips grazing lightly over her spine.
"Morning, love," he whispered, pressing a slow, gentle kiss to her forehead.
Cho sighed into it, humming softly.
Neither of them spoke after that.
Just stayed there, wrapped in warmth and comfort, letting their breaths fall in sync.
And then—
Harry stirred.
At first, it was just a shift.
A slow, lazy breath, the weight of his arm adjusting against them.
Then, a slight groan, muffled against Cho’s shoulder.
Cedric and Cho both glanced down, waiting.
And then, slowly, sleepily, eyes still half-lidded—
Harry blinked awake.
For a second, he just stared.
Getting his bearings, still caught between sleep and waking.
Then, before either of them could say anything—
He leaned over Cho’s shoulder.
And kissed Cedric.
Slow.
Lazy.
But no less desperate than the night before.
Cedric froze, breath catching.
Cho let out a soft, surprised noise, but didn’t move.
Because Harry was still half-asleep, still warm and drowsy and reaching for him instinctively, chasing the taste of his lips like he needed it to start his day.
Cedric melted.
Let his fingers slide into Harry’s hair, cradling the back of his head, kissing him back just as slow, just as unhurried.
It wasn’t like last night.
Wasn’t charged with heat, with tension, with need.
It was something else entirely.
Something softer, deeper.
Something that made Cedric’s chest ache in the best way possible.
Harry let out a soft, contented hum against his lips, smiling into the kiss.
And then, when he finally pulled away, blinking at him through sleep-heavy eyes—
Cedric realized he never wanted to wake up any other way again.
They didn’t get up.
Didn’t move.
Didn’t even think about leaving the warmth of tangled limbs, the soft morning light filtering in through the curtains, the slow, steady rhythm of breath between them.
Harry, clearly not fully awake yet, seemed determined to stay exactly where he was.
Or, rather—
He seemed determined to kiss them both endlessly and never actually settle.
Because first, he turned to Cedric again.
**Still sleepy, still slow, still warm—**his lips found Cedric’s once more, brushing over them in a lazy, unhurried kiss.
It wasn’t heated.
Wasn’t desperate.
It was soft, filled with something that wasn’t rushed, something that felt like it could last forever.
Cedric let out a low hum, responding in kind, thumb grazing over Harry’s cheek, savoring the moment.
Then—just as quickly as he’d started—
Harry snuggled back down, burying his face against Cedric’s chest like he was getting comfortable again.
Cedric smiled, running slow fingers through his hair.
But before he could say anything—
Harry shifted again.
Turned.
And kissed Cho.
Just as slow, just as deep, just as full of sleepy, comfortable affection.
Cho let out a soft, pleased sigh, fingers trailing along his jaw, holding him there for a few extra seconds.
Then, Harry pulled away again.
And—predictably—
He snuggled back down.
This time against her, burying his nose in the crook of her neck, sighing softly like he was finally going to rest.
Cedric and Cho exchanged a look over his head.
Cho grinned. "Do you think he’s finally done?"
Cedric chuckled. "Not a chance."
And, of course—they were right.
Because less than a minute later—
Harry moved again.
This time turning back to Cedric, propping himself up slightly, blinking at him through sleep-heavy lashes—
And kissing him again.
Slower this time.
Lingering.
Like he had forgotten something and was making up for it.
Cedric let out a soft, satisfied hum, fingers sliding down Harry’s spine, tracing lazy patterns.
And when Harry finally pulled away again—
Cho was already waiting.
She arched a brow, clearly expecting her turn again.
Harry, completely unrepentant, grinned.
Then, just as eagerly—
He leaned over and kissed her too.
It was gentle, effortless, like breathing, like routine, like something he never wanted to stop doing.
Cho sighed against him, curling into his warmth, smiling into the kiss.
Cedric just shook his head fondly, watching as Harry once again collapsed between them, arms thrown lazily over both of them like he was claiming them as his own personal pillows.
"You do realize," Cedric mused, running absent fingers through Harry’s messy hair, "you’re never getting out of bed at this rate, right?"
Harry let out a contented, half-asleep hum.
"That’s the point."
Cho laughed softly, brushing a hand up Harry’s arm, voice teasing.
"You’re impossible."
Harry grinned against her shoulder.
"And you love me."
Cedric chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of Harry’s head.
"Yeah," he murmured, soft and honest. "We do."
And for the rest of the morning—
They stayed like that.
Wrapped in warmth, wrapped in love, wrapped in endless, sleepy kisses.
Because if this was what mornings with Harry felt like—
Neither of them ever wanted to wake up any other way again.
---
Eight months later, they had graduated, and settled into Grimmauld place.
Grimmauld Place had changed.
Once cold, dark, and lifeless—it was theirs now.
Warm. Lived-in.
The kind of home that felt filled with love, with laughter, with a future.
And right now?
Right now, that future was lounging comfortably in Harry’s bedroom, tangled on his bed like they had nowhere else in the world to be.
Cedric was propped up against the headboard, flipping absently through a book, one hand resting lazily on Harry’s thigh.
Cho was sprawled on her stomach, kicking her legs slightly, scribbling something in a notebook, her hair falling over one shoulder.
Harry?
Harry was fidgeting.
Not obviously.
Not in a way that anyone else might have noticed.
But Cedric and Cho had been watching Harry for years.
And right now?
Right now, Harry kept shifting.
Kept glancing around the room like he was expecting someone to burst in.
Kept fidgeting with his sleeves, his rings, his everything.
Cho paused her writing.
She glanced up, raising an eyebrow. "Harry, love, what’s going on?"
Harry’s head snapped up.
"Nothing," he said way too quickly.
Cedric lowered his book, eyeing him. "You’re fidgeting."
"I don’t fidget."
Cho snorted. "You fidget constantly."
Harry scowled, crossing his arms. "Okay, well. Maybe I’m just thinking. Ever considered that?"
Cedric arched a brow. "Thinking about what?"
Harry’s mouth opened.
Closed.
Opened again.
Then, with a quiet, slightly frustrated noise, he reached into his pocket, fumbling for something.
Cho and Cedric both sat up slightly, watching as Harry’s fingers clumsily pulled out—
Two small, velvet ring boxes.
And suddenly, everything stopped.
Cedric felt his heart lurch.
Cho’s breath caught audibly.
Harry, meanwhile, looked like he wanted to sink into the floor.
He cleared his throat, staring down at the boxes in his hands, very deliberately not looking at either of them.
"So," he said, voice half-mumbled, half-nervous. "I—um. I had a whole plan for this."
Silence.
Harry grimaced.
"Okay, well. Not a whole plan. More like a—whatever, that’s not the point."
He finally glanced up, eyes flicking between the two of them, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Look," he muttered, shifting on the bed, "this isn’t— I mean, if you don’t— Merlin, I had a speech, I swear—"
"Harry."
He froze.
Cedric’s voice was soft, careful, warm.
"Are you proposing to us?"
Harry opened his mouth.
Paused.
Then, after a beat—
"Maybe?"
Cho made an actual, broken noise, one hand flying up to her mouth.
Harry groaned, running a hand down his face.
"This is not how I meant to do this," he muttered. "You were supposed to cry, or—or kiss me, or something! I had a whole thing!"
Cedric, still in absolute shock, still processing, finally let out a slow, stunned breath.
"You are proposing to us."
Harry let out a tiny, frustrated groan.
"Yes! Okay? Yes!"
He looked between them, expression caught between nervous and exasperated.
"I’m proposing to you. I want to marry you. Both of you."
His fingers tightened around the ring boxes.
"And I swear," he added quickly, "if one of you makes a joke about how you already knew, I will actually murder you right now, romantic moment be damned."
Silence.
Then—
Cho let out an actual, choked laugh, her eyes shining.
Cedric just stared at Harry.
At this ridiculous, beautiful, nervous, frustrating man in front of him.
And then, without another word—
He surged forward.
And kissed him breathless.
Harry barely had time to breathe before Cedric was kissing him.
And not just kissing him—
Devouring him.
It was fierce, desperate, absolutely wrecking, like Cedric had been waiting his entire life for this moment.
Like he had never wanted anything more.
Harry made a soft, startled sound, hands fumbling to steady himself, the ring boxes nearly slipping from his grasp.
But he didn’t pull away.
Didn’t hesitate.
Just melted into it, fingers tangling into Cedric’s shirt, clutching onto him like he was afraid he might disappear.
Cedric’s hands framed Harry’s face, holding him there, kissing him like he needed him to understand—
That of course the answer was yes.
That of course he wanted this.
That of course he wanted forever.
And then—
Cho sniffled.
Loudly.
Cedric and Harry both froze, lips still half-pressed together, breathing uneven.
Harry blinked, dazed, turning slightly—
And Cho?
Cho was a mess.
Tears streaming down her face, hands clamped over her mouth, entire body trembling with an overwhelming mix of joy and disbelief.
Harry’s heart dropped.
"Oh, no—"
"I’m fine," Cho sobbed, shaking her head rapidly. "I swear, I’m— you absolute bastard, Harry Potter—"
Harry’s eyes widened, panicked. "Wait, did I—"
"I’m going to kill you for this," she gasped, wiping at her eyes aggressively, shaking her head, trying and failing to get herself together.
"I hate you so much, I love you so much, oh my God—"
And then—before Harry could process anything—
Cho tackled them.
Launched herself straight into them, practically knocking them over, burying her face into the crook of Harry’s neck, still sobbing.
"Yes, you idiot, yes, of course yes, oh my Merlin, I hate you so much—"
Harry let out a soft, breathless laugh, relief flooding him so suddenly he thought he might actually collapse.
"Okay," he whispered, wrapping his arms tight around her, pressing a kiss into her hair. "Okay, okay, love, breathe—"
"Don’t tell me to breathe," she sniffled, gripping onto him tighter.
Cedric, still holding onto Harry’s waist, still smiling like an idiot, just shook his head.
"I think you broke her, mate."
Harry let out a watery chuckle, still trying to soothe her.
"I know."
Cho lifted her head, blinking at them both.
Her eyes were still shining, cheeks still damp, lips still trembling.
But she was smiling.
Bright. Blinding.
Like she had never been happier.
"You really want to marry us?" she whispered, voice shaking.
Harry swallowed.
Felt his entire chest tighten.
And then—soft, steady, certain—
"I already decided I’m spending forever with you," he murmured. "I just figured we should make it official."
Cho made another broken noise.
And then—with all the love and affection in the world—
She kissed him.
And then kissed Cedric.
And then kissed Harry again.
And when she finally pulled away—
Cedric cupped Harry’s jaw, his own voice thick with emotion.
"We love you so much, Harry," he murmured. "You know that, right?"
Harry let out a soft, shaky exhale.
"Yeah," he whispered, leaning into their touch, into their warmth, into the two people he had chosen for the rest of his life. "I know."
And then, in the quiet morning light, tangled in their arms, breathless and overwhelmed and endlessly, endlessly loved—
Harry Potter let himself believe it.
Harry was trying.
Trying so hard to keep it together.
Trying so hard to do this right.
Because the moment had been perfect.
Cho had said yes.
Cedric had said yes.
They had kissed him breathless, held him like he was something precious, something irreplaceable.
And now?
Now, it was time to seal it.
To actually put the rings on.
To make it real.
But his hands—Merlin, his hands were shaking.
He had managed to flip open the first box, had barely slid the ring onto Cedric’s finger—
And then—
Then his breath hitched.
And his vision blurred.
"Oh, fuck—"
The first tear slipped down before he could stop it.
"Oh, no, no, no—"
Cho’s eyes widened. "Harry—"
"I’m fine," he croaked, blinking rapidly, sniffling aggressively. "I swear, I’m fine—"
Cedric and Cho exchanged a glance.
Then, at the exact same time—
Both of them wrapped their arms around him.
Harry let out a strangled, choked laugh, hiding his face against Cedric’s shoulder as more tears spilled over.
"Oh, my God, I’m such a mess," he mumbled, half-laughing, half-sobbing. "I was supposed to be—cool—"
"You were never cool, love," Cho whispered, kissing his temple, rubbing soothing circles into his back.
"Not even once," Cedric agreed, grinning as he squeezed Harry tighter.
Harry sniffled dramatically. "You’re both—so rude—"
"And you love us," they chorused.
Harry let out a shaky, breathless laugh, nodding against Cedric’s shoulder.
"Yeah," he whispered, voice thick with emotion, "I really, really do."
Cho pulled back first, cupping his tear-streaked face gently, smiling at him like he was the best thing she had ever seen.
"Do you want me to do it?" she asked softly, nodding toward the ring still in his trembling fingers.
Harry sucked in a deep breath.
And—through the tears, through the overwhelming, through the sheer weight of knowing they were his, forever—
He shook his head.
"No," he whispered, voice steadier now. "I want to do it."
Cho and Cedric watched, eyes shining, completely still as Harry finally slid the ring onto Cho’s finger.
As he took Cedric’s hand again, brushed his thumb over his knuckles, and placed the second ring properly where it belonged.
As he exhaled, deep and shaky, finally—finally—done.
And then—before anyone could even breathe—
They both grabbed his face and kissed him.
At the same time.
Harry let out a surprised, delighted laugh, arms wrapping around both of them, heart so full he thought he might burst.
Because this was it.
This was forever.
And he wouldn’t change a single thing.
They didn’t move.
Didn’t rush.
Didn’t do anything except breathe each other in, wrapped in the warmth of their own little world.
Harry was pressed between them, tucked safely into their arms, his face still a little damp from his earlier tears.
Cedric’s fingers were tracing slow, lazy circles against his back, keeping him close, grounding him.
Cho was brushing soft kisses against his temple, murmuring sweet, quiet things in between.
None of them spoke for a while.
Didn’t need to.
Because this—
This was everything.
Eventually, Harry let out a slow, contented sigh, shifting slightly, nuzzling further into Cedric’s chest.
"So," he mumbled, voice sleepy, slow. "What now?"
Cho smiled, tangling their fingers together where they rested against his stomach.
"Now," she murmured, soft and certain, "we plan the wedding, obviously."
Harry let out a soft, breathy laugh, tilting his head to look at her.
"Oh, do we?"
Cho grinned. "Yes, Potter, we do."
Cedric chuckled.
"And what exactly does a Harry, Cedric, and Cho wedding look like?" he mused, brushing a kiss over the crown of Harry’s head.
Harry hummed, eyes half-lidded, lost in thought.
"Dunno," he admitted, sleep-heavy. "Probably a disaster. Maybe Seamus will set something on fire. Maybe Fred and George will switch out the wedding cake with something horrifying."
Cho snorted. "That sounds about right."
"Mm," Harry sighed, nuzzling closer, letting his eyes drift shut. "As long as you two are there, I don’t really care what happens."
Cedric felt his chest tighten, warmth spreading through him like sunlight.
Cho squeezed Harry’s hand a little tighter.
"We’ll always be there, love," she whispered, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the side of his face.
Cedric nodded, whispering against his hair. "Always."
Harry let out a slow, contented sigh.
And as he finally, fully drifted off, tangled between the two people who would love him for the rest of his life—
He smiled.
Because this?
This was everything he had ever wanted.
And now?
Now, it was his.
Forever.
Notes:
You should totally join my discord server *wink wink nudge nudge*
https://discord.gg/6t4WdRBe
pineCone (Guest) on Chapter 1 Sat 22 Feb 2025 08:02PM UTC
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Atram_Marta on Chapter 4 Wed 26 Feb 2025 09:17PM UTC
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Atram_Marta on Chapter 5 Thu 27 Feb 2025 10:26AM UTC
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