CHAPTER 31

EDGE OF SEVENTEEN

July 18, 1964

"...no, no, NO! I specified black wool and not black tweed, in the name of the Dark Lord, its two totally different things!" Lily said grimly "And it has to be cold wool, do you hear me? Cold wool! It's summer, it can't be heavy fabric..."

Even with the phone pressed to her ears, everyone else heard the noise of the female voice coming from the other end of the line. James smiled to himself as he saw his wife more active (to not say tyrant) than usual, making sure that every little detail was nothing short of exceptional.

"Yes, yes. Can you guarantee me that it will be ready today?... Okay. He'll be there in a little while!" she replied, glancing at Harry sitting on the opposite side of the table "No... That's all."

Lily hung up the phone impatiently, making the object to float back to its original place while turning her attention to her family and the breakfast served in front of her.

It was Saturday morning.

While the Muggle families enjoyed that typical day of rest, the witch families of the Godric's Hollow coven were eager to celebrate their children's 1st Communion, an important event for all young people in the community.

But "anxiety" was almost an understatement to describe the mood at the Potter Manor: James and especially Lily seemed to be euphoric as that was the week they had been waiting for years.

"Problems darling?" James asked with a smile as he read The Daily Prophet.

"Yes. It seems to till I'm ordering a couture dress instead of a simple cloak!" she complained, drinking the coffee.

"Give her a pass... Old Malkin no longer has the same vigor as before." James winked at her "I think it was she who sewed Judas' underwear or something..."

Lily couldn't help but laugh.

"It may be... But I hope that at least she can make what I ordered. Everything has to be perfect!" she replied "And by the way, how's your cloak? Is it in good condition? If not, I'll ask Harry to take it and..."

"It's in perfect conditions, sergeant." he said, pretending to salute.

She rolled her eyes at her husband.

"Marvelous. One less thing to worry about." she said relieved "Harry, you're going to have to go to Madame Malkin after you finish your breakfast, okay? If only there was another witch dressmaker here in this city, we would already have this cloak... Harry?'

He didn't answer.

Lily then realized that she hadn't heard a word from Harry during the entire morning, causing her to stop to watch him: he was motionless in his chair, his gaze fixed on a point on the table, his face distant, introspective and his breakfast still untouched.

"Harry?" she called out to him, frowning.

Nothing.

"Harry!" she repeated firmly, making him have a small start when he saw that his parents were looking at him "I'm talking to you!"

"Sorry Mummy, I..." he babbled visibly confused and fell silent.

"Did you hear at least one word of what I said?" she asked.

Harry shook his head, making her raise her eyebrows.

"I was saying that after eating your food, you have to go to the dressmaker to do the final proof of your cloak." she looked at him carefully "What's wrong?"

He looked down.

"I'm just tired... I didn't sleep well." he answered honestly. Over the past few weeks he barely rested, making him feel just as tired physically as he was emotionally.

Lily's face was concerned, but little by little she smiled.

"Oh, I see... I understand perfectly." she said, pouring herself more coffee "You know, when I was your age I was barely able to sleep on the week of my 17th birthday, so anxious that I was. I think we all go through the same thing!"

Harry smiled slightly, tired or too indifferent to contradict her, after all it wasn't anxiety that he felt but a feeling close to dread.

"My father, your grandpa, may the Dark Lord have him, always told me that the baptism would be the moment when my life would finally begin." James looked at the two before reading again.

"And he was right!" Lily agreed in nostalgia "I'll never forget the feeling I had after my baptism... It was like... It was like I was reborn!"

"Like a glorious phoenix from the ashes..." James teased with a gallant wink.

Lily laughed again but was quiet at the silence of Harry, who was still looking down.

"Harry..." she said softly "I know... That you're scared. I can see."

Harry looked up at her, his green eyes looking at her intently.

'Oh, please, please...' he pleaded mentally, grasping that little hope he still had.

"And I also know that the prospect of leaving this phase of your life behind can be daunting..." she said "But I guarantee that whatever you think you'll lose, in the end it will seem small in the face of the wonderful things that you can do when become a real wizard... To have your magic, your wand, to go to Hogwarts... So many possibilities!"

"And of course, other things that you don't even think you can do or be." James scored when looking at his son.

Harry felt hope go down the drain for good.

'I'm such an idiot,' he thought, struggling to offer a smile as the two continued to speak.

"May I leave?" he whispered at one point, putting his napkin on the table.

"But you barely touched the food!"

"I'm not hungry..." he replied quietly.

"Well... If you wish... James? Take Harry to there."

"It's not necessary. I'll go by bicycle."

Harry gave a final nod before leaving the dining room, closing the door softly behind him; Lily stared at the door for a few seconds, looking puzzled.

"What is it, love?" James asked as he looked at her, putting the newspaper aside.

"Something is... odd. He's acting odd."

"Of course, he's odd. He's a teenager." he shrugged.

Lily shook her head.

"No... It's something else... Something else..." she rambled, her expression getting stern as she looked at her husband "James?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think Harry is considering..." she pressed her lips in a thin line, unable to end that odious assumption "You know what I mean."

James looked at her.

"No. Of course! He's just... Nervous, apprehensive and... Anxious. It's normal Lils... We all went through this."

Lily was silent, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Yes, you're right." she said at last, going back to thinking about all the things she should organize for that important week.

As Lily and James finished their breakfast, Harry walked slowly down the corridors, observing the paintings of his ancestors, generations of different members of the Potter family in which built the legacy of his house and in the coven... It was hundreds of years of history and tradition that culminated in him, the only heir.

A burden on his shoulders that made him feel heavier, bordering on unbearable... Especially on that week.

Upon arriving at the staircase, he stopped when he saw the painting of him and his parents hanging in a place of honor on the opposite wall, watching and being observed by the smiling and perfect trio. He flinched.

'Don't be overwhelmed, Harry...' Hermione's voice echoed in her mind 'You don't have to suffer in anticipation'.

'Listen to her Harry, she's right. I don't always say that, but she's right!' Ron told him, earning a grateful look from the witch.

He remembered the bitter laugh he gave in response as well as the fear he felt that day when Hermione and Ron discovered that he and Cedric were secretly dating.

Although they were more tolerant than their parents' generation, Harry was afraid that his friends would judge him for dating another boy.. . And the fact that this boy was a muggle, a Christian muggle... And mostly afraid that two told someone in the coven, figuring it was the "best" for him.

'Of course I wouldn't do that, Harry! Never!' Hermione said indignantly, 'Neither Ron nor me! We're friends!!!'

'That's right, mate! We are friends! I'm just upset that you didn't tell us before!!!' Ron added indignantly that he hadn't been able to notice the signs Hermione had observed.

Harry then told about Cedric and as he did, he realized how relieved he was to be able to share with his friends something that made him so happy over the past few months. The fear of being rejected gave way to relief in being understood, but relief soon went down the drain.

'Harry... I'm really happy for you. I'm happy you're happy, but...' Hermione said cautiously 'You know what you have with Cedric can't go any further, right?'

Harry rubbed his forehead, trying to ignore Hermione's words in which summed up his anxieties and fears... Fears that had accumulated over the past year and that reached the climax on that week, that bloody week in which he so wanted to escape.

In seven days he would be 17 years old.

In two weeks, when the moon was full, he'd receive his Dark Baptism and sign his name on the Book of the Beast...

...that is, if he chose to be a wizard, if he chose to follow the Path of Night.

He should make a choice and he should make it soon.

. . .

Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions was the most prestigious fashion shop in Godric's Hollow.

It was there that the population - generally the distinguished ladies and young fashionistas - resorted when they wanted to dress a la mode; in this elegant place adorned with mirrors and fabrics of the most diverse types, there was Madame Malkin herself, an equally elegant lady with white hair and dressed in lilac from head to toe.

But what they didn't know was that old Malkin was a witch and that behind one of the shop's mirrors there was a room dedicated only to dressing the wizards and witches of the city's coven.

It was there that Harry at that moment, was standing on top of the stool while the measuring tape floated around his body, the black fabric on his shoulders giving the illusion that he was paler than normal, his dark circles highlighted in his reflection in the mirror.

'As if my mood is not visible enough.' he thought sarcastically.

"I don't want to know about excuses, the only thing I want is my cloak!!!" the angry male voice made Harry out of his introspection "If it's not ready, you can be SURE that my father will know about it!"

'Ah... It had to be him...' Harry thought with a tired sigh.

"Honey, I'm with a client now, can you come later?" the old lady kindly asked.

"No! If you can attend one, you can attend me too, I am a priority!!!" he replied sharply, entering the room like a tornado.

Harry didn't turn around, but he saw the "client's" face change from irritation to surprise through the reflection of the mirror.

"Ahhhhhh , what a surprise!" Draco exclaimed when he saw him, using his typical tone of voice that strolled between the debauchery and the sincerity "Cousin, I didn't know you were there!"

Harry blew out a breath.

"That was my intention..." he whispered.

"What?" the platinum blond asked in confusion as he climbed onto the stool next to him, the black fabric floating and resting on his shoulders.

"Nothing. Forget it..." Harry replied, looking at the Malfoy heir "How are you, Draco?"

"Furious!" he said loudly "Even though father paid well, I still don't have my cloak."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"You're quit absent, you know..." Draco looked to him with the corner of his eye "You never paid me a visit in my house."

"I didn't have time..." he replied while looking ahead.

"There was no time for me, you mean." Draco countered by extending his arms to be measured, pins being put in the fabric "But there's plenty of time for that Weasel, Granger and of course, that Muggle mutt from your Muggle school. Frankly, Potter... OUCH! YOUR PIN HAS SPITTED ME!"

"Sorry, dear... It won't be repeated! " the old dressmaker blinked in confusion, making a gesture with her wand while earning a murderous look from the blonde.

Harry smiled with satisfaction as he looked down. Ah, the wonders of non-verbal spells...

"For your own good, it's good to be!!!" the blond replied, looking back at Harry "But as I was saying, you have time for them, but not for me."

"If I didn't know you, Draco, I'd say that you miss me."

The blond sucked air through his mouth, turning red and his eyes wide.

"Me?! Missing you?! You have to miss companies like mine, Potter!" he spat out the surname dramatically.

Harry rolled his eyes again, adjusting his posture as the cloak was sewn.

"But changing the subject..." Draco lifted his pointed chin and eyebrow arrogantly "Ready for tomorrow's First Communion?"

Harry shrugged, looking down.

"I can't believe we're so close to ending this mediocre little life of demi-wizards."

The Potter heir stood still while the needle sewed the hem of the cloak, staring at himself as he felt his family doubt arise.

"Draco?" he mumbled hesitantly after a few minutes.

"Yes?"

Harry shifted sheepishly.

"Have you... Have you ever thought of being something other than a wizard?" he asked in a low tone, looking at the other teenager.

Draco frowned.

"What?'

"You know... Being... Another thing."

"Be what?" he asked confused.

"You could be other things besides a wizard..." the green-eyed teenager pondered "You know..."

Draco was silent, gradually making an expression of outrage.

"If I didn't know you, cousin, I'd say you're asking if I would betray my blood!"

Harry was silent.

"There is nothing I want more than to be a wizard, like my father or grandfather. I can hardly wait to get to my 17th birthday and sign my name." he said with an ambitious gleam in his pale blue eyes "To go to Hogwarts, can you imagine?!"

"Yeah..."

"My father is already buying my books and my mother has already ordered my wand at Ollivanders... But what I want is a decent broom instead of those old things I know they have over there at Hogwarts. Have you thought about which house you'll be select to, Harry? I hope we stay at the same house..."

Harry shook his head as he looked at himself in the mirror.

"I bet Uncle James wants you to be in Gryffindor, but I can't tell... I mean, I'm pretty sure I'm going to Slytherin. Of course I'm going to Slytherin... Blaise and Pansy too. Hell save me from going to Hufflepuff, I'd rather cut my throat with a rusty knife than suffer this humiliation." he babbled.

The green-eyed wizard was silent, letting Draco speak while listening less and less to what he said.

Of course, he wouldn't understand.

Since, like many others, he has always followed the playbook of the good pureblooded heir, always looking anxious to please his parents, to please the coven and the Church, to be a complete wizard... Harry also did the same thing, but the difference was that while he pretended, the blond did it for pleasure.

Draco was a brat in many ways, but Harry couldn't help feeling a little jealous of him because he was sure of what he wanted and the path he would take, unlike him who balanced himself on the tightrope of indecision.

"Your cloak is ready, dear, I'll send it to your house tomorrow morning." Madame Malkin said to him at one point "Do you want to make any more adjustments here?"

Harry blinked quickly at her, feeling relief.

"No, ma'am, thanks, I'll be going." he said, coming down from the stool immediately.

"Hey, Harry! Do you fancy a pop after we leave here?" Draco said, looking after for the elderly "This won't take long, right?"

"I'm afraid so..." she replied, making the teenager frown.

"I can't... I have to go home." Harry said without even looking at him "We leave it for the next time..."

"See you tomorrow night, then."

"Yes..." Harry sucked air out of his mouth, leaving the proof room "I'll see you tomorrow night."

Harry didn't go home.

Sometime after wandering the city streets with his bicycle, he ended up sitting on an empty bench in the main square of the town, watching the movement around him, trying to distract his head.

Children running around the playground... Seniors playing chess outdoors... Mothers walking with their babies in strollers... Teenagers, some of them being ex-classmates, stopping to greet and chat...

A typical summer weekend in a small-town, with normal people leading no less than normal lives.

He envied them.

Just as Harry was jealous of Draco's certainty, he was also jealous of his former classmates, muggle teenagers who had common concerns at that age: whether they would go to university... what career would they pursue... if they would move to bigger cities or stay in their hometown...

'What I wouldn't give to have these problems...' he thought frustrated 'They have no idea how lucky they are!'

DOOMM DOOOOM , DOOMM DOOOOM , DOOMM DOOOOM

The resounding sounds of heavy bells echoed throughout the square, followed by the bustle of children leaving the playground and going to their parents who called them by name. Other adults also responded to the bells, checking their watches and saying goodbye to each other as they went their own way.

Harry looked at the origin of the sound, almost snorting in irritation when he realized what it was about: the Catholic Church of Godric's Hollow and its bell choir that announced to the city that it was already noon.

'HELL, I CAN ONLY BE BEING PURSUED BY CHURCHES!!!' he roared internally as he got up from the bench, so irritated that it was as if he had been expelled from there.

Walking over to his bike, Harry thought of places he could stay in other than his home: his first option was at The Burrow, but he soon dismissed it - the Weasleys should be just as busy with Ron's First Dark Communion as his parents... The same was true for Hermione, in which she had already bought her material for Hogwarts in Diagonal Alley, she chattered nonstop on the subject.

No... He couldn't go to his friends' house.

'Or nothing that is close to or related to the coven!' he sighed.

He could go to his and Cedric's secret place... His boyfriend was working at the Chang's market at the time, giving him the opportunity to be completely alone with his thoughts.

But he also rejected the alternative: the sight of the ruined cottage with its ivy-covered walls that were once a "castle" for them, the trees on which they both climbed, the lawn on which they both lay... It would make him sadder - and disturbed - than he already was.

The Church bell rang again, causing him to stop walking and slowly, very slowly he turned his attention to the building, lingering there for a few seconds.

'No... It's crazy...' he thought, shaking his head in denial as he went back on his way to nowhere.

The bell rang again, and then fell silent...

...And again Harry stopped, his gaze turning over there.

He opened his mouth to say something not very pleasant but closed it abruptly, knowing how stupid he would look, even if there was no one around.

But he still felt stupid.

For it was stupid to have that feeling that precisely that place of all was calling him.

'No... It's my impression.' he thought trying to be rational.

Witches were forbidden to set foot on Christian or consecrated grounds, they were forbidden to go to places where went against their faith, places where they could offend the honor of the Dark Lord.

It was a kind of "sin" for them.

A part of Harry - the obedient part in which he respected what his parents and mentors who had instructed him since he was a little boy - told him to turn around and go home...

...And his other part just left him standing there, looking at the neo-Gothic building built in ethereal shades of light gray and white that transmitted an angelic aura in the bright sunlight.

'Oh...' he thought in disbelief.

Technically it would be the perfect place: the chances of finding there someone from the coven would be zero... It's an unknown place, he'd have no memories that would make him more confused... And he knew that the Mass had already ended for some time...

"I'm nuts!" he said softly to himself, walking slowly and looking around to check that no one saw him.

He felt cold in his stomach and his heart beat faster... He felt the growing paranoia when trying to see around him a witch or wizard, these hidden somewhere... He felt shaky when he put his bike in the right place, his legs also looking unstable with every step he took on the porch of that building that had been banned until then.

And it was with his breath caught that he slowly opened the heavy wooden door, entering through the crack and then closing it behind him. Only then Harry remember to breathe again, even though the sight before his eyes was breathtaking.

'Beautiful...' was his first thought, his mouth half open and eyes marveling.

The Catholic Church of Godric's Hollow was almost a twin architectural version of the Church of Night, only much more luminous, beautiful and why not, angelic: the multicolored stained-glass windows on the side walls formed images of saints as well as there were biblical scenes in which Harry was obviously unaware... The sunlight passed through the stained glass windows, bathing the interior of the church with an infinity of colors that gave the impression of being in a dream that was so beautiful and magical that it was...

The ceiling was also beautiful: painted with a blue sky and soft white clouds, winged angels flew and seemed to be watching him from above, some bearing olive branches, others holding stars... It was all very beautiful and very silent. Harry could feel the remnants of the incense perfume used at that morning's mass, liking that smell more than what was used in the dark mass of his coven...

Even though he was alone, he couldn't help to feel that unusual sensation of shyness and nervousness as if he were entering someone's home without the owner's permission; biting his lower lip, he walked silently to the last seat, sitting in the most isolated corner of all.

'So it's here...' he thought as he looked up '...the place where the followers of the Path of Light come...'

With his eyes closed, he took a deep breath, his lungs filling with air as if he were doing it for the first time in years, each breath loosening his mental knots and his head becoming clearer, calmer.

It was good.

Opening his eyes, Harry saw on the bench in front of him a small Bible forgotten by someone from the morning mass. He raised his fingers to it, hesitating halfway for a few seconds... He looked at the object for a while, until at last he took it.

He had never touched a bible other than the satanic one, in which he, as an former acolyte, knew several verses by heart...

But that one was different.

Harry looked around, slowly picking up the book and leafing through the pages of thin paper until the first chapter.

Genesis.

"In the beginning..." he read softly, feeling his frantic heart in his chest when he learned how much he was transgressing the laws of his people at that moment "...God created the heaven and the earth."

He continued reading.

Word for word, heart leaping from his chest and a dry mouth of nervousness, so immersed in the narrative and the cadence of his own voice that he didn't even notice the soft sound of footsteps and rustling of fabrics next to him. Only when he smelled the unusual smell of sherbet lemon, he noticed he wasn't alone anymore.

"Hello..." the velvety voice came from behind him.

Harry stood up suddenly from the bench, the Bible falling to the floor as his blood drained from his face, leaving him pale as paper.

"I'm so-sorry, s-sir, I..." he stammered, his eyes turning to the door and as he wondered if he could reach it in less than a second "The d-door w-was... It was o-o-open and I j-just ... "

"No, no, my boy, there's no need for explain. I apologize for scaring you!" the elderly man moved his hands in a reassuring manner, smiling sympathetically at him.

"I am going!" Harry said hurriedly "I'm sorry!!!"

"You don't have to go. This is the Lord's house... And everyone is welcome to enter and stay if they wish." he said calmly, leaning down to pick up the Bible on the floor.

Harry immediately bent down to pick it up first, saving the old man from that unnecessary physical effort.

"Awn, thank you very much... You just saved my spine from more pain." he said good-naturedly, reaching for the object.

Harry watched him carefully: he was obviously the priest there.

Elderly, he had snow-white hair and a beard that looked more like cotton swabs... His eyes were of a very vivid and crystalline blue, hidden behind a pair of half-moon glasses that gave him a wise appearance.

He exuded tranquility and affection.

"Sherbet lemon?" he said.

"Pardon me?" Harry asked.

"Sherbet lemon...?" he said, offering the candy out of his cassock pocket.

"Um, no thanks...?"

The man smiled to himself.

"Ah, I'm quite fond of sherbet lemon..." he said, unwrapping the treat "My dentist insists on telling me that I should stop eating sweets and preserve what is left of my teeth, but at the age that I have, this is somewhat unnecessary, if you know what I mean..."

His tone was so light and carefree that Harry was unable to contain a slight smile. The priest looked at him intently with a friendly smile.

"My name is Father Dumbledore, by the way... But you can call me Albus if you want." he introduced himself.

Harry hesitated for a moment, looking at the door again and wondering if it would be too rude to just get out while there was time.

"Um... I'm Harry." he whispered at last.

"Ahhh... Harry... Very nice to meet you!" Dumbledore replied "I'm afraid this is the first time we've met, correct? I don't remember seeing your face at my services..."

"Hm... I'm afraid so, sir."

Dumbledore's blue eyes watched Harry closely.

"We haven't seen each other before, but your eyes are very familiar..." he said, unwrapping another candy and putting it in his mouth "There is only one person I've known in my entire life that has this shade of emerald green..."

"Ahhmmm..." Harry didn't know what to say.

"You have your mother's eyes..." Father Dumbledore smiled "... but you look like your father."

Dumbledore looked at him again, indicating with his hand for him to sit next to him. Harry sat down, uncomfortable, shy and most of all intrigued.

"Do you know my parents?" Harry asked confused.

"Ys. I know them."

Harry blinked in disbelief, but soon found a logical explanation for that: Lily and James were Lady and Lord Potter of Godric's Hollow, everyone in town knew them by sight or heard of them.

"I have known them for many, many years..." the priest continued "When I was younger than you, by the way..."

Harry's eyes widened and he frowned, his mind trying to understand what he heard.

"You know..." Dumbledore leaned towards him as if he wanted to share a secret "I was once like you."

The Potter heir opened his eyes wide.

"A long time ago, of course... A past life, if I may say so." the elderly man said calmly.

"I don't understand..." Harry shook his head.

Dumbledore smiled, looking at the stained glass around him and ignoring Harry's shock.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" he murmured, nodding his head "I've been here for decades and I still can't get enough of how beautiful it is... Especially now, when the sun hits these stained glass windows. See the colors? Almost like painting... It's one of my favorite moments of the day."

Harry was not looking at the stained glass but at him.

"The other church... It also has its beauty. Distorted and dark, of course, but still beautiful..." Dumbledore glanced at the boy and shrugged "But there's no point in having beauty if it doesn't speak to our hearts."

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but found himself speechless.

"Yes, Harry." Albus looked at him "I was once a Child of Night... Just like you, I suppose, so too."

The little wizard gasped.

"I..."

"Don't worry... First of all: there is nothing to fear here. This is a sacred place and no one in your coven will know you were here." he assured "I know that's your concern. A more than natural concern... In my day, the punishments for acts like this were... You must imagine. "

Harry felt like he was sinking into the bench, but he was unable to look away from the Father in front of him.

"So... So y-you a-are a wi..."

"No." Dumbledore shook his head "I was..."

The teenager took several deep breaths.

"'Was'?"

The elderly man nodded.

"A long and not-so-happy story..." he punctuated with a thoughtful look, but smiling when looking around him "But that so far is having a good ending, I must say."

"So you are a blood traitor..." Harry whispered, but the words sounded more like admiration than an offense.

Dumbledore smiled, patting the boy gently on the knee like a grandfather would.

"I haven't heard those words for decades."

"Sorry..."

"There is nothing to apologize..." he smiled 'That's exactly what I am."

Harry breathed through his mouth.

"How?" He asked "And... Why?"

Albus seemed to reflect on his inquiries, looking at the altar in front of him for long minutes.

"I was born into a family like yours, right here in Godric's Hollow... Not so prestigious as to be one of the 'Sacred 28', but still a traditional witch family..." the father said "And like you, I grew up inside the Church of Night... I heard and saw the masses of Father Riddle..."

The mention of the name made Harry blink and Dumbledore turn to him as if remembering something.

"Is he still there?"

Harry nodded a little "yes", still incredulous.

Dumbledore shook his head hesitantly.

"The most tortured and tormented soul I have ever come across..." he said followed by a deep sigh.

The two were silent for a while.

"I..." Harry muttered at one point "I never heard of you... Or your family."

Dumbledore shrugged.

"It's what happens when you 'betray the blood'... When you decide to follow another path that isn't the Path of Night." he replied "Damnatio memoriae... Have you heard of it?"

Harry denied it.

"It came from Ancient Rome..." the priest murmured "When a person falls from grace, he and all traces that once existed are erased from the memory of all" he explained "One day I was in the coven... And the next, it was like I never existed."

Harry gasped.

"Why?"

Dumbledore looked at the altar.

"Because I decided that the Path of Night never was for me..." he looked at the boy again "I decided to use the greatest gift given to all of us, human beings, regardless of whether we're wizards or muggles..."

The old man leaned towards him.

"Free will." he whispered in secret.

Harry looked at him and then lowered his head, trying to process the information.

"You know, Harry... I hope I can call you that... " the priest said gently "I don't know why you came here... Or what's going on with you or your life to the point to show up here... But let me advise you as someone who once was where you are. From a foolish old man with a little wisdom to a young man who still has a long way to go."

The boy was silent.

"'It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities." he said looking him in the eye "Don't forget that."

Dumbledore smiled, rising from the bench and walking slowly towards the altar.

"Sir?" Harry said, making his voice echo through the empty church.

"Yeah?" the priest turned.

"I..." he gasped, feeling a heaviness in his chest, but forced himself to say "I have to choose... But I don't know what to do!"

The old man was silent, letting him speak.

"On the one hand I... I love someone that I couldn't be with, but I can't live without." Harry said, his voice sounding shaky "Any choice that I make, I'll end up hurting someone I love. I don't know what to do!"

Dumbledore stopped for a moment and very calmly he answered.

"1 Corinthians 13: 4-7... Yes... It should do... "

Harry watched him walk until he was gone.

Alone again, he noticed the Bible beside him, on the bench.

Opening it avidly, he ran his finger over the table of contents, flipping through pages and pages to the point of making the letters look like intelligible smudges.

And after a while he found it. Not a direct command he expected, but in a way it was an answer.

"Love is patient, love is kind... It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud..." he read softly "It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking... It is not easily angered... It keeps no record of wrongs."

Harry felt his eyes sting, his mind clouding as he remembered kind gray eyes staring at him from the first moment he saw him.

"Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth..."he continued "It always protects... Always trusts... Always hopes... Always perseveres"

Harry closed the book, crying silently.

'Cedric...' his mind declared as his heart beat fast.

His decision was already made.

...

...

...

July 19, 1964

It was like a blur.

A kind of surreal dream or distorted alternative reality in which he was disconnected with the notion of time, of the space around him and even of himself, as if his mind were separated from his body.

He was just there...

Standing, with people in front of him and others behind him in that kind of procession that was moving little by little towards the altar.

He was just there...

Standing, dressed in his black ceremonial cloak, with a Dark Bible in his hands while the rosary was wrapped around his fingers in an apparent sign of devotion... Immobile like a china doll or a chess piece in which he was only moved by the slightest force external, like an irritated request for "hurry up, Potter!" whispered under the breath that forced him to take a step forward.

He didn't say or do anything in response.

For he was always pleasant and willing to please, always accommodating...

Harry James Potter... Heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Potter... Pure magic blood and centuries of tradition running through his veins... The son of James and Lily... One of the illustrious "Children of Night" who were gathered there.

Harry looked at his parents on a nearby bench: his beautiful, elegant and regal mother with a black veil in her red hair as the witch tradition dictated... Always perfect, always appropriate... No hair out of place, none rumpled in her dress, all the perfect pearls around her neck... Impeccable.

His father beside her, his hands on her shoulders. Somehow he seemed taller, more imposing... With his shoulders back, his head held high and his chest inflated, there he was the head of the Potter House, the honorable husband, the proud father, the respectable wizard.

Harry looked ahead, breathing out of his mouth and swallowing his breath as he took another step forward. In a few seconds he saw the first in line, one of his old childhood friends – Nott??? Abbott??? - pass by his side, returning to the bench where his parents were and being greeted by a discreet greeting of parental pride.

In minutes it would be him doing the same thing.

'Oh...' he thought.

It was like he was looking for something that he didn't even know what it was... But he kept looking.

He watched familiar faces, familiar corners until at last his attention returned to a random spot on one of the benches on the left: a wizard and witch sitting together in close proximity, having a child on one of their laps.

Harry knew who he was: it was Bill Weasley, Ron's older brother, and his wife Fleur, a beautiful French witch with Veela blood. The child on their lap was their daughter, little Victoire, 4, the girl looking more engrossed in her own fantasy world than what she saw there.

'Like me...' Harry thought, watching the uneasy look she had.

At one point, Fleur leaned over and whispered something in her ear... The little girl smiled as her young mother wrapped her own rosary around her small hands, her blue eyes fascinated with what she had in her hands as she went back to being quiet.

Harry looked away from the scene, lowering his head until he saw the rosary curled in his fingers, the inverted cross and the pentagram swaying gently.

'Like me... ' he thought again bitterly, squeezing the rosary so tightly that he started to be uncomfortable.

"In the name of the Fallen... Of the Blasphemed... and the Damned... Praise Satan!" Father Riddle's deep voice rang out through the church, followed by the choir of the faithful.

Like a row of lambs, one by one they received the man's blessing, he delivering the host and a sip of the wine contained in the ruby-studded chalice, the first sacrament they would perform before baptism; Draco - wearing his perfectly crafted cloak - was one of the first to receive it, smiling triumphantly at Harry as he passed him and returned to Lucius and Narcissa, both very proud.

And so it was, one by one, step by step until finally - horribly and inevitably - he found himself in front of Father Riddle.

The ecclesiastical was dressed in his most ornate robe, his intense black eyes inviting and with a perfect smile on display, his hands outstretched in a symbolic gesture of blessing... He looked like a hellish saint.

"Approach me, Harry James Potter..." he declared in an imperial tone "And receive His Unholy Communion!"

Harry held his breath, watching Sister Bellatrix approach with the ceremonial chalice and Barty Crouch Jr. - a faithful follower of Father Riddle who had taken on the role of acolyte - holding the wafer that should be consumed by him.

Turning his head back, Harry saw little Victorie still entertained with a rosary in his little hands.

'Like me.' he gasped minimally, understanding why that vision had affected him so much.

Years ago he was there on that bench.

It was him there in that church, his feet barely touching the floor while he was sitting on Lily's lap, his mother trying to make him behave... It was him in the years that followed, being a perfect well-behaved pureblood, always doing the wills of the adults, always following the steps that were directed to him.

The chess piece, the obedient puppet.

And then, suddenly, it happened...

An epiphany... A realization so profound and irrefutable that he came back to himself.

As if he had awakened from a deep sleep, Harry found himself in front of Father Riddle, who held out the chalice and the host to him.

"Harry...?" Riddle called to him softly, his smile pleasant but the look was intense.

Harry gasped, looking again at his hands in which they held the Bible and the rosary.

"Harry? Receive the communion of Our Dark Lord." Tom repeated slowly, his eyes fully focused on him.

But he didn't take the items.

Harry could hear the growing buzz coming between the benches, the feeling of being watched by more than a hundred of witches and wizards whom wondered what was going on.

"I can't" he whispered to the priest, his voice husky but firm "I... I can't do that."

For the first time in his life, Harry saw Father Riddle loose his usual air of confidence and stoicity, now looking like something close to shock and disbelief.

"I can't." Harry repeated to himself, putting his rosary and bible on the pulpit Father and feeling his hands lighter.

"Harry..." Tom clenched his jaw, but was ignored.

Harry turned around, seeing James and Lily looking directly at him: his father looked dismayed and his mother looked stoic, despite the turbulent eyes. The indiscernible buzz between wizards and witches increased making the noise like a bee hive buzzing before the impending scandal unfolding there.

But Harry, somehow, didn't care about them... He just continued to look at his parents, his lips moving in a silent apology.

He didn't want to make his decision there, at that moment, but it was inevitable: for a long time he was inert, asleep...

But now awake, there was no turning back.

"Harry, go to the sacristy." Tom ordered, causing the boy back at him.

"I... "

"I will take care of the situation, and then I will talk to your parents. Now go and avoid an unnecessary scandal." Tom said quickly and clearly.

Harry nodded for a few seconds, hearing the whispers grow louder, the looks increasingly puzzled. Walking to the sacristy, he saw his father paled and his mother appear to be on the verge of angry tears.

'May they forgive me...' was the last thought he had upon entering the sacristy, seeing that Father Riddle continued the profane communion ceremony as if nothing unusual had occurred, even though the whispers and looks continued.

Already in the sacristy for a while, Harry felt the adrenaline of the moment start to subside, giving way to the feeling close to panic when he realized what he had just done: in front of everyone in the coven, in front of his parents, inside the Church of Night, he had rejected the communion of the Dark Lord, he had rejected one of the greatest traditions of his people.

He said no.

With a racing heart, shortness of breath and a cold stomach, he paced the small room in which he frequented when he was still a small acolyte, his legs shaky and too unstable to remain seated, even if he was unable to stay upright.

'I said no... No!' he gasped, putting his hand over his mouth to contain any sound that threatened to come out of his throat.

That filled him with fear.

Fear because he opened the "Pandora's box" that was to oppose the customs of his coven, of his parents...

...and he also felt relief.

Deep, genuine relief, a lightness in which it was similar to that of a person who has endured a horrendous weight for a lifetime and has only just freed himself.

He could be free... What exactly that meant, he still didn't know, but he couldn't wait to find out: that was the beauty and gift of a life without imposing the will of others.

He would be free to finally be able to live.

"Yes... " he whispered to himself, staring at his determined reflection in the mirror above the fireplace.

Feeling his legs trembling, he sat on the armchair, placing his hands on the sides of his head, pressing it while breathing deeply several times. He didn't know how long he remained in that position, but he only realized that a long time had passed when he could hear the sounds of the bells announcing the end of the mass along with the muffled sound of voices and footsteps.

'Will my parents come here too?' he lifted his head towards the door, remembering the looks they both had before he went there.

He got up from the armchair, clenching his nails against his palms in order to contain his anxiety, hoping that any minute that door would open and be faced by angry and disappointed parents.

And as if apprehension wasn't enough, Harry almost jumped when he felt something heavy on his feet.

"Nagini!" He gasped in fright, watching the huge snake crawl across the wooden floor, she was looking at him briefly with her sulfur-yellow eyes as she curled up in a corner, watching him.

Before he could say anything more, the door to the room opened, making him look in the direction.

Instead of Lily and James, Harry saw the lonely figure of Father Riddle, who looked nothing short of composed and polished, closing the door behind him gently.

Without saying a single word, the man walked over to a sideboard with drinks, pouring himself a generous dose of whiskey while looking at the flames in the fireplace. Harry moistened his lips, more apprehensive with that silence and calm than if he received reprimand and looks of disappointment.

"What night that we had, don't you agree?" the man said in a light tone, as if commenting on the weather.

The boy didn't answer.

"I could have sworn that nothing exceptional would happen tonight, but thanks to you, Harry, my expectations have been somewhat dashed." Tom turned to face him, his face calm "Well... Now that we're here, I suppose there is an explanation or reason for your decision. Am I right?"

Harry was silent, looking down.

Long seconds passed.

"Harry?" the man called him "Do you realize what you did?"

The boy nodded.

"Is it possible... " Tom approached him, placing the glass of the drink on a small table "That what you did tonight was the product from a.. From a fleeting moment of doubt? Because if it is... We can get around without the slightest problem. A small mistake followed by regret... No one would say anything about it."

Harry bit his bottom lip.

He was anxious, distressed, a little frightened, but he no longer had any doubts and much less was he sorry.

"No..." he replied softly, lifting his head to look at him "No sir."

Tom watched him.

"Do you understand... The consequences of your decision, my little one? Do you understand what you're giving up?" the man put his hand on his shoulder, tilting his head to speak more closely "Do you understand what your choice can do?"

Silence.

"Your parents... Your friends... Your people..." he murmured "Your magic... It's too much to throw away. It's a lot to give up."

Harry looked into the black eyes of the reverend of darkness, feeling unable to divert his attention from him.

"Yes."

Tom took a deep breath, frowning softly.

"Harry... I know you. I carried you in my arms. You grew up inside this church, here by my side. You know you can trust me, don't you?" he asked, squeezing his shoulder.

Harry sniffed, trying not to cry.

"Yes, sir... "

"So... Tell me... Tell me what is so important to make you want to give up everything." Tom whispered, as if sharing a secret "Tell me, not as a confession to a priest... But from friend to friend, after all, that is what we are, isn't it? We are friends, Harry. We always have been and always will be."

The 16-year-old boy felt his heart tighten in his chest, his eyes watering more and more... And the words simply flowed from his mouth without the slightest restriction.

Whether because of stress or because of his confidence in the man, he told Tom the truth about everything.

He told of his love for Cedric, a Muggle boy. He told about the two and the plans they had, told about the dreams they had, told about the growing fear of his 17th birthday and the decision he should make... He told everything.

Tom listened in silence, his calm and serene expression never changing, except when Harry finally fell silent, causing his eyebrows to rise as a small smile appeared on his handsome face.

"So... You love this muggle boy..." Tom contemplated "Even with all the implications of that... "

"Yes sir." Harry replied softly, "I... I love him."

Tom took a deep breath, walking to the middle of the sacristy as he put his hands in the pockets of his beautiful cassock.

"I see..." he replied.

The priest was silent, looking at the ceiling above him for a few seconds of contemplation.

"I'll not lie in saying that I'm not disappointed in you, child... Or that I don't disapprove of your decision." he said calmly "I see nothing but losses than gains for you."

Harry swallowed.

"But... it's your decision. And there is nothing that our Faith doesn't respect more than the gift of personal choices." Tom concluded, glancing at Nagini "I'll talk to your parents... Maybe we can have a beneficial arrangement for everyone, yes?"

The dark-haired boy lowered his head.

Tom approached him, gently lifting his chin so that he looked him in the eye.

"Don't worry, child... Everything will be fine." he said quietly.

The clock struck, striking midnight.

"It's late... You should go..." Tom said, taking his hand off his shoulder.

The boy wiped his face with his sleeves, nodding, walking to the door in uncertain steps. Tom, in turn, sat at his desk, Nagini crawling over to him.

"Have a good night, Harry... And may the darkness be with you." Riddle said before the boy went out the door.

The green flames of the floo powder broke out in the library, rapidly diminishing as Harry came out from fireplace. With his communion cloak in his arms, he thought his parents were waiting for him there, but that was not the case, finding the room empty and silent just like the rest of the Manor.

Father Riddle said he would talk to them and get in a consensus, but Harry knew he had to talk to them.

He would have to explain the reasons that led him to make his choice and maybe try to make them understand... Harry knew that his parents had expectations about him, but he also knew that they loved him.

'Love is not easily angered... It keeps no record of wrongs."' he thought, echoing the words he read in the Bible of the Christian's Church.

Walking down the corridor, he saw a light coming from the dining room, swallowing dry when he knew his parents were there.

For minutes he considered going straight to his room and leaving the conversation for later, but then dismissed it: it would be immature for him to want to hide after he had made his decision. Acting like a child wouldn't help him at all.

Even with shaking hands and a racing heart, he still headed for the room with his head held high...

...and entered.

The first thing he noticed was the smell of cigarettes in the air, just as he saw the smoke that made the light from the single lit chandelier seem more diffused.

Lily was sitting in a chair, no longer wearing her ceremonial cloak and her veil on her hair, the cigarette lit in her fingers while the ashtray on the table already contained several finished tips; James was sitting in the opposite chair, his gaze fixed on the drink bottle in front of him, completely immersed in himself and seeming not to notice his presence.

Harry bit the inside of his cheek, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he stood by the door.

Lily slowly turned her face to face him, making him catch his breath in reflex.

She stared at him for long seconds, even opening her mouth to say something, but closed it. Her eyes, however, seemed to say a lot: disappointment, anger, sadness, hurt...

"I..." Harry cleared his throat, trying to use his voice as he stepped to the front "I think we need to talk."

Lily turned her face to the table, smoking her cigarette and then steaming the smoke.

"'Talk'..." she said in a broken voice, a bitter smile on her lips "He needs to 'talk'..."

James was silent, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath and then taking a generous sip of his drink.

"What's there to talk about when you've said and done everything?", she asked turning to look at him.

"Mummy..." Harry approached the table.

Lily inhaled deeply.

"How could you..." she whispered with a betrayed look
"How could you humiliate us like that? In everyone's front... How could you do this with your own family?"

Harry's eyes shone with tears, he shook his head in denial.

"It was never my intention... I swear!"

His words caused an immediate reaction in her.

Lily got up from the chair, anger pulsing under her green eyes.

"Oh no?! It wasn't?!" She replied "So what happened in the Church was a delusion, a collective outbreak? Is that what you're telling us?"

"Mummy, please –,"

"SHUT UP!" she raised her voice "JUST SHUT UP!!!"

Harry flinched.

"Do you have an IDEA of what you DID?! Do you have the MINIMUM notion?"

The teenager kept his head up.

"It's was my decision" he whispered.

Lily gave a cold, humorless laugh.

"We are ruined... All of us. Ruined. Outcasts, that's what we are now!!!" she gestured with her hand "Centuries of tradition, honor and duty thrown in the trash in ONE night!!!"

Harry was silent.

"All thanks to your selfishness... Your stubbornness... Your recklessness and stupidity..." Lily gasped with hatred.

"I can explain! Let me explain, please!" Harry exclaimed in exasperation.

"TO EXPLAIN WHAT?!" she said harshly.

"M-Mummy, please, let me..."

"PERHAPS YOU CAN EXPLAIN THIS TO US!" she snarled furiously, picking up papers that Harry hadn't paid attention to, but which were now being thrown at him, some falling to the floor.

With shaking hands, Harry saw that they were letters, jhis letters written no less by Cedric...

It was his love letters, little treasures in which he hid in his room.

"CAN YOU EXPLAIN THAT?!" she looked at him.

"You..." Harry gasped, unable to believe "These are my things! MINE!"

"CAN YOU EXPLAIN THAT TO US?!" Lily shouted, "CAN YOU EXPLAIN WHY ON HELL ARE YOU BETRAYING YOUR BLOOD, YOUR PEOPLE FOR A FILTHY MUGGLE?!"

"CEDRIC IS NOT FILTHY!" Harry shouted back, his face red with anger.

The chandelier in the dining room rattled at the magical vibration coming from the boy. Lily stepped back in reflex.

"HE IS NOT FILTHY!" he continued, feeling the anger sweeping away whatever nervousness he had "YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT HIM!"

James and Lily looked at him.

"YOU KNOW NOTHING!" Harry repeated, barely feeling the tears running down his cheeks.

"We don't know?! Ah... The 16 year old child thinks that we, we don't know." Lily looked at James "He thinks we don't know what this is about!"

"I love him, mummy..." Harry looked at two "And he... He lo-loves me too!"

James, who had been silent until then, got up from the table, looking incredibly calm - or mortified - with all that.

"No..." he shook his head "No... You don't love him, Harry."

Lily regained her voice when she saw her husband on her side.

"What you feel is not love." the witch said in a caustic tone, perceptible anger in every word "You feel a... A stupid infatuation, an infantile obsession, you fell anything, but it's not love."

"I love him!" Harry countered directly, looking at her.

"Harry..." James sighed, looking at him pleadingly "You don't understand about that, because you're too young to know what love is."

Harry then started to laugh.

The anger, the disbelief, and the despair he felt simply converged into loud laughter at hearing that.

"Oooohhh... So I'm too young to understand what love is or to know what I feel... This is so..." he took a deep breath while looking at his parents, feeling just angry "This is so hypocritical coming from the SAME people who LITERALLY want me to give my soul to the devil when I'm turning 17!!!"

"HARRY!!!" Lily scolded.

"IT'S WHAT YOU ARE!!!" he shouted "YOU CALL ME SELFISH BUT YOU DON'T CARE WHAT I WANT OR NEED, YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT ME OR MY FEELINGS, JUST CARE ABOUT THIS FUCKING COVEN AND WHAT THEY WILL THINK!!!"

The two adults looked at him.

Harry gasped, starting to sob with tears.

"I ca-cannot be w-what you w-want me t-to be!" he said in a weaker voice "You have... You ha-have to u-understand w-what I want, what I need..."

"And what would it be?" Lily took a step forward, her face hard "What do you want so much to humiliate us like that?! To the point of turning your back on your family?!"

"I WANT A LIFE THAT IS MINE!!!" Harry screamed, sick of it all.

The adults were silent, watching him breathe more and more, his body visibly shaking; Harry tried his best not to collapse at that moment, a task that was increasingly difficult.

"I wa-want to be lo-loved for who I am and not for what y-you want me to be... It's the only thing th-that want, the o-one that I ask for!"

He wiped away the tears.

"I can't go on with this... That pl-place is not for me! Never was!"

"And where is your place?" James asked.

"In the muggle's arms, I suppose!" Lily said sarcastically.

Harry looked at her tearfully.

"He loves me for what I am."

"Does he know that you are a wizard?" she looked at him when asked.

Harry hesitated, causing his mother to raise his eyebrow higher when she sniffed that weak spot.

"He doesn't know..."

"He loves me."

"Would he love you if he knew what and who you are? Would your muggle still 'love' you like you say he does?" she looked at him.

Harry was silent.

"Wake up to life, Harry!" she said bitterly "This is not a fairytale, this is real life, the real world... Do you think you'll be with him?! Is that what you think?! So let me tell you a little secret."

She moved closer to him.

"The real world, the Muggle world, will crush and destroy you both at the first opportunity they get, because that's what they do, that's how the world works. The muggles you love so much are just as or even worse than we can be." Lily said hard "Do you really think that you will live happily together? That this 'love story' will have a happy ending? So here's a truth: stories like this don't have happy endings, because there are no happy endings for people like you and people like him, both in our world and in his world!!!"

Harry cried.

"And in the end... In the end, all this great 'love' that you say you feel for each other will be your biggest mistake. Your ruin."

Lily stepped back, unable to contain her own tears.

"If you follow this path... If you prefer that... That muggle than me and your father..." she said in a broken voice "So I will not have a son anymore."

"Mu-Mummy...!" Harry sobbed as he looked at her, seeing her leave the room without looking back, her shoulders shaking.

James looked at Harry for a few moments before leaving, leaving him alone in the dining room.

Harry, at last, collapsed.

...

...

...

July 21, 1964

It was with a phone call that Harry made an appointment with Cedric that Monday morning, in their "secret hiding place".

In less than a minute, Harry told his boyfriend that they needed to see each other and that they needed to talk; before he could even ask what happened, Cedric only heard a quick "I love you" in a choked voice followed by the static sound of the ended call. Soon he was overwhelmed by the sense of urgency, feeling that something serious had happened to Harry.

A little less than an hour later, Cedric made some excuse for his parents when he left his house, pedaling the bike non-stop to their secret place and when he finally arrived, he felt his blood run cold. Instead of the usual vision of a smiling and happy Harry, he saw that the youngest appeared to be devastated: pale, very pale, eyes and nose reddened by cry and prominent purplish dark circles.

Something serious has actually happened.

Harry, in turn, watched his boyfriend standing in front of him, his gray eyes wide in shocked expression as a crease formed on his forehead.

"Harry..." he said as he approached "What happened?"

The green-eyed boy sobbed as he closed his eyes, the crying coming back hard even though he had done it all night.

He started to cry to the point that his body trembled hard, to the point that his lungs ached from sobs or even noticed the strong hug that the older boy gave him at that moment, constricting his body and preventing the crisis from growing further. .

"Harry, breathe!" Cedric ordered, placing his hand in the middle of the smaller boy's back "Breathe! Just hear my voice and breathe!"

Harry heard his voice, heard the order of the words and tried to follow them: the sensation was similar to being drowning while trying to swim, trying to breathe... Cedric's voice was now his buoy, pulling him from that panic in the which he sank into.

Clutching the older boy's torso, it took him minutes to stop sobbing, his heart still frantic as his throat slowly relaxed.

Cedric pulled his face away to see him, wiping his tears away.

"Now, what happened?"

Harry kept his eyes closed.

"Harry... "

"We... We c-can't go on..." he whispered.

Cedric frowned, totally confused.

"Harry, what happened?"

"Y-you will h-hate m-me..."

"Harry... I could never hate you." he said with a slight smile, kissing the top of the minor's head.

"I k-know y-you will..."

"No... "

"Y-You're g-going to after I t-tell you..."

"To tell me what, love?"

"The tr-truth..."

Cedric froze.

Harry opened his eyes and looked at him.

"I'm n-not what y-you think, C-Ced..." he confessed.

He frowned even more.

"Harry..."

Embarrassed, Harry lowered his head

"I do-don't k-know how to s-say..."

Cedric took a deep breath, trying to be calm. Getting desperate would only help Harry feel worse than he already was.

"Try from the beginning, hm? Every story has a beginning "

Harry nodded weakly, looking at him.

"Please... Don't hate me..." he whispered, inhaling deeply as he started to speak.

It was difficult, complicated.

Harry told Cedric the truth about him and his family... About his world, about who he was, about what he was... He told about his 17th birthday, about what it meant, about his baptism, about his choice... He told about the fight he had with his parents, about the bitter words exchanged.

Harry told Cedric the truth, the truth that was said aloud sounded more like a complete bizarre coming from an insane mind.

And he expected Cedric to see him as an insane.

He waited for the older boy to get out of there as quickly as possible, fearing for his own life when he was close to a madman...

Harry hoped that the love contained in Cedric's eyes to change to disgust, to revulsion... It would be the look in which he would kill Harry inside, that would torment him forever.

He waited.

Waited...

Waited...

Until at last Cedric moved away gently, his eyes closing as he lifted his perfect face to the sky and breathed deeply.

Harry cringed into himself, waiting for the pain that the look of his then boyfriend would give him.

"So..." Cedric whispered as he looked back at him "So you... You are... A wizard?"

The green-eyed boy sniffed, nodding.

The Diggory's son looked to the side, puzzled as he was silent.

"That explains a lot of things..." Cedric murmured thoughtfully at one point.

Harry bit his lower lip, feeling his chest ache.

"I think... I think that in the deep, I always knew..." he continued "I always knew you were different."

Harry looked back at him, wanting to disappear.

"I am a fr-freak."

Cedric approached him.

"No!" he said with a slight smile "I always knew you were special... Wonderful beyond what words can describe."

The boy looked at him with wide eyes.

"Since we were kids..."Cedric explained calmly "Since those days I knew you were special."

The blond looked around him, his expression nothing short of profound admiration.

"Deep down, I always knew. I always knew that there was something special about you, something extraordinary. And now I know what it is!"

Harry looked at him.

"I don't know what means to be a wizard..." Cedric said "I don't understand everything you said... But... But I understand and know that I love you, Harry. I love you all the way, because I know who you are."

The younger boy cried when he saw him approach again.

"You are my Harry. You always have been, and you always will be."

The two hugged each other tightly, Harry hiding his face in his chest, while the older one stroked his hair and gently.

"And your mother is wrong about us..." Cedric whispered "You will see, Harry. We'll be together... We'll go away from here... We'll go to King's Cross and from there we'll escape to our future place, a place of our own."

"To where?"

"I don't know..." he laughed softly "Anywhere... Anywhere that is far from here."

Harry closed his eyes.

"It could be somewhere that is close to the sea..." Cedric said quietly "Somewhere where we can see the sun rise and set, smell the salt water and the wind, you know?"

The two were silent for a few seconds, still holding each other.

"I never saw the sea." Cedric added, "I want to see it with you by my side one day... We are going to have a little house in this place, a place only for us in this world... And we'll be together until our hair turns white... But of course, only if you'll still love me, even when I'm not young or handsome anymore."

Harry smiled, even though he was still crying.

"I will..."

"I know you will!" Cedric kissed his forehead "You'll see Harry... We'll be so happy. I know we'll be!"

Harry squeezed, feeling good warmth in his chest.

"We're go-going to t-take care of each o-other, aren't we, C-Ced?" he whispered, hugging him tightly while listening his heartbeats "P-promise me!"

"I promise!" Cedric smiled, kissing him again.

...

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey guys!

I wanted to give you some not so good news: I am in the final period of my graduation at the University.

As a result, I cannot update my fics as often as I would like. I will NOT abandon them, I just won't be able to have a good update pace. 

In my spare time, I'll write a little and, who knows, I might even update one or the other, but it's not certain.

The next chapter will be called 'The Death of Innocence'.

Fasten your seatbelts, as from here it is only freefall, tears, blood and tragedy.

See you soon!