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Family Means More Than Blood	By : WingsofaDream Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 59825 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 7
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its associated characters are property of J K Rowling, not me. This story is not being written for profit, just for the lols.

Chapter List
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5th March 1995: Morning

Things were not going well in the world for Harry. Mr Crouch was dead and he had seen it happen through a vision; the days kept passing, drawing the Final Task ever closer to him; and Dumbledore had tried and failed to have the Tournament cancelled. Add to that the stress of school work and of the fact that Rita Skeeter was still writing rubbish about him and his friends and it was no real surprise that Harry often woke up in the mornings simply wishing he could go back to sleep forever again.

At breakfast that morning, that seemed to be exactly what the Gryffindor was trying to do. Instead of eating as he was supposed to, Harry sat half-slumped over the table, his head buried in his folded arms. Draco's arm around his shoulders was a warm, solid anchor which kept him safe in the knowledge that he was never alone despite what he felt at points over those last few days, and the easy chatter of Fred and George was reassuring that no matter how bad things got, some elements of life never changed. And no one was trying to make him eat anything which was a relief. Unfortunately, there was something bringing him down; the thought of the on-coming delivery of the Daily Prophet. Its arrival was a time to be dreaded for Harry now and he was looking forward to it about as much as he was looking forward to exams.

When the paper did come, the Harry did not even lift his head. There was no need to, he already knew it was not going to be anything in his favour. Indeed, with the indignant cry from Hermione and the various phrases coming from Fred and George, it was obviously for the best that he had not bothered to even lift his head.

"This is ridiculous!" Fred cried indignantly.

"Surely someone's doing something to stop her from doing this?" George asked.

"Father's working on it." Draco told them as he peeled a banana casually. "He says it's not easy though; she's a woman who knows how to protect herself from the law."

"She's not the sort of woman who reacts to lawful, legal matters; that much is obvious in the lies she has printed." Hermione muttered, glaring down at the copy of the newspaper she had in front of her.

"Just as well we're well on the way to finding out some decent blackmail material on her then." Fred grinned somewhat evilly, catching the attention of the three sitting in front of him and his brother.

"Really?" The only girl sitting there spoke up first.

"What is it?" Harry asked curiously, finally lifting his head.

"Uh, uh, not yet."

"You'll find out soon enough, hopefully." George grinned.

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12th March 1995: Evening

Carefully, Harry dipped the tip of his quill in the small jar of ink which was resting on a dangerously thin part of a shelf. With careful movements, he noted down a 12 next to the word "Veritaserum" which was written in his father's neat scrawl on the left of the piece of parchment he was holding. Having grown tired of sitting around and worrying in his dorm room and the common room, Harry had gone down to the dungeons to spend some time with Severus only to find the man updating his records of exactly what he had and how much of it there was in his personal stores. The Gryffindor had volunteered his services and had been taking stock of what was on the lower shelves while the Potions professor did the ones which were higher up.

Harry moved onto the next section of the shelf and began to quickly count the number of filled vials which were neatly held in a rack. He jotted down the number when he was done before moving onto a grouping of jars which was directly next to it. However, upon counting the jars, a light frown creased his forehead as something occurred to him. He glanced down at his list before looking back up to the shelves. He recounted the vials and jars a few more times, each time coming back with the same number, and eventually had to admit that there was something wrong.

"Father, have you been brewing Polyjuice Potion?"

"What need would I have for Polyjuice Potion?" Came Severus' distracted response from above where the man was inspecting a large jar of something on one of the top shelves.

"Well someone's been brewing it; there's ten jars missing of boomslang skin and ten vials of lacewing flies."

"What?" The Potions Master demanded as he came down the steps and came to a stop at his son's side before glancing at the empty containers on the shelves and then looking at the check-list.

"They've taken an awful lot." The teenager mused thoughtfully, staring at the shelves before turning his head to look at Severus. "Why would anyone need that much Polyjuice Potion?"

Before his father could reply, the slightly frantic call of Severus' name caught both their attentions, drawing their eyes from each other to the entrance into the store room just in time for them to see Igor Karkaroff stride in, his right hand holding his left forearm. The foreign man obviously had not counted on Harry being there though because he looked rather startled by the young man's presence before just looking annoyed and pulling his left arm back a little.

"Severus," Karkaroff said stiffly, his eyes flickering from Harry to the other man. "I need to speak to you now."

Harry glared up at the Durmstrang headmaster; he did not like the man in any way. He knew only too well that the only reason Karkaroff had escaped a longer term in Azkaban was because he had provided the names of other Death Eaters, including trying to drag Lucius and Severus into more trouble, just to save his own skin. And the fact that the man had continued to practically haunt Severus for the entire time he had been at Hogwarts, he did not like the idea of leaving the two of them alone in such an enclosed space. Unfortunately, when he received the ordering look from his father, Harry knew that Severus was going to humour Karkaroff and he was not going to be allowed to stay around and hear it. So, with a reluctant sigh and one last glare in Karkaroff's direction, the teenager left the store room without word.

However, he did not go very far, instead coming to a stop just around the next corner in order to await Karkaroff. Harry was smart enough to know that Karkaroff was not trying to re-recruit Severus. After all, the man had told on a lot of Death Eaters and if they ever reformed, they were not going to be too happy with him. There was the very likely possibility of the foreign man dragging Severus down with him though and there was no way Harry was going to let that happen and so he would put a stop to it right at that moment. He would confront Karkaroff and tell him to stop harassing Severus or else...Or else...Well, he was unsure what "or else" was at that moment but he was hoping he would not have to actually define it when the time came.

In all, Harry had to wait about five minutes before the man he was waiting for came around the corner, straight towards him. Putting on his best serious and annoyed expression, Harry stepped in Karkaroff's path, effectively stopping him. Karkaroff merely sneered down at him though, like the thought of being stopped by the Gryffindor was amusing. "Move aside, boy."

Ignoring that, Harry simply said what he wanted to say. "Stay away from my father."

That only made Karkaroff's sneer widen. "And what makes you think I'm going to listen to a weak child like you? Even if you could do something to me, you wouldn't, would you?"

"I would if I had to."

Karkaroff seemed to study him for a second before smirking cruelly. "No, you wouldn't." He sneered before simply moving around Harry and continuing on his way.

Harry stood in his one place until the sound of the man's footsteps were gone before he started forward, intending to head back to the potions store room to continue to help his father.

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2nd April 1995: Midday

There were times that Harry genuinely doubted High Priest Sephiran's claims that he was one who was truly blessed by the Goddess. Those times were usually when he was woken from sleep in the middle of night due to visions and when he suffered the feeling of nausea and fatigue after experiencing a vision while he was awake. Of course, there were also the times when visions came on with little warning at completely the wrong moment.

Harry had been completely minding his own business, walking from Divination to the Great Hall for lunch, when he had passed by Professor Moody. So far, he was pleased with the lack of contact he had with the strange man; in class he only spoke when spoken to and outside of class he only ever saw the man in passing. That day though, the passing-by-without-looking-talking-or-communicating-in-any-other-way plan had failed. Somehow, they had passed by just a little too close to each other and, upon their hands accidently brushing against the other, the Gryffindor's vision had clouded and he had been swept away in a vision.

What Harry had seen made little sense to him. Nothing he had seen had been particularly clear nor lasted long enough to give him a good idea of what it could possibly be in relation to. He had seen images of Professor Moody standing over a bubbling cauldron, of the man walking in the Forbidden Forest at night, of the man burning a letter, of the man locking a large trunk in the DADA teacher's rooms. The final image, which had lasted no more than a second, was of another man completely different from Professor Moody, one that Harry thought he recognised but could not remember where from.

It was with a shuddered gasp that Harry came back to himself in a rush as the images faded and reality returned. He found himself in the exact same position he had last been aware of, standing beside Professor Moody, their hands lightly touching. Green eyes flickered up to the face of the ex-Auror and he felt his pulse quicken.

"You all right, Snape?" Moody demanded gruffly, an almost suspicious quality in his voice.

For a few seconds Harry was powerless to do anything but blink mutely at the professor until, finally, he managed to pull himself back to the present situation. He stepped back quickly, breaking the slight contact he had with the man, and averted his gaze so that he was staring off down to the left of the corridor. "I'm fine Sir, just suffered a bit of a dizzy spell is all." He lied as he turned to go but had to stop when his arm was caught in Moody's grip.

This was bad! Moody was suspicious of him. All the professors knew about his occasional vision so there was an all too real possibility that the man was not fooled. And if Harry's gut-feeling was right and he was not to be trusted, he might see fit to "silence" him. Of course, there was no real proof to back the theory up with except how Harry felt but that was enough for him and it was better to be safe than sorry. He needed an excuse to get away and he needed it very quickly.

And it was then by act of Fate or incredibly good luck, that Harry caught sight of Johnathan walking up ahead on his own, no doubt heading to the Great Hall for lunch as Harry had previously been doing. It served as a small relief and an opportunity which the Gryffindor was not going to pass up.

"John!"

It effectively caught the attention of younger brother, who turned his head to look and then dutifully stopped walking, waiting for Harry to catch him up. Moody's grip had gone from his arm and Harry knew that he was out of trouble, for that moment at least.

"Good day, Professor." He wished politely before dashing away from the man, over to boy several feet away from him.

"Everything all right?" John asked as Harry drew in closer, his brown eyes flickering from his older brother to the DADA professor who had turned and started to walk away from them.

"Is now."

"What did he want?"

"Nothing in particular." Harry brushed off the question easily before considering something and then speaking again. "What do you think of Professor Moody?" He had already asked Draco, Fred and George earlier on in the Year, when his suspicions had first started. Getting John's opinion might prove to be helpful as it was doubtful that the Potter would hold a grudge against the man for the lesson on the Unforgivables which had upset Harry so.

"He's all right." John shrugged. "There are worse teachers but there are better teachers too. Dad's always spoken highly of him whenever they worked together though. Said he was a man who liked his job and did it well. What is it about him exactly that has you on edge?"

Harry looked at him surprise at that.

"It's been a well known fact to everyone that you aren't comfortable around him since the whole trouble at the beginning of the school year. So? What is it you don't like about him?"

"I dunno, there's just something about that man...I can't trust him; even if everyone else does, I just can't do it."

"Is he up to something?"

"That thought did cross my mind. But I haven't got any actual evidence to suggest that he's doing anything, just strange little occurrences which could be explained away." Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I suppose there is always the chance that this is just pure paranoia on my part."

A short silence over took them both them as Harry finished what he was saying and John seemed to consider something. Finally, the youngest male Potter spoke what was on his mind: "You don't think that it is just paranoia though, do you?"

Harry sighed lightly again at that. "No, I don't."

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27th May 1995: Early Morning

He was outside, yet He was warm. The air around Him was a lovely temperature despite it being the middle of the night. Or was it? The sky was very over-cast despite the warm weather so maybe it was day but just very gloomy. It looked as though a storm might be coming...

Looking around Himself, it did not take long to realise where He was and He felt an definite chill run through Him at the sight. A graveyard. He was back, yet again, in a graveyard, THE graveyard! It was the same dream He had been having since the night after the Yule Ball! Everything was the same as the times before. There was still no sign as to what could there possibly be to see in the graveyard and there was still no one around. So, once more, He started forward as He had the times before, looking around all the while, keeping His eyes open for anything.

When He stopped again, He was standing in front of the large tomb stone or memorial statue. The gloom once again made it look awfully creepy and there was still definitely something about it. He wasted no time in beginning his search for what He was supposed to be seeing, knowing this time what would happen if He took too long in his search. This time, He found the engraved writing rather quickly and immediately focused all his concentration onto trying to read it. No matter how hard He stared though, He could not see what the writing said. It seemed to blur itself, making it impossible for Him to make out what it was that was written.

Time seemed to pass slowly until He sensed a presence right beside Him. He flinched away quickly and looked to see that Cedric Diggory was standing beside him, dressed in the uniform he wore for the Triwizard Tournament tasks. He stared at the older boy in confusion. Why was Cedric here suddenly?

He was unable to ponder that question for long before the sound of footsteps reached Him. Turning, He rose to His feet at the same time, intending to see who it was that was coming closer this time. As He turned, He caught sight of the familiar object which was the Triwizard Cup, left carelessly on the ground a few feet away. Finally looking to see who it was coming, He discovered that the person, whoever it was, was as fuzzy as the writing had been and it was impossible to make them out. That was not stopping Cedric from reacting though.

"Who's there? Who are you?" The Hufflepuff demanded as he pulled out his wand and started forward.

"Kill the spare." The poisonous order was hissed in the voice of Voldemort.

"Avada Kedavra!"

He screamed in horror as the green light shot out of the gloom and headed straight towards the Hufflepuff. One second, Cedric had been standing, tall and proud. Then, in the blink of an eye, the green had reached him, engulfed him and sent him sprawled out on the ground, eyes lifeless, skin pale.

"Harry! Harry, wake up!"

Harry gave a sobbed cry as his eyes flew open and he woke completely. He did not sit up, instead turning onto his side and burying his face in his pillow, his arms coming up to hold onto the pouch of feathers. Somewhere in his mind, he acknowledged the hand which was rubbing his arm and the soothing voice which was murmuring to him, but none of it matter very much to him.

What he had just seen...It could not be true! Cedric, he was going to die, Cedric was going to die! At the end of the tournament, during the Final Task, Cedric was going to die! Harry knew it, he just knew it! He could feel it, deep inside. He had no proof to suggest that his vision would come to pass at the end of the tournament other than his gut feeling.

But now he knew, what could he do? How could he stop that horrible future from becoming true?

The sound of the dorm room's door opening came then before the sound of a rather breathless George came: "Someone's gone to get McGonagall and a prefect volunteered to go and get Snape."

"Good, good." The voice of Fred came directly beside him; that was obviously the one who was sitting on the bed beside Harry and trying to comfort him.

"Has he woken up?"

"Yeah, he woke up a little bit after you all left."

"Has he said anything?"

A pause before Fred answered: "No; just turned onto his side and started crying. I don't think we should try and do anything until at least one of the professors are here, we don't know what's wrong after all."

Another pause as the mattress dipped with the weight of another person. "What do you think he saw to make him scream like that?" George's voice wondered as a hand carded though Harry's hair gently.

"I'm not sure I want to know." Was the only reply Fred gave.

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28th May 1995: Midday

Stress.

Nothing was going to go wrong during the Final Task of the Triwizard Tournament. Harry was not going to suddenly find himself in a graveyard. Cedric was not going to die. His dreams had not been visions. They had been caused by stress. At least, that was the case if you were going to believe the majority of the professors of Hogwarts.

In the end about five different professors had been alerted by various students as to Harry's state the night before but it had naturally been Severus who had comforted him and taken him back down to the dungeons, shoving a Dreamless Sleep potion down his son's throat the minute they were settled comfortably in bed together. Then, in the morning when Harry had woken up, had been quizzed in detail by the Potions Master, McGonagall, Dumbledore, and Madam Pomfrey as to what had happened. And Harry had told them. He had told them everything. Every last little detail he had dreamt of, hoping that this would finally convince them all that the tournament needed to be cancelled. That had not happened though.

All were disbelieving. They did not come right out and call him a liar or anything of the such, but they were skeptical about his feelings about it. They had all agreed that Harry was too caught up in the situation for them to be able to take his dream for a true warning. All of them held the opinion that it was merely a product of stress. It was not only frustrating, it was frightening because it meant nothing was going to be done to prevent it from happening. The Final Task was going to come, his vision would come true and Cedric would die.

Harry's friends believed him completely. Fred and George had not even questioned the possibility, immediately thinking the adults manic for ignoring such a blatant warning. Draco had been a firm support, allowing Harry to talk things through, make sense of everything, and even rant and cry over the fact that nothing was being done to stop such a horrible future. Hermione had instantly got to work in the library, trying to search for any evidence that perhaps the dream was symbolic rather then something to be taken literally in order to reassure Harry and take off some of the stress. Violet had not even been concerned with the vision, more worried about the fact that Harry had reacted to the dream so badly. John appeared to be much the same as his younger sister though on not such an obvious level. And Ron? Well, Ron seemed a little out of his depth in such a situation and seemed limited to saying "thing will turn out all right" or words to that effect.

Unfortunately, such support meant very little when there was the ever constant knowledge that there was nothing stopping the vision from coming true. Harry was not going to be deterred though. As long as he was still a part of the Triwizard Tournament, as long as he was able to, he would save Cedric's life.

He would do anything he could to stop that awful future.

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1st June 1995: Midday

"Cedric!" Harry called to the figure of the older teenager who was crossing a corridor intersection straight ahead of him.

This was the first time since Harry's dream that he had seen the Hufflepuff and he was not going to let the chance to put his plan into action escape him. His plan was simple: feel out how Cedric actually felt about the tournament and then try and talk him out of competing. It was not a fool-proof plan and, if he was honest, he had little faith that it was going to work, but it was the best he had managed to come up with so far.

Cedric turned to look in Harry's direction at the call of his name and paused upon seeing the Gryffindor. Harry ran up to him quickly, not wanting to keep the young man waiting, and greeted him with a somewhat breathless smile. "Hi, haven't seen you around lately."

"I could say the same thing to you." Cedric returned with his own smile. "How are you?"

"Oh, you know, can't complain." Harry replied with a grin as they began to walk forward once again.

"And, uh, how's Malfoy?"

"He's all right. And how's your...How's, erm, Cho, is it?"

"Yeah, she's, uh, she's good."

"Good." The younger teenager said with a nod of his head before they both lapsed into a slightly heavy silence. It lasted a few seconds before Harry felt the need to get around to what he had originally intended this encounter to be about. "So, only a few more weeks until the final task."

"Yeah." Cedric agreed with a nod of his head. "I'll be thankful for it all to be over to tell the truth. It hasn't been what I expected. How about you? Looking forward for it to end?"

"I never wanted to enter in the first place so the sooner all this is over, the better as far as I'm concerned." The Gryffindor paused momentarily before speaking again. "What do you reckon your chances of winning are?"

"Hmm, it's hard to judge. I definitely think Krum is a bigger threat than Delacour but the question is how much of a threat is he?"

"Am I not a threat then?"

"Oh, no, I didn't mean..." Cedric began to quickly say but stopped when he turned to Harry and saw the younger teenager was grinning up at him, clearly only teasing. He gave a small laugh before shaking his head slightly and looking back ahead of himself.

Harry chuckled lightly at the young man's behaviour before growing serious again. He flickered his gaze in the Hufflepuff's direction. "Cedric, how important is it to you to win?"

"Well, it depends what you mean by important. I suppose there's no real reason for me to win but I want to, for my parents and my friends; to make them proud of me."

"I'm sure they're already proud of you, you've achieved so much after all."

"Yeah, but...I only really entered because it was expected of me, and now...I suppose to win is expected of me as well. I don't want to let everyone down so I'm going to try my hardest to win."

Harry bit back a despairing groan. Asking Cedric to throw the match or to not even take part was not going to be possible. The young man was obviously too intent on winning, if only for other people. Also, it was doubtful the Hufflepuff would believe him if he told him about his visions and he did not want to have to do that anyway; Cedric did not need that stress on him as well.

"What about you? Surely you're not fussed about winning?" Cedric asked, pulling the Gryffindor from his thoughts.

Harry smiled lightly at that though it was mostly to stop the frown which wanted to crease his forehead. "No, I don't care about winning. I'll just be happy to make it out alive."

"Well I can help you with that. We'll stick together, all right? We'll watch each other's backs."

"Sure." Harry agreed weakly, the worry from before striking him again with full force. How was he going to protect Cedric now?

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12th June 1995: Night

Harry woke with a start, his eyes flying open to the darkness which surrounded him, all light being blocked out by the closed and warded curtains around his bed. He quickly sat up, feeling for the objects he had placed behind his pillow just before he had settled to sleep: his wand; a quill; an ink jar and his vision book. When he found his wand, he cast a quick Lumos which then made finding the other objects much easier.

The dream he had just had, it was valuable and he needed to write it down straight away so nothing was forgotten. Every little part needed to be remembered because it could all lead to Harry figuring out a way to save Cedric's life.

Quickly flicking over the pages of the book which had already been written on, Harry soon found a clean page. He propped his wand up in between his knees and inked his quill before starting to write down what he had seen: a long, narrow passageway; both him and Cedric running, staying neck and neck throughout; Cedric tripping and immediately being wrapped in vines; Cedric's cries for help; Harry ripping the vines away from him and then helping him up; the both of them reaching forward towards the Triwizard Cup together; touching it at the same time; the sensation of using a Portkey; finding himself in a graveyard, THE graveyard.

Harry looked over what he had written and gave a small sigh. Now he knew exactly what was going to happen. Now he could plan effectively and for the first time, he felt some hope and confidence that he would be able to save Cedric's life.

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19th June 1995: Morning

Harry sighed lightly as he tore a neat rip in the letter he had just recieved from James and Lily, once again inviting him to stay with them at some point over the appraoching summer holidays. It was the fifth one he had recieved that week and it was extra stress he just really did not need. So much time had passed since he had last heard anything significant from his birth parents, a part of him had hoped they had given not. That obviously was not the case now, no doubt they had thought that giving him some space for a little while would make him more open to their advances...

"We did it." Fred's voice said abruptly, cutting into Harry's thoughts, as a copy of the Daily Prophet suddenly landed right in front of him, startling him slightly.

From where he sat at the Gryffindor table eating breakfast alone as it was still rather early in the morning, Harry glanced up to see the grinning faces of his two best friends. "Did what?"

"Look at the paper and see." George prompted excitedly as he and his twin bother sat down.

Harry gave them a slightly bewildered look before dutifully looking down and letting his gaze wander over the newspaper. The moment he read the headline his eyebrows shot up to his hair-line and the more he read the more surprise welled up inside him. After a few minutes, he looked back to the twins and shook his head slightly in astonishment.

"How?" Was all he could manage to get out.

"We know something Rita Skeeter would rather keep private." Fred grinned maliciously.

"And we bargained not to tell a soul if she wrote a retraction to her previous articles concerning you and your family as well as making her promise not to write anymore tripe about you."

Once again Harry found himself rather lost for words and his jaw worked uselessly for a few moments before a huge smile broke out on his face. "You're both brilliant, you know that? Completely and utterly fantastic."

"Think nothing of it." Fred insisted easily as he began to gather his breakfast on his plate.

"We're only glad we were of help." George assured as he copied his twin.

"So what was it you found out about her?"

"Uh, uh, uh." Fred said with a shake of his head. "We're men of our word, Harry."

"We promised not to tell a soul and we're sticking to that."

"Will say this though,"

"Rita Skeeter won't be "bugging" anyone else for quite some time."

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19th June 1995: Afternoon

"High Priest?" Harry said quickly as his teacher began to pack up his books. They had just completed their lesson for that week and the Elvish man was preparing to go. Harry could not let him though, not until he had asked what he needed to ask.

"Yes Haryon?" Sephiran answered, pausing in his packing to look at his student.

"I was wondering...If I could ask you something?"

"Of course, that is what I'm here for."

"I just...I wanted to know..." Harry stammered, unsure how best to phrase his question. "What I mean is..." He hesitated, glancing up to his teacher for a moment before looking away awkwardly again. "Is there any...Punishment, for not helping those who are in need and asking for help in a dangerous situation?"

"Well, I'm not sure if there is a punishment per say. Such a thing would be frowned upon but there are always exceptions to the rules depending on the circumstances..."

"What if by not saving someone from danger, you're actually saving their life?"

The Elvish man frowned lightly in confusion. "I don't see how that could be a possible situation. Haryon, why are you asking me this?"

"I've been having dreams. The professors, my family, they all think it's just a product of stress, of the pressure of competing in the Triwizard Tournament, but I know it's more. Something is going to happen in the Final Task and...Cedric Diggory is going to die. I've tried to talk him out of competing and there's no chance of getting the tournament cancelled. Still, I've been thinking it over and I might be able to save Cedric, but I'd have to allow him to be dragged out of the competition in order to do so."

"I see."

"I know they're visions, it is what's going to happen."

"In that case, Haryon, I believe you should do whatever it is that becomes necessary. I have no influence in Wizarding society so my protesting would do very little, but I can give you pardon to act as any situation demands." He stood then and came to stand in front of Harry. Then, he got down on his knees so that he was kneeling in front of his student. Gently, he reached forward and rested his hands on both of the teenager's shoulders. "I have seen darkness approaching you, Haryon, and although you cannot escape it, others can. I follow you into it of my own free will because I understand what I'm doing, but others who do not know...Do not let them follow you, Haryon, for it will only cause you heartache."

"I'm scared, High Priest." Harry admitted quietly, his eyes never straying from those of his teacher. "I've tried to warn them all but no one will believe me."

"Remember you are never alone, Haryon; the Great Lady will forever stand by your side. As long as you have faith, you cannot be hurt." And with that, the Elvish man rose to his feet again just as the door to the room opened to allow Professor Dumbledore to walk in, officially drawing the lesson to an end.

The past conversation had helped to calm a part of Harry but still he was worried. When the time came, would he really be able to bring himself to abandon Cedric, even if it was to save his life?
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Family Means More Than Blood