A/N: Hi, everyone! I'm back! I don't have any of my grades back yet, but I survived, so I think that should count for something. All jokes aside, I hope you had a great couple of weeks! Trying to write a Christmas-themed chapter while it's 107°F outside was a bit of a disconnect, so it's not the most festive chapter in the world, but I had a lot of fun writing it and I hope you all have fun reading it. See you all Saturday as I resume my normal updating schedule! Without any further ado, I'll let Henry Benjamin Furls take it away!

(Oh, and everything in italics within quotation marks is singing, everything not in italics is spoken word. Just for reference. 🥰)

(And I took one single liberty with the Queen lyrics at the end but I don't think Freddie Mercury would mind.)

(Anyway, happy reading!)

~

HENRY:

Penny Haywood kept Hufflepuff well-stocked on Dreamless Sleep Potion. Every week, the bookshelf in the corner of the common room was filled with a couple dozen doses, and every week, they disappeared. As I headed to bed after finishing my letter, I noticed that there were a couple left, but I didn't grab one. I had been alright enough without the extra help. Sure, I still had dreams I wished I didn't, but nothing I couldn't handle.

That night, though, was one of the hardest.

I'd dreamed often of losing Cedric, ever since Professor Trelawney had predicted his death when we were in third year. I hadn't believed her at the time, not really, but I'd never forgotten, either. It wasn't the type of thing anyone could forget, no matter how much they wanted to forget it. My dreams reflected my fears from time to time, and when my fears came true, my dreams reflected that, too. My dreams were a time machine, like in the Back to the Future movies Mum had showed me growing up. Sometimes they brought me back to that horrible night, when I had felt the weight of "The world will never be the same" settling on my shoulders. Sometimes they brought me back to other times, other moments, little moments of life, the little ordinary moments of life we don't appreciate until they're gone. The feeling of getting a Chocolate Frog card not already in your collection, the sound of running water after a hard Quidditch practice, the rush of getting a new spell right on the first try, the sight of the sun peeking through the clouds for the first time in a week. I'd experienced all of those moments with Cedric at one point or another, and it was those moments of mediocrity turned extraordinary by circumstance that found me most often.

But the moment that found me that night really was extraordinary. I'd known it even then.

Cedric's Muggle-born friend from St. Mungo's sent him a book of Eagles songs for guitar for Christmas, and he'd been itching for a chance to start trying to learn a couple, but he was shy and didn't want to try to learn with an audience. Apparently, Jabari had always preferred 70s Muggle music to 80s Muggle music and had gotten Cedric into it too, and that song was one of his favorites.

It was just the two of us in the dormitory that night. The other boys were off Merlin-knew-where with their dates from the Yule Ball, but I was writing a letter home and Cedric was trying to learn "Take It Easy," the book levitating in front of him as he tried to figure out the strumming pattern. He was doing alright, honest he was, but I could tell he was getting frustrated from the way he blinked hard and shook his head every time his fingers faltered.

As soon as Cedric had written to me about how much he was enjoying 70s music, I'd asked my mum to dust off her record player so I could learn at least a couple of songs. "Take It Easy" had been one of my favorite songs too. I knew it well. So the next time he got to the chorus and started to lose his confidence, I started singing softly along with his tempo.

"Take it easy, take it easy." I smiled when he looked up at me and stopped strumming. "What? You're doing great."

"I can't get my middle finger to move fast enough between G and E minor," Ced muttered, trying the transition a couple of times.

"You can try the next line, then," I suggested.

He nodded and studied the page for a moment before slowly strumming and singing, "Don't let the sound of your own wheels drive you crazy."

"Sounds like good advice to me." I grinned. "Come on Cedric, lighten up while you still can."

"Don't even try to understand," he replied with a grin. He looked back at the page and found the lines we'd just recited back and forth. He started strumming and singing again. "Just find a place to make your stand."

"And take it easy," we finished together, exchanging another grin.

"I told you that you were doing great," I said as I returned to my letter, before I could get flustered and make a fool of myself. "Just take it easy."

"Easier said than done, you know. This performance is a lot of pressure."

I chuckled. "Oh, shut up, it's just me."

"'Just you,' huh?"

"Just me," I said with a nod, not looking up at him. I hoped he couldn't see the tips of my ears burning. Just me.

The strumming started back up again, a bit more confident than before, and he hummed along softly to keep tempo. I wrapped up my letter just as he was beginning to perfect my personal favorite part of the song.

"We may lose and we may win, though we will never be here again," I sang. Cedric glanced over, grinning, but he didn't stop strumming, so I finished it out. "So open up, I'm climbin' in, so take it easy."

"Okay, now I have to ask, where'd you learn this song?"

I shrugged. "You seemed to be enjoying Jabari's 70s songs over summer, and Mum was all too happy for an excuse to introduce me to her favorite music."

"Really? That's wicked!" Cedric tossed me the book. "What's your favorite Eagles song? I'll try that one next!"

"This one, actually!"

"Oh, bugger, and here I am butchering it—"

"You're not butchering anything," I said, throwing the book at his head. "I happen to be thoroughly enjoying myself."

Cedric caught the book with his Seeker reflexes and dropped it on his bed. "The real song is far better," he insisted. He slipped the guitar off and jogged over to the radio. "I'll find it."

"Cedric, honestly, I love your version—"

But he wasn't listening. He was crouched in front of the radio, rapidly clicking through stations. We almost always had it set to the Wizarding Wireless Network, but Cedric was a man on a mission. He seemed determined to find the song even if he had to click through a thousand stations to get there.

"—in the good old-fashioned school of loverboys," came through the radio suddenly. Ced clicked past it, but I jumped up.

"Wait, no, I love this one too!" I rushed over and clicked back to the station in the middle of the guitar solo.

Cedric grinned. "You have good taste. This is another one of my favorites."

"Gretch loves this one, too, she dances around with her cat every time it comes on."

"I bet Nibbles loves that," he said with a laugh.

"You'd be surprised," I replied, surprised he remembered the name of my sister's cat. But then again, that was Cedric. I grinned and tuned back into the song. "Driving back in style in my saloon will do quite nicely, just take me back to yours that will be fine."

I reached forward and cranked up the volume for the last chorus, and we both launched into it enthusiastically.

As soon as the song ended, Cedric went to change the station in search of "Take It Easy," but the opening to "Waterloo" came through the radio and I swatted his hand away.

"You can't go past ABBA!" I said, deeply offended.

He grinned and shook his head. "Silly me."

"Waterloo" gave way to "Looks Like We Made It" which gave way to "Bridge Over Troubled Water" which gave way to "Hooked on a Feeling" which gave way to "Drift Away." Just when we were about to give up, though, a familiar G major chord rang out.

"YES!" Cedric turned to me with a radiant smile that reminded me just how lovesick I was. "I knew we'd find it!"

I grinned back, caught up in the magic of the moment. I reached for the volume, but rather than increasing the way it had last December, it got softer and softer as black filled my vision.

No, no, no, please don't go, not again—

I blinked against the sunlight. It was just a dream.

No. It wasn't just a dream. It was a memory.

I rolled over and looked at the radio in the corner. It was silent, the way it had been for almost six months. Clear as day, though, clear as memory, I could still hear "Take It Easy," both Cedric's version and the original.

I didn't look at his empty bed as I climbed out of my own. I made my way through my morning routine with vigor, trying to distance myself from the pain of the memory that had been relived but would never be repeated.

Hermione Granger waved me down before entering the Great Hall, so the two of us ducked into a hallway to talk in private.

"You can keep a secret, right?" she asked, studying me carefully.

I nodded. "I'm in the D.A. and a prefect, so keeping secrets has become a specialty of mine." Not to mention the secret I kept even from MYSELF for years. George is the only other person I've told THAT one. "I was just going to ask Lucy yesterday if she wanted to spend Christmas with my family, if she didn't already have plans, but she was gone."

Hermione snorted. "Yeah, I woke up to her empty bed and no Weasleys. It was a bit alarming, to say the least. Well..." She glanced back and forth to make sure no one was around before casting a silencing charm. "You can't tell anyone, and I mean anyone, but Mr. Weasley was attacked and Harry somehow knew about it because of a nightmare he had. Lucy was in the common room when Neville went for Professor McGonagall, so she went with Harry and the others to Professor Dumbledore's office and then off to where everyone is now. Mr. Weasley's going to be alright, though," she added, "and everyone else is alright, but they had to leave before Umbridge could stop them."

"That makes sense," I said with a nod. "I mean, not really, it's an odd situation, but I understand better now. I'm just glad Lucy won't be alone for Christmas."

"Definitely not. We'll take good care of her. I'm leaving at lunch today instead of tomorrow, since we only have a half day of classes."

"Well, since you're going to be seeing her sooner than I will, would you mind bringing her this?" I grabbed a little package out of my pocket and passed it to her. "I added her to the Hufflepuff Secret Santa list, but a lot of people weren't happy about that so I just figured I'd do something myself since she's not terribly popular with my house at the moment."

"Yeah, she mentioned to Ginny a couple of weeks ago that she feels like everyone in Hufflepuff wishes their roles were reversed," she said with a wince.

I blinked, too stunned to speak for a moment. "They — well, I can't speak for anyone other than myself, I suppose, but I don't — I've never thought that. They should be having Christmas together, it shouldn't be a question of which we would choose to have around."

"I agree. I tried telling her that much, but she's..." Hermione sighed. "I know healing takes time, I just wish it didn't. It's not a problem I can just solve, no matter how hard I try. Does that make sense?"

I nodded. "It does. I suppose that's just part of what makes us human, though. Thinking and feeling don't always go hand-in-hand. Sure would be nice if they did, though, huh?"

"That would be very nice," she agreed with a small smile. "Well, we should probably head back before anyone gets suspicious, but I'll be sure to give this to her."

"Thanks! And thanks for telling me about what happened. I suppose I should write one or both twins a letter to check in."

Hermione nodded. "Sounds like a plan. Have a good Christmas, Henry."

"You too!" She turned to walk away, but one last thought occurred to me. "Oh, wait, Hermione?"

"Yes?" she asked, turning back.

"Since you'll be with Lucy, you should know that Cedric loved Christmas." I swallowed hard. "And I mean loved Christmas. It might be hard time of year for her, harder than the past couple months, anyway."

"Thanks, Henry. We'll do our best to take care of her, I promise. Remember to take care of yourself too, alright?"

I nodded. "I'll do my best."

~

I didn't pay too much attention in class that day. I was preoccupied by a number of much more relevant matters than ornithomancy.

I hoped the Weasleys were doing alright. I couldn't even imagine how hopeless I'd feel if something happened to my dad. Dads were supposed to be invincible, or so I thought. He'd been my rock through the summer, somehow always knowing when to push me to get out of the house and when to let me stay in bed for the day. I'd never been one for fishing, but I'd done it a fair amount over summer with my dad. The sunshine was nice, the silence was nicer. It was something to do without really doing anything. I couldn't imagine what summer would have been like without that.

I hoped Harry was alright, too. I wasn't about to try to understand what had happened, but I vaguely remembered Professor Trelawney talking about something that had happened with him in Divination the year before. Maybe he was a Seer of sorts. I hadn't put much stock into things like that until Professor Trelawney's prediction about Cedric turned out to be true. She was all too happy to add me to her N.E.W.T. class even though I hadn't done it sixth year. It wasn't that I all of a sudden believed everything about Divination, but after she was right about Cedric... I just couldn't bring myself to ignore it completely. I wanted to ignore it. I wanted to brush it off as a coincidence and never look in a tea cup again. But, at the same time, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I couldn't risk intentional ignorance, no matter how well-intentioned it was.

Most of all, I hoped Lucy was alright. The sleepwalking incident was really something, and she'd really done a number on her shoulder, but I knew that was truthfully among the least of her worries. I was glad she was going to spend Christmas with people who loved her. I knew she'd be safe. There was no way anyone there would let anything happen to her, and my family wouldn't have let anything happen to her either. I just wished there was something I could do to make the next couple of weeks easier for her. We'd be celebrating Christmas without Cedric. We'd be ringing in a new year without Cedric. But I wanted to believe we'd be okay anyway. I had to believe it.

I was thinking about something I'd said to Hermione, too, about thinking and feeling. I'd always lived more in my head than anything, trying to make decisions that made logical sense rather than decisions that made me happy, but that had been harder than ever when happiness was harder than ever to come by. Accepting the position of prefect made logical sense. I knew Cedric better than anyone else in Hufflepuff, so I was able to emulate him best. Being Quidditch Captain made logical sense, too. I had been on the team since second year, same as Cedric. Joining Dumbledore's Army made logical sense. I wanted to know how to defend myself, and I wanted to encourage other people to join, too.

But there were other decisions on my plate that weren't so easy. My career, for instance. For years, I'd told everyone I'd intern at the Ministry and figure it out from there. I'd get as many N.E.W.T.s as I could, try a couple of different departments, and find my place. The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes always sounded like fun, and Dad had always enjoyed his work with the Department of Magical Games and Sports.

In the same line of games and sports, though, Oliver Wood gave me pause. I had never let myself consider the possibility of playing Quidditch professionally. Taking a risk like that wasn't logical. I wasn't nearly good enough, or so I thought. His enthusiasm flattered me, flustered me. More scouts were coming to my next match. If they liked what they saw, a whole new world might be opened up to me, but if I decided to go that direction, it would be because I felt like it was the best option, not because it made any logical sense. But it did, it did feel like the best option. I had never really wanted to work for the Ministry, I just knew it made the most sense. Everyone could make a good enough living working for the Ministry, everyone could find a place they belonged in the Ministry. The world of professional Quidditch was frightening, yet alluring. I'd always loved Quidditch, but to think I could maybe make a career of it was an option I'd never seriously considered.

The war between my logic and my emotions was shifting weight, and I was painfully aware of it as I tried to discern something from the way the owl was moving around the room. I didn't gather anything useful, though, and I was quite relieved to escape the Divination classroom and make my way down to the Great Hall for lunch.

I waved goodbye to Hermione as she left and slid into the open seat next to Martin.

"Henry Furls, just the man I wanted to see!" he exclaimed.

"You saw me this morning," I retorted. "Surely you can't have missed me that much."

"Oh, of course not, I would never miss you. No, I just got a letter from my brother asking if you wanted to visit us at one point over the holiday. A few of his Quidditch mates are coming for a couple of days to play, and they need another Keeper."

My face grew hot. "And he wants me?"

"I'm a bloody awful Keeper, he's tried to teach me how to play for almost eighteen years now. Yes, he wants you! You're the best Keeper at Hogwarts at the moment, and he knows we're friends."

"That we are." I cleared my throat. "Er, yeah, I'd like that. I'm sure my parents wouldn't mind."

"Great!" he said with a grin. "He'll be excited to hear that. He was impressed with you."

"So I heard," I replied, face growing even hotter.

I was spared from further embarrassment by the arrival of Archie, who was chattering excitedly about how glad he was I had decided to keep up the Hufflepuff Secret Santa tradition. He and Martin spent the rest of lunch trying to get me to give hints about who had gotten who, but I resisted their attempts while laughing at their antics. After lunch, the Hufflepuff holiday celebration began.

The common room was happy and bright. Even Cedric's portrait was involved in the fun, as people rushed over to show him the various magical trinkets they'd received from their Secret Santas. Once all of the gifts had been opened, the wrapping paper was crumpled into balls and launched across the room by some people while others made their way over to the game cabinet and started pulling out all kinds of board games and card games, magic and Muggle alike. One group of people even left to go play Quidditch, even though it was snowing harder by the minute. They asked if I wanted to join them, but Gretch had just challenged me to a game of Guess Who? and I couldn't possibly say no to an offer like that.

We ended up playing best three out of five, and we were tied 2-2 heading into the fifth game. I ended up winning, but we decided to have a rematch as soon as we got home for Christmas, and we figured we could make a tournament out of it over the holiday break. The common room emptied as everyone headed to dinner, but I stayed behind to set up for Round Two. Emily, the other seventh-year prefect, ran off to the kitchens to get hot chocolate makings and marshmallows to roast and whatever other treats she could find, so Cedric's portrait and I were alone.

"I can see why I enjoyed Christmas so much," he commented. "That was the happiest I've ever seen everyone."

I nodded, smiling a bit. "I was thinking the same thing."

"You did well, Henry, really well."

"Not as well as you."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Believe it," I replied as I smiled a bit wider. "I know you're never going to believe me when I tell you that you were the best, but I mean it."

"I know you mean it, but I mean it too. You're the best."

I flushed. "Right. Well, when you used to tell me that, I'd say something like, 'I try to be, but I think you're the best.' We went in circles quite a bit with that one."

"The word 'try' seems like a deliberate attempt to weaken the impact of how successful you are at being the best."

I grabbed a ball of wadded-up wrapping paper and launched it at him. "Stop reading my mind, Ced, it's not fair."

He laughed. "Stop minimizing the credit you truly deserve and I'll consider it."

I launched another wrapping paper ball at him. "Git."

"Your favorite git," he said cheekily.

I froze. I hadn't told Cedric that he used to say that to me. He said that of his own volition.

"Is — did I say something wrong?" Ced's portrait asked.

"No, not at all," I replied, recovering quickly. I straightened up and looked at the common room's radio in the corner. "Say, Ced, have I told you about your favorite songs yet?"

When he shook his head, I took a deep breath and smiled. With a flick of my wand and a silent prayer to whoever might be listening, the radio burst to life. "Good Old-Fashioned Loverboy" by Queen was just ending, so I jumped in and serenaded Cedric, using a ball of wrapping paper on the tip of my wand as a "microphone."

Ooh, love
Ooh, loverboy
What're you doin' tonight, hey, boy?
Everything's alright
Just hold on tight
That's because I'm a good old-fashioned loverboy

I threw my head back and laughed. "That was one of your favorites. Let's see what's next!"

A G chord I hadn't heard in far too long came through the speakers. I cranked up the volume as loud as I could, and unlike my dream, it turned all the way up this time.

"This was your favorite 70s song!" I shouted over the music.

Cedric smiled. "I can see why!" he shouted back.

"I'll teach you the words!" I laughed again, something like giddiness swelling up in me. Invisible magic swirled through the room. It was a miracle, his favorite song coming on at that exact moment. "You have to know your favorite song!"

I cast a couple of decorative charms to make the room even livelier as the music swelled. As soon as the singing started, I shouted the words like a declaration, Cedric grinning from ear to ear every time I looked his direction. I knew what he was thinking, just from looking at him — he was still my best friend, after all. I knew he was thinking about how this was the happiest he'd ever seen me, and it was quite possible he was right.

I let the radio keep playing on full volume and sang along as I tossed wrapping paper into the fireplace and cast a couple of charms to make the fire burn the color of whatever paper it was burning. As if the DJ had a list of Cedric's favorite 70s songs right on their desk, "Take It Easy" gave way to "All the Young Dudes" which gave way to "Dancing Queen" which gave way to "Don't Go Breaking My Heart" which gave way to "You're My Best Friend."

I smiled at him and let the lyrics speak for themselves, changing "girl" to "boy" and meaning every word. I'd never been "with" Cedric, not that way, but that didn't make the words any less true. Cedric and I had never gotten to be each other's loverboys — and Merlin only knows if that ever would have happened anyway — we had been best friends. That was indisputable, and that would never change no matter how much time passed. 

~

Ooh, you make me live
Whatever this world can give to me
It's you you're all I see
Ooh, you make me live now, honey
Ooh, you make me live

Oh, you're the best friend that I ever had
I've been with you such a long time
You're my sunshine and I want you to know
That my feelings are true
I really love you
Oh, you're my best friend

Ooh, you make me live
Ooh, I've been wandering 'round
Still come back to you (still come back to you)
In rain or shine, you've stood by me, boy
I'm happy at home (happy at home)
You're my best friend

Ooh, you make me live
Whenever this world is cruel to me
I got you to help me forgive
Ooh, you make me live now, honey
Ooh, you make me live

Oh, you're the first one when things turn out bad
You know I'll never be lonely
You're my only one
And I love the things
I really love the things that you do
Oh, you're my best friend

Ooh, you make me live, live, live, live

I'm happy, happy at home
You're my best friend
Oh, oh, you're my best friend

Ooh, you make me live
Ooh, you're my best friend

"You're My Best Friend"
Queen