Cedric Diggory and Herbert Fleet were running through the halls, climbing the stairs from the Hufflepuff Common Room, throwing a quaffle back and forth as they went, broomsticks carefully tucked through their belt loops and the shoulder straps of their book bags to balance so they could carry them hands-free. Cedric laughed as Herbert fumbled and made a dramatic lunge to catch the quaffle as they crossed the Entrance Hall.

"Hi Cedric," people were saying as they passed by.

"Way to go Ced."

"Rooting for you, Diggory."

Buttons spun - POTTER STINKS! glowing from the chests of several people. Cedric tried not to notice the badges. After all, he'd had nothing to do with them - rumor had it Draco Malfoy had been producing and handing them out.

"What the hell is that you're wearing?" he'd asked Malcolm Pearce just that morning when he'd turned up wearing one.

"Isn't it grand?" Malcolm had laughed, looking down at the badge and angling it so it spun from Potter Stinks to a picture of Cedric's face. I SUPPORT DIGGORY, it said in garish lettering 'round the edges. He tapped it again and it spun back 'round to the green POTTER STINKS! side. "We can tell who's for you from a mile away." Malcolm grinned and elbowed Michael McManus with amusement.

"Well take it off," Cedric had commanded him. "That's awful. The poor bloke's under enough pressure without that." He'd plucked the badges off Malcolm and Michael then and unceremoniously dumped them in the bin. Herbert and Cedric had spent a good portion of the morning plucking them from as many of the Hufflepuffs as they could - but several, like Ernie Macmillion, refused to take them off.

"I invoke my inalienable right to root for who I wish," said Ernie, refusing Cedric's demand to hand over the offending badge. "I've paid for it --"

"Paid for it!" Cedric exclaimed, "Who's made you pay for it?"

"Crabbe and Goyle. They were selling them at breakfast. Only five sickles."

"Five sickles!" Cedrick said, rolling his eyes, "Bloody hell. Five sickles too many. I'll give you seven to take it off."

"No way! I'm proud of you being in the Tourney - you're MY Hogwarts Champion, whatever Potter thinks he is!" Ernie folded his arms over his chest.

Herbert had pulled Cedric along with him, "C'mon, Ced, you'll have to give it up as a bad job. We've got to go and meet Oliver Kent."

But still, Cedric felt rather awful about the stupid badges, which were popping up everywhere all over the school. He wondered if the Slytherins really were getting five sickles for each badge and, if they were, what the bleeding hell they would do with all that money?

They were about halfway across the Entrance Hall when Cedric threw the quaffle to Herbert and the ball soared by and bounced off into the Great Hall as Herbert stood, transfixed, staring at the entry doors. "Grand catch, Fleet," Cedric complained, casting an accio to get the ball back. He paused, seeing Herbert's face, and turned, following his gaze. "Hey - is that Professor Lupin?"

"Yeah," Herbert said, "Yeah it is!" He abandoned Cedric and rushed across the room. "Professor!" he shouted, rushing up to where Remus Lupin was about to start climbing the stairs, "Professor Lupin!"

Remus paused and turned 'round, looking eager and then seeing Herbert Fleet, a slightly dampened look came over him. "Mr. Fleet," he said, "How are you?"

"Swell," Herbert answered. He looked hopeful, "Please tell me you're here on account of Dumbledore's decided to rehire you on, hey?"

Remus Lupin smiled, "No, just here for a meeting with the headmaster. Not about employment," he added quickly. "Do you not like Professor Moody?" he asked interestedly.

"Moody's brilliant, just not as brilliant as you were," Herbert answered with a shrug. "I mean, we're learning sure, but he's not one for practical classes like you were... I'll never forget the day with the Grindylow. You're the best teacher Hogwarts ever had - hands down."

Remus smiled. Then, gently, "I appreciate that sentiment quite a lot."

"It's rubbish they sacked you," Cedric spoke up, coming up behind Herbert, quaffle tucked under one arm. He wanted to ask if the rumors were true, if what his father had said - that Remus Lupin was a werewolf - was true... but if it wasn't, he didn't want to insult the bloke with an accusation like that sort. So he kept his mouth shut.

"I was very sorry about it myself, however, it's a real treat that you're getting to learn from Professor Moody. He taught for a time during my days at Hogwarts and was a very interesting teacher, he taught us the value of vigilance."

"Constantly," Herbert and Cedric said at the same time.

Remus chuckled. "Yes, constant vigilance." He paused. Then, "Does he -er- say that a lot still? I thought perhaps he might've changed over the years...?"

"Oh all the time," nodded Cedric. "You'd think the bloke was a broken record the way he goes on."

Herbert nodded vigorously in agreement.

Remus chuckled. He gestured toward their broomsticks, poking up over their shoulders. "Looks like the lot of you are off to the pitch?"

"Yeah, Diggory's got practice with his trainer," Herbert said, then, in a tone meant to impress Remus, he said, "With Oliver Kent."

Remus smiled, "Ah yes, Oliver Kent... He was in Gryffindor when he went to school. I was prefect the year he started at Hogwarts. I remember when he was just an ickle little thing... I heard he's done very well with the Chudley Cannons. You must be very excited to be training with such a good player?"

Herbert elbowed Cedric and Cedric grinned bashfully, "Yeah, I'm really excited."

"Is this quidditch training or training for the Triwizard Tournament?" Remus questioned. "Congratulations, by the way, being selected as Hogwarts Champion..." he paused, and worry trembled on his features. "How are you feeling about that? I've read they can be rather dangerous."

"I'd be a bit better if I knew what the first challenge was," Cedric said with a grin, "But mostly confident - and with a large thanks to you."

Remus smiled, though it was a weak one. He patted Cedric's shoulder, "Well I wish you luck and I'll be rooting for you, of course."

"Not Harry Potter?" pressed Herbert.

Remus said, "I'll be rooting for you both."

Cedric smiled, though Herbert looked ready to push the point and Cedric cleared his throat to stop him saying anything more on the subject and said, "Oi, Fleet, we don't want to keep Oliver Kent waiting do we?"

"Ahoy!" Herbert replied, glancing at his watch, then up at Remus, "We've got to skedaddle."

Remus chuckled and glanced at his own watch, "I do as well, I have a meeting with Dumbledore and the way I take the stairs it'll take me half the morning to get up to his office. You two have fun... and again, good luck, Cedric. And stay safe."

Cedric saluted, "Aye, aye," and he herded Herbert off out the door and onto the grounds, leaving Remus Lupin to climb the stairs to Dumbledore's office.

Outside it was sunny even though it was crisp and cool, and the air smelled like autumn. They rushed down the path to the pitch. "Nice seeing Professor Lupin, ey?" Herbert called over his shoulder.

"He looked a bit better than he did at the end of last term," Cedric said, "That was a relief. He was a right state in June."

"Yeah, he was probably scared mindless, what with Sirius Black lurking about, ready to attack him any moment and all," Herbert said. "Can't imagine what it would be like to have a murderer for an ex best mate, can you? Oi, if you ever turn 'round and become a Death Eater, promise you won't come stalking after me?"

"Promise," Cedric laughed, "Though if I was a Death Eater, I wouldn't give much thought to promises, would I?"

"I suppose not," Herbert replied. "But it'll make me sleep better thinking you would."

They arrived at the pitch to find Oliver wasn't there yet. They decided to mount their brooms and play a bit of catch, continuing throwing the quaffle back and forth, this time taking it to the air. They'd been at it maybe fifteen minutes before Oliver Kent arrived, breathless and full of apologies for keeping them waiting.

"Something came up," Oliver said.

Cedric wondered if it occurred to Oliver that they could smell the alcohol on him?

But despite the obvious indulgences that had been had the night before, Oliver seemed to be on his game as he led them in a quick warm up before grabbing the box of practice snitches and motioning for Cedric to follow him into the sky. Herbert grinned and waved, flying to the stands and having himself a lie-down where he could watch with his legs propped up on the box wall.

Oliver and Cedric flew up into the sky over the pitch until Herbert was barely more than a flea-sized dot and the trees of the Forbidden Forest waved gently in the breeze, the sunlight glittering off the lake. The wind was strong but sounded a bit like a calming rush like being at the sea and Cedric drew a deep breath, letting the beauty of being so high above the earth wash through him and take away some of the anxiety he'd been building up worrying about Harry and the Tourney and those stupid badges and everything. There was nothing like flying up, up and away from the world to gain perspective and peace.

Oliver drew a deep breath, too, and looked over at Cedric. "Nice up here, isn't it?" he asked.

Cedric nodded. "It's my favorite part, honestly."

"It's always been mine as well. It's like there's a certain number of feet up and then you break into this other realm and your mind is just... free."

Cedric agreed, "That's it exactly."

Oliver said, "It's like up here you can really see the world, I mean not as a whole-whole, but you know? It's easy to think that you haven't got much to offer the world when you see how big it is, but the thing is we all have something... From up here, you can almost think that maybe you're not all the things that have happened to you... and you can see that you can and will do really great things if you believe in yourself. You know?"

Cedric smiled sadly, "Yeah. I feel that. Sometimes, it's like the world has a whole lot of expectations for you and you don't feel like you much stack up to them." He looked at Oliver.

Oliver nodded. "It's an opportunity to show the world what you're made of is what expectations are. You can live up to them. You can exceed them. But you have to believe in yourself, even if nobody else does."

Cedric looked at Herbert. "I reckon I always have someone that's believing in me."

Oliver followed Cedric's gaze. "You're lucky to have a best mate like him."

"I know," Cedric said. He looked over at Oliver. "I'm sure you must have someone like that, too, yeah? Someone who believes in you no matter what?"

Oliver nodded, though his mind was spinning out thinking about it. He had always thought Wally was that for him, but lately... He didn't know. Declan Alectric's words from that morning over breakfast seemed to echo then.

He's jerking you around.

Is he? Oliver wondered.

Even if he was, there were others, weren't there? What about Jasper and Meg? He wasn't sure anymore - he'd let them down so much and sure things were at least tentatively better for now, but they were also still a little strained, the time having put something there that Oliver hadn't ever expected to feel. They'd adopted him, sure, but they weren't really his parents - his parents were long dead and he'd live three times as long without them as he had lived with them at this point. Strange how much thinking of them still hurt when so much life had passed without them there. And then, of course, there was James Potter.

"I'll always believe in you," James had said, straddling a broomstick very much like Oliver and Cedric were doing right then.

But he's dead, Oliver thought, reminding himself.

And just like that, James's voice echoed in his head again: "Just because people die doesn't mean they can't believe in you still, Ollie."

"What if I make mistakes?" Oliver asked, looking at James Potter, silhouetted against the grey-blue sky.

"Of course you'll make mistakes," he said.

Declan had looked at Oliver not two hours ago and asked him about the drinking, asked him why he'd been passed out drunk. And what had Oliver said? It was a mistake.

A big mistake. He'd had so many big mistakes. Even bigger than the drinking. Bigger than the sky itself it seemed sometimes. Too big for forgiveness.

"You believe in me even though I'll make mistakes?" Oliver had pressed.

"Yes. I believe in you to fix'em too."

"What if I can't fix'em?"

"You can." James Potter's voice had been so firm, so sure. 

Oliver didn't think he'd heard anyone in all the world say anything with so much certainty before or since that day.

As he floated there in mid-air, remembering, something caught his eye - a flash as a cloud shifted and the sunlight struck something. Oliver squinted and he spotted the source of the reflection - the brass bell high up in the pinnacle of the old Bell Tower.

Cedric was staring at Oliver with expectation.

Oliver smiled. Then, "Cedric, have you done much reading on Quidditch training and the theories behind the sport?"

"I've read loads of Quaffle Talk," Cedric answered. "Me and Herb, we share a subscription. And of course I've read Through the Ages."

"Of course," Oliver said. Then, "You ever heard of a triangulation?"

"Only the bits you talked about in that one interview you did a couple years ago."

"Alright, well, it's a bit like maths - but don't worry if you're not so good at maths, you can still pick it up. These practice snitches, they're pro-grade, meaning they work on a triangulation to the pitch. School grade snitches will work on a triangulation with the quaffle, but once you get the hang of how it works, you can adjust how you're doing your Seeking and find the snitch near to instantly every time just based on the pitch's dimensions and the location of the quaffle. See, its like this --" and Oliver shook a practice snitch out of his pocket and set it free, watching as it spun away from his hand, across the sky, and as far away as his troubles seemed to be... for the moment, at least.