DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters seen in this story, nor do I own any of the places, sports, or Houses. Furthermore, I do not own the copyright to the song "Dirty Little Secret." Please, stop plagiarism.
WARNING: This is a slash fic, meaning male/male relationships. If that offends you in any way, shape, or form, please do not read this. I accept criticism, either good or bad, but any flames based on ignorance or intolerance will not be taken lightly and I will make sure of it.
Now, without any further interruption...
DIRTY LITTLE SECRET
CHAPTER 1: Dirty Little Secret
"For the last time, Diggory, I said no!"
"That's totally unfair! If it weren't for the dementors, Harry would have caught the Snitch! You know it, I know it, and Wood knows it, too! All I'm asking for is a rematch, that's all!"
"But you don't know that, Diggory! You two were neck and neck for the Snitch and the dementors coming onto the field was just another circumstance of the game, as unfortunate and unfair as it may be! That is my final decision. No more of this nonsense."
"But, Madam..."
"No more, Diggory, or Hufflepuff will be disqualified from the championship altogether! Is that clear?"
Cedric Diggory, his sandy brown hair plastered against his squarish face by the torrential downpour outside the rickety tent, merely looked back into Madam Hooch's stern, hawk-like eyes, muttering,
"Yes, Madam Hooch. Perfectly clear."
With a curt nod and turning on her heel, Madam Hooch made her way out from under the tent and back into the continuous rain, returning to the school along with the remainder of the crowd. Cedric merely watched as she left, clenching his left fist as hard as he could, a defeated feeling washing over him in spite of winning the match. His fist squeezed hard enough to inadvertently shatter one of the lenses of his Seeker goggles. Opening his hand and glancing at the broken plastic, he sighed as he pulled his wand out from under his rain-soaked, canary yellow Quidditch robe.
He tapped the side of the eyepiece and muttered, "Occulus reparo." Instantly, the tiny shards danced from his hand and refitted themselves into the goggles.
"There," Cedric muttered unenthusiastically, "Good as new."
Placing the eyewear into his robes once more, a loud roar of rage caught his ear. It was clearly heard over the constant and deafening pitter-patter of the rain above, almost as if it was calling to the Hufflepuff student.
"Diffindo," Cedric muttered as he grabbed a piece of the tent's door flap, severing the little piece to hold over his head as he plunged into the storm towards the locker building.
The sky above the grand Quidditch pitch was a dark, murky grey as the Hufflepuff Seeker ran through the storm, his flimsy cover having been blown off seconds after he stepped out from the relative dryness of the tent. His hair once again matted against his forehead and his robes whipping wildly due to the rushing rain and the howling wind, Cedric ran his right hand over his head, getting the stinging rainwater out of his warm, grey eyes. But, just as his fingers made contact, his left foot sank into the mire and stuck, causing him to fall forward into the mud with a disgusting squelch. He remained there for a moment and then lifted up his face, which was completely saturated from hairline to chin in a dirty mask. Rising to his feet once more, he continued to walk towards the roaring sound which emanated from the barely-visible locker building in front of him.
Several thoughts passed through the Seeker's mind as he trudged throught the turbulent rain, his hair and his robes continuing to get drenched and whipped around by the downpour and the swift wind. His mind raced, Who could be in the locker rooms now besides the rest of the Hufflepuff team? But they should have left about ten minutes ago. I mean, the Gryffindors all left with Harry, didn't they? Of course they did! It's probably just Peeves planning another practical joke on the students. I should definitely tell the Bloody Baron about it when I see him next...As if in response to that, another angered roar escaped from the locker building, immediately making Cedric rethink, Okay, maybe it's not Peeves... But who could it be then? The wheels in his mind turned again for a moment before another thought hit him, Fred and George Weasley! Probably trying to think up another prank. No better than Peeves, those two... Wait a minute. They went with Harry after he was taken to the hospital wing. Thinking again, his final thought made his hopeful heart skip a beat, Oliver.
Let me know what I've done wrong
When I've known this all along
I go around a time or two
Just to waste my time with you
There had always been something about the Gryffindor Keeper that drove the Hufflepuff Seeker absolutely insane. Well, a lot of things that drove the Hufflepuff Seeker insane. He has such determination in those big brown eyes, and the way he runs his hands through his hair, Cedric would muse as he laid in his four-poster bed, surrounded by dark gold curtains, twitching with lust and want as thoughts of the burly Scot would fill his mind. That tan skin, his rough touch, that Scottish brogue, he could go on and on as he would toss and turn through his covers at night, a pillow between his legs as he fantasized about a romantic rendezvous with the Gryffindor. What I wouldn't give for one night, Cedric would think every day as he sat in the Great Hall over his meals, eyeing Oliver as he laughed with his friends, concentrated on his schoolwork, or focused on Quidditch plays for his next match.
Tell me all that you've thrown away
Find out games you don't wanna play
You are the only one that needs to know
Surprised that he had now reached the door to the locker building, the Seeker's heart fell at that last thought. Quidditch, he inwardly sighed, I almost forgot. Wood probably hates me right about now, seeing as how I caught the Snitch as Harry fell.He placed his hand on the wooden door and pushed it open, the overwhelming smell of steam and sweat wafting into his nose, causing him to tense up a bit at the offending odor. I forgot how bad it smells in here after a game, with all the showering and changing and...Just at that moment, a rather... immodest thought of Oliver popped into his head as he set his muddy foot onto the white tile. Now completely inside the building, Cedric stepped further in and, with a loud, reverberating slam, the wooden door closed. Tracking mud along the floor, he walked down a long hallway until he reached two doors, labelled in gold with a red lion, "Gryffindor Locker Room." Tentatively, he outstretched his hand to push the door open, when another, smaller cry of rage echoed throughout the building, followed by a continuing series of thumps. Cedric recoiled a bit and, after a moment, found the courage to enter the locker room, each thump seeming to coincide with his hammering heartbeat. As the door gave in, a great rush of warm steam blew into his face, causing him to cough a bit as he took cautious steps onto the red, gold, and white tiles, all the while repeating in his head, I should not be in here... I should not be in here... I should not be in here...
I'll keep you my dirty little secret
(Dirty little secret)
Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret
(Just another regret, hope that you can keep it)
My dirty little secret
Who has to know
"No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! No!"
Oliver Wood, his short brown hair drenched by the unrelenting showerhead, continued to smash his head against the tile, mixing the disorienting pain with the constant white-hot pricks of the water. Clenched in his right hand was his wand: 13 inches of mahogany with a dragon heartstring as its core; good for charms and splendidly rigid, as Mr. Ollivander had put it. At this moment though, the particular dimensions and composition of his wand were of little consequence, for all he wanted right now was to take out his anger and self-doubt on the world around him.
However, he thought, the showers will do.
Turning around quickly and whipping the wand, Oliver cried, "Bombarda!" A white spark shot out of the end and collided with the opposite side of the communal shower, causing a loud explosion and sending pieces of red, gold, and white tiles, along with grey brick, scattering on the ground. A large hole was all that remained of the spot.
When we live such fragile lives
It's the best way we survive
I go around a time or two
Just to waste my time with you
His body heaving from the self-pity he was placing on his own shoulders, Oliver turned back slowly and continued to be buffeted by the hot water, resuming his head-smashing. He couldn't believe it: Gryffindor had lost.
The Quidditch Cup is lost now, the Keeper thought, ever since I was made Captain, that's all I've thought about, and how it was taken from me every year. My fourth year, Chadwick broke both of his wrists because of that damn Slytherin beater. My fifth year, Potter was incapacitated and we got destroyed by Ravenclaw. My sixth year, the final match with Hufflepuff was cancelled because of the bloody Heir of Slytherin. And now, my seventh year, my final chance to win the Cup, and it's been snatched away from me before we could even get off the ground. Ruddy dementors, why during this game? Why not one of Slytherin's games, or Ravenclaw's? Why us? This was my last chance for glory, and I completely blew it!
With one more sigh, he rested his head against the wall and felt as the hot water ran through his face and his hair, down his neck, and all over his back and chest before moving down his private regions and along the contours of his legs, finally collecting in a small pool on the floor before flowing down the drain.
"Damn you, Diggory," Oliver muttered to himself, "Damn you."
Tell me all that you've thrown away
Find out games you don't wanna play
You are the only one that needs to know
Immediately, he felt a pang of regret when he had said that last statement; in fact, he actually adored the Hufflepuff Seeker. The way his sand-colored hair would fall in front of his luminous, steel grey eyes drove the seventh-year Gryffindor to the edge of his sanity as he watched Cedric every day over breakfast, lunch, and dinner as he laughed and talked. In fact, it's no wonder he was put in Hufflepuff, too. He's so nice to everyone, Oliver would think as he would watch the young Diggory help someone who had dropped their books, lead a lost first-year to their class, or give someone a compliment when they had had a bad day, even if he didn't know them. The Hufflepuff's helpful, good-hearted nature would just make the Gryffindor swoon all the more as he'd back against a stone wall and sigh, his spellbooks clutched against his heart. His thoughts weren't limited to personality or facial features either, as he had many... interesting dreams about how Cedric looked under the yellow and black of his robes, and how he would confess his love to Oliver before they consummated their passion for each other. In frustration though, he would wake up and face reality once more: Cedric Diggory was a straight boy and would never, ever see him in that sort of way. And so, I told myself that I would only admire the boy from afar, Oliver promised himself and confided his crush with his best friend and roommate, Percy Weasley.
But, now,Oliver thought, Now, I can't even look him in the face after losing like that. He would never see me as an equal again. Only as the loser, the joke of a Captain who couldn't even win the Cup after years of trying. I can't look him in the eye.He slumped his well-defined shoulders and, completely crestfallen, just braced his head against the wall, the hot water offering no respite from the cold and emptiness he felt deep within his being. He almost missed a shuffle of sound to his right, around the corner just outside of the shower. Almost.
I'll keep you my dirty little secret
(Dirty little secret)
Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret
(Just another regret, hope that you can keep it)
My dirty little secret
Who has to know
Tightening his grip on his wand, Oliver swivelled his head slowly and silently before making his way towards the entrance. His bare feet stealthily touched the tile floor without a sound as he came closer and closer to the rustling and the darkness of the locker room that stood around the corner from the showers. Then, just as the shuffling noise was upon him, Oliver raised his wand and, with a shout of, "Lumos," the tip of the wand and the entire corridor came into light.
There, before him, with a muddy front and drenched Hufflepuff Quidditch robes, was Cedric Diggory.
Well,Cedric thought as he stared down the shaft of the lit wand, this is a rather precarious situation. I just beat Oliver Wood less than an hour ago, I hear roaring sounds, and now I have Mr. Wood himself pointing a wand at my face. Absolutely wonderful!
A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead and over his cheek as the white light illuminated that cherubic face, pulled in an uncomfortable mixture between surprise and annoyance, those wide, brown eyes hard and ruthless.
"Diggory," Oliver gasped, his surprised voice changing to a more bitter tone, "What the hell are you doing in here? This is Gryffindor's locker room!"
A quick chill ran up Cedric's spine as he heard the Scot say his name in that irresistable accent before he quickly noticed one very important detail: Oliver was stark naked. Aglow in the light from the wand's tip, the Keeper's rock-hard body shone through the darkness, his chest and abdominal muscles bathed in a lurid white light. Stunned to be in such a position, the Seeker, his mouth agape, couldn't take his eyes off the sight before him, his entire body too afraid to move lest this be some kind of twisted fantasy gone awry.
Young Diggory, the few mud-free splotches on his face becoming redder and redder, stuttered as he tried to hide his glee, embarassment, and the growing problem in his pants, "Ummm, sorry, Wood. I, er... I just came to see what all the, er, racket was in here. Y'see, I was on the field after the match and I heard yelling, so I..."
Oliver had had enough though as he bellowed sarcastically, "Don't worry about it, Diggory! You've already taken the Quidditch Cup from me, along with my dignity! What's the harm if I lose my modesty along the way?" He turned back around and stormed into the showers. Through clenched teeth, he muttered, "Nox," and the light extinguished, followed by a clattering sound as he chucked his wand across the shower room, leaving it on the ground. The defeated Scot resumed wallowing under the shower stream, utterly depressed once more.
The way he feels inside
Hearing the Gryffindor Keeper stalk back into the showers, Cedric sighed. He really wanted to win the cup this year. After everything that happened over the last few years, he just wanted that one moment of glory where he showed everyone that his team was the best, and I blew it for him. No wonder he hates me,he thought as he stepped closer to the roundabout into the shower and slumped against the edge, not wanting to embarass himself or Oliver anymore by looking at the naked seventh-year. With a heavy heart, he sank down the wall and sat on the damp tiles of the floor.
Those thoughts I can't deny
"Listen, Wood," Cedric started his voice echoing between them, "I know you're angry at me because of what happened out there." He was answered only by the running water of the shower that Wood tried to drown himself in, so he continued, "But I want to beat Slytherin as much as you do, just to show the school that Hufflepuff isn't just a bunch of little goody two shoes, that we can kick some arse, too. Not to mention the fact that Hufflepuff hasn't won a single Quidditch Cup in over fifty years and, with my father always on my back, well, I have just as much to live up to as you do!" A flicker of his own annoyance and anger creeped into his voice, "You're not the only one who has a great team, and I think it's about time that Hufflepuff got its fifteen minutes of fame!"
Cedric got to his feet, thinking, That arrogant Scot! He probably thinks that this is all about him! Well, I'll show him what's what!He rounded the corner into the shower and immediately stopped, his grey eyes wide at what he saw.
There stood Oliver Wood, the object of Cedric's affection, under the showerhead, his face downcast as his hands braced against the tiled walls, the hot, steamy water running down his muscular back and over his firm backside. All of the Hufflepuff's anger went away instantly at the sight of this vulnerability that the Gryffindor was showing, that he never showed anyone before. The young man who never backed down from a Bludger as it came rocketing toward him, the young man who busied himself with his Quidditch obsession, the young man who held his own against Marcus Flint his very first year, this was who he really was. After a moment of hushed silence, Oliver turned his head around and glared at Cedric with his dark, cold eyes.
These sleeping thoughts won't lie
"Aye, this may be about me winning the Quidditch Cup for my final year," Oliver hissed through his clenched teeth, attempting to keep his anger in check, "This may be about my obsession with Quidditch and how I wanted to shove this victory in Flint's face. But there's one thing that outdoes all of that, Mr. Diggory." He took a few bold steps toward the Seeker, who cautiously stumbled back, "You were the last one who saw Potter before he fell off his broom! You were the one who kept going after he fell! You were the one who neglected to even look back to see what was going on! You just kept going after the Snitch, completely oblivious to everything! Are you that thick? Are you that stupid as to miss something like that? Well, let me tell you something, boy, that's not the only thing you've been missing!"
And all I've tried to hide
Did I just say what I think I did, Oliver queried to himself as a look of shock and fear spilled onto his face as he looked at the Hufflepuff Captain. It had all slipped out; a scolding for short-sightedness had suddenly turned into the confession that he was not ready to give. What did I just do?
The inevitable question came from Cedric's muddy lips, still so plump and beautiful under that filthy mask, "What do you mean, Oliver? What else did I miss?"
His inquisitive voice seemed to convey a mind full of thoughts, of assumed conclusions, of hope. Oliver had tried to turn around and move away from the Seeker, as if doing that would allow him to escape answering the question, but Cedric, his sullied hand clasping the Gryffindor's shoulder, held him in place.
"What is it, Wood?"
It's eating me apart
Millions of thoughts raced through Wood's head as he glanced down at his crush's gloved hand holding his shoulder, What is he doing? I can't tell him 'cause I know he doesn't feel the same way. He's a straight boy, he likes girls, right? Of course he does! He wouldn't bother wasting time on a pathetic loser like me. I can't even win a rainy Quidditch match. Why would he...Looking up from the Seeker's hand, his eyes connected with those beautiful grey orbs he had fallen for in the first place, so warm and full of life behind his luscious muddy hair. A pang caught in Oliver's stomach as one final sentiment passed his mind, It's now or never, boyo.
He leaned his head forward and tilted slightly to the left, his last sight being Cedric's face as he closed his eyes and suddenly pressed his lips against his crush's. Then, he opened his mouth and swept his tongue slowly across the Hufflepuff's bottom lip, as if asking permission for further entry. Cedric conceded and opened his mouth, allowing the Gryffindor to take the kiss to a whole new level. So close to the Seeker's milky skin, Oliver could smell the rainwater that had thoroughly drenched him, and the inexplicably sweet taste of sweat and mud completely filled the Keeper's mind. Then, with a gasp, Cedric broke the kiss. Opening his eyes once more, Oliver came face to face with his former rival's shocked expression.
"I'm sorry, Cedric," the Gryffindor hurriedly apologized, scorning himself for losing control, "It's just that... I, er... You were here... and..." Another river of thoughts flooded his mind, What in Merlin's name have I done? I've kissed Cedric Diggory! He's going to hate me now! He's going to run out of here and tell everyone about that loser pouf, Oliver Wood! People'll stare at me, they'll sneer, they'll say horrible things, and...Suddenly, he felt a reassuring touch as Cedric ran his fingers behind Oliver's left ear.
"Shhhh… It's okay," the Hufflepuff coaxed, a shy smile on his filthy face, asked timidly, "Do you... like me, Oliver?"
Trace this life out
He had figured it out, Oliver thought, a numb look growing on his wet face, Well, of course he did! I just kissed the lad! There's no point hiding it now.
He sighed, his shoulders heaving as he held his crush's gaze before he whispered, "Aye. I've never felt this way about anyone before."
The Keeper continued to breathe heavily, Here it comes. "Sorry, Oliver, I don't like you that way. I'm gonna go back to my common room and snog my girlfriend, so if you'll excuse...
"I like you, too, Oliver."
For the first time, the Gryffindor's mind went completely blank. He muttered, "Wait a minute. What?"
Cedric's face was framed in a huge smile, the white of his teeth shining in contrast to his mucky face, as he repeated, "I like you, too. For a while now… I never thought you would feel the same way."
I'll keep you my dirty little secret
(Dirty little secret)
Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret
(Just another regret)
A swell of relief and giddiness built up inside Oliver as new thoughts came to surface, He likes me back? Cedric Diggory, the pride of Hufflepuff and heartthrob of every girl in Hogwarts, likes me back?
His next thought came to his lips as he blurted out, "Oh, my god!"
Then, the Keeper quickly slipped his arms around Cedric and pulled him in for another kiss, and gasped when his new-found love returned the sentiment. Oliver's right hand, formerly behind the Hufflepuff's neck, moved upward and began to stroke through his wet, light brown hair, evoking a gasp of pleasure from the younger student. That gasp was swallowed into the kiss as the two pushed up against each other, enjoying the other's closeness and body heat. As if to thank his former rival for that one euphoric rush, Cedric lowered his hands and began to slowly massage Oliver's naked back, evoking another moan as the younger man ran his cold, pruny fingers down the elder's spine.
Managing to free his lips from the Gryffindor's embrace, Cedric mumbled, "We should really get back to the castle. People will probably think you've released a Bludger on me."
With reckless abandon, Oliver grabbed Cedric's wrists and forced his robed back against the shower wall, kissing and nipping at the boy's neck. Looking up for one brief moment, he answered, "You're right, but maybe we should clean up first. You're all muddy."
Heartily laughing, Cedric pointed out in his cutest matter-of-fact voice, "You've been kissing me, Mr. Wood. Your's is just as bad."
It was true though, the smeared mud that had coated Diggory's face less than fifteen minutes before had now been transferred, though not completely, to Wood's own dashing visage. With a devilish grin, Cedric continued, "But I wouldn't be against washing my face, if that's what you mean."
Mirroring that same decadent, erotic smirk, Oliver maneuvered the both of them under the stream of the showerhead, and continued kissing his new friend's neck, ending at the collar of his drenched Quidditch robes and then working his way back up. Cedric, groping Oliver's naked body, tensed up with pleasure as he felt a set of teeth gently nip the skin around his throat and gasped as he felt the rough stiffness of the Gryffindor's large member as it rubbed up against the fabric over his thigh, causing his own trousers to become rather tight. Water from the shower rushed over them, dripped through their hair, down their muddy, kissing faces, and all over their bodies, finally dripping onto the red, white, and gold tiled floor before flowing into the drain. Streams of brown water ran from their heads down as the mud slowly began to disintegrate and leave their faces, dissolving the mask between them.
Upon seeing all the grime leave his lover's face, the Keeper ran his rough, calloused hand over the Seeker's bare forehead, smiling at the skin on skin contact before saying, "Well, the mud is off our faces, and I have to get dressed." Pulling away from Cedric, he continued, "Not to mention that if you don't get into dry, clean clothes, you're going to be sick as a dog. So, why don't we head back up to the castle and," while moving his eyes down the Hufflepuff's body, "finish this a bit later."
To respond to that, Cedric leaned forward and gave the Gryffindor a peck on his lips, saying in a cheerful voice, "Okay. I gotta go get my clothes in the Hufflepuff locker room anyway. Meet me out there, 'kay?"
"Okay," Oliver replied with a genuine smile on his face.
Just as his new loverboy turned around, Cedric, his palm stretched, smacked him on his bum, evoking a yelp as the Keeper turned around, his face turning bright red.
The Seeker merely laughed and said, "I'll see you there."
Just as he walked to exit the shower, he noticed the gaping hole in the other side of the room brought on by Oliver's rage and a Bombardment Hex. Sighing a bit, he grabbed his wand and flicked it at the destroyed wall, muttering, "Reparo!"
Instantly, the little tiles and chunks of brick danced into the air and refitted themselves into the hole, until it was good as new. Looking back at Oliver, Cedric huffed with mock annoyance.
Innocently, the Gryffindor replied, "What! A fellow can't get angry?" He suddenly burst out laughing and ran after his new boyfriend, who bolted, commencing a new, frisky game of Naked Cat and Clothed Mouse. Echoing throughout the locker room was the Keeper's voice, shouting in a sing-song fashion, "Cedric, I love you! Cedric, I do! When we're apart, my heart beats only for you!"
I'll keep you my dirty little secret
(Dirty little secret)
Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret
(Just another regret, hope that you can keep it)
Outside the grand locker building, the storm continued to rage.
Back at the castle, in the Great Hall as the students and faculty of Hogwarts were sitting down for dinner, Fred, George, Angelina, Alicia, Katie, Ron, Hermione, and Percy all sat at the Gryffindor table, along with their fellow Lions. All crouched down as to keep their conversation as private as possible, they spoke of the day's past events.
"You know what I heard," Ron said, his flaming red hair falling in his eyes, "I heard that Wood stole that crate from Madam Hooch and let out a Bludger at Diggory. He'll probably be in the hospital wing for a week!"
Fred piped up, "Yeah, maybe he'll be able to keep Harry company."
"Yeah, that is if Harry doesn't kill him for destroying his broom," Angelina added, with a hearty laugh.
Apparently, imagining little Harry Potter trying to kick the snot out of the attractive Cedric Diggory was rather amusing.
Katie Bell, her blonde hair reflecting the candlelight, chimed in, "Would serve him right for what he did to us."
Sighing, Hermione pointed out, "Cedric is not in the hospital wing."
"Oh, really? And just how would you know that, Miss I know everything," Ron asked indignantly.
Pointing over to the Hufflepuff table, she replied, "Because he's right over there eating with Preece and McAvoy."
Turning their heads around, the Gryffindors found that, sure enough, Cedric Diggory, now in his Hogwarts school uniform, was eating with his chasers, Preece and McAvoy. In fact, he looked rather merry.
Then, Hermione added with a pompous grin, "And thank you for that compliment, Ronald." She took even further pleasure as he sank his head onto his plate, brooding at being made a fool of by Hermione Granger, yet again.
"What're you talkin' about, guys?" said a deep voice with a Scottish accent.
The group of them turned again and found Oliver Wood, in his school uniform with his red and gold tie askew at his neck, his eyes wide with surprise and curiosity. He looked rather uncomfortably at all the faces staring at him, "What did I do?"
George began, "What happened after we left, mate? You just hid in the showers… Then we heard that Diggory went in and there was some screamin' goin' on! What happened?"
The rest of them looked on in extreme interest, the question having been on all their minds.
My dirty little secret
Fred added with his twin, "Yeah, did you bludgeon him? Make him cry for his mummy?"
Dirty little secret
Oliver swivelled his head around and looked at Cedric, who locked eyes with him before mouthing, "After dinner, you and me," and flashing that devilish, not-so-good-boy grin.
Dirty little secret
His face red, the Gryffindor Captain returned his gaze to his teammates and shrugged his shoulders, saying, "I guess that's just my dirty, little secret."
Who has to know
Who has to know
-END OF CHAPTER 1-
Author's Note: Hey there, fans! Yes, I'm back for now… Some of you may be wondering why there's no new chapter yet. Very simple… I wrote this story back when I was 17 or 18, and a little naïve in how love works. After reading, I thought to myself, there's a line between writing realistic romance and writing a fantasy. I will always try to write in a more realistic vein because these characters were meant to be portrayed as people, with layers of deep thought, even at the young age characters like Oliver and Cedric are. That in mind and with a few more years of narrative knowhow, I've decided to edit, and, in some cases, rewrite parts of the chapters I have now before I go on to the next chapter (which I do plan on doing for you guys who continue to read my work). Just… be patient, and thank you so much for the dedication some of my readers have given me.