"To him that you tell your secret you resign your liberty." -Anonymous

Halloween had arrived with a flourish at Hogwarts. You would think that real wizards and witches would not buy into a holiday that had been making them into frauds in the Muggle world for decades. Apparently, those wizards and witches didn't receive this memo, because never before had the day been such a big deal. I was fairly confident that my fellow classmates hadn't been nearly as spirited about it during my other years at school. It seemed that ever since the end of the war people had been just itching for any reason whatsoever to have a little fun. What better than the night of the dead, right? As if there weren't enough ghosts in the castle already.

The school was covered with magnificent decorations in every corner. Jack-o-lanterns and black candles hovered in the Great Hall and skeletons were charmed to hand out sweets to the first and second years, and, apparently, Ron and Harry. Hagrid had even let loose a thousand live bats in the corridors, much to the dismay of the faculty and a few terrified students. This, along with the heaping amounts of cobwebs that you needed to brush aside to get anywhere, just fueled the excitement. I had never quite appreciated Halloween, but even I had to say that it brought people together rather remarkably, if nothing else.

"It's such a shame that McGonagall passed on the idea of a Halloween Ball," Ginny grumbled, stabbing a sausage link with more force than necessary on the morning of the holiday.

"Oh yeah, I haven't felt this disappointed in my entire life," Ron said dramatically, causing Harry and I to laugh. The three of us weren't really all that social, having had enough time in the spotlight since the end of the war. An extremely populated party didn't sound appealing from any angle that you looked at it. That being said, I didn't feel too bad that it had been Ron and myself who had fought so strongly against the notion to begin with. Being Head Girl really did have its perks.

"You could at least pretend you like, you know, people," Ginny snapped, glaring at her brother with a hatred that could only be for a sibling. A special hatred, if you will.

"I like people," Ron grinned, "Just not you."

"It's alright, love, you'll always have me," Harry said, smiling as he waggled his eyebrows suggestively at his girlfriend.

"Goody," Ginny deadpanned, "I'm so lucky, it continues to astound me."

I nodded my head sympathetically, "Sometimes I don't know who the bigger idiots are. Us, for actually dating them, or them . . . in general."

Harry and Ron gave simultaneous objections while Ginny and I laughed merrily at their expense. It felt extremely comforting to be happy together again. These were the people who understood what I had gone through during Voldemort's reign of terror better than any others. These were the people whom I had pressed my ear against the kitchen door at Grimmuald Place with in an attempt to hear the latest news of the fight. And later, I had fought beside them in the bloodiest battle since the early Goblin wars. The idea of the four of us no longer being together hurt more than words could describe. I would do everything in my power to prevent that from ever happening. If I had it my way, we would never drift apart and I'd always be their friend.

"Well, if you really feel that way maybe we should stop seeing each other," Ron said, his arm wrapping around my waist as he rested his forehead on the top of my head and whispered into my ear.

I smiled, brushing back his fringe, "If only it was that easy."

His chuckle reverberated through my body, but I couldn't help but think of the truth to those words. If only . . .

"If you keep your face like that for any longer, it may stay like that forever," Theo said teasingly, coming up behind me and leaning backwards on my table with his arms crossed over his chest.

"What, beautiful and rosy?" I asked, looking up at him through the wisps of hair that had fallen into my face while I was working.

"No, all scrunched up in concentration," he said, reaching a hand out to pluck my quill from my grasp, "You need to stop working so much."

"Says the boy who finishes his essays weeks in advance."

"Says the girl who works with me on said essays," he chuckled, jokingly holding a hand out as if for a handshake, "Hello Pot, I'm Kettle."

I slapped his hand away with a laugh, "Is there any reason -besides simple amusement on your part- for you to come find me in the library just to annoy me?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," Theo said, clapping his hands in front of my face twice in order to regain my attention when I made the mistake of picking up my quill again and continuing where I had left off, "No, it's Theo time right now, Hermione."

"Okay," I sighed, stopping what I had been doing again and turning to face him with my hands folded in my lap, "You have my undivided attention, Princess Nott."

"How dare you! You know that when I don't have my tiara on I like to be treated as a mere peasant like yourself," he cried melodramatically, "To the gallows with you!"

"You're completely hopeless," I muttered, shaking my head and standing up to gather all of my books and supplies.

"Oh good, so does this mean you'll come with me?" Theo asked, watching as I picked up my bag and shouldered it.

I turned around to look at him, "You never asked me to go anywhere."

"That's because I was just about to, before you so rudely called me a princess. I prefer 'Thou who is holier than I,' by the way."

"Where do you want me to go?" I asked, dismissing his antics with a scoff.

"Well, Draco and Blaise-"

"Absolutely not."

"But," he defended, trailing after me as I began to practically sprint away from him, "What else do you have to do tonight? Why won't you give them a chance?"

"Why won't you give Ron and Harry a chance?"

"I already told you I'd hang out with Potter if you wanted me to."

I spun around to face him expectantly, "And Ron?"

"Well, let's not push it," he said, smiling crookedly down at me.

"I don't understand you."

"Few do."

"I won't willingly subject myself to Draco Malfoy's tormenting when there are other, more important, things to be done," I said, raising my head to look him directly in the eyes.

Theo crossed his arms, "We'll see."

Quidditch is a completely ridiculous sport. If someone were to fall off their broom from the heights that the players flew at, the chances of them surviving were roughly equal to that of someone getting hit by lightening twice in one lifetime. And that may even be pushing it when you factor in the speed at which the player was flying before plummeting to the ground. Surely there has to be something better to do than take such risks. Like, play tea-party with one of Hagrid's blast-ended skrewts? Or, poke yourself repeatedly in the eyeball with a needle?

"You can look now, Hermione," Neville laughed, nudging my shoulder in an effort to coerce me from my position with my head ducked into his chest and my glove-clad hands over my eyes.

"I'm never going to get used to this," I mumbled, peeking up into the early November sky where I could see Ron returning to his position in front of the goalpost. This was a good sign, being that the last time I'd checked he'd been rapidly losing altitude after being hit brutally in the shoulder by a Bludger.

"He's fine," Neville said, pointing up to Ron as if I hadn't already been watching him with eagle eyes, "He isn't even bleeding this time."

I grimaced, looking down again as Ginny only just got out of the way of a cunning attack by a Chaser on the Slytherin team, "I think I'm going to get going."

"Aw, c'mon," Neville said, looking away from the game only briefly enough to give me a disapproving glance, "It's not nearly as bad as the last match. And besides, you know how Harry and Ron get when you don't watch them play."

"So, just tell me all the highlights when it's over. Just enough to get them to think I was here the entire time," I said, trying as hard as I could not to downright beg, "They know I barely watch, even when I'm actually here."

"It's not going to work," he sighed, shaking his head in a way that told me he'd do it anyway.

"Thanks, Neville," I smiled gratefully, patting his arm twice before dodging through the surrounding crowd in an effort to get as far away from the game as possible. Merlin did I hate Quidditch.

The voice of the 6th year boy, Geoffrey Cordell, who was announcing the game, drifted off as I got further and further away from the field. When I finally could no longer hear it at all, I gradually slowed my pace. However, it wasn't until I was passing through the Grand Entrance of the castle that I stopped and took a breath.

My whole body seemed to relax in relief at being away from all the chaos. I was never going to actually like to watch the game which my best friends all lived for. It was just one of those things that you had to learn to live with, but not enjoy a second of.

I slowly unraveled my scarf from around my neck as I began to walk in the direction of the kitchen. I needed tea. Loads of it. I had been feeling terrible all of the time lately. Maybe it was stress or simple sleep-deprivation. After all, I hadn't gotten a peaceful night of sleep in weeks. I was plagued with dream after dream filled with decisions, guilt and a certain man that I shouldn't be thinking about at all, never mind dreaming of in delicious situations.

The sad part was that when I woke up, all that I was left with was the decisions and guilt. No delicious situations. And I really shouldn't be upset about it, but every single time I saw Cedric Diggory, one scene or another would pop into my head from our latest dreamland escapade and I would flush so much that I would feel myself growing feverish. I knew it was only in my head; yet, I still felt the whisper of his caress on my cheek or the back of my neck. It was driving me insane, and it wasn't even real! His touch was false. And yet, how did it still far outshine Ron's true, real feel?

My sigh seemed to echo off of the corridor walls around me as I descended the stairs toward my destination. Everyone was out watching the game. I wouldn't be surprised if I was the only one in the school, besides the elves. My hands twisted my scarf absently as I turned a corner and found the portrait that hid the kitchen's entrance. I was just reaching a hand out to tickle the proper fruit to gain access, when I heard the sound of my name.

Thrown off guard, I spun around quickly and looked down the short corridor to the culprit. Figures. "Are you stalking me or something?" I asked.

"'Course not," Cedric laughed, "I'm just incredibly lucky."

I sniffed in response.

"You dropped your scarf," he said, walking up to me and leaning down to pick up the cloth. I hadn't even noticed it was no longer in my grasp.

"That's what happens when you sneak up on someone and scare them half to death," I said, watching as he straightened back up to his towering height.

"You drop things?" he asked, smirking adorably and holding the scarf out for me to take. "I disagree. A normal person would have jumped or screamed. Not just stood there, staring, and then, only after seeing who the person was, dropping something."

I embarrassingly blushed, "That's not what happened."

"Really?" he asked disbelievingly, looking down at my hand when I cautiously tried to grab my scarf from him without making any actual skin-to-skin contact, "Well, I guess it was just wishful thinking on my part, then."

"I guess so," I said.

"You know, if you didn't want to touch me it's fine," he said, sounding like he was moments away from outright snickering, "But, I should tell you that your efforts are unfortunately wasted. I mean, you're wearing gloves."

Startled, I looked down at my hands again as if finally seeing. He was right. Here I was, trying to play surgeon as I extracted my belonging from his hands, when I really didn't have to worry after all. How utterly mortifying. "I didn't. I mean-"

"No, its fine, Granger," Cedric smiled, "It's really a compliment to me that I make you so nervous."

"You do not make me nervous," I defended, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Really?" he asked, sounding as if he'd more likely accept that I had ditched Ron in favor of Professor Flitwick.

"Yes," I said, nodding my head stiffly, "As a matter of fact, I'm sick."

"You don't say."

"I do. It's quite bad actually."

"Fatal?"

"Possibly so. But, even worse, it's contagious. If I were to accidently touch you, who knows what will happen!"

"By George, let us put you in a bubble to save all of civilization."

His eyes were positively dancing in amusement and a full-fledged smile lit his face. He knew I was lying and I knew I was lying, so it was completely idiotic to keep lying. There was no ground to gain by doing so. Even if I did immensely enjoy seeing him so entertained, regardless of it only being at my expense.

Sighing heavily, I spun away from him. I was determined to not let him know that he had an affect on me. The last thing I needed was for Cedric to realize that I dreamt of being with him or that I all but swooned at the sight of his smile. Even that devilish smirk of his always made my stomach drop in a delightful, yet taboo, sort of way. I had come down here for tea, and only tea. What was I doing? Merlin, I needed to get my mind out of the fog.

Unfortunately, he followed me into the kitchen after the portrait swung open. I tried desperately to ignore him, choosing instead to focus solely on the swarm of house elves whom were launching themselves at me in an eagerness to please. It had taken years for me to finally realize that they were happy serving others. I still was uncomfortable with it, though. Often going as far as debating with them in my effort to help make something or another, instead of them doing all the work as I sat down and waited.

"What can we's be getting the missus?" An elf by the name of Durby asked, pulling lightly on the bottom of my skirt in order to gather my complete attention.

"Just a cup of tea, please," I smiled, leaning down a bit so that I could look the creature directly in the eyes. "With a dab of sugar, if it's alright."

"'Course Missus. Durby will be getting that for the Missus right away," Durby stammered, blinking his eyes as if not believing what I had said. It really was extraordinary how a simple "please" could baffle them so.

"Thank you, Durby," I smiled, leaning back up to my full, yet unremarkable, height as he scurried off to get the tea.

"I missed that," Cedric said, causing me to turn my head to look at him for a second before facing forward again.

"What?"

"That whole spew thing that you started back in your fourth year."

"It's S.P.E.W.," I said through gritted teeth. Really, was it that hard to comprehend? "Not spew."

"Sorry," he replied, sounding anything but it as he chuckled.

Sometimes it sounded like he was deliberately saying things like that just to get a rise out of me. Now that I thought back to it, I remember him actually being the only person to say the organization's name correctly when I had created it. Hmm.

"Was there a reason for you to follow me here?" I asked angrily, striding over to the perfect replica of the Gryffindor table that was located directly beneath the actual one. I unceremoniously plopped onto the bench, obstinately refusing to look over at Cedric as I felt him slide onto the bench at my right.

"I didn't follow you down here, if that's what you think," he said patiently, "My dormitory is a short bit away from the Hufflepuff common room. I live down here, and I happened, by chance, upon you. Or, maybe it was fate."

"Fate?" I laughed, still staring directly ahead of me. I didn't believe in fate. Fate and destiny and all of that rubbish was a simple scapegoat which weak people used in order to take the blame off of themselves. It was just another hoax, like Divination. "Please."

"Ah, you don't believe in it," he said matter-of-factly, "I should have known as much. Logical people are usually lacking in a bit of imagination."

Offended, I turned my head to glare at him, "My imagination is perfectly fine, thank you very much. If you're going to sit there and insult me, I'll just be leaving."

I was going to, too. I was even bracing my palms on the surface of the table in order to stand. Stupid Cedric Diggory was not going to annoy me any longer . . . well, at least not until Durby showed up with my tea. Bugger my manners. The poor elf had gone out of his way to make it for me, so I couldn't just up and leave. It'd hurt his feelings.

"Heres you go, Missus," he said, smiling broadly up at me with those big, adorable eyes.

"Thank you so much, Durby," I said, smiling as genuinely as I could as I settled myself back down in my seat and took the mug into my hands. Durby bowed his head before running off again, leaving me helpless.

"See, fate," Cedric laughed, looking over at me as he leaned his head against his fist as his elbow rested on the table. It was rather unnerving how intensely he watched me sometimes. "If Durby hadn't chose that exact moment to arrive with the tea, you'd be out the door by now."

"It was by chance. Not some preordained map created by a heavenly body," I said, rolling my eyes before taking a sip from the mug.

"I don't believe in chance," he said, "I believe that everything happens for a reason. That there's always a big picture for every little thing that we do."

"Well, I believe that we always have a choice. That every decision and action is on our shoulders and no one else's. We choose what we want to get out of life, what we want to do and-"

"And who we want to be with?" he added, raising an eyebrow at me as I looked over at him with wide eyes before nodding.

"Yes."

"What if you did have a choice?" Cedric whispered, looking down at the table, "But, you made your choices based on something that was bigger than yourself. So, it was a mixture of chance and fate. Like, you made a decision to be with someone based on a future that you were heading towards but that was unclear until those choices were made."

"That doesn't make sense," I said, staring at him as if captivated. Which, I was. He was wearing that look that had caught my interest so many weeks ago. That calculating, frustrated look in his eyes that made his forehead wrinkle in concentration and his lips part just the tiniest of bits. It was beautiful, really.

"Sure it does," he said, smiling wistfully to himself as if imagining something that I couldn't begin to, "There's a path preordained for everyone to take; however, the path isn't set in stone. Say, someone is fated to have the most passionate love that the world has ever seen . . . but the person whom they are to share that passion with hasn't been decided yet. It's a mixture of choice and destiny. That person still has the power to choose their lover."

I didn't say anything for a long moment. Long enough to draw his attention away from the table and back to me. His eyes were dark with some unknown need as he stared at me. Maybe he was right, maybe it was a mixture of both. But, maybe that was even worse than having all the choices made for you. After all, who wanted to be a jester when they had the chance to be king?

"Can I ask you something?" he whispered, not breaking eye contact.

I nodded.

"Do you feel even a little bit, for me, of what I feel for you?"

My breath caught in my throat. Lie, I thought. Tell him he's nothing to you. Tell him that you're in love with Ron and that even if fate didn't bring you together, Ron is who you belong with.

"Yes," I replied, pushing those thoughts aside. I had been thinking it for so long now that I needed to get it out. I was never good at keeping my secrets, always telling Harry and Ron something just to have someone else know. It was awful to keep something bottle up inside you when you so desperately wanted to just tell it to get that weight off your shoulders. However, the problem with telling your secrets was giving the reins over to someone else. Because, depending on the weight of the secret, the person whom you told could be your downfall. And in terms of this particular secret, I had a feeling that Cedric was going to be just that.

The beginning of the end.

But, of what?

AN: So, how was it? I know, I know. It took forever for me to post it. I'm so sorry! I have a confession, though. It was actually up on my livejournal page for over a week, completely finished. I just kept on forgetting, with my scatterminded brain and all, to post it here. Again, I'm sorry! Anyway, be sure to leave a comment :D How'd you like the deep conversation she had with Cedric?