Disclaimer: No ownership whatsoever over the characters and major story line, as they belong rightfully to J.K. Rowling
Note: The themes used are from 31_days at LJ for the month of November
Perhaps Forever & Almost Always
Yet we keep believing
-We're all trapped in a maze of relationships-
"Wait, so he suspected Harry but not me?" Cedric's voice was slightly affronted and the frown on his face showed it. Hermione couldn't resist laughing while Harry had already given in to the hilarity of the situation. "I feel a tad bit insulted."
"You look like it." Hermione said in between her laughter. She gasped and clutched at Harry's arm for support.
"How could he deduce that Harry and you are going out, but not you and me?"
"I suppose the fact that Hermione immediately rushed over to me when we completed the Second Task had something to do with it." Harry answered with a grin. "Come to think of it," he turned to Hermione, "why didn't you go to Cedric?"
"Because Cho Chang and his group of friends were mobbing him in congratulations so I felt I ought to go to you instead and let him have his own moment of glory." Hermione said matter-of-factly.
The Second Task had been recently completed, where the champions had to survive underwater long enough to save the person they would 'sorely miss', as the clue in the egg had sang of. Harry's had been Ron; he had figured just as much it would be either one of his best friends. Cedric's had been Cho Chang, much to the Hufflepuff's surprise although he understood it was probably due to the elder brother-complex he seemed to have around her. However, what amused Hermione so was the fact that both lads had appeared to attempt to save her first before their respective chosen person. "I'm appalled that the both of you thought less of Krum's fancy Quidditch ability. If he could do the Wonky Feint, surely he could swim just as well." Hermione had teased. "Wronski." Both Cedric and Harry corrected her in unison.
Their current topic of conversation stemmed from Harry having had overheard a small group of Durmstrang students talking about their Quidditch idol's apparent notion that Harry and Hermione were supposedly together and was rather devastated by the news, as he passed by them a day before. Harry had it found it the slight bit amusing while Hermione had felt a pang of guilt for the Quidditch World Cup player's apparent feelings that she couldn't return. Cedric however, seemed bothered that he was significantly pushed away in the supposed triangle of a relationship.
"And you couldn't see yourself to be part of that mobbing group?" Cedric raised an eyebrow.
Hermione shrugged, "I don't do well with crowds."
"What a brilliant way to mislead a lad." Cedric said dryly.
Harry chuckled. "Well I don't think Krum would've appreciated the article Rita Skeeter wrote about us either."
"That little conniving reporter," Hermione huffed, "her quotes are audaciously misleading and she's simply turning the Daily Prophet into a tabloid paper instead of the good old news it used to carry in its pages."
"I wonder how she gets her information." Harry said thoughtfully. "It's as if she's just right there at the scene but I don't recall seeing her anywhere near us."
"I don't either." Cedric said, shaking his head. It was bewildering to have every word that left your lips to be reported in the nation's newspaper, even if it was twisted with the added salt and pepper for the extra punch.
"We ought to be extra careful." Hermione's eyebrows knitted together.
"We should get to breakfast before someone sees us and passes another silly idea of an article to Rita Skeeter." Harry got down from the tree branch he had been sitting on. The three of them were by the lake as Harry and Cedric had woken up early that morning for a good-natured flying competition on their brooms. Cedric had just gotten a hold of the Comet 290 prototype, due to release the following year but his grand uncle who was among the broom's crafter chose none other than his grand nephew, whom he knew was well-versed with every broom there is in Quidditch history alongside the obsession of flying, to test the broom. Harry had been eager and more than pleased to test his Firebolt against the new broom. Hermione came along after a round of persuasion from Cedric, and the promise that he wouldn't drag her up on the broom as well.
"I wouldn't mind the publicity so as long as it's good enough to get my rival-in-love to acknowledge the right rival." Cedric joked.
Hermione rolled her eyes but her grin was evident on her features. Harry laughed again. The three of them went into the Great Hall together; Cedric's hand briefly touched Hermione's as they part and made their way to their respective house tables. Hermione felt her smile growing wide with an indescribable feeling of happiness. The simple gestures were always more than enough to raise a stir of emotions within her. His affectionate yet respectful touches and gazes made her feel very much extraordinary in just knowing how much she meant to him. Hermione sat down at the Gryffindor and as soon as she was about to begin eating, the owls swept in and began their daily delivery. To her surprise, a few unknown letters were dropped in front of her alongside her subscription to the Daily Prophet. She picked one up and carefully tore the top to get to the letter. Her eyes widened in surprise of the horrid words that were glaring back at her.
"Who's it from, Hermione?" Ron asked as he took a spoonful of porridge.
She didn't answer him but quickly opened the rest of the letters. They were all the same, if not any more hateful, as the first one. She exhaled sharply. Hermione hoped there wouldn't be a Howler. She didn't think her dignity could stand being shouted and screamed at by a furiously deranged piece of folded sheet. The attention she would get from the Hogwarts' population was bearable, but not the fact that she would be shrieked at by, of all things, a paper.
The next day came along and to her horror; the pile of envelopes that fell onto her plate included two red envelopes. Ron's eyes widened as he swallowed hard. Harry quickly looked at her with a concerned look. Hermione took a deep breath. She carefully pushed the other less glaring colored envelops away. One of the red envelopes flitted up and burst open with its tirade. It took all of Hermione's effort to resist her urge to blast the mad piece of stationery. Harry looked at her apologetically, as her fellow Gryffindors shot her looks of sympathy. The students from the other houses however, watched with interest, some with snicker and silent guffaws – though the Slytherins made no effort in hiding their glee. The professors were thoroughly disturbed as well. From the corner of her eye, she saw Cedric's lips formed a thin line of anger and as he made a move to stand up, she saw his housemate pulling him back down. Hermione felt inwardly glad that Cedric had been prevented from coming over as it wouldn't quite lead to an appropriate resolve of the problem at hand. She looked away to see the second Howler ripped itself just as the first ended and began to screamed its contents at Hermione's face.
The hate mails didn't seem to have an end to them as the days slowly passed and each morning was filled by outrageous accusations without a sense of truth. "Don't open them anymore." Harry said, almost despondently, as the owls come dropping their daily mail for the day. Undoubtedly, the young wizard felt horribly responsible for the bombardment of harsh and hurtful words towards Hermione.
"You know I can't do that, Harry." Hermione answered as she sifted through the letters. As she slid a letter open, a sudden stinging hot sensation greeted her fingertips. A cry escaped her as her hands quickly dropped the envelope.
"Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed.
The thick olive-colored liquid, recognizable to all fourth years and above, dripped from Hermione's fingers and immediate boils began to form on Hermione's hands. She shrieked as they started to form rapidly, stinging at her hands and causing sharp tendrils of horrendous pain every time a boil formed. The tears pooled at Hermione's eyes.
"It's the Bubotuber pus." Neville said with a disapproving frown. The Gryffindor table began in an uproar. It was one thing for a Gryffindor to receive a Howler, but to receive a hate mail in the form of such devious tricks, it was beyond acceptable. Even Fred and George, who always appreciated a tasteful prank, were cursing profanities.
"Bloody hell." Ron glares at the soiled envelope.
"Alright, that's more than enough." Cedric's voice cut across the angry words and exclamations. "Come on, Granger. We're going to the Hospital Wing and you are not going to be anywhere near those horrid letters anymore." He swiftly picked up her bag and books, blatantly ignoring the attention that was on him, and helped her to her feet. Cedric frowned at the sight of her swelling, boil-filled hands. He placed his arm around the Gryffindor witch and gently guided her out the Great Hall. "I'm sure Madam Pomfrey could find some sort of healing method for it. Otherwise, we could ask Professor Sprout." He softly comforted her.
"I didn't think it would come to this." Hermione admitted in a small voice. Ever since the first day of the hate mails' arrival, Cedric had been against her decision to open them, saying that the people can be awfully mean when they make up their minds to, but she determinedly continued anyway. Cedric simply answered her with a gentle kiss on her hair, close to her forehead. She was glad he wasn't about to mention anything along the lines of 'I've told you so.'
"Keep yourself safe – for me." Cedric quietly said.
To their dismay, the Bubotuber pus wasn't quite as easy as they had hoped it would be to get rid of. Madam Pomfrey offered Hermione a choice between having the boils drained naturally or to have them incised. Cedric winced at both options. "Isn't there anything less painful?" He asked hopefully.
"I'm afraid not. Bubotuber boils are messy things to begin with. Whoever sent you these are absolutely detestable." The mediwitch shook her head as she examined Hermione's swollen hands. "I'll get you a warm compressor to place on your hands, that ought to soothe them a bit. I shall see to you getting excused from your classes for the day."
Hermione nodded miserably. Cedric sighed softly and sat himself down next to her on the empty bed. Wordlessly, she dropped her head onto his shoulder.
"I'm sorry I can't do anything much to help." Cedric said.
"Having you here is enough, though I would appreciate it if you could be my hand within this period of my apparent handicap."
"Pleasure to be at your service." Cedric chuckled. He glanced down at her hands again. "You are not going near a single envelope ever again."
"And miss out on any opportunity of discovering a love letter?"
"Your timing for humor is rather off, Granger." Hermione cracked a smile despite the throbbing pain in her hands. "Honestly, this whole Krum-Potter-Granger triangle has gotten beyond control. Did you see Professor McGonagall's face earlier? She was twitching with so much anger that Haden thought she might set her hat on fire."
A brief laugh escaped Hermione. "I don't think anyone sane and sensible would approve of this." Hermione winced as a boil suddenly ruptured. Cedric quickly grabbed a piece of gauze swab from the tin tray nearby and held it close to the wound. "I hate to think there's going to be more of that." She said pointedly as a lone tear fell onto her cheek.
Madam Pomfrey soon returned with a warm compressor and helped Hermione to disinfect each boil that had begun to pop. Cedric quietly sat by Hermione with his arm around her, drawing her close in hopes to at least of her some sort of comfort as the fourth year witch bravely tried not to cry with each piercing pain that shot up at her. She squeezed her eyes shut and leaned her weight on Cedric as Madam Pomfrey carefully inspected the boils.
"I suppose that's the lot of them for now." Madam Pomfrey pulled a long piece of bandage from the front pocket of her white apron and began to gently wrap it around Hermione's hands. "You won't be able to use your hand for now I'm afraid. Try to avoid getting in contact with anything to prevent the boils from being punctured; they will drain on its own soon enough."
"How long will it take to all go away?" Cedric asked.
"Probably less than a week. It's a good thing her hands weren't in contact with the Bubotober pus for too long."
Hermione shuddered visibly at the notion of having her hands swollen with boils for over a week. As she thanked the Mediwitch, Cedric reached for their bags and books. When she turned around to face Cedric again, a sudden thought crossed her mind at the sight of the Hufflepuff.
"Granger? What is it?" Cedric asked with a worried look when he noticed the ashen face of the Gryffindor witch.
"You came to my aid in the Great Hall." Hermione slowly said. She groaned. "I can see the headline for tomorrow – Granger adds third Triwizard Champion in conquest."
Cedric couldn't help but laugh. "Ignore the newspaper, ignore the mails, Granger. You can't possibly expect me to just sit there and let you get hurt by the utter gullibility of the masses."
"But this brings about a whole new dimension to the triangle."
"So we have a square now? Or is it a rectangle?" Cedric answered amusedly as he steered her out of the Hospital Wing.
"Your timing for humor is rather off, Diggory." Hermione said wryly.
-We are like blue flowers trying to live-
"Hermione, just what exactly are you trying to do?" Harry eyes the dark hair witch by his side with a wary look in his brilliant green orbs. He sighs just as her hand around his arm tightens. He grimaces at the tight grip with her fingers almost digging into his flesh.
"Trying to avoid him." Hermione answers distractedly.
"You've been avoiding him since the day after your birthday." Harry says pointedly. "It's more than two weeks now. How long are you planning to avoid him?"
"Until he gets it in his head that his reasoning of trying to get into a relationship he has no recollection of, is absolutely ridiculous." Hermione says as she looks around the wall of Zonko's Joke Shop. "Whatever is taking Ron so long?"
"It's his favorite place." Harry replies as if the single sentence answered all her curiosity on their best friend's apparent attachment to the wizarding joke shop, which it did. Hermione blows a small lock of her hair way from her face in frustration. Cedric Diggory moves from the window of Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, where he had been looking into the window display with his friend, Haden. Hermione immediately turns back, almost slamming into Harry who reflexively take quick steps back to avoid the collision. As Cedric passes them by without noticing them, Hermione sighs. Harry notes her sigh hadn't been just out of relief, but also of despondency. "I don't quite understand why you won't allow him to even talk to you."
It's their first Hogsmeade visit for the school year and with Hermione's persuasion and reasoning, Harry finally decided on teaching Defence Against the Dark Art to their fellow schoolmates, and their first meeting had been the very morning itself. Much to Hermione's surprise, Cedric was among those who turned up – she later found out it had been Lee Jordan who had informed Haden, who in turn, notified Cedric. Throughout the uncomfortable but successful meeting, Hermione had carefully stayed by Harry's side and avoided Cedric's gaze, although the latter was inevitable as she was entrusted to completely convince the few skeptical students of the reasoning of their formation. Harry had almost given up on the idea when a few dubious remarks were passed but Hermione hurried in with rebuttals of rationality to silence their doubts.
"I didn't. We just haven't got any opportunity to speak."
"Certainly not, with how you've been keeping away from him." Harry answers with a hint of sarcasm.
"Just tactfully not crossing my paths with his." Hermione replies. She looks up at Harry. "I'm sorry, you must think I am being a horrible person for giving him the cold shoulder."
Harry couldn't help but feel sorry for the witch in front of him, somewhat understanding her odd logic. It didn't occur to him to ever question her reason of actions, but it didn't mean he wouldn't try to push her out of it. Harry witnessed it himself – Cedric's confused gaze whenever the Gryffindor bookworm suddenly flees whenever their paths were about to meet. He couldn't help but feel torn in between sympathizing for the older lad and accepting Hermione's actions. Harry lifts his hand and gives Hermione a tentative pat on the arm and an encouraging smile. "I suppose you of all people would know exactly what you are doing. Just," he stops and thinks his words for a brief second before continuing, "just remember it's another heart within this situation, not just your own."
Hermione nods and give a small smile. At that moment, Ron happily steps out from Zonko's with Lee, Fred and George. "Nothing could make Ron happier except for food and pranks." Hermione shakes her head amusedly as she looks at the redhead.
"It's time you let yourself to seek for yours again, don't you think?" Harry smiles knowingly and leaves Hermione's side to see what Ron had gotten from the joke shop.
Hermione takes a deep breath, completely understanding Harry's words. She looks down the road and sees the familiar tall Hufflepuff laughing with his group of friends. A small smile curves at her lips when she sees one of her favorite grin crosses at his good looking features. To her surprise, the steel grey eyes suddenly catch her gaze and shifts by a fraction to look at her. Instead of averting her eyes, Hermione boldly keeps her gaze. She watches as his eyebrows furrow by a tad bit and a crease appears in his forehead. Hermione debates going over to him and with her foot just about to take a step forward, Fred's arm suddenly playfully swings around her.
"Come on Hermione, off to a drink at The Three Broomsticks to celebrate the humble beginnings of our illicit association." The Weasleys' twin's voice says merrily.
"Spectacularly said, Fred." George laughs.
With her intentions disrupted, Hermione swiftly turns to the twins with a hiss, "Stop shouting it out at the top of your lungs."
"It's a free broadcast." George winks.
"No cost at all." Fred adds.
Hermione rolls her eyes and the rest of the lads laugh. As Lee pulls Fred away by the latter's shoulders, effectively releasing Hermione from his hold, she looks at the direction she had originally been looking at. Cedric's friends are already up ahead, heading to the bar & inn, but he stays behind with his gaze still on Hermione. He gives her a polite smile and turns away to follow his friends. Hermione feels her heart getting heavy and reluctantly pulls her feet to the very same place.
As they step in the crowded bar, Hermione immediately spots Cedric and his friends at a table at the middle of the room. The only empty table, as luck would have it, is the one beside theirs. Ron immediately makes a beeline for it, Lee, Fred and George following after. Harry gives her a nod at the direction of the empty table and a perceptive look. Hermione squares her shoulders and briskly walks toward the table. Angelina, Katie and Alicia join them at the table, much to her relief. The crowd around her and at her own table ought to prevent any opportunity for a sensible conversation between two people. Hermione also makes it a point to sit on the opposite end of the table.
"Granger, are you actually ignoring me?" His voice sounded mischievous instead of upset as she would have expected it to be after his fifth failed attempt of getting her to look up at him from the book she had been very much engrossed in. The sixth year Hufflepuff, also known as one of the Hogwarts Triwizard champions, had been attempting various ways to get her to look at him, including attempting a silly face by rolling his eyes upwards, nose pushed to mirror a snout, while he grinned wildly. Hermione finally looked up expectantly. He beamed at her cheerfully, "I've got a feeling that the day you actually ignore my existence would be the darkest day of my life." She had laughed it off in response.
Hermione frowns at the memory. She cautiously looks over at Cedric. His face cracks into a grin at a joke Haden is telling but Hermione notes how the mirth in his eyes aren't there as it usually would be. The steel grey orbs seem to lack in the sincere and raw emotions of jollity that Hermione noticed the first time she met the Hufflepuff. Guilt rips at her being with her conscience inwardly snapping at her for unwittingly being the cause of the apparent melancholy wrapped around the seventh year. It sting at her to know her obstinacy was the root of their current situation. She isn't one to lower herself for a lad but to be adamant and hurt a lad is another thing altogether, especially a lad whom she actually cares about very much – memory or not.
A hand reaches out to touch her by the arm and Hermione quickly turns in a defensive reflex. "I'm sorry, but could I have a word with you, Granger?" Cedric asks with a serious look.
Deciding running wouldn't do her any good as he would probably either chase after her, or Harry and Ron might just trip her in the midst of her escape just to get her to talk to the Hufflepuff, Hermione nods and gets up to follow Cedric out of the noisy place. None of their friends acknowledge their leave, knowing full well what it concerned.
"I'm sorry."
Hermione looks at Cedric with amused eyes as he chuckles at their sudden harmony of words. "You should go first." Cedric offers.
Hermione takes a deep breath, her gaze leaving Cedric for a few seconds to the ground underneath them before looking at him again. She feels the chill of the coming winter air nipping at her cheeks. Hermione consciously brings her arms together for warmth. She notes Cedric's usually healthy features are paler than usual with hints of red flush from the cold. Without a second thought, she pulls the knitted scarf around her neck and brings herself closer to Cedric before pulling it over his neck. "Here, you should have this." She says simply and takes a step back without tying the scarf, slightly anxious to have too close of a physical contact with the Quidditch Captain & Seeker.
"Thanks, Granger."
"I feel awfully terrible for the way I've been avoiding you," Hermione begins, her forehead creases in disgruntled lines, "I didn't quite know what to make out of it and I thought perhaps the time away from me would do you some good."
"It caused quite the opposite effect." Cedric gives her a half-smirk. Hermione winces apologetically. Cedric begins to walk down the path leading to the Shrieking Shack and Hermione willingly follows beside him. "Granger, is it really a bad thing if I'd like to try at this relationship we used to have?"
"It's something of the past that you could possibly go without."
"I doubt we were unhappy together." He looks at her curiously.
Hermione smiles and shakes her head, unable to lie. "No, we weren't. We had a few rough patches but somehow things always end up alright between us."
"You do realize that your words had just diminished the significance of your earlier words, don't you?"
Hermione turns to look at Cedric, "Perhaps it wasn't quite meant to be any longer than it should." Her voice is analytical and solemn as she continues, "Perhaps that was why this particular memory of yours wasn't kept in the retentive storage of your brain."
Cedric laughs lightly. "A feasible reasoning, I reckon. But have you ever thought the other way around?" Hermione raises a questioning eyebrow. "That perhaps it could be a self-defense mechanism to protect what's important to me." Cedric answers thoughtfully.
"I never thought of that." Hermione admits.
"Sometimes, maybe it's the way you choose to look at something that it tends to blind you with the other optimistic alternative." Cedric says with a shrug. He quickens his steps and stops by a small patch of flowers, almost withering out for the ending autumn days. A small flower with all its petals intact is the only one among the rest who still stands bravely in the cold air.
"It's about to wither soon." Hermione comments when she catches sight of the little flower.
"Yet it hasn't. It's still giving all it's got to bloom and feel the sunshine before simply giving up and let itself to fade into remnants of its beauty."
Hermione crouches down next to Cedric. "Are you trying to tell me something? I would appreciate a direct approach instead of beating around the bush." Her lips twitch in a smile.
Cedric grins. "Be like the flower, Granger – bold and daring to take the chance?"
"And if I did, it's possible I might wither away."
"You're much stronger than that. I reckon it will take you more than just the cold winter to get you off your roots."
"Are you complimenting me?" Hermione's brown eyes twinkle in amusement.
"Well, girls do often like being seen as similarity to a flower consequently I can't help but make the same association for you."
Hermione laughs. "You compared me to its foundation, not its beauty as most would do so in a rightful imagery."
"That doesn't quite fit the requirements of a compliment then?" Cedric playfully feigns ignorance as he stands up.
"Absolutely not." Hermione laughs again. "You are simply awful at giving compliments, Diggory."
"I'm positively sure that isn't one of the reasons why you decided to go out with me."
"Brilliant deduction." Hermione answers with a deadpanned look. Cedric laughs. She turns to look at him, feeling the recognizable emotion of gentle affection like a familiar lullaby she had always loved, rushing through her being.
"Granger, try not to run away?" She looks at him dubiously. Cedric answers her with a tentative reach of his fingers to her left hand that's at her sides. The warmth of his fingers immediately seeps through her and they slowly intertwine themselves around her own fingers. His gaze lifts from their intertwined fingers to meet her brown orbs. "I've seen myself without you for two weeks and it's nothing worth of my being awake and alive." Hermione keeps silent. "You are someone worth remembering, and that goes the same for our memories." He quietly says with a small smile.
