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
And of bliss in a safe haven
-And may tomorrow be wonderful too-
Cedric wonders if the warmth he had felt in his hand the night before had been a dream or a fragment of reality. He opens his eyes and turns to his right to see Haden sound asleep in the bed next to his. The seventh year turns to his left to catch a glimpse at the clock on his bedside table. An hour to breakfast, two hours to classes. He sighs quietly before pushing himself off the bed with sleep still lingering within him. At the prefects' bathroom, Cedric stares at the reflection at the mirror. The messy haired boy with grey eyes, eyes that were once stunned into fear and darkness, and pale skin looks back at him. The reflection however, has his lips curve in a smile – almost goofy-looking, Cedric decides. He runs a hand through his dark hair only to mess it up with ruffled tufts. Taking a deep breath, Cedric turns around to the large bath tub and reminds himself to keep his heartbeat in check lest it decides to go over its limit with the mix of anxiety and exhilaration bubbling from within him.
As he heads down to the Great Hall, in a clean and crisp shirt and dark long pants, alongside his school robe over the attire, his black shoes make a sharp, clear sound against the concrete. Cedric bites at the edge of his lower lip, mentally scolding himself for suddenly feeling awkward. Haden had commented, just as Cedric was about to leave the dormitory, that the latter looked incredibly charming for the day – with much dripping sarcasm and laughter. Cedric looks away from a bunch of giggling second years who greeted him with shy waves – to which he responded with a smile and a nod of greeting, to see Hermione Granger walking from the opposite end of him. The smile tugs at his lips, deepening the slight crease at his lower cheek and the steel grey orbs brightens in warmth and anticipation.
"Granger." He hears himself calling out to her in a steady and confident voice. Cedric is amazed that his voice isn't betraying the storm of trepidation and flashes of indescribable bliss within him. He had almost expected his voice to come out in, Merlin forbid, a childish squeak. Cedric watches as her brown eyes lift their gaze to him and almost immediately, lights up with a familiar glow within them.
"Good morning." She beams.
"Had a good sleep?"
"Splendid." Hermione laughs. "Are you alright? You seem a little tense."
"Really?"
"You are actually fidgeting with the cuffs of your robe." Hermione nods to the direction of his right sleeve. Cedric's fingers immediately pull themselves away.
"I wasn't paying attention." Cedric says with a sheepish grin. He notes the thin line of contemplation on Hermione's lips. "What is it, Granger?"
"Would you mind if I was to come any closer?"
"I suppose not." Cedric answer curiously.
Hermione bashfully takes a step forward and within a few seconds, closes the distance between them. Cedric watches her in surprise as her hands reach for the front of his shirt. "Your tie is in a distorted manner." She explains softly without looking at him. Her fingers deftly and gently unknots the tie before pulling it again to a new and neater cross of the fabric. The fifth year witch feels Cedric's warm breath so close to her and the scent that is familiarly his, reaching her senses and causing a stir of feelings within her. She tells herself to concentrate at the task at hand instead of how pleasant Cedric's scent is, or the smile at his lips which she could see from the corner of her eye, or the broadness of his shoulder with his Quidditch-trained physique. At the final knot, she tightens it carefully and pulls it up neatly to the collar of Cedric's shirt. Hermione gives it a short pat of satisfaction before taking a step backwards. Cedric smiles at her with thanks. "You're very much welcome." Hermione answers knowingly. She quickly takes another step back, reminding herself to breathe.
"Are you alright, Granger?" Cedric's voice is almost teasing.
Hermione finds herself momentarily at loss for words. She couldn't possibly tell the Hufflepuff that she was almost enthralled by him. "I'm fine. Are you hungry? Shall we get to breakfast? Classes would begin soon and you wouldn't want to go to in with an empty stomach. We should go in before the food finishes. I'm sure you are famished." Hermione rambles, almost tempted to slap her hand to her mouth to shut it before she could continue with further inane ramblings.
Cedric chuckles good-naturedly and nods. Inside, he's glad to realize the nervousness hadn't been a feeling for just one. He takes a deep breath and quietly reaches for her left hand as he falls into step beside her. Cedric hears a sudden sharp intake of breath from the Gryffindor when his fingers touch hers. Just as he thinks he should pull away, he feels her fingers delving further, entangling with his in a gentle and almost playful manner. Cedric smiles. Without looking at the young witch beside him, he knows a similar smile is etched on her face. Together, the pair walks in the Great Hall with their intertwine hands between them. A silent hush befalls the students in the hall before a steady flow of whispers and chatters come by, alongside with approving and consenting smiles from the faces of their friends. Cedric walks Hermione to the Gryffindor table; his hand lingers within hers for a moment before it pulls away in slight regret of the missing warmth and takes his leave – the smile still on his lips.
Throughout breakfast, they exchange smiles and gazes – be it intentional or otherwise. Regardless, every time grey eyes meet brown ones and vice versa, their lips would tug upwards in amusement. When Hermione finally stands up to leave with Harry and Ron, Cedric immediately shoots up from his seat – much to Haden's hilarity before the latter obliges and follows his friend, and together, the five make their way to their first class together. Cedric and Hermione walk beside each other, their fingers finding each other's as the group falls into a conversation about the upcoming Quidditch match. Ron proudly proclaims Gryffindor will take the Quidditch Cup, regardless, while Cedric refutes it with a friendly challenge. Harry immediately jumps in with a not so nonchalant, and rather confident, remark that the Gryffindors are ready for a challenge any given time. Hermione shakes her head almost exasperatedly and terms them as "absolute Quidditch loons". The boys laugh as Ron answers an affirmative to her statement – "awfully proud to be one, really." When they reach the Golden Trio's classroom for History of Magic, the Hufflepuffs bid them goodbye – Cedric gives Hermione a gentle squeeze of affection before letting go of her hand.
They meet again upon the end of Cedric's last of classes for the day where Hermione waits for him outside his Charms classroom, seeing as Professor Flitwick's class went fifteen minutes extra.
"Well, I suppose I should take my leave now. A lad can take a hint when it shows up in his face." Haden smirks knowingly as he steps out the classroom with Cedric. Hermione gives him a nonchalant smile as she's already familiar with the Hufflepuff's good-natured teasing.
"You're not coming for our Quiddtich practice?" Cedric asks.
"I think Granger would be able to cover my share of enthusiastic support for the great Hufflepuff Seeker." Cedric gives a playful shove at Haden as the latter grins wolfishly.
Hermione almost flushes at Haden's words but composes herself quickly. "I don't do uncultured yelling and sprouting of profanities as well as you do, Whitlock."
Cedric laughs. Haden shakes his head in a mixture of amusement and exasperation, "Always with a witty comeback, Granger."
"I aim to please."
"And you never fail." Haden answers dryly but the smile on his boyish features shows no sign of annoyance.
"As much as I enjoy the banter between the both of you, I have got to be at the Quiddtich pitch in ten minutes."
Haden turns to Cedric with an exaggerated sigh, "Must you always be thinking of Quidditch?"
"When I am the Captain of my house team, why yes Whitlock." Cedric replies as he reaches for Hermione's hand. "Are you coming or not? I haven't got time for your grandmother-like antics."
"You did not just say I'm ancient." Haden narrows his gaze. Hermione laughs.
Cedric shakes his head. "Grandmothers can be as young as fifty." Haden's jaw drops. "Stop pouting and come along."
"Fifty isn't any better you twat."
"You are hitting twenty in three years. Thirty years or so makes no difference." Cedric answers with a conspiratorial grin at Hermione.
"Insufferable prat." Haden mutters. Hermione laughs again, enjoying the childish banter between the two Hufflepuffs. Cedric looks at her with mirth in his eyes as his hand wraps around hers. Haden falls into step beside Hermione, and despite with her being in between them, continues to dispute the aging topic which apparently, hits a sensitive spot with the hazel eyed lad. Occasionally, Haden would reach out to smack Cedric back in the head, causing the Quidditch Seeker to reflexively retaliate in good humor, though Hermione, more than often, finds herself ducking and avoiding because both boys apparently have no sense of an accurate aim when it comes to each other. Their humorous war of words continues all the way to the Quiddtich pitch until Cedric leaves to change. Hermione duly drags herself up the stands and Haden follows after.
"I reckon Cedric looks much better than he did before, don't you think so?" Haden says conversationally as he looks out to the pitch where the Hufflepuff Quidditch team is beginning to gather.
"Did he – was it awful previously?"
"Try halfway deranged."
"I'm sorry."
Haden looks to her with a smile, "Don't be. You had your reasons I'm sure." He looks at the pitch again as the whistle blows. "He did take it badly but he also understood what you were going through. It's tough but I reckon it served to strengthen what exists for the both of you, doesn't it?" Hermione nods slowly. "I can tell you one thing though."
"What is it?" She asks with bated breath.
"He's never going to make it without you." Haden answers simply. "Honestly, Granger. I've known the lad for years and his attraction to you is inconceivable and possibly, irrevocable. He is absolutely drawn to you, even when his memory failed him – it was undeniable for him on how much he just wanted to be with you."
"Are you trying to imply that you will hex me if I was to hurt him again?"
Haden grins, his dark hazel eyes twinkle in mischief, "You're certainly the smartest witch of your age." Hermione laughs. The Hufflepuff good-naturedly swings his arm around her shoulders. "I awfully do like you, Granger."
"Is that a confession of some sort?" Hermione smirks.
"Oy. Whitlock! Hands off mate!" One of the Hufflepuff Chasers barks out with a laugh.
"Unless you don't need your hands anymore, Cedric would be pleased to have them vanished into oblivion." The team's Keeper, Alden, adds with a grin at Cedric. Cedric merely laughs. The seventh year wizard catches Hermione's gaze and he grins at her as if to let her know he's alright with her closeness to his best friend.
In fact, Cedric knows how much Haden approves of Hermione – after all, the latter was the one who had urged him to "bloody tell of that motion-inducing feeling of love". Cedric had been hesitant to confess of his feelings, unsure of the Gryffindor witch's feelings as he knew he had a line of lads to fight off for said girl's heart.
Although Harry and Ron were only on friendship basis with her, there wasn't any prove to say their constant protectiveness and companionship were merely platonic without the slightest bit of attraction. Viktor of course, had made his attraction completely clear. Then there were the other Gryffindor lads who probably spent more time in her presence than Cedric had been able to. He understood she had choices and he may not necessarily be her decision. It was nothing about the lack of confidence or anything of that sort, but the mere humbleness of the Hufflepuff that he didn't dare placed too much hope on a reciprocation of his feelings.
In truth, Cedric didn't quite notice his feelings for the Gryffindor until the early December of his sixth year, a short few weeks to the Yule Ball. He had been intrigued by the young witch ever since he first met her at the World Cup. She didn't blush or stammer, or talk oddly – and she didn't seem to sound breathlessly faint which Cedric noted with amusement that most girls seemed to have whenever they talked to him. Her dark eyes were confident and assured, clever yet skeptical. Upon their return to Hogwarts, he had been pleased to know he'd be able to see her again as he found himself thoroughly curious by the Gryffindor. Cedric wondered of the books she read, if she tied her hair in ponytail or a French braid, her most despised subject – surely she had one, he reasoned, and most of all, he looked forward to simply being in her presence.
When she had slowly pulled away from their friendship upon the entire school's mixed reaction to Harry's name for the participation of the Triwizard Cup alongside his own, Cedric had been utterly confused and slightly annoyed to lose a friendship within such silly reasons. Hence his defiance to his fellow peers' thoughts and opinions. He had yet to realize it was because of his growing attachment to the fourth year Gryffindor, and simply assumed it was because of a friendship he would hate to lose.
It wasn't only upon one day in the library, at their usual table, did he realize the warm feelings he had within him wasn't just platonic, but a strong affection and attraction to the dark haired witch sitting beside him. Hermione had been reading a book for Herbology when her hand moved and brushed against Cedric's before it absently started to tap their fingers on the back of his hand.
He had playfully captured her fingers within his and didn't let go even when she tugged at it. She had looked up with knitted eyebrows and a mock scowl on her lips, and Cedric had laughed. Seeing his apparent perseverance with her fingers, she turned her attention back to her book and allowed him to do as he pleased. It was at that very moment, when he intertwined, tugged, meddled, tickled, tangled, their fingers together did he noticed how much he enjoyed having her hand in his as they seem to fit perfectly with one another's, gloved in shared warmth. The steady rhythmic beating of his heart felt so much at ease yet elated at the feeling of having her beside him. He had quietly looked at her and smiled to himself, understanding for the very first time, the feeling of being in love.
Haden Whitlock, after weeks of enduring his best friend's silent lamenting, finally threatened to hurl a cauldron of boiling potion at Cedric if the latter didn't came forth with the truth. The former had only been more than pleased to assure his best friend that when it came to looks, possibly the brains and quite likely the height, Cedric would definitely win points – though the latter trait earned Haden a raised eyebrow that silently questioned of his intelligence.
When the Hufflepuff Quiddtich team's practice ends, Haden goes down to the changing room to begin his ribbing on the team –a habit he has picked up since Cedric became Captain just so he could irritate said Captain, while Hermione stays at the stands, content with her book. Almost quarter of an hour passes before Hermione suddenly looks up from her book when a drop of water falls onto her page. She quickly gazes upward to the sky and notices the impending cumulonimbus clouds coming right over the grounds of Hogwarts. Another drop falls on her forehead before it slowly trickles down to her nose. An amused chuckle escapes her at the feeling. The Gryffindor closes her book and begins to slot it into her bag when the rain suddenly begins with heavy thuds of water. Hermione winces and quickly picks up her bag before hurrying down the stands.
As soon as she reaches the pitch however, the rain seems to have stop and the cold, wet splashes seem to have cease their impact on her skin. She looks up to see a blue nylon fabric over her head. Surprised, Hermione turns around to see Cedric smiling, underneath the rain with the umbrella in his hand shading her instead. "Take this, Granger. I'll see you in the castle later." Cedric's voice is almost muted by the loud drumming of the rain around them.
"You are all wet. You should get in here!" Hermione exclaims.
"If I did, you'd be wet yourself. The umbrella shades for one perfectly and two's a crowd for it." Cedric quickly explains. He takes her hand and places the umbrella's crook handle into it. "I'll be fine. Go on." The rain is falling heavily now and Hermione almost has to squint to see Cedric's visage clearly. The seventh year takes out his wand and mutters a spell as he taps her bag. She doesn't have to ask what the spell was for as she watches her bag magically dries itself and seemingly repelling any raindrops that incidentally makes contact with it. "Hurry on before you catch a cold." Cedric gives her a quick wave before running back under the rain into the changing rooms. Hermione almost laughs in lightheaded delight at the Hufflepuff's considerate nature.
-Lost in a dream from which I can't awaken-
Hermione's eyes pull open in surprise at the sudden warmth around her. Cedric smiles as he takes a sit beside her in the Room of Requirement. His school robe is carefully hung around her shoulders. "You fell asleep, Granger." Cedric offers in explanation.
Hermione rubs the sleep away from her eyes and look around the vast space around them. "Everyone else has left?"
"Well, it's been an hour or so since DA ended."
"I've been asleep for that long? Why didn't you wake me up?"
"Because you were tired after the meet and sleep seemed absolutely necessary." Hermione raises an eyebrow. "You've been studying the nights away for your O.W.L.s alongside your research for Harry's recurring nightmares and your worry for the lad with his ban from Quidditch, haven't you?" Cedric says knowingly.
"Were you stalking me?" Hermione jokes, carefully avoiding Cedric's searching gaze. She knows he's looking for tell-tale signs of fatigue. Her lack of sleep hadn't been quite apparent to anyone, safe for the Hufflepuff who seemed attuned to her every detail. Inwardly though, she is grateful for his concern.
"You're easy to read." Cedric answers, dropping his gaze from her as he picks up his book. "If you'd like, you could sleep a little more and I'll wake you up before midnight."
"What are you reading?"
"Muggle book – Jane Eyre." Cedric gives a half smile. "Shall I read to you?"
"I've read the book quite a few times myself, are you sure you could tell it to me in a manner that I would find it fascinating?"
The seventh year laughs in good humor. He clears his throat and begins to read. In a low yet clear voice, Cedric's lips part, "I knew – you would do me good in some way, at some time, I saw it in your eyes when I first beheld you," he pauses and looks at her with an ephemeral smile before looking away again within a second, "their expression and smile did not strike delight to my inmost heart so for nothing." The young witch finds her eyes slowly giving in to the tenderness of the voice from beside her, gently nudging her into a place where she finds herself at perfect ease. His voice continues, the words carefully weaving a pleasantly warm feeling within her as her minds draws to a tranquil plains.
When Cedric turns to the next page, he stops and looks at the fifth year beside him. An indulgent smile attaches itself to his amused features at the sight of the sleeping girl. He unconsciously hums a soft tune under his breath – a gentle melody that reaches beyond time and memory, filling the calm stillness in the air. The smile deepens when a fleeting thought comes to his mind. The memories he had shared with her then have gradually found their way back to him, alongside the feelings he could now easily recognize. Like a photobook, each image comes with a caption of the date and time, its when and how, and Cedric finds himself enjoying each recollection. Like small stalks of flowers to grow, they gradually fill the vast green field with much enthusiasm and beauty of life.
"Why did you stop?" Hermione murmurs with her eyes still closed.
"I just wanted to watch you for a bit." He answers honestly.
"Did you find anything fascinating then?"
"You've got a small smile on your lips – it's an unconscious thing on your part I reckon."
"I never knew."
"And it gives a faint dimple on your right cheek when you do that."
"You should stop staring at me so much." The Gryffindor replies in quiet amusement.
"You are fascinating to look at." Cedric answers, slightly bashful of his confession. The sleeping face that belonged to one Hermione Granger envelops his being with a warmth that shoots tendrils of sparks within him; sparks that speaks of a sense of completion and elation. She is his sanctuary. He hopes to tell her that one day.
"Will you whistle that tune?"
Cedric obliges without a reply. The melody echoes around them, sweeping their hearts to familiar mental images. The tune is soft and gentle, reaching their ears with fondness. The Hufflepuff Quidditch player thinks to himself how their memories have now interweave in a perfect thread of one, instead of splitting ends with twists and knots. Hermione slowly opens her eyes and smiles at Cedric before shifting herself closer to him. She leans her head on his shoulder and almost shivers in a burst of joy when she feels the gentle kiss on the crown of her hair. The kiss shifts to her top of her nose, like a drifting breeze barely touching her skin. Unable to resist, she looks up at the steel grey orbs.
"How can you be here, when a few months ago, I thought I had lost you?"
Cedric shrugs with a solemn look, "Because my place belongs to somewhere beside you?"
"Somewhere beside me or exactly beside me?"
The seventh year laughs lightly at her teasing words. "Beside you." He affirms. "Aren't there things where even the world changes with each passing time, it would still remain the same with that one thing that's beyond the comprehensible measure of a simple understanding?"
"That's quite a thought." She admits. Her gaze falls on the pile of books at their feet – a mixture of his and hers. "Complicated, isn't it?"
"But our hearts are meant to understand it, regardless. Where else do humans seek their solace and security if it isn't in each other, and in God of course."
"But some of us don't seek in a higher power without a knowing form or presence." Hermione answers knowingly.
"Those are the skeptics then. No harm in that." Cedric answers. "They have their own viewpoint and that's what keeps them in their own faith – but all the same, they still seek a human heart to share their every bit of life. I don't think we can ever push away a heart that responds to our own."
"Responds to our own," Hermione repeats with a thoughtful smile, "I rather like the way you had phrased it."
"Just like my own responding to yours, even without the fragments of what we shared. It was conclusive – it was you I was drawn to, compelled with, and none the other. My persistence wasn't based on a foolish instinct, but a natural yearning for the one person whom my heart seeks its companion with."
"There are those who find themselves falling out with that one heart as well." She slowly says. "When one thinks that this is it but over a period of passing hours and days, finds the heart no longer responding to their own."
"That's when one falls out of love, I suppose."
"It would be sad when it happens."
"And that's when they would find the rightful heart that would respond to them. Though I wonder," Cedric's gaze gives off a faraway look, "what happens if they don't find it."
"Then they will keep searching and perhaps, find it within time. Sometimes, they may not have to find it in a lover, but a sibling, or a good friend, or a teacher, someone unexpected. Didn't you say that we all seek for the feeling of solace and secure at all times? It's not just a lover who could provide the aforementioned." Hermione says in a matter-of-fact voice. Cedric nods. "I'm glad I've found that." She adds softly.
"In your family?"
Hermione nods, "My parents of course, and my grandmother – I think my heart beats the best with her because never once did I ever felt threatened by anything at all in the world when I'm with her." She looks at Cedric in the eye. "Though I do think I'm rather lucky to have found the closest match and the perfect match." A curious look answers her. "My parents and grandmother, and Harry – undoubtedly I think my heart corresponds with his, all of whom are the closest matches."
"And the perfect match?"
"Yours." She answers simply. "When your heart was faltering in the clutches of life, almost slipping through life's invisible fingers," Hermione bites her lower lip before boldly continuing, "I felt my own ceasing in its vigor because its reason of existence was threatened. And when you returned, so did it, but when I pulled away from you – it felt as if it was on the verge of a self-obliteration."
Cedric wordlessly pulled her to him, wrapping his other arm around her. "Don't ever put it through that again. The day it ceases its reason to live, that would be the day mine would die as well." Silence fills the moment, echoing Cedric's words within their very being.
"Do you think two hearts that companionably fit, are indiscernibly joined?"
"We are living in a magical world after all." Cedric smirks.
Hermione laughs. "That explains it much." She watches the Hufflepuff's lips form a grin of amusement. Her eyebrows knit in short question.
"You are practically glowing." He muses. Hermione consciously rubs her nose. Cedric's hand reaches out for it, "I didn't mean just your nose," he teases, "but your very being, is simply glowing. With overwhelming rapture?"
Hermione laughs again. "Is it that obvious?"
Cedric nods amusedly. "I hope my presence is a factor in said elation."
"It is."
"Infectious. I can just feel that very elation seeping into my being."
"Well it should." Hermione smirks playfully.
"If this is a reverie of my thoughts, I doubt I'd ever want to wake up from it."
"Well, you can't." The fifth year witch says softly yet firmly. Her brown eyes meet his. "Because I don't want you to." Her gaze averts in slight embarrassment, "Stay in this dream –with me."
"I will." Cedric murmurs before softly touching his lips to hers in tender sentiment as an agreement, and a promise.
A/N: Thank you all for the favorites, alerts and kind words :) Merry Christmas and happy holidays to all.