Disclaimer
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All names, places and concepts related to
Harry Potter are the property of JK Rowling.
This applies to the entire work.
I have given a rating of M due to Adult Themes.
This rating may be increased for later chapters.
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AN: Yet another…
§ - sonofgloin
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He sat on that shelf, the dry winter wind casting strands of hair off his forehead. The world silent about him, cheeks still flushed from the flight.
It was all before him, grey snow falling in muffled streams, a silent sheath that covered all knowing with its cold hands.
The sun was gone behind thick clouds, the gods' steeple, pale light lost between rock and tree.
"You're quiet."
Oliver turned his head.
Cedric sat beside him, knees to his chest, the soft blue of his eyes the clearest thing on that day.
Oliver didn't answer but turned back to the distant view, the wash of colour, within him the dull stretch before the end of it all.
"I think I know now."
Oliver could feel Cedric's frown, the question that would come.
"Know what?"
His sigh was everlasting, pain and fear exhaled, lost before the seasons call.
Oliver answered slowly.
"About the Dementors. About everything."
He turned to look at the Hufflepuff.
"We know, in some form we always do. What's right in its way."
What was left unspoken was breaking free.
"We're affected because of fear. Not fear of knowing, or living, or loneliness, or fear of pain."
Oliver looked back into the storm.
"We live our lives, every day, how we want. We do so much, so many things, influence and experience and choice making us who we are."
The snow broke before his eyes, light dark through the eddying storm.
"We could cure cancer, fly without wings or broom, solve every problem this small world has, and in the end it counts for nothing. We will always be known by one thing."
"We fear, of course we fear, but not for ourselves. Not to be introduced as 'this is Oliver, he likes to dance, and has brown shoes' but 'this is Oliver, he likes guys'."
"To have so small a thing, the thing that defines us, not what we've done, or how we've lived."
"To have the one thing that makes each of us different from every other person on this earth, as who we want to be with."
He looked back at Cedric, into him.
"Of course we fear."
Oliver shook his head, so unbelieving and vacant. This was what it came down to. Why would anyone want to live like that. Why should they have to.
The Gryffindor felt Cedric's hand on his shoulder.
"It's all just so unimportant."
The hazel breeze swum around the two of them, lost leaves under grizzled sky.
"C'mon," said Cedric "Stand up."
Oliver turned to him
"What?"
"Up," said Cedric again "Get up."
The smallest grin lined the Gryffindor's face.
He stood beside the Hufflepuff. Cedric drew his wand.
"Sonorus."
Oliver's eyes narrowed.
"Yell," said Cedric "Just yell."
Oliver drew his own wand but Cedric caught his hand.
"Don't remove it, just yell."
The two looked at each other, Oliver confused, how would this help.
Cedric put a hand to the Gryffindor's face, its warmth spreading through him.
The Hufflepuff stepped closer.
"For once, don't think, or feel or plan. Just once do something for you alone."
Oliver's eyes closed at the touch of his lips, that breaking shiver of heat running through him, every thought and being drowned in that single moment.
"Now yell."
And Oliver screamed, every word, everything, bleeding from him into the blizzard.
He freed what he held on to for so long, resentment, hatred, what he thought he knew. And beside him he heard Cedric, felt his warm breath.
"They can put aside all the things they ever knew about you, for that one, small, inconsequential part. They can talk and laugh and hold to that tiny revelation in their tiny little worlds, but I will always see you for who you are… Oliver Wood."