Sorry for the long wait between Chapters.... Life's been REALLY busy over
the past little while, and I'm also working on a few other stories at this
time. So I'll try to keep this one going, as I know most of yous have
probably thought I've forgotten about it, and moved on. But that's not the
case. So here's four, and enjoy.
The tantalizing smell of a slow-cooked meal whafted through the floorboards of Cedric's room, making his mouth water. He'd spent the last half-hour studing mindlessly. It was time for a break. Stretching his cramped body he arose from his desk chair, and reached for his discarded shirt. If he didn't have to wear a shirt, he wouldn't.
Wings fluttered against his closed window, drawing his attention. With a quick stride he crossed the room and shifted the pane open for the waiting bird. He reconized the snowy owl immediatly. It was Hedwig, Harry's owl. With great ease she landed on the ledge of the open window, and presented one foot to Cedric, a note tied to her horney leg.
"Ah," he said, reaching for the parchment, "you bring words."
Removing it gently from her, he gazed blankly at the parchment. There was nothing written on the outside to give any indication as to who it might be from. Giving Hedwig a soft pat, he watched her fly back to the Gryffindor tower, and slip through an open window. Stepping away from his own window, he flopped down on his bed and pulled the string from around the note. A soft, feminine smell greeted his nose, making his nostrals flare slightly. Slipping on a pair of silver-rimmed glasses, he began to read.
Cedric,
Interested in getting together tonight? Send me a reply back if you are.
Hermione.
Looking over at the dozing Peetrie in her cage, Cedric grinned, then reached for his parrot-feather quill.
She had no idea why she was taking so much time and care getting ready for supper tonight. It wasn't like Chad was going to be there, he had quidditch practice. Then why was she dolling herself up? She knew the answer, just hated to admit it. There was still the chance that Cedric would take her up on her offer tonight. And naturally, the only way she was going to catch his eye was to look appealing.
Standing before her bedroom mirror, she tried to admire herself as he would. Lush, copper-coloured hair, tied back some, the rest tumbling over her shoulders like an untouched waterfall. Her soft blue shirt was a drop- shoulder, flared sleeve, the colour matching her own eyes perfectly. The pants were a simple black stretch flair, form-fitting to show off every curve she had to offer. Around her neck hung a small silver butterfly on a silver chain, to match the butterflies that hung from her ears.
With aid of the mirror, she caught sight of a blue and gold macaw, sitting on her windowsill, a rolled peice of emerald parchment tied to one of its legs. Walking voer to the waiting bird, she gently removed the note.
"Let's just make sure these are the words I'm looking for." She commented to the bird, slipping the gold string off the parchment.
Hermione,
I would be delighted to get together with you tonight. Meet me in the Great Hall was we can go from there.
Cedric N.C. Didgery
With a delighted smile, she turned the parchment over, wrote her reply on the back of it, then sent it back out the window with the macaw.
For a Friday evening, the Great Hall was amazingly quiet. Few students sat around the four long tables, some sitting with friends of other houses, some sitting at their own tables. Cedric's eyes scanned the large room, searching for her. Hermione was sitting at the Gryffindor table, mindlessly stirring a mug of steaming liquid, with a short spoon.
Sighing softly, he closed the distance between them.
Hermione heard the click of polished black tap shoes against the stone floor, and smiled into her coffee. So he had arrived. There was no doubt in her mind those shoes belonged to Cedric. She, as well as the rest of the school, has gotten quite used to the sound over the past week, and could now identify him by that exact sound.
He stopped, standing before her on the other side of the long table, the shadows casted off the low fires and high walls playing havoc with his features. Softly he cleared his throat.
"Been waiting long?"
It was not the greeting she had quite expected, and it took her a moment to compose an answer.
"No. Long enough to snag myself a cup of coffee. Won't you join me?"
He stood there a moment, as if contimplating her offer, then took the seat across from hers.
Watching him, Hermione was reminded of a wild animal, just starting to be tamed by society. He moved with calm, collective power, but underneith there was a glimmer of pent-up energy, just dying to be released. It was almost as if he never completly relaxed, always ready to spring at the first sign of dnager. The thought alone sent shivers down her spine. Damn was he ever going to be a lady killer in his older years.
"So what's Chad up to tonight?" Cedric asked, voice rich with a Caribbean accent.
"Quidditch practice." She answered quickly. "First game on thursday night you know. Slytherin vs Gryffindor."
Cedric nodded some, the gesture done in an almost bordly way. So the boy was not much for small talk. Hermione sighed. There was only one way to get a conversation going with him...
"Listen Didg, I'm going to be Frank with you here."
Cedric raised an eyebrow, and cocked his head slightly. "Now you want to be Frank? What's wrong with the name Hermione?"
She hung her head, almost in deffeat. "Real mature Didg...exactly what any other thirteen year old male would do."
A playful smile broke out across his face. "Good. Nice to know you understand that about me. With that out of the way, we can talk more interesting things."
"Not quite Mr. Didgery," warned Hermione, lifting her head to face him once again. "the only normal thing about you being a thirteen year old male is that last comment you just made. Everything else about you is almost like you walked off another planet."
A confussed look danced across his emerald eyes, an amusing smile hovering at the corners of his mouth. "Another planet? How so?"
Hermione wanted to slap the smile off his face.
"Is there anything in life that phases you?"
"Phases me?" Questioned Cedric. "Explain."
"Alright." Nodded Hermione. "I'll try my best."
Cedric leaned back on the bench some, crossing an ankle over his knee. Hermione huffed and puffed some, then settled herself down with a sigh.
"You blaze into Hogwarts with your polished tap shoes, and your silk ruffled shirts. First day of school you're wearing your Hufflepuff tie around your waist like a belt, completly ignoring the dress code and uniform in this school. Everywhere you go in this bloody building, people stop, stare, and whisper about you like you're some sort of side-show freak. Yet you continue to walk around with a smile on your face and your head held high like you haven't a care in this world. Do you not hear some of the things being whispered about you? Have you not heard the stories, or read the writings on the wall?"
He laughed, almost in a mocking tone. "Of course I hear them. How could I not when the words they speak are spoken when I'm right beside them? Besides, why do you care so much? What's it to you what is being said about me?"
Anger flared inside her. "Because you ninny-poop, it's not normal! Not normal that you should have no reaction to their words and their actions. How is it that you can turn the other way, while every other student would have cracked under the pressure? You're like a bug in a magnifing jar. All you can do is scurry around aimlessly, while everyone else watches you with extreme interest, and you enjoy it!"
Uncrossing his legs, he leaned into her across the table. She could smell the scent of his freshly laundred shirt, mixed with the charming smell of his own skin.
"So now it's un-normal for me to not react outward to words spoken by people who judge me on false pretences hmmm? That doesn't seem right to me. If you were in my shoes Herimione, would you listen to falsehoods and half- truths spoken about you, by under-guided people, or would you walk on by them, a smile on your lips and a twinkle in your eye?"
The tension hung between them, heavy in the air. There were a few short moments where Hermione was almost afraid to breath. He'd made a very valid point, but had she listened to it?
She blinked some, leaning back from him. "N-no, I g-g-guess I w- wouldn't l-l-listen."
His smile blossomed across his face, and he resumed his laid back, some-what relaxed position. She could feel emerald eyes watching her, making her skin prickle uncomfortably. Trying to shake the feeling off, she reached for her coffee, tasting it's warmth as it slid down her throat some.
"I get the distinct impression you don't care for me too much Hermione."
Her eyes budlged in disbelief, her hands replacing the mug on the table, nothing more than a sip gone from it. "Where do you get that from?"
"Many things actually." He sighed. "The way you're always watching me from the corner of your eye, shaking your head in disapointment at me. The way whenever you talk to me you never actually look me in the eye. You either dislike me, or I scare you in some way."
Setting a stubborn look on her face she shook her head side to side. "Au contraire. You neither scare me nor intimidate me. I don't hate you, just find you a little on the odd side, in a fascinating way."
A puzzled look crossed his face, causing her to laugh.
"The culture difference between us is incredible. It's almost like we're from two different worlds-"
"In a way we are." He interupted.
She rolled her eyes. "That's deffinitly not a London attitude you've got there Cedric. No one here is as cocky as you are." She stopped, to flash him a cute smile. "But getting back on topic here. Your ways and manors facinate me. You're the only thirteen year old I know who has a complete wardrobe of silk dress shirts and slacks, complete with matching belts and accessories. You care totally what you look like every morning, and will not settle for a random t-shirt and a pair of pants big enough for you and the first four hundred of your closest friends to party in. With you, it's all a matter of class and style. You're not gay are you?"
Both his brows disapeared into his bangs. "You care how you look and dress. Does that make you a lesbian?"
Hermione sat a moment in silence, both hands wrapped around her forgotten coffee. Once again he'd made a valid point. So there was some brains behind that cute face and dreamy eyes.
Instantly after her mind formed that thought, her eyes widdened in shock. Since when did she think Cedric Didgery cute with dreamy eyes? He was nothing like Chad.
"No," she thought darkly, "he's better."
"Care to share your thoughts with the other party sitting at the table?"
His regal, soft-spoken voice penitrated her barrier of personal thoughts, dragging her back to the world of reality. Her cheeks turned a light crimson.
"Not realy. Wanna go for a walk?"
"Sure." He nodded. "I'd love to."
The tantalizing smell of a slow-cooked meal whafted through the floorboards of Cedric's room, making his mouth water. He'd spent the last half-hour studing mindlessly. It was time for a break. Stretching his cramped body he arose from his desk chair, and reached for his discarded shirt. If he didn't have to wear a shirt, he wouldn't.
Wings fluttered against his closed window, drawing his attention. With a quick stride he crossed the room and shifted the pane open for the waiting bird. He reconized the snowy owl immediatly. It was Hedwig, Harry's owl. With great ease she landed on the ledge of the open window, and presented one foot to Cedric, a note tied to her horney leg.
"Ah," he said, reaching for the parchment, "you bring words."
Removing it gently from her, he gazed blankly at the parchment. There was nothing written on the outside to give any indication as to who it might be from. Giving Hedwig a soft pat, he watched her fly back to the Gryffindor tower, and slip through an open window. Stepping away from his own window, he flopped down on his bed and pulled the string from around the note. A soft, feminine smell greeted his nose, making his nostrals flare slightly. Slipping on a pair of silver-rimmed glasses, he began to read.
Cedric,
Interested in getting together tonight? Send me a reply back if you are.
Hermione.
Looking over at the dozing Peetrie in her cage, Cedric grinned, then reached for his parrot-feather quill.
She had no idea why she was taking so much time and care getting ready for supper tonight. It wasn't like Chad was going to be there, he had quidditch practice. Then why was she dolling herself up? She knew the answer, just hated to admit it. There was still the chance that Cedric would take her up on her offer tonight. And naturally, the only way she was going to catch his eye was to look appealing.
Standing before her bedroom mirror, she tried to admire herself as he would. Lush, copper-coloured hair, tied back some, the rest tumbling over her shoulders like an untouched waterfall. Her soft blue shirt was a drop- shoulder, flared sleeve, the colour matching her own eyes perfectly. The pants were a simple black stretch flair, form-fitting to show off every curve she had to offer. Around her neck hung a small silver butterfly on a silver chain, to match the butterflies that hung from her ears.
With aid of the mirror, she caught sight of a blue and gold macaw, sitting on her windowsill, a rolled peice of emerald parchment tied to one of its legs. Walking voer to the waiting bird, she gently removed the note.
"Let's just make sure these are the words I'm looking for." She commented to the bird, slipping the gold string off the parchment.
Hermione,
I would be delighted to get together with you tonight. Meet me in the Great Hall was we can go from there.
Cedric N.C. Didgery
With a delighted smile, she turned the parchment over, wrote her reply on the back of it, then sent it back out the window with the macaw.
For a Friday evening, the Great Hall was amazingly quiet. Few students sat around the four long tables, some sitting with friends of other houses, some sitting at their own tables. Cedric's eyes scanned the large room, searching for her. Hermione was sitting at the Gryffindor table, mindlessly stirring a mug of steaming liquid, with a short spoon.
Sighing softly, he closed the distance between them.
Hermione heard the click of polished black tap shoes against the stone floor, and smiled into her coffee. So he had arrived. There was no doubt in her mind those shoes belonged to Cedric. She, as well as the rest of the school, has gotten quite used to the sound over the past week, and could now identify him by that exact sound.
He stopped, standing before her on the other side of the long table, the shadows casted off the low fires and high walls playing havoc with his features. Softly he cleared his throat.
"Been waiting long?"
It was not the greeting she had quite expected, and it took her a moment to compose an answer.
"No. Long enough to snag myself a cup of coffee. Won't you join me?"
He stood there a moment, as if contimplating her offer, then took the seat across from hers.
Watching him, Hermione was reminded of a wild animal, just starting to be tamed by society. He moved with calm, collective power, but underneith there was a glimmer of pent-up energy, just dying to be released. It was almost as if he never completly relaxed, always ready to spring at the first sign of dnager. The thought alone sent shivers down her spine. Damn was he ever going to be a lady killer in his older years.
"So what's Chad up to tonight?" Cedric asked, voice rich with a Caribbean accent.
"Quidditch practice." She answered quickly. "First game on thursday night you know. Slytherin vs Gryffindor."
Cedric nodded some, the gesture done in an almost bordly way. So the boy was not much for small talk. Hermione sighed. There was only one way to get a conversation going with him...
"Listen Didg, I'm going to be Frank with you here."
Cedric raised an eyebrow, and cocked his head slightly. "Now you want to be Frank? What's wrong with the name Hermione?"
She hung her head, almost in deffeat. "Real mature Didg...exactly what any other thirteen year old male would do."
A playful smile broke out across his face. "Good. Nice to know you understand that about me. With that out of the way, we can talk more interesting things."
"Not quite Mr. Didgery," warned Hermione, lifting her head to face him once again. "the only normal thing about you being a thirteen year old male is that last comment you just made. Everything else about you is almost like you walked off another planet."
A confussed look danced across his emerald eyes, an amusing smile hovering at the corners of his mouth. "Another planet? How so?"
Hermione wanted to slap the smile off his face.
"Is there anything in life that phases you?"
"Phases me?" Questioned Cedric. "Explain."
"Alright." Nodded Hermione. "I'll try my best."
Cedric leaned back on the bench some, crossing an ankle over his knee. Hermione huffed and puffed some, then settled herself down with a sigh.
"You blaze into Hogwarts with your polished tap shoes, and your silk ruffled shirts. First day of school you're wearing your Hufflepuff tie around your waist like a belt, completly ignoring the dress code and uniform in this school. Everywhere you go in this bloody building, people stop, stare, and whisper about you like you're some sort of side-show freak. Yet you continue to walk around with a smile on your face and your head held high like you haven't a care in this world. Do you not hear some of the things being whispered about you? Have you not heard the stories, or read the writings on the wall?"
He laughed, almost in a mocking tone. "Of course I hear them. How could I not when the words they speak are spoken when I'm right beside them? Besides, why do you care so much? What's it to you what is being said about me?"
Anger flared inside her. "Because you ninny-poop, it's not normal! Not normal that you should have no reaction to their words and their actions. How is it that you can turn the other way, while every other student would have cracked under the pressure? You're like a bug in a magnifing jar. All you can do is scurry around aimlessly, while everyone else watches you with extreme interest, and you enjoy it!"
Uncrossing his legs, he leaned into her across the table. She could smell the scent of his freshly laundred shirt, mixed with the charming smell of his own skin.
"So now it's un-normal for me to not react outward to words spoken by people who judge me on false pretences hmmm? That doesn't seem right to me. If you were in my shoes Herimione, would you listen to falsehoods and half- truths spoken about you, by under-guided people, or would you walk on by them, a smile on your lips and a twinkle in your eye?"
The tension hung between them, heavy in the air. There were a few short moments where Hermione was almost afraid to breath. He'd made a very valid point, but had she listened to it?
She blinked some, leaning back from him. "N-no, I g-g-guess I w- wouldn't l-l-listen."
His smile blossomed across his face, and he resumed his laid back, some-what relaxed position. She could feel emerald eyes watching her, making her skin prickle uncomfortably. Trying to shake the feeling off, she reached for her coffee, tasting it's warmth as it slid down her throat some.
"I get the distinct impression you don't care for me too much Hermione."
Her eyes budlged in disbelief, her hands replacing the mug on the table, nothing more than a sip gone from it. "Where do you get that from?"
"Many things actually." He sighed. "The way you're always watching me from the corner of your eye, shaking your head in disapointment at me. The way whenever you talk to me you never actually look me in the eye. You either dislike me, or I scare you in some way."
Setting a stubborn look on her face she shook her head side to side. "Au contraire. You neither scare me nor intimidate me. I don't hate you, just find you a little on the odd side, in a fascinating way."
A puzzled look crossed his face, causing her to laugh.
"The culture difference between us is incredible. It's almost like we're from two different worlds-"
"In a way we are." He interupted.
She rolled her eyes. "That's deffinitly not a London attitude you've got there Cedric. No one here is as cocky as you are." She stopped, to flash him a cute smile. "But getting back on topic here. Your ways and manors facinate me. You're the only thirteen year old I know who has a complete wardrobe of silk dress shirts and slacks, complete with matching belts and accessories. You care totally what you look like every morning, and will not settle for a random t-shirt and a pair of pants big enough for you and the first four hundred of your closest friends to party in. With you, it's all a matter of class and style. You're not gay are you?"
Both his brows disapeared into his bangs. "You care how you look and dress. Does that make you a lesbian?"
Hermione sat a moment in silence, both hands wrapped around her forgotten coffee. Once again he'd made a valid point. So there was some brains behind that cute face and dreamy eyes.
Instantly after her mind formed that thought, her eyes widdened in shock. Since when did she think Cedric Didgery cute with dreamy eyes? He was nothing like Chad.
"No," she thought darkly, "he's better."
"Care to share your thoughts with the other party sitting at the table?"
His regal, soft-spoken voice penitrated her barrier of personal thoughts, dragging her back to the world of reality. Her cheeks turned a light crimson.
"Not realy. Wanna go for a walk?"
"Sure." He nodded. "I'd love to."