Shipping B1 - Miscommunication
Spring A2 - Tea/Coffee
Trope A4 - The Mentor
Scavenger Hunt: Writing Diversity (black)
Stacked With: FPC; BAON; Star; Fence; T3; SN; Ship; SpB; TrB; IC&F
Challenges: Old Shoes (Y); Long Haul (Y); The Real MC; Two Cakes (Y); Eating Cake (Y); Zed Era (Y); Hold the Mayo (Y); Saucy Oven (Y); Disabled (Y); Ethnic & Present (Y); Rian-Russo Inversion (Y); Rowl in her Grave; Neurodivergent (Y); Gryffindor MC; Hufflepuff MC; Ravenclaw MC; Magical MC; Red Lights; Red Wave (Y); Red Bull (x2); Missing Rainbow
Primary & Secondary: Found Family; Sneeze Weasel; Teat Juice; Bee Haven; Machismo; Second Verse (Ladylike; Not a Lamp; Persistence Still); Chorus (Endless Wonder; Odd Feathers; Pear-Shaped; Wabi Sabi)
Tertiary & Generic: T3 (Thimble); SN (Rail; Intercept)
Warnings: Near hit by a car, discussions of animal slaughter, discussions of depression and fear of self-harm
~o0o~
A soft knock came at Cedric's door early Sunday morning as they were working out. They didn't really need to keep up their farm boy physique anymore, it just helped him get out a lot of what his mum had called 'nervous energy.' Their heart jumped in their throat. Was it Michael? Had she come back? Changed her mind? They scrambled to their feet and hurried to answer the door. No one was there but the lift closed. A pink box had been left on the ground. On top was a note in Hermione Granger's cramped script.
Thanks for your help and sorry I've been rude to you for the past seven years.
— Hermione
Cedric felt that they should apologize too. The past seven years being at each other's throats could have been completely avoided if they could have managed to talk about why they didn't get along. They kept teasing her to get her to laugh or even smile and she thought they were making fun of her. She was used to being straightforward while they were afraid to say exactly what they meant. It was easier to change the meaning when you let people draw the conclusion and react based upon it.
They realized that Hermione was polite until her last nerve was struck. Cedric just seemed to strike that nerve a lot. Mum often said "Cedric, habibi, you are a headache."
And so at school they found it better to just… not speak at all. And then everyone thought that because they didn't speak that they were stupid. So after the Tournament fiasco and three years in a depressive spiral, they decided sod it all and to just be themself.
It wasn't like Granger didn't give them a headache right back. She was so serious and uptight. The most anxious person they had ever met, too. It was like she was constantly walking a tightrope. And yet there were times where they were just utterly amazed by her. She was passionate and headstrong and steadfast in her beliefs. Which was why they had made an attempt to flirt, which only stirred up more animosity. Not Cedric's wisest move, especially since she was constantly harassed by Cormac.
The gift thing wasn't expected. It was terrible that she had been attacked just heading home, but at least she trusted them enough to help. And the few hours spent eating dinner and watching tv was nice. Really nice. Perhaps this was a sign that they could be friends, even with that promotion being dangled like a carrot.
Cedric drummed their fingers on the countertop and sighed.
Even so, there was that lingering disappointment. They wanted to see their mystery woman again. Was something wrong with them? Why did Michael leave? They wished they hadn't gotten so drunk. All they remembered about their one night stand was the color of her skin and how she made them feel. They thought she might have had some tattoos. It didn't matter, did it? Clearly it didn't, because she saw who they were and didn't want to stick around for Cedric Diggory: the Failed Champion.
They just… thought they found their soulmate. When they talked and kissed and… more… Cedric found themselves glad that Hermione had swerved around an asking out. It wouldn't have been fair to ditch her for someone else. And really, it was probably a shallow attraction. A crush.
They had spent the better part of a decade crammed in an office together, some feelings were bound to form. And she was very pretty and they knew she was attracted to them, too, but just because you found someone attractive didn't mean you were meant to be together. Lots of people were attracted to them.
"Just open the bloody present, Cedric," they said aloud and removed the lid.
Nestled in wax paper were doughnuts. Warm. Fresh. Topped with icing sugar and smelling heavenly. Cedric plucked one out and examined it before taking a bite. The inside was filled with a strawberry jam and the dough had a faint hint of nutmeg.
"Mm!" they groaned and carried the box over to the couch to eat.
After their "super healthy" breakfast, they showered and got dressed. They weren't quite sure how they could work it into a newspaper format yet, but they had a new article they wanted to write.
Modern Fashions | Need We Hide Anymore?
Cedric intended to go out today and capture all the new and interesting ways Muggles dressed in order to prove that robes really weren't all that strange and it was better to dress how you were most comfortable than the willful ignorance in fashion many wixen proved. Even their own father had absolutely no idea how to dress like a Muggle. It was embarrassing.
And yet Cedric's preferred style of dress was unnatural and wrong? Tch! Sure.
They put on black skinny jeans, their Docs with the red roses on the sides, and layered up with a pink, long-sleeved shirt under a band tee, a hooded jacket and their leather jacket. The jacket of course was glittering with spikes, rhinestones, and pins as well as cluttered with patches picked up from concerts, pride parades, and protests. It was their favorite item of clothing. The first thing they bought actually when they were no longer letting their father control their life.
To finish it off, they charmed the ends of their hair pink, applied eyeliner, and put in their piercings. They never wore them at the actual workplace, but out and about was fine. They really liked the mismatched set they found at a store. One earring was a stud shaped like the sun and the other was a crescent moon that dripped with cubic zirconia stars.
"I look amazing," they whispered, looking in the mirror.
They got their camera equipment set up, packed a snack, and set off into London. It was a cold day, but it was sunny and people were likely to be out and about. Bonfire Night was last night, but that usually meant people went out to eat the next day rather than deal with the leftovers at home.
Sure enough, they got loads of great pictures from people in all manner of dress. Cedric loved walking the city like this. It was different from the life they grew up living in the country. There were so many interesting people and a variety of shops, and if you hated one there was likely another down the block to try.
A couple snuggling together passed by, oozing with love and adoration for each other. Cedric felt a pang of yearning and sighed wistfully. With them being… as they were, they weren't likely to find anyone that easily, but was a relationship really worth it if they had to hide a piece (or most) of themselves in order to be loved?
No. It didn't matter how many nice girls Fleur or Fred or anyone else who was still their friend hinted at knowing. If she couldn't accept all of them, then they didn't want to even try. Loneliness wasn't an acceptable reason to settle with someone you didn't fit with.
Ending up in a park closer to home, Cedric was starting to wonder if they should head home or go do something to evade the crushing weight of loneliness.
A band playing calm Latin music stood in the bandstand in the middle of a sidewalk roundabout. Couples swayed to the woman's sweet singing, people passed through them hurrying to destinations and wrapped up in their own minds.
This was a nice park. It had interesting statues and landmarks. Cedric took pictures of the scene.
Then, through the bandstand someone caught his eye. A witch? Well, she wore a black, wide-brimmed witch's hat decorated with beautiful white silk flowers. They peered through the magnifier of their camera at her. They couldn't see her face, but saw white curls tumbling over her shoulders. Her black lace cloak fluttered delicately in the wind and they could see part of her white bishop-sleeve blouse for she delicately held three glittering leashes in her leather and lace-gloved hand.
Moving around the bandstand, they searched for her. She was easy to find like a bat among birds. He found himself drawn towards her. Her cloak was short and they could see a purple circle skirt with layers of petticoats. Her slender legs were clad in black diamond stockings, a gust of wind showed they were tucked into bloomers. To complete the look she wore two-toned oxford heels.
Rather than three little dogs like they had expected, there were three cats in harnesses. She danced by herself to the music, her cats bounding around her and playing with fallen leaves.
Nobody was wary of her and instead approached her to talk to her, complimenting her outfit or commenting on the fact that she was walking cats.
Cedric raised their camera and snapped one picture, then a second, then a third. The woman turned her head to the side and his heart leapt into his throat. Wow… She was lovely with long eyelashes and plump lips colored inky black. Her skin was a warm brown, though her cheeks were flushed from the cold. She seemed familiar in a way.
A little girl in her own witch's hat toting a plastic wand shyly talked to her and patted the head of the brown cat. They snapped a photo of the sweet exchange.
Maybe Cedric wasn't meant to find love in the wizarding world. A muggle wouldn't know… Circe of Aeaea, she was breathtaking. She looked at a watch on her hand and easily stepped over her cats, heading towards the exit. She still danced and probably would keep at it until the wind blew the music away. This city was huge and if it took this long for Cedric to find her, then they couldn't risk losing her. Gathering up their courage, Cedric lengthened their stride to catch up to her.
"Hello, sorry to bother you, but—"
"Cedric?"
Cedric blinked. It took them a moment to recognize her.
"Hermione…"
Her face flushed with embarrassment. Up close he could see her cloak had a lace pattern, she wore a waistcoat with silver buttons, and her hat was tied primly down with a satin ribbon.
"Nice outfit," they said.
"Thank you," she said, looking down at it as if she forgot what she put on. "I like your jacket."
"Oh, thanks. Decorated it myself," they said, looking down at it.
"It's cool."
"Thanks."
Wow… the awkwardness was palpable.
"What are you doing out and about?" they asked.
"Walking the cats," she said, holding up the leashes as proof.
"Right." The little orange and white one was cozying up to them, settling on top of their boot. "Why are you walking your cats?"
"So they don't destroy my flat out of boredom."
"Ah, makes perfect sense. Maybe I oughta consider walking George Slow-pez. Not destructive, but I think he gets bored."
They winked and she smiled slightly rather than get mad at them for making fun of her. Their heart beat a little faster.
"Your turn," she said in that perfectly mechanical tone she used with everyone. "What brings you out here?"
They wondered what she sounded like with people she didn't know.
"New article," they said, tapping their camera. "Might submit it to Witch Weekly, too, my contract with the D.P. is non-exclusive. It's about how Muggle fashions are already so diverse that wizard robes will at best get you a compliment and at worst a funny look."
"I like it," she said, continuing on her walk before the cats could decide to escape. "I assume you had intended to ask the Muggle you thought I was for a picture to include in your article?"
"Yes. Exactly." Definitely not to chat her up for a date. "So… never seen you wear this sort of thing before. Actually… maybe I've seen that blouse."
"Can you imagine if I showed up to work like this?" she said. "They'll throw me in the Janus Thickley Ward at St. Mungo's."
"Is it a recent style change?"
She hesitated. "I mean… I didn't get to start dressing like this until I was on my own. My parents… they always forced a preppy style on me and color changing charms if done wrong can damage fabric. I push where I can but… you should have seen how Ron reacted when I finally updated my wardrobe. I thought he was going to stage an intervention."
"So… you've just been hiding this part of yourself? For thirty years?"
"Not hiding. Compartmentalizing," she corrected. "If I were hiding, I would never dress like this. I only dress this way when I think I won't see anyone I know."
"I think you might be surprised," said Cedric. "On what people will think about you if you just be yourself."
A twinge of annoyance. They said the wrong thing, didn't they?
"Well, that's where our lives are different, Diggory," she said. "You never had to try to get people to like you."
Cedric frowned. What did she know? "And that's all based on the person I was in school."
"You had friends from the get go! I didn't have any until I almost got killed by a troll," she scoffed. "Even now… I have people that I see, but I always reach out to them. Nobody ever stopped and thought to themselves, 'You know what would make this outing great? If we invited Hermione!'"
"That might be because you're a stick in the mud."
"No. People just assume that about me and never bothered to find out if it was true or not," she said crossly.
"You know what your problem is?"
"Oh, do tell."
"You don't think highly of anyone but yourself. If you took your nose out of the air for one damn second you might realize that nobody gives a shit what you like to wear!"
"It's not just the clothes. It's not that simple, Diggory. It never has been for me!" she spat. "The fact of the matter is that I'm not even someone a mother could love!" She flinched and held a hand over her mouth. "I shouldn't have said that. Just forget I said anything."
She scooped up her cats and hurried off.
Cedric leaned against the wall of the building and watched her disappear, ignoring the judgemental looks from the passersby assuming they witnessed a lovers' spat.
"Foot meet mouth," they muttered.
Not even a person a mother could love. She never did talk about herself. Not about anything beyond a superficial level anyhow.
God, she was an enigma. Some days, Cedric didn't know if they wanted to wrap her up in a bear hug or just arm wrestle her.
They picked up groceries for dinner and headed home. The alone thing hit them once more. That was the problem when all your friends were married and you weren't. Well, there was Hermione, but she probably wouldn't open the door for them after their bickering led to her spilling something about herself that she probably kept from even Harry and Ron.
The next day at work, Cedric got there early to wait for her. She was on time, but late by her standards, most days she was there before anyone else. Her brown hair was in a perfect bun, her makeup subtle, and her clothes professional and unassuming, but stylish. She wore a white blouse with a matching bow tied at her neck and skinny black trousers tucked into her lace-up boots. She walked primly with her chin lifted up and a haughty attitude.
No… she was walking that tightrope nobody else could see and keeping her focus so she couldn't be disarmed.
"Good morning, Hermione," said Luna cheerfully.
"Good morning." She hung up her heathered wool overcoat on the rack and put her lunch in the icebox by their coffee station. She sniffed the air and leaned over, trying to see inside. Damn those trousers were tight.
Cedric chided themself for checking her out and stood up to offer her the coffee they bought for her from the place she liked.
"Ugh! What is that smell?" she asked.
"Aw, did the cake go bad?" asked Luna.
Hermione whipped her head around in disbelief. "That was a cake?!"
Cedric opened their mouth to speak just as Hermione took off, no doubt to get a container to throw the cake in. She crashed into them, the coffee spilling down her front. She yelped and danced away from them, holding the fabric away from her skin. It was still steaming.
Shit.
"I am so sorry!" Cedric breathed, appalled at their clumsiness. "I—I didn't mean to, I was—"
She hummed and held up a hand to stop them.
"I was just—"
"Mm-mm!" She wiggled a finger. She inhaled deeply and shrieked, though her pressed lips muffled the sound.
She picked up her purse and left the office.
Cedric threw the cup away and wiped off the bit that splattered on them.
"That went well," said Luna cheerfully, opening the fridge to dispose of the cake. "Why the coffee?"
"I hurt her feelings yesterday," they sighed. "After she gave me apology donuts. So I was going to give her some coffee from the place she likes and… I spilled it down her front."
"Nothing says 'sorry' like second degree burns," fae beamed. "You and Hermione have been at each other's throats for years now. Why the sudden change?"
"I don't know… I see her all the time and urgh! She's impossible! Frankly, she's been acting even more impossible lately."
"Maybe she's your secret rendezvous," said Luna.
"Tch, yeah right. You really think Hermione Granger would show up to a work event dressed like that, get completely knackered, and sing like Little Nell in front of everyone? Much less go home with someone she didn't even know? She's so prim and proper she probably requires a chaperone on first dates."
"I don't know," fae said. "Harry was so scandalized by her pig comment."
Cedric snorted at the memory. "That was pretty funny, but people say the strangest things when they've hit their limit. I don't know… I think something happened to her on Halloween that she hasn't told anyone. Has she said anything to you?"
"Not a word, but I think she just acts this way to protect herself."
"From what?"
Luna smiled and flicked their forehead. "That is the question, isn't it?"
The door opened and Hermione entered, this time wearing a long-sleeved black dress with white cuffs and a white collar, which she decorated with a collar chain brooch. Fire opals set in filigree, pretty, but not over-the-top. Cedric respected that level of preparedness. She hung her purse under her coat and Cedric stepped aside so she could access the coffee counter.
"You're not hurt are you?" they asked. "I really didn't mean to spill that on you. I meant to give it to you. Cause… you know… you gave me those donuts."
"Sufganiyot."
"Huh?"
"They're called sufganiyot," she said. "My abuela taught me how to make them for Hanukkah, but they're good year round. She lives in the Dominican Republic."
"Oh? That's cool. Are there… a lot of Jews there?"
Why would they ask that? Stupid.
"Not really." She poured her non-dairy creamer into her coffee and put the container back in the fridge before sitting at her desk.
How could they get back that evening a few days ago? When the two of them sat on the couch and talked like old friends? Would that sort of camaraderie only be the result of Cedric rescuing her from some creep?
"What is your grandmother like?" asked Luna.
"She's great," said Hermione. "She's Deaf, so I grew up learning sign language. Actually, we ran into some trouble here because Dominican Sign Language is closer to American Sign, which is close to French Sign."
Cedric tipped their head. "Were you born there?"
"That's right," she said. "We moved here when I was five and I have my citizenship and everything."
"Huh… Do you go back often?" they asked.
"We would go back to D.R. every winter," she continued. "I would hang around the kitchen with Abuela and she taught me how to bake. Of course, I didn't get good at it until adulthood. I would burn things, forget to grease pans, forget I was proofing dough…"
"These things take time," said Luna.
Hermione nodded and turned back to her Ask Sophie letters. She always did those first. Get the easy assignments out of the way. That was the most she had ever actually shared about herself. Most of the time she just rattled off what she knew about others. Hm… she knew sign language. Maybe she was Michael… but… she said she knew a different dialect. And Michael knew BSL.
"Cedric and I know sign," said Luna.
"Oh? Was a family member Deaf?"
"Mummy was," said Luna. "And I am in my right ear."
"Oh. I see. I feel like I should have known that."
She knew what happened to Aunt Dee. Luna didn't have to relive that moment.
"Well, now you do know," said Luna.
Cedric returned to their desk and Luna sat at faers. None of them got very far when the door opened and Mr. McLaggen entered with Mr. Amorian.
"Hello, everyone, may I have your attention?" asked Mr. Amorian despite already having it. "Where are the rest of you?"
"We're the only employees in this department," said Cedric. He was so forgetful.
"Ah, well, we will be doing some changes around here," said Mr. McLaggen. "As the world progresses, so must we to keep ourselves better hidden. There is discussion of adapting the Ministry with more muggle eckletricity as well as desk toppings."
Hermione's urge to correct him almost pushed Cedric to blurt out the correction themself.
"I have volunteered you three and myself for the trial," said Mr. McLaggen. "Therefore, I want you to take a few weeks off as that is when the Department of Muggle Artifact Adaptation will be adapting your office for these things. You may either work from home during those three weeks or you may bulk up articles until then."
"Remember," said Mr. Amorian. "I'm still deciding on my permanent replacement."
That bloody carrot. Cedric was starting to wonder if the carrot was really there or if they were being beaten with a stick this entire time.
Hermione raised a hand.
"Yes, Miss Granger?"
"How will this work exactly?" she said. "We're modernizing, but we'll only be able to communicate with you and each other?"
"It's just a trial to see if it will work," said Mr. McLaggen. "As I will be too busy to really do more than approve topics and assure the Muggle Artifact Department that it is working, perhaps we should assign one of you as interim editor. Mr. Amorian has final say, of course, but this could be a good test."
"As everything will be automated, does that mean fewer work hours as productivity increases?" Hermione asked.
"Why on Earth would you think that?"
Hermione stared at him blankly and made a note in shorthand on an empty post-it note on her desk.
"Right," he continued. "Once you three are updated I believe… yes you ladies please refer to Mr. Diggory as interim editor. Mr. Diggory, you will make sure the submission and editing systems work, then submit a physical copy of the articles to Mr. Amorian for a second look."
They basically edited their own articles anyway. Ugh, all this extra work for no real promotion or pay raise. At least Cedric was familiar with Muggle technology. They had once upon a time wanted to adapt it for wizard use, but that dream was squashed and they had never returned to it.
"Mrs. Potter, I want you to start researching programs for the art department to use should we decide to adapt the entire paper."
"Not a girl," said Luna.
"Have a good day all," said Mr. McLaggen, ignoring fae. "Oh, and Granger?"
She looked up hopefully. "Yes, sir?"
"I need you to pick up lunch for the office. The interns are busy on a more important assignment."
"And for that matter, when the time comes I'll need you to clear out my office," said Mr. Amorian. "Witches are just better at household spells."
The thought that intruded her mind was so dark it made both Cedric and Luna flinch. Hermione just smiled that polite smile of hers, though her pen had snapped in her hand.
"Sure. No problem. Oh dear, my pen broke," she laughed brightly. "It's just a day chock full of accidents, isn't it? Not to worry, I won't spill lunch. Can't have dozens of hangry employees, can we?"
"Indeed not. It's at the muggle sandwich place we typically order from. It will be ready for pick up at 11:30."
"Sure."
When they left, Hermione dropped her pen in the wastebasket and went to the sink to wash the ink off.
"What am I doing here?" she whispered. She sounded on the verge of tears.
Luna went over to her and rested a hand on her shoulder.
"Hermione?"
"I'm fine," she said, forcing a smile. "Why would I want more work with no pay increase anyway?"
She returned to her desk and got back to work. She was acting like nothing was wrong, but Cedric and Luna could sense the anguish and rage twisting inside of her.
Just before eleven, she stood up and smoothed her dress. "I'll be back."
Cedric stood, nearly knocking their chair over. "I'll go with you!"
She stared at them for a long moment. "Why?"
Because with as dark as your thoughts are, I'm terrified you'll purposely walk into oncoming traffic, they thought. They couldn't say it out loud and fumbled. "Er… you know… just… making sure you don't… get carried off by a large bird. You're so tiny."
"I've made it this long without being carried off," she said tiredly. "And I'm not that tiny."
Normally this was when they would start teasing her about her height, but that didn't seem like a very good idea. They hesitated on what to say next.
"Well," she sighed. "I could use the help carrying everything."
Cedric grabbed their coat and purse, then took Hermione's coat down and held it out to help her put it on. They weren't sure why they did that, but she didn't comment on it and just accepted the assistance.
"I've got the fort while you hunt for lunch," said Luna.
Cedric grinned at fae.
The sandwich place wasn't very far. At least, they didn't need to take the tube or a cab to it. Cedric didn't notice the cold for long, they warmed up quickly just trying to keep up with Hermione. They shouldn't have had any difficulty, they took one stride for every two she took, but they were puffing and struggling to keep up.
Her stilettos clacked menacingly on the ground, the crowd swerved to avoid her, and her frustration was a stinging presence. Maybe if she weren't being treated like an intern, she'd be okay, but Mr. McLaggen and Mr. Amorian were acting like she hadn't spent a decade in the industry learning everything she could about making a newspaper.
And Cedric couldn't even bring themself to be happy about the hint at a promotion. It felt like they only got it because they fit some idea the boss had about them. It wasn't that they were more qualified, they just didn't make as many waves.
Big mistake on their part and an old habit they should have broken a long time ago. They hadn't changed at all have they?
Hermione was almost as wrapped up in her own thoughts as they were. The crosswalk sign flashed, telling them they were free to start crossing, so she kept going. Despite this, a lime green sports car sped down the street towards them, paying no mind to their presence in the middle of the street and taking the red light as merely a suggestion.
"Watch it!" Cedric wrapped their arms around her middle and backpedaled.
The vehicle narrowly missed her and wailed on their horn as if she and Cedric were the ones in the wrong.
"GO TO HELL!" Cedric roared with a rude gesture, wishing they could throw a spell to ruin that pretty paint job or pop all their tires.
Hermione was stunned, so Cedric held her hand tightly and hurried to the other side of the street with her. They stopped next to the building on the corner, both shaking slightly from the adrenaline.
"Are you alright?" they asked.
"My life flashed before my eyes," she panted, blinked, and looked at them. "It was quite boring."
Cedric was stunned for a moment, then broke into a fit of laughter.
"We both know that's not true," they said.
It wasn't until they reached the sandwich shop that Cedric realized they'd been holding hands. Hermione let go when she stepped up to the counter.
"It's going to be another fifteen to twenty minutes," said the woman at the counter.
"But we scheduled for an 11:30 pick up," said Hermione.
"Yes, but part of the order had accidentally been given to someone else."
"Oh, I see. Very well." Hermione stuffed a couple bills into the tip jar.
"Why'd you tip them when they messed up?" asked Cedric.
"Because they're doing the best they can and this way they feel bad about the mix up," she reasoned.
"Ah."
She sat down on the bench at the front of the shop and took a book out of her purse. Cedric sat next to her, fidgeting with the ring around their forefinger. They should keep a book in their purse, too. It was a good idea and it wasn't like there wasn't any room.
It wasn't good that the food was going to be late. Would she get in trouble for it even though it wasn't her fault? Had Cedric been blind to how much she fought to be heard? And that car had been so close to hitting her. It could have killed her. What if they hadn't been there? Or had reacted just a second too slow?
And if she were gone—
Hermione rested a hand on their jiggling leg. Their heart lurched unexpectedly and they fell completely still.
"Calm down," she said, removing her hand to turn the page of her book. "We're fine, we can just apparate back to save time."
"Er, yeah." They returned to fidgeting with their ring. "Erm… Hermione?"
"Hm?"
"They don't know how lucky they are to have you."
"That's nice of you to say." She finally looked at them. "I'll get over it, but I think I might just do the bare minimum for a while. They only want Ask Sophie anyhow."
"You do give excellent advice." Cedric smiled. "I particularly liked the response you sent my dad when he submitted a letter complaining about my sudden change in attitude and new style of dress."
She furrowed her brow. "When was that?"
"Mm… about eight years ago?" they closed their eyes trying to picture the article. They had clipped it and saved it, but she didn't have to know that. "He wanted advice on 'how to get his son back' and you said something like… 'You can start with accepting the fact that he has likely always been this way, yet you elected to dismiss it as a 'phase'' or something along those lines."
Recognition sparked in her eyes. "Oh yeah! I never realized that was about you. Of course, we didn't really know each other then. You started working at the Daily Prophet a year after that and attended the monthly dinners when Luna and Harry got married. How'd he take the advice?"
"Not well," they sighed. "I stopped talking to him completely a short time after that, but I think about that article every now and then. And that side-note you put out to 'the unruly son': Keep being yourself. You're bound to find someone who accepts you."
She closed her book and leaned back. "I do give great advice. So why can't I take it?"
"Eh, you're stubborn." They tipped their head. "Do you… want to talk about why you're scared to be yourself?"
She stiffened and her walls shot up. "No."
"McLaggen order ready!"
Hermione stood and strode over to the counter. Cedric followed.
"And have some cookies," said the woman, sliding over a box. "Again, apologies for the mix-up."
"It happens."
Cedric helped her carry the bags, once outside she crammed the cookie box into her purse.
"Aren't those for the office?" they asked.
"Are what for the office?"
Cedric twitched an eyebrow and made no further comment as they headed back to the office and distributed the food to their coworkers. Cormac approached, clearly intending to dig the knife in deeper and Cedric had a sneaking suspicion that despite his general uselessness he was behind Hermione getting snubbed and treated this way. Shame on Mr. McLaggen for withholding any sort of promotion simply because Hermione refused to have anything to do with his nephew.
There wasn't any proof of that, of course, but the thought made Cedric furious.
"Hey, Granger—"
Cedric stepped between them and shoved the sandwich he ordered into his hand.
"Run back to your pen, little lamb," they growled.
Cormac went pale. They hadn't discussed that incident since it occurred, what, over sixteen? Seventeen years ago?, but it was clearly still fresh in the man's mind. It was the only time Cormac visited Rosehill Manor and had only asked to come along so he could mock and distract Cedric from their farm chores. A big mistake, as that day was when the local butcher had ordered some lamb and mutton when his supplies hadn't met demand.
And Cedric had been in a terrible mood following the Triwizard Tournament, which was made worse by the mockery and mansplaining, so the tears they normally shed when killing the animals hadn't come.
Evidently Cormac hadn't forgotten fainting into a pile of cow shit or the furious look Cedric sent his way when they pulled the trigger.
Cormac backed up into Shaylyn, who shoved him away from her. He didn't even react, just hurrying back to his own private office.
What Cormac didn't need to know was when he whined to his father about it and Cormac Sr. gave Father hell about it, Father retaliated against Cedric. Rather than get them back in line, Cedric launched themself into a new rebellious phase.
"What was that about?" asked Hermione after passing the last sandwich out.
"Don't worry about it," said Cedric sunnyly.
"Well… thanks for that anyway."
She meant it.
Cedric wasn't sure what caused the change between them, but there was something changing. And they were going to make sure they weren't a cause of grief for her anymore. They wanted to know what would make her laugh like she did when she learned the name of his tortoise. They wanted to know what would make her smile. A real one, not the polite one she always gave. They wanted to be someone she could trust. They wanted—
They wanted…