A/N JK Rowling made Cedric a snappy dresser. I thought he might like a break over the holidays
Harry slapped a hand over his mouth and choked cola all over it. He buried his face in the crook of his elbow and coughed, wheezing to catch his breath. Cola droplets splattered the floor like something with fizzy brown blood was being murdered messily above. Cedric looked askance at him, then his eyes narrowed in understanding.
"Ginny," said Hermione, nodding thoughtfully.
Cedric beamed at her charmingly.
"Oh you're good," Hermione continued, adding her best simper. "You know my name," she said with mock wonderment. Hermione didn't see Cedrics smile falter, then quirk back, because she looked down, away from the sight that was starting to torment her just a little bit.
Maybe it was the way that just about everything about him needed to be touched up the teensiest bit to make it neat. From the hair that curled behind one ear, but over the other, the collar that was ironed flat on one side and stuck out over the sweater vest compared to the other that was slightly curled under and in, not to mention the shirttail that was sticking out like an invitation.
Wait, she berated herself, you did that. She took a deep breath and stopped cataloguing the irritations and fixed the little ones. Brushing deft fingers behind his ear and straightening the material either side of his neck, she looked him dead in the eye and smiled serenely.
"Maybe next time," she purred, dragging his collar methodically tighter around his neck. His adams apple bobbed against her fingers.
"Next time…?" His day old scruff grazed the flesh under her thumb and her reply came out more vehement that she'd intended.
"You could get it right." She stepped away and snatched up the Skelefix and retrieved the club, turning her back to hide her annoyance. "That's just rude," she muttered under her breath, slamming the club back into the golf bag and covering the sound of Cedric rising from his seat. He paused to tuck himself in and free his neck a little. Harry retreated, still hacking into his hand and quite unable to save his peer, even if he deserved it.
Hermione opened the medicine cabinet and stretched up to tuck the Skelefix and Arnica back on to the top shelf. She had to hang on to the kitchen counter with the other hand and teeter on the toes of one foot to manage the feat. Sure hands caught her above the waist as she almost overbalanced and she slammed the cabinet door accidentally hard. She cringed against the sound echoing around the room.
"I could have done that," Cedric chided smoothly, "you only had to ask…" he captured his tongue between his teeth to stop the rest of the sentence 'short stuff' from escaping.
Hermione spluttered with laughter, "I can't imagine that I would ask you for anything." She turned to face him, his hands still cupped loosely about her, only to spot Harry beating a swift retreat. Now there was someone who deserved a thick ear, fancy leaving her with him. She growled at the perceived betrayal.
"I've been known to be extremely helpful," he said with a trace of hurt in his voice, he sighed, "and of course I owe you an apology. I know who you are, I mean," he shrugged, "who doesn't?"
She stared up at him, her hands finding a natural resting place against the diamonds and crosses on his sweater vest. It has started to pill from over laundering and her fingers twitched against it, a bobble found its way between the pads of her forefinger and thumb. He sounded so believable, but the twinkle in his eye was rankling her.
"Uh huh," she prompted, sceptically. "And my name is?"
"Your name is…" he drew out, infinitesimally closing the distance between them and dropping his chin. Hermione was mesmerised for a second by his lips parting directly above hers. The cutting edges of his teeth were shockingly white, or perhaps his lips were shockingly red. And thanks to her parents dental-centric occupation, maybe she had a thing for noticing teeth.
"…is…" he whispered. His lashes swept low over his cheekbones.
'Mint,' whispered in Hermiones head and the enticing suggestion, 'taste me'
"Hermione?" called Ginny from the stairs. Her voice was incredulous and perhaps a tad envious.
"Hermione," he confirmed with a nod and a laugh, ducking closer.
"A little space…" she demanded, shoving him away, more than aware that she had been played and now Ginny was going to think that she was playing right along with him. He moved back a step reluctantly.
Molly appeared right behind Ginny and smiled widely. "Cedric," she crowed, bolting down the stairs and rushing towards him arms wide. "It's so lovely to see you," she fussed. "You look so thin, stay for dinner? Of course you will," she answered for him, hugging him to within an inch of his life. He held his arms wide of her, gritting his teeth against the ache in his ribs, before patting her comfortably on the shoulders. "The boys are all here," she carried on, releasing him and taking up residence in front of the cooker, "somewhere," she muttered distracted. She whipped an enormous casserole out from the oven which strangely coincided with the Twins appearance as well as a red-faced Ron and Harry herding him towards the table.
"Diggory," chorused the Twins in unison
Cedric acknowledged them with a grin. "Fred, George. Up for a little sport later lads?" he offered, watching from the corner of his eye as Ginny pulled Hermione off to one side.
"I should co-co," came the united response.
"Fred, no George, no Fred," said Molly, trying to decide which twin was behind her. "Get the wine and George," she directed, "just pour the cheese sauce over the cauliflower and set it on the table." Molly hefted the casserole dish over to the table pursued by a handful of serving spoons. "Girls," Molly called. George circled the melee, holding a decanter of sloshing red liquid above his head and stepped precariously towards the table.
Arthur barrelled through the door, "I'll have that," he said, liberating the decanter and sliding the stopper out to give the contents a thorough sniff. "Aaah, just in time," he said, shrugging out of his coat before it flew across the room and added itself to the already overburdened coat hooks.
Cedric swivelled on his heels, the girls were heads together and there was a whole lot of hissing going on. Hermione had her arms crossed and a stubborn look marred an otherwise attractive face. He didn't remember her catching his eye before. It might be the Muggle clothing, spray on jeans and a pale pink V-neck hoodie under denim that made the annoyance staining her cheeks more vivid somehow.
"Have a good day dear?" Molly squeaked as her husband caught her about the waist and nom nommed her neck.
"The amnesty is turning up all sorts of things," he replied. "I brought an enchanted bird bath back with me because the storeroom is full."
Cedric looked away from their easy relationship and his face morphed into an unintended frown before settling his eyes on the girls again for distraction. Arthur set the wine on the table and ambled over to the kitchen sink to wash his hands. "Good to see you again H, Harry," he called. "Cedric, what brings you here?" Hermiones head lifted from Ginnys to stare at Cedric quite openly.
"Girls!" Molly called again. Ginny gave her best teen grunt and threw her hands up in mock despair.
Cedric startled out of his reflection of his own parents relationship, "oh, errr, it's about the World Cup." Over the twins singing the rude version of the 'The Fields of Athenry', he continued, "Dads arranged a Portkey on the top of Stoatshead Hill for us, I mean for you too, all of us," he clarified, atypically stumbling over his words. Hermiones suddenly knowing attention was doing his concentration no good at all.
"Sit, sit," urged Molly over the chorus of cheers.
"Only two days to go," Arthur rubbed his hands enthusiastically and settled at the head of the table. He drew off the lid of the casserole and stirred it suspiciously whilst the rest of the diners stirred themselves to join him. "Smells delicious," he announced. "What's in it?"
"Meat," said Molly firmly, handing him the first plate.
0.0
The mutton stew was delicious and Hermione mopped up the last of the thick juice with mash to clean her plate. She sat between Harry and Ron, occasionally jostled unintentionally by one or both of them, but if she thought about it, it would be to recognise that most of it was coming from Harry who was normally a meticulously neat eater.
She half listened to the older boys bantering and blagging about stats and odds and injuries to the various Quidditch teams. There was a lot of talk about wagering, but no-one seemed to want to put their money where their mouth was and Hermione eventually put it all down to bragging rights.
She ran a few numbers through her head and waved a waggly hand at them to temper the odds for the more trustworthy news articles that The Prophet ran. If there was anything that rag reported remotely truthfully, it would be on the back three pages dedicated to sport; moreover if anyone offered 5-2 for Ireland to win the final with Krum for snitch, she might just bite their hand off.
Ron leaned back in his chair, hands rubbing at his stomach so distended that it poked out above his jeans. "I'm stuffed," he moaned.
"Ugh, put it away," Hermione grumbled. She elbowed Harry, "Tell him."
Harry didn't respond, his neck was bright red and seemed to be having trouble breathing. He was also staring slack jawed at Ginny, who had her face shielded by one hand so that her Mother couldn't see the mischief written all over it. Hermione spared a glance around the table, to see who else might be watching, only to catch Cedric swiftly averting his gaze. He looked down and shifted his placemat a millimetre to the left before rejoining the Quidditch conversation. She made herself look away, back to the electricity between Harry and Ginny.
Hermione slouched in her chair, easing under the table a little and slipped off her shoe. Startling Ginny might not be a good idea and she didn't want to rat her friend out. She aimed a toe in her direction and caught her friends ankle almost immediately. Hermione scanned her face anxiously, but Ginny didn't bat an eye.
Hermione, pushed her toe cautiously up her friends shin to draw her attention, maybe she couldn't feel it through the denim. Cedric placed both palms flat on the table and stared at her curiously. She stared coolly back, desperate not to give her friend away in company and poked a toe as stealthily as she could under the inside of Ginnys knee. Beside Hermione, Harry shook like someone had dowsed him in ice water.
Mollys chair grated against the stone floor. She lifted the plate from under Rons nose, nodding meaningfully towards him and Ron bumped Hermiones shoulder in turn, "pass your plate," he grumbled. Ginny pushed her chair back and braced her hands on the table. Hermione stared first in surprise at the younger girl rising to help her Mother, then with a knotty, sinking feeling in her stomach, she realised that she was wearing a plaid skirt and leggings.
Under the table a warm hand took a firm grip on her heel and a square cut fingernail edged under the ribbing of her sock.
Harry stuffed a napkin over his lap before resting both fists on the table, sweat beaded under his hairline. Hermione crushed hers into a ball as her sock was peeled painfully slowly past the knobbly bit of her ankle bone.
Molly called over, "I hope you all left room for afters," rummaging in the fridge.
"I'd love some," Cedric uttered quietly.
A finger slipped either side of her heel inside the sock and brushed against her skin. The grip on her heel loosened and irrevocably, she and her sock began to part company. She scrunched her toes to hold onto the woolly material and above them, a firm thigh flexed in sympathy. Cedrics lips quirked a small smile.
"You can have custard, ice-cream or squirty ceam with it," said Arthur, setting down the choices as Molly sliced into the dish and doled out servings, then dallied by the coffee maker, tweaking and prodding buttons until it started to gurgle alarmingly.
"Yum," groaned Ron
"I thought you were full?" Queried Hermione harshly, careful not to catch Mollys eye, or come to think of it now in this instant, Ginnys either. Glancing across the table was a definite no-no. She rearranged herself that she was sitting with her newly bare foot under her and as far away from him as possible, without actually leaving the table. Pie, once the pink pachyderm in the refrigerator had paled into insignificance in the light of daylight sock theft.
"I am," he confirmed, stretching obscenely, "but it's pie," said Ron, as if that explained everything. He passed her a generously filled bowl that she passed on to Harry, willing her hands not to shake as her big toe replayed over and again, the pressure of a playful tweak.
0.0
Harry excused himself at the first opportunity and Molly drew the girls into the sitting room, leaving Arthur and the boys to clear and wash up. Talk had moved on to the Twins latest escapade into the world of big business with the catchy title of The Potion of Random Effects. Apparently the idea was to open a type of Casino, the entry fee would be a galleon and a dose of the cordial. They had already lined up premises just off Diagon Alley and were ironing out the final details with the local agents.
Mollly sat and began without preamble, "speaking of protection, I think we've done that one to death."
"Nice pie, Mum," winked Ginny.
"I thought so dear," Molly continued as if she had not interrupted. "Now, we need to have a little chat about etiquette. Ginny, if you would like to demonstrate, just your face mind?"
Hermione fidgeted uncomfortably, "is this what you did before?" she asked.
Ginny nodded and closed her eyes whilst her facial features and hairstyle altered itself drastically. Molly annotated the change as Hermione watched in awe. "There is age as counted by a Muggle and there is age as counted by Magic. 'Showing oneself' she finger quoted is something that you do when you are ready to be serious and I mean really serious with a partner." There was no need to elaborate further. They had been having these little chats for about 18 months now and Mollys no-nonsense approach to whole thing had reduced the mortification to a level that Hermione could at least cope with, even if it was a subject that she had no interest in. She ranked it alongside learning about the magical factions within the government, oddly fascinating if you are that way inclined, but for now, somewhat distant of purpose.
Ginny smiled in her new face, eyes sharp and twinkling as she caught sight of a figure just outside the window that drew swiftly back out of sight. "I think the boys have finished," she said jumping up.
"Any questions," Molly left hanging
"Err," started Hermione.
Molly waved at her youngest, "put that away and you can join the boys."
Ginny grimaced sweetly and allowed her distinctive features to resurrect themselves. She sauntered back out into the kitchen, closing the door carefully behind her.
"Everyone does it," said Molly, trying to explain. "A great deal of the magical world is hidden from you at this point remember and not all of it is as fluffy as Hogwarts would have you believe. There are reasons that we keep our true selves hidden, many to do with masking our ability in the event that we have to prove ourselves in combat." Hermione frowned and Molly continued. "Think of it as the ace up your sleeve that no-one knows about, except of course for your nearest and dearest. Some people make a sport of seeing how many they can unmask." Molly winked and Hermione immediately thought of the uncommonly irritating visitor next door.
"Consider it an accolade if you like," mused Molly, "if you find yourself pursued, but make sure your first thoughts are to your own protection and," she finished firmly, "the long game."
"How does hiding it help?" asked Hermione, completely confused.
"The greater your magical ability, the older your 'other' face appears. It's not just your face that ages too. Wielding magic takes a certain toll on the body," Molly added wistfully. "If we continue to practise, we pass young in Muggle terms."
"Can you make someone do it?" asked Hermione
"You can, if they allow it," said Molly thoughtfully, "but I would have to question their motives in not offering first or agreeing if asked, should you find yourself in that delicate situation. It's not something you take no for an answer for if everything is above board. Here, I'll show you how," and with that, she whisked out her wand and pointed it at Hermiones chest.
0.0
Hermione spotted Arthur hastily passing his cigar to Cedric when she and Molly reappeared. He winked at her conspiratorially as Cedric took up the fat cheroot and let it burn propped up in his fingers with an expertise that suggested the accessory was not entirely foreign to him. An odd taint of liquorice swirled in the air with the smoke and Hermione waved a hand through it and wrinkled her nose. Cedric tapped the cigar and left it burning on the edge of an ashtray, he flicked his gaze between her and his cards as she circled the table to take up a position behind him. He was one card short of a royal flush. He fanned his cards wider as if to show her and then snapped them shut again when she absently put a hand on the back of his chair in passing.
His hair needed a trim, she thought, the ducks arse at the back had grown out and brushed his collar. If that had been Ron, it would have been a race between her and Molly for the scissors. She had only ever really seen Cedric from at a distance at school, but he was normally immaculately presented with just the knot of his tie a little loose. Hermione put her hands behind her and leant against the dresser whilst she considered Mollys recent explanation, especially the part about sex as a sport.
It was odd that they had not run into each other earlier, given how friendly he seemed to be with boys, but then maybe not given the difference in Houses and age. He was, after all, a rare Hufflepuff in a room full of Gryffindors.
She read the other players for a bit of respite from her musings. Harry was too intense, not a contender, or more likely, he was avoiding Ginny propped up on the matching dresser across the other side of the room from him. Ron was too smug, low straight she guessed. The Twins sat opposite one another and were harder to read, they were focused and the dance of their eyebrows reminded Hermione of semaphore. Arthurs relaxed pose suggested that he was playing for fun, but she had learnt that his questioning about the Muggle world was most insatiable when his tone was at its most innocuous.
Cedric glanced at the failing light at the windows just as he turned up the missing Queen. Hermione waited for him to announce his position and collect the winnings but he simply slotted the new card into the correct place, sighed happily and then folded his hand to a chorus of groans from the other players. His fingers beat 'shave and a haircut' on the table top. Two bits were added by the Twins slapping their hands of cards face down on the table in turn, completing what appeared to be a tradition of sorts between them.
"I need to be getting back, it's getting late."
"What did you have Ced?" asked Ron and scowled when Fred kicked him under the table.
Cedric smiled and pushed back from the table, he offered his hand to Arthur. "Thank you for dinner, Sir. See you at Seven a.m. Please pass my thanks to Mrs Weasley." He nodded to the other players, saying, "lads," before his gaze lingered on Hermione.
The pot remained intact and there was a chorus of "Diggory" from the assembly as Fred collected the cards, including Cedrics face down. No-one looked at them and a swift shuffle obliterated the winning streak.
Cedric cleared his throat and his hand made it half way to his hair before he turned it into a sweeping gesture.
"Walk me out?" Cedric said to Hermione. She frowned and glanced at Ginny, perhaps he would return her sock. The younger girl shrugged and took Cedrics place, grinning as Harry angled his chair so that Ron was directly in line with his sister.
Cedric paused just outside the back door, leaving barely enough room for Hermione to squeeze out. As it was the door knob caught her on the behind when it closed and she had to put a hand on his hip to move him out the way to give herself enough room. He focused on her hand for the moment that she touched him and she dropped it self-consciously. She forced herself to bite the apology on her tongue in half since it was his fault, not her misdemeanour, sort of. Colour flooded her face and she was thankful that he looked distracted, shrugging into his coat and shovelling a hand through his hair when he rounded on her. "Listen, I really am sorry about earlier, the name thing, but you…" he said earnestly.
"It's fine," she lied, uncomfortable under his scrutiny, even in the near dark and grappling with how to ask for her sock back without making a complete idiot of herself.
The doorway was filling with the subtle tang of liquorice, smoke and leather. Never having smoked before, she suddenly gained an insight into the whole, 'I don't know what to do with my hands' feeling, or at least the 'a cigarette would stop me putting my hands where they don't belong,' feeling. She had an insane urge to raid his pockets for her sock and damn the consequences.
Ron would have let her. No, she corrected herself, Ron wouldn't have taken it. She started again, she wouldn't have been playing footsie with Ron in the first place. Oh Gawd, she suddenly thought, maybe Cedric didn't have it at all. A Twin? An 'Ew' pulled her lips into a dolly-bag moue.
"No hard feelings?" Cedric offered his hand, cocking his head curiously. She gave it a boyz n' da hood shake, briefly wrapping her fingers around his thumb, before knocking his palm with the backs of her knuckles and tucked both hands safely away, under her armpits.
"Oh, errr…Muggle thing right?" he chuckled, eyebrows climbing and nodding a little while he fiddled awkwardly with the double tab zipper on his flying jacket. She shifted, annoyed that he was still managing to annoy her by proximity, the lack of sock references and maybe about the Muggle comment. Eventually he managed to get the zipper edges to match and tugged the top tab barely up at all.
"Yeah, so, I guess I'll see you on the Hill?" he stepped away and gave a half wave with two fingers posed like a benediction, "don't be late!" The odd feeling of wanting to rub her shoulders across the brickwork made her fidget and ball her hands into fists. She had been fine up until today. Maybe it was something in the gravy.
She watched his back as far as the edge of the lawn, then hurried inside to retrieve to the wood iron. If there was one way to clear the feeling of whatever it was from her system, hitting something was bound to help.
The back door clicked again as she returned armed and dangerous. The new bird table tried to follow her across the lawn until she threatened it with a club. She was in no mood to be trifled with, especially after Ginnys enquiring glance at her lone bare ankle. Clearly there was an expectation that he would merely breathe on her and she would roll over…or curl up at the edges, or something.
Hermione found that tactile memory is an unenviable foe when it came to concentration. A gnome planting thistles, aka 'the rib incident,' became a bad parody of the 'It's only a flesh wound' scene from her Mothers favourite Monty Python film. An uneven line of toadstools resulting from her being forced to pursue an injured quarry up the garden was labelled 'cupboard gate.'
A cool breeze kissed her bare skin while she hunted for a net, a decapitation had landed in the ornamental pond when she had noticed a figure in the reeds turn and slope away. If Molly was fortunate, Hermione thought, crashing about in the shed, she might just need to clear the entire colony.
A/N 'The Fields of Athenry,' is an Irish folk ballad sung at rugby matches by supporters when an Irish team play. Shave and a hair cut, two bits is a seven note riff common as an ending in bluegrass/folk music. I know it from the film, "Who framed Roger Rabbit."
Next post date is on my profile. The answer to the chapter 2 question is the main ingredient in the pie in this one. Cosmo is involved. C'mon down to my level, I'll get a ladder.