Happy Thanksgiving to anyone who celebrates! I'm posting another chapter in celebration of Turkey Day and the fact that I will be in a food coma for the entire weekend. I am so thankful to all of you for continuing to read this story and for leaving such lovely reviews to support me as I write it. You all are the best, truly!

Wikked: Welcome! And thanks for the review! Cedric has really grown on me in the span of this fanfic, honestly. I may have made a mistake there LOL. Also, George is smug because he's the only one Nessa doesn't gripe at for using her full name :).

AstarothZyran: Thanks for reviewing! It was an interesting chapter to write, for sure. The poor girl. She could use some R&R. Enjoy this chapter!

Bookcozy: Love triangles also make me a little leery, honestly, but I'm glad the way it comes across in this story isn't horribly annoying. I think in a lot of cases that I've hated the love triangle aspect is how long it's drawn out or how unrealistically it all plays out. But the ANGST. I'm living for it at this point LOL. Nessa will get some relaxing chapters soon. She really does deserve it at this point.

readerfaye: Lupin is my favorite marauder…I just love him. Murton will certainly get what's coming to her. Such a horrible thing to do to someone and absolutely extremely dangerous. This chapter has much more Cedric for you! It is my mistake that I think I love him a little now too. If only we could all be as smooth as he is…

Chapter Thirteen

The common room was empty when they returned. She was feeling better by the time they'd made it back up, but the numbness and emotional exhaustion was setting in. She'd said very little on the way back and George and Tori didn't seem to want to press her too hard about anything. She was grateful for that, but also hated the tension between them all because of her fragile mental state.

George shuffled her to the couch in front of the fire and sat down next to her. Tori took the large armchair she normally sat in and set Nessa's bag down with a soft thud. They sat in silence, throwing her worried glances as she stared into the fire and watched it crackle and spit around the logs. At some point, Fred came back, forcing a mug of hot chocolate into her hands, and wrapping her fingers solidly around it. He also said nothing as he moved to the armchair, shifting Tori so that they could sit relatively comfortably side by side.

The hot chocolate did help with her throat. It was warm and familiar and soothing. It helped relax her some more and she sank into the couch cushions. She wasn't sure how long they all sat there, saying absolutely nothing, but eventually, George removed the mug from her grasp and set it on the table in front of her.

"Better?" he said quietly.

She looked over at him. Fred and Tori had fallen asleep in the armchair next to them. She smiled a little at the sight of them, even though her heart hurt a little that they hadn't gone up to the dorms. It would have been more comfortable, she was sure, but there probably wasn't any chance of convincing them to leave her down here.

"Yes," she said, fighting against a yawn of her own.

He sensed it anyway and pulled the red and gold throw off the back of the couch and motioned for her to lay down. She didn't even attempt to protest. Her body was so heavy and she wanted to forget about this nightmare altogether. The oblivion she'd get in sleep was more tempting than the hot chocolate had been. She sighed heavily when he removed her shoes and set them on the floor underneath the table.

To her surprise, he toed off his own and laid next to her, shifting her back into the cushions to make room.

"Alicia —"

"I'll take care of it," was all he said.

His tone was no nonsense and she was still too exhausted to argue, so she didn't. He was warm anyway and the scent of him was calming. Neither of them closed their eyes to sleep though. She was too afraid of the darkness, even though it would feel so nice to sleep and her body wanted it more than she'd ever wanted anything. George seemed to be waiting for her to drift off before he would attempt to sleep himself.

The familiar warmth in her chest that was usually present around him flared a little through her numbness. They were on such shaky terms, but he was still as steady as he'd always been when she needed him to be. She couldn't tell if she loved him or hated him for that.

"How did you find me?" she said before she could devolve into her swooning over him.

"Tori wanted a snack after practice," he said quietly. "We were waiting for you to see if you wanted to come with us, but when you didn't come back before curfew, she got worried, so Fred got the map out. We thought it was weird that you weren't moving at all, so we went to check."

Such a specific scenario. If Tori hadn't wanted to eat, would she have gone straight to bed? To shower? If she did wait up and hadn't known her half as well as she did, would she have thought it at all odd that she hadn't returned before curfew? Could she have gotten distracted working on an essay or playing Exploding Snap with the twins? If the map didn't exist at all, would anyone ever have found her?

There was so much that could have gone wrong that would have changed the outcome.

"Don't think like that, love. Everything is fine. You're safe."

She looked at him in confusion. She hadn't said anything.

"How did you know what I was thinking?"

He smiled knowingly.

"You have very expressive eyes," he said.

He just said things like that as if it was such a casual thing. It confused her.

"Tell me what happened," he said when she said nothing.

She tensed because she really wasn't sure she wanted to say anything about what had happened. It seemed sort of self explanatory, didn't it? Reliving the whole thing made her want to vomit. She just wanted to forget the entire thing had even happened at all. But he was looking at her so calmly that she could almost feel it seeping into her own body.

He was so good at managing his own emotions for her sake. What must it be like to be so…confident? Put together? She couldn't even remember the last time she had been so calm.

"She heard us talking on Halloween," she said. He winced. "And she's still pissed at me for saying something about Tori, so they cornered me outside of the library. I guess it was too good an opportunity to pass up."

The rest seemed fairly obvious to her, so she'd leave it out. He could extrapolate whatever he wanted from that information.

"She could have killed you," he said harshly. "She could have —"

"I shouldn't have put my wand in my bag."

There was a spark of anger in his eyes at these words and he reached out to force her to look at him when she attempted to look away.

"Don't even think about blaming yourself for this, Vanessa," he said, voice hard. "There is no excuse for what she did. There's a big difference between defending someone and this. You didn't do anything wrong. I don't care where you put your wand or if you hexed her when her back was turned or if you kicked her puppy —"

"I'd never kick a puppy," she said indignantly.

George rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched for the first time that evening.

"That's not really the point, love," he said. "Promise me you know this isn't your fault."

She did. For the most part anyway. Logically speaking, she was not in control of the way others chose to behave. Personally speaking, she did not think that there was anything that anyone could have done to her that would have prompted her to lock them in a trunk. For a plethora of reasons.

"Promise me, Vanessa."

She huffed.

"I promise, you prat."

He smirked at her, but seemed to accept the answer all the same.

"Good, now go to sleep," he said firmly. He raised an eyebrow when she bit her lip. "What?"

"I — it was dark in there and I just — I don't want to close my eyes."

It felt stupid to say out loud. There was a difference between the sort of oppressive darkness that she'd been trapped in and the one that she could control by opening and closing her eyes. She tried to find some sort of calm in the knowledge that she would have all of the control in the scenario, but it made about as much difference as trying to think in that trunk.

"Tell me what you need."

It was the second time he'd said that to her tonight. It was such a simple thing, but it was loaded with so much meaning that it made her eyes burn. He'd almost never assumed that he knew what she needed more than she did. Most people would have. Most people would have tried to rationalize or tell her she was overthinking things or have said something stupid like 'you're safe' or 'everything is okay' as if these were things she didn't already know herself. As if she wasn't already running through every rational thought in her head a hundred times and trying to make her body's anxious response match with her brain's rationalizations.

George was not most people, though. He let her explain how it felt for her without judgment, didn't make her feel like it was harder on him than it was her, never made any attempts to overwhelm her with what he thought would help. Never told her she was overreacting or being dramatic. But he also didn't shy away from helping her even when he didn't totally understand.

It softened a piece of the ice that she'd guarded herself with around him since Alicia.

She jumped a little when he wiped a tear from her cheek.

"I — Can you just talk to me?" she said, feeling awkward about the suggestion. She was not accustomed to asking for help from other people.

"About what?"

"I don't know," she said honestly with a soft sigh. "Anything. Just talk to me about the shop or Quidditch or something."

So he did.

She had no idea what he was talking to her about at all. Something about Ireland and Bulgaria playing so well they were likely going to go to the World Cup next year. Something else about the Bulgarian Seeker and then moving on to his opinion that he was the only worthwhile player on the team. Complaints about Puddlemere United playing so poorly, despite the fact that they had such a strong team.

She didn't even bother interrupting or asking any questions because she'd have no idea what to even ask at this point. He didn't seem to mind anyway and was pausing to explain some things to her anyway, but otherwise seemed content to just keep going on about the game as if he had not a care in the world.

When she closed her eyes, the panic was still there, but he shifted a little and rubbed her side comfortingly without breaking his current spiel about how Ron was daft for supporting the Chudley Cannons. His voice was strong and calm as it normally was and she forced her breaths to match his own to calm her racing heart. Eventually, the panic subsided and she relaxed, allowing the sound of his voice and the heaviness of her limbs pull her into sleep.

-o0o-

Alicia had not, in fact, been very happy to find out that George had slept with her on the couch. Not that Vanessa really blamed her. She wasn't sure how comfortable she'd have been knowing her boyfriend had slept with another girl in the same bed. Unless maybe the other girl was Tori.

Even after George's explanation of what had happened, Alicia still was not happy, but she had asked Nessa if she needed anything, which Nessa supposed was at least better than she could have hoped for. Maybe even a slight improvement.

George, for his part, held his own. Nessa could see in his body language that he didn't want to argue — on the contrary, he looked as if the arguing was causing him a great deal of pain and exhaustion — but he refused to let Alicia convince him he'd done anything wrong in supporting her. Alicia hadn't taken well to his adamant refusal to apologize and had looked as if he'd slapped her when he told her under no uncertain terms that any negative feelings she had about Nessa, she should keep to herself because he wasn't interested in hearing them. If she had a problem with Nessa, then she had a problem with him, and he was tired of pretending it didn't bother him just to keep her happy.

"It's about bloody time," Fred had muttered to a smug looking Tori.

Nessa had not actually seen George so frustrated before —- although he looked like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders after having confronted Alicia about it —- and being privy to another of their arguments would have been horribly awkward except that she was still feeling numb and exhausted the next day and couldn't muster up the courage to care much.

She'd skipped classes to avoid seeing Murton and refused every attempt that her friends made to get her to confess what had happened to McGonagall. They were all of the opinion that Murton deserved to be punished to some degree, if not expelled entirely.

Nessa didn't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she'd gotten to her and also didn't have it in her to fight anymore. The twins and Tori had made some kind of excuse to Harry about why she was so out of it — something or other about being stressed about end of semester exams. If he didn't buy it, he didn't have a moment to press because Hermione had immediately empathized with this and gone into some tangent about all of the homework she had still to complete. Ron and Harry had abruptly changed the subject to avoid the impending meltdown.

Tori and the twins had refused to go to classes if she didn't, so Katie Bell had had to retrieve their notes and homework. Since she and Tori were on such good terms because of her position as reserve Chaser on the Quidditch team, Katie had done so with little questions. Lee Jordan took care of homework for the twins, although neither of them seemed terribly concerned one way or the other.

When Friday rolled around, she was still not feeling particularly up to going to classes, so she'd skipped again. She'd had some anxiety about not showing to DADA after she'd said something to Professor Lupin because she didn't want him to think she was avoiding him, but the larger anxiety of seeing Murton had won out in the end. Again, the twins and Tori refused to leave her side and made every effort to distract her from the events earlier in the week. She'd seen the three of them whispering conspiratorially on several occasions when she'd worked on essays to get out of speaking to them, but she was too exhausted to care.

As Friday night rolled around, she remembered that she'd had plans to meet with Cedric at the pitch. She'd nearly chosen to cancel because the idea of putting on a fake face and pretending to be okay would be exhausting, but if she didn't go, he would surely ask why. She didn't have the energy to explain it again. And part of her didn't want to give Murton the kind of satisfaction of knowing that she'd upset her so much that Nessa couldn't even live her life anymore.

So, reluctantly, she'd told her friends that she would be meeting with Cedric and told them she didn't need them to be hovering around her. They'd acquiesced, albeit reluctantly, and she'd had to find a spell that would help in growing her fingernails back. She'd also refused to go to Madam Pomfrey — for the same reason she refused to go to McGonagall — and then got ready to go to the pitch. Luckily for her, it was December, so she was forced to dress warmly, which helped hide the bruises still on her forearms and knees from pushing so roughly against the trunk. There was nothing she could do about the bandage on her hand, however. Neither Tori or Fred would allow her to remove it so early and the bruises underneath were horrid enough that she hadn't argued.

She decided to borrow mittens from Tori instead and hoped there wouldn't be any reason she'd need to take them off. Grabbing her coat and her toque, she left to make her way down to the pitch. She wasn't as anxious as she'd expected to be, although the numbness was still an ever present pressure, so maybe she just wasn't capable of feeling that way at the moment. Maybe if she fell off the broom somehow, it would kickstart her brain into feeling other emotions again.

Cedric was already there, giving some kind of last minute speech to the Hufflepuff team before they filed out to the locker rooms. Most of them eyed the two of them strangely as they exited, but she hardly noticed. Cedric was grinning at her, and his face was slightly pink from the icy wind, holding a broom she assumed was his. The nerves were coming back.

Maybe she should have put more consideration into canceling and telling him what had happened with Murton instead. Two panic attacks in a week was probably her worst nightmare.

"You alright?"

She jumped and realized he was standing directly in front of her, his brows furrowed in concern. He must have said something to her.

"Yeah, sorry," she said, shaking her head and eyeing the broom he had wearily. "Just regretting my life choices."

He laughed and the sound of it made her relax a little. It was an hour tops of her life and then she never had to get on another broom if she didn't want to. She could handle an hour.

"Relax, gorgeous, you'll be fine. We'll start simple."

She hesitated in grabbing his hand and letting him lead her away from the hoops on the field. He didn't say so, but she was certain it was because if she actually did get herself into the air, adding obstacles into the mix would be far more dangerous.

Thankfully, the weather was nicer than it had been in recent weeks. There was no rain or snow, at least, even if the sky was an overcast looking gray.

"I think we'll skip the part where you tell the broom to come into your hand, yes?" he grinned at her. She refrained from rolling her eyes. "Just hold it in your right hand."

Her uninjured hand thankfully. She reached out hesitantly to hold onto the handle and tried not to panic at the thrum of power she could feel underneath her fingers. She had no idea what kind of broom it was — she wasn't that familiar with the makes and models of brooms — but she knew it wasn't as new as Harry's had been, although it was in very good condition.

He reached out and placed a gloved hand over her own, forcing her to grasp the handle tighter.

"Try not to shake too much," he advised, grinning at her scoff. "A little is fine, but you don't want to be too in your head before you fly. It makes it harder to control the broom."

"By harder to control, I assume you mean that it will fly out of my hand and into an unsuspecting Hufflepuff."

"Not entirely," he said, eyes sparkling. "I'm not unsuspecting. I've prepared myself for just such an occasion." She snorted and hit him on the arm with the back of her free hand in reproach, hiding her wince at the sting that was still present there. He chuckled. "Only joking. You might fall off, but I doubt you'll hit me."

"Keep it up and I'm going to leave you out here."

He winked at her, but continued anyway.

He made several jokes, but he was very serious about making sure she knew what she was doing. Which was good because if she got any inkling he wasn't taking this seriously, she was going to make a run for it. Mounting the broom was absolutely the most anxious she was the entire time, but he kept talking to her to distract her from the thoughts in her head. Asking her questions so that she was forced to respond — her favorite color, her favorite food, her first pet. It did help some, she supposed, because the broom definitely did not fly out from underneath her like it had when Hooch had been teaching her.

"Slide your hands closer to each other, one directly in front of the other. Good. Now push off the ground lightly and hover a few inches off the ground." He laughed at her wide-eyed expression. "You're doing fine. I'll grab on if it gets too out of hand."

"That's very comforting," she said sarcastically.

"Fine. I'll catch you if you fall, then," he said charmingly.

She could tell just by the look in his eyes that he'd intended for that to be taken in more than one way and she attempted to ignore the warmth in her cheeks.

"I don't think you're supposed to be flirting with your student," she said with an eye roll.

He grinned at her.

"After, then," he said with a raised eyebrow. "Now, channel some of that Gryffindor spirit, Potter."

She sighed a long breath and tried to convince herself that she was going to be fine. They taught first-years these things, for God's sake. Surely, she could handle it. And Cedric was right there in front of her, watching her about as closely as she would have watched a toddler walking down the stairs for the first time.

If she fell off, she was going to kick him.

She took another breath, closed her eyes, and pushed off as lightly as she dared. Which was not much, but it did lift her off the ground. Instinctively, her body swayed in a frantic attempt to keep her balance. The broom did not seem to like this much and it spun upside down. She screamed and let go of the broom, falling hard on her back on the cold ground.

She huffed and tried not to scream in frustration. It was always something with a broom, wasn't it?

Opening her eyes, the broom was still hovering above her and Cedric was still standing in front of it, hand over his mouth to keep himself from laughing out loud. She glared at him.

"Don't you dare laugh."

He held up his free hand as she climbed to her feet, and she resisted the urge to pout as he tried to keep himself from laughing. Eventually, he looked up at the sky, grinning widely.

"Okay, well, that was…interesting," he said, his voice shaking from the effort to control himself.

"I'm getting sick of you, you know," she said seriously.

He cleared his throat and looked back down at her, eyes still filled with laughter and she huffed at him again.

"Let's try that again. But this time don't panic when you lift off."

She refrained from making a sarcastic comeback and grumbled under her breath about how she'd 'show him panic'. He was laughing silently again because she could see his shoulders shaking, and she wasn't sure if it was because of her grumbling or still from her having fallen off, but she ignored him.

Another deep breath and a reminder that she had not died, which was a good sign, and she kicked off again. She tried to fight her body's urge to panic, but Cedric's hands shot out to grab her waist before she could flail again, holding her steady.

She glared at him.

"You couldn't have done that the last time?"

"In my defense, I thought the broom was going to fly out from under you again. I wasn't prepared for you to flip over."

She scoffed at the cheekiness in his tone.

"Your confidence in me makes my heart warm, Cedric, thank you."

He snorted.

"Happy to help," he said, nudging her sides and forcing her to sit straighter, pushing one of her hands back so that they were over the top of each other again. "Okay, sit like that. I'm going to let go. Just hover like that." He removed his hands from her waist slowly as if expecting her to panic again. A part of her wanted to. It felt weird to be so unsteady, ungrounded. "Okay, good. Now lean forward a little and touch back down."

She heaved a sigh of relief as her feet hit the ground again. Okay, that part was easy.

"I think I prefer landing," she said honestly. He laughed again and waved his hand in her direction.

"Okay, go again."

He made her do it over and over until he no longer had to hold her steady when she pushed off the ground. It hadn't been horrible she supposed, but her heart was still racing every time she kicked off and she still had a strong preference for being on the ground. She told him as much when he asked her how she was feeling.

"So, no chance of me convincing you to go higher, then?" he said with a grin.

She gave him a hard look.

"No, there is not, so don't even try."

He sighed in an exaggeratedly morose kind of way.

"Alright, fine. Let me show you one last thing then, and then you can go back inside."

She sighed a little in relief. Both at being able to get off this broom and the thought of the warmth inside the castle. She could barely feel her fingers even through her mittens and she hadn't been able to feel her nose since she'd fallen the first time.

"Scoot up a little," he said, walking around her.

In hindsight, she should have seriously considered why he would have been asking her to do that when he'd been very adamant about how to sit on a broom at the beginning of the lesson. It was because she trusted him that she hardly questioned at all and did as he asked.

Before she had any idea what was happening, he'd swung his leg over, wrapped his arms around her to rest over her own, and kicked off hard. She screamed instinctively when they shot upward and the wind rushed around her face.

She was grateful he had caged her in with his arms because her immediate instinct had been to shoot forward to try to get closer to the ground and close her eyes so she didn't have to see herself soaring higher.

She couldn't see but the wind stopped whipping around her so much, so she assumed he was hovering to let her adjust. She didn't want to open her eyes either, but she could feel him laughing behind her.

"I am going to kill you," she said weakly.

"You said you trust me?" he said, a smile evident in his voice.

"Yes, but look where that got me," she said angrily, still keeping her eyes squeezed shut and pretending she didn't notice that her feet were dangling.

"Open your eyes," he said, laughing. She shook her head frantically. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her back so that she was flush against him. Under normal circumstances, she would have been overthinking the hell out of that action. But if it kept her from falling off this broom, she couldn't care less what he was doing. At least he was warm. "I won't let you fall, gorgeous. Open your eyes."

She opened one eye and then closed it again immediately.

"Okay, there you go," she said and he huffed a laugh behind her. "I saw everything."

"Hardly," he said dryly. "Open your eyes and just don't look down."

Don't look down. Right. She could do that. Don't look down.

She opened one eye again and then the other and let out a long breath. Her heart was racing and her face was cold from the wind, but she wasn't panicking. Whether that was because of how calm he was or because she was actually able to rationalize most of her anxiety, she couldn't tell. Likely the former.

He didn't move at all as she adjusted, which she was thankful for. She was far outside of her comfort zone and any sudden movement would likely send her spiraling.

But it was beautiful up here. She could see the tops of the trees in the forest and Hagrid's hut in the distance. The castle windows were flickering from the lanterns inside and the courtyard was covered in christmas tinsel and fairy lights. The Black Lake was nearly shimmering from this high and she could see the reflection of the castle and the Whomping Willow within it.

Even in the dead of winter, it was beautiful. She could only imagine how nice it looked in the spring or fall.

"You alright?" he said, gently.

She was still going to kill him for this, but she was suddenly not nearly as afraid or irritated by the suddenness of this endeavor. And, honestly, if he hadn't done it, she was one hundred percent certain, she wouldn't have ever agreed to go this high, no matter how many lessons he gave her.

She nodded weakly, trying to follow his advice and not look down, even though her brain was adamantly yelling at her to do so. He readjusted her hands and covered them with his own.

"Okay, now keep your hands in that spot and lean forward, but don't push down on the broom."

She took a deep breath and leaned only her chest forward. She screamed immediately when the broom shot forward faster than he'd likely intended. She shot backward into him, but his hands over hers prevented her from letting go completely. He was laughing, but guided her to pull her hands up on the handle slowly so that they came to a gradual stop.

"Okay, let's try that again," he said calmly as if she hadn't just nearly risked flying them into one of the goalposts. "The further you lean forward, the faster you're going to move."

This time, he pressed forward with his own chest so that she was forced to lean forward to accommodate the movement. This time they moved forward at a snail's pace. Her hands tightened reflexively on the handle, but she didn't push down. She didn't know what would happen if she did, but she wasn't particularly concerned about finding out.

He leaned forward some more and the speed increased a little. She inhaled sharply through her nose, but managed to keep most of her anxiety to herself.

"To stop, you pull up on the handle. The harder you pull, the faster you'll stop."

She pulled up a little and the broom slowed. She exhaled in relief.

"To land, you'll lean forward and press down on the handle," he said calmly, but he used his arm to pull her back before she could do what he'd said. "Not yet. Do you trust me?"

"I don't think I should be answering that question with you anymore," she joked.

He laughed and ran a thumb soothingly over the back of her hand.

"Is that a yes?"

She closed her eyes and resisted the urge to ask what he was planning, but at least he was asking before he did it this time.

"Yes, but if you let me die, I'll never forgive you."

Her breath hitched when he brushed his lips against her cheek, grinning widely.

"I won't. Hold on tight."

He laughed at how seriously she took this command, but she hardly had time to gripe at him because before she could say anything, he leaned forward so that they were nearly flat against the handle. She screamed at how fast they shot forward. The landscape blurred around her and her heart was pounding, wind whipping almost painfully against her face, but his hands were steady as they moved.

When they reached the other end of the pitch in what felt like a millisecond, he leaned his body to the side, tilting the broom a little and she snapped her eyes closed at the change in their balance before the broom straightened again and they were moving forward again. She kept her eyes closed for a while as he went around and around the pitch, but eventually she opened her eyes again and relaxed a little.

The entire thing had started out as one of the things that gave her a great deal of anxiety, but she could sort of see why the experience would be cathartic. There was nothing really in her head at the moment, not a single concern (not including her concern for falling) or problem to overthink. The numbness she'd felt earlier had all but faded now that she was up here. The world and her problems seemed so much smaller at this height.

He clearly knew what he was doing and she relaxed a little, even if she could barely feel her legs anymore. She let him fly them around without much complaint until the sun was starting to set and it was getting darker and colder.

"Close your eyes," Cedric said, coming to a stop. "I don't think you'll enjoy landing."

She didn't ask any questions and squeezed her eyes shut. She tried to smother the scream in her throat as he leaned forward and pushed down on her hands, so that they tilted forward, shooting directly for the ground. She tried not to think about how much closer they were getting to the ground or how much it would hurt if he didn't pull up in time.

The concern was useless. He pulled up and she felt the jerk that resulted from his feet touching solid ground. He was much taller than her, so even though his feet were flat and firm on the ground, her feet were still skimming the grass.

He dismounted and grinned at her when he noticed.

"That's very cute," he said warmly. She blushed and huffed at him. He smiled wider and helped her off the broom.

She may have been grateful that he'd convinced her to get on the broom, but her body clearly had not taken the hint. Her legs felt like jelly when she stood and she had a brief moment of concern that they wouldn't hold her up completely.

"You did great," Cedric said as if sensing some of her trepidation still.

"I'll take your word for it," she snorted.

"And you stopped screaming, so it couldn't have been so bad," he said playfully.

She gave him a playful shove and rolled her eyes.

"You could have warned me what you were going to do."

"I don't think that would have made much difference," he said dryly. "Besides, you would have come up with a hundred reasons not to do it if I had."

"How sweet," she said sarcastically.

"If you'd asked, I would have come back down immediately."

His tone and face were sincere. Openly honest. And she'd known he would have. It was a risky move on his part — maybe even a little mean — but she'd never assumed he'd done it to frighten her. Just push her a little outside her comfort zone.

"I know you would have," she said, smiling at him softly.

He stared at her a minute, looking thoughtful. There was a sort of softness to his expression as he was looking at her that she couldn't quite place. He almost looked a little hesitant when he took a step forward. She couldn't place the air around the two of them, but she fought the urge to avoid eye contact anyway as he stepped toward her.

She was opening her mouth to ask what was wrong, but he stepped closer again and said, "Don't panic."

"What —"

And then he was kissing her.

She tensed in surprise, but he didn't push. When she didn't immediately pull away, he wrapped a hand around her waist and pulled her into him. She had no idea what she was doing. With her hands, with her mouth, with anything. She could barely think, really, because her heart was racing and her stomach lurched, but she didn't pull away.

He didn't seem at all bothered by her obvious inexperience and she took her cues from him, trying not to get too in her head about the whole thing. His face was cold against hers, his lips a little chapped from the cold air, but the kiss was soft and he was holding her gently, even as he took control of the kiss.

It was…nice. Warm. Sweet.

He was sweet to her. He was attractive. She liked him.

But he wasn't George.

She gasped as the thought entered her mind and took a hasty step backward, bringing her gloved hand to rest at her throat as she stared at him in surprise.

"I'm sorry, I —" she was panting a little. From the kiss. From surprise. From panic. She couldn't tell anymore.

"No, I shouldn't have —"

"No, no, it's fine," she rushed out. It wasn't his fault. She didn't want him to think it was his fault. "You — I mean, that was — it was good."

It had been. Not earth shattering or mind altering, but he was a good kisser. She'd enjoyed it, really, but she knew how she felt and even if George never returned the feeling, it wasn't fair to Cedric for her to pretend that she didn't feel something for someone else.

At least at the moment. Maybe if whatever she had with George faded or turned out to never be anything, it could be different. But right now it just…wasn't. She was still far too invested in someone else and Cedric was too good to lie to.

"What's wrong?" he said, stepping toward her again, looking concerned.

"I — I don't —" she took a shaky breath. How did she even explain something so stupidly complicated to someone else, when she could barely explain it to herself? "I'm so sorry. It's just that I — I mean, it's complicated, but I have feelings for someone else."

He looked at her for a moment. She couldn't tell by his expression what he was thinking or feeling and she waited for him to say something, anything that would clue her in to where he was at. If he was angry, she likely deserved it. She'd let him flirt with her. She'd let him kiss her. He deserved to be angry.

"Weasley," he said finally.

Her eyes widened.

"I — how did you —"

He shot her a self-deprecating smile.

"I noticed the way you two were acting that day I asked you to tutor me in Potions," he said. "I mean, I wasn't entirely sure, but I thought for a moment that there might have been something going on."

"God, Cedric, I'm sorry," she said, trying not to cry at how stupidly complicated it all felt. Here she was with this guy who clearly was interested in her, and she was putting an end to…whatever this was because of a guy who clearly wasn't. "There's nothing going on with me and him, but I — I mean, I want there to be and that's not fair to you. I didn't mean to lead you on or — I mean, I do like you. You're sweet to me, and kind, and patient, and attractive and I did want to see what would happen with us, but I — I can't pretend like I don't fancy him."

His expression softened a little and he sighed. She could see the flare of disappointment in his face now and it made her heart hurt a little. She hated hurting other people.

"It's okay, Nessa," he said finally, smiling at her a little sadly.

"I — what?"

He laughed a little.

"I mean, I won't pretend like I'm not a little disappointed or anything," he said gently. "But I appreciate you being honest with me. And, you know, it helps that you think I'm attractive."

She smacked him on the chest, laughing lightly, a weary form of relief filling her at the fact that he was at least able to still joke with her.

"Be serious," she said with an eye roll.

"I am," he grinned. "Look, I get it. You can't help who you have feelings for. And you didn't lead me on if you were really interested. It just…isn't the right time."

"You're really not mad at me?" she said softly.

He laughed softly and she relaxed a little more.

"No, I'm really not," he said. All men should be this good at accepting rejection, in Nessa's opinion. It sort of felt like a dream at this point. When he pulled her in for a hug, she went willingly. "Besides, I sort of need you to keep teaching me Potions." He laughed when she huffed and made to pull away, but his hold tightened. "Kidding. I'm kidding," he laughed. "We're still friends, Nessa. I'm okay with that if you are."

She blew out a long breath and nodded against him.

"I am. Thank you for being —- thank you." she said. There were no words to describe how grateful she was for him right now.

"You're welcome," he said, pulling back and moving to grab his broom. He placed a hand on the small of her back and pushed her in the direction of the castle. "Although, you know where to find me if Weasley ends up too stupid to realize how lucky he is."

She smiled at him.

"I'll keep that in mind," she said, laughing lightly.

"You know, unless you want to stick it to Weasley somehow. I can help with that too."

She huffed and pushed him away from her. Men were so stupid. He laughed loudly.

"I'm getting sick of you again."

He threw an arm around her shoulder.

"Be careful, Potter, or I'll tell everyone about how you flipped yourself over on your broom today."

"I'll never forgive you if you do that."

He grinned widely as they stepped into the warmth of the entrance hall.

"Lies, gorgeous. I'm too attractive to stay mad at, you said."

"I did not say that!" she said indignantly, but the words pulled a surprised laugh out of her anyway.

"That's how I heard it," he shrugged, face carefully serious. She rolled her eyes. "I'll see you Wednesday?" She nodded and let him pull her into another hug. "Good night, Nessa."

"Good night, Cedric."

-o0o-

Oh, Nessa.

I can't make Cedric a bad guy. Can't do it. I never really liked him much in the books, but I can't make myself make him a jerk, knowing full well what happens to the poor guy. Plus, I don't know, I might have made him way too swoony in this fanfic to hate him now.

Everyone appears to like the Nessa/Cedric dynamic, but don't worry…he's not gone yet. I have grown attached to their dynamic as well. Entirely by accident, truth be told, but just ugh. I'm a masochist, so he'll still be here for the long haul.

I'll see you all this weekend with another update! Be safe and enjoy the holiday if you celebrate!