The Boy I Love -HEDRIC (2)

54.(C) obviously

CEDRIC

XCV

With his shoulder and head slumped against the back of the couch, he was clasping Harry's hand under his palm. Cedric felt the pressure as Harry placed the other one above his and the soft strokes he made on his skin as silence reigned. 

Cedric, who would usually fill any conversation…

He couldn't get a word out.

His mother was alive in another dimension.

How could it be...? Who would that Cedric be, without that indelible mark? 

Without the weight of her absence or the memories he fought to keep.

Here he missed her a lot, there she was the one who missed him…

Time was crueler than he could have imagined. 

XCVI

Crying in front of people was not something he used to indulge in.

Bright eyes and empathetic reactions? Nothing wrong with it.

A trail of tears slipping down his chin? Shameful. 

Cedric had already made an exception that day.

He would think a second was impossible, but he could see how hard Harry tried not to look at him. Due to the respectful privacy he offered, coupled with his soft comforting touches, Cedric didn't pretend to recover quickly and refrained from making any noise at all. 

And thought back to that night when his mother didn't return from work at the usual time.

His father had said that she must have had to work overtime. 

Cedric had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, inexplicable.

A sound at the door and Cedric knew it.

The following endless and torturous weeks were the only ones where he didn't mind being a walking disaster or worrying his father because it took about a month before he was eating regularly again. He then realized it was just the two of them, and he no longer wanted to be another cause of anguish to the man who cooked for his son every night. The one who no longer made silly jokes or smiled just because, but the one who arrived tired and sat next to his child to make sure he was okay. 

XCVII

Still slumped against the couch, it wasn't Cedric who spoke first.

"I shouldn't… I shouldn't have said it," Harry cleared his throat, sitting up tense and tightening his grip on Cedric. "I'm making an even bigger mess."

Cedric wiped his face with the sleeve of his robe. 

"I can make you forget it." 

He threw his head back at Harry's words, unintentionally pulling himself out of his grasp. "How?" Cedric questioned softly, his heart heavy. 

“I'm good with memory spells."

No. 

Cedric didn't want to subject himself to one of those.

One mistake and...

"When did you learn?" he muttered. "I've heard they're difficult."

Harry tilted his head, reflective. "I'm good at them," he repeated. "I wouldn't ruin your mind, Cedric."

He almost laughed, because he was already ruined on the inside. 

It wasn't that he thought Harry would do something wrong, actually.