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It was the night before we went back to school, and we were laying on the roof of Cedric's childhood home on a bright, winter's starry night.

For moments there was silence, and I would glance over at my boyfriend who contently viewed the stars as the moment captivated him. We had both allowed ourselves these moments of deep reflection with the comfort of our nearby touches of warmth.

"You've never mentioned your family," Cedric remarked, and I felt myself shiver enough to have fallen from the tiles of the roof.

I choked on my words, "There's not much to say."

Cedric responded with a short "Oh", a realisation that he had touched upon a sensitive subject; treading on thin waters, I took a deep breath in and began to speak.

"I never knew my father, my mother told me she didn't know him either, but I knew that wasn't true. I think I remember him as a child, I'm not too sure." my words were scattered, dry and empty, and I felt vulnerable, and I felt cold.

Cedric tried to apologise, but I told him he did nothing wrong. Then he shrugged with a lack of words and pulled me slightly closer. I didn't feel like I loved him, it was mainly stabbing at that moment.

"Then she died, and I never had the chance to ask her if she lied. But it's been a long time." too long, I was long overdue some motherly advice.

Cedric, someone who had been blessed with a loving and happy family, said all he could, "Maybe your father will try and reach out to you one day."

"Don't you think it's a little too late for that?" I snapped. I felt the grit of my teeth, the knives in my words and the starkness of my anger. Maybe Cedric would have snapped back if his mother didn't poke her head out the window and call us for dinner.

Then there was tension. Sharp, crisp and drowning tension as we quietly ate our dinner. We had never properly fought before - was it even a fight? I felt so paralysed by this question almost as it mattered. All that mattered was that I should love Cedric, but all I could feel was numbness, blind numbness.

Eventually, we apologised to each other, for lack of words and impatience, for emotion and humanity. It seemed like by apologising we made a bigger deal out of something so small.

"Are you looking for something?" Cedric had sat opposite me in the library, our usual study date. We had been there for twenty minutes, and this was the first word we had spoken.

I had been aimlessly dotting my eyes around the desk. "No, don't worry."

We didn't speak another word after. The vitality that cradled our bittersweet love affair had been drained, almost like we had indulged in too much of it and this was the comedown, the hangover.

Though despite this dullness that loomed, we were had been the most physical we had been in a while. There was a conscious effort made to hold hands, hand around the waist, arms linked, leaning against each other. When our friends were around, we were conjoined but barely even spoke a word. Not the silent whispers we used to share like we were the only alive people in the room; now we seemed like the only ones who weren't.

Harriet still picked up on it. She pulled me away from a focused conversation in the Common Room and into our respective dorms.

"What the hell is going on with you and Cedric?" I attempted to act like nothing was wrong, but Harriet was no fool.

I breathed heavily, "I opened up about my family."

"And? Surely that's a good thing?"

I snapped at Harriet as I snapped at Cedric. I took a frustration from a loss I never treated and spilt it on the unfortunate onlooker. "No, it's not!"

Misunderstood | Cedric DiggoryWhere stories live. Discover now