ALOHOMORA | CEDRIC DIGGORY

35〝thirty-five〞

WHAT COULD HAVE POSSESSED HER to divulge such secrets, Ellis didn't know—and reckoned she might never find out—but she wasn't at all inclined to keep them anymore. She didn't care if it was going to lose the friend she had hardly made, or paint her image that was already so tainted even darker; she didn't care about any of the consequences anymore, it seemed. She just wanted to get them off her chest and shoulders.

Secrets were, after all, great burdens to bear.

Mouthing soundlessly, Cedric was obviously flabbergasted by the latest piece of news he had had to swallow, almost like he had choked on it instead.

"Does...does that...?" he sputtered.

He could not have worded it worse. Nevertheless, what he meant was clear as day to Ellis even without Legilimency. She nodded.

"He's my great-grandfather."

But for his face discoloring, Cedric exhibited no discernible reaction. He simply sat there, neglecting to speak, neglecting even to close his mouth, though thankfully not neglecting to breathe (it was so quiet she could hear both their respirations).

There and then, Ellis knew that this was it. Another time she didn't want to be right, but she was. She had proven herself correct, and the Baron wrong: he was nice and just and all that, but when push came to shove, it mattered what she did and who she was—especially who she was.

And that wasn't even the whole story.

An indefinable pang spread inside her, aching all the way from her throat to the pit of her stomach. She didn't know what it was—not truly or fully, by any extent—but took it as a sign to leave. Easing off her armchair so that she didn't disturb Cedric's legs, Ellis got to her feet and headed toward the exit.

"Where are you going?"

Cedric had stood up; she saw it out of the corner of her eye. He sounded bewildered.

"Away," said Ellis, neither stopping in her tracks nor looking in his direction.

"Why?" Cedric was now crossing the room from the front side of the armchairs.

Ellis snorted. Only he could have the nerve to ask why under such plain circumstances.

"Why? You can't possibly still want to be..." Ellis cast about her brain for the precise term, but vocabulary failed her. With the advantage of longer legs, Cedric had reached the door first and planted himself between it and Ellis. Stymied, she settled for whatever came to mind. "...around me, after what I've told you," she said sheepishly.

"But I do," protested Cedric. "It's a lot to take—yes—and I'll admit, I don't think I've my head all wrapped around it yet (and perhaps not for some time), but that doesn't change anything. Well, besides the fact that I just got to know you a whole lot better."

As much as Ellis wanted to believe him—and she really did—the whisperings of her deep-seated mistrust were difficult to overthrow. It was already instinct for her to be doubtful.

"Do you want to look into my mind to find out for yourself?" Cedric asked.

"No!" said Ellis defensively, stung by this. "I...I don't...I don't like to use my—it! I don't want to use it, not like that! I..."

Flustered, Ellis was fuchsia, pacing, and incoherent. Recognizing he had caused undue panic, Cedric hurried to remedy the damage.

"Hey, I'm sorry," he said, striding alongside her but she kept turning her back on him, "I didn't mean it like that. I just want you to know that I'm serious when I say this doesn't change anything."

Something did change, however. Ellis halted, rather abruptly, and faced him—his chest, to be exact.

"And I just want you to know that I'm serious when I say I won't poke my nose into your head ever again."

Afraid that she might back out of her attempt, she had said this very fast, albeit very softly. There was no need to mention that she was severely embarrassed by her actions.

"All right," said Cedric; Ellis raised her gaze slightly to peek at him—he was smiling at her. "I'll go ahead and be honest: That's the least of my concerns. But if it means that much to you—and I think it does—I'm taking your word for it. All right?"

"All right..."

"All right."

Giggles slipped through Ellis' teeth.

"Also," piped up Cedric, "you forgot your dragon books."

His head jerked toward the coffee table, where her Slytherin scarf was perched atop glossy spines that read Men Who Love Dragons Too Much and From Egg to Inferno: a Dragon-Keeper's Guide in block boldface letters. But seeing them only made Ellis aware that she no longer had the impulse to disappear from the room.

"Right," she said, though not walking toward them.

"That's if...you still want to go?"

Peering up at him, Ellis found Cedric's hands jammed into the pockets of his slacks, not unlike after Christmas lunch. Was this his go-to nervous pose? She played it cool.

"Do you not want me to?"

"I do owe you an equivalent for that 'long story' you told me."

"I suppose you do," she agreed, and Cedric beamed.

As they settled back into their armchairs, Cedric withdrew his wand and performed the Refilling Charm: orange waves of pumpkin juice rose within their goblets until they were full again. Knocking back a swig of the ice-cold beverage, Ellis had to admit—magic had its perks.

In the end, Cedric revealed little else about himself, except that he was an only child, but spared no effort to share anecdotes of how his parents met.

Christine Palmer, a bubbly Hufflepuff—from whom Ellis guessed Cedric had inherited most (but not all) of his traits—was the one who wooed Amos Diggory, a haughty bespectacled Ravenclaw. Apparently, she had fancied him since their schooling days, but, in spite of all his wits and "Outstandings," Mr. Diggory was "too swollen-headed" to appreciate her advances until a colleague at the office opened his eye to them. Amelia Bones was a fellow newbie at the Ministry, and just so happened to be one of Christine's close friends who had grown thoroughly annoyed by his ignorance (she was also Cedric's godmother).

"Dad still claims he was just 'waiting for the right time' to ask Mom out, but Amelia insists that if she hadn't intervened and match-made them, I won't be here."

"What does your mom think?" said Ellis interestedly.

"She doesn't tend to go against Dad, but when it comes to this, she's on Amelia's side, just because it really gets under his skin—he's a bit of a know-it-all sometimes, so he really can't stand them thinking he was so oblivious, and for so long."

"And you?"

"Let's just say my mom isn't the one who's usually bragging." Cedric laughed.

"I can just see where you get it all from, Diggory," mused Ellis.

"Get what?"

"Your...qualities."

English certainly wasn't her friend today. Ellis tried not to cringe, but had no control over going red.

"My qualities?" teased Cedric, but she merely shrugged, and by Merlin's grace, Cedric didn't harp on about it. Instead, he said, "You can call me Cedric, by the way. Can I call you Ellis?" he added, seemingly as a hopeful afterthought.

"What else would you call me?"

"Well, 'you'?"

"Oh, no."