Whenever she got sad, there was 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲.
And on the other hand, whenever he got sad, there was 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫.
Until they discovered something that only required both of them in the same room -- nothing else.
𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧, 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 �...
A soft, chilly breeze blew through the open halls of Hogwarts, drifting through the small number of students that walked about the halls in thick coats and knitted scarves. It travelled across the trees in the open space in the middle, leaving sounds of rustling leaves and occasional steps to be the only sounds that filled the campus during the fine, Saturday afternoon.
The wind danced around freely, carrying specs of dust and debris everywhere it went. Along with that, it brought a particular scent to Clementia—delivering an Autumn-like smell directly to her nose.
A warm mix of firewood and grass. Autumn.
Even in a cold day, he smelt like a bundle of warmth. To Clementia, this was not a foreign experience at all. If anything, she was more than used to this—having been through it more than a hundred times or more; she never really felt the need to count.
She never really felt the need to count how many times he arrived like Autumn—walking into her life like a season filled with comfort, crackling fire, and a warm cup of pumpkin spice latte.
But there was a downside to this season. Like any other maple leaf on a tree, she fell, slowly and slowly to the rock hard ground, having no defiance of gravity whenever he came around.
But in her case, Autumn was a person—not a cozy season.
And this person seemed to lack admiration for the fallen leaf—instead, he found joy in stepping on it and hearing it crunch below his foot.
"What do you want?" Clementia let out a huff, looking bluntly at the person in front of her. The wind rushed through the sandy strands of her newly-cut hair, resting right above her shoulder.
"You deserve an explanation." Cedric said, his hands buried in the pockets of his brown coat.
"Oh, you think so?" She scoffed, looking at him in disbelief.
There they were, standing at the open space in between the corridors. Cedric approached Clementia earlier and invited her to talk, thinking it would be best to end their relationship on good terms. In the hurt girl's perspective, however, there was nothing left to talk about.
Maple leaves never really ask for justification after being crushed.
But Cedric Diggory—Autumn in human form—begged to differ.
Cedric looked at her tired eyes, still captivating enough for him to get lost in them, but they weren't as gleeful as they were before. They didn't glimmer at the sight of him, not even a single spark.
