Little Talks | Fred Weasley x Cedric Diggory

Nine.

What Cedric had said refused to leave his mind.

Fred had spent the first couple days following the conversation just trying to forget about it. He wanted to ignore it, pretend it had never happened, maybe even convince himself Cedric was joking. But Cedric wouldn't joke about something so important, so meaningful. He made jokes to impress Fred sometimes. They weren't always very good, but Fred always laughed anyway. Naturally, that laugh was usually followed by some playful advice on how to improve his wit. This time wasn't like that. It was genuine. Cedric wanted nothing more than to see Fred happy. That had been true in his lifetime and was still true now.

When forgetting was no longer an option, he tried to use his imagination.

He tried to picture someone else living through all those memories with him.

Asking someone else to the yule ball, a bouquet of flowers in his hands, big smile on his face. The mystery person is shocked and starts grinning with him. They pull him into an embrace, but when they release him and take a step backward, their face is replaced by Cedric's.

Going to the dance with a different date, waiting for them by the stairs. He's standing there in his plain robes. That's when they show up, looking exceptionally handsome in their specially tailored suit. Arms are linked. Fred looks over at another couple for only a moment. His attention is called back. It's Cedric, gazing at him, telling him it's time for the champions to line up together.

Sitting together in the Three Broomsticks, two glasses of Butterbeer placed next to one another on the table. He's laughing and reaching for his drink. Once he's got it, he holds it out to clink, shooting a playful grin over at the boy across from him. They knock glasses and lift them to their lips. Fred's vision is obscured; when the butterbeer is set back down, Cedric is seated across from him, blushing.

Standing in the spot by the lake, hands holding the others face. This time it's not a different boy. Fred can't imagine standing in this spot with anyone else. Cedric is looking back at him, grey eyes wide and curious. Fred grabs hold of his arms and tells him he loves him. They kiss, melting into each other. Fred holds onto Cedric as if he's afraid he'll never hold him again.

Imagining someone else was impossible.

No one else had that smile. Those eyes. That dimple.

Except that last part wasn't entirely accurate.

Fred's memory was just failing him.

It became his obsession. He couldn't focus on anything else. A second spent trying to pay attention to McGonagall was intruded on by the thought of moving on. He sat there, aggressively tapping his foot on the floor, watching countless faces morph into Cedric's.

It felt hopeless, pathetic. And it got to him.

The moment class ended, Fred rushed out, telling George that he would meet up again with him later.

He pushed past the masses of students, squeezing past the groups of girls clumped together in conversation. He moved fast and got some people to stare after him long after he was away from them. But he didn't care about any of them. Not at all.

The nearest escape was a bathroom. Shoving the door open, he moved briskly to the sinks and dropped his bags, running his fingers through his hair in quick, erratic motions. A hand shifts to turn on the faucet. Water comes cascading down. He feels his breathing getting heavy again, just as it had in the dormitory on the first night back. Water is tossed onto his face, repeatedly.