𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎. fred weasley

𝚡𝚡𝚒𝚒𝚒. 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚜

     Her eyes are blue and wide with fright, so wide and so scared and he brings her in for an embrace, crying into her shoulder, her hair. He grasps onto her and he thinks that he's never felt anything like this, wonders if perhaps this is what fear is. He finds that he doesn't like it too much, wants the venomous poison to leave his system so he doesn't have to feel like his lungs are clogged up with tar – so he doesn't have to feel like his heart has stopped beating in his chest.

     He holds her, and he apologizes, and he lets his mum chew him out for being irresponsible because he deserves it. He should have been more careful, he shouldn't have let her out of his sight. When she suggested crossing, he should have said no, should have escorted her back to the house where Mum would have been waiting with lemonade and treacle tarts. He had been an idiot.

     But he's grateful for her safety. He tells her this and he apologizes, over and over again until she tells him to shut up in that petulant voice of hers and shoves a treacle tart in his face. His heart beats a little easier at the angry sneer on her face, ineffective with her chubby six-year-old cheeks and wide eyes, and he hopes that he never feels like that again. Doesn't want to experience the heart wrenching emotion that keeps him up at night with clenched fists and wet eyes, a scream choked up in his throat as he wakes in the middle of the night in pitch blackness.

     Gradually it gets better as he matures, the nightmares of his sister going under until there's nothing left but an empty space she occupied fade away until there's nothing there, but Cedric will never forget that year – the year his sister, Crescent, was almost lost to him.

✦✧✦

     Cedric stares at the fire, eyes worn tired and hair a mess on his head, and feels hopeless. There's a kink in his neck and a knot in his back from sleeping on it wrong. His head is pounding with a migraine, his eyes stinging with the pain from it. He sighs out, watches the flames dance with each other in a fiery tango and closes his eyes, leaning his head back.

     Hamlin grips his hand tightly. "Alright, Ced?"

     Cedric doesn't even have to open his eyes to know that Hamlin is gazing at him with concerned eyes, brown irises probably swimming with worry right about now. It makes his heart dance contentedly in his chest, warm and cozy at the thought of his boyfriend. Cedric doesn't deserve Hamlin.

     "Yeah," he says quietly, hopes it doesn't sound like the feeble lie he knows Hamlin will catch onto.

     Which, he does. Hamlin pokes his cheek and assaults it until Cedric is forced to open his eyes with a small grin. He takes Hamlin's hand and sets both of theirs in his lap. Hamlin grins softly and Cedric doesn't think he'll ever get used to the way he's aware of his heart thumping madly in his chest like a rabbit who has too much energy. It's like, before, Cedric had felt it, but he chocked it up to his feeling for someone else, allowed it to be masked over by someone else's face. And now, he sees — really truly sees — Hamlin and Hamlin sees him (has always seen him) and they've finally figured it out.

     And it's still a little hesitant, Hamlin still unsure even after months of them trying to figure everything out and Cedric still wallowing in the self-guilt that follows him around everywhere as he thinks about the forlorn expression on Hamlin's face, the heartbroken look in his eyes as Cedric pulled away from the kiss. But, it's them and they'll find a solution because what they have isn't something you give up on.

     "What're you thinking about?" asks Hamlin curiously, playing with Cedric's fingers and staring at him with earnest eyes.

     Cedric bites his lips to contain a smile. "Just the second task," he replies, voice soft, almost a whisper as he looks at Hamlin.