Work Text:
Harry's POV
Valentine’s Day at Hogwarts was, Harry decided, a form of psychological warfare. It started at breakfast. He’d walked into the Great Hall expecting toast and maybe a peaceful argument from Ron about whether treacle tart counted as a breakfast food. Instead, the ceiling rained pink confetti hearts. Every suit of armor had been charmed to hum romantic ballads. Someone had enchanted the candles to drip rose-scented wax. And there were girls. So many girls. Harry barely made it to his seat before a third-year Hufflepuff shoved a handwritten poem into his hands and fled squealing with her friends. Ron snorted into his pumpkin juice. “Blimey. You’ve got admirers.”
Harry eyed the poem like it might explode. “I fought a basilisk. This is worse.”
Hermione looked up from her book with visible amusement. “It’s Valentine’s Day, Harry. People are allowed to fancy you.”
“Yes, but why all at once?”
As though summoned by fate itself, three more girls approached the Gryffindor table clutching pink envelopes.
Harry stood immediately.
“Nope.”
“Harry—”
Too late. He grabbed his bag and escaped while Ron dissolved into laughter behind him. Unfortunately, fleeing only made things worse. By lunchtime, someone had apparently spread the rumor that Harry Potter was giving out signed Valentine cards. He had no idea where it started, but it resulted in packs of giggling students ambushing him in corridors. He hid in the library for an hour until Madam Pince kicked him out for “breathing too loudly.” He tried the owlery, but two Ravenclaws found him there. He attempted to barricade himself in an unused classroom, only for Peeves to announce his location to half the castle. By evening, Harry was disheveled, sweating, and genuinely considering whether voluntarily entering the Forbidden Forest might be easier. Which was how he ended up sprinting down a corridor near the Charms classroom while a gaggle of fifth-year girls chased after him.
“Harry!”
“Just one question!”
“Can you sign my parchment?”
“Please stop running!”
“I AM NOT RUNNING,” Harry yelled back desperately, “I AM EVACUATING.”
He rounded a corner too quickly and slammed directly into someone solid. Strong hands caught his shoulders before he could fall flat on the stone floor.
“Whoa there.”
Harry looked up. Cedric Diggory. Perfect hair. Warm gray eyes. Tall enough that Harry had to tilt his head slightly upward. Looking unfairly handsome in the soft torchlight like he’d stepped out of one of Lavender Brown’s dramatic daydreams.
“Oh,” Harry said intelligently.
Cedric smiled a little. “You alright?”
The sound of approaching footsteps echoed around the corridor. Harry’s panic reignited instantly. Without thinking, he grabbed the front of Cedric’s robes. “Can you pretend to be my boyfriend for a minute?” The words hit the air. Harry froze. Cedric blinked once. Behind them came the unmistakable noise of excited girls turning the corner. And then Cedric’s expression shifted. Not confusion. Not awkwardness. Something almost delighted flickered across his face. “Yeah,” he said immediately.
Before Harry could process that answer, Cedric stepped forward, backed Harry gently against the wall, and kissed him. Harry’s brain stopped functioning. Completely. Cedric’s hand slid to Harry’s waist, steady and warm through the fabric of his robes. The other pressed lightly beside Harry’s head against the stone wall. His lips were soft, confident, and very real. Very, very real.
The girls rounded the corner.
“Oh my god—”
“Is that—”
“Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory?!”
Harry made a strangled noise into the kiss. Cedric, absolute menace that he apparently was, only deepened it slightly. Not aggressively. Just enough to make it convincing. Harry’s knees nearly gave out. The corridor exploded into scandalized whispering.
“Since when are they dating?”
“That’s actually adorable.”
“I KNEW IT.”
One girl squealed loud enough to wake the dead. Harry wanted to evaporate. Cedric pulled back only slightly, close enough that Harry could still feel his breath. “Think they bought it?” he murmured. Harry stared at him blankly.
Cedric’s mouth twitched. “Oh,” he said softly. “You’re actually blushing.”
“I am not.”
“You are.”
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t.”
The girls were still lingering nearby, whispering furiously and pretending not to stare. Cedric glanced over Harry’s shoulder and leaned in again, “Think we need another for good measure.”
Harry’s eyes widened. “Another wha—”
Cedric kissed him again. This one was slower. Harry, despite every logical thought screaming in his head, kissed him back. Which was probably the most alarming part. Cedric made a quiet pleased sound against his lips, and Harry felt it all the way down to his stomach. Somewhere nearby, a girl audibly gasped.
“Oh, they’re definitely dating.”
“Look at the way Diggory’s holding him—”
“I need to tell literally everyone.”
The footsteps finally retreated down the corridor. Cedric lingered a second longer before pulling away completely. Harry stared at him. Cedric stared back. Neither of them moved. “…Well,” Harry said faintly.
“Well,” Cedric agreed.
“You didn’t have to commit that hard to the bit.”
Cedric grinned slowly. “Maybe I wanted to.”
Harry’s heart did something deeply inconvenient.
“Oh.”
Cedric leaned casually against the wall beside him. “Besides, if I remember correctly, you asked me to pretend to be your boyfriend.”
“Pretend,” Harry repeated weakly.
“Right.” Cedric’s eyes sparkled. “Pretend.”
Harry opened his mouth.
Closed it again.
Because the thing was—
Cedric Diggory had been unfairly attractive for years. Harry had noticed. He’d tried not to notice, but that was difficult when Cedric smiled like sunlight and treated everyone kindly and looked ridiculously good in Quidditch gear. Harry had absolutely never imagined Cedric kissing him against a corridor wall, though. That particular fantasy had not occurred to him. Definitely not.
Cedric tilted his head. “You alright there, Potter? You look a little overheated.”
“You kissed me!”
“You asked.”
“I didn’t ask for all that.”
Cedric laughed softly. “Fair point.”
Harry rubbed both hands over his face. “This is a disaster.”
“Mm. Maybe.”
“Everyone’s going to think we’re dating now.”
Cedric looked entirely unbothered by this possibility.
“And?”
Harry blinked.
“And?”
Cedric shrugged one shoulder. “Could be worse.”
Harry stared at him suspiciously. “You’re enjoying this.”
“A little.”
“You’re evil.”
“I’m a Hufflepuff. We prefer ‘persistent.’”
Harry laughed despite himself. Cedric’s expression softened immediately at the sound, like he’d accomplished something important. It made Harry abruptly nervous. Which was ridiculous. He’d faced dragons. But Cedric Diggory looking at him like that? Terrifying. The corridor grew quieter around them. Distantly, someone shouted about Valentine decorations exploding near the Entrance Hall. Cedric glanced down at Harry. “So,” he said lightly, “how long do you need this fake boyfriend thing for?”
Harry swallowed.
“Um.”
Because honestly? The girls chasing him were no longer the main problem. The main problem was that Cedric still had one hand resting loosely on Harry’s waist like he belonged there. And Harry very much wanted him to keep it there. Cedric seemed to notice his staring. His smile turned gentler. “Harry,” Harry looked up, “If I kiss you again,” Cedric said carefully, “will you panic?”
“…Probably.”
“Do you want me to anyway?”
Harry’s face felt approximately the temperature of dragon fire. But he nodded. Cedric’s eyes warmed instantly. This kiss was different. Not dramatic for an audience. Not performative. Just slow and careful and deliberate. Harry melted into it before he could stop himself. Cedric’s thumb brushed lightly against his side through the fabric of his robes, and Harry felt embarrassingly close to swooning. When they finally separated, Harry looked dazed. Cedric looked smug. “That didn’t seem very fake,” Harry muttered.
“No,” Cedric agreed quietly. “Didn’t, did it?”
For one long moment, neither of them spoke. Then, from somewhere down the corridor: “HARRY POTTER!” Harry jumped violently. Cedric burst out laughing. The unmistakable sound of another approaching group echoed through the castle. Harry looked horrified. Cedric straightened calmly and held out a hand. “C’mon, boyfriend.” Harry stared at the offered hand for half a second before taking it. Cedric’s grin widened immediately.
And together, hand in hand, they ran.
**** Cedric's POV ****
Cedric Diggory was having an excellent Valentine’s Day. Not because of the decorations. Those were horrifying. Professor Flitwick had apparently taken personal offense to subtlety, and now half the castle looked like it had been attacked by aggressive cupids. Pink ribbons floated through the corridors. Heart-shaped confetti appeared whenever couples walked by. Someone had enchanted the suits of armor to sigh dramatically at passing students.
No, Cedric was having an excellent day because Harry Potter had smiled at him during breakfast. It had lasted maybe two seconds. Harry had been halfway through arguing with Ron Weasley over something involving toast when he looked up accidentally and caught Cedric watching him from the Hufflepuff table. Harry’s ears had gone slightly pink. Then he smiled. Small. Quick. Real. Cedric had nearly choked on his tea. Unfortunately, before he could work up the courage to actually go talk to him, Harry got mobbed by admirers. Cedric watched the disaster unfold with increasing amusement.
First came the valentines. Then the notes. Then the girls. By lunchtime, Harry looked like a hunted man. Cedric spotted him power-walking through a corridor with the frantic energy of someone escaping a natural disaster while three Ravenclaws chased after him holding glitter-covered parchment. Honestly, Cedric felt a little bad for laughing. A little. Still, every time he saw Harry dart around a corner looking personally betrayed by romance itself, Cedric’s crush got worse. Which was deeply inconvenient. Because Cedric Diggory — respectable Hufflepuff prefect, Triwizard Champion, generally competent human being — had been helplessly gone for Harry Potter since fourth year.
It wasn’t just that Harry was famous. Cedric honestly couldn’t care less about that. It was Harry himself. Harry laughing during Quidditch practice. Harry getting passionately angry over unfairness. Harry looking unbearably soft when he was sleepy in the library. Harry risking himself for people constantly like it was instinctive. Cedric had tried very hard not to develop feelings. That effort had failed catastrophically. So yes. Excellent Valentine’s Day. By evening, Cedric was heading back from the library when he heard shouting somewhere down the corridor. Specifically: “I AM NOT RUNNING, I AM EVACUATING.”
Cedric immediately recognized Harry’s voice. A second later, Harry came flying around the corner at alarming speed and collided directly into Cedric’s chest. Cedric caught him automatically. “Whoa there.” Harry looked up. Cedric’s heart did the stupid thing it always did around him. Harry’s hair was a complete mess. His glasses were crooked. He looked breathless and flushed and unfairly pretty. Cedric was busy trying not to think that when he heard a crowd approaching. Harry grabbed his robes. “Can you pretend to be my boyfriend for a minute?”
Cedric’s brain stopped. Entirely. For one glorious second, every coherent thought vanished from existence. Then the girls’ voices echoed around the corner. And Cedric made possibly the best decision of his life. “Yeah,” he said. Immediately. No hesitation whatsoever. Because look. Cedric was only human. Harry Potter had just grabbed his robes, looked at him with wide green eyes, and asked him to pretend to be his boyfriend. There was absolutely no universe where Cedric Diggory was saying no to that. So he did the first thing that came to mind.
He kissed him. Honestly, Cedric intended it to be quick. Just convincing enough to fool the girls. That was the plan. Then Harry made this tiny startled sound against his mouth, and Cedric completely lost control of the situation. Because Harry kissed back. Just for a second at first. But it was enough. Harry’s hands tightened instinctively in the front of Cedric’s robes, and Cedric’s entire nervous system lit on fire.
Merlin.
He had imagined kissing Harry before. More than once. Usually late at night when his self-respect was already compromised. Reality was significantly worse. Or better. Dangerously better. Harry tasted faintly like pumpkin juice and mint toothpaste. His lips were soft, and he felt warm where Cedric steadied him against the wall. The approaching girls arrived behind them in a chorus of scandalized gasps. Cedric should have pulled away immediately. Instead, he leaned in harder. Partially for the performance. Mostly because he was weak. The girls started whispering furiously. Cedric barely heard them.
Harry looked utterly dazed when Cedric finally pulled back slightly. "Think they bought it?" Cedric asked mostly because if he didn’t say something normal immediately, he was going to do something profoundly stupid like kiss him again. Harry just stared at him. His cheeks were pink. Actually pink. Cedric nearly died on the spot. “Oh,” he said before he could stop himself. “You’re blushing.”
Harry looked offended. “I am not.”
He absolutely was. It was adorable. Cedric had to physically restrain himself from smiling too hard. Then Harry accused him of overcommitting to the bit. And honestly? Cedric could have lied. Could have laughed it off. Could have pretended none of this meant anything. Instead he heard himself say, “Maybe I wanted to.”
Which was, in hindsight, an insane thing to admit while Harry Potter was pinned gently against a wall by his arm. But Harry just stared at him with this wonderfully shocked expression. Like the possibility had genuinely never occurred to him. Cedric’s hope, carefully buried for months, abruptly sat upright. Interesting. Very interesting. Then Harry laughed. Soft and helpless and slightly breathless. Cedric felt absurdly fond all at once. Merlin, he was doomed. The girls finally left, though not before at least one of them loudly announced she needed to “tell literally everyone.” Which meant the entire school would know by tomorrow. Cedric found he didn’t particularly care. Not if Harry kept looking at him like that. “So,” Cedric asked carefully, “how long do you need this fake boyfriend thing for?”
Harry made the smallest panicked noise. It was ridiculously endearing. And then —
Then Harry looked down at Cedric’s hand where it still rested on his waist.
Not uncomfortable. Not upset. Just… aware. Cedric’s pulse jumped. He decided to risk it. “If I kiss you again,” he asked quietly, “will you panic?”
Harry looked at him like his brain had stopped functioning. “…Probably.”
Cedric smiled a little. “Do you want me to anyway?”
There was a pause. Then Harry nodded. Cedric’s chest went warm. This kiss was slower. Not for show. Not for the crowd. Just Harry. Cedric had kissed people before. A few awkward dates. A Hufflepuff girl in third year. One disastrous experiment with Cho Chang’s friend that ended in mutual agreement they worked better as conversation partners. None of it had felt remotely like this. Harry melted against him so easily that Cedric almost forgot how to breathe. One of Harry’s hands slid up unconsciously, fingers tangling in his hair, making Cedric moan softly against Harry's lips. Cedric was finished for. Absolutely finished. When they finally separated, Harry looked shell-shocked. Cedric probably looked equally bad. “That didn’t seem very fake,” Harry murmured.
Cedric’s heart nearly punched through his ribs. “No,” he admitted softly. “Didn’t, did it?”
And then, because apparently the universe enjoyed ruining emotional moments: “HARRY POTTER!” Harry jumped like he’d been cursed. Cedric burst out laughing. The look Harry gave him was deeply betrayed. “You think this is funny?”
“A little,” Cedric admitted.
Another group of girls was approaching. Harry looked moments away from climbing out a window. Cedric, meanwhile, was suddenly struck by a brilliant idea. He held out his hand, “C’mon, boyfriend.”
Harry stared at him. Cedric tried very hard not to look too hopeful. Then Harry took his hand. Cedric thought, distantly, that this might actually be the best Valentine’s Day of his life. Then Harry intertwined their fingers properly. Cedric almost walked directly into a suit of armor.
**** Harry's POV ****
The Gryffindor common room was warm in the way only old castles could manage — all flickering firelight and worn armchairs and the low hum of students pretending they weren’t supposed to be in bed already. Ron Weasley was stretched sideways across a sofa like his bones had given up on him for the day. Hermione Granger sat in the armchair opposite, book open in her lap, expression mildly disapproving in the way that usually meant she was enjoying herself more than she wanted to admit. The fire popped. Harry Potter stood in the middle of the room. He looked like someone who had run here. Which, to be fair, he had — emotionally, at least. Ron glanced up first. “Blimey, you look like you’ve been chased again.”
“I wasn’t chased,” Harry said automatically.
Hermione raised an eyebrow. “That’s not a denial.”
Harry opened his mouth. Closed it. Then opened it again, like his brain had only just caught up with the fact that he had thoughts and those thoughts were about to escape. “I kissed Cedric Diggory.”
Ron sat up so fast he nearly fell off the sofa. “You what?”
Hermione slowly closed her book. Harry’s ears went red immediately. “Actually—” he corrected quickly, words tumbling out faster and faster like they were trying to outrun his embarrassment. “Cedric Diggory kissed me. Against a wall.” There was a long, stretching silence. The fire crackled loudly in the pause, as if trying to fill the void.
Ron stared. “…Right,” He said carefully. “I’m going to need you to say that again, but slower, and possibly in English this time.”
Hermione blinked once. Twice. Then, very quietly: “You kissed Cedric Diggory?”
Harry gestured wildly. “No. He kissed me. But technically I asked him to pretend to be my boyfriend for like—” he flailed, “—a minute, and then there were girls chasing me and I panicked and he just—he just did it.”
Ron looked like his brain was physically overheating. “Cedric Diggory,” he repeated, “the Hufflepuff prefect, Triwizard Champion Cedric Diggory—”
“Yes,” Harry said.
“—kissed you,” Ron continued slowly, “against a wall.”
“Yes.”
“In the corridor.”
“Yes.”
“On Valentine’s Day.”
Harry hesitated. “…Yes.”
Ron leaned back like the universe had personally betrayed him. “That is the most mental thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”
Hermione, however, was not laughing. She was watching Harry very carefully. “…Harry,” she said slowly, “why were you running from girls in the first place?”
“I didn’t ask for this!” Harry said, a bit desperately. “I don’t know why everyone suddenly decided I’m… I don’t know… some sort of Valentine’s attraction hazard.”
Ron snorted. “You are literally Harry Potter. You’re always an attraction hazard.”
Harry pointed at him. “That is not helpful.”
Hermione, still annoyingly composed, tilted her head. “And Cedric just… agreed?”
Harry hesitated again. This time, his face did something complicated. “…Yeah,” he said quieter. “He just went with it.”
Ron squinted. “That’s suspiciously enthusiastic for a fake boyfriend situation.”
“It was fake,” Harry insisted, though his voice cracked slightly in a way he clearly hated.
Hermione’s eyes sharpened a fraction. “Harry,” she said gently, “did it feel fake?”
Harry opened his mouth. Then closed it. Then, very slowly, he dropped onto the armchair opposite them like his legs had stopped supporting him. “I don’t know,” he admitted.
Ron stared at him. “Mate.”
Harry buried his face in his hands. “Don’t.” Ron did not, in fact, stop.
“So let me get this straight,” Ron continued, increasingly invested, “you got chased through half the castle by a gang of girls, ran into Cedric Diggory, asked him to be your boyfriend, and then he kissed you so convincingly that you’ve come all the way here to tell us about it instead of, I don’t know, sleeping or recovering from emotional damage?”
Harry peeked through his fingers. “When you say it like that it sounds worse.”
“It sounds brilliant,” Ron corrected immediately.
Hermione shot him a look. Ron added, more carefully, “I mean. Confusing. Obviously. Very confusing.” Harry let out a long breath and leaned back. The firelight painted the room in soft orange shadows. Somewhere upstairs, someone laughed loudly and a portrait squeaked indignantly. “I didn’t expect him to just… do that,” Harry said finally.
Hermione’s expression softened slightly. “Do you regret it?”
Harry hesitated. That hesitation lasted just long enough to be extremely noticeable. Then he said, too quickly, “No.”
Ron narrowed his eyes. “That was suspiciously fast.” Harry threw a cushion at him. Ron caught it, grinning. But Hermione was still watching Harry like she was assembling a puzzle. “And how do you feel about Cedric Diggory now?” she asked carefully. Harry froze. That question landed differently. Worse. Because it wasn’t about chaos or panic or Valentine’s Day madness. It was about Cedric Diggory. Cedric Diggory who has plagued his thoughts since he was 13 and Cedric smiled at him during the Hufflepuff VS Gryffindor match. Harry stared into the fire for a long moment. “I think,” he said slowly, “that he’s… really annoying.”
Ron blinked. “That’s your takeaway?”
Harry nodded firmly. “He just decided to kiss me like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like—like I wasn’t even surprised enough. Like it made sense.”
Hermione’s lips twitched slightly. “And did it?”
Harry didn’t answer immediately. Which, again, was very telling. Ron flopped back dramatically. “This is going to be all over Hogwarts by breakfast.” Harry groaned. “It already is. Someone saw us.” Hermione sighed. “Valentine’s Day at Hogwarts was always going to be chaotic.” Ron pointed at Harry. “Yeah, but not ‘Harry Potter gets snogged against a wall by Cedric Diggory’ chaotic.” Harry made a strangled noise. “Stop saying it like that.” Ron grinned. “Why? That’s what happened.”
Harry buried his face in the cushion again. But even through the embarrassment, there was something else lingering. A memory. Cedric’s hand steady at his waist. Cedric’s voice, low and amused. Cedric asking if he wanted him to kiss him again like it was a normal question people asked each other. Harry exhaled slowly. “…It wasn’t bad,” he muttered.
Ron’s head snapped up. “That is not the endorsement you think it is!” Hermione smiled faintly into her book. Harry, still hiding his face, added in a quieter voice: “…It wasn’t fake either.” And for once, even Ron didn’t have a comeback for that.
**** Cedric's POV ****
Cedric didn’t remember walking to the Hufflepuff common room. He remembered Harry’s hand in his. He remembered the way Harry had said “I don’t know” like it meant something important. Like it had weight. Like Cedric had somehow, accidentally, stepped into a moment that could change direction if he breathed wrong. And he very much remembered the kiss. Which was inconvenient. Because Cedric Diggory was, generally speaking, a functional human being. He opened the portrait of the badger and stepped inside. Warmth hit him immediately — soft golden light, low murmurs of students studying late, the smell of parchment and honey-cakes someone had definitely smuggled in from dinner.
Tonight, though, Cedric barely saw any of it. He walked straight past the armchairs. Straight past the chess table. Straight up the spiral staircase to the boys’ dormitory like he was on autopilot. The moment the door shut behind him, three heads turned. “Merlin,” said the first voice, instantly alert. “You look like you’ve been hit by a Bludger emotionally.”
That was Ewan Vale, sprawled upside down on his bed, dark hair sticking out in every direction like he’d lost a fight with his pillow and the pillow had won. Next to him, sitting cross-legged on his bed with a stack of Transfiguration notes, was Finn Oakes, who looked up slowly, expression already suspicious. And by the window, leaning against the sill with his arms folded, was Rowan Kettleburn, who took one look at Cedric’s face and immediately narrowed his eyes. Rowan spoke first, “You saw him.”
Cedric stopped halfway to his bed, “…Yes.”
Ewan gasped loudly. “Oh no.” Finn blinked. “Oh yes?”
Rowan pushed off the window sill. “What happened.”
Cedric sat down very carefully on the edge of his bed like his legs might betray him otherwise, “I ran into him.”
Ewan sat up so fast he nearly fell off the mattress. “Harry Potter?”
Cedric shot him a look. “No, the other one.”
“Right,” Ewan said quickly. “Sorry. Carry on. Obviously Harry Potter.”
Finn closed his notes slowly. “You ran into him.”
Cedric nodded.
Rowan’s eyes sharpened. “And?”
Cedric hesitated. This was the part where he could still salvage his dignity. This was the part where he could say: nothing happened, it was fine, I helped him escape some admirers, end of story. Instead, he heard himself say: “…He asked me to pretend to be his boyfriend.”
The dormitory went completely silent. Ewan made a noise like a strangled kneazle. Finn’s quill dropped onto the floor. Rowan just stared. Then—
Ewan exploded.
“HE WHAT?”
Cedric rubbed a hand over his face. “It was—he was being chased—”
“That is not the important part,” Rowan said flatly.
Finn leaned forward slightly. “Did you say yes?”
Cedric blinked. “Yes.”
Ewan looked like he might ascend. “Of course you did.”
Rowan was still staring. “And then?”
Cedric’s ears felt warm. “I kissed him.”
For a second, no one moved. Then all three of them reacted at once. Ewan actually fell off his bed. Finn made a sound like his soul had left his body and come back with gossip. Rowan slowly put a hand over his face. “…You kissed Harry Potter,” Rowan repeated carefully, like saying it slower might make it less real. Cedric nodded once.
Ewan, from the floor: “Harry Potter who you've been in love with since our fourth year? THAT Harry Potter?”
Cedric went very still, “…Yes.”
That did it. The dormitory detonated. Ewan was fully upright now, pacing in circles like a man possessed. “I KNEW IT. I KNEW IT. I KNEW YOU WERE IN LOVE WITH HIM—”
“I am not—” Cedric started automatically.
Finn cut in immediately, voice sharp. “Don’t lie. You’ve been insufferable about him for years.” Cedric stopped. Rowan nodded once, arms crossed. “Correct.” Cedric opened his mouth. Closed it. Ewan pointed at him like he was presenting evidence in court. “You literally talk about him after Quidditch matches.”
“I do not.”
“You said, and I quote,” Ewan continued, “’Potter’s really reckless, but in a way that makes sense? Like he commits properly.’”
Cedric felt his ears go hotter.
“That is not—”
Finn raised a hand. “You also said he looks like he argues with the universe and wins in an attractive way.”
Cedric stared at him.
Rowan added, almost casually, “And last month you said you thought hes the most beautiful person in the world.”
Cedric sat down harder on the bed, “…I didn’t say it like that.”
Ewan grinned wildly. “You absolutely did.”
Silence fell again. Cedric stared at the floor. Then, quietly: “I didn’t mean for it to happen like that.”
Rowan’s tone softened slightly. “Did it feel wrong?”
Cedric thought about it. Harry’s breath catching slightly. Harry kissing back like he didn’t know what he was doing but wanted to anyway. Harry looking at him afterwards like Cedric had rearranged something fundamental. “…No. it felt...like the world has been just slightly out of place all my life without me noticing then clicked as soon as we kissed,” Cedric admitted.
Finn leaned back, studying him. “So what’s the problem?”
Cedric laughed once, short and disbelieving. “The problem is that I was pretending-or i was supposed to be.”
Ewan flopped onto his bed dramatically. “Oh, tragic. Truly. Devastating. You kissed Harry Potter under false pretenses.”
Cedric threw a pillow at him. Ewan caught it, still smiling. Rowan, however, didn’t look amused, “You’re not actually upset about the pretending,” Rowan said quietly. Cedric looked up at him. Rowan tilted his head slightly. “You’re upset because you think it doesn’t count.” That landed. Hard. Cedric didn’t answer immediately. Because that was exactly it. He exhaled slowly. “I don’t want it to be… a misunderstanding,” he admitted.
Finn frowned slightly. “Did he seem upset?” Cedric shook his head immediately. “No. He panicked at first. Then—” he hesitated, searching for words, “—he stayed.” Ewan sat up again, suddenly interested. “He stayed?” Cedric nodded. Rowan’s expression shifted just slightly, “…Oh,” Rowan said. Cedric looked up. “What?” Rowan’s mouth twitched. “You’re gone.” “I am not—”
“You are,” Finn said calmly.
Ewan pointed at Cedric again, delighted. “You are SO gone.”
Cedric buried his face in his hands, “That’s not helpful.”
“It is extremely helpful,” Ewan argued. “We’ve been waiting for you to realise this for literal years.”
Cedric groaned into his palms. Finn leaned back against his bedpost, satisfied. “So what happens now?”
Cedric lifted his head. That was the question. What happened now? Harry Potter had kissed him back. Harry Potter had looked at him like something had shifted. Harry Potter was currently in Gryffindor Tower, probably being interrogated by his friends. And Cedric Diggory was sitting in his dormitory, very aware of the fact that nothing about him felt particularly stable anymore. “I don’t know,” Cedric said honestly.
Rowan nodded once. “Then you figure it out tomorrow.” Ewan grinned. “Or tonight.” Cedric shot him a look. Ewan held up his hands innocently. “Just saying. If I were you, I’d probably go find him again.”
Cedric’s heart did a stupid little jump at the idea. Finn noticed. Of course he did. “You’re going to,” Finn said simply. Cedric didn’t deny it. That, more than anything, made the dormitory go quiet again. Ewan slowly lay back on his bed with a blissful sigh. “Hufflepuff dormitory witnessing history tonight, lads.” Rowan shook his head slightly, but he was smiling now.
Cedric stood up. He didn’t know what he was going to say. He didn’t know what Harry was going to say. But he knew one thing very clearly. Whatever had started in that corridor… was not pretending anymore. And Cedric Diggory, for once in his life, was not planning to walk away from something just because it was complicated.
********
Cedric didn’t walk to Gryffindor Tower. Walking would have given him time to think. Thinking was dangerous. Thinking would have produced things like this is impulsive and you don’t know what you’re doing and Harry Potter might laugh in your face and you deserve it if he does. So Cedric ran. Hogwarts blurred past in flickers of torchlight and stone corridors, portraits grumbling as he passed too fast to acknowledge them. His lungs burned within minutes, but he didn’t slow down. Not when his thoughts were louder than his breath.
Harry had kissed him back. That was the only sentence his brain seemed capable of forming. Harry had kissed him back. By the time he reached Gryffindor Tower, Cedric was slightly out of breath and very much not emotionally prepared for what he was about to do.
The Fat Lady peered down at him from her portrait frame, eyebrows lifting. “Well,” she said, drawing out the word, “this is a surprise. Hufflepuff, aren’t you?”
Cedric nodded, still catching his breath. “Cedric Diggory.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, then sharpened with immediate interest. “Ohhh.”
Cedric paused. “Is Harry Potter in there?”
A knowing smile spread across her face, “Oh, he’s in there,” she said. “Rather dramatically in there, actually. Something about wall-related gossip and emotional confusion.” Cedric exhaled once. “…Could you get him?” The Fat Lady looked delighted. “Oh, I do love a bold decision.” The portrait swung open. Moments later, the common room beyond erupted in noise Cedric didn’t let himself process — laughter, voices, the crackle of firelight, and then footsteps approaching fast.
Too fast. Harry appeared in the doorway. And stopped dead. For a second, neither of them moved Harry looked… exactly like he had earlier. Flushed. Slightly dishevelled. Eyes too bright. Like he’d been thinking too hard about something and hadn’t found an exit yet. Cedric stepped forward before he could lose courage.
He didn’t give himself time to hesitate. One hand went to Harry’s waist. The other came up, gentler, settling at the side of his neck like he was trying to anchor himself there. Harry sucked in a small breath. Cedric leaned in—not kissing him. Not yet. Just close enough that there was no space for anything else to matter. His voice came out lower than he expected. “Harry,” he said. Harry’s eyes flickered. Cedric swallowed, “Tell me to go.” Harry didn’t move. Cedric’s thumb shifted slightly at his waist, grounding himself. “Tell me you don’t want this,” he continued, quieter now, steadier but more honest than he’d meant to be. “I will walk away.”
A beat. The silence between them felt enormous. Cedric forced himself not to fill it. Not to assume. Not to hope too loudly. Then he added, because he couldn’t stop himself—
“But if you want this… just say the word.”
Harry stared at him. Really stared. Like he was trying to work out whether Cedric was real, or whether this was still part of Valentine’s Day madness and someone would laugh and pull the curtain back at any moment. Cedric didn’t move. Didn’t look away. Didn’t let go. Harry’s throat bobbed slightly as he swallowed. “Cedric,” he said finally.
Cedric’s grip tightened just a fraction—immediately guilty for it, but unable to stop himself from reacting. Harry didn’t tell him to let go. Instead, Harry’s hand lifted. Slowly. Carefully. It came to rest against Cedric’s chest, right over his heart. “I don’t want you to go,” Harry said. Cedric’s breath caught hard enough it almost hurt. Harry’s voice went quieter. “You don’t get to just say things like that and then leave.”
Cedric let out a short, shaky laugh. “I wasn’t planning on leaving.”
Harry’s fingers curled slightly in Cedric’s robes like he needed proof. “…Good,” Harry said, like it cost him something. Cedric exhaled. Something inside him finally stopped spinning. He leaned in—slow this time, giving Harry every chance to pull away. Harry didn’t. The kiss wasn’t rushed like earlier. No audience. No pretending. Just the quiet, undeniable fact that whatever this was, it had stopped being accidental the moment Harry had kissed him back in that corridor. When they broke apart, neither of them moved far. Foreheads nearly touching. Harry let out a breath that sounded suspiciously like relief. Cedric’s thumb brushed once at Harry’s waist, gentle now. Certain. “…So,” Cedric said softly, a faint, almost disbelieving smile forming, “that’s a yes?”
Harry huffed a small laugh against his mouth. “Don’t make me say it again.”
Cedric smiled properly then, “Alright,” he said. “I won’t go.”
And for the first time all day, Harry didn’t look like he was being chased. And Cedric Diggory didn’t feel like he was running anymore.