FIC: Terra Firma (4/5)
Title: Terra Firma, Chapter 4
Pairing/Characters: Harry/Cedric, OFC
Rating: PG-13
Warning: My new favorite type of AU, in which Cedric replaces the epilogue.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter & friends belong to JKR.
Summary: Years after the war, the last place Harry expected to see Cedric was on a plane headed to Florence.
A/N: Links will take you to pretty pictures. Hugs and thanks to my beta and britpicker nagi_schwarz. Also, I'm somewhat amused that London actually was shut down due to a freakish snow storm shortly after I posted that last chapter. :)
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Harry was certain that Alida would notice something. As much as he tried to act normally, he kept glancing at Cedric, and laughing at things that weren’t that funny, and probably being the exact opposite of discreet. It wasn’t his fault that fooling around the night before had put him in such a good mood.
Cedric, on the other hand, was the image of composure. He smiled and chatted as though nothing had changed and only glanced back at Harry when Alida’s attention was elsewhere. At the moment, her attention was on finding the ticket line.
They were standing in a stone courtyard surrounded by the high, windowed walls of the Uffizi. Since it was the weekend, Alida was finally able to show them around the city herself, and they were starting with Florence’s preeminent art museum.
The interior of the museum was nearly as intimidating as the exterior. Some of the walls were covered floor to ceiling in oil paintings, and marble sculptures lined each hallway. Harry was grateful they had Alida as a guide; she claimed to have absorbed information from her late husband, but she sounded like an art scholar in her own right. Most of what they saw would have been meaningless to Harry without her insight.
“Where does the Vasari Corridor connect?” Cedric asked as they walked past portraits and landscapes.
He had asked several of those educated-type questions already, and Alida no longer looked surprised. In fact, she seemed faintly proud. “I can point it out to you when we step outside, though the corridor itself is only open for special tours.”
“What corridor?” asked Harry, who had been asking that particular question all morning. Cedric and Alida could show off all they wanted; Harry had no problem admitting he was clueless.
“It’s a passageway that connects the Palazzo Pitti to the Palazzo Vecchio,” Alida explained. “It was built so the Grand Duke could travel between them without actually going outside.”
“Vasari was the architect who designed it,” Cedric added. “He was also a painter and a very important historian. He was the first to record biographies of all the important muggle and wizarding artists of the Renaissance.”
“Wizarding?” This was clearly something Alida hadn’t known. “Vasari wrote about wizards?”
Cedric nodded. “It was in a second volume called Lives of the Most Magical Painters, Sculptors, and Architects. There was a copy at the Hogwarts library. If you’re interested, I could try finding one for you.”
“No, I wouldn’t want you to go through the trouble. And the names would be meaningless, anyway, unless I had the art in front of me to reference.” Cedric looked a bit disappointed, so Alida smiled and added, “I wouldn’t mind going to a wizarding art museum some time.”
It was clear Cedric appreciated the conciliatory gesture by the way his face lit up. It led to a comfortable, friendly lunch at a small bakery, free of any tension. Harry just hoped the mood would last.
From the panificio, they walked to the San Lorenzo market. Harry was expecting something along the lines of the craft market they had stumbled across on their first day, but it was nothing of the sort. Vendors took up every inch of the street, their booths dripping with jewelry, clothing, bags, and any number of souvenirs. Crowds of people wandered about, both tourists and Italians alike. Even in the cold of winter, the San Lorenzo market was bustling.
Not long after they had arrived, Cedric excused himself to find the public floo that Doimo had marked on his map. Apparently it wasn’t too far from there, and he wanted to fire call home to let his dad know he was okay. He left in the direction they had come. Suddenly, Harry found himself alone with Alida.
They spent a minute or two just walking around, taking in the merchandise. Harry pointed out a few items just to break up the silence, but it was Alida who started a conversation.
“So tell me, Harry. How long have you known Cedric?”
It was a perfectly innocent question, but it already made Harry nervous. Alida didn’t really know anything about him, and certainly not about him and Cedric. He hoped he wouldn’t let anything slip in Cedric’s absence. “About ten years, since we were in school together. But we hadn’t seen each other in ages before I ran into him on the plane.”
“I see.” They walked a little further before Alida asked, “Is he enjoying himself here, do you think?”
Harry had a brief mental image of last night, and grinned before he could stop himself. “Yeah, we’ve been having loads of fun.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear that. I worry that he seems too serious for his age.”
“He’s a lot more relaxed once he lets his guard down.” That didn’t come out quite as Harry had intended, and he hoped he hadn’t inadvertently insulted Alida. Feeling embarrassed, he turned away from her to inspect a leather wallet.
“Was he the same way when you were in school together? Before - the war?”
Harry stilled, but didn’t turn around. “Maybe? I’m not sure. I didn’t really know him that well back then.”
There was a pause before Harry heard Alida sigh next to him. “He was too young to have lived through that. Both of you were.”
“We didn’t have a choice,” Harry said.
“There’s always a choice,” Alida replied.
Harry put down the wallet and faced her. The conversation was now taking a dangerous turn, and unless Harry wanted to lie outright, he would have to come clean and get it over with. “There’s something I should tell you. About me, I mean.” His eyes darted about the crowd. “But maybe not here.”
“I know who you are,” said Alida abruptly.
Harry froze. “Sorry?”
Alida adjusted her scarf, looking away apologetically. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but I already know who you are.”
Whether or not she meant to, the confession made Harry extremely uncomfortable. It colored all of their past interactions, and Harry could feel the weight of fame and responsibility being placed back on his shoulders. He had enjoyed being anonymous in this city, Cedric aside; now he felt the acute pain of being Harry Potter once more, and it came on sudden and sharp. He was also immediately reminded that Alida had lost a daughter because of him.
Perhaps unnerved by Harry’s silence, Alida continued. “My daughter told me about you after your first war ended. She phoned me on the nearest payphone - I hadn’t heard her voice in years. I remember she just kept repeating your name, over and over again.” Alida smiled sadly at the memory. “The next time I heard your name wasn’t until about four years ago, when I received my first letter from Cedric. I already knew my daughter had died, but no one had told me until then that your second war had ended. In any case, I remembered you from all those years ago.” She paused, brushing her fingers over a pile of wallets. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything earlier. I wanted to thank you the moment Cedric introduced you, but again, I was worried about making you uncomfortable. Perhaps I should have been more honest.”
“It’s all right,” Harry mumbled. “It was nice, I guess, thinking you didn’t know me.”
Alida looked at him for an uncomfortable moment. “You’re right, though. I didn’t know you.” She smiled and placed a comforting hand on Harry’s arm. “I’m glad I’ve had this opportunity to meet you, Harry. Now I feel as though I can thank you properly. So, thank you, for all you’ve done for me and my family.”
Harry generally disliked this sort of attention, especially from a victim’s family, but it did make him feel better to know where they stood. He was glad, at least, that he wouldn’t have to hide his past or take the time to explain himself. Eager to break the moment, Harry nodded across the way and said, “Can we look at those postcards?”
Alida followed him across the street, and together they flipped through photographs of everything Harry had seen so far, and many things he hadn’t. At one point he asked, “I wonder if there’s an owlery around?” mostly to himself. There were a few postcards he knew Hermione, in particular, would enjoy.
“Can I ask you something, Harry?” said Alida.
Harry shrugged by way of answer.
“You work for the airline, now. Was it difficult to adjust to the muggle world?”
“Not really,” he said, pulling out another card. “I was raised by muggles, so I know how to get by. Though there are some things that still throw me off.” He looked up at her, a thought forming in his mind. “I don’t - I don’t live in the muggle world, you know. I just work there. I still live in a flat without electricity, and all my friends are witches and wizards.”
“But you feel comfortable in both environments.”
Now Harry had an idea of what she was getting at. He responded as carefully as he could. “Yeah, I guess, but the wizarding world is my home. The muggle one…I’m not really invested in it, if that makes sense. It’s just somewhere to be, or somewhere to earn a living.” He tapped the postcard against his leg thoughtfully. “I have a really good friend who’s muggleborn. I think she has a harder time than I do. She told me once it feels like being two different people, or living in two different places at the same time. Then again, she’s sort of the type who needs to know everything and do everything, so maybe she’s not the best example.” Harry shrugged.
Alida was about to respond, but that was when she spotted Cedric making his way back towards them, and the subject was dropped.
Harry ended up buying a few postcards, which he decided to send by regular post. Hermione - who of course had a proper postbox - could pass them on to everyone else.
***
The three of them sat around the dinner table, finishing off their wine and planning tomorrow’s events. Harry tried not to get involved, since he didn’t know where he would be tomorrow. What he was really looking forward to was another night spent with Cedric. He considered claiming fatigue and heading upstairs early, and wondered if Cedric would get the hint and join him.
Of course, he didn’t want to interrupt Cedric and Alida’s time together. Earlier, they had enjoyed an abstract discussion on history and art, topics to which Harry had contributed little. Cedric apparently had gone back to his earlier policy, so there had been virtually no mention of either wizards or muggles. Maybe that was for the best.
In fact, everything had been going quite well. Well, that is, until Harry had to go and knock over his wine glass.
It was an honest enough mistake; he had merely been reaching for another biscotto. There wasn’t much left in the glass, either, but what was there managed to leap over the table’s edge and splatter Alida’s beige carpeting.
Harry’s first response was to reach for a napkin, or wet a towel in the sink. It was Cedric who instinctively pulled out his wand and vanished the stain.
Alida stared at the missing stain for a moment, then got up from her seat. “Thank you, Cedric, I appreciate the help. If you’ll excuse me, I’m just going to get some spot treatment in case you missed anything.”
Cedric frowned. “I didn’t miss anything.”
“Oh, I’m not insulting your skill. I’m just rather fond of this carpet, so I like to be safe.”
“I didn’t miss anything,” Cedric repeated, with greater assertion.
Alida paused where she stood. “Please don’t take it personally. I just don’t want to take the risk, is all.”
“Because you assume that magic is a risk?”
Alida frowned. “That’s not what I said.” After a hesitant pause, she added, “What are you getting at, Cedric?”
That was the question he had been waiting for. Cedric took a deep breath, and Harry could tell he was about to say all the things he had been storing since his arrival. Harry immediately began thinking of ways to defuse the situation. Avoiding conflict was, after all, now a part of his job description. But Cedric spoke before Harry could intervene - not with the anger that Harry expected, but with forced calm.
“I know you don’t like magic. I know that’s why you and Mum had a falling out. But this is a part of who I am, and if you want me in your life you’re going to have to accept that.”
“And who told you this? Your mother?” Alida’s voice was just as steady as his, although she was tightly gripping the back of the chair.
There was a beat before Cedric said, “She didn’t have to tell me.”
Alida let go of the chair, and left the room. They could hear her on the stairs, and then walking about the second floor.
“Cedric-“
“I don’t want to hear it, Harry.”
Harry rubbed his face, and continued what he was about to say anyway. He liked Alida, and he didn’t like Cedric treating her this way. “She doesn’t deserve that, you know. She’s trying, at least, and that’s more than I could say about my muggle relatives.”
“I’m only being honest,” said Cedric with a stubborn determination in his eyes. “If I’m going to be staying here, we have to-“
Cedric was interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming back down the stairs. Alida reentered the room, walked to the table and handed Cedric a folder stuffed with papers and photographs. Cedric took it without question, and began looking through its contents. He had a similar reaction as he had that first night with the photo album. He visibly deflated, looking more exhausted than upset. From where he was sitting, Harry could make out a few of the objects: an old muggle photo of a small girl in front of a train; a letter written on yellowed parchment with green ink.
Alida took her seat, and clasped her hands on the table. “I have always supported your mother, from the moment she received that letter.”
Cedric furrowed his brow, but didn’t remove his eyes from the photos. “So what happened, then? Why were you two barely on speaking terms?”
Alida waited for Cedric to look up before responding. “It’s a bit more complicated than that. I’m afraid I -“ Alida sighed. “I don’t know where to begin. I haven’t been completely honest with you, Cedric.” Here she paused, and stood up to retrieve the rest of the wine from the kitchen. She offered both Cedric and Harry another glass before refilling her own, although she didn’t drink it right away, just held it in her hand.
“You see, when we moved to Florence . . . it wasn’t for my husband’s job. We moved because of the war. Your war. It was no longer safe for your mother, who had two muggle parents, to live in that part of the world, so we took her to Italy the moment she finished school.”
Alida took a sip of the wine before continuing her story, while both Harry and Cedric listened with rapt attention.
“You have to understand, we were only looking out for her safety. She resented us for it, your mother. She went along with it, but she resented us. What my husband and I didn’t realize, you see, didn’t even think to look into, was the fact that there are practically no magical folk left in Florence. You’ve probably noticed that yourself. In any case, your mother was miserable here, and that was really only one reason of many.”
Alida began gesturing as she spoke, in true Italian fashion. “There had been this - sense, this intuition I’d had for years, that she was growing more distant. At first I thought it was a typical adolescent phase. I always tried to give her a lot of freedom, and I assumed it was something she would grow out of. But every year, whenever she came home from Hogwarts, she seemed less and less a part of our lives. It started off small. She never expressed any interest in what was happening in “our” current events, or she would become easily frustrated with simple tasks that she was used to performing with magic. When she went out with friends, they always went someplace where she knew I couldn’t follow.”
It seemed like a topic to which Alida had given a lot of contemplation, thought Harry. He wondered how often she had this conversation with herself, and how long she had been waiting to share it with someone else. There was an intensity in her voice that spoke of a need to be heard and understood.
Alida stared at her wine glass and then took another sip. “I thought, very naively, that being here, being removed from all of that, would make things better, but they became much worse. Your mother was finally allowed to perform magic outside of school, you see. Suddenly, she was using magic for everything. It was…not upsetting, I’ve never had a problem with magic, but it made me - anxious, I suppose. It felt as though she were using magic as a wedge to drive between us. Perhaps I was being paranoid; perhaps not. In any case, one day, about a year after we had moved, I made the mistake of confronting her about it. I ended up saying some things I shouldn’t have said. And the next day, she was gone.”
Alida looked at Cedric with eyes full of sadness, and something else. “A few months later, I found out she had eloped. A year after that, and you were born.” Alida shook her head. “She was so young when she had you.”
They three of them sat there for a minute in silence before Cedric spoke. All the fight was gone from his eyes, but the determination remained in his voice. “Then I was right,” he said softly. “You don’t like magic. You think it ruined your relationship with Mum, and I understand that, but the fact remains that you don’t like talking about it, and you don’t like seeing it.”
“That’s not true.” Alida leaned in towards Cedric as though Harry’s presence had been completely forgotten. “What bothers me is seeing you so dependent on magic. I don’t want you to become - isolated like she was. I know you think my muggle ways are beneath you. You mother thought the same thing.” Cedric tried to interrupt, but Alida held up her hand to silence him. “No, Cedric. Fighting for muggles is not the same thing as being comfortable around muggles. I just want you to be comfortable here. With or without magic.” She placed her hand over Cedric’s on the table, and looked him straight in the eye. “I don’t want that barrier between us, because I want to see you as often as possible.”
With his free hand, Cedric covered Alida’s and gave it a small squeeze. “I want the same thing.”
And just as Harry was wondering if he should give the two of them some privacy, his mobile began to vibrate.
***
Fiesole looked unreal in the night sky, just a series of lights sprinkled over the peak of a low mountain. The air was chilly, even with a jacket, and the only sounds were the crickets and the brook that flowed beneath him to his left. The houses around here, even though they were residential and modern, still had a distinctive Italian flavor with their red tiled roofs and pale yellow walls. The view from the balcony was lovely.
Harry heard the glass doors behind him slide open, and soon Cedric was standing next to him.
“How is everything?” Harry asked as he half-turned, leaning his right arm against the ledge.
Without hesitation, Cedric raised a hand and threaded it through Harry’s hair, watching his own fingers move back and forth against Harry’s scalp before answering. “It’s good, I think. Or else it’s going to be. We both have some things to work on, but I’m glad we finally got it all out in the open.”
“Spoken like a true Hufflepuff,” Harry teased.
Cedric smirked, then moved his hand down to caress Harry’s cheek before continuing lower to massage the back of his neck. “You’ve packed,” he said.
Harry sighed and shrugged one shoulder. “I leave first thing tomorrow morning.”
The pressure on his neck grew more purposeful, and Harry closed his eyes because it felt so bloody good. He’d never known anyone to give spontaneous massages before. Without breaking momentum, Cedric turned him bodily so that he was leaning forward against the ledge. Now Cedric was behind him, focusing his attention on Harry’s shoulders.
“Fuck,” said Harry, long and low, to show his appreciation.
They were silent for a minute or two as Cedric worked his way down Harry’s back. Harry had his head resting on top of his folded arms and was dangerously close to falling asleep on his feet, Cedric was that good.
“What are you thinking about?” asked Cedric at one point.
“The Yule Ball,” answered Harry sleepily.
Cedric snorted. “The Yule Ball?”
“Well, I was thinking about you, and how much I resented you back then. You just seemed like you had everything figured out, you know? Like it was all so easy. Stupid, I know, but I was sort of jealous, to be honest.”
Cedric laughed, though the laugh was bitter. “Are you kidding? That year was probably one of the most difficult periods of my life.”
Harry turned his head to try and look over his shoulder. “But you were Champion. The real Champion, I mean. Everyone loved you. And you got to go to the ball with - oh, I guess that didn’t really help.”
“No, not so much.” Cedric pressed hard into Harry’s lower back, and Harry returned his head to its original position. After a pause, Cedric continued. “If anything, I was envious of you.”
Harry snorted in response, and Cedric hit him lightly on the back. “I’m being serious. No matter what you were dealing with, you always seemed - I don’t know - so comfortable in your own skin. Meanwhile, I was spending that whole year just trying to figure out who I was, trying to be as normal as possible. The tournament was part of it, I guess. Anyway, by the time we reached the cup, I had this sudden realization that even if I won, it wouldn’t really change anything.”
Harry felt the hands on him still, and then warm lips were pressed to the back of his neck. The kisses continued up towards his ear, making Harry squirm. After everything that had happened that night, he was a little surprised to find himself being seduced once again, and so soon - not that he was complaining.
Harry turned around and smiled as he leaned back against the ledge. Cedric still looked exhausted, but more relaxed than before, as though giving a massage were more therapeutic than receiving one. Without preamble, Harry wrapped his arms around Cedric’s waist and brought him into a proper kiss.
Despite the cold, they remained outside for a while, warming each other with mouths and body heat. There was no way of knowing how long it would be until they were both back in London, and so Harry preferred to take his time over getting any sleep. The kisses were slow and restrained, almost to the point of teasing. Cedric had his hands once again on Harry’s back, while Harry - who was already loose from the massage - practically melted under the touch. The air smelled of running water and Cedric.
Since Harry wasn’t keeping track of time, he wasn’t exactly sure how long they were out there. The kiss probably could have lasted all night if they hadn’t been interrupted by the faint sound of a door opening from inside their room.
One second, Cedric was locked to Harry’s mouth; the next second, there was a good three feet between them. Through the glass doors, they could see Alida staring at them, the doorknob still in her hand. Harry could tell by the surprise in her face that it was too late; she had already seen enough.
Harry froze for a second, then opened the sliding doors and stepped into the bedroom, assuming that Cedric would follow behind. “Hi,” he said, for lack of anything else to say.
“I’m so sorry,” Alida immediately apologized. “I knocked first, but no one answered. I didn’t mean to barge in.”
“It’s your house,” Harry reminded her. “Actually, I - I hope you’re not upset. We only started seeing each other yesterday, so we haven’t been going behind your back or anything. Although I guess we still should have said something. I’m sorry you found out like this.”
“Don’t be daft,” said Alida with sincerity. “You’re both adults. You don’t need my permission.” She looked over Harry’s shoulder and frowned. “Where is Cedric?”
Harry spun around, and sure enough, Cedric was nowhere to be seen. He must have escaped to another side of the balcony, one without windows. Harry’s heart sank; this didn’t bode well. “Hold on,” he said. “I’ll go and get him.”
He found Cedric easily enough; it’s not as though he had many options for places to hide. Cedric was standing hunched over the balcony’s ledge, the heels of his palms pressed to his eyes. From the movement of his shoulders, he seemed to be taking deep, steadying breaths.
Harry approached as carefully as he could. “Cedric? Are you alright?”
Cedric said nothing, and made no indication that he had heard Harry at all.
Not knowing exactly what to do, Harry walked up next to him, and lightly placed his hand on Cedric’s shoulder. As soon as he made physical contact, Cedric jumped as though he had been burned.
“Don’t touch me!” he shouted. “This is your fault. I never should have brought you here.”
At another time in his life, those words may have stung, but Harry had dealt with enough unruly flight passengers to know not to respond in kind. This wasn’t about him. So he ignored the outburst and instead turned his focus back on Cedric, who was now pacing the length of the wall.
“Calm down,” he said in a low voice. “It’s okay. She’s not upset, you know.”
Cedric was more or less ignoring him, and waved an angry hand in his direction. “Just - just shut up, I have to think.” He dropped into a lawn chair that had been sitting out, and began rubbing his face with both hands. His voice was laced with panic as he began rapidly talking to himself. “I can’t go tonight, but I should be able to floo home first thing tomorrow morning. I am not going back on one of those damn planes; I don’t care if I do have a ticket. Although it’s going to cost me a bloody fortune travelling by floo. I hope I have enough cash on me. Ah fuck! What the hell am I supposed to tell my dad?”
“Cedric, will you listen to me?”
Cedric glared up at him. “I don’t really care what you have to say to me right now.”
Although Cedric was being rude as hell, Harry took heart in the fact that he already seemed more composed than he had just moments earlier. “Just listen, alright? Alida’s still in there waiting for you. You should probably talk to you her before you go ahead and do something thick.”
“Yeah, well I really don’t want to hear what she has to say, so she can just go back downstairs and leave me alone. I’ll be gone soon enough. Actually, maybe it’s not too late to find a hotel.”
Harry huffed in frustration. Whatever patience his job had taught him was already wearing thin. “You need to stop talking and let me explain something to you. Alida is not upset.” He spoke that last part slowly, enunciating every word to get the point across. “Being gay isn’t such a big deal for muggles. Alida was surprised, yeah, but she wasn’t - scandalized or anything.”
“I don’t give a fuck what she was!” yelled Cedric. “She has no right to barge into my private life like that. I can’t stay here.”
“Well at least talk to her first before you go running away to a hotel.”
Perhaps it was the accusation of cowardice that finally got through to him. Cedric stared at Harry angrily for a good few seconds without saying anything. Then he stood up from the chair, visibly steeling himself against the challenge. “Fine,” was all he said.
The two of them walked back around the corner and into the bedroom where Alida was still waiting, seated on one of the beds. She immediately stood as they entered. “Is everything alright?” she asked nervously, looking back and forth between them.
“You tell me,” Cedric answered. He had his arms crossed in front of his chest, and although he did his best to appear intimidating, Harry could tell he was terrified. He looked the same as he had on the plane that first day, his whole body tense and defensive. Actually, he reminded Harry of a cornered animal: frightened, trembling, and ready to attack.
“Are you upset with me?” asked Alida, still trying to get a grasp of the situation.
The question threw Cedric for a loop, and for a brief moment he lost his aggressive edge. “What? Why would I…no. No, I’m not.” He paused before adding, “Aren’t you?”
“What, upset? Of course not. I already talked to Harry.”
Cedric’s head whipped around to look at Harry, probably wondering what the hell Harry could have said to her.
Harry supposed now was the time to intervene. Funny that he should act as a muggle-wizard translator in a country where he didn’t even speak the language. He cleared his throat and addressed Alida. “Cedric was actually asking whether you were upset about his, er, being gay.”
Alida looked at Cedric and blinked, then frowned. Cedric looked back in horror, probably shocked that those words had been spoken out loud. “I may be getting on in years,” she finally said, “but I’m not that behind the times.”
From Cedric’s reaction, one would think that Alida had suddenly spoken Italian. He turned to Harry for the translation, and Harry shrugged. “Like I said. It’s not a big deal for muggles. I mean it used to be, years ago, and I guess in some places it still is, but for the most part people are fine with it. You can even get married now. Well, something like married.”
“Not in Italy. Not yet, at least.” Understanding began to finally form on Alida’s face. She regarded Cedric with a combination of pity and respect. “But it’s only a matter of time. The activists are more vocal than ever, and the younger generations especially are for it.”
One word in all of that caught Cedric’s attention. “Activists?”
Alida nodded. “That’s why so much has changed in recent years. People are considering it the next important civil rights movement.”
That simple statement left Cedric completely agape. In fact, he seemed so dumbfounded by the very idea that almost all traces of fear had vanished. “It’s a movement? An actual, organized movement?”
“Well, yeah,” said Harry. “Like elf rights or something. Only, you know, gay people aren’t elves.”
Cedric turned to Harry, and Harry saw that determined spark in his eyes. “Is there a group like that in London, do you think?” He spoke quietly, as though embarrassed to ask in front of Alida.
Harry grinned. “Are you kidding? I’m sure there are loads. You obviously haven’t seen the right parts of London yet.”
At that, Cedric finally smiled, the radiant one that could brighten a room. The tension broke like a damn, flooding Harry with relief that the main crisis had been averted. Cedric glanced back and forth between Harry and Alida, rubbing the back of his neck in an adorably uncomfortable gesture. “Er, I’m sorry if I’ve been acting like a bit of a dolt. This has been a very strange night for me.”
Alida walked straight up to him, and grasped both of his arms so that they were standing face to face. The gesture took him by surprise, and he immediately tensed as though this were the moment of judgment.
Alida studied his reaction closely. “Cedric, I want you to know that the only thing that matters to me is that you’re happy. And I can tell you beyond a shadow of a doubt that your mother would have felt the same way.”
Cedric’s face went blank. He just stood there, his arms at his side, his eyes full of emotion, as though he couldn’t properly process what Alida had just told him. Perhaps he couldn’t. Was that something he could even allow himself to believe, that his mother would have accepted him as he was? Harry supposed that was something Cedric would have to work out for himself.
After a few tense moments, Alida took one more step and pulled Cedric into a tight embrace. Cedric pressed his face to her shoulder and, a moment later, thanked her.
In the end, Harry wasn’t sure what role, if any, he had actually played in all of this. But, as he stood there watching the two of them become a family again, he got the distinct sense that it was now okay for him to leave Florence.
A/N: Phew. Only one chapter left! It's going to be an epilogue of sorts, and most likely shorter than this one. Heh. Thanks to everyone who's been reading and commenting!
Chapter 5
Pairing/Characters: Harry/Cedric, OFC
Rating: PG-13
Warning: My new favorite type of AU, in which Cedric replaces the epilogue.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter & friends belong to JKR.
Summary: Years after the war, the last place Harry expected to see Cedric was on a plane headed to Florence.
A/N: Links will take you to pretty pictures. Hugs and thanks to my beta and britpicker nagi_schwarz. Also, I'm somewhat amused that London actually was shut down due to a freakish snow storm shortly after I posted that last chapter. :)
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Harry was certain that Alida would notice something. As much as he tried to act normally, he kept glancing at Cedric, and laughing at things that weren’t that funny, and probably being the exact opposite of discreet. It wasn’t his fault that fooling around the night before had put him in such a good mood.
Cedric, on the other hand, was the image of composure. He smiled and chatted as though nothing had changed and only glanced back at Harry when Alida’s attention was elsewhere. At the moment, her attention was on finding the ticket line.
They were standing in a stone courtyard surrounded by the high, windowed walls of the Uffizi. Since it was the weekend, Alida was finally able to show them around the city herself, and they were starting with Florence’s preeminent art museum.
The interior of the museum was nearly as intimidating as the exterior. Some of the walls were covered floor to ceiling in oil paintings, and marble sculptures lined each hallway. Harry was grateful they had Alida as a guide; she claimed to have absorbed information from her late husband, but she sounded like an art scholar in her own right. Most of what they saw would have been meaningless to Harry without her insight.
“Where does the Vasari Corridor connect?” Cedric asked as they walked past portraits and landscapes.
He had asked several of those educated-type questions already, and Alida no longer looked surprised. In fact, she seemed faintly proud. “I can point it out to you when we step outside, though the corridor itself is only open for special tours.”
“What corridor?” asked Harry, who had been asking that particular question all morning. Cedric and Alida could show off all they wanted; Harry had no problem admitting he was clueless.
“It’s a passageway that connects the Palazzo Pitti to the Palazzo Vecchio,” Alida explained. “It was built so the Grand Duke could travel between them without actually going outside.”
“Vasari was the architect who designed it,” Cedric added. “He was also a painter and a very important historian. He was the first to record biographies of all the important muggle and wizarding artists of the Renaissance.”
“Wizarding?” This was clearly something Alida hadn’t known. “Vasari wrote about wizards?”
Cedric nodded. “It was in a second volume called Lives of the Most Magical Painters, Sculptors, and Architects. There was a copy at the Hogwarts library. If you’re interested, I could try finding one for you.”
“No, I wouldn’t want you to go through the trouble. And the names would be meaningless, anyway, unless I had the art in front of me to reference.” Cedric looked a bit disappointed, so Alida smiled and added, “I wouldn’t mind going to a wizarding art museum some time.”
It was clear Cedric appreciated the conciliatory gesture by the way his face lit up. It led to a comfortable, friendly lunch at a small bakery, free of any tension. Harry just hoped the mood would last.
From the panificio, they walked to the San Lorenzo market. Harry was expecting something along the lines of the craft market they had stumbled across on their first day, but it was nothing of the sort. Vendors took up every inch of the street, their booths dripping with jewelry, clothing, bags, and any number of souvenirs. Crowds of people wandered about, both tourists and Italians alike. Even in the cold of winter, the San Lorenzo market was bustling.
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Not long after they had arrived, Cedric excused himself to find the public floo that Doimo had marked on his map. Apparently it wasn’t too far from there, and he wanted to fire call home to let his dad know he was okay. He left in the direction they had come. Suddenly, Harry found himself alone with Alida.
They spent a minute or two just walking around, taking in the merchandise. Harry pointed out a few items just to break up the silence, but it was Alida who started a conversation.
“So tell me, Harry. How long have you known Cedric?”
It was a perfectly innocent question, but it already made Harry nervous. Alida didn’t really know anything about him, and certainly not about him and Cedric. He hoped he wouldn’t let anything slip in Cedric’s absence. “About ten years, since we were in school together. But we hadn’t seen each other in ages before I ran into him on the plane.”
“I see.” They walked a little further before Alida asked, “Is he enjoying himself here, do you think?”
Harry had a brief mental image of last night, and grinned before he could stop himself. “Yeah, we’ve been having loads of fun.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear that. I worry that he seems too serious for his age.”
“He’s a lot more relaxed once he lets his guard down.” That didn’t come out quite as Harry had intended, and he hoped he hadn’t inadvertently insulted Alida. Feeling embarrassed, he turned away from her to inspect a leather wallet.
“Was he the same way when you were in school together? Before - the war?”
Harry stilled, but didn’t turn around. “Maybe? I’m not sure. I didn’t really know him that well back then.”
There was a pause before Harry heard Alida sigh next to him. “He was too young to have lived through that. Both of you were.”
“We didn’t have a choice,” Harry said.
“There’s always a choice,” Alida replied.
Harry put down the wallet and faced her. The conversation was now taking a dangerous turn, and unless Harry wanted to lie outright, he would have to come clean and get it over with. “There’s something I should tell you. About me, I mean.” His eyes darted about the crowd. “But maybe not here.”
“I know who you are,” said Alida abruptly.
Harry froze. “Sorry?”
Alida adjusted her scarf, looking away apologetically. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but I already know who you are.”
Whether or not she meant to, the confession made Harry extremely uncomfortable. It colored all of their past interactions, and Harry could feel the weight of fame and responsibility being placed back on his shoulders. He had enjoyed being anonymous in this city, Cedric aside; now he felt the acute pain of being Harry Potter once more, and it came on sudden and sharp. He was also immediately reminded that Alida had lost a daughter because of him.
Perhaps unnerved by Harry’s silence, Alida continued. “My daughter told me about you after your first war ended. She phoned me on the nearest payphone - I hadn’t heard her voice in years. I remember she just kept repeating your name, over and over again.” Alida smiled sadly at the memory. “The next time I heard your name wasn’t until about four years ago, when I received my first letter from Cedric. I already knew my daughter had died, but no one had told me until then that your second war had ended. In any case, I remembered you from all those years ago.” She paused, brushing her fingers over a pile of wallets. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything earlier. I wanted to thank you the moment Cedric introduced you, but again, I was worried about making you uncomfortable. Perhaps I should have been more honest.”
“It’s all right,” Harry mumbled. “It was nice, I guess, thinking you didn’t know me.”
Alida looked at him for an uncomfortable moment. “You’re right, though. I didn’t know you.” She smiled and placed a comforting hand on Harry’s arm. “I’m glad I’ve had this opportunity to meet you, Harry. Now I feel as though I can thank you properly. So, thank you, for all you’ve done for me and my family.”
Harry generally disliked this sort of attention, especially from a victim’s family, but it did make him feel better to know where they stood. He was glad, at least, that he wouldn’t have to hide his past or take the time to explain himself. Eager to break the moment, Harry nodded across the way and said, “Can we look at those postcards?”
Alida followed him across the street, and together they flipped through photographs of everything Harry had seen so far, and many things he hadn’t. At one point he asked, “I wonder if there’s an owlery around?” mostly to himself. There were a few postcards he knew Hermione, in particular, would enjoy.
“Can I ask you something, Harry?” said Alida.
Harry shrugged by way of answer.
“You work for the airline, now. Was it difficult to adjust to the muggle world?”
“Not really,” he said, pulling out another card. “I was raised by muggles, so I know how to get by. Though there are some things that still throw me off.” He looked up at her, a thought forming in his mind. “I don’t - I don’t live in the muggle world, you know. I just work there. I still live in a flat without electricity, and all my friends are witches and wizards.”
“But you feel comfortable in both environments.”
Now Harry had an idea of what she was getting at. He responded as carefully as he could. “Yeah, I guess, but the wizarding world is my home. The muggle one…I’m not really invested in it, if that makes sense. It’s just somewhere to be, or somewhere to earn a living.” He tapped the postcard against his leg thoughtfully. “I have a really good friend who’s muggleborn. I think she has a harder time than I do. She told me once it feels like being two different people, or living in two different places at the same time. Then again, she’s sort of the type who needs to know everything and do everything, so maybe she’s not the best example.” Harry shrugged.
Alida was about to respond, but that was when she spotted Cedric making his way back towards them, and the subject was dropped.
Harry ended up buying a few postcards, which he decided to send by regular post. Hermione - who of course had a proper postbox - could pass them on to everyone else.
***
The three of them sat around the dinner table, finishing off their wine and planning tomorrow’s events. Harry tried not to get involved, since he didn’t know where he would be tomorrow. What he was really looking forward to was another night spent with Cedric. He considered claiming fatigue and heading upstairs early, and wondered if Cedric would get the hint and join him.
Of course, he didn’t want to interrupt Cedric and Alida’s time together. Earlier, they had enjoyed an abstract discussion on history and art, topics to which Harry had contributed little. Cedric apparently had gone back to his earlier policy, so there had been virtually no mention of either wizards or muggles. Maybe that was for the best.
In fact, everything had been going quite well. Well, that is, until Harry had to go and knock over his wine glass.
It was an honest enough mistake; he had merely been reaching for another biscotto. There wasn’t much left in the glass, either, but what was there managed to leap over the table’s edge and splatter Alida’s beige carpeting.
Harry’s first response was to reach for a napkin, or wet a towel in the sink. It was Cedric who instinctively pulled out his wand and vanished the stain.
Alida stared at the missing stain for a moment, then got up from her seat. “Thank you, Cedric, I appreciate the help. If you’ll excuse me, I’m just going to get some spot treatment in case you missed anything.”
Cedric frowned. “I didn’t miss anything.”
“Oh, I’m not insulting your skill. I’m just rather fond of this carpet, so I like to be safe.”
“I didn’t miss anything,” Cedric repeated, with greater assertion.
Alida paused where she stood. “Please don’t take it personally. I just don’t want to take the risk, is all.”
“Because you assume that magic is a risk?”
Alida frowned. “That’s not what I said.” After a hesitant pause, she added, “What are you getting at, Cedric?”
That was the question he had been waiting for. Cedric took a deep breath, and Harry could tell he was about to say all the things he had been storing since his arrival. Harry immediately began thinking of ways to defuse the situation. Avoiding conflict was, after all, now a part of his job description. But Cedric spoke before Harry could intervene - not with the anger that Harry expected, but with forced calm.
“I know you don’t like magic. I know that’s why you and Mum had a falling out. But this is a part of who I am, and if you want me in your life you’re going to have to accept that.”
“And who told you this? Your mother?” Alida’s voice was just as steady as his, although she was tightly gripping the back of the chair.
There was a beat before Cedric said, “She didn’t have to tell me.”
Alida let go of the chair, and left the room. They could hear her on the stairs, and then walking about the second floor.
“Cedric-“
“I don’t want to hear it, Harry.”
Harry rubbed his face, and continued what he was about to say anyway. He liked Alida, and he didn’t like Cedric treating her this way. “She doesn’t deserve that, you know. She’s trying, at least, and that’s more than I could say about my muggle relatives.”
“I’m only being honest,” said Cedric with a stubborn determination in his eyes. “If I’m going to be staying here, we have to-“
Cedric was interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming back down the stairs. Alida reentered the room, walked to the table and handed Cedric a folder stuffed with papers and photographs. Cedric took it without question, and began looking through its contents. He had a similar reaction as he had that first night with the photo album. He visibly deflated, looking more exhausted than upset. From where he was sitting, Harry could make out a few of the objects: an old muggle photo of a small girl in front of a train; a letter written on yellowed parchment with green ink.
Alida took her seat, and clasped her hands on the table. “I have always supported your mother, from the moment she received that letter.”
Cedric furrowed his brow, but didn’t remove his eyes from the photos. “So what happened, then? Why were you two barely on speaking terms?”
Alida waited for Cedric to look up before responding. “It’s a bit more complicated than that. I’m afraid I -“ Alida sighed. “I don’t know where to begin. I haven’t been completely honest with you, Cedric.” Here she paused, and stood up to retrieve the rest of the wine from the kitchen. She offered both Cedric and Harry another glass before refilling her own, although she didn’t drink it right away, just held it in her hand.
“You see, when we moved to Florence . . . it wasn’t for my husband’s job. We moved because of the war. Your war. It was no longer safe for your mother, who had two muggle parents, to live in that part of the world, so we took her to Italy the moment she finished school.”
Alida took a sip of the wine before continuing her story, while both Harry and Cedric listened with rapt attention.
“You have to understand, we were only looking out for her safety. She resented us for it, your mother. She went along with it, but she resented us. What my husband and I didn’t realize, you see, didn’t even think to look into, was the fact that there are practically no magical folk left in Florence. You’ve probably noticed that yourself. In any case, your mother was miserable here, and that was really only one reason of many.”
Alida began gesturing as she spoke, in true Italian fashion. “There had been this - sense, this intuition I’d had for years, that she was growing more distant. At first I thought it was a typical adolescent phase. I always tried to give her a lot of freedom, and I assumed it was something she would grow out of. But every year, whenever she came home from Hogwarts, she seemed less and less a part of our lives. It started off small. She never expressed any interest in what was happening in “our” current events, or she would become easily frustrated with simple tasks that she was used to performing with magic. When she went out with friends, they always went someplace where she knew I couldn’t follow.”
It seemed like a topic to which Alida had given a lot of contemplation, thought Harry. He wondered how often she had this conversation with herself, and how long she had been waiting to share it with someone else. There was an intensity in her voice that spoke of a need to be heard and understood.
Alida stared at her wine glass and then took another sip. “I thought, very naively, that being here, being removed from all of that, would make things better, but they became much worse. Your mother was finally allowed to perform magic outside of school, you see. Suddenly, she was using magic for everything. It was…not upsetting, I’ve never had a problem with magic, but it made me - anxious, I suppose. It felt as though she were using magic as a wedge to drive between us. Perhaps I was being paranoid; perhaps not. In any case, one day, about a year after we had moved, I made the mistake of confronting her about it. I ended up saying some things I shouldn’t have said. And the next day, she was gone.”
Alida looked at Cedric with eyes full of sadness, and something else. “A few months later, I found out she had eloped. A year after that, and you were born.” Alida shook her head. “She was so young when she had you.”
They three of them sat there for a minute in silence before Cedric spoke. All the fight was gone from his eyes, but the determination remained in his voice. “Then I was right,” he said softly. “You don’t like magic. You think it ruined your relationship with Mum, and I understand that, but the fact remains that you don’t like talking about it, and you don’t like seeing it.”
“That’s not true.” Alida leaned in towards Cedric as though Harry’s presence had been completely forgotten. “What bothers me is seeing you so dependent on magic. I don’t want you to become - isolated like she was. I know you think my muggle ways are beneath you. You mother thought the same thing.” Cedric tried to interrupt, but Alida held up her hand to silence him. “No, Cedric. Fighting for muggles is not the same thing as being comfortable around muggles. I just want you to be comfortable here. With or without magic.” She placed her hand over Cedric’s on the table, and looked him straight in the eye. “I don’t want that barrier between us, because I want to see you as often as possible.”
With his free hand, Cedric covered Alida’s and gave it a small squeeze. “I want the same thing.”
And just as Harry was wondering if he should give the two of them some privacy, his mobile began to vibrate.
***
Fiesole looked unreal in the night sky, just a series of lights sprinkled over the peak of a low mountain. The air was chilly, even with a jacket, and the only sounds were the crickets and the brook that flowed beneath him to his left. The houses around here, even though they were residential and modern, still had a distinctive Italian flavor with their red tiled roofs and pale yellow walls. The view from the balcony was lovely.
Harry heard the glass doors behind him slide open, and soon Cedric was standing next to him.
“How is everything?” Harry asked as he half-turned, leaning his right arm against the ledge.
Without hesitation, Cedric raised a hand and threaded it through Harry’s hair, watching his own fingers move back and forth against Harry’s scalp before answering. “It’s good, I think. Or else it’s going to be. We both have some things to work on, but I’m glad we finally got it all out in the open.”
“Spoken like a true Hufflepuff,” Harry teased.
Cedric smirked, then moved his hand down to caress Harry’s cheek before continuing lower to massage the back of his neck. “You’ve packed,” he said.
Harry sighed and shrugged one shoulder. “I leave first thing tomorrow morning.”
The pressure on his neck grew more purposeful, and Harry closed his eyes because it felt so bloody good. He’d never known anyone to give spontaneous massages before. Without breaking momentum, Cedric turned him bodily so that he was leaning forward against the ledge. Now Cedric was behind him, focusing his attention on Harry’s shoulders.
“Fuck,” said Harry, long and low, to show his appreciation.
They were silent for a minute or two as Cedric worked his way down Harry’s back. Harry had his head resting on top of his folded arms and was dangerously close to falling asleep on his feet, Cedric was that good.
“What are you thinking about?” asked Cedric at one point.
“The Yule Ball,” answered Harry sleepily.
Cedric snorted. “The Yule Ball?”
“Well, I was thinking about you, and how much I resented you back then. You just seemed like you had everything figured out, you know? Like it was all so easy. Stupid, I know, but I was sort of jealous, to be honest.”
Cedric laughed, though the laugh was bitter. “Are you kidding? That year was probably one of the most difficult periods of my life.”
Harry turned his head to try and look over his shoulder. “But you were Champion. The real Champion, I mean. Everyone loved you. And you got to go to the ball with - oh, I guess that didn’t really help.”
“No, not so much.” Cedric pressed hard into Harry’s lower back, and Harry returned his head to its original position. After a pause, Cedric continued. “If anything, I was envious of you.”
Harry snorted in response, and Cedric hit him lightly on the back. “I’m being serious. No matter what you were dealing with, you always seemed - I don’t know - so comfortable in your own skin. Meanwhile, I was spending that whole year just trying to figure out who I was, trying to be as normal as possible. The tournament was part of it, I guess. Anyway, by the time we reached the cup, I had this sudden realization that even if I won, it wouldn’t really change anything.”
Harry felt the hands on him still, and then warm lips were pressed to the back of his neck. The kisses continued up towards his ear, making Harry squirm. After everything that had happened that night, he was a little surprised to find himself being seduced once again, and so soon - not that he was complaining.
Harry turned around and smiled as he leaned back against the ledge. Cedric still looked exhausted, but more relaxed than before, as though giving a massage were more therapeutic than receiving one. Without preamble, Harry wrapped his arms around Cedric’s waist and brought him into a proper kiss.
Despite the cold, they remained outside for a while, warming each other with mouths and body heat. There was no way of knowing how long it would be until they were both back in London, and so Harry preferred to take his time over getting any sleep. The kisses were slow and restrained, almost to the point of teasing. Cedric had his hands once again on Harry’s back, while Harry - who was already loose from the massage - practically melted under the touch. The air smelled of running water and Cedric.
Since Harry wasn’t keeping track of time, he wasn’t exactly sure how long they were out there. The kiss probably could have lasted all night if they hadn’t been interrupted by the faint sound of a door opening from inside their room.
One second, Cedric was locked to Harry’s mouth; the next second, there was a good three feet between them. Through the glass doors, they could see Alida staring at them, the doorknob still in her hand. Harry could tell by the surprise in her face that it was too late; she had already seen enough.
Harry froze for a second, then opened the sliding doors and stepped into the bedroom, assuming that Cedric would follow behind. “Hi,” he said, for lack of anything else to say.
“I’m so sorry,” Alida immediately apologized. “I knocked first, but no one answered. I didn’t mean to barge in.”
“It’s your house,” Harry reminded her. “Actually, I - I hope you’re not upset. We only started seeing each other yesterday, so we haven’t been going behind your back or anything. Although I guess we still should have said something. I’m sorry you found out like this.”
“Don’t be daft,” said Alida with sincerity. “You’re both adults. You don’t need my permission.” She looked over Harry’s shoulder and frowned. “Where is Cedric?”
Harry spun around, and sure enough, Cedric was nowhere to be seen. He must have escaped to another side of the balcony, one without windows. Harry’s heart sank; this didn’t bode well. “Hold on,” he said. “I’ll go and get him.”
He found Cedric easily enough; it’s not as though he had many options for places to hide. Cedric was standing hunched over the balcony’s ledge, the heels of his palms pressed to his eyes. From the movement of his shoulders, he seemed to be taking deep, steadying breaths.
Harry approached as carefully as he could. “Cedric? Are you alright?”
Cedric said nothing, and made no indication that he had heard Harry at all.
Not knowing exactly what to do, Harry walked up next to him, and lightly placed his hand on Cedric’s shoulder. As soon as he made physical contact, Cedric jumped as though he had been burned.
“Don’t touch me!” he shouted. “This is your fault. I never should have brought you here.”
At another time in his life, those words may have stung, but Harry had dealt with enough unruly flight passengers to know not to respond in kind. This wasn’t about him. So he ignored the outburst and instead turned his focus back on Cedric, who was now pacing the length of the wall.
“Calm down,” he said in a low voice. “It’s okay. She’s not upset, you know.”
Cedric was more or less ignoring him, and waved an angry hand in his direction. “Just - just shut up, I have to think.” He dropped into a lawn chair that had been sitting out, and began rubbing his face with both hands. His voice was laced with panic as he began rapidly talking to himself. “I can’t go tonight, but I should be able to floo home first thing tomorrow morning. I am not going back on one of those damn planes; I don’t care if I do have a ticket. Although it’s going to cost me a bloody fortune travelling by floo. I hope I have enough cash on me. Ah fuck! What the hell am I supposed to tell my dad?”
“Cedric, will you listen to me?”
Cedric glared up at him. “I don’t really care what you have to say to me right now.”
Although Cedric was being rude as hell, Harry took heart in the fact that he already seemed more composed than he had just moments earlier. “Just listen, alright? Alida’s still in there waiting for you. You should probably talk to you her before you go ahead and do something thick.”
“Yeah, well I really don’t want to hear what she has to say, so she can just go back downstairs and leave me alone. I’ll be gone soon enough. Actually, maybe it’s not too late to find a hotel.”
Harry huffed in frustration. Whatever patience his job had taught him was already wearing thin. “You need to stop talking and let me explain something to you. Alida is not upset.” He spoke that last part slowly, enunciating every word to get the point across. “Being gay isn’t such a big deal for muggles. Alida was surprised, yeah, but she wasn’t - scandalized or anything.”
“I don’t give a fuck what she was!” yelled Cedric. “She has no right to barge into my private life like that. I can’t stay here.”
“Well at least talk to her first before you go running away to a hotel.”
Perhaps it was the accusation of cowardice that finally got through to him. Cedric stared at Harry angrily for a good few seconds without saying anything. Then he stood up from the chair, visibly steeling himself against the challenge. “Fine,” was all he said.
The two of them walked back around the corner and into the bedroom where Alida was still waiting, seated on one of the beds. She immediately stood as they entered. “Is everything alright?” she asked nervously, looking back and forth between them.
“You tell me,” Cedric answered. He had his arms crossed in front of his chest, and although he did his best to appear intimidating, Harry could tell he was terrified. He looked the same as he had on the plane that first day, his whole body tense and defensive. Actually, he reminded Harry of a cornered animal: frightened, trembling, and ready to attack.
“Are you upset with me?” asked Alida, still trying to get a grasp of the situation.
The question threw Cedric for a loop, and for a brief moment he lost his aggressive edge. “What? Why would I…no. No, I’m not.” He paused before adding, “Aren’t you?”
“What, upset? Of course not. I already talked to Harry.”
Cedric’s head whipped around to look at Harry, probably wondering what the hell Harry could have said to her.
Harry supposed now was the time to intervene. Funny that he should act as a muggle-wizard translator in a country where he didn’t even speak the language. He cleared his throat and addressed Alida. “Cedric was actually asking whether you were upset about his, er, being gay.”
Alida looked at Cedric and blinked, then frowned. Cedric looked back in horror, probably shocked that those words had been spoken out loud. “I may be getting on in years,” she finally said, “but I’m not that behind the times.”
From Cedric’s reaction, one would think that Alida had suddenly spoken Italian. He turned to Harry for the translation, and Harry shrugged. “Like I said. It’s not a big deal for muggles. I mean it used to be, years ago, and I guess in some places it still is, but for the most part people are fine with it. You can even get married now. Well, something like married.”
“Not in Italy. Not yet, at least.” Understanding began to finally form on Alida’s face. She regarded Cedric with a combination of pity and respect. “But it’s only a matter of time. The activists are more vocal than ever, and the younger generations especially are for it.”
One word in all of that caught Cedric’s attention. “Activists?”
Alida nodded. “That’s why so much has changed in recent years. People are considering it the next important civil rights movement.”
That simple statement left Cedric completely agape. In fact, he seemed so dumbfounded by the very idea that almost all traces of fear had vanished. “It’s a movement? An actual, organized movement?”
“Well, yeah,” said Harry. “Like elf rights or something. Only, you know, gay people aren’t elves.”
Cedric turned to Harry, and Harry saw that determined spark in his eyes. “Is there a group like that in London, do you think?” He spoke quietly, as though embarrassed to ask in front of Alida.
Harry grinned. “Are you kidding? I’m sure there are loads. You obviously haven’t seen the right parts of London yet.”
At that, Cedric finally smiled, the radiant one that could brighten a room. The tension broke like a damn, flooding Harry with relief that the main crisis had been averted. Cedric glanced back and forth between Harry and Alida, rubbing the back of his neck in an adorably uncomfortable gesture. “Er, I’m sorry if I’ve been acting like a bit of a dolt. This has been a very strange night for me.”
Alida walked straight up to him, and grasped both of his arms so that they were standing face to face. The gesture took him by surprise, and he immediately tensed as though this were the moment of judgment.
Alida studied his reaction closely. “Cedric, I want you to know that the only thing that matters to me is that you’re happy. And I can tell you beyond a shadow of a doubt that your mother would have felt the same way.”
Cedric’s face went blank. He just stood there, his arms at his side, his eyes full of emotion, as though he couldn’t properly process what Alida had just told him. Perhaps he couldn’t. Was that something he could even allow himself to believe, that his mother would have accepted him as he was? Harry supposed that was something Cedric would have to work out for himself.
After a few tense moments, Alida took one more step and pulled Cedric into a tight embrace. Cedric pressed his face to her shoulder and, a moment later, thanked her.
In the end, Harry wasn’t sure what role, if any, he had actually played in all of this. But, as he stood there watching the two of them become a family again, he got the distinct sense that it was now okay for him to leave Florence.
A/N: Phew. Only one chapter left! It's going to be an epilogue of sorts, and most likely shorter than this one. Heh. Thanks to everyone who's been reading and commenting!
Chapter 5