Fic: Sound of the Revolution, Chapter 10
Title: Sound of the Revolution, Chapter 10
Author: kevo
Pairing: Harry + Cedric.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership to these characters or the series they’re from.
Summary: In his fifth year, Harry faces ostracism with boyfriend Cedric for coming out and for declaring Voldemort has returned. (Order of the Phoenix canon re-write.)
Author’s Note: This is my favorite chapter of this story that I’ve written in quite some time. It’s the one I’ve been most keen to write. Hope you like it!
( A Lack of Color - Chapter One)
( A Lack of Color - Chapter Thirty)
( Sound of the Revolution - Chapter One)
- - - - - - - - -
( Sound of the Revolution - Chapter Nine)
The Love So Green Collection
Playlist #2:
sound of the revolution
CHAPTER TEN
“Heads Will Roll”
“We,” Cedric declared, plopping down at the study table next to Harry, “are going out.”
“Er, yes, Cedric, we are,” said Harry. “Over a year now, yeah?”
“No, no, I don't mean - what I meant was, we're going on a proper date. Next weekend.”
“Really?” Harry smiled. “I like the sound of that.”
“I figured, you know, since we missed Valentine's Day last year, we ought to make up for it with this one, you know?”
“Definitely,” Harry said.
Thankfully, his Occlumency lessons were already making it slightly easier to block their Scar Sense. Otherwise Cedric might’ve felt Harry’s stomach drop as he realized he’d completely forgotten Valentine’s Day was that weekend. Sometimes he really sucked at this boyfriend stuff.
Leaning a bit closer, Cedric went on to say, “And, listen, I don’t want you to get me anything, okay? Maybe you have already, I don’t know…”
“Um, I had something in mind but, uh, didn’t make any purchases yet,” Harry fibbed.
“Good, that’s good,” Cedric said. “I thought instead it might be nice to sit down together somewhere, like we used to during the summer in Little Whinging. Have you been to Madame Puddifoot’s before?”
“Can’t say I have,” Harry replied, his brow furrowing. He never even heard of the place. Was it possible there were still areas in the tiny village that were as yet unknown to him?
“I figured as much,” said Cedric. “It’s more for couples.”
“And -” Harry hesitated. “And you’re sure you want us to go there then?”
Since their first trip to Hogsmeade as a couple, back in October, Cedric had been squeamish about a repeat performance. This may have had more to do with Mrs. Diggory’s ambush than the funny looks they got from the village’s inhabitants, but Harry wasn’t willing to bet on it.
“Absolutely,” Cedric insisted. “Why, don’t you?”
“No, I do!” Harry assured him. “It - It sounds fun. Madame Puddifoot’s, was it?”
“Yeah,” answered Cedric. “I haven’t been either, but I hear it’s quaint. Kellan and Taylor always take their dates there, anyway. So what do you say?”
“I say you’ve got yourself a date, Mr. Diggory.”
O O O O O O O
The prospect of a real and proper date was exhilarating, if a little daunting. What they’d done in Little Whinging could probably be called dates, except not really because they couldn’t be the least bit affectionate. Not like they can in Hogsmeade, where there’s little harm since everyone already knows about them. He made sure to wear the nicest shirt he had, and fussed with his hair for ten minutes to make it behave. Harry wanted their day to be perfect.
So when Hermione dropped down beside him Saturday morning and frantically said, “Harry, I need you to drop whatever you’re doing today and meet me around noon in the Three Broomsticks,” he wasn’t pleased.
“What?” Harry squawked, dribbling a bit of egg down his chin. “I - no, no-no, I can’t. What are you - Hermione, it’s Valentine’s Day.”
“I’m aware what day it is, Harry,” Hermione replied hotly.
“Yeah, well, Cedric and I have plans. Boyfriendly plans. Plans that don’t involve meeting you for lunch, sorry.”
“Harry, please,” begged Hermione. She seemed genuinely distressed. “It’s-it’s important. I don’t have time to argue or explain, I need to respond to this letter immediately.” She waved the parchment wildly to emphasize her point. “Just say you’ll do this for me, please?”
“I, uh… What about Cedric?”
“Bring him,” she said. “I was going to ask you to anyway.”
“Ehh, all right,” Harry sighed in defeat. “I’ll talk to him about it.”
“Great,” Hermione said, springing to her feet. “Thank you. You won’t regret this.”
The ominous feeling Harry was developing based on her frantic and secretive behavior said otherwise, but he shrugged it off. Hermione had always been there for him. He figured he owed her the odd unquestioned favor here and there.
“You coming as well?” Harry asked Ron, who had been silent throughout breakfast.
“Can’t,” he responded. “Practice. Just as well. I’d rather not be in Hogsmeade today, y’know? Happy couples and all.”
“Right,” Harry frowned. “Gotcha.” Noticing Cedric getting up from the Hufflepuff table, he too rose from his seat, saying, “Speaking of happy couples. I’ll see you later, okay? Good luck with practice.”
“Cheers,” said Ron. “Have fun with the Hottie.”
“Always do.”
They met at the entrance to the Great Hall, Cedric greeting Harry with a smile and a, “Hey there.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Harry said back.
“You too,” said Cedric. “Ready to go?”
“Yeah, slight problem, though…”
As they waited on line for Filch to sign them out for the day, Harry explained Hermione’s sudden request.
“That’s really strange,” Cedric mused, fiddling with his Hufflepuff scarf. “Hermione’s generally more forthcoming than that, isn’t she?”
“Not always,” Harry replied. He could recall a number of times she’d behaved so erratically. “Mostly when she gets like this, it means something serious is going on.”
“Suppose we don’t have a choice then, do we?”
“I’m sorry,” Harry sulked. “I should’ve told her no. It’s Valentine’s and all.”
“It’s just a day, Harry,” Cedric said, putting a comforting arm across Harry’s shoulders. “This will be a brief, albeit unfortunate, detour. We still have the morning, and maybe whatever she needs won’t even take that long and we can have most of the afternoon together as well. So cheer up, all right?”
“Well, if you insist on being all optimistic about it,” Harry joked.
They walked to Hogsmeade that way, joking and laughing, Cedric’s arm still slung around Harry. If they got sideways glances from passersby, Cedric seemed not to notice. Harry was grateful for Cedric’s change in attitude, yet he couldn’t help pondering what brought it about. He wasn’t nearly this comfortable in the fall.
Then he recalled Hermione’s behavior over the break, after Mr. Weasley’s near-death experience. How she was much sweeter and affectionate towards Ron those few weeks at Grimmauld place. Perhaps with everything that happened lately, the snake dream and the Death Eater escape and Umbridge’s constantly looming shadow touching everything, Cedric was doing the same thing now.
Whatever the cause, Harry was more than happy to reap the benefits of this unexpected transformation.
Turning down a narrow side street Harry never gave much thought to before, the boys arrived at Madame Puddifoot’s Tea Shop.
“Huh,” Cedric said as they entered.
“It’s a bit…” Harry searched for a word to describe the shop.
“Girly?” Cedric supplied quietly.
“Yeah, sort of,” Harry muttered back. “The, uh, the little flying babies and pink confetti aren’t helping much, either.”
“Do you want to leave?”
“No, it’s fine,” said Harry. “Can’t hurt to try something new, right?”
There were a limited number of free tables remaining, so they grabbed one fast. Cedric’s dorm mate Kellan was already seated with a Hufflepuff girl whose name Harry couldn’t remember. He nodded hello briefly, keeping his focus on his companion.
“Didn’t know Kel and Adrianna were getting together,” Cedric observed. “She used to tease him something fierce back in the day, saying he thought he was Merlin’s gift to witches.”
“People change, I guess,” Harry replied.
“Too right, that.”
“Hello there, m’dears,” a stout woman Harry guessed to be Madame Puddifoot greeted them. “Are you two waiting for your dates to arrive or would you like to order now?”
It was such a startlingly unanticipated moment that neither boy reacted at first. Couldn’t she recognize who she was speaking to? Didn’t she read the papers? It wasn’t entirely inconceivable that the answer to both these questions was no, but the chances were so slim that Harry didn’t even know what to say.
“Uh, actually, ma’am,” Cedric answered slowly, reaching across the table to take the hand Harry had rested there, “we’re not waiting for anyone.”
“Oh!” The witch turned pinker than the cherubs’ confetti. “Oh, I see. I’m - goodness gracious, I’m so sorry. I didn’t - I mean to say, I’ve never…” She raised the order pad in her shaking hand. “What will it be then?”
“I’ll have a coffee, please,” said Cedric. “And you, Harry?”
“I’ll, uh, have the same, I s’pose.”
“Right,” Madame Puddifoot said. “T-two coffees, coming right up.”
She scurried away as swiftly as she could between the tightly-packed tables.
“That was weird,” Cedric noted with a nervous chuckle.
“Right?” Harry agreed. “I didn’t think there was anyone left in our world who didn’t know about us.” His hand felt oddly uncomfortable in Cedric’s for once. Harry shifted in his seat. “Do you think… Should we maybe ease up a bit?”
“Weren’t you the one who made a fuss over holding hands a few months ago?” Cedric asked.
“We - I don’t - You’re right, sorry,” Harry stammered. “Just wasn’t expecting that.”
“Hey, c’mere.”
Cedric leaned across the table to give a light peck.
“Ugh,” a voice cried out.
A Ravenclaw girl at a nearby table was glaring at them with disgust. Her boyfriend didn’t seem happy about what he was seeing either.
“D’you mind?” she sneered.
“I do actually,” Cedric responded.
“She’s right,” said a Slytherin boy at another table. “It’s bad enough you two have to parade that shit around at school. Can’t you leave anywhere safe for us normal people?”
His date, looking mortified, mumbled, “Bernie, leave it alone…”
“Oy, watch it, mate,” said Kellan, who had turned around in his chair when the commotion began.
“Oh, and what’re you gonna do, throw me out?” the Slytherin mocked.
“No, but I will.”
Madame Puddifoot had reappeared, gripping a tray of coffees so tightly that her knuckles were white.
“You can get out, right now,” she said. “Same goes for you two over there, and anyone else who has a problem with these boys. This is my shop, and I won’t tolerate that sort of thing in here. Especially not today.”
The Slytherin and his date, as well as the Ravenclaw and hers and a third couple from the corner, slunk silently out the door. After a beat, everyone else went back to their own business. It was still Valentine’s Day, after all. They had better things to think about. Madame Puddifoot came to the boys’ table to deliver their coffees.
“Thank you for that,” Cedric said. “It was very kind of you to say.”
“I had a friend in school who was a lesbian,” Madame Puddifoot told them. “She had a tough time of it. I’m sad to say I was one of the ones who didn’t take the news too well. I was a kid, you know? But I suppose that’s no excuse. She took her own life soon after graduation. I wish I’d been kinder to her when I had the chance.” She gave them a tight, watery smile. “You two will always be welcome here.”
“Thanks,” Cedric replied.
“Yeah, thanks,” echoed Harry.
They enjoyed their coffees together without further incident.
Noon rapidly approached and, after paying their bill and leaving a very generous tip, the boys made their way to the Three Broomsticks as promised. It had begun raining while they were in Puddifoot’s so they moved briskly, huddled together under Cedric’s jacket, thrown over their heads to protect them from the shower.
Hermione was waiting when they arrived, already at a table. Seated with her were Luna Lovegood and - No. It couldn’t be.
“Harry, is that…?”
“I think it is.”
Looking slightly worse for wear, and like she would much rather be anywhere else, was Rita Skeeter, former Daily Prophet journalist and general pain in Harry’s butt.
“Ah, boys, you’re just in time,” Hermione beamed, as if there was nothing odd about her choice of companions. Like they were meeting for their regular game of bridge. “I just finished explaining to Rita why I’ve called you all here.”
“On a fool’s errand,” Rita muttered. “You know, I haven’t agreed to do it yet, girlie.”
“You will,” Hermione replied flatly. “Beyond the fact that I have information that would get you thrown in Azkaban, you know the value of what I’m offering. This story -”
“This story is nothing!” Rita snapped. “No one wants to buy what you’re selling, missy. They want gossip, intrigue. If it weren’t for you, I could be making a killing right now. Sirius Black’s break out of his Death Eater comrades, Dumbledore’s slipping grasp on Hogwarts, not to mention Harry Potter’s torrid homosexual affair with fellow Hogwarts student and former competing Triwizard champion Cedric Diggory.”
“Wow, so you actually speak like a trashy newspaper in regular conversation then,” Cedric marveled.
“It’s a gift,” she sneered.
“You can make a killing off of this and you know it,” Hermione said. “Being the person to break this story, to tell the world the truth, you’d be revered. So much that it pains me to give it to you, but I’m desperate. And so are you, which is the final reason I know you’ll do it.”
“Um, hello?” said Harry, raising a hand. “I’m still not sure what’s going on here. What story?”
“Your story,” Hermione told him, eyes ablaze with excitement. “Yours and Cedric’s. The truth about what happened last June, what’s happening even now. Rita will interview you, and Luna’s father will print it in his magazine.”
This proposition was somehow stranger than the thought of Hermione, Rita, and Luna playing bridge. Ludicrous, that’s what it was.
“Merlin’s bloody goddamn - Hermione, can I talk to you over here for a second?”
Without waiting for an answer, Harry stood and moved to the nearest private corner of the pub. Hermione and Cedric both followed him.
In the lowest voice he could manage, Harry hissed, “Have you completely lost your mind?”
“Why is this so crazy?” Hermione asked, folding her arms across her chest.
“Well, for starters, you couldn’t tell me this was your plan?”
“Honestly, no,” said Hermione. “It may seem uncouth, but I thought it would be best to spring it on you last minute. Had I said something before now, you might have said no.”
“I still might say no,” Harry huffed. “This goes against everything Moody told us!”
“How does it do that?” Hermione challenged. “You wouldn’t be saying anything Dumbledore hasn’t since last June. Only now it would finally be printed in a reputed periodical.”
“Reputed?” Harry echoed.
“It means -”
“I know what it means, Hermione. But The Quibbler?”
“Oh. Well, I know it isn’t the most respected of titles…”
“That’s putting it lightly,” Harry scoffed.
“Oh, what do you know from newspapers?” Hermione replied. “You wouldn’t have read past the front page of the Prophet this summer if your boyfriend hadn’t told you to!”
“That is so - You don’t know that!” At the mention of him, Harry looked at Cedric. “You’ve been awfully quiet. What do you make of all this?”
Cedric shrugged.
“I…I don’t know.”
Even with his Occlumency lessons, Harry could feel Cedric’s trepidation, and imagined he was projecting a fair amount of it himself. The two of them hadn’t had a lot of luck with the press, especially of late. And putting their fates in the hands of Rita Skeeter was like trusting a cat with a particularly plump mouse.
“It’s not - I mean, it couldn’t hurt,” Cedric said at last.
“It probably could hurt, actually,” Harry argued.
“I guess. Still. I think - I think we should do it.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” said Cedric. “Maybe it’s crazy, maybe it’s stupid, but I don’t care. I want our story out there. The truth.”
There were a number of emotions coming off of Cedric now; determination, [something], and still a decent amount of fear. This was important to him.
“Yeah,” Harry said. “Yeah, okay. Let’s do it then.”
He took Cedric’s hand and led him back to the table, where their interviewer was ordering another firewhisky.
O O O O O O O
Their cross-examination by Rita Skeeter was neither pleasant nor short. She spent almost two hours squeezing every detail Harry and Cedric were willing to divulge. A few times she pressed too hard about the wrong subjects, and Harry nearly walked out. Whenever this happened, Cedric’s hand found its way to Harry’s knee, where it would sit, reassuringly, until Harry was calm again.
By the time it was all over, the afternoon had been spent.
As if that wasn’t stressful enough, the thing Harry had been dreading since the school year began was finally here:
The Gryffindor/Hufflepuff Quidditch match.
He and Cedric teased one another about it months ago, the idea of them going broom-to-broom on the pitch. It all seemed so innocent until Angelina pulled Harry aside after a practice back in October.
“You and Diggory have something going on, yeah?” she had asked.
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” Harry had answered her. “But yes, we do.”
“It is my business,” she’d snapped, “because you’re my Seeker, and he’s the enemy. I want your word that you won’t go all moony when we play Hufflepuff in a few months.”
“I’ve never gone ‘moony’ before,” Harry grumped.
“What do you call that Quidditch match in your third year?” Angelina said. “When Wood told you off for not playing your best against Chang from Ravenclaw?”
“That - That was nothing,” Harry replied, caught off-guard by the comparison. “I was just a kid back then.”
“Come off it, that wasn’t even two years ago,” Angelina had pointed out, and her tone softened slightly there, the tiniest sliver of understanding edging in. “Listen, just promise me it won’t affect your game, all right?”
“Of course it won’t,” Harry promised.
Since then, Harry made every effort not to think about the impending match. Angelina was right to take him aside, unpleasant as it was. He could argue that he never did any less than his best when competing against Cedric during the Tournament, but how much of that was competing against one another? Only the maze, really, and then they’d ultimately ended up working together. That wasn’t an option in Quidditch.
Being banned from the game was almost a blessing. It physically pained Harry to think of his Firebolt locked up in Umbridge’s office, but no more than it did to imagine snatching the Snitch out from under his own boyfriend. Or worse, to imagine Cedric taking it from him. Part of Harry even wondered if Cedric would have thrown the game on purpose. That was the worst scenario of all. Defeating Cedric or losing to him were one thing. Having victory handed to him would be humiliating.
The thing Harry didn’t anticipate was how difficult it would be to watch the team, his team, lose without him, knowing they would’ve stood a much better chance if he was up there with them. Not that Ginny didn’t put up a good fight for a first-timer, and perhaps against a less seasoned Seeker she might’ve stood a chance. But Cedric wasn’t Captain of the Hufflepuff team for nothing. That fact was of little comfort considering Gryffindor lost by over three-hundred points.
The crushing loss left Harry angry and bitter, with nowhere to direct those feelings. He couldn’t retaliate on Umbridge, the truly blameworthy party, much as he wanted to. Nor did he begrudge Ginny taking his place, much as he wished he could.
Normally he’d take his frustration out on the opposing team, ranting and insulting them back in the common room with the rest of Gryffindor. Only now that enemy was his boyfriend. Thinking of him that way, as an enemy, even in jest, it felt wrong. It was wrong. Was this what all inter-house couples went through after a bad Quidditch match?
Considering what happened after his last Quidditch game, Harry was apprehensive about seeing Cedric. He didn’t want another argument, although it seemed inevitable. After all, if they fought over something as trivial as Draco Malfoy… Although it went against all of his instincts, Harry stayed away from Cedric that evening. Not that it proved difficult. The older boy was no doubt celebrating his team’s victory anyway. This was Hufflepuff’s second consecutive win against Gryffindor. That made it doubly special to them.
His evasion tactics continued on into the next day. Their usual routine was to meet in the library do the weekend’s homework together on Sundays. He certainly missed that, as he’d forgotten how laborious completing his assignments alone was. But it did keep his mind busy. Dinner arrived in no time. He expected to cross paths with Cedric in the Great Hall, and readied himself for it, yet it didn’t happen. At first he thought Cedric might not have made it to dinner.
Then Harry caught sight of him at the Hufflepuff table, eating, not looking at the Gryffindor table. It was like November all over again! And without a single heated word being exchanged. How was that even possible?
Harry stared at the neighboring table until finally Cedric glanced up. Their eyes locked. He smiled, strained but honest, and gave a little wave. Harry smiled and nodded back. It was a marked change from the last time they did this. Cedric stood up from the table a minute later and walked out of the Great Hall. Harry debated catching up with him, to say… To say what? The match, the defeat, it was all too fresh still.
Instead, Harry finished his meal, quietly contemplating how much longer they would dodge each other, and if there was even a way to solve a problem they couldn’t speak about.
O O O O O O O
In light of his personal life being so in flux, Harry was utterly unprepared for how much his public life changed Monday morning with the release of the March edition of The Quibbler. If he’d known there’d be such an overwhelming response to his interview, he might’ve kept better tabs on when it was coming out.
The outpouring of support was more than Harry ever expected, more than he could’ve even hoped for. By Tuesday, a new trend had taken over Hogwarts for those who believed Harry and Cedric’s story. Popping up all over, on schoolbags and clothing and even on people’s skin, were lightning bolts. Tiny zigzags that matched, to the best of the artist’s ability, the twin curse scars that Harry and Cedric bore. Less permanent, perhaps, but nearly as meaningful. So meaningful that Umbridge, already furious over the article, was beside herself. It didn’t take long for an Educational Decree to ban the symbol. That didn’t stop it from being surreptitiously graffiti’ed onto walls and tapestries.
It was great and everything, fantastic even. The problem was that the one person Harry wanted to share this long-awaited moment in the spotlight with was the one person he wasn’t talking to at the moment. Despite everything that was happening, things between them weren’t suddenly all better. Maybe it should’ve but it didn’t feel like they were.
With how swamped Harry was, students and teachers clamoring to offer their encouragement, he could hardly find a moment for himself, let alone for reconciling with his boyfriend. He went out of his way to a seldom-used boys’ lavatory on his way to dinner for some privacy. At long last, after two days, he had a moment of peace.
Until a quiet voice behind him said, “Um, excuse me?”
Harry took in a breath to maintain his calm.
“Listen,” he said, “I’ll be happy to hear to whatever you have to say in a moment, but right now isn’t really the best time.”
“Oh, of course, I-I didn’t mean t-to bother you,” the other boy replied in a rush. “I’ll, uh. I’ll just. Wait. Til you’re d-done.”
Nodding, Harry attempted to go back about his business. Except he could feel this stranger’s eyes on him. Watching him. Waiting. It was like someone stuck a cork in Harry’s... Anyway, there was no going now. Luckily it wasn’t an emergency. He zipped up and went to the sink.
“Now, how can I help you, er...?”
He looked at the boy in the mirror. He was handsome if small, dark-haired and olive-skinned. What surprised Harry was the flash of green and silver he caught on the boy’s chest. Slytherin? Thus far, members of every house had shown their encouragement in some way or another. Every house, that is, except Slytherin. Harry hadn’t expected any of them to come forward. It was the nature of his relationship with their house.
Maybe this isn’t encouragement after all, Harry thought, preparing himself for the worst. He became very mindful of where his wand was, stowed in the folds of his robes.
“Paul,” the boy said. “My name is Paul.”
“What can I do for you, Paul?” Harry asked. He folded his arms across his chest in an attempt to appear intimidating. Not hard, considering the smaller boy looked to be about thirteen.
“I-I-I j-just, I-I w-wanted to, to say...”
The stammer, teamed with the tie and the boy’s anxious demeanor, triggered a memory.
“Hang on, I know you!” Harry said. “You were at the New Year’s Eve Party last year, the one the Weasley twins hosted.”
“Oh, y-you remember that?” Paul grimaced.
“Yeah, I do,” said Harry. “They were completely out of order.”
“I-I-I’m used to it,” Paul shrugged. “Anyway, your boyfriend was real nice about it. I wanted to say something then, t-to thank him, but I was too nervous.”
“You had more to be nervous about with Fred and George,” Harry advised. “Cedric’s about the nicest bloke you’ll ever meet.”
“No, I know. That’s, er, that’s why he made me so nervous.” Paul’s voice lowered almost to a whisper as his eyes glued themselves to the sink at Harry’s right. “He… He’s really cute.”
Ah. So that was why this young Slytherin sought Harry out.
“Yes, he is,” Harry grinned. “Then you’re -?”
“Like you two?” Paul supplied. Harry nodded, remembering when he himself was too scared to say the word out loud. “Yeah, I am. I-I haven’t told anyone that before. Only one other person knows.”
“And who’s that then?”
“His name is Danny,” said Paul. “He’s a Gryffindor, same as you, only a year below yours, like I am.”
“You’re fourteen?” Harry asked. He winced as he realized the astonishment in his tone may have been insulting.
“Almost fifteen, actually,” Paul blushed. “In June, that is. I know, I’m small for my age. It’s a miracle Danny ever even noticed me.”
Harry racked his brains trying to place the boy that Paul was referring to. He didn’t pay much attention to the students in years below him, apart from Ginny. And occasionally Colin Creevey, although Harry didn’t so much pay him attention as be assaulted by him.
“I don’t think I know him,” Harry said. He led them over to the windowsill to sit. “Why don’t you tell me about him, eh?”
“He’s brilliant,” said Paul. “Truly. Not at school, mind you. If he applied himself, sure, but… He never listens. I think he’s still finding himself, y’know? I tell him, O.W.L.s are coming up next year, you’re going to have to figure out what it is you want to do soon.”
“You sound like my friend Hermione,” Harry noted.
“Hermione Granger?” Paul asked. “She’s not a bad person to emulate. Professor Burbage has a test done by her in Muggle Studies, she got over three-hundred percent.”
“Burbage is still showing off that test?” Harry laughed. “Blimey. I’ll be she doesn’t mention Hermione is Muggle-born, either.”
“No, not as such.”
“Hang on, you take Muggle Studies? But aren’t you…”
“Slytherin?” Paul offered. “Yeah, I get that a lot. And pure-blood, mostly. But my parents aren’t like that. My dad was a Hufflepuff, but my mum was Slytherin like me. And I love my house, honestly, but I always get lumped in with people like -”
“People like Malfoy,” said Harry, a rush of shame washing over him for checking where his wand was when he saw Paul’s green-and-silver tie.
“Yeah. So I’ve never fit in there too well, and most people in the other houses don’t talk to me ‘coz of where I’m from. My first two years were a bit rough. Then I met Danny. It was at the start of last year, my third. I was being bullied by a couple of Gryffindors. And second years at that. Humiliating. But then Danny stepped in to defend me. ‘Leave ‘im alone,’ he said. ‘He’s no Death Eater, he’s just a student like the rest of us.’ They balked at first, until Danny said they’d have to deal with him. They scampered right quick then.
“And I thought that’d be it, I’d never see him again. People had come to my defense before, but they never meant anything by it. And besides, I know Gryffindors love to start fights. I just figured… But he started seeking me out. Well, then I thought it was a prank. Only it wasn’t. This - This kind, funny, brave boy wanted to be my friend. Merlin knows why. I certainly haven’t got a clue.”
“And when did you realize you were in love with him?” Harry prodded.
Paul looked away, turning pink. Harry thought he might bolt then, but instead the younger boy took a shaky breath and continued.
“It was at that party, actually. Danny’s the one who made me go. I’d never been to anything like it, it’s why I wore my school clothes. I, heh…” He rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. “Like I said, I’d never been to something like that before, and I knew the Yule Ball was all fancy. Stupid, really.”
“Not stupid,” Harry assured him with a pat on the shoulder. “Trust me, I’m the biggest idiot I know when it comes to magic, raised by daft Muggles and all. You can’t help what you don’t know.”
“S’pose,” said Paul. “Anyway, I’d been… I guess the word you’d use is aware, that the way I felt about Danny was abnormal, for some time. I always just passed it off as admiration. Here was this great, popular guy taking an interest in me. And he looked so handsome that night. Like, really. And then at midnight… He grabbed my tie, and pulled me in, and…”
The pink deepened to a nice red as Paul trailed off, lost in his own memories. Another boy attempting to enter the bathroom took them both by surprise. Harry reacted quickly, withdrawing his wand to shut and lock the door before the intruder could enter. Paul swallowed.
“Um… What was I saying?”
“I think you were trying to tell me that Danny kissed you,” Harry reminded him. “Sounds like you were a bit surprised.”
“A bit?” Paul echoed. “I didn’t speak to him for two weeks after that! Childish of me.”
“Well, I suppose if you were scared, or confused,” Harry said, thinking back to when he himself was both scared and confused about his feelings last winter.
“I guess,” Paul conceded. “Feels pretty childish now, looking back.”
“It always does.”
“Turns out Danny’s always known he was gay,” Paul continued. “He hasn’t told anyone yet. Except me, of course. And his parents. Me, I haven’t even told my own yet. No one at school knows, though. Erm, apart from you now, that is.”
“You don’t have to tell him that, if you don’t want.”
“Are you kidding?” Paul scoffed. “He’s been begging me for months to come out. He’ll be thrilled when he hears I actually talked to one of you. You and your boyfriend, you’re like his heroes. Both of ours.”
“I - I don’t know what to say,” Harry stammered. “I’m honored that you’d say that, but we’re not heroes, really. Lucky, maybe, to have survived Voldemort, but it wasn’t all that heroic - “
“Oh, not because of You-Know-Who,” said Paul. “It’s great and everything, but I meant the two of you being out. Even after all that dragonshit in the Daily Prophet, you two have stuck it out. You’ve never worried what people thought or said about you both. What’s that Muggle saying? ‘You’re here, you’re gay, get away’ - no, that isn’t right…”
“I’m flattered, Paul, but -” Harry squirmed. “I don’t think we’re all you’ve built us up to be.”
“Maybe not,” Paul said. “I’m sure you two aren’t perfect. Danny and I fight, and it took a while for him to convince me that’s normal. But you and Cedric, you’re still out, holding hands in the halls, kissing each other good night, no matter who’s looking. I wish I could be that brave. I guess what I wanted to say was that you’ve made it easier to believe that someday I might be.”
“Thank you, Paul,” Harry said, finding when he spoke that there was a small lump in his throat. “I can honestly say that, of all the nice things everyone’s said to me today, yours might mean the most to me.”
“Thanks, Harry.”
O O O O O O O
Later that night, Harry sat by the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room and reflected on recent events. While Ron was at a grueling (and in his own words pointless) Quidditch practice, Hermione was sitting opposite Harry, laboring away on homework. He had his own assignments to be done but he was willing to bet he could get away with some slacking this week. At least a day or two’s worth.
Well, maybe not in Potions.
“Any more fan mail?” Hermione wondered as she worked.
“None since lunch,” Harry told her. “Should I be worried that my popularity’s waning already?”
“Could be it’s just a backlog with the post,” she posited. “I’m still not entire sure how that all works. You’ll get plenty in the morning, I’m sure. Told you it was a good idea, that article.”
“Yes, you were right,” Harry yielded.
“Now you just need to stop being so stupid about Cedric…”
Biting back something harsher, Harry responded, “Excuse me?”
“This fight you’ve been having,” Hermione elaborated, finally looking up from her work. “It’s about Quidditch, isn’t it? The game on Saturday? If you ask me -”
“I didn’t.”
“ - you’re both being rather silly about this. I know, I know, you love Quidditch and all that but, really, it is just a game.”
Perhaps it was her saying his relationship problems boiled down to “being silly.” Or maybe it was the continued blatant disrespect for Quidditch. Either way, Harry found his tact had run out.
“No offense, Hermione,” he huffed, “but - why should I even take your advice?”
“What?” she blinked. “What do you mean?”
“I mean look at the shitty way you’ve been treating Ron all year!” Harry snapped. “I thought things might actually be getting better over Christmas, but since then they’ve only gotten worse!”
It felt good to get those feelings off his chest. At least it did until he noticed the tears streaming down Hermione’s face.
“Oh - oh God, Hermione - I’m so sorry,” Harry said, reaching across to pat her shoulder awkwardly.
“Oh, don’t be, you’re right,” she said in a sob. “You’re absolutely right. I’ve been horrible to him. I don’t know what I’m doing, Harry. I care about Ron, very much. Even when he annoys me, it’s in such a way that… But he’s still so immature sometimes! Like how mental he is over this whole Quidditch thing. Not that - I don’t mean to diminish the importance of the game to all of you, I swear, but look at how he reacts to losing a game! You’d think he’d killed someone. It’s a bit much.
“And what happens if we do go out and it’s awful because we weren’t ready or - or we’re not compatible or something like that, and then we break up and everything’s ruined? What, do we go back to the way things were two years ago, when he and I couldn’t be in the same room together? Or like him and you and the Goblet of Fire? I don’t know that our friendships can survive something like that, Harry, not again.”
“These are all really good points, Hermione,” said Harry. “Erm, why don’t you talk about them with Ron?”
“Oh, sure,” she chortled. “I’ll go do that as soon as you talk to Cedric about your deepest insecurities about your relationship.”
“Okay, ‘nother good point,” Harry muttered. “Still, it’s no excuse for everything.”
“I know it’s not,” Hermione agreed with a sniffle. “To be honest, it’s not just him being too immature that I’m worried about. All this romantic stuff, it’s so stressful. I didn’t have these problems with Viktor. Probably because I didn’t truly fancy him. At least not entirely. I-I don’t know if I’m quite ready for it, either. I mean, all of this… I often wonder how you manage it.”
“Oh, gee, thanks.”
“I didn’t mean it like -”
“No, I know,” said Harry. “A lot of it’s Cedric, I suppose. He’s the level-headed one, betweein the two of us. The mature one. Blimey, I make it sound like he’s my love-tutor or something. Sort of accurate, though.”
Saying it out loud only made Harry feel guiltier about the prolonged silence between the two of them. Cedric was always so patient and understanding, from the very beginning. Now Harry repaid that kindness by shutting him out after a bad Quidditch loss.
“Yeah, but I don’t mean just that,” Hermione said, dabbing her eyes with a tissue she conjured. “The worrying-about-the-future stuff. It must be hard on you, what with Cedric graduating at the end of the year, and wondering how that’ll change things between you. I guess that’s why I say it’s stupid to bicker over something like that. Because I don’t want to see you waste the time you’re both still here, you know?”
No, Harry didn’t know. Because he never thought about it. Sure, he knew Cedric would be graduating at the end of the year, but that always seemed so far away, with what would come after even further. Now that he did reflect on it, the school year would end in a little over four months. More time had passed since it began than was left. How much harder was it going to be to simply see one another face to face once September rolled back around?
He was being stupid. Harry could see that now. The time they still had together was precious, and not to be spent squabbling over things like Quidditch. He should’ve learned that lesson last June, when he nearly lost Cedric for good. No matter how much he loved the game, he loved Cedric more.
O O O O O O O
By the time Harry came to his revelation, it was already after curfew. This meant he had to wait for morning to speak with Cedric. He planned to, right as soon as he was done eating breakfast, and he would have if Cedric hadn’t come and found him with a piece of toast shoved halfway into his mouth.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hey!” said Harry, inadvertently spraying a bit of breadcrumb in the process.
“Can we talk?” Cedric asked.
“Of course we can,.” He dropped the remaining toast and rose from the table. As he followed Cedric out to the entrance hall, he told him, “I was going to come find you.”
“No need now,” Cedric replied with an uneasy smile.
“Listen, these last few days,” Harry said, “with us not talking and all, because - well, because -”
“Yes, I know,” Cedric interjected. “Because.”
“Well, it was stupid of me,” admitted Harry. “Avoiding you like that, it was…”
“I wasn’t much better,” Cedric shrugged. “Let’s put the whole thing behind us then, shall we?”
“I’d like that.”
There was a brief hesitation, and then a kiss. As always, Cedric’s lips restored most of Harry’s confidence. It didn’t wash the bad weekend away entirely, but it did remove the lingering discomfort between them.
“So, that article, eh?” Harry said. “Who would’ve thought we’d make lightning bolt scars a trend?”
“On that subject,” Cedric said, brandishing an envelope he pulled from his pocket, “I have some news. I got a letter today. From my father.”
“Ohh, no,” Harry groaned. “He’s gone off on you about it, hasn’t he?”
“The opposite, actually,” Cedric grinned. “He said doing the interview took a lot of courage. Sticking with the truth, no matter what anyone thinks or says about me, just proves that I’m my own man now, and he couldn’t be prouder. Some co-worker mouthed off about it to him, calling me a liar and a queer, and Dad punched him!”
“Really?” Harry laughed.
“Yeah! Probably not the best idea, but who cares? Plus, “Cedric brandished something shiny he pulled from his pocket, “he sent me this, with his apologies for taking it.”
It was Cedric’s old watch, the one his father took back last June when he saw Harry and Cedric asleep together in the hospital wing.
“That’s brilliant!” Harry exclaimed.
“I’ll be keeping the pocket watch you gave me, naturally.”
“Oh you’d better be,” Harry said, giving him a playful swat, which he then followed up with a great big hug. “I’m so happy for you, Cedric.”
“Me too,” said Cedric. “This whole thing, I’m so glad we did it. I think it’s really made a difference, speaking up and all.”
“Maybe even more than we know,” Harry replied.
“How d’you mean that?” Cedric asked, furrowing his brow in bemusement.
Taking Cedric’s hand, Harry answered, “Walk me to class.”
And as they walked, Harry told Cedric all about his new friend and admirer, the Slytherin boy named Paul.
END NOTES: I wanted to save this until the 11th, for 11/11/11, but sadly I’ll be without internet access. Because oh yeah, that’s right - I’M GETTING MARRIED IN TWO DAYS! Yep! Thursday the 10th at 5PM, EST, at the Wedding Pavilion in Disney World! :D
Very exciting, very nerve-wrecking. Seriously, there’s still so much to do and we leave in, um, an hour. I’m taking time out of the frenzy to make sure I post this! (The things I do for you people… :P just kidding!)
In other news, I have a tumblr! You can find it HERE if anyone wants to follow me! ALSO: part of what’s slowed down my updates is I’m writing a book! I’ll be self-publishing on the Amazon Kindle store if ya’ll are interested. I’ll updated you guys when there’s news.
Wish me luck, everyone! Love you all! -kevo
Author: kevo
Pairing: Harry + Cedric.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not claim ownership to these characters or the series they’re from.
Summary: In his fifth year, Harry faces ostracism with boyfriend Cedric for coming out and for declaring Voldemort has returned. (Order of the Phoenix canon re-write.)
Author’s Note: This is my favorite chapter of this story that I’ve written in quite some time. It’s the one I’ve been most keen to write. Hope you like it!
( A Lack of Color - Chapter One)
( A Lack of Color - Chapter Thirty)
( Sound of the Revolution - Chapter One)
- - - - - - - - -
( Sound of the Revolution - Chapter Nine)
The Love So Green Collection
Playlist #2:
sound of the revolution
CHAPTER TEN
“Heads Will Roll”
“We,” Cedric declared, plopping down at the study table next to Harry, “are going out.”
“Er, yes, Cedric, we are,” said Harry. “Over a year now, yeah?”
“No, no, I don't mean - what I meant was, we're going on a proper date. Next weekend.”
“Really?” Harry smiled. “I like the sound of that.”
“I figured, you know, since we missed Valentine's Day last year, we ought to make up for it with this one, you know?”
“Definitely,” Harry said.
Thankfully, his Occlumency lessons were already making it slightly easier to block their Scar Sense. Otherwise Cedric might’ve felt Harry’s stomach drop as he realized he’d completely forgotten Valentine’s Day was that weekend. Sometimes he really sucked at this boyfriend stuff.
Leaning a bit closer, Cedric went on to say, “And, listen, I don’t want you to get me anything, okay? Maybe you have already, I don’t know…”
“Um, I had something in mind but, uh, didn’t make any purchases yet,” Harry fibbed.
“Good, that’s good,” Cedric said. “I thought instead it might be nice to sit down together somewhere, like we used to during the summer in Little Whinging. Have you been to Madame Puddifoot’s before?”
“Can’t say I have,” Harry replied, his brow furrowing. He never even heard of the place. Was it possible there were still areas in the tiny village that were as yet unknown to him?
“I figured as much,” said Cedric. “It’s more for couples.”
“And -” Harry hesitated. “And you’re sure you want us to go there then?”
Since their first trip to Hogsmeade as a couple, back in October, Cedric had been squeamish about a repeat performance. This may have had more to do with Mrs. Diggory’s ambush than the funny looks they got from the village’s inhabitants, but Harry wasn’t willing to bet on it.
“Absolutely,” Cedric insisted. “Why, don’t you?”
“No, I do!” Harry assured him. “It - It sounds fun. Madame Puddifoot’s, was it?”
“Yeah,” answered Cedric. “I haven’t been either, but I hear it’s quaint. Kellan and Taylor always take their dates there, anyway. So what do you say?”
“I say you’ve got yourself a date, Mr. Diggory.”
O O O O O O O
The prospect of a real and proper date was exhilarating, if a little daunting. What they’d done in Little Whinging could probably be called dates, except not really because they couldn’t be the least bit affectionate. Not like they can in Hogsmeade, where there’s little harm since everyone already knows about them. He made sure to wear the nicest shirt he had, and fussed with his hair for ten minutes to make it behave. Harry wanted their day to be perfect.
So when Hermione dropped down beside him Saturday morning and frantically said, “Harry, I need you to drop whatever you’re doing today and meet me around noon in the Three Broomsticks,” he wasn’t pleased.
“What?” Harry squawked, dribbling a bit of egg down his chin. “I - no, no-no, I can’t. What are you - Hermione, it’s Valentine’s Day.”
“I’m aware what day it is, Harry,” Hermione replied hotly.
“Yeah, well, Cedric and I have plans. Boyfriendly plans. Plans that don’t involve meeting you for lunch, sorry.”
“Harry, please,” begged Hermione. She seemed genuinely distressed. “It’s-it’s important. I don’t have time to argue or explain, I need to respond to this letter immediately.” She waved the parchment wildly to emphasize her point. “Just say you’ll do this for me, please?”
“I, uh… What about Cedric?”
“Bring him,” she said. “I was going to ask you to anyway.”
“Ehh, all right,” Harry sighed in defeat. “I’ll talk to him about it.”
“Great,” Hermione said, springing to her feet. “Thank you. You won’t regret this.”
The ominous feeling Harry was developing based on her frantic and secretive behavior said otherwise, but he shrugged it off. Hermione had always been there for him. He figured he owed her the odd unquestioned favor here and there.
“You coming as well?” Harry asked Ron, who had been silent throughout breakfast.
“Can’t,” he responded. “Practice. Just as well. I’d rather not be in Hogsmeade today, y’know? Happy couples and all.”
“Right,” Harry frowned. “Gotcha.” Noticing Cedric getting up from the Hufflepuff table, he too rose from his seat, saying, “Speaking of happy couples. I’ll see you later, okay? Good luck with practice.”
“Cheers,” said Ron. “Have fun with the Hottie.”
“Always do.”
They met at the entrance to the Great Hall, Cedric greeting Harry with a smile and a, “Hey there.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Harry said back.
“You too,” said Cedric. “Ready to go?”
“Yeah, slight problem, though…”
As they waited on line for Filch to sign them out for the day, Harry explained Hermione’s sudden request.
“That’s really strange,” Cedric mused, fiddling with his Hufflepuff scarf. “Hermione’s generally more forthcoming than that, isn’t she?”
“Not always,” Harry replied. He could recall a number of times she’d behaved so erratically. “Mostly when she gets like this, it means something serious is going on.”
“Suppose we don’t have a choice then, do we?”
“I’m sorry,” Harry sulked. “I should’ve told her no. It’s Valentine’s and all.”
“It’s just a day, Harry,” Cedric said, putting a comforting arm across Harry’s shoulders. “This will be a brief, albeit unfortunate, detour. We still have the morning, and maybe whatever she needs won’t even take that long and we can have most of the afternoon together as well. So cheer up, all right?”
“Well, if you insist on being all optimistic about it,” Harry joked.
They walked to Hogsmeade that way, joking and laughing, Cedric’s arm still slung around Harry. If they got sideways glances from passersby, Cedric seemed not to notice. Harry was grateful for Cedric’s change in attitude, yet he couldn’t help pondering what brought it about. He wasn’t nearly this comfortable in the fall.
Then he recalled Hermione’s behavior over the break, after Mr. Weasley’s near-death experience. How she was much sweeter and affectionate towards Ron those few weeks at Grimmauld place. Perhaps with everything that happened lately, the snake dream and the Death Eater escape and Umbridge’s constantly looming shadow touching everything, Cedric was doing the same thing now.
Whatever the cause, Harry was more than happy to reap the benefits of this unexpected transformation.
Turning down a narrow side street Harry never gave much thought to before, the boys arrived at Madame Puddifoot’s Tea Shop.
“Huh,” Cedric said as they entered.
“It’s a bit…” Harry searched for a word to describe the shop.
“Girly?” Cedric supplied quietly.
“Yeah, sort of,” Harry muttered back. “The, uh, the little flying babies and pink confetti aren’t helping much, either.”
“Do you want to leave?”
“No, it’s fine,” said Harry. “Can’t hurt to try something new, right?”
There were a limited number of free tables remaining, so they grabbed one fast. Cedric’s dorm mate Kellan was already seated with a Hufflepuff girl whose name Harry couldn’t remember. He nodded hello briefly, keeping his focus on his companion.
“Didn’t know Kel and Adrianna were getting together,” Cedric observed. “She used to tease him something fierce back in the day, saying he thought he was Merlin’s gift to witches.”
“People change, I guess,” Harry replied.
“Too right, that.”
“Hello there, m’dears,” a stout woman Harry guessed to be Madame Puddifoot greeted them. “Are you two waiting for your dates to arrive or would you like to order now?”
It was such a startlingly unanticipated moment that neither boy reacted at first. Couldn’t she recognize who she was speaking to? Didn’t she read the papers? It wasn’t entirely inconceivable that the answer to both these questions was no, but the chances were so slim that Harry didn’t even know what to say.
“Uh, actually, ma’am,” Cedric answered slowly, reaching across the table to take the hand Harry had rested there, “we’re not waiting for anyone.”
“Oh!” The witch turned pinker than the cherubs’ confetti. “Oh, I see. I’m - goodness gracious, I’m so sorry. I didn’t - I mean to say, I’ve never…” She raised the order pad in her shaking hand. “What will it be then?”
“I’ll have a coffee, please,” said Cedric. “And you, Harry?”
“I’ll, uh, have the same, I s’pose.”
“Right,” Madame Puddifoot said. “T-two coffees, coming right up.”
She scurried away as swiftly as she could between the tightly-packed tables.
“That was weird,” Cedric noted with a nervous chuckle.
“Right?” Harry agreed. “I didn’t think there was anyone left in our world who didn’t know about us.” His hand felt oddly uncomfortable in Cedric’s for once. Harry shifted in his seat. “Do you think… Should we maybe ease up a bit?”
“Weren’t you the one who made a fuss over holding hands a few months ago?” Cedric asked.
“We - I don’t - You’re right, sorry,” Harry stammered. “Just wasn’t expecting that.”
“Hey, c’mere.”
Cedric leaned across the table to give a light peck.
“Ugh,” a voice cried out.
A Ravenclaw girl at a nearby table was glaring at them with disgust. Her boyfriend didn’t seem happy about what he was seeing either.
“D’you mind?” she sneered.
“I do actually,” Cedric responded.
“She’s right,” said a Slytherin boy at another table. “It’s bad enough you two have to parade that shit around at school. Can’t you leave anywhere safe for us normal people?”
His date, looking mortified, mumbled, “Bernie, leave it alone…”
“Oy, watch it, mate,” said Kellan, who had turned around in his chair when the commotion began.
“Oh, and what’re you gonna do, throw me out?” the Slytherin mocked.
“No, but I will.”
Madame Puddifoot had reappeared, gripping a tray of coffees so tightly that her knuckles were white.
“You can get out, right now,” she said. “Same goes for you two over there, and anyone else who has a problem with these boys. This is my shop, and I won’t tolerate that sort of thing in here. Especially not today.”
The Slytherin and his date, as well as the Ravenclaw and hers and a third couple from the corner, slunk silently out the door. After a beat, everyone else went back to their own business. It was still Valentine’s Day, after all. They had better things to think about. Madame Puddifoot came to the boys’ table to deliver their coffees.
“Thank you for that,” Cedric said. “It was very kind of you to say.”
“I had a friend in school who was a lesbian,” Madame Puddifoot told them. “She had a tough time of it. I’m sad to say I was one of the ones who didn’t take the news too well. I was a kid, you know? But I suppose that’s no excuse. She took her own life soon after graduation. I wish I’d been kinder to her when I had the chance.” She gave them a tight, watery smile. “You two will always be welcome here.”
“Thanks,” Cedric replied.
“Yeah, thanks,” echoed Harry.
They enjoyed their coffees together without further incident.
Noon rapidly approached and, after paying their bill and leaving a very generous tip, the boys made their way to the Three Broomsticks as promised. It had begun raining while they were in Puddifoot’s so they moved briskly, huddled together under Cedric’s jacket, thrown over their heads to protect them from the shower.
Hermione was waiting when they arrived, already at a table. Seated with her were Luna Lovegood and - No. It couldn’t be.
“Harry, is that…?”
“I think it is.”
Looking slightly worse for wear, and like she would much rather be anywhere else, was Rita Skeeter, former Daily Prophet journalist and general pain in Harry’s butt.
“Ah, boys, you’re just in time,” Hermione beamed, as if there was nothing odd about her choice of companions. Like they were meeting for their regular game of bridge. “I just finished explaining to Rita why I’ve called you all here.”
“On a fool’s errand,” Rita muttered. “You know, I haven’t agreed to do it yet, girlie.”
“You will,” Hermione replied flatly. “Beyond the fact that I have information that would get you thrown in Azkaban, you know the value of what I’m offering. This story -”
“This story is nothing!” Rita snapped. “No one wants to buy what you’re selling, missy. They want gossip, intrigue. If it weren’t for you, I could be making a killing right now. Sirius Black’s break out of his Death Eater comrades, Dumbledore’s slipping grasp on Hogwarts, not to mention Harry Potter’s torrid homosexual affair with fellow Hogwarts student and former competing Triwizard champion Cedric Diggory.”
“Wow, so you actually speak like a trashy newspaper in regular conversation then,” Cedric marveled.
“It’s a gift,” she sneered.
“You can make a killing off of this and you know it,” Hermione said. “Being the person to break this story, to tell the world the truth, you’d be revered. So much that it pains me to give it to you, but I’m desperate. And so are you, which is the final reason I know you’ll do it.”
“Um, hello?” said Harry, raising a hand. “I’m still not sure what’s going on here. What story?”
“Your story,” Hermione told him, eyes ablaze with excitement. “Yours and Cedric’s. The truth about what happened last June, what’s happening even now. Rita will interview you, and Luna’s father will print it in his magazine.”
This proposition was somehow stranger than the thought of Hermione, Rita, and Luna playing bridge. Ludicrous, that’s what it was.
“Merlin’s bloody goddamn - Hermione, can I talk to you over here for a second?”
Without waiting for an answer, Harry stood and moved to the nearest private corner of the pub. Hermione and Cedric both followed him.
In the lowest voice he could manage, Harry hissed, “Have you completely lost your mind?”
“Why is this so crazy?” Hermione asked, folding her arms across her chest.
“Well, for starters, you couldn’t tell me this was your plan?”
“Honestly, no,” said Hermione. “It may seem uncouth, but I thought it would be best to spring it on you last minute. Had I said something before now, you might have said no.”
“I still might say no,” Harry huffed. “This goes against everything Moody told us!”
“How does it do that?” Hermione challenged. “You wouldn’t be saying anything Dumbledore hasn’t since last June. Only now it would finally be printed in a reputed periodical.”
“Reputed?” Harry echoed.
“It means -”
“I know what it means, Hermione. But The Quibbler?”
“Oh. Well, I know it isn’t the most respected of titles…”
“That’s putting it lightly,” Harry scoffed.
“Oh, what do you know from newspapers?” Hermione replied. “You wouldn’t have read past the front page of the Prophet this summer if your boyfriend hadn’t told you to!”
“That is so - You don’t know that!” At the mention of him, Harry looked at Cedric. “You’ve been awfully quiet. What do you make of all this?”
Cedric shrugged.
“I…I don’t know.”
Even with his Occlumency lessons, Harry could feel Cedric’s trepidation, and imagined he was projecting a fair amount of it himself. The two of them hadn’t had a lot of luck with the press, especially of late. And putting their fates in the hands of Rita Skeeter was like trusting a cat with a particularly plump mouse.
“It’s not - I mean, it couldn’t hurt,” Cedric said at last.
“It probably could hurt, actually,” Harry argued.
“I guess. Still. I think - I think we should do it.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” said Cedric. “Maybe it’s crazy, maybe it’s stupid, but I don’t care. I want our story out there. The truth.”
There were a number of emotions coming off of Cedric now; determination, [something], and still a decent amount of fear. This was important to him.
“Yeah,” Harry said. “Yeah, okay. Let’s do it then.”
He took Cedric’s hand and led him back to the table, where their interviewer was ordering another firewhisky.
O O O O O O O
Their cross-examination by Rita Skeeter was neither pleasant nor short. She spent almost two hours squeezing every detail Harry and Cedric were willing to divulge. A few times she pressed too hard about the wrong subjects, and Harry nearly walked out. Whenever this happened, Cedric’s hand found its way to Harry’s knee, where it would sit, reassuringly, until Harry was calm again.
By the time it was all over, the afternoon had been spent.
As if that wasn’t stressful enough, the thing Harry had been dreading since the school year began was finally here:
The Gryffindor/Hufflepuff Quidditch match.
He and Cedric teased one another about it months ago, the idea of them going broom-to-broom on the pitch. It all seemed so innocent until Angelina pulled Harry aside after a practice back in October.
“You and Diggory have something going on, yeah?” she had asked.
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” Harry had answered her. “But yes, we do.”
“It is my business,” she’d snapped, “because you’re my Seeker, and he’s the enemy. I want your word that you won’t go all moony when we play Hufflepuff in a few months.”
“I’ve never gone ‘moony’ before,” Harry grumped.
“What do you call that Quidditch match in your third year?” Angelina said. “When Wood told you off for not playing your best against Chang from Ravenclaw?”
“That - That was nothing,” Harry replied, caught off-guard by the comparison. “I was just a kid back then.”
“Come off it, that wasn’t even two years ago,” Angelina had pointed out, and her tone softened slightly there, the tiniest sliver of understanding edging in. “Listen, just promise me it won’t affect your game, all right?”
“Of course it won’t,” Harry promised.
Since then, Harry made every effort not to think about the impending match. Angelina was right to take him aside, unpleasant as it was. He could argue that he never did any less than his best when competing against Cedric during the Tournament, but how much of that was competing against one another? Only the maze, really, and then they’d ultimately ended up working together. That wasn’t an option in Quidditch.
Being banned from the game was almost a blessing. It physically pained Harry to think of his Firebolt locked up in Umbridge’s office, but no more than it did to imagine snatching the Snitch out from under his own boyfriend. Or worse, to imagine Cedric taking it from him. Part of Harry even wondered if Cedric would have thrown the game on purpose. That was the worst scenario of all. Defeating Cedric or losing to him were one thing. Having victory handed to him would be humiliating.
The thing Harry didn’t anticipate was how difficult it would be to watch the team, his team, lose without him, knowing they would’ve stood a much better chance if he was up there with them. Not that Ginny didn’t put up a good fight for a first-timer, and perhaps against a less seasoned Seeker she might’ve stood a chance. But Cedric wasn’t Captain of the Hufflepuff team for nothing. That fact was of little comfort considering Gryffindor lost by over three-hundred points.
The crushing loss left Harry angry and bitter, with nowhere to direct those feelings. He couldn’t retaliate on Umbridge, the truly blameworthy party, much as he wanted to. Nor did he begrudge Ginny taking his place, much as he wished he could.
Normally he’d take his frustration out on the opposing team, ranting and insulting them back in the common room with the rest of Gryffindor. Only now that enemy was his boyfriend. Thinking of him that way, as an enemy, even in jest, it felt wrong. It was wrong. Was this what all inter-house couples went through after a bad Quidditch match?
Considering what happened after his last Quidditch game, Harry was apprehensive about seeing Cedric. He didn’t want another argument, although it seemed inevitable. After all, if they fought over something as trivial as Draco Malfoy… Although it went against all of his instincts, Harry stayed away from Cedric that evening. Not that it proved difficult. The older boy was no doubt celebrating his team’s victory anyway. This was Hufflepuff’s second consecutive win against Gryffindor. That made it doubly special to them.
His evasion tactics continued on into the next day. Their usual routine was to meet in the library do the weekend’s homework together on Sundays. He certainly missed that, as he’d forgotten how laborious completing his assignments alone was. But it did keep his mind busy. Dinner arrived in no time. He expected to cross paths with Cedric in the Great Hall, and readied himself for it, yet it didn’t happen. At first he thought Cedric might not have made it to dinner.
Then Harry caught sight of him at the Hufflepuff table, eating, not looking at the Gryffindor table. It was like November all over again! And without a single heated word being exchanged. How was that even possible?
Harry stared at the neighboring table until finally Cedric glanced up. Their eyes locked. He smiled, strained but honest, and gave a little wave. Harry smiled and nodded back. It was a marked change from the last time they did this. Cedric stood up from the table a minute later and walked out of the Great Hall. Harry debated catching up with him, to say… To say what? The match, the defeat, it was all too fresh still.
Instead, Harry finished his meal, quietly contemplating how much longer they would dodge each other, and if there was even a way to solve a problem they couldn’t speak about.
O O O O O O O
In light of his personal life being so in flux, Harry was utterly unprepared for how much his public life changed Monday morning with the release of the March edition of The Quibbler. If he’d known there’d be such an overwhelming response to his interview, he might’ve kept better tabs on when it was coming out.
The outpouring of support was more than Harry ever expected, more than he could’ve even hoped for. By Tuesday, a new trend had taken over Hogwarts for those who believed Harry and Cedric’s story. Popping up all over, on schoolbags and clothing and even on people’s skin, were lightning bolts. Tiny zigzags that matched, to the best of the artist’s ability, the twin curse scars that Harry and Cedric bore. Less permanent, perhaps, but nearly as meaningful. So meaningful that Umbridge, already furious over the article, was beside herself. It didn’t take long for an Educational Decree to ban the symbol. That didn’t stop it from being surreptitiously graffiti’ed onto walls and tapestries.
It was great and everything, fantastic even. The problem was that the one person Harry wanted to share this long-awaited moment in the spotlight with was the one person he wasn’t talking to at the moment. Despite everything that was happening, things between them weren’t suddenly all better. Maybe it should’ve but it didn’t feel like they were.
With how swamped Harry was, students and teachers clamoring to offer their encouragement, he could hardly find a moment for himself, let alone for reconciling with his boyfriend. He went out of his way to a seldom-used boys’ lavatory on his way to dinner for some privacy. At long last, after two days, he had a moment of peace.
Until a quiet voice behind him said, “Um, excuse me?”
Harry took in a breath to maintain his calm.
“Listen,” he said, “I’ll be happy to hear to whatever you have to say in a moment, but right now isn’t really the best time.”
“Oh, of course, I-I didn’t mean t-to bother you,” the other boy replied in a rush. “I’ll, uh. I’ll just. Wait. Til you’re d-done.”
Nodding, Harry attempted to go back about his business. Except he could feel this stranger’s eyes on him. Watching him. Waiting. It was like someone stuck a cork in Harry’s... Anyway, there was no going now. Luckily it wasn’t an emergency. He zipped up and went to the sink.
“Now, how can I help you, er...?”
He looked at the boy in the mirror. He was handsome if small, dark-haired and olive-skinned. What surprised Harry was the flash of green and silver he caught on the boy’s chest. Slytherin? Thus far, members of every house had shown their encouragement in some way or another. Every house, that is, except Slytherin. Harry hadn’t expected any of them to come forward. It was the nature of his relationship with their house.
Maybe this isn’t encouragement after all, Harry thought, preparing himself for the worst. He became very mindful of where his wand was, stowed in the folds of his robes.
“Paul,” the boy said. “My name is Paul.”
“What can I do for you, Paul?” Harry asked. He folded his arms across his chest in an attempt to appear intimidating. Not hard, considering the smaller boy looked to be about thirteen.
“I-I-I j-just, I-I w-wanted to, to say...”
The stammer, teamed with the tie and the boy’s anxious demeanor, triggered a memory.
“Hang on, I know you!” Harry said. “You were at the New Year’s Eve Party last year, the one the Weasley twins hosted.”
“Oh, y-you remember that?” Paul grimaced.
“Yeah, I do,” said Harry. “They were completely out of order.”
“I-I-I’m used to it,” Paul shrugged. “Anyway, your boyfriend was real nice about it. I wanted to say something then, t-to thank him, but I was too nervous.”
“You had more to be nervous about with Fred and George,” Harry advised. “Cedric’s about the nicest bloke you’ll ever meet.”
“No, I know. That’s, er, that’s why he made me so nervous.” Paul’s voice lowered almost to a whisper as his eyes glued themselves to the sink at Harry’s right. “He… He’s really cute.”
Ah. So that was why this young Slytherin sought Harry out.
“Yes, he is,” Harry grinned. “Then you’re -?”
“Like you two?” Paul supplied. Harry nodded, remembering when he himself was too scared to say the word out loud. “Yeah, I am. I-I haven’t told anyone that before. Only one other person knows.”
“And who’s that then?”
“His name is Danny,” said Paul. “He’s a Gryffindor, same as you, only a year below yours, like I am.”
“You’re fourteen?” Harry asked. He winced as he realized the astonishment in his tone may have been insulting.
“Almost fifteen, actually,” Paul blushed. “In June, that is. I know, I’m small for my age. It’s a miracle Danny ever even noticed me.”
Harry racked his brains trying to place the boy that Paul was referring to. He didn’t pay much attention to the students in years below him, apart from Ginny. And occasionally Colin Creevey, although Harry didn’t so much pay him attention as be assaulted by him.
“I don’t think I know him,” Harry said. He led them over to the windowsill to sit. “Why don’t you tell me about him, eh?”
“He’s brilliant,” said Paul. “Truly. Not at school, mind you. If he applied himself, sure, but… He never listens. I think he’s still finding himself, y’know? I tell him, O.W.L.s are coming up next year, you’re going to have to figure out what it is you want to do soon.”
“You sound like my friend Hermione,” Harry noted.
“Hermione Granger?” Paul asked. “She’s not a bad person to emulate. Professor Burbage has a test done by her in Muggle Studies, she got over three-hundred percent.”
“Burbage is still showing off that test?” Harry laughed. “Blimey. I’ll be she doesn’t mention Hermione is Muggle-born, either.”
“No, not as such.”
“Hang on, you take Muggle Studies? But aren’t you…”
“Slytherin?” Paul offered. “Yeah, I get that a lot. And pure-blood, mostly. But my parents aren’t like that. My dad was a Hufflepuff, but my mum was Slytherin like me. And I love my house, honestly, but I always get lumped in with people like -”
“People like Malfoy,” said Harry, a rush of shame washing over him for checking where his wand was when he saw Paul’s green-and-silver tie.
“Yeah. So I’ve never fit in there too well, and most people in the other houses don’t talk to me ‘coz of where I’m from. My first two years were a bit rough. Then I met Danny. It was at the start of last year, my third. I was being bullied by a couple of Gryffindors. And second years at that. Humiliating. But then Danny stepped in to defend me. ‘Leave ‘im alone,’ he said. ‘He’s no Death Eater, he’s just a student like the rest of us.’ They balked at first, until Danny said they’d have to deal with him. They scampered right quick then.
“And I thought that’d be it, I’d never see him again. People had come to my defense before, but they never meant anything by it. And besides, I know Gryffindors love to start fights. I just figured… But he started seeking me out. Well, then I thought it was a prank. Only it wasn’t. This - This kind, funny, brave boy wanted to be my friend. Merlin knows why. I certainly haven’t got a clue.”
“And when did you realize you were in love with him?” Harry prodded.
Paul looked away, turning pink. Harry thought he might bolt then, but instead the younger boy took a shaky breath and continued.
“It was at that party, actually. Danny’s the one who made me go. I’d never been to anything like it, it’s why I wore my school clothes. I, heh…” He rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. “Like I said, I’d never been to something like that before, and I knew the Yule Ball was all fancy. Stupid, really.”
“Not stupid,” Harry assured him with a pat on the shoulder. “Trust me, I’m the biggest idiot I know when it comes to magic, raised by daft Muggles and all. You can’t help what you don’t know.”
“S’pose,” said Paul. “Anyway, I’d been… I guess the word you’d use is aware, that the way I felt about Danny was abnormal, for some time. I always just passed it off as admiration. Here was this great, popular guy taking an interest in me. And he looked so handsome that night. Like, really. And then at midnight… He grabbed my tie, and pulled me in, and…”
The pink deepened to a nice red as Paul trailed off, lost in his own memories. Another boy attempting to enter the bathroom took them both by surprise. Harry reacted quickly, withdrawing his wand to shut and lock the door before the intruder could enter. Paul swallowed.
“Um… What was I saying?”
“I think you were trying to tell me that Danny kissed you,” Harry reminded him. “Sounds like you were a bit surprised.”
“A bit?” Paul echoed. “I didn’t speak to him for two weeks after that! Childish of me.”
“Well, I suppose if you were scared, or confused,” Harry said, thinking back to when he himself was both scared and confused about his feelings last winter.
“I guess,” Paul conceded. “Feels pretty childish now, looking back.”
“It always does.”
“Turns out Danny’s always known he was gay,” Paul continued. “He hasn’t told anyone yet. Except me, of course. And his parents. Me, I haven’t even told my own yet. No one at school knows, though. Erm, apart from you now, that is.”
“You don’t have to tell him that, if you don’t want.”
“Are you kidding?” Paul scoffed. “He’s been begging me for months to come out. He’ll be thrilled when he hears I actually talked to one of you. You and your boyfriend, you’re like his heroes. Both of ours.”
“I - I don’t know what to say,” Harry stammered. “I’m honored that you’d say that, but we’re not heroes, really. Lucky, maybe, to have survived Voldemort, but it wasn’t all that heroic - “
“Oh, not because of You-Know-Who,” said Paul. “It’s great and everything, but I meant the two of you being out. Even after all that dragonshit in the Daily Prophet, you two have stuck it out. You’ve never worried what people thought or said about you both. What’s that Muggle saying? ‘You’re here, you’re gay, get away’ - no, that isn’t right…”
“I’m flattered, Paul, but -” Harry squirmed. “I don’t think we’re all you’ve built us up to be.”
“Maybe not,” Paul said. “I’m sure you two aren’t perfect. Danny and I fight, and it took a while for him to convince me that’s normal. But you and Cedric, you’re still out, holding hands in the halls, kissing each other good night, no matter who’s looking. I wish I could be that brave. I guess what I wanted to say was that you’ve made it easier to believe that someday I might be.”
“Thank you, Paul,” Harry said, finding when he spoke that there was a small lump in his throat. “I can honestly say that, of all the nice things everyone’s said to me today, yours might mean the most to me.”
“Thanks, Harry.”
O O O O O O O
Later that night, Harry sat by the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room and reflected on recent events. While Ron was at a grueling (and in his own words pointless) Quidditch practice, Hermione was sitting opposite Harry, laboring away on homework. He had his own assignments to be done but he was willing to bet he could get away with some slacking this week. At least a day or two’s worth.
Well, maybe not in Potions.
“Any more fan mail?” Hermione wondered as she worked.
“None since lunch,” Harry told her. “Should I be worried that my popularity’s waning already?”
“Could be it’s just a backlog with the post,” she posited. “I’m still not entire sure how that all works. You’ll get plenty in the morning, I’m sure. Told you it was a good idea, that article.”
“Yes, you were right,” Harry yielded.
“Now you just need to stop being so stupid about Cedric…”
Biting back something harsher, Harry responded, “Excuse me?”
“This fight you’ve been having,” Hermione elaborated, finally looking up from her work. “It’s about Quidditch, isn’t it? The game on Saturday? If you ask me -”
“I didn’t.”
“ - you’re both being rather silly about this. I know, I know, you love Quidditch and all that but, really, it is just a game.”
Perhaps it was her saying his relationship problems boiled down to “being silly.” Or maybe it was the continued blatant disrespect for Quidditch. Either way, Harry found his tact had run out.
“No offense, Hermione,” he huffed, “but - why should I even take your advice?”
“What?” she blinked. “What do you mean?”
“I mean look at the shitty way you’ve been treating Ron all year!” Harry snapped. “I thought things might actually be getting better over Christmas, but since then they’ve only gotten worse!”
It felt good to get those feelings off his chest. At least it did until he noticed the tears streaming down Hermione’s face.
“Oh - oh God, Hermione - I’m so sorry,” Harry said, reaching across to pat her shoulder awkwardly.
“Oh, don’t be, you’re right,” she said in a sob. “You’re absolutely right. I’ve been horrible to him. I don’t know what I’m doing, Harry. I care about Ron, very much. Even when he annoys me, it’s in such a way that… But he’s still so immature sometimes! Like how mental he is over this whole Quidditch thing. Not that - I don’t mean to diminish the importance of the game to all of you, I swear, but look at how he reacts to losing a game! You’d think he’d killed someone. It’s a bit much.
“And what happens if we do go out and it’s awful because we weren’t ready or - or we’re not compatible or something like that, and then we break up and everything’s ruined? What, do we go back to the way things were two years ago, when he and I couldn’t be in the same room together? Or like him and you and the Goblet of Fire? I don’t know that our friendships can survive something like that, Harry, not again.”
“These are all really good points, Hermione,” said Harry. “Erm, why don’t you talk about them with Ron?”
“Oh, sure,” she chortled. “I’ll go do that as soon as you talk to Cedric about your deepest insecurities about your relationship.”
“Okay, ‘nother good point,” Harry muttered. “Still, it’s no excuse for everything.”
“I know it’s not,” Hermione agreed with a sniffle. “To be honest, it’s not just him being too immature that I’m worried about. All this romantic stuff, it’s so stressful. I didn’t have these problems with Viktor. Probably because I didn’t truly fancy him. At least not entirely. I-I don’t know if I’m quite ready for it, either. I mean, all of this… I often wonder how you manage it.”
“Oh, gee, thanks.”
“I didn’t mean it like -”
“No, I know,” said Harry. “A lot of it’s Cedric, I suppose. He’s the level-headed one, betweein the two of us. The mature one. Blimey, I make it sound like he’s my love-tutor or something. Sort of accurate, though.”
Saying it out loud only made Harry feel guiltier about the prolonged silence between the two of them. Cedric was always so patient and understanding, from the very beginning. Now Harry repaid that kindness by shutting him out after a bad Quidditch loss.
“Yeah, but I don’t mean just that,” Hermione said, dabbing her eyes with a tissue she conjured. “The worrying-about-the-future stuff. It must be hard on you, what with Cedric graduating at the end of the year, and wondering how that’ll change things between you. I guess that’s why I say it’s stupid to bicker over something like that. Because I don’t want to see you waste the time you’re both still here, you know?”
No, Harry didn’t know. Because he never thought about it. Sure, he knew Cedric would be graduating at the end of the year, but that always seemed so far away, with what would come after even further. Now that he did reflect on it, the school year would end in a little over four months. More time had passed since it began than was left. How much harder was it going to be to simply see one another face to face once September rolled back around?
He was being stupid. Harry could see that now. The time they still had together was precious, and not to be spent squabbling over things like Quidditch. He should’ve learned that lesson last June, when he nearly lost Cedric for good. No matter how much he loved the game, he loved Cedric more.
O O O O O O O
By the time Harry came to his revelation, it was already after curfew. This meant he had to wait for morning to speak with Cedric. He planned to, right as soon as he was done eating breakfast, and he would have if Cedric hadn’t come and found him with a piece of toast shoved halfway into his mouth.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hey!” said Harry, inadvertently spraying a bit of breadcrumb in the process.
“Can we talk?” Cedric asked.
“Of course we can,.” He dropped the remaining toast and rose from the table. As he followed Cedric out to the entrance hall, he told him, “I was going to come find you.”
“No need now,” Cedric replied with an uneasy smile.
“Listen, these last few days,” Harry said, “with us not talking and all, because - well, because -”
“Yes, I know,” Cedric interjected. “Because.”
“Well, it was stupid of me,” admitted Harry. “Avoiding you like that, it was…”
“I wasn’t much better,” Cedric shrugged. “Let’s put the whole thing behind us then, shall we?”
“I’d like that.”
There was a brief hesitation, and then a kiss. As always, Cedric’s lips restored most of Harry’s confidence. It didn’t wash the bad weekend away entirely, but it did remove the lingering discomfort between them.
“So, that article, eh?” Harry said. “Who would’ve thought we’d make lightning bolt scars a trend?”
“On that subject,” Cedric said, brandishing an envelope he pulled from his pocket, “I have some news. I got a letter today. From my father.”
“Ohh, no,” Harry groaned. “He’s gone off on you about it, hasn’t he?”
“The opposite, actually,” Cedric grinned. “He said doing the interview took a lot of courage. Sticking with the truth, no matter what anyone thinks or says about me, just proves that I’m my own man now, and he couldn’t be prouder. Some co-worker mouthed off about it to him, calling me a liar and a queer, and Dad punched him!”
“Really?” Harry laughed.
“Yeah! Probably not the best idea, but who cares? Plus, “Cedric brandished something shiny he pulled from his pocket, “he sent me this, with his apologies for taking it.”
It was Cedric’s old watch, the one his father took back last June when he saw Harry and Cedric asleep together in the hospital wing.
“That’s brilliant!” Harry exclaimed.
“I’ll be keeping the pocket watch you gave me, naturally.”
“Oh you’d better be,” Harry said, giving him a playful swat, which he then followed up with a great big hug. “I’m so happy for you, Cedric.”
“Me too,” said Cedric. “This whole thing, I’m so glad we did it. I think it’s really made a difference, speaking up and all.”
“Maybe even more than we know,” Harry replied.
“How d’you mean that?” Cedric asked, furrowing his brow in bemusement.
Taking Cedric’s hand, Harry answered, “Walk me to class.”
And as they walked, Harry told Cedric all about his new friend and admirer, the Slytherin boy named Paul.
END NOTES: I wanted to save this until the 11th, for 11/11/11, but sadly I’ll be without internet access. Because oh yeah, that’s right - I’M GETTING MARRIED IN TWO DAYS! Yep! Thursday the 10th at 5PM, EST, at the Wedding Pavilion in Disney World! :D
Very exciting, very nerve-wrecking. Seriously, there’s still so much to do and we leave in, um, an hour. I’m taking time out of the frenzy to make sure I post this! (The things I do for you people… :P just kidding!)
In other news, I have a tumblr! You can find it HERE if anyone wants to follow me! ALSO: part of what’s slowed down my updates is I’m writing a book! I’ll be self-publishing on the Amazon Kindle store if ya’ll are interested. I’ll updated you guys when there’s news.
Wish me luck, everyone! Love you all! -kevo