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X.

Jiminy Tolken was lying awake, staring at the empty bed next to him, the bed that belonged to Cedric Diggory. The grandfather clock in the corner ticked past 1:30, and still Jiminy thought, and still he waited, completely motionless but entirely awake, just as he had been when the boys had said good night nearly three hours ago.

"Where´s Cedric?" Jim had asked, and Elliot, lying in the hammock next to him (Helga Hufflepuff had been infamous for her mismatched sense of decoration and exactly none of the dormitories had a theme), had snorted.

"Probably off with Rotis," he´d said. "Should get caught by two."

"It isn´t fair," said another boy, sitting up from his cot. "Cedric has all the fun."

"Not when Wood finds out," said Elliot, and they had blown out their candles and lanterns, leaving Jiminy to wonder and worry in the darkness.

But it wasn´t about Cedric he was worrying - it was about himself.

What would he say? Jiminy wondered, staring at the empty pillow where Cedric´s head was usually resting. Would he run off? Would he apologize and say it couldn´t be?

Jiminy closed his eyes and bit his lip, willing his thoughts to go away and knowing they wouldn´t. They´d been there for the past five years, ever since that damned Sorting Ceremony, but it was only now they´d surfaced and pressed on Jiminy at every waking moment, stilling his tongue when Cedric spoke to him, shifting his gaze till Cedric was in it, forcing his eyelids open late at night to watch Cedric sleeping in the bed next to him, so close and yet so very far away.

"This can´t be happening," Jiminy murmured weakly, his throat tightening as the thoughts echoed in his head, singing their taunting song. "This can´t happen to me."

Would he run his fingers through his hair and act like he hadn´t heard?

The thoughts he had learned to deal with - it was the feelings he could not deny. When Cedric walked into a room, a sense of shyness overtook him. When Cedric looked at him, it sent a fire through his bones. And when Cedric murmured his name in his sleep -

The dormitory door opened and a familiar shadowy figure stalked over to the bed beside Jiminy. Even in the dimness of the small hours of the night, Jiminy could see Cedric´s smile, and before he realized he was doing it, he had addressed him.

"Where have you been?" he asked, trying to hide the eager curiosity in his voice.

Cedric smirked, pulling off his shoes as he sat on the bed. "Don´t tell the others," he said, nodding at the other three boys in their random sleeping quarters, all snoring soundly. "But I´ve been with Rotis."

Jiminy swallowed hard. "That´s where they said you would be. But I won´t tell," he added as Cedric undid his shirt buttons.

"Hagrid caught us," said Cedric as he pulled off his shirt. Jiminy drew the covers tighter under his chin, his heartbeat nearly as loud as the ticking grandfather clock. "Good thing he did, too, else we might have been there all night." He laughed as he pulled himself into the bed, putting his hands behind his head.

"Cedric," Jiminy ventured, his face the only part not hidden beneath the covers, pale. "Is she beautiful?"

Cedric sighed, his smile broadening. "More than she knows."

"Do you lo - " started Jiminy, but though he felt his entire life depended on the answer, he didn´t want to know it. Not just yet. "Does she make you happy?"

Cedric stifled a yawn. "´Course she does, Jiminy. She´s better than Quidditch." He rolled over on his side and gave a tired wave to Jim. "Night, then."

"Good night," said Jiminy, and though Cedric was already breathing deeply in slumber, he was still horrifically alert, the thoughts still singing in his mind, running through all the possibilities again and again, as they would all night long.

Would he say he loves me too?

_____________________

"Igmy Pygmy Amadeus? That can´t be right. . ."

"No, no, no, you stroke its spine, then it´ll open right up. Only you´ve got to repeat that every five minutes or so, else it´ll go feisty again."

"Really, does anyone give a damn about Boris the Bewildered? Did he himself even?"

"Madame Pince, the ink in my book keeps disappearing, can you bring it back?"

Rotis wiggled her foot nervously as she surveyed the occupants of the library, recognizing each one in turn; a Hufflepuff struggling with his Ancient Runes homework, a pair of Gryffindor boys trying to tame their copy of The Monster Book of Monsters, a Ravenclaw finishing a History of Magic parchment, and a tiny first-year tugging on the librarian´s robes, holding an oversized copy of The Daunting Diary: Read Me if You Can!

The library was fairly crowded, and Rotis wondered why Cedric had asked to meet her here. Cedric had made himself scarce since that night under the tree, but Rotis daydreamed of him so much that his physical absence was hardly noticed. If anything, it made her longing worse, remembering their brief encounter that night (though according to the clock when they´d snuck back in it had not been so brief), anticipating the next one. Because there had to be a next one, and preferably a thousand more. Which is why she eyed her surroundings woefully - there were masses of students about, and even if they did manage to find a deserted aisle of books to have a much wanted snog, there were those pesky author photographs.

"Really," said a wizard whose shoulders held at least four owls each on the back cover of Yowls with Owls. "Do you have to keep up that fidgeting? It´s making the birds nervous."

She reluctantly halted her foot wiggling and wondered if that poor wizard had realized how terrible his book´s title was before it went into print.

"Rotis!"

Her heart leapt into her throat as she turned to greet what had to be Cedric, but it wasn´t Cedric at all - it was her brother Oliver, looking very haggard and as though he hadn´t slept in days, pretty much like he always did when the Quidditch season was on.

"Oliver!" she said, trying to sound enthusiastic instead of revealing her disappointment. "What are you doing here?"

"It´s a library, isn´t it?" he said, grabbing her arm. "Come on, we should talk."

"Oh, no, Ol, I´m meet - "

"I´m your brother, the least you can do is have a chat with me," he said, and dragged her off behind an overstuffed bookshelf.

"So!" said Oliver, in a much too cheerful tone of voice as he steered his sister towards a scratched table and two wooden chairs. "What have you been up to? Mum sends her congratulations," he said, not waiting for a reply as he sat. Rotis, trying to convince herself that Cedric would wait, took the chair across from him.

"You got an owl?" she asked. He nodded, and Rotis noticed the bluish tint under his eyes, the lack of color in his face.

"Don´t know why she only sent Snufkin. I´m sure Hemulen would have appreciated the job." He tried a smile, but it fell sharply from his face. "How is the little runt?"

"Hemulen?" Rotis asked, torn between cutting this meeting short to find Cedric and letting her sisterly instinct convince Oliver he needed some sleep. "Oh, he´s fine. She only sent one letter?"

Oliver nodded again. "Said she was thrilled for you and sorry for me. Which is just about how I feel. As well as miffed."

"Miffed?" she said, wrinkling her nose. "You feel miffed?"

"Well, no, utterly devastated is more like it."

"Oh, Oliver. That´s pathetic."

"And we were pathetic! If it hadn´t been for - "

"Nobody could have known those damned dementors would be coming onto the field, honestly. It´s nobody´s - "

"Diggory," Oliver continued, and Rotis felt a slight shiver run up her spine at the anger in her brother´s voice. "If it hadn´t been for Diggory just accepting that he won - that you won. . . "

"Oliver, you´re not making any sense. Why are you angry?"

"It was humiliating, Rotis," he said, and she could see how bloodshot his eyes were. "Having to listen to him grovel and say he had no idea - "

"He didn´t have any idea!" Rotis said, a bit too loudly as a few wizard pictures harrumphed.

"But he could have just accepted that he won! That´s how you play the game!" More harrumphing from the bookshelf, and Oliver quieted his voice. "All I´m saying is that I´m not in a good way about the whole match, Rotis."

"But it´s over, Ol."

"Oh no, Rotis, it´s far from over." The veins in the back of his hands stood up as he clenched the table. "I can take losing - you´ve got an excellent team, you know - but when I can´t lose with dignity, when I´m forced to repeat it over and over, to convince someone that I´ve lost, it. . . it just goes against what I´m made for, Rotis. You should know that."

"You need sleep, Oliver," she said, looking at her brother sincerely. "And besides, it was just a rotten turn of events - the weather, Slytherin pulling out at the last minute, the dementors. It´s got nothing to do with you, or how you Captain your team. In fact, you might be the one drawback to being in Hufflepuff," she said, only half-honestly, but it worked, and a small smile crept onto Oliver´s face.

"Now go get some rest, and stop worrying about Quidditch," she said, scooting out from her chair. Oliver stood, turning to depart before abruptly grabbing Rotis in a hug. The Wood children had never been very affectionate, least of all to each other (wrestling matches and routine beatings of each other made up their childhood memories), and as Rotis awkwardly patted her brother´s back, she felt a sudden bond between them. He was someone who would always be there, she realized. He always had and he always would.

Unwrapping his arms from around her, he started to walk off, but stopped and turned, having remembered something.

"Next time you practice," he said, "tell Cedric congratulations."

"For what?" she asked, knowing he would not have given up his malignance toward the match that easily, hug or not.

"For having such a good team," he said, smiling weakly. He waved, and Rotis leaned against the table, wondering why she would have to wait till practice to tell him when she´d be meeting him -

Two equally startling thoughts entered her mind. She was supposed to meet Cedric, something she´d completely forgotten, and Oliver had no idea she and Cedric had

She put her hand over her mouth, realizing what a very tricky predicament she had found herself in. Oliver could not know, she thought. Oliver must not ever know. He´d beat the tar out of Cedric.

Cedric. She hopped off the table and scampered out of the bookshelves, only to be yanked back into them by an outstretched hand.

"Rotis!" said Cedric once he had managed to conceal both of them behind a particularly large shelf of books. Her expression revealed she felt the same as him, both thrilled and wary, which caused her to shove her hands in her pockets and bite her lip, giving her the appearance of someone who´d done a bad, bad thing. But perhaps we did do a bad, bad thing? he thought devilishly, his mind wandering back to the night in the forest. Rotis´ voice jerked him out of his thoughts.

"Why are we here?" she asked, looking around at the library.

"We´ve got to talk," he said, gray eyes darting to the ground.

"Here?" Rotis repeated, eyeing a leather-bound volume that was inching itself off the shelf, as though to get a better listening point. Cedric shoved it back in place listlessly.

"Yes, here. We can´t be seen together - "

"What?"

"People will start to think - "

"Cedric, this place is full of people!" Cedric was quiet. "Are we having our first fight?" Rotis asked, wrinkling her nose.

"We´re not an `our´," said Cedric. This was not the answer she expected, and a flurry of emotions suddenly charged out of her mouth before she could stop them.

"What? What are you talking about, Cedric Diggory? We nearly had se - "

And Cedric was forced to grab her hands and kiss her, Rotis immediately shutting up and turning into a puddle.

Drawing away, seeing Rotis looking up at him with unrefined glee on her face, he felt a familiar dizzying sensation and muttered, "Maybe we should go somewhere more - no." And he let her go, trying to ignore the hurt on her face and the hurt in his chest.

"Rotis, we´ve got to wait - come on, grab a book, let´s try to look normal," he said, reaching for the nearest tome and motioning Rotis out of the shelves, onto a nearby couch. Once seated, he opened the book on his lap, Rotis doing the same, the pair looking to all outward appearances like another set of students studying in the library.

"What is going on, Cedric?" asked Rotis, feeling worried, the last thing she wanted to feel around Cedric.

"I overheard some of the guys a few days ago, talking about you - about us. And about the team."

Rotis bit her lip and tried to concentrate on pretending to concentrate on the book on her lap, though she wanted to scream and insist she would not be put behind a sport, no matter what anyone said.

"Everyone´s counting on us, Rotis. On the team. They think since we didn´t lose the last match we´re going straight to the Cup this year." Rotis heard the omittance of the word `win´ like a siren, but said nothing, trying to forget she had talked to Oliver only minutes ago, and that she was precariously balancing between the two boys. "If they knew we were. . ." he started, but not wanting to categorize the state he and Rotis were in, stopped and started again. "If they had any idea I forget who I am when someone else says your name or when you enter a room," Rotis blushed, but it disappeared as Cedric turned to her and finished, "they´d kill me. And they´d kill you."

Rotis hurriedly turned a page in her book.

"They wouldn´t, Cedric," she said. "That´s not the way things work, at least in our House." Hufflepuff and sabotage were two words rarely seen beside each other.

"We´re scripted as harmless and happy, but have you ever seen a real badger work? He´s ferocious, he´s determined, he´s kind of scary. That´s the way they are now that they think we´ve got a chance at victory. Which is why we´ve got to wait, but Rotis," he said, turning to face her, though it went completely against the two-kids-just-studying disguise, "I´d give it up in a second if it meant we could openly be together."

"You can´t do that, Cedric," Rotis said reluctantly. "We´ve got to try and win."

Cedric actually flinched at the word, and Rotis felt slightly bewildered that she could be blood to someone who had used the word since he was born and still be so desperately attached to someone who avoided it like the plague. She felt as though she was being told to stand in two places that were miles apart, and she had to straddle them tirelessly.

"Besides, Cedric," she said, nudging closer to him. "We can be together," and she giggled a little, "we just can´t get caught."

He smirked at her and passed as many mysterious and seductive and alluring glances as his eyes could stand before leaping off the couch to avoid the temptation. Rotis smiled from the couch, the unwavering need to leap on him at its peak, but she waved haphazardly and turned back to the book.

"Till further notice, then," he said, and he dashed out of the library to think of all the ways he could sneak Rotis to him.

_____________________

"You know, Parvati, that Harry boy isn´t all that bad-looking . . ."

Rotis sighed, wishing she was anywhere but here, in the Greenhouse, pulling a Festering Freesia root out of the dirt. She was sweaty, she was tired, and she was being forced to listen to the worst of all student talks - Gryffindor gossip.

"You think I haven´t noticed?"

And the two burst into giggles. Rotis could hardly tell the difference between the two, and didn´t want to - any girl who called the defeater of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named `that Harry boy´ was an absolute incompetent git. She didn´t see how those two ninnies would ever be helpful, let alone courageous or brave as their House suggested, in a desperate situation.

"Oo, Lavender, but what about that Hufflepuff boy?" asked the other one.

"Which one?"

"You know," came the knowing response, "the Quidditch one."

Rotis´ tried to subtly yank a root out.

"You mean Cedric Diggory?" And now Rotis gave up subtleties as she fairly ripped the root from the ground, but the Gryffindor girls were too busy tittering to notice. "Oh, yea, I know."

"Almost wish we had had a re-match," said one in an over-forlornly voice. "So we could go out and watch him again."

Gales of laughter descended upon Rotis as she blushed furiously, digging her teeth into her tongue to keep from lashing out on just whose boy they were so openly discussing.

"Too bad he´s not a Gryffindor," came the final response, before they moved onto the Ravenclaw boys they wanted to snog. Rotis realized this secrecy business would be a bit more difficult than she thought, especially when it came to chatty, shallow, and all-around girlish females like those she was stuck digging up roots with.

She was still musing over it when Professor Sprout told them to go wash up and head to the castle, and when she was walking up the steps to the Great Hall, and when she was ambling down a hallway, headed to the common room, when a hand shot out of a closet and dragged her inside.

But she recognized the stranger immediately as Cedric, not only from his big-knuckled hands, but from the scent in the closet - it was barely there, competing with the odors of dust-bunnies and cleaning solves, but the trace of mint and fall leaves that clung to Cedric, that she´d become over-sensitized to.

"You know," he said, studying her in the single-bulb light of the broom closet, "that you´ve got freckles?" He lightly touched her nose, and she scowled.

"You know you´ve got dimples?" she asked, in the exact opposite tone of Cedric´s. He smiled.

"And you´ve got the most wonderful ears - "

"Ears?" she said, but was cut off as Cedric reached for the light bulb chain and pulled it off, simultaneously grabbing Rotis in a kiss.

Fumbling around in the darkness, trying to avoid tripping over buckets and colliding with brooms, Rotis forgot entirely about the newsmongers she´d suffered earlier, though she did wish slightly that they could see her now. Thinking of the awful magpies, she suddenly felt a new apprehension.

"Wait," she said, though it was the last thing she wanted to do. "What if someone catches us?"

Cedric (who hadn´t waited at all) replied by steering her towards the door and pressing her against it, adding his own weight on top of that. It was a more than sufficient doorblock.

Some twenty minutes later, Rotis reemerged looking bedraggled, worn out, and rather pink in the face, but her ridiculous grin outshone any of these attributes. Cedric, who had left through a different exit (broom closets are always equipped with at least four exits made specifically for cases like this), wore a crooked tie, and several licks of hair had taken to standing up like his trademark one in front, but he didn´t seem to mind.

The two entered the Great Hall for dinner through opposite doorways, both sitting with their respective group of friends, and acting as though nothing at all had happened, though both were busily plotting their next surprise for each other in the privacy of their minds.

But not everyone was fooled.

"Have a nice snog?" asked Gaiter, and Rotis only blushed, before remembering herself and firmly kicking her friend under the table.

Only after she was positive that the students around her were completely engrossed in their food did Rotis meet Gaiter´s eye across the table, her idiot smile returning.

"Yes," she said. "I did."