Barriers Between

Barriers Between

Cedric trudged along behind his father toward their campsite. He was quiet, making non-committal noises at his father's incessant talking. He was still embarrassed by his dad's behaviour towards Harry Potter.

After they'd erected their tent, Cedric excused himself, claiming he wanted to see if some of his friends had already arrived. What he really wanted was to be alone for a bit, to get some space to breathe.

He walked through the rows of tents, looking down at his shoes. He hoped that no one would recognise him. His destination was the little forest he had seen at the other end of the campsite. It would be cool and quiet, and Cedric could already imagine the bark pressing into his back as he sat down on the ground leaning against a tree.

"Oi, Diggory!" Bugger ...

Cedric looked up, annoyed at being disturbed and annoyed at himself for believing he could just wander across a campsite at the Quidditch World Cup without being noticed. It was Wood, who grinned at him, obviously in high spirits.

"Wood." Cedric inclined his head a fraction. Maybe a tad too formal ...

"Merlin, Cedric, one could think you were forced to come here. It's the Quidditch World Cup, mate. The World Cup!" Wood grabbed his shoulders enthusiastically and shook him, excitement evident in every gesture and the twinkle in his eyes. Cedric blinked, slightly overwhelmed at being ripped from his solitary thoughts by this very bouncy Wood.

"Yeah, the World Cup. It's going to be grand," Cedric answered, managing a sincere smile and leaning into Oliver's embrace, before he became fully aware of the very awkward pose they had found themselves in. Oliver and he were standing very close, too close, and Oliver had his hands on his shoulders. Cedric took a quick step back, blushing.

"So!" He cleared his throat. "Have you met anyone else from school yet?"

"Oh, loads of people. We're over on the other field, behind the woods there. Tell you what, why don't you come and we'll just do the rounds together. The Bulgarians have set up camp, it's brilliant, you've got to see it. And the Irish! Come on, let's go!"

Taken by surprise, Cedric found himself being dragged along by Oliver Wood, who, Cedric was sure, was going to collapse before the game even started, if he continued like that. He was much more of an overexcited little boy than the professional Quidditch player that he'd become very recently, as Cedric had heard through the Quidditch grapevine.

"Wood! Oliver, stop!"

Oliver, who was still grasping Cedric's wrist firmly, looked back in surprise. Cedric had dug his heels into the grass and was panting from the effort to stop Oliver. "What's the matter with you, Cedric?"

"Look, I don't think it's a terribly great idea if Gryffindor's former Quidditch God runs around the campsite with a Hufflepuff Seeker in tow. And my dad is here, too."

"You're probably right, I'm sorry." Oliver dropped Cedric's hand. "Went a bit overboard there."

"It's okay. I'll see you at the game then?"

"Yeah, I hope so. See you then."

With all due respect for Oliver's enthusiasm, Cedric remained rooted to the spot as he watched Oliver's retreating back. He took a quick look around to see if anyone, especially his dad, was looking. Now, more than before, he craved the solitude of the quiet forest and he continued on his way into the woods, making sure he wouldn't be disturbed this time.

He collapsed against a tree and ran a shaky hand through his hair. Man, that had been close! He was glad his father hadn't seen them. He'd never hear the end of it. His son hugging another man in public! And it hadn't even been a hug. Cedric drew his knees up and held them to his chest. He suddenly felt unbearably tired. Cedric closed his eyes and let his thoughts wander. From beyond the forest he heard faint noises: hundreds of wizards and witches in anticipation of tonight's match, Quidditch anthems and cheering ...

>>>O<<<

Cedric watched the Gryffindor team and their supporters run wild after Harry caught the Snitch. He shouted along with the other Hufflepuffs; they might not have won the Cup this year, but at least it wasn't Slytherin who had. And that was excellent news. Then he caught sight of Oliver, clutching the Cup, tears of joy streaming down his face. Cedric knew the sight should make him happy as well, and he was, but before anything else, it saddened him. Oliver's exuberance at winning the Quidditch Cup before leaving school made it all the more clear that he really wasn't coming back next year. After one last look at Oliver, Cedric slouched off to hide in his four-poster.

"Ced, you in here?" Smith called. Cedric remained silent, willing him to go away.

"You got an owl," Zach tried.

Cedric hastily opened the curtains a fraction and stretched out his hand. He closed them again with equal speed when Zach handed him the parchment.

It was a note from Oliver. They were to meet at their usual spot later that night, when Oliver could get away from the celebrations without arousing too much suspicion.

Midnight found Cedric pacing the corridor. Thank Merlin he was a Prefect and had a chance of getting away with sneaking about at night. Soon enough, he heard someone approaching and stopped in his tracks. When Oliver stood in front of him, they looked at each other for a few seconds. Soon Oliver leaned in and dropped little kisses along Cedric's jaw before moving up for a proper kiss.

"I missed you at the celebrations today," Oliver whispered, their lips still touching. Cedric frowned. Oliver knew he couldn't very well show up at Gryffindor Tower. "Yes, I know, you don't even have to say anything," Oliver continued, "but still. It's stupid that we should only be able to meet after dark in secret."

"It's not!" Cedric pushed Oliver away so he could get a proper look at his face. "I know you think that, and that's all very well. Your family know, they don't care. If my dad ever finds out that we've been meeting, that we -" He choked himself into silence and looked down, arms hanging by his side in defeat.

"Shh, it's okay." Oliver hugged him gently. "I'm sorry. I just wish things were easier sometimes. But let's not spend the last couple of days we have together fighting." He kissed that special spot behind Cedric's ear, and then Cedric couldn't help but lean into the embrace, his arms circling around Oliver's waist.

"I wish things were easier, too. I'll miss you," Cedric whispered into Oliver's chest.

Oliver tipped Cedric's chin up and dropped a chaste kiss on Cedric's lips. "So will I, Cedric."

Oliver dropped to his knees. For a second, Cedric expected him to pull out a little jewellery box. There was no way he could explain that to his father and live to tell the tale. Thankfully, he was proven wrong.

Oliver slowly unzipped Cedric's trousers, all the while looking up into Cedric's face. "I'll give you something to remember me by." Oliver grinned up at Cedric before focussing his attention elsewhere.

>>>O<<<

That last encounter at Hogwarts remained a treasured memory for Cedric - one that he frequently revisited, like now while he was eating an icecream at Fortescue's. He hadn't seen much of Oliver for the short remainder of the school year, nor had he heard from him once school finished and he was back at home. The last time he'd seen Oliver was at the World Cup, and that had been a pretty awkward encounter.

Better that way, he thought. His dad would have gone spare if he'd realised Cedric was receiving owls from a boy who wasn't even in his House, let alone his year at Hogwarts.

Lost in his thoughts, his ice cream melting before him, Cedric started when someone called his name.

"Oh, hi Oliver." Why did he suddenly have to be so nervous?

"Hey. Getting ready for the new school year?" Oliver nodded towards the packages at Cedric's side as he flopped down in the seat opposite Cedric, depositing a small book on the table.

"Yeah. Mum and Dad are over at Gringotts organising some stuff and then I guess we'll be off. Must finish packing, you know." He hoped Oliver understood the hint.

"I see. Just wanted to say a quick hello anyway. I'm sorry I didn't see you again at the World Cup."

"So am I." Cedric blushed and looked down at his hands.

Oliver reached out to hold the painfully knotted fingers, but Cedric quickly withdrew his hands.

"Don't," he warned, glancing around quickly to see if his parents were near.

"I won't, don't worry." Oliver smiled sadly and got up to leave. He pushed the book towards Cedric. "Here, you keep this. You know where to find me, if you need me." With that, he left. Cedric watched him disappear in the crowd.

He could see the book out of the corner of his eye. When he was sure he didn't see Oliver's back any more, he picked it up.

It opened immediately along a well-worn crease to a dog-eared page.

"Barriers Between," the title read. How fitting, Cedric thought, and went on to read what turned out to be a rather cheesy love poem. He grinned. Who would have thought that Oliver Wood, who only ever thought about Quidditch, had a romantic streak? Who would have thought that he liked poetry?

Cedric continued browsing through the little booklet. He smirked, and sometimes stifled a laugh when he read a particularly outrageous line. As sappy as the poems were, some of them really were quite nice. And they were gay poems, all of them.

"What are you reading there, son?" Oh shit!

"Nothing, someone left this and I was just flicking through. It's poetry." He hoped he'd sounded derisive enough, hoped his dad wouldn't look, hoped he'd be able to sneak the book in his pocket.

Last night I dreamed of Oliver,

the withered leaves of memory stir

when love-winds over sleep-land blow