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A/N: This chapter has been a long time coming... A whole two months and twelve days, in fact. But it's finally here, so I pray--as always--that you enjoy it. However, the usual thank you's are in order: Dolphin4442, Akira M, Elliesmeow, Tate Dean, cheshirecate1333, Winter's Empire, CT1994, Idle Writer of Crack, Rin1507, ForeverBlue90, pottersgirl91, justareader7883, ChamberlinofMusic, Dramione-Fan 17, WickedSoulx, and Mary-La. Thank you to all of you for reading and reviewing, even to those who are not specifically mentioned above. I appreciate your patience and devotion.
Chapter 14 – A Break
He was all but cackling with hysterical glee. Perched on the arm of a chair in front of his uncle's painting, he smirked and sipped in celebration on a tumbler full of the finest alcohol.
“I promise you, Uncle,” he spoke with triumphant mirth to an empty frame, “I will give you justice.”
With that vow, he stood and downed the last of his brandy. He had somewhere to be soon, so he dawned his patched, darned trench coat and dragon hide boots. Retrieving his wand from his coat pocket, he made his way out of the room, down the corridor, and out the front door.
As he trudged across the darkening yard, he glanced at the setting sun. The Aurors would be changing shifts now, and he needed to catch up with Amos Diggory.
Hermione sighed and gave him a glance from where she sat at her desk.
“I practically killed myself on the last essay I turned in for Professor Ericson, and I only managed to get half marks.” The frown lines on her forehead deepened and the depression that belied her face was sincere and profound. “I have no clue what he wants from me. I put every possible bit of information I could into that defense essay. It came out to be four feet of parchment!”
“Ericson,” Diggory smiled as he tossed aside his letter and swung his legs off the bed. “I can tell you something that would probably get you full marks.”
Hermione looked skeptical for a moment. She and Cedric had been getting along rather well for the past three days since he had apologized. He kept his half of the room tidy, or at least tidy in his opinion, which was something Hermione had come to tolerate. He had even taken to asking his friends and girlfriend to leave an hour earlier than he used to so that they could both retire to bed at a reasonable hour. In return, Hermione had stopped nagging so much, and she even left his things alone when they occasionally strayed to her half of the room. With the atmosphere becoming more and more relaxed by the day, they had actually begun speaking to each other more.
“What advice do you have for me, then?” Hermione inquired reluctantly. She had never asked for help on a homework assignment before, and it pained her greatly to do so now.
“Stop relying so much on a book, for one,” Cedric counseled as he walked over and shut the text in front of her. “Try writing more from experience... Ericson looks at an essay like he does a good story. He doesn't want to read boring material that he teaches daily in class year after year... He wants action and firsthand knowledge.”
She appeared to ponder this for a moment, but the furrow in her brow still remained in place. Hermione tapped her quill against the desk and then her chin, her eyes roaming over the many papers, inkwells, quills, and books before her.
“C'mon,” Cedric sighed, propping himself on the edge of her desk. “You cannot tell me that you don't have any experience to draw from.” She merely glanced up at him and gaped a little. “What about using the battle at Hogwarts to help? Dueling Club from the year Lockhart taught Defense? Something!”
Inspiration dawned in her eyes like a meteor exploding into the atmosphere. Her confused, hopeless scowl melted away. She felt so silly for not having thought of those situations herself.
“Got something?” he beamed, happy to have helped.
She gave no answer as she turned to her parchment and began scribbling in a frenzy fit to set the paper on fire. Her frenetic scrawling got the best of his curiosity, so he rose and moved to stand behind her. He leaned down, one hand resting on the back of her chair and the other spread flat on the desk next to her elbow.
His breath mingled in her hair, moving it and warming its already frizzing strands. She paid no mind to it, though. She was too busy scripting out her version of her fight with Bellatrix Lestrange during the final battle from a year ago. In fact, both Cedric and Hermione were so engrossed in the scene that she was scratching down that neither of them heard the door open.
Bones of forgotten feline feasts crunched and cracked under his dragon skin boots, but he did not seem to notice, or at least did not care. He had a determined note in his stride as he made his way down the alley towards a large, rusted green dumpster. He paused beside it and gazed at the mouth of the narrow passageway for a moment. He knew that within mere minutes, the one man who was key in opening his attempt to find Hermione Granger would venture down this very alleyway.
Roden backed up against the rough brick wall of a nearby building and crouched into the shadows of the hoary dumpster. His already battered coat snagged against the sandy, scratchy surface as he sank into the darkness, concealing himself from obvious sight. His ears tingled, honing in on the sound of footsteps along the sidewalk just at the end of the alley. His eyes dilated to adjust to the obscure, almost like the cat, who still waited angrily in its box.
A car whizzed by on the main street; its muffler loud and backfiring every so often. The cat hissed again at the loud bang and shifted in its box, its eyes darting. Long, thin shadows wavered across the alley floor. Aurors were beginning to file out of the public restrooms down the street where the Ministry of Magic Floo Network ended. Soon, Amos Diggory would traverse the darkness, unknowing of what awaited him.
Hermione's quill scratched to a halt on her parchment, marring the paper and splotching ink as she turned her head and peered past Cedric's shoulder.
His face was perilously close to hers. His breath mingled with her own, and she could see each individual little stubble on his chin.
“Cedric!” Bethany snapped, trying to get his attention. “I'm talking to you!”
Diggory finally stopped reading Hermione's essay and turned his head, too. He appeared torn by devoting his attention to his girlfriend and finishing the riveting tale Hermione was spinning on her parchment.
“What is this?” his girlfriend demanded, throwing a hand out before her in a disgusted gesture.
Cedric looked from Bethany to Hermione. For the first time since he had began reading over her shoulder, he realized just how close he was to her, yet he made no attempt to move. His gaze drifted back to the other girl again before he slowly straightened. He glanced back at his roommate once more before shrugging.
“What's it look like?” he inquired sincerely.
Bethany's eyes narrowed; she had obviously mistaken his honest confusion with rhetorical sarcasm.
“It looks to me like you're getting cozy with your roomy,” she hissed, crossing her arms over her chest in a huff.
Cedric chortled in amusement at her jealousy. The sound of his laughter was sharp and only served to increase the uncomfortable tension in the room. He did not dignify her accusation with a response as he shook his head and eyed her with entertained skepticism. She was always incriminating him of wrongful, cheating acts when it came to other females.
“I should go... I need to meet up with Chau in the library anyways,” Hermione confessed as she grabbed her bag from the back of her chair and began stuffing parchment, books, and quills inside it without ceremony or neatness.
The stiffness of the atmosphere was making her nervous, especially since that stiffness centered around her.
“You don't have to feel uncomfortable because of her,” Cedric interjected, gazing back at the younger girl as he leisurely folded his arms over his chest and widened his stance. “This is your room as well as mine, and you should not feel the need to leave when she enters.”
“Cedric!” Bethany howled. She threw her arms out to her sides and stormed over to him. She gave his chest a shove, which rocked his balance, but he did not budge a single step.
“Well, it's true,” he stated in careless defense. “Every time you come in the room you try to make her feel as though she's a hindrance or that she should depart so we can be alone.” He gesticulated and gave his girlfriend a lazy, somewhat annoyed gaze. “I feel ill at ease when we're sharing a simple kiss and she's in the room, so she must feel something of the same.”
“A little alone time would be nice,” Bethany interrupted, feeling as though Cedric was saying that he felt embarrassment at kissing her in front of others. “She does not always have to be in the room!”
“That's besides the point,” he grumbled. “She has a right to be in the room whenever she plea--”
“But all the time?” the older girl fumed, cutting off his remark. “She never leaves! She's always got her nose shoved in a book while she either nags you or sits here pretending to read, but I know what she's really up to!”
“And what, pray tell, would that be?” Hermione butt in as she rose quickly to her feet. She had been willing to just slip out and let the lovers have their quarrel, but now Bethany seemed to be making personal stabs at her. And she could only be made to take so much.
“I see the furtive little glances you throw his way--”
“Oh, please!” Hermione scoffed, rolling her eyes and slamming her bag down on her now vacated seat. “He shares a room with me... if my eyes should happen to roam to his half of the room at some point, then it's purely by accident, I assure you. I am certainly not sizing him up or having daydreams about him.”
“By accident,” Bethany repeated with disdainful mocking. “I'm so sure.”
Hermione pursed her lips and clenched her fists. It was like dealing with Lavender Brown all over again, and that was one particular memory from Hogwarts she did not care to relive, especially now that she was at a new school.
“Enough, Beth--”
“No, Cedric!” his girlfriend erupted. “How can you stand there and defend her like this and expect me to believe that there is not something going on?”
“Because nothing is!” Hermione and Cedric yelled in unison.
“I heard you two the other night.”
“What?” Diggory snarled disbelievingly. His girlfriend had only been present one night within the recent week, and Cedric had not said two words to Hermione that evening while Bethany was there. So what, exactly, could she be referring to?
“When you two were fighting the other night,” she reminded, trying to jog his memory, but it apparently was not working. Cedric merely looked back to Hermione, who was still glaring at the other female. “You offered her the chance to see your most embarrassing memory... You won't even let me see that!” Hurt crept into her voice now as she shoved him again, which still lacked effect. “You won't introduce me to your parents, and you have only ever bought me dinner... But yet you bought her a diary... which is a good place for her to keep all her dirty little thoughts about you!”
“Stop!” Hermione bellowed, her knuckles going white on her bag strap as she continued to glower at Bethany. “I do not have any dirty thoughts about Cedric... And he merely offered me what he did because he was trying to make up for something he did wrong. It was not some hidden gesture of love or longing, and it was not made to make you feel inadequate or less worthy.”
With that, Hermione snatched up her inkwell, tossed it inside of her bag, and slung the bag over her shoulder. She shoved past her chair, toppling it against her bed in the process. She stormed past Cedric and Bethany, staggering them both as she headed for the door. Her hand slammed down onto the handle, and she gave it a harder-than-necessary turn before looking back over her shoulder.
“And another thing,” Hermione growled as she eyed Bethany with great dislike, “you should really stop giving him such a hard time. He is rather devoted to you and puts up with quite a bit of your bullshit.” Here, Cedric's eyes went wide. He had not expected to ever hear her curse, especially not in a matter where she was defending his character. “Any lesser man would have blown you off by now,” Hermione added. “Not to mention, I should tell you that it makes you look bad anyways. Green is a lovely shade, but not when it coincides with jealousy.” That being said, Hermione whipped around and stomped roughly into the corridor, sweeping the door shut noisily behind her.
He leaned forward, rocking on the balls of his feet as he hugged himself. He needed to get the adrenaline under control. He was so close to unlocking the door to Hermione Granger that he could feel the figurative key brushing his fingertips.
A chuckle escaped his lips as shadows began to shrink on the alley pavement. A sure sign that people were edging ever closer to his hiding place. And he sincerely hoped that one of them was Amos Diggory.
He straightened, shifting his tense, cramping legs as he waited. He had only seconds before he would pounce out upon them and take them by surprise.
His eyes stayed trained on the deepening silhouettes. He held his breath as the steps of the approaching people echoed in his ears like drums in a monastery. His heartbeat warred to be heard against the tattoo of advancing soles on the ground.
Two men came into view. Their faces were deeply shadowed and tired-looking. They muttered goodbyes to each other as they both reached into the pockets of their robes to retrieve their wands. Neither took notice of Roden, who was still frozen in the darkness of the dumpster. He watched them nod to one another before disappearing with twin, echoing claps.
The cat across the way chose now to run. It bolted from its hiding place, startled by the noise, and raced for the dumpster where the man was crouched. Leaping into the air, the stray hit the top of the dumpster and vanished through a broken window.
“Blimey!” gasped a woman as she backed against the wall across the way and aimed her wand at the green receptacle. The cat had given her quite the scare, and she wanted to see just where it had gone. “Lumos!” Light burst forth from her wand tip, revealing trash, empty boxes, battered brick walls, and the startling figure of a man. She gasped again, gripping the lid to the trash can as her heart leaped into her throat. She knew this man. She had seen him once before at the residence of Harry Potter's friend.
Then, with movements that would put lightning to shame, he was standing upright and aiming his wand at her. A vicious snarl tore from his lips and a curse exploded from his outstretched wand.
This blond woman was not the person he had been expecting, and he needed to deal with her quickly if he was to capture Amos Diggory. He could not have her exposing him before his victim happened along.
She ducked, scrunching her body low to the ground and using a forgotten trash lid as a shield. Running, she just made it behind the same stairs he had descended earlier. From her blockade, she sent a hex meant to paralyze him.
He dove, landing on the opposite side of the alley atop some sopping cardboard boxes. Rolling, he knocked over some trash bins, but just managed to dodge another jinx from her.
The blond rose, trying to get a better aim at her target; however, this was a mistake.
In the split second that she took to calculate her attack, he sent a spell her way. It hit the trash lid she was holding like a medieval shield and sent her sprawling. Her head bounced against the damp, dirty concrete like a child's toy ball. Lights popped in her vision, and she felt a warm, nauseating pain explode in the back of her skull.
As she laid there, trying to discern night from bordering unconsciousness, Roden drew precariously closer. Nonetheless, she had no idea that her attacker was upon her until his blurry, wavering image skirted into view. His sounds were drown out by the rushing sound of blood and the hammering pain in her skull.
He gazed down upon her with pure revolt. His hands shook, and he longed to end her life then and there. She had cost him his encounter with Amos Diggory. Even so, he could not give her the punishment that he felt she had so justly brought upon herself by intruding into matters that did not concern her. If he were to leave her dead in this alleyway that so many of the Aurors used, then they would know that something was afoul.
Laughter at the end of the alley told him that others were drawing close. He needed to do something with her. He certainly could not leave her if he could not murder her. She would, without a doubt, have the entire Auror squad looking for him the second that she came to. She had saw him plainly and would be too much of a liability for him to simply let her lie. And Merlin knew he was no expert at memory alterations, so he had only one choice as a group of men turned into the mouth of the side street and began heading his way.
Crouching down, Roden crushed her wrist in his grip and held out his wand. With a resounding crack that startled both the men and the tabby in the window, he and the blond witch were gone.
“I won't put up with it anymore, Bethany,” he grouched, his voice determined and final. “We need to take a break, and that's that... You've grown out of control with possessiveness and jealousy. I can't take it... I shouldn't have to.”
“I am not asking you to put up with it, but please... please give me a second chance. It's not as though I've cheated on you or something. This is a minor mistake that can be corrected.”
Hermione frowned. She hated to hear any girl, good or bad, sound as Bethany sounded on the other side of her dorm door. And speaking of bad, what was she doing listening in on their conversation? It was wrong, but she felt some obligation to the situation; she felt somehow at fault for what was transpiring inside that room.
“Can you blame me for being so attached?” Bethany cried.
“Yes, indeed I can,” Cedric barked. “Your possessiveness speaks volumes for your mistrust. Every time you snap at me about looking in another girl's direction or talking to another female, it not only says that you do not trust them, but me as well.”
“I do trust you!”
“No! I don't think that you do,” Diggory hissed, “or else you wouldn't get so angry when I speak to my roommate or smile at one of your friends.”
“I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!”
“Sorry won't fix things this time, Beth,” he sighed heavily. “We need to take a break... You need time to work on your issues with greed over my attention, and I need some space. I can't have you smothering me like this and arguing with me every time my eyes come unglued from you or your name isn't sitting on the tip of my tongue.”
Someone moved on the other side of the door and the handle lurched against Hermione's grip. She jumped back, afraid of being caught eavesdropping.
Diggory appeared on the other side of the door, his expression indifferent as he waited for his girlfriend—or rather ex-girlfriend—to leave. Bethany sniffled and a hiccup stuck in her throat as she stood frozen in place.
“You can't be seri--”
“I am serious,” Cedric stated steadily, trying to keep his anger under wraps. “Now I think that you need to leave.”
He watched as tears welled in her eyes. She waited only a second, which was long enough for one tear to slip down her cheek, and then she took long strides out into the corridor. Her sorrow melted away for a moment as she laid eyes on Hermione. The rage and ire that bubbled inside was evident in Bethany's eyes as they bore into Hermione's. She took a step back from the older girl, who began shaking as more tears slipped down her cheeks.
“This is your fault,” she growled before spinning away and rampaging down the hallway.
Hermione gaped after her, unsure if she should feel outrage at the accusation or alarm. When she turned to Cedric, she saw he was leaning against the door, his eyes dull with tiredness and apathy as he watched Bethany stalk away. He turned away without so much as a word and retreated to his desk. Plopping down, he scrubbed his face with his hands and appeared much older than he truly was.
Guilt seated itself deeper in Hermione's stomach, and she almost squirmed with discomfort. She followed him into the room, trying to make as little noise as possible.
“I'm sorry,” she muttered as she righted her desk chair and hung her satchel on the back of it.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Diggory replied tonelessly as he stood up and pulled his shirt over his head. “You did nothing wrong.” He discarded his T-shirt on the chair and yanked back his bedcovers before flopping down on the mattress. He eyed the ceiling for a moment before exposing his back to his roommate and falling into awkward silence.
“What are you on about, Monterey?” chuckled another man from the Obliviator's Headquarters.
“Just... just a moment ago, there was a man crouched over someone up there,” Monterey stuttered as he pointed into the darkness of the alleyway.
“Don't be ridiculous, man,” Diggory flouted as he pulled out his wand and lit it.
The light chased away the shadows and began revealing a normal looking alley. Trash, boxes, lids to rubbish bins. Then the beam of brightness brought a shoe into view. Not far from the shoe lay a forgotten, carved wooden rod. And just above that was a small, but distinct pool of thick redness.
The three men approached the items with caution, allowing the light to bathe the scene and make further detail more apparent.
“It's blood,” the Obliviator breathed as he touched a fingertip to the crimson pool and felt its stickiness.
“Monterey,” Amos uttered with reverence, “hurry back to the Ministry and tell them that we have a crime scene on our hands. We need to close off this alley to all visitors so that we can try and figure out what happened here.”
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