The flickering candles cast long shadows across the Slytherin common room, turning the usual green glow into something more intimate, more secret. The chatter and laughter felt distant to Cedric D tonight. His fingers traced the rim of his firewhisky goblet as his eyes kept drifting toward you across the crowded room. You were talking to a small group of students, your smile lighting the dim space in a way he couldn’t forget.

He had no right to be here, really—not like this. Not after everything that had happened between you two. The quiet ending, the unresolved words, the distance that had settled like a fog. But here he was, drawn like a moth to a flame he tried to ignore.

A rough shove to his shoulder jolted him from his thoughts.

—“Oi, Cedric,” slurred a friend, his breath smelling of strong drink, “You gonna keep staring at them all night, or actually make a move?”

Cedric chuckled, a bit uneven, a soft hiccup interrupting his breath.

—“Maybe I’m just waiting for the right moment,” he said, voice low and uneven.

His friend rolled his eyes.

—“Mate, the night’s almost over. You gotta stop being a coward.”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Cedric set his drink down and pushed off from the wall. The crowd swirled around him, a sea of robes and whispered gossip, but his focus was fixed.

When he reached you, you turned just in time to catch him off balance. Your eyes widened slightly, surprised and perhaps a little wary.

Cedric smiled, a genuine but shy expression that didn’t quite reach his eyes. His breath came quick and warm as he stepped closer, the weight of the years and unspoken feelings pressing down on him.

Without thinking, he leaned in, nuzzling his cheek against your neck in a clumsy, drunken attempt at closeness.

—“I can’t help…” he hiccuped softly, voice thick with longing and regret, “…but keep crawling back to you, love.”