Hogwarts in summer was quieter — the corridors slower, the magic softer, the light more golden than usual. The castle breathed in a different rhythm, lulled by warmth and a lack of urgency. But the moment you stepped into the Great Hall for the staff orientation of the summer program, that rhythm fractured.

He was already there.

Cedric.

Older now — his features sharper, his presence more composed. The shadows beneath his eyes had deepened, but he still stood like a golden boy lit from within. You hadn’t seen him since… since he ended it. Not long after surviving the third task. Not long after surviving everything.

You hadn’t blamed him. Not really. Fear changes people, and the Tournament had almost broken him. But it had broken you both, in quieter ways. He’d asked for space. You gave it. Then silence. You respected it. Until the silence became permanent.

And now, here he was. Dressed in plain professor's robes, hands behind his back, gaze steady but unreadable. You sat two seats away from him, because you didn’t know where else to go.

—“Didn’t think I’d see you again,” he said quietly, during the lunch break. No smile. Just observation. That Hufflepuff honesty that once made you fall for him.