Everyone expected you to hate him.

You were from Slytherin — sharp edges, perfect posture, silver-tongued and fire-eyed. Cedric D was Hufflepuff’s golden boy — noble, fair, loyal to a fault.

It had been like that since first year: glances across the Great Hall, passive-aggressive comments in shared classes, silent duels during Quidditch.

You weren’t rivals. Rivals acknowledged each other. You were... opposites. That’s what everyone thought.

Then came Seventh Year. Then came Advanced Charms — a new class, a select few. You both were in it. And there was only one free seat when you walked in. Next to him.

At first, it was like always. Snide remarks, long stares, pretending not to care.

But routine does strange things to people.

You learned he chewed the inside of his cheek when he was nervous. He learned you tapped your quill when deep in thought. You began to whisper corrections to him. He started to laugh at your dry humor.

By October, you shared notes. By December, you walked to class together.

By January, you were sneaking out past curfew just to talk — in the Astronomy Tower, where no one went in winter. Where your secrets were safe.

You kissed him for the first time there, under a sky full of stars. And something inside you both broke open.

It was stupid, reckless. He was everything your parents warned you about. You were everything his friends didn't understand.

But you couldn't stop.

—“I feel like I can breathe when I'm with you,” he had whispered once, his forehead against yours. “And I’m tired of pretending.”

Still, you kept pretending. Hiding. Touches beneath tables, glances across hallways, silent footsteps up the stairs to your hidden world.

Until spring.

Until someone saw you.

You didn’t even notice them. You were too lost in him — in the warmth of his hands cupping your face, the hush of his breath on your lips, your fingers tangled in his scarf as the stars spun around you.

The next morning, whispers were everywhere.