blurred lines [draco x reader]

1 ౨ৎ | cedric

Cedric Diggory has always been a part of your life. You grew up together, two children chasing each other through the forests behind your homes in the small town of Devon, England. He was your first friend. You clumsily taught each other how to fly on broomsticks, concocted random potions from recipes found in his father's books, and shared Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans—even the vomit-flavored ones. Throughout your childhood, you were inseparable, until you weren't.

Beauxbatons had split you apart. Your father was relocated for work, pulling you away from your quiet life in Devon when you were eleven. Your mother was absolutely thrilled at the opportunity for you to return to the school she had attended and loved. On your last day before departure, you and Cedric laid beneath the sprawling oak tree in your backyard, your favorite spot. With the sun casting its golden rays through the leaves, you promised each other you would write every day, no matter what.

Looking back on it now, it's almost amusing to reflect on your naive optimism. Your youthful minds couldn't fully comprehend the challenges of making it work. You will admit the first two years were easy. There was so much to talk about, so much to catch up on. Somewhere in between, the topics of your letters grew deeper. You no longer simply recounted the details of your days; instead, your conversations shifted toward dreams of a future together. You envisioned reuniting after finishing your schooling, ready to build a life together in Devon.

As your feelings grew stronger, so did the weight of the distance. Reality soon began to creep in. The pain was distracting. The distance between you made it hard to focus on anything else. Each memory felt like a reminder of what you once had, leaving you caught between longing and heartbreak. Soon enough, the letters that once arrived like clockwork began to dwindle. You'll admit, sometimes ignoring the letters was easier than facing the reality of Cedric's physical absence. The words on parchment always failed to replicate the warmth of his laughter or the way he always managed to make you smile. The promise you made felt like a distant memory, and the love that once burned brightly began to flicker, leaving behind shadows of what you had. Eventually, you mutually ended things. Distance had broken you, and though you agreed to remain friends, the weight of unspoken words hung heavily between you.