When Dumbledore announced the Triwizard Tournament, at the Halloween Feast during his Fourth Year, Ron was positively giddy.

He was giddy with excitement, with fear, with anticipation. He was sure Cedric would put his name in, even though he'd pretended to be surprised when that idiot MacMillan had mentioned it. Ron even had to pretend to think Cedric was a big, dumb pretty boy when he'd realised Hermione was watching him scowl jealously at MacMillan's admiration of Cedric. Cedric was his, and no stupid Hufflepuff had the right to admire him openly, in public, when Ron had had to hide it all his life.

On the day that the Goblet of Fire stood accepting names of hopefuls, Ron watched Cedric stride up the length of the Hall in front of every last person in the school, and was sure he would swoon on the spot or do something equally idiotic to let every last person know exactly how much he fancied this older student from another House who could rarely be arsed to do more than say hello to him in the corridors.

As Cedric stepped across the Age Line, Ron's heart and breath grew oddly, echoingly loud, as though no one else existed in the vast, crowded room. It was happening more and more, these days, that Cedric being in a room meant that the center of gravity shifted until Ron's entire attention was focussed in one, small place. Ron watched the muscles in Cedric's back and shoulders flex as he walked, even under the layers and folds of his school robes, and was only dimly aware of how obvious it must be that he was practically drooling.

Cedric's gaze skipped past Ron's face as he turned from the Goblet, and Ron briefly let himself believe he would be seen an acknowledged, but then Cedric passed him by on the way back to the Hufflepuff table, and Ron could only stare into his porridge, trying to pretend he didn't see the odd looks Hermione and Harry were exchanging.

And then Harry's name popped out of the Goblet, and Ron decided right then and there that he cared sod-all about what anyone else thought.

The afternoon of the Weighing of the Wands, Ron ran into Cedric in a quiet corridor where he'd taken a stroll to avoid Harry and to avoid thinking about how lonely he was without him. His heart began racing the moment he spotted those shining grey eyes and he was afraid his voice would crack when he opened his mouth to say, "Hi, Cedric."

Cedric looked up, as though surprised to find another person there. Ron's heart raced when Cedric's eyes lit up with friendly recognition. "Ron! Alright there?"

"Alright," Ron managed to utter. "You?"

Cedric shrugged. It was an elegant, fluid motion for which a stubby word like 'shrug' would never suffice. His easy smile lit up the entire corridor.

"My wand checked out, so yeah, I suppose I'm alright."

Ron felt colour creeping into his cheeks. It wasn't his intention for thoughts of Cedric's wand to get him excited, but he couldn't help himself.

"Ready for the First Task, then?" babbled Ron in an attempt to cover his shyness. He was relieved to find that the more he talked, the easier it got to act normally. "Any idea what it'll be?"

Cedric's shoulders did that fluid thing again, and Ron most definitely did not fixate on the way it made Cedric's robes fall a bit aside to expose more of his throat.

"Nah, haven't the slightest," he said without any hint of worry. "Something big, I imagine." He looked at Ron, then, as though really registering his presence for the first time. "You're not worried about your friend Harry? A mystery challenge like this, seems like a lot to ask from a Fourth Year."

Ron bristled a bit, for a variety of reasons. "I'm sure Harry can take care of himself," Ron responded darkly. "He must have known what he was doing, when he put his name in. Anyway, Fourth Years are capable of a lot, you know."

He tried to face Cedric down defiantly, but he only blushed again when he realised the possible interpretations of the words he'd said.

Cedric was silent for a long moment, watching him. His attention was focused, interested and yet detached, like someone watching a scene play out on a stage. Ron swore he could feel his body heat through their layers of clothing, even from a few feet away.

"So you really think he put his own name in?" asked Cedric, his focus sharpening.

Ron's shrug was much jerkier and bonier than Cedric's had been. He had the unsettling sense that Cedric's opinion on the matter was set, and that at the moment he was more curious about what Ron really believed than about what was true.

In the shifting torchlight, Cedric's eyes glinted in a way that was almost challenging. Ron decided it was time to answer the call, or accept defeat indefinitely.

He took a purposeful step forward, placing himself almost nose-to-nose with his longtime idol.

"I know who the real Hogwarts Champion is," he said quietly, miraculously maintaining steady eye-contact with Cedric.

Time stretched out so long that Ron's chest spasmed in its need for air. He couldn't breathe, though. He could only watch for Cedric's reaction.

Slowly, inexorably, Cedric's left eyebrow began to rise. The corner of his mouth followed it, until his bright expression was a pleased sort of smirk.

"Is that so?" he asked.

Ron supposed he would have nodded, or perhaps even spoken, but there was no time to do anything before Cedric's left hand was threaded into the roots of his hair, behind his head, and his right hand was pressed into the small of Ron's back, bringing him close, and Cedric's mouth was where he'd never really believed it would be, kissing him, opening and encouraging and welcoming Ron to take advantage of this fantasy made flesh.

Dual impulses warred within Ron: one was to pay attention to every detail, to remember every moment lest it be the only one like it; the other was to surrender completely, to give into the sensation of Cedric's lips and tongue and fingers, to let himself be washed in the experience and to put aside thoughts of what the future might bring.

Cedric took charge of Ron's decision, backing him up to the nearest wall and pressing the entire length of his body against Ron's so that his heat and every contour of bone and muscle could be felt through layers of clothing. Ron opened his eyes to see Cedric staring intensely down at him. It gave him the chance to see the look of purposeful hunger in Cedric's eyes as he put one hand along Ron's jaw, working his tongue inside Ron's mouth, and simultaneously grabbed one of Ron's hips in the other hand and ground against him. The rough stone wall dug painfully into Ron's head and back, but he moaned and tried to find useful places for his hands, and wriggled frantically against Cedric's body. His groin was pulsing so hard, he probably would have fallen if he hadn't been pinned to the wall. Each movement of Cedric's body against his made him cry out a bit, seeing bright lights at the corner of his vision. He'd never got off before except by touching himself, but he could tell he was getting close from the friction alone, and he needed more.

As soon as he'd thought that, though, Cedric leaned against him more heavily and grew still. His eyes were still fixed on Ron's.

Cedric's throat made a warm, purring sort of chuckling noise. "Brilliant," he breathed, drawing his head back far enough to look in Ron's eyes. "Alright, yeah? A bit of a surprise, but a good one?"

Ron tried to think of something clever to respond, but his groin was aching and his mouth was too dry to speak. He was staring hungrily enough at Cedric's mouth that Cedric must have taken his response to be affirmative.

"I have to get back," said Cedric quietly. "Fancy continuing this later? Say, tomorrow night, in the empty classroom down the Charms corridor? After supper?" He flashed Ron the sunnily genuine smile that had caught Ron's attention in the first place. Something about the situation gave it an additional connotation of naughtiness that Ron found intoxicating.

Multiple responses, ranging from 'yes, please!' to 'why not NOW?!?' surged through Ron's head, but he could only nod slowly.

Cedric smiled sunnily, gave a sexy sort of grunt and kissed Ron soundly once more. "Good," he said. "See you then." And with a wink and a wave, he was gone down the corridor.

Ron fairly collapsed against the wall, panting, trying to will himself calm. He was so aroused, he was almost weeping.

Of course, as soon as Cedric disappeared, Ron's mind went into overdrive, scrambling to make sense of what had just happened and immediately raising the question of whether it could all have been a very vivid daydream. Only the rawness of his lips gave a hint that it could be real.

The next evening, then, he would know for sure. He'd waited most of his fourteen years; he could wait twenty-four hours longer.