#Triwizard

[sailorgoon13]

Hogwarts Champion // Triwizard Tournament (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/story/364699585-hogwarts-champion-triwizard-tournament?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_myworks&wp_uname=athenaknightly13 Seraphina Snow made quite the name for herself in her first year at Hogwarts. While her sixth year was pretty ordinary in comparison, her final year will stand out just as much. Hogwarts has been chosen to host the Triwizard Tournament. Sera doesn't know anything else but winning and wanting to be the best and with the encouragement of her friends she placed her name in the Goblet of Fire. It was no to surprise to most that she was the chosen one, yet again. Although, what did come as a surprise was Professor Weasley having an older friend of hers- Sebastian Sallow, be her confidant, her trainer, and the one helping her prepare for the trials that lay ahead. While they had shared a close relationship during their fifth year they had grown apart with a building resentment and animosity towards one another. How will the challenges of not only the Triwizard Tournament, but within her strained relationship with Sebastian, play out? Will she emerge victorious in more ways than one? **Characters are 18+. Foul language, sexual content, alcohol usage. TW: Blood**

[wilmvandrr]

Over the Summer [HPDM] - A/N (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1386633866-over-the-summer-hpdm-a-n?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=wilmvandrr&wp_originator=CRHlGu9pCT8N2r7VA%2Ba5FrfhdLmidVUS6ZdUA%2BcZKLIrvHZQo9DkhyarYBfviVlrytY1TKEXBV%2BeWYUVO%2B6hwGO%2BtBunsjtxp5%2FbsZJbzrPkikWQR3SmzVaqdYLEUJ3S Fourth year's summer brings more questions than answers to Harry's mind, a rapidly growing obsession with Malfoy quickly takes hold of his mind. Not that he would need his head for all the death traps this year at Hogwarts has in store for him. Of course not. Reboot of an old story

i’m gonna struggle with updates sm but YAYYYYYY finally on the writing scene once more :33

[haileyand-reads]

Mariana Catron and the Semi-Centennial Triwizard Tournament (on Wattpad) 

Mariana, a student of Beauxbaton Academy, travels to Hogwarts with her academy classmates for the newly semi-centennial Triwizard Tournament. With this tournament being the first in fifty years, and the last tournament preceding the Wizarding War, most students are unsure about the tournaments' return. Mariana's time at Hogwarts is one of frustration and unique magical discovery, especially within herself. Not to mention, a certain descendant of the Malfoy family line peaks her interest in the worst of ways. However, all things come to a halt when someone unexpected is chosen from the Goblet of Fire as the Beauxbaton Champion and the competition is fiercer than ever.

[sunseekerlove]

marauders era triwizard tournament is my worst brain rot right now this shit is plaguing my brain and like bro just imagine james is the hogwarts champion and it’s the black lake task where they have to get someone from the bottom and it’s regulus!!! JAMES SAVING REGULUS FROM THE BOTTOM OF THE LAKE??? JAMES SAVING REGULUS FROM DROWNING??? JAMES HELPING REGULUS SWIM TO SHORE???? JUST IMAGINE IT!!!!! i fear i must do this

[overheard-at-hogwarts]

Harry: [dodging the Hungarian Horntail] This would be a cool way to die... Harry: [in the Little Hangleton graveyard] ...This is a much less cool way to die.

[papervenom]

hand-picked

(a cedric diggory one-shot / post-triwizard selection / requested / insatiable universe)

The bell rang out like an exhale. One long, tired breath that shook loose half the castle. Students spilled from classrooms, laughter echoing against the corridors. You walked beside Harry, Ron, and Hermione, half-listening as Ron ranted about History of Magic being “a medieval torture device in disguise,” but your thoughts were elsewhere.

It had been a long week. Cedric had barely been around, not that you blamed him. Being a Triwizard Champion meant constant demands: interviews, professors pulling him aside between classes, even Professor Sprout keeping him busy with advanced greenhouse projects that took up most of his free time. On top of that, he was still keeping up with his coursework— late-night essays, forgotten textbook readings, scribbled notes in margins he barely had time to revisit.

And everywhere he went now, he was followed.

You’d passed him briefly in the courtyard earlier, only to watch a group of third-years flock toward him, shrieking, asking for autographs. Some didn’t even ask, just shoved quills and bits of parchment into his hands like he owed them something.

He smiled through all of it, polite and calm as ever, but you could tell he was tired. You hadn’t gotten a chance to say hi.

You missed him. Not in a needy way, just in the way that happens when someone you care about starts belonging more to the world than to you.

You were just about to reach the Great Hall when a hush rippled through the crowd like a breeze changing direction.

A first-year let out a tiny gasp. A pair of Ravenclaw girls actually squealed. Then someone whispered, “He’s holding flowers again.”

You turned.

Cedric Diggory stood just inside the entrance, cheeks flushed from the wind, sleeves pushed to his elbows, dirt on his hands— and in those hands, he held a bouquet so breathtaking it didn’t look real. Deep violet blooms shimmered like velvet under starlight, threaded with soft silver-white vines that pulsed faintly, as if alive. Sprigs of tiny golden buds spilled out at the edges, glowing just slightly when they caught the torchlight.

He was scanning the room. And when he found you, his whole face lit up.

“Merlin,” someone whispered. “He’s completely gone for her, isn’t he?”

“Yeah,” another girl sighed. “I’d die happy if Cedric Diggory picked me a bouquet like that even once.”

You barely heard any of it. You were rooted to the floor, stomach fluttering.

He crossed the hall in long strides, murmuring apologies as he passed clusters of students too starstruck to move out of his way. When he reached you, he didn’t even say hello right away.

“Sorry I took so long, princess,” he said, a little breathless. “I was… well.”

He held out the bouquet between you like an offering. “I was thinking of you.”

“These are…” you reached out slowly, fingers brushing petals that were warm to the touch. “Are these heartbloom?”

Cedric nodded, eyes shining. “Rare. Sprout usually doesn’t let anyone touch them. But she’s been letting me work with some of the more temperamental hybrids. She lets me take a few things, says it helps me focus. I’ve been sneaking in early to help pollinate them properly.”

Heartbloom. A magical plant rumored to only open for someone with honest intentions. It was said to pulse in time with the heartbeat of the person it was picked for.

You could feel it now, warm against your palm.

“And those?” you asked, pointing to the silver-white vines.

“Ghostvine,” Cedric said. “Doesn’t grow for just anyone. It’s loyal. Once it’s bonded, it won’t wilt. I-I hoped maybe that would be alright.”

You were still staring at the bouquet when he added, quieter now:

“I just wanted to make something… beautiful. For you.”

Your chest squeezed.

You kissed his cheek before you could second-guess it.

He smiled, not smug. Just soft.

Warm.

Entirely yours.

Ron groaned. Hermione beamed. The world went on around you, but Cedric’s hand found your waist and you felt steady again for the first time in days.

“I can’t believe you picked them,” you whispered.

He leaned in, his voice low by your ear. “I’ll keep picking them,” he said, “as long as you let me.”

The ache in your chest, tight and lonely all day, finally eased. Not gone, but full now. Full of something gentle. Steady. Chosen.

And as you curled your fingers into the folds of his robes, you let yourself breathe him in, cedar and fresh soil and the faint perfume of something rare and blooming, still clinging to his hands. You closed your eyes. You would remember this.

Forever.

♱ 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 ♱

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[the-colourful-witch]

🦋🌷Fleur Delacour🌷🦋

Can we just take a moment to appreciate Fleur? She is unapologetic, confident and knows what she wants. Talk about a powerful woman⭐️ I like that she doesn’t feel the need to be nice to everyone, or smile at everyone. She doesn’t have the patience for it. She’s smart and resourceful. She did get chosen to be a Triwizard champion, after all!

I never liked that the women in book 6/7 were so annoyed with Fleur when she stayed at the Burrow. It was a misogynistic piece of writing and I do not agree with it, nor do I tolerate it 😤

So, here’s to celebrating Fleur Delacour✨🌈🌷

[mentally-in-northern-italy]

a lover’s ruse — c.d. [1]

Summary: Your agonizing courtship and Cedric’s need to spite his ex are both ailments that have a very simple cure: a fake relationship, obviously.

⤷ [1] - in which prefect patrols end with a haphazard agreement being reached.

Requested: read the request here

Pairing: Cedric Diggory x fem!gryffindor!reader

Word Count: 3.9K

A/N: I'm so sorry guys. This has been such a long time coming, I'm not sure people are even waiting for this anymore. But this is the first part and I'm thinking of turning it into a full-fledged series. Second part of the fic WILL be out as soon as I'm done exams.

—

The first few dates were bearable enough  — if you squinted hard and counted the silence as a virtue. 

The next few were nothing short of painstakingly harrowing. And that’s being kind.

This one, however? It made you seriously contemplate lunging over the walls of the Astronomy Tower and meeting Death, himself, halfway. Little else could offer greater reprieve, in your mind, from this. 

The setting should’ve been romantic, in theory. The night was still, but not stiflingly so, and the moonlight danced around the top of the Tower teasingly, doing little to illuminate the dark. If he stepped into a crevice where the light didn’t reach his face and you tuned him out just enough, you might even call the view beautiful. But, you soon found out – only a few dates in – no view could be described as such when you have Trevor Selwyn standing next to you.

Trevor Selwyn should’ve been a perfect match, in theory. An avid member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight –  there was little else that could prove more pertinent to families, like yours, with snobby ideals of purity and the measures necessary to maintain it, generation after generation – a Slytherin, an athlete (he doesn’t like mentioning that he’s a substitute player, on his best days), and a prefect. And, as you soon found out – only one date in – he’s also an utter and complete idiot.

So, you should’ve said no, in theory. Kicked and flailed your arms like a petulant child, screamed and wailed and protested when your parents proposed a courtship between the two of you. You should’ve told Trevor himself that he possessed the tact of a Cornish Pixie and the wit of the dimmest of trolls. But, as you soon found out (after the wailing episode) – absolutely zero dates in – Trevor is nothing but persistent and your parents anything but unwavering in their resolve. 

“I’ve met the Minister once,” he remarks out of nowhere as he looks off, off of the edge of the tower with all the regality of an acclaimed emperor. 

You hum in response. You haven’t said a word all night and he hasn’t noticed a thing.

“Granted, I was only two but I recall the Minister telling my father –”

“I think I should head back, actually,” you interrupt before the anecdote can truly begin. There are a few things you’ve learned about Trevor so far but none of them are as glaringly consequential as this: if he starts talking about his father, he won’t be able to stop. Escapades from Uagadou, his adventures in Egypt warding off curses and serpents and the magical scrolls of Machu Picchu –

“Oh,” he furrows his brow as if deep in thought and you almost laugh. That boy has never had a thought in his life. 

“I don’t want to be late for prefect patrols is all,” a faux sweet lilt to your voice doesn’t do much to subdue the frown on his face. 

He nods curtly. “I’ll walk you back.”

Your refusal is automatic. “I think I’ll mana–”

“It’s no problem,” he starts walking towards the stairs and you’re left with no choice but to follow.

On any other occasion, the walk would’ve taken mere minutes. The hallways would’ve been something theatrical, a soft fusion of candlelight and the streaming moonlight at this time of night. With Selwyn by your side, however, the minutes seemed like hours, and the candlelit corridors, usually golden and warm, felt like the dull glow of a waiting room. Your shoulders ached from how stiffly you held herself as each step echoed louder than the last, as if the castle itself was sighing in disappointment and disdain.

“I had an enjoyable time tonight,” Trevor started when you finally reached and you tried your utter best to hide the discomfort when his clammy hand reached for yours. He brought it to his lips and pressed a single kiss on it before you gave him a tight-lipped smile. You expect him to then turn and go, to walk back down to his own common room but he stays standing there, his face blank. 

“Me too,” you smile, in hopes that this was the confirmation he was after. Another lesson you’ve learned about the boy has been this: nothing else pleases him as much as validation does. 

He gives some semblance of a smile back. You blink. The next thing you know he has started to lean in and his eyes are fluttering shut and his slightly puckered lips are mere inches from yours now and the ridiculousness of it all proves too much to bear – you guffaw in the most obnoxious way possible. A mixture of anger and hurt crosses his face before he retreats and you’re unsure of how to recover.

“I’m so sorry,” you cover your mouth and try to stop the laughter. “I– I just thought of a funny joke. I’m so–”

“Fix your hair, would you? It looked atrocious today,” he quips quickly to gain control of the situation back. The last thing you’ve learned about the enigma that Selwyn is is this: his superiority cannot be challenged. If it is, he will try to establish it again – by insulting you in the most seemingly hurtful manner. 

It doesn’t quite have the desired effect. You snort at his attempt and suddenly the laughter has returned. He exhales once out of his nose as he turns to go but not before calling out, “I will pick you up at the same time tomorrow night. Don’t be late.” 

The laughter dwindles at the thought of enduring this again. “I’m busy tomorrow!” 

“Don’t be late,” he calls again. 

“Charming,” you hear someone call from behind you and you can tell who it is without having to turn and look at his annoyingly perfect face. His clever quips usually carry the extraordinary ability to irk you to no end but after the night you’ve had, they seem especially akin to knives on a chalkboard. 

You can picture Cedric Diggory’s earnest yet irritating smile he seems to wear at all times, the kind that makes his honey-coloured eyes crinkle in the slightest way at the edges with no difficulty. You can picture his perfectly ironed robes, clad with pins and awards he has won over the years and his hair that falls in place like dominoes. There’s only ever one way to describe him: pristine. Always. 

Though you’d never cared much to exalt him to the status of an academic rival, it’d be foolish to call him anything else. He had a way about him that reeked of complete and utter competence at everything, which indubitably invited a certain degree of resentment from everyone. You were no exception.

And not only did the universe seem keen on making an already-horrible night worse by scheduling him as your prefect patrols partner tonight, it also seemed quite keen on wanting to humiliate you in front of him. 

“The gossip that you are, Diggory,” you huff with biting sarcasm as you finally turn to face him. “Using your patrols as a way to spy on unsuspecting young lovers. Classy.” The break of his grin is almost blinding and you have to avert your gaze to avoid damage to your visual field.

“Nothing else entertains me these days as much as your courtship, I’m afraid,” he jests, slipping an easy hand into his pocket. “If you need more time together, I understand. I’m perfectly capable of completing the patrols on my own tonight.”

With your face aflame, you shoot him a look and begrudgingly start walking beside him, arms crossed tightly over your chest like a shield and footsteps hitting stone a bit too sharply. 

“How kind of you.” You say curtly and make it a point to walk a few steps ahead of him. He doesn’t seem particularly perturbed by it: he follows a few steps behind you, but the smugness radiating off of him envelops you nonetheless. 

“You can laugh, you know,” you say again after a moment of silence. You have long-since learned that the best way to avoid embarrassment is to submit to it. You’ve been courting Selwyn long enough to know it – sheepish smiles exchanged with classmates when he pecks you on the cheek in the hallways, mortified but apologetic grimaces whenever he tries to clasp your hand in his as he walks you to your common room after supper. Judgment – if it must be served – is best served plainly. Overtly. 

He shakes his head in amusement as he finally catches up and walks in step with you. “Now, why would I laugh? That was the most romantic thing I’ve ever seen.” 

“That was humiliating,” you mutter under your breath before you can stop yourself. 

Cedric’s amused smile wavers as he glances at you with something you hope isn’t sympathy. And as much as you hate to say it, it wouldn’t be something you would put above him – for all the determined rebuttals and rivalries in class, Cedric has only ever been infuriatingly kind. “I think Selwyn might be a tad bit more humiliated than you, [Y/L/N].”

“Good. If he ever tries to kiss me again, I might hex him into oblivion and end up as a headline in the Daily Prophet.” 

His amusement returns and you’re glad. You’re not sure how to interact with him beyond the usual teasing remarks. “Would it be in bad taste to say that I'd quite want to see that?” His smile only grows when you roll your eyes. “Will you be doing that tomorrow night then? Shall I call the reporters?” 

You make a face. “You won’t be grinning that wide when I send a dementor after you from Azkaban, Diggory.”

“Send one after Selwyn. He’s in need of a good kiss.”

Your lips twitch at the joke and Cedric notices the slight movement. You press them together before a full-fledged smile can appear on your face and Cedric revels in it. “You’re not funny.”

“Yes, I’m sure Selwyn’s funnier,” Cedric teases. 

“Still not funny.” You take a few quicker steps to walk in front of him again, having had enough of his teasing for the night. 

He catches up again and has no particular difficulties keeping up, no matter how much you try to hasten your steps. “Forgive me for prying –”

“I won’t.”

“But, why Selwyn?” The question’s sincerity catches you off-guard.

“What?”

“I just mean – I find it hard to believe that you’re… devoid of options. So…why him?” He picks his words carefully, as if he’s weighing them in his mouth before letting them fall out. And perhaps it was due to the late hour or the undeniable warmth that Cedric’s eyes perpetually hold, but you actually considered giving him a sincere answer. 

“He’s–” you pause as you vow to yourself this would be the last display of vulnerability Cedric would be getting from you tonight. Your voice drops despite yourself, and you find your fingers fiddling with the edge of your sleeve. Something about Cedric’s quiet attention makes the truth feel heavier than usual. “He’s my parents’ choice. They want me to graduate with a prospect secured.”

His eyebrows wrinkle in confusion. “If a courtship is what you’re after, I’m sure you’d find better prospects in – pardon my bluntness – anyone else.” His teasing cadence has dropped altogether now and you wrinkle your own eyebrows in confusion as you consider the notion that Cedric might actually be trying to help you. 

“It doesn’t matter who–” you pause again. “I don’t plan on marrying him, Cedric.”

Cedric frowns. 

You go on, “I’m only ‘courting’ him until graduation to subdue my parents. I won’t marry him so it doesn’t matter who it is.” You squirm in guilt as Cedric stays frowning. “And I realize it’s cruel to string him along – I do – I just – I don’t know what else to do.” 

Cedric nods after a while – a slow, courteous nod that indicates he understands but wholly disagrees with whatever you’re saying. It’s a nod you’ve seen from him when he proposes a rebuttal to whatever alternate answer you’ve proposed in class, an alternate solution to a problem and admittedly, a much more pragmatic one.  He opens his mouth to voice it before the sound of giggles fill the empty hallways from around the corner.

You both exchange a prefectly look with each other, acknowledging the obvious student out of bed, awaiting a scolding for being out past curfew. Before you two can approach to see who it is, they turn the corner themselves.

“Evelyn,” Cedric breathes out in surprise as your gaze lands on the familiar brunette-haired girl in your year, her hands firmly clasped in Damien Avery’s, matching love-sick grins plastered on both faces and lipstick stains on the latter’s neck. With their hair dishevelled and robes askew, they blink in stunned silence.

You purse your lips as you look between the two, realization cresting at once. Though Cedric’s dating life was never a particular topic of interest, you immediately recognized the girl as his girlfriend, Evelyn Waters. 

Well, ex-girlfriend as of two weeks ago. 

“Ced,” his name falls from her smudged, lipstick-stained mouth softly, her eyes widening slightly. She hastily straightens out her robe and runs a hand through her hair. “I–”

Cedric clears his throat awkwardly as he shoots Avery a lingering glare. “It’s an hour past curfew–” He manages to get out, his voice unbelievably even. He keeps his eyes on Avery, not sparing Evelyn another glance. 

“I’m a prefect, Diggory. I think we’re fine,” Avery dismisses, stepping around him. He tugs at Evelyn’s hand.

Cedric steps in front of him again, towering over the shorter boy with ease. “Forty points from Slytherin,” he says simply, his eyes uncharacteristically stoic.

Avery scoffs and looks at Cedric in disbelief. “Yeah?” He sneers. “Are you going to take another forty for theft?” 

Cedric exhales heavily through his nose at the implication. The night air has suddenly chilled and the tension is so thick, it makes it hard to breathe.

“You know… considering…everything.” Avery smirks, gesturing subtly to Evelyn’s hand he still has clasped within his own. Evelyn watches the exchange silently.

“Considering everything, Avery,” you finally find your voice in the uncomfortable silence and step forward. “I’ll be taking another hundred points away from Slytherin for your misuse of prefect privileges. Expect to hear from Professor Snape tomorrow when I formally file a complaint.”

Avery turns to you, his goblin-green eyes staring into yours for a minute before he narrows them. “This isn’t your fight, [Y/L/N]. Stay out of it.”

“I think you,” you jab a hard finger at his chest, pushing him away slightly, “should stay out of the hallways after curfew. Now, if you’ll excuse us.” You grab Cedric’s arm and tear him away from the pair. 

He doesn’t protest when you begin to lead him down a random set of stairs to get away from the scene of the stiff confrontation. Cedric walks a few steps behind you wordlessly as you chance periodic glances to make sure he’s still following. After a few moments, you slow your gait so he can catch up with you.

“Hey,” you jostle him out of his thoughts which seemed to have permanently etched a furrow in his brows as he shuffled his feet across the stone floor.

He sighs, running a quick hand over his face and then stuffing it back into his pocket. “You didn’t have to enjoy that quite so much.”

You frown. “Enjoy what?”

“Do you not normally enjoy my humiliation?” He asks with a teasing lilt in his voice, but the humour stops short of his eyes. You can tell his mind is still stuck elsewhere, replaying that scene over and over. 

“I’m not a sadist like you,” you quip. 

He offers you a quick smile as if to confirm receipt of your well-intentioned humour, but doesn’t say much else. You walk in uneasy silence once again. 

“She’s an idiot,” you say finally. “Just– for the record.”

“Hm.” He smiles wryly again but his eyes hold a heaviness that you don’t like. You can tell the breakup took a greater toll on him than he has let on the past few weeks. And you’re not exactly sure why that weighs down on your heart.

“Seriously, Diggory,” you sigh. “She’s an idiot for breaking up with you and she’s an idiot for getting with Avery.”

He exhales a quiet laugh. “Yeah.” 

The heaviness still hung in the air despite your attempts at trying to provide Cedric an outlet to let out his frustration. You scoff internally at his staunch unwillingness to talk ill of anyone – not even his ex-girlfriend who moved on from him in a blink of an eye. You think again of Cedric’s genuine interest in your ‘Selwynian’ plight. You sigh once before shaking your head. Were you really about to help Cedric Diggory?

“You know what? You need to stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Acting like it doesn’t bother you,” you hit him lightly on the arm. “It bothers you, right?”

He holds your gaze for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. Suppose it does.” He admits quietly.

“Do you want her back?” 

He frowns at the question. “What–”

“Do you?”

“Yes,” he breathes out after a while and looks away, as if embarrassed at the confession. You can tell he’s fidgeting with his pockets nervously. 

“Then, make her jealous,” you say. “I saw how she was looking at you. She knows she made a mistake. But she won’t admit it because that’s not how it works. Make her jealous and she’ll have to admit it. It’ll get it out of her.”

He looks at you in amusement. “I can’t tell if you’re trying to help me or sabotage me.”

You scoff. “Accept the generosity before I change my mind.”

He shakes his head with a bitter smile, clicking his tongue against his teeth quietly. “That won’t work, anyway.”

“It will,” you assert. “Trust me, Diggory. It will.” 

He shakes his head again. “I don’t even know how to–”

“Date someone else,” you supply easily.

“I don’t like anyone else.”

You shoot him an unimpressed look. “No shit. We already established that you still like Evelyn.”

“So, I ask out a girl I’m not actually interested in?” He asks in disbelief, discomfort evident on his face. 

“Yeah,” you shrug. 

He frowns and pauses, glancing at you with confusion. “That’s cruel beyond belief, [Y/L/N].”

His admonition makes you pause, too. The familiarity of the proposal strikes you at once. It was exactly what you were doing – stringing along a clueless Selwyn until graduation and then breaking his heart without a second thought. The cruelty of it all had always been a nagging thought – but its noise had been distant and dull. It was now ringing in your ears however, your skewed perception of morality hitting you at once.

“It’s not– cruel.” You try to tell yourself, more than him. “It–”

“It’s heartless,” he says again, matter-of-factly. “This, and what you’re doing to Selwyn, by the way.” 

You sigh at his moral policing. You knew he was right, but Selwyn was a problem for another night. 

“Fine,” you relent. “How about a girl who agrees to be your fake girlfriend?” 

He scoffs lightly. “If that were so easy to find, wouldn’t you have gotten a fake boyfriend already?”

You both stop walking at the same time, your footsteps coming to a screeching halt simultaneously. It was almost as if Cedric’s words had materialized and turned into physical roadblocks. His gaze slowly turns to you, honey-brown eyes landing on yours, but you’re already watching him in stunned realization. 

“[Y/L/N] –” he begins thoughtfully.

“No. No. Absolutely not.” That look in his eyes — the one like he’s already decided. Like he’s already seen this through to the end. It makes you nervous in a way you can’t name. You start walking ahead of him rather quickly but he catches up to you with no difficulty once again. His long strides match your pace perfectly.

“This was your idea–” He tries to reason again, the sound of hurried footsteps echoing off the walls as he chases after you with a walking stride.

“My idea– was not for us to do that–” you huff out as you keep up the pace, unrelenting.

He finally catches up to you and reaches for your arm, his hand closing gently around your elbow. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt through you, halting your steps more effectively than his words ever could. “It makes sense.”

You blink, momentarily thrown. “No–” 

“You won’t have to be needlessly cruel just to keep a prospect around–”

“Cedric.”

“And I won’t have to heartlessly pretend to like a girl who doesn’t know I’m pretending,” his hands find your shoulders. “It makes sense. You know it does.”

“I won’t–”

“And no more nightly dates with Selwyn,” he interrupts. “No more dodging his kisses.” 

That finally shuts you up. You shake your head though you can’t find the words to protest anymore. Cedric decides to sweeten the deal further.

“No life sentence in Azkaban, either.”

“Shut up.”

His lips tug upwards slightly and your eyes can’t help but catch on the movement. You let your eyes roam over his face — annoyingly symmetrical, irritatingly warm — and suddenly it hits you how easy it would be to fall into this lie. How dangerously tempting it is to pretend.

“No one would even believe it,” you say weakly. “We hate each other.”

“You mean you hate me?” He smiles dryly. “Because I don’t recall ever hating you.”

You avert your eyes before you start tracing his smile lines again with your gaze. “I just mean– we’re always at each other’s throats.” 

“That makes it more believable, don’t you think?” 

You shake your head, closing your eyes. “It’s a bad idea–”

You don’t get to finish your sentence before a familiar owl flies overhead and perches itself on the ledge next to you, clutching a letter. It doesn��t take long for you to realize who it’s from – the intricate green envelope and Selwyn family crest catching your eye immediately.

Cedric raises an eyebrow as he holds back a smirk. You grumble under your breath before plucking the letter from the owl begrudgingly. 

“Aren’t you going to open it?” He questions as he stifles a smile.

“No,” you huff in annoyance. “He … sends these every night. A ‘goodnight poem’, he calls them.”

Cedric doesn’t say anything, his grin already revealing he knows what your next words will be. 

You glance at the letter again — Selwyn’s cursive looping like a snake about to bite. What were you even doing?

You sigh, knowing exactly what this meant. “Fine. Let’s do it.” You cast the ignition spell, watching the green wax seal curl into smoke. “Let’s date.”

He blinks. “Wait — really?”

 “Don’t make me change my mind.”

 His grin returns, slow and lopsided. “Pretend to date,” he corrects.

“What?”

“We’re pretending,” he says cheekily, your cheeks aflame at his teasing cadence. "Don’t fall in love with me, [Y/L/N].”  

With a determined roll of your eyes, you turn on your heel. “As if, Diggory.”

Second part coming soon!

[jijournal]

A PROMISE KEPT | C.D

Summary: Before the Triwizard Tournament, Cedric makes you promise that, no matter what happens, you won’t cry over him. After his death, you struggle to keep that promise—until you find the letter he left behind.

Word Count: 2.3k+

Warnings: Cedric Diggory x Reader, no use of Y/N, heavy/slight angst (depends on the reader), mentions of death

A/N: Hope you guys love this!! 🫰

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

The moment Cedric Diggory’s name was called for the Triwizard Tournament, something inside you twisted into a tight knot.

It should have been a moment of pride—Hufflepuff’s golden boy, Hogwarts’ brightest star, standing at the center of the Great Hall as his house erupted in cheers. Students clapped him on the back, chanting his name, their admiration echoing off the high stone walls. Even some Gryffindors, Slytherins, and Ravenclaws couldn’t help but smile.

You sat frozen, hands clenched into fists beneath the table.

A part of you knew Cedric was capable—more than capable. He was smart, strong, and level-headed. But this wasn’t just a game. This was life or death.

Students speculated wildly in the Great Hall, voices overlapping in a chaotic mix of excitement and nerves. You, however, couldn’t bring yourself to join in.

Instead, you sat on the cool grass by the Black Lake, arms wrapped around your knees, staring at the way the moonlight shimmered across the water’s surface. The crisp autumn air nipped at your skin, but you barely felt it. Your mind was too busy racing.

Footsteps approached, familiar and steady. “You always sit here when you’re overthinking.”

You let out a quiet huff, not looking away from the lake. “I’m not overthinking.”

A low chuckle. “Right. And I’m a Slytherin.”

This time, you glanced at him. Cedric Diggory, in all his effortless charm, stood there with his hands tucked into his cloak, the wind ruffling his honey-brown hair. His smile was soft, but his eyes—his beautiful grey eyes—were watching you closely, as if reading your every thought.

He lowered himself onto the grass beside you, stretching his long legs out.

“Are you nervous?” you asked, voice quieter than you intended.

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “A bit. But I know I don't need to. I got picked for a reason didn't I?” He said smirking at you.

You studied him carefully, watching the way his lips form a smile. But behind his confidence, he toyed with the hem of his sleeve—his telltale sign of nervousness.

“You’ll be brilliant,” you said softly. Then, unable to stop yourself, you added, “But if you die, I swear I’m following you in the afterlife.”

Cedric let out a warm, full-bodied laugh, the kind that sent warmth straight to your heart. “Noted. No dying... Just because I don't want you to follow me to death."

The words came so easily between you, like they always did. But as you sat there under the stars, the easy banter felt different tonight. He felt different tonight.

You wanted to say something—wanted to tell him that you didn’t just care, that you loved him.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you just whispered, “Be careful.”

He turned his head, studying you with an intensity that made your breath hitch. His gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips and back, as if he wanted to say something, too.

But just like you, he didn’t.

Instead, he smiled. “I promise.”

⸻

The First Task

Your heart pounded painfully as Cedric stepped onto the rocky arena, facing the enormous Swedish Short-Snout dragon.

You gripped the edge of your seat in the stands, barely aware of the deafening cheers around you.

He looked calm. Too calm. But you knew him. You knew he was nervous—he just wouldn’t let anyone see it.

The dragon roared, heat blasting across the field.

And then—it attacked.

A fireball the size of a small carriage exploded toward Cedric.

Your breath caught.

At the very last second, he rolled out of the way, landing smoothly on his feet.

A murmur of awe rippled through the crowd.

Your nails dug into your palm as he raised his wand, casting a Transfiguration spell on a nearby boulder. It shimmered and shifted—into a massive Labrador.

The illusion sprinted forward, barking excitedly.

The dragon whipped its head around, confused for a split second. And in that moment, Cedric ran.

You held your breath.

He dodged another blast of fire—so close, too close—before lunging for the golden egg.

His fingers closed around it.

A heartbeat later, the dragon turned back and swung its massive tail.

“Cedric, move!” you gasped.

At the last moment, he threw himself out of the way, landing hard against the ground—but still gripping the egg.

The whistle blew.

The crowd erupted.

You barely heard any of it as you shoved past students, racing toward the tent where Cedric was being treated.

When you burst inside, he was sitting on the cot, his shirt slightly singed, his cheek streaked with dirt.

“Are you insane?!” you half-yelled, half-gasped, dropping to your knees in front of him.

He grinned, exhausted but pleased. “You were worried.”

You glared at him, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead without thinking.

“I hate you,” you muttered.

His eyes softened, the usual mischief replaced with something deeper. Something… real.

“No, you don’t,” he murmured.

And Merlin, he was right.

⸻

The Second Task

Cold.

Heavy.

Something was wrong.

You woke up surrounded by blue light, water pressing against your skin, your body weightless.

Your hands were bound by seaweed-like ropes, and panic seized your chest.

Then, shadows approached.

Four figures, swimming toward you.

And then you saw him.

Cedric.

His expression—relief, determination, something almost desperate—made your stomach twist.

He was coming for you.

His hands found yours, fingers fumbling to free you from the ropes.

Something tight and painful lodged in your throat.

Out of all the people in his life—his friends, his parents—you were the person he had to save.

Did that mean…?

No. You couldn’t let yourself believe it.

As soon as the ropes snapped, you felt your body go weightless, floating toward him.

His arm wrapped firmly around your waist as he pulled you to the surface.

The second your head broke through the water, you coughed, gulping in precious air.

“Are you okay?” His voice was hoarse, breathless.

You blinked up at him, the sunlight making the droplets on his skin glisten. “Cedric, you—”

“I’ve got you,” he promised. “I’ve always got you.”

Something inside you crumbled.

And for the first time, you let yourself hope that maybe—just maybe—he felt the same way.

⸻

The night before the final task, you found Cedric on the castle steps, the weight of the tournament evident in his eyes.

Without a word, you sat beside him.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” he admitted.

You swallowed, heart aching. “Then don’t go.”

He smiled sadly. “You know I can’t do that.

A pause.

“You’re scared,” he said before you could speak, his voice as calm as ever.

You crossed your arms and exhaled sharply. “Of course I am.”

Then—his hand found yours.

He finally looked at you, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “I’ll be fine.”

You frowned. “You don’t know that.”

His easygoing expression faltered, just for a second. “I have to believe I will be,” he admitted. “Otherwise, I’ll never stand a chance.”

You sighed, sitting down beside him. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I will.”

You hesitated before adding, “And promise me you won’t do anything reckless.”

He smirked. “Have you met me?”

You shot him a glare, but he only laughed, nudging your shoulder. “Alright, alright. I promise.”

The weight in your chest lessened—but not completely. Something still lingered, gnawing at the edges of your mind, whispering that things would never be the same.

That’s when Cedric’s expression turned serious. “Promise me something, too?”

You met his gaze. “What?”

“No matter what happens, you won’t cry over me.”

Your breath caught.

“Cedric, why would you—?"

“Just promise me.”

He was still smiling, but there was something behind his eyes, something heavy—as if he knew a secret neither of you could say aloud.

You wanted to tell him that you couldn’t make that promise, that the thought of losing him was unbearable.

But the way he looked at you—pleading, trusting—made your heart ache.

So you squeezed his hand and forced a small, fragile smile.

“I promise.”

And it was the biggest lie you’d ever told.

⸻

The moment Harry Potter reappeared with Cedric’s lifeless body, the world shattered.

Screams rang through the air, piercing and raw. Some people gasped, others staggered back in shock. Dumbledore moved toward them, his usual composure shaken. But none of it felt real.

Your knees buckled beneath you.

It couldn’t be true.

It couldn’t be.

Cedric had promised. He had promised.

You barely heard Harry’s choked sobs as he clutched Cedric’s body, screaming for someone to help him. Your vision blurred as you shoved past students, past the horrified professors, until you were there—kneeling beside him.

He looked peaceful, just like he had that night under the stars. Like he was merely sleeping, like he’d wake up any second and tease you for being so worried.

Your hands trembled as you reached for his, fingers wrapping around his cooling skin.

“Cedric,” you whispered, shaking him gently. “Wake up. Please, wake up.”

Nothing.

And suddenly, a memory surfaced—a promise from years ago.

⸻

It was the summer before fourth year, and you and Cedric were lying in the grass, watching the dark sky, stars blinking on top.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” he had asked, his voice light, teasing.

You snorted. “What, like love at first sight?”

“No, not that.” He turned his head to look at you, his grey eyes soft. “I mean… two people meant to find each other, no matter what. The kind of people who just—fit.”

Something about the way he said it made your heart skip a beat. You glanced away, focusing on the sky instead.

“I don’t know,” you murmured. “Maybe.”

A beat of silence. Then—

“If we ever get separated,” Cedric said suddenly, “we’ll find each other again. No matter what.”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him with your elbow. “That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

He only smiled. “I mean it.”

And there, under the endless black sky as the stars watched, you pinky promised.

A silent vow that no matter what happened, you’d always come back to each other.

⸻

But now—now he was gone.

You choked back a sob, hands tightening around his.

“Cedric,” you whispered brokenly. “You promised.”

The words were empty. Hollow.

You had promised, too.

But promises meant nothing when death took them away.

And yet—above you, the stars shone.

The same way they had the night before, when he had held your hand and told you he’d be fine. The same way they always did, whenever he pointed them out to you and said, “They’ll always be there, no matter what.”

Tears burned behind your eyes, hot and insistent.

But then, his voice echoed in your mind.

No matter what happens, you won’t cry over me.

You clenched your jaw so tightly it hurt.

You had promised.

So you swallowed back the sob clawing at your throat and blinked away the tears.

But deep inside, you knew—this was the one promise you would never be able to keep.

⸻

Days blurred together.

People mourned. The castle was silent, heavy with grief. Cedric’s seat in the Great Hall remained empty, a cruel reminder of what had been lost.

You wandered through the days in a haze, floating through classes, avoiding the places where you used to meet him. Nights were the worst—alone with your thoughts, with the crushing weight of everything unsaid.

Then, one evening, a small package appeared at the foot of your bed.

No sender. Just a plain envelope, sealed with Hufflepuff-yellow wax.

Your stomach twisted as you slowly peeled it open, revealing a single folded letter in Cedric’s unmistakable handwriting.

⸻

Love,

If you’re reading this… then I didn’t make it.

I don’t want you to cry. I know you will anyway, because I know you, but please—don’t let this ruin you. Don’t let this be the thing that takes away your smile, your laugh, the way you light up when you talk about the things you love.

If I’m gone, then that means I won’t be there to remind you, so I need you to promise me something: keep living.

I mean it. Keep looking at the stars, the way you always do when you can’t sleep. Keep sneaking into the kitchens for late-night snacks, because I know you do that even though you pretend you don’t. Keep sitting by the Black Lake, even though I won’t be there to annoy you anymore. Keep being the person who made my days brighter, who made me laugh when I needed it most.

Most of all—keep being happy. Even without me.

I know you, and I know you’re blaming yourself. Don’t. Please.

You are the best part of my life.

I wish I had told you that sooner.

I wish I had told you a lot of things.

Like how I always looked for you in a crowd, even when I wasn’t supposed to. How I noticed the way your nose scrunches when you’re concentrating, or how your hands shake when you’re nervous, or how you always hum under your breath when you think no one’s listening.

And how I think—no, I know—that I love you.

I don’t know if you ever felt the same. I don’t know if you’ll ever forgive me for leaving like this. But if there’s one thing I want you to remember, it’s this:

I wouldn’t trade a second of my time with you. Not for anything.

So live for me, okay? Love for me. Promise me that.

And if you ever miss me—if you ever wonder if I’m still with you—just look at the stars.

I’ll be there.

⸻

You clutched the letter to your chest. The tears that have been building up silently slipped down your cheeks.

You hadn’t kept your promise. But maybe, just maybe… you could keep this one.

For Cedric.

For both of you.

And for the first time since he left—since that horrible, earth-shattering moment—you tilted your head back and looked at the sky. The stars were shining.

And for the first time, you let yourself believe that he was still there.

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

masterlist!

[yourlocalbadgerscales]

Shut UPPP I just had THE BEST idea for a drarry fanfic!!!!!!!!

Okay SO we all know how in OOTP, Lucius Malfoy fails to get his hands on the prophecy Voldemort wants, and therefore fails to serve his master. Voldemort is furious, and this leads to him giving Draco the task to kill Dumbledore in HPB, as a punishment for the Malfoy family.

But what if Voldemort had enough of Lucius much earlier on in the series?? We know that Lucius actually failed him in COS, book two, when he let part of Voldemort’s soul be destroyed. What if Voldemort had taken out his rage on the Malfoy family as early on as book four, GOF?

What if Voldemort decided that the best way to punish the Malfoy family was to make sure Draco was chosen as Hogwarts’ contestant in the Triwizard Tournament? Alongside Harry, of course, since Harry was needed for Voldemort’s plan. Draco’s task would be to make sure Harry made it through the tournament, to discreetly make Harry win it and also make sure to grab the cup with him, so that he too could be transported with the Port-Key to the grave yard. There, Draco was meant to stand alongside his father and watch as Voldemort returned, tortured and killed Harry. Only then would Voldemort trust the Malfoys’ loyalty again.

So Draco goes to Hogwarts for his third year. He tries to believe that he’s proud to have been chosen, deep down, but actually he’s terrified.

Barty Crouch Jr. puts Draco’s AND Harry’s name in the goblet. They both get chosen for the Tournament, Draco instead of Cedric. Harry is 100% sure Draco’s responsible for their names ending up there. Draco assured him that he isn’t. They slowly become friends as the tournament carries on, and Draco finds himself actually enjoying Harry’s company more than he should.

Imagine how the first task with the dragons would be. The second one, in the lake! THE PREFECTS’ BATHROOM! THE FUCKING MAZE AND THE GRAVEYARD AND AND

Holy shit I need to write this I NEED TO WROTE THIS BUT I DONT HAVE W THE TIMEEEUGHHH

Edit: I am currently writing it.

[7s3ven]

CINDY LOU WHO. cedric diggory

( master list )

IN WHICH… Y/N L/N helps her crush and longtime best friend, Cedric Diggory, get with another girl. Deep down, she knows she’ll never be the bright and bubbly girl Cedric wants. She’ll always be the cunning snake with a knack for starting fights.

“Cindy Lou is bright, bubbly, and extraordinary… she’s everything I’m not.”

A/N: I do take requests so feel free to ask for one :). I mainly write for Maze Runner, Harry Potter, PJO, and Hunger Games

Guess you make him happy like I couldn't do. Cindy Lou Who. With your hair so long, lips so red. Maybe we met once, I forget

Scrolling five years back, I'm obsessed. Breaking my heart, 'tis the season, I guess. The snow's gonna fall and the tree's gonna glisten. And I'm gonna puke at the thought of you kissin'

“The boy who I love who's now in love with you. Cindy Lou Who.”

Y/N sighed as she impatiently checked her watch and tapped her foot against the stone floor. It was almost curfew and Cedric was still a no show. The rules were less strict now that school was done, but Y/N had a reputation to live up to. It was the least she could do with all the trouble she had caused this year.

“Y/N.” Cedric jogged towards her, looking out of breath. She arched an eyebrow and her gaze scanned his untidy uniform.

“… Do I even want to ask?” She questioned.

“Ah.” Cedric sheepishly smiled, “My friends and I were playing hide and seek. It was a pretty intense game.” Even during his senior years, Cedric was still the bright-eyed kid Y/N had grown up with.

“Right. Well, why did you want to see me? You know how I don’t like going out before curfew.” Y/N folded her arms over her chest, “Plus, you’re late.” She quickly added.

“I know. I’m sorry about that. I just had to grab this.” Cedric pulled out a black box, smiling. He carefully opened it, showing the necklace to Y/N. “Do you recognize the crystal?” He questioned, making Y/N scoff.

“Of course I do. It’s my birth month crystal. (Insert crystal).”

Cedric grinned. “You still know so much more about gems than me. You should’ve been put in Ravenclaw.”

“Oh, please. If I was put there, I would be sleeping in the hallways. I can’t figure out riddles.”

Cedric playfully nudged her with his elbow. “Don’t say that. You’re smart.”

The pair walked beside each other as the moonlight shone through the cracks of the castle. Cedric had slipped the necklace box back into his pocket and he gently cleared his throat.

“I’m going to give the necklace to Cho.” He suddenly blurted out, causing Y/N to pause. She looked over her shoulder at Cedric, wondering if he was joking. He wasn’t.

“Why? She’s your ex.” Y/N felt mildly disappointed that the necklace wasn’t for her. For the longest time, she had been holding onto her feelings for Cedric. Everybody could see it; the Golden trio, the teachers, even Draco’s posse. And yet Cedric had never caught on. She was starting to wonder if he was just messing with her.

“She helped me through a lot. I owe it to her.” Cedric smiled. Y/N gazed at him before she nodded.

“Okay… I’m guessing you want my help?”

“Yes. Please.” Cedric was ready to get on his knees and beg. Though, he was sure Y/N would find great amusement in that. She had always been a little sadistic.

Y/N briefly looked away, blinking away small tears and recollecting her composure so her voice wouldn’t crack. “What do you want me to do?”

edric had wanted to meet Cho at the black late, which was where he and Y/N usually hung out. That stung.

Y/N tied the last of the heart-shaped balloons before securing them to a nearby tree. Cedric was pacing around, wildly muttering under his breath.

“Will you relax?” The Slytherin girl piped up, rolling her eyes. “You’re making me feel nervous.”

“I can’t help it.” Cedric replied. Of course, nobody could help but feel anxious around Cho Chang. She was beautiful and smart and kind. Y/N had talked to her a few times, and if she were a guy or lesbian, Cho would be her crush too.

“Well, that’s the last of the balloons. Good luck, Ced. I’ll be nearby if you need help. Just don’t expect me to hug you if she rejects you.” Y/N playfully punched her friend’s shoulder. Cedric boyishly grinned and quickly embraced her.

For a moment, Y/N was speechless. She slowly hugged him back and awkwardly patted him. She could smell his expensive cologne and it almost felt Cedric was confessing to her instead.

Y/N was the first to pull away. She wished Cedric luck once more before hurrying off, her heart pounding in her chest. She felt envious of Cho. Y/N had been by Cedric’s side since day one. She had comforted him and supported him and hid her breaking heart when Cedric admitted to liking Cho the first time.

And now it was all happening again.

Y/N hid behind a tree just in time to see Cho walk out of Hogwarts and make a beeline for Cedric. She watched as they conversed and when Cedric showed Cho the necklace, she jumped with joy.

Y/N let out a small sigh. She pressed her lips into a thin line, accepting that she wasn’t the girl Cedric would ever go for. She wondered that if they weren’t childhood friends, would Cedric still be nice to her?

She was a Slytherin. A somewhat mean one with a soft spot for certain people. She started too many fights to count, and the threat of expulsion was always hanging over her head.

She wasn’t Cho Chang, who was pretty like the starry night shining above the calm ocean. Cho Chang was kind, sweet, and loving.

Cho Chang was Cindy Lou and Y/N was the Grinch with no room in her heart to change.

The next time Y/N saw Cedric, he was by Cho’s side. Y/N usually sat at the Hufflepuff table with Cedric, much to some people’s dismay, but today Cho was with him.

Y/N didn’t feel welcomed at that point so she sat with her friends, completely missing the way Cedric gazed over at her in confusion.

“Ah, Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang. Everybody’s favorite couple has finally reunited.” Ivy, a pale-skinned girl with light freckles lining her cheeks and soft silver hair grimaced as she sarcastically spoke.

“It’s a shame you never dated Diggory, Y/N. You guys were perfect together.” Hime sighed as she poured herself a cup of pumpkin juice. She offered to fill Y/N’s glass as well, but the H/C-haired girl declined.

“Boys are always stupid.” Evan, short for Evangeline, piped up. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing. I agree with Hime. He should’ve gone for Y/N.”

Y/N silently ate as she listened to her friends complain about Cedric, probably in an attempt to make her feel better.

“Has anybody noticed how he keeps looking over here?” Hime questioned, whispering quietly. “Chang never seems to have his attention for long.”

“I’m telling you, Diggory secretly likes Y/N but he’s scared she’ll reject him. So he’s playing it safe and going for an ex who he knows he had chemistry with.” Ivy retorted, sparing another glance at Cedric.

Y/N huffed in amusement. “Where did you come up with that?” She spoke for the first time.

“It’s obvious.” Evan backed up Ivy’s theory. “When he wins a Quidditch game, who does he run to? You. When he needs help with homework, who does he find? You. When he wants to go to Hogsmeade, who does he immediately ask?”

Evan arched an eyebrow while Y/N sighed.

“Me.”

“Exactly!”

“It’s a plausible theory.” Hime uttered. “You two have been friends for ages. He’s close friends with Hermione Granger too, but does he hug her and look at her like he does to you?”

“That’s probably because she’s younger and he doesn’t want to end up with a sentence.”

“Good point. What about Floral over there?” Hime nodded over at the Ravenclaw girl who was always arranging flowers or reading about them. Her name wasn’t Floral but everyone called her that and it stuck. “You three are all friends, right?”

“More like I was forced to befriend her, but sure.”

“Diggory doesn’t look at her the way he looks at you.”

“And how does he look at me?”

Ivy slammed her hands on the table, looking like she had been waiting years for this question. “He looks at you like Jack Dawson looks at Rose. He looks at you like Chuck Bass looks at Blair Waldorf. He looks at you like Luke looks at Lorelei. Like Morticia and Gomez, Bella and Edward, uh.. give me another one!”

“Percy and Annabeth?” Evan suggested.

“Yes! That’s how he looks at you. He’s giving you the I wouldn’t want anybody else by my side look. He’s probably just… confused. You’re like his Cindy Lou Who. You make him happy and you bring out the best in him.”

“Cindy Lou is bright, bubbly, and extraordinary… she’s everything I’m not.” Y/N gestured over to Cho, who was giggling with Cedric. “Cho Chang is more like Cindy Lou.”

“Cindy Lou Who has a nice ring to it.” Evan said, off topic.

Y/N nodded in agreement. “It does. The rhyme is satisfying.”

“Enough about language features! You have to get your man back, Y/N.” Ivy intensely stared at Y/N, determined to get Cedric and her together.

“He was never mine to begin with.”

“Then make him yours! Come on, Y/N, you’re beautiful- no. Gorgeous. And sure, you have a bitter side but guys who can’t deal getting a little burnt aren’t worth it. And I know that you burnt Diggory over and over again, with both your anger and literal fire.”

“Just so we’re clear, the fire thing was an accident. And I don’t want to force anything onto Cedric. I’ll just… go with the flow.” Y/N ate the last of her food and stood up, “I need to wrap presents. Don’t you dare try and sneak in to see your’s.”

Y/N was mainly referring to Ivy, who lifted her hands in surrender.

Again, Y/N failed to notice how Cedric’s eyes trailed to her. But Cho saw it.

“Cedric.” The raven-haired beautify tugged on his sleeve, “Can we talk?” She spared Cedric’s friends a look. “Alone?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

The pair walked off, fully aware of how Y/N’s friends were watching them closely.

“What did you want to talk about?” Cedric questioned, tilting his head to the side.

“I don’t want to assume anything, Cedric. But to me, it seems like you only confessed to me again to play it safe. I can tell that your true feelings don’t lie with me.” Cho glanced at Y/N, who exited a nearby bathroom and was too busy drying her hands to notice the couple. “They lie with her.”

Cedric followed Cho’s gaze, softly staring at Y/N with that damned look of adoration.

“I think someone else deserves this necklace.” Cho gently removed the jewellery, handing it over to Cedric. “Face it, you love her. You always have. You can’t try to love me, Cedric, not when Y/N exists.”

“She doesn’t like me back.” Cedric muttered, grasping the necklace.

“Are you sure?” Cho quirked an eyebrow. “Why do you think she stayed by your side for so long? Even when the other Slytherins teased her, even when you two argued, even when you kissed me in front of her. How could you not notice, Cedric? She brings you drinks after quidditch practice and buys you gifts and even stays at Hogwarts so you aren’t lonely. Why do you think she never dated anybody, Cedric? It’s because you were the one she wanted.”

Cedric shook his head. “No. She doesn’t like me. Y/N is smart and amazing and cunning. I’m not her type. Her type would be someone like…” He paused, thinking, “Matteo Riddle.”

Cho sighed as she shook her head. “You really have no idea, do you? Spend more time with Y/N and hopefully you’ll notice the things the rest of us do.”

She quietly walked off, leaving Cedric standing outside the Great Hall. Cho made an immediate beeline for Ivy, Evan, and Hime and sat in Y/N’s spot.

The trio clad in green glanced at her, confused and a little hostile.

“Cedric likes Y/N.” Cho quickly uttered so the group didn’t explode on her. “I got through to him but he thinks Y/N doesn’t like him back.”

“Thats bullshit. It’s so obvious!” Ivy groaned.

“Exactly.” Evan agreed, “But Y/N doesn’t think Cedric likes her either.”

Cho sighed. “It’s obvious they have mutual feelings but neither of them believe it. So, let’s force them to confess.”

Hime raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you like Cedric? Why are you willing to help us?”

“Despite our dating history, Cedric is still my friend. And I want to help him in any way I can.” Cho smiled.

“Oh, I have an idea!” Ivy exclaimed, “What if we get them under the mistletoe? But instead, they have to fight! We can call it mistlefoe!”

Cho, Hime, and Evan exchanged looks.

“I think we should just stick to mistletoe.” Cho uttered. “We could, uh, surprise them by decorating one of their common rooms? The Slytherin room is never decorated, right?”

“I wish it was.” Evan sighed, “It’s a cute idea. We could surprise Y/N by decorating the common room and then led her in and Cedric can be standing in the middle of the room under the mistletoe.”

“But to pull that off, we’ll need more help.” Hime added, “I don’t think four people can do that. And it’s only us in the Slytherin common room. Not even Matteo is here. So he can’t help.”

Cho glanced past Hime and Ivy, staring at the Golden Trio and their extended group of friends. She smiled. “I have an idea. But it’s going to involve working with Gryffindors.”

The group of Slytherins all glanced at each other before they shrugged in unison.

“Anything for Y/N.”

“Whatever.”

“Do I get to kiss Oliver Wood after Diggory and Y/N kiss?”

Cho, Evan, and Hime stared at Ivy, who only cheekily grinned.

“Um… I’m not sure about that last one. Let’s just start off with asking the Gryffindors first.” Cho sheepishly smiled.

“Ivy and I will get the decorations.” Hime offered, “There’s some extra ones in the basement if Hogwarts too. Evan, Chang, you can get those after you ask the Gryffindors.”

“Call me Cho.” The ravenette smiled before she stood up. “We don’t have much time. Let’s hurry.”

“Wait, we forgot something.” Ivy piped up, “Who’s going to distract Y/N?”

“Evan can distract L/N. I’ll ask the Gryffindors myself and if they accept, they can help me get the decorations from the basement.”

“Okay.” Hime looked around, slowly nodding. She smiled. “Let’s go.”

Cho approached the red table while Hime and Ivy hurried towards Hogsmeade and Evan rushed off to find Y/N.

It took a few hours for everything to be set up, but finally the Slytherin room was decorated and ready.

“I need to get something. I’ll be back.” Evan smiled, lying through her teeth. She watched as Y/N entered the Slytherin common room and rushed off to find her friends.

Y/N squinted her eyes as she walked into the dark room. “Huh? Ivy? Hime? You here? What did you do to the lights?” Nobody answered her. She tilted her head to the side, confused.

The lights suddenly turned on, along with multiple Christmas LED lights. She quietly gasped as she stared at the tinsel covered stairs and brightly decorated tree.

In all her years at Hogwarts, the common room had never been decorated. Slytherins weren’t exactly big on Christmas.

Y/N looked around, realizing she wasn’t alone. “Cedric?” She stared at the brunette boy. “What are you doing here? Have you seen Ivy or Hime? I can’t seem to find them anywhere.”

Cedric silently looked up. Y/N, puzzled, followed his gaze. She lifted her head, staring up at the floating mistletoe above her head. “Oh.” She whispered.

She looked at Cedric again, jumping when he was only a foot away.

“I’m sorry if I ever hurt you, Y/N.” He uttered, “I should’ve noticed.”

“Noticed what?”

Cedric didn’t say anything as he leaned forward to softly kiss her. Y/N froze, her heart almost leaping out of her chest.

“Y/N,” Cedric pulled away and brushed a strand of loose hair aside, “You’ll always be my Cindy Lou.”

[multi-fandom-enjoyer]

Yule Ball, 1994:

Y/n watches, starstruck, as Hermione comes walks the stairs in her gown.

Hermione (chuckles): What?

Y/n: Sorry, you just look gorgious.

They hold out their arm.

Y/n: May I have this dance?

The two smile at each other as Hermione takes their arm before the two walk twards the Great Hall.

***

Years later:

Y/n holds a picture of themselves dancing with Hermione at the Yule Ball. They turn as they hear a voice and arms wrap around them from behind.

Hermione: Feeling sentimental?

They both watch the picture move, showing them dancing before they kiss.

Y/n: How can I not? It was the second best day of my life.

Hermione: Second?

Y/n chuckles as they set down the picture before taking Hermione's hand in their own, showing off their wedding rings.

[ellswritings]

About Time

Harry Potter x Gryffindor!Reader

TW: Harry being jealous, Y/N is really ‘that girl,’ fluff.

╭────────── ♱ · 𓆩🤍𓆪 · ♱ ─╮

╰─ ♱ · 𓆩🤍𓆪 · ♱ ──────────╯

The announcement of the Yule Ball sent the Hogwarts student body into a frenzy. Professor McGonagall’s proclamation during breakfast was met with gasps, whispers, and cheers. Even the more reserved Ravenclaws exchanged eager glances over their plates.

“Now remember,” McGonagall said, her tone stern as she surveyed the Hall, “this is a formal event. Dress robes will be required, and students are expected to conduct themselves with decorum.”

A chorus of whispers erupted across the Great Hall. Y/N L/N, sitting with Ron, Hermione, and Harry at the Gryffindor table, raised her brows.

“Formal event, huh? Hope you boys have your frilly dress robes ready,” she teased, nudging Harry’s arm.

Harry smirked. “I don’t even know how to dance.”

“Figures,” she quipped, leaning closer with a mischievous glint. “Can’t wait to see you step on someone's toes all night.”

Ron groaned, ignoring their banter. “I just hope my mum didn’t send me anything embarrassing.”

“You’ll look like a prince, I’m sure,” Y/N teased, before turning to Hermione. “What about you? Got anyone in mind to ask you yet?”

Hermione flushed but quickly steered the conversation away. “The Ball is meant to unite the schools. You might want to think about representing Gryffindor without making a scene.”

Y/N put a hand to her chest, feigning offense. “Me? Make a scene? When have I ever—”

“Don’t answer that,” Harry interjected quickly, earning a grin from her.

It was moments like this—lighthearted and filled with their easy camaraderie—that made Y/N’s dynamic with Harry so unique. Their teasing often bordered on flirtation, though neither would ever admit it.

The moment McGonagall’s announcement ended, Y/N became a focal point for Yule Ball chatter, much to her bemusement. Boys seemed to appear out of nowhere, all vying for her attention.

Seamus Finnigan caught her in the common room first. “Y/N,” he said, bowing dramatically, “let me take you to the Yule Ball and save everyone else the heartache.”

She laughed, patting his cheek. “Nice try, Seamus, but I’ll have to pass.”

“I’m crushed,” he said, clutching his chest theatrically before retreating with a grin.

Later, Michael Corner stopped her outside Charms, stammering through his request. “Y-Y/N, I was wondering if maybe you’d, uh, go to the Ball with me?”

Y/N smiled kindly. “Michael, that’s sweet of you, but I’ve already got someone in mind.”

“Oh,” he mumbled, cheeks burning as he scurried away.

But the real kicker came when Viktor Krum approached her after lunch one afternoon. His imposing figure seemed to create a vacuum of silence as students watched the Durmstrang champion approach her.

“Y/N,” he said, his thick accent wrapping around her name. “I vould like to take you to the Yule Ball.”

She tilted her head, surprised but not flustered. “That’s quite the offer, Viktor. Why me?”

“You are... strong. Confident,” he said simply. “And very beautiful.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she replied, smirking. “But I’m afraid I have to say no.”

Krum looked genuinely surprised. “You do not vant to go?”

“I’m flattered,” she said sincerely. “But I’ve got my eyes on someone else.”

Viktor nodded respectfully. “You are honest. I admire that.”

​​Harry’s jealousy simmered for days. He couldn’t help but notice how Y/N seemed to glide through the chaos, turning down every suitor with grace and humor. It was maddening, especially since he couldn’t summon the courage to ask her himself.

“What’s stopping you?” Hermione asked one evening in the common room after he’d spent several minutes glaring at Cedric Diggory, who had been talking to Y/N outside.

“She’s got better options,” Harry mumbled.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Harry. If she wanted to go with Krum or Diggory, she would have said yes already.”

Ron chimed in, his mouth full of Chocolate Frogs. “Yeah, but what if she says no? Imagine the embarrassment.”

“Helpful, Ron,” Hermione snapped before turning to Harry. “You won’t know unless you try.”

As the days went on, The Chosen One wasn’t sure when it started, but he couldn’t seem to look away when Y/N entered the room. It was almost painful to watch her interact with others, especially when those others seemed to linger too long or laugh a little too hard at her jokes.

Take breakfast, for example. She was laughing at something George Weasley had said, and her laughter drew half the Great Hall’s attention. George smirked, leaning in conspiratorially. Whatever he said next made her snort, her hand lightly smacking his shoulder.

Harry frowned into his porridge. “What’s so funny?”

Ron looked up from his plate. “What?”

“Over there,” Harry said, nodding toward the Weasley twins and Y/N.

Ron shrugged. “Dunno. George probably made some ridiculous joke about Blast-Ended Skrewts. Why?”

“No reason,” Harry muttered, stabbing at his food.

Hermione, ever observant, arched a brow. “You know, for someone who doesn’t care, you’re awfully focused on her.”

Harry glared. “I’m not focused. She’s just… loud.”

“Oh, yes, it’s definitely her volume that has you glowering like a thundercloud,” Hermione said dryly.

A week before the Ball, Y/N found herself heading to the library to escape the endless string of admirers. The quiet sanctuary of the shelves was a welcome reprieve until she spotted none other than Harry Potter, buried in a book that he looked thoroughly uninterested in.

“Since when do you study this hard?” she teased, dropping into the seat across from him.

Harry jumped, nearly knocking his inkpot over. “I could ask you the same. Don’t you have another suitor to fend off?”

“Not at the moment,” she said with a smirk. “Figured I’d hide out for a bit.”

“Hide?” he asked, furrowing his brow.

“Yeah, you know, to avoid the inevitable ‘Y/N, please go to the Ball with me’ speech from yet another poor soul.”

Harry tried to smile, but it came out strained. “Sounds... exhausting.”

“It is,” she replied with a sigh, leaning back in her chair. “So, what are you doing here?”

“Trying to figure out how to dance without looking like an idiot,” he muttered, his cheeks turning pink.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh. “Harry, you’ve faced trolls, Dementors, and a giant snake. Surely, a little dancing isn’t going to kill you.”

“It might if I step on someone’s foot,” he quipped, finally cracking a genuine smile.

Y/N tilted her head, studying him. “You know, you don’t have to be perfect at everything. Just... have fun with it.”

“I’ll try,” he said, though his tone was doubtful.

“Well,” she said, standing and grabbing his hand, “no time like the present.”

“What?” Harry stammered as she pulled him into the open space between the shelves.

“Let’s practice,” she said, placing one of his hands on her waist and holding the other. “It’s not that hard. Just follow my lead.”

Harry’s heart was racing as he tried to focus on her instructions. But it was difficult to think straight with Y/N so close, her laugh filling the quiet library as she teased him for his clumsiness.

“See? You’re getting the hang of it,” she said after a few minutes.

“Yeah, sure,” he muttered, looking everywhere but at her.

She stopped, her eyes narrowing. “Alright, Potter. What’s going on with you? You’ve been acting weird lately.”

“I’m fine,” he said quickly.

“You’re a terrible liar,” she replied, crossing her arms. “Is this about the Ball?”

Harry hesitated, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find the words.

Before he could respond, Madam Pince appeared, glaring at them. “No dancing in the library!”

Y/N grabbed Harry’s arm, pulling him toward the exit with a laugh. “Guess we’ll have to finish this later.”

Harry’s anger ended up reaching new heights when he stumbled upon Y/N and Cedric in the courtyard. They were standing under a tree, laughing about something Harry couldn’t hear. He hesitated behind a pillar, close enough to see but far enough to avoid being noticed.

“So,” Cedric said, leaning casually against the trunk, “are you always this difficult to impress, or am I just unlucky?”

Y/N smirked. “I have high standards. You’re doing alright so far, though.”

Cedric placed a hand over his chest in mock relief. “Good to know. I was worried I’d have to resort to reciting sonnets.”

“Oh, please,” Y/N teased, crossing her arms. “You don’t strike me as the poetry type.”

Cedric feigned offense. “And what type am I, then?”

“The charming Quidditch star who thinks his smile is enough to get by,” she said, though her tone was playful.

“Well,” Cedric replied, grinning, “is it working?”

Y/N laughed. “Maybe a little.”

“Enough to get a yes to the Yule Ball?” Cedric asked, his tone shifting to something more sincere.

Y/N hesitated, her smile softening. “Cedric, you’re sweet. And honestly, if I didn’t already have someone in mind, I’d probably say yes.”

Cedric tilted his head, a curious look in his eyes. “Someone in mind, huh? Lucky bloke. Should I be worried?”

She shook her head. “Not at all. But thank you for asking—it means a lot.”

Harry, still hidden, felt his stomach churn. She had someone in mind? Was it someone else he didn’t know about?

The revelation haunted Harry for the rest of the day. Who could she mean? George? Fred? Or someone else entirely?

By the time they reached the common room that evening, he couldn’t hold it in any longer. “So,” he began, trying to sound casual, “you’ve been spending a lot of time with Cedric lately.”

Y/N looked up from her Charms textbook, clearly amused. “Not really. Why?”

“No reason,” Harry said quickly, though his tone betrayed him.

Hermione groaned, setting down her quill. “Oh, for goodness’ sake, Harry. Just ask her already!”

“Ask me what?” Y/N asked, her brows knitting together.

Harry’s face turned crimson. “Nothing. Forget it.”

For the next few days, Harry avoided her entirely. Y/N noticed immediately, her confusion growing with each passing hour. By the time Defense Against the Dark Arts rolled around, she’d had enough.

When Harry excused himself to the bathroom mid-class, Y/N followed, cornering him just as he passed an empty broom closet.

“Inside,” she said, tugging him by the sleeve before he could protest.

“Y/N, what are you—”

“Shut it,” she snapped, closing the door behind them. “What is going on with you?”

“Nothing,” he said too quickly, avoiding her gaze.

“Don’t lie to me, Potter,” she said, crossing her arms. “You’ve been acting weird ever since—oh.” Her eyes narrowed. “This is about Cedric, isn’t it?”

Harry’s jaw clenched. “It’s not—”

“Don’t bother denying it,” she cut him off. “What, are you jealous?”

Harry’s eyes flashed. “Why would I be jealous? You’ve been flirting with half the school.”

Her brows shot up. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he said, his voice rising. “Every guy in Hogwarts and Durmstrang is lining up to ask you, and you just—just laugh and smile like it’s nothing.”

“It is nothing!” she shouted back. “I turned all of them down, Harry! Including Cedric.”

Harry froze. “You... did?”

“Yes,” she said, her tone softer now but still firm. “Because there’s only one person I want to go with.”

“Who?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

She stared at him for a long moment before stepping closer. “You, you idiot.”

Harry’s heart stuttered in his chest. “Me?”

“Obviously,” she said, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “Now, are you going to ask me, or do I have to keep turning people down?”

Swallowing his nerves, Harry met her gaze. “Y/N, will you go to the Yule Ball with me?”

Her smile widened. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Before he could process what was happening, she leaned in, capturing his lips in a kiss that was both gentle and electric. When they pulled apart, Harry couldn’t stop the grin spreading across his face.

“About time,” she teased, tugging him out of the closet. “Now let’s get back to class before anyone notices we’re gone.”

The Yule Ball ended up being magical, but for Harry, the real highlight was dancing with Y/N under the enchanted ceiling, knowing they’d both found exactly what they were looking for.

[lactosetolerantb]

My recent obsession

[mosquego359]

𖤐One Kiss and A Quidditch Match — Chapter 8: The Suit𖤐

Prologue (recommended to read)

Chapter 7 (previous)

Pair: Cedric Diggory x Male Slytherin Reader

Word count: 2.2K words

Summary of the book: You and Cedric Diggory hate each other. It has always been this way. But everything changes one night when you kiss each other at a party. Now, it seems you can’t escape each other — from being partnered up in Herbology for an important project to having to help Cedric during the Triwizard Tournament.

Summary of the chapter: You and Cedric talk about the Yule Ball, you slip up, accidentally nearly revealing a secret, and you realise something about yourself.

Notes: Please comment on anything I should change to improve this. Also, I am not British, so I am not 100% sure how to correctly write people from the UK. (I'm very sorry for the late ass update but motivation hates me)

Content warning: Swearing and a slur

!PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE WITHOUT PERMISSION OR CREDIT TO ME!

...

Over the next few hours, it seemed Winnie had informed most of your friends because, after breakfast, Elsie and Brian came to visit you and handed you the homework you hadn’t completed yet so you didn’t have to go back to your dorm.

Even Alistair gave you a quick visit. He apologised for his behaviour and how rude he was back at the first Triwizard Tournament Task. It seems your friends had given him a strict talking-to based on how he swallowed his words, voice a nearly undeletable murmur. You forgave him, of course; you had been friends for years, and you had already corrected him when he said other stupid shit.

His jaw clenched when you informed him you and Cedric had made up. When Alistair held a grudge towards someone, he was likely to keep it for a while, so you barely noted his reaction. At least he didn’t say anything rude.

“All right, here are the last few books about magical riddles and puzzles,” you dropped a pile of around six books on the table next to Cedric.

Over the past few weeks, you had gotten closer, and you started considering him a friend as you tried to solve the mystery of the egg. Usually, you’d work on it in one of your dorms, but now, both of your roommates wanted quiet time, so you couldn’t open the egg around them. 

Cedric suggested heading to the library to skim through the books you hadn’t read to find ideas, but for the past few hours, you had found nothing of use. Besides, the egg was in Cedric’s dorm since you were supposed to be quiet in the library.

“Which one do you want to start with?” you asked him, checking out the overs of each novel.

“Ugh! This is useless,” groaned the Hufflepuff, running his hand through his hair in frustration. He had been skimming through an old, thick grimoire, and his irritation was evident. 

You huffed, “What? Giving up, Diggory? I thought you were beter than that?”

“Not funny, (Name). We’ve been going at it for, what, three hours? Four, even? And we still haven’t found anything that works. Spell are useless and it’s not in any languages we’ve seen.”

“Actually, it’s a quarter to five, so it’s been three hours and a half.” You checked your watch, “But I agree. Trying to find out what that dammed egg is trying to tell us is way too difficult. We should take a break.” You suggested, sitting on the table, your feet on the chair next to Cedric.

He nodded eagerly.

“Great! Let’s just talk for, like thirty minutes to refresh our brains.” 

Cedric hummed, “I actually do have a question for you. I mean, everyone’s been talking about the Yule ball for a while and a lot of people already have date. I was just wondering who you’re going with.”

The answer slightly startled you, but it didn’t shock you. As he said, everyone — especially the girls who got to go — was ecstatic for the Yule ball. Every corner you turned, giggles, murmurs and questions could be heard about this rare event.

And a school full of romance-focused teens, an event where you could bring someone you liked to, and a bunch of attractive foreign students most definitely resulted in trashy love confessions and awkward rejections. Unfortunately for you, no one had asked you to go with them on a date. Even Winnie hadn’t — which was strange, considering you did almost everything together.

“Nah, I’m not really interested in that stuff right now,” you replied, but you felt it in your gut — you were lying to yourself. “How about you? Any special girl you’d want to spend the night with.” You didn’t know why, but despite your curiosity for his answer, the words felt like vomit coming out of your mouth.

Cedric chuckled, “Yeah: Cho Chang. She’s a fifth year in Ravenclaw. You know her?”

You nodded slowly. Although you weren’t close, she was one of the few friends you and Cedric shared back when you were still enemies. She was really sweet and intelligent — so much so that she once corrected your homework in your 3rd year at Hogwarts. Like everyone else in her house, she was creating: inventing stories and other worlds, recounting them to the few people who attended her storytelling club a year ago.

A knot twisted in your gut, but you ignored it.

“That’s nice,” you said carefully after a small beat of silence, “How long have you two been dating? I don’t recall you saying anything about a relationship.”

Cedric let out a light chuckle, “ That’s because we’re not.”

“You’re…not?”

“Nope. Everyone just assumes so since we’ve been close in the past couple of months, but we’re just friends.” He explained.

You nodded, internally letting out a sigh of relief. “What are you wearing, if you don’t mind me asking?” You slid into the chair next to him and placed your chin onto your palm.

“I thought I was asking the questions,” Cedric smirked but continued before you could apologise, “Don’t worry about it, (Name). My mum just bought me a new fancy outfit when she found out I was the Hogwarts Champion. What about you?”

“Me?” You asked, pointing to yourself, “My dad sewed me a white suit. He sent it to me by owl a few days ago, but I’ve yet to try it on. It’s honestly impressive rather, considering it was handmade. I mean, sure, it has a few loose threads and it isn’t the best quality, but I appreciate the effort.”

Cedric’s eyebrows furrowed, but he kept his charming smile, “Handmade? I’ve never heard of a wizard who doesn’t use his wand to sew.”  Shit. “What’s it like, what does he do.”

Oh, you fucked up. 

There were not many known Muggleborn or Half-blood Slytherins, considering that not only most of the house were Pureblood, but kids were often bullied for merely being not “fully wix”. For a while, you’d been pretty good at keeping the fact that your father did not practice magic — only informing your close friends — but it was so difficult whenever you got close to anyone else. Even the thought of telling Cedric nauseated you with how his opinion of you would change.

“Oh-um, well,” you stammered, “He’s very fascinated with Muggles, y’know?”

“I’ve never heard of a wizard sewing by hand before. He must really care a lot for you. What does he do for work?” Cedric attempts to get the information out of you. Was he onto you? Did he realise you weren’t a Pureblood like most people thought you were?

You shrugged, visibly uncomfortable, but trying to hide it. “It’s nothing, really. And as for his work, he’s, um,” You made incomprehensible hand gestures, trying to fill the void of silence.

Before anything else could happen, a young Slytherin girl peeked her head over a bookshelf, “Oh, (Surname), there you are!”

You and the Hufflepuff turned to look at her.

“I need yur help: someone pranked my sister and we need your help to undo the jinx.” The girl looked at you with panicked eyes, “Someone dumped auto-freezing water on her and I don’t want her to die.”

You stood up, using that opportunity to escape from the conversation with Cedric, “Of course!” You turned to Cedric to wish him goodbye when a thought struck you. Water. “Ced, about the egg, have you tried to pour water into it? Maybe it only screams random nonsense when human ears hear it without anything to…change it, I guess.”

With that, you followed the Slytherin girl out of the library, leaving Cedric with a possible solution to the egg riddle and more than a few questions about your personal life.

That night, you opened your closet to the white suit your dad sent you. You definitely downplayed how beautiful it really was. It looked like it was made for a royal ball, with golden chains and pins decorating it. You hadn’t tried it on yet since you were honestly afraid to break it. You loved your dad. You really did. But the thought of everyone’s judgement on your bloodline was nauseating.

You carefully took it out of your closet, stroking the silk fabric. Your auntie and your grandmother loved sewing, so it was only natural that your dad picked up the skill. But that outfit was really something else. Would Cedric like it?

“(Name)?” You heard Alistair call your name from behind you, “We need to talk.”

You carefully hung it back up and turned to Alistair. His arms were crossed and he had a serious look on his face — a rare sight. Truth be told, you were still slightly annoyed at him for his disrespect, but you felt as if you had forgiven him.

“What’s up?”

He paused and a sense of caution and dread settled in your stomach. “I’m really worried about you?”

“How so?” You frowned.

“Well, it’s only been, what, a month, since you recovered from that injury, and I don’t mean to say that you shouldn’t have healed or whatever, but,” Alistair paused and sighed, “I just feel that it’s odd that you and Diggory are super close in such a short span of time.”

You gave him a look that said you were clearly not unimpressed, “Really, mate? I already told you, we forgave each other. You should know by now that I love giving others second chances, considering how many I gave you.”

“I know,” He sighed, “But, I’m genuinely worried. I know I haven’t been the greatest friend, but trust me when I care for you. I mean, I doubt you’d ever date him, because you’re not one of the fag-”

“I swear to God, Alistair I am not in the mood for you to say a fucking slur, understand?” You snap at him, cutting him off, “I know that you care and I know that you mean well, but you can’t be rude just because I held a grudge against a Hufflepuff, okay?”

Alistair’s jaw clenched, and the glint in his eyes was all but friendly, but for the first time in forever, he stayed calm. “Okay. I’m just looking out for you.” He started backing away towards the door, “Just don’t come running back if he breaks your heart.”

After a few seconds, you sat on your bed. Man, this was a stressful day.

But…that short conversation with Alistair left thoughts bubbling in your head. You recollected the way Cedric’s smile made you feel, the little details you noticed about him, like the way he rested his forehead in his hands whenever he read intensely, and even the odd thing you felt when he mentioned going to the Yule ball with Cho.

Was it possible that you…

No. No way you’d fall for Cedric. After all, as Alistair stated, it had only been a month, and how could you have fallen for the person you once hated the most in that short amount of time?

You exhaled loudly, deciding to just curl up into your covers and rest to clear your mind, and possibly gain more clarity in the morning. No, it did not matter that you were still in your uniform. You were tired and to you, that was all that mattered at the moment.

You closed your eyes and sleep surprisingly came easily.

Sometimes, your dreams were difficult to separate from reality. Sometimes, they were memories, and other times you dreamt of things you desired.

This one was situated in what you believed the Yule ball to look like; a white room with silver accents and and engravings on the walls and ceiling shining like glittering ice. The floor was marble and you saw the reflection of the crystal chandelier that hung from the silver ceiling. 

You could hear classical music coming from all around the room and saw that you were all alone except for one person. Cedric. What was he doing here? And why were you two slow dancing together?

Your confusion disappeared when you looked into his gorgeous grey eyes and saw his dashing smile. Butterflies tickled your stomach and you felt heat rush to your cheeks and neck. The whole experience felt surreal, and you found yourself returning his smile.

Slowly, the music started fading, and all you could focus on was Cedric. He squeezed your hand. It felt so real. He put his other gloved hand on your lower back, sending shivers down your spine. It felt so real. His eyes flickered to your lips and he closed them as he leaned his face closer to yours. It felt so real. When your lips finally connected, you thought to yourself: “I wish this was real.”

You woke up. Not to a glittering ballroom, but to your dark dorm, staring at the ceiling that was not silver like in the dream, but green. That was all a dream? You would have asked yourself if not for the realisation of your feelings towards Cedric. 

You liked him.

...

Chapter 9

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[iconicstoner]

a light in the darkness

gn!reader x cedric diggory

words: 1126

summary: In an AU where Cedric survives the Triwizard tournament, but has trauma from it, y/n has to help him through a panic attack caused by his claustrophobia.

a/n: mentions what happened to Cedric in the maze in detail, mentions claustrophobia, and implied panic attack

Cedric would never be the same after the Triwizard Tournament.

Not everything had changed. He was still the same loyal and compassionate boy you’d always loved, but he would never be as carefree as he once was. Slowly, his hair had been growing out; nothing major, but just enough to cover his eyes. His sleep pattern was in a downward spiral too. Almost every night, he had grim nightmares about what happened during the tournament, and it caused him to fall asleep in his classes often. He confessed to you the terrifying memories he had from the maze. You could remember in great detail when he told you about the suffocating tunnels of ivy that surrounded him as he tried to move through the maze, making it almost impossible to breathe. The experience was suffocating. He was even more scared by the overgrown roots that wrapped around him and attempted to carry him away from the cup. He clawed at them, screaming in terror for help, but nothing he could do on his own would fight them off. Now, if he got his shoe caught on something as simple as his shoelace, it would make him turn ghostly pale, getting flashbacks to the moment he could’ve lost his life.

Despite what he went through, he kept exceptional grades and still had his friends. For him, maintaining his grades wasn’t a surprise. Not only were his professors very understanding, but studying was one of the few things he could do without ever having to think about what happened that day. He was much more surprised to discover that his friends still loved him, and that he was still as popular as always. He thought his friends would be disappointed in him, but like the incredible friends they were, they adored him just as much, and respected him for the hardship he went through. More than anything, he was glad you still loved him, even if he would never be exactly the same.

However, attention and popularity were no longer what made him feel whole. When people circled him to talk to him, it often scared him. After what happened in the maze, Cedric had intense claustrophobia, and even standing in a crowded room could set him off.

After every dark thing that happened, the only real thing he could find solace in was you, his beloved support system. You knew this, and made it a point to check on him daily, especially if he didn’t talk to you for a day. That’s how you knew when it was a dreadful day for him.

Today was different. Classes were over for the day, and you hadn’t seen him once. You thought maybe it was just a coincidence you didn’t see him in the halls, but when he didn’t show up to your shared History of Magic class, you grew worried. You’d asked around about him for what felt like hours, and eventually one of his friends told you they’d seen Cedric go to his dormitory.

You contemplated what could’ve happened as you entered the Hufflepuff common room. The smell of sweets wafted through the air, and the syrupy scent filled your nose. Usually, you loved to admire the soft yellow furniture and warm lighting, but today you went straight for the boys' dorm. You pushed open the ancient creaky oak door to Cedric’s dorm, and the scene felt all too familiar to you. Before the tournament, Cedric often invited you over, but that was becoming rare as time went on. You knew he still loved you, but it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to reach out to anyone, even just to chat.

You opened the door to find Cedric on the wood floor, sitting next to his bed, with his knees to his chest. You rushed over, quickly closed the door behind you, and sat with him.

For a while, he didn’t say anything, he just softly cried. His cheeks were red, and his breathing was shallow. His favorite gold Hufflepuff sweater had droplets of water across the front from his salty tears. You wanted to engulf him in your arms, but you knew he needed his space.

“I can’t believe what I did,” he finally said, breaking the silence. The tears in his throat were audible and heartbreaking. “A group of people tried talking to me, and I just snapped,” he’s barely able to choke out the words as he begins to sob into your shoulder.

“I know Ced, it’s okay,” you say as you brush your fingers through his soft overgrown honey hair.

“I just snapped,” he says between sobs. “They were all standing so close, and I couldn’t breathe, and all I could think about was that stupid maze.” The words leave his mouth in a quick spiral, and once they’re out he grabs you like if he doesn’t, you’ll vanish. “I shouted at them,” he says, sounding dejected. Even if those students never remembered it, he was too sweet not to blame himself.

“Cedric Diggory,” you say in a strong, but concerned tone, “no one is mad at you. The people here are considerate enough to understand what you went through, and if they can’t understand it, then maybe they deserve to be yelled at.” He doesn’t respond to you, but he holds on to you a little tighter, and presses his face into your neck. His warm, soft lips meet your skin and plant a small kiss on you, and you can feel his wet, tear-stained cheeks brush against you. “Why don’t we get you some food? You’ll feel much better,” you earnestly suggest. He moves away from your neck, keeping a firm grip on your body. Despite his disheveled appearance, he sends you a grin that makes you feel like the sun has just come out after a long winter. He nods his head in agreement and stands up with you. You watch as he fixes his hair, and changes his clothes to go down to the great hall with you. When his shirt is off, you see his sculpted, toned body, and you can’t help but giggle. He blushes, and a soft shade of pink takes over his face. He sends you a wink and quickly puts on another shirt. It seemed like Hufflepuff’s golden boy was making a return.

Once you’re out of the Hufflepuff common room he takes you by the hand and twirls you around, pulling you into him with a soft smile. Your hands connect, as if they were made to hold each other, and he traces his thumb in circles on your hand.

“You are the light of my life,” he whispers into your ear, and it’s like you can hear the smile in his voice.