#cedric diggory x hufflepuff!reader

[lolasuju]

i'm a firm believer that cedric diggory is a 'he fell first AND harder' like it's not possible for him to be anything else

it's first year and you're nervous about being at hogwarts and for some reason have a fear of the sorting hat (wdym it reads your mind and makes the biggest decision of your life)

all of a sudden the mousy haired boy you were in the same boat with, notices your anxiety and whispers in your ear that "it won't hurt you, my mummy said that he's really nice :)"

then he gets sorted into hufflepuff and as he gets off the stool he makes sure to look you in the eyes with a bright smile and eyes that radiate "it didn't hurt, everything will be fine"

and as you get called up, he's pleading with the hat to sort you in hufflepuff, all while the voice poking around in your head mumbles about "lovebirds" and "bloody eleven year olds and their wishes"

and the sorting hat purposely puts you in a different house, so pining can happen (it's also another way to promote inter house relationships)

then throughout your years at hogwarts, future first years know about the girl and hufflepuff's golden boy that trails after her like a puppy

[spencersmopbucket]

Mirror | Draco Malfoy

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader Summary: You're everything Draco sees in himself -- and he's never wanted anything more than to be understood.

The dungeons of Hogwarts were colder than most remembered. They clung to silence like a second skin, damp with echoes of footsteps long since passed and secrets whispered into stone.

You had never minded the quiet.

Like your uncle, you found comfort in solitude — the kind of comfort that didn’t demand smiles or small talk, only silence and space. Professor Snape wasn’t affectionate by any definition of the word, but he saw you. And that had always been enough.

You were his niece — not that most students knew. It wasn’t a well-known fact, nor was it a connection you flaunted. You shared none of his oily hair or hooked nose, none of the scowl that made first-years flinch when he walked by. In truth, the resemblance was nearly invisible unless someone looked deeper: the calculating expression behind your eyes, the way your voice rarely raised, the sharp wit that cut deeper than any spell.

Snape didn’t coddle you. He tutored you in potions with the same exacting precision he used on everyone else — but in private, he trusted you with his thoughts, let his tone soften just slightly, and ensured you had your space. You were the only student he didn’t reprimand for lingering in his office. Sometimes, you’d sit there for hours while he graded parchment and the dungeon fire popped softly between you.

You weren’t cold — you just didn’t care for the unnecessary. You kept your head down, your spells sharp, and your eyes sharper. A Slytherin through and through, but not in the same way your housemates were. You were quiet, not cruel. Calculated, not callous. And you had a reputation of being unreadable, unapproachable… unbothered.

It wasn’t until he started watching you that your perfectly constructed walls began to shift.

Draco Malfoy.

He was everything you understood — ambition, restraint, a mask so carefully curated it was practically skin. And yet, he looked at you like he couldn’t decide if he’d found a rival or a mirror. Like he wanted to speak, but didn’t know how. Like he recognized something in you… and it terrified him.

And you — well, for once, you didn’t mind being seen.

The dungeons of Hogwarts were colder than most remembered. They clung to silence like a second skin, damp with echoes of footsteps long since passed and secrets whispered into stone.

You had never minded the quiet.

Like your uncle, you found comfort in solitude—the kind of comfort that didn’t demand smiles or small talk, only silence and space. Professor Snape wasn’t affectionate by any definition of the word, but he saw you. And that had always been enough.

You were his niece—not that most students knew. It wasn’t a well-known fact, nor was it a connection you flaunted. You shared none of his oily hair or hooked nose, none of the scowl that made first-years flinch when he walked by. In truth, the resemblance was nearly invisible unless someone looked deeper: the calculating expression behind your eyes, the way your voice rarely raised, the sharp wit that cut deeper than any spell.

Snape didn’t coddle you. He tutored you in potions with the same exacting precision he used on everyone else—but in private, he trusted you with his thoughts, let his tone soften just slightly, and ensured you had your space. You were the only student he didn’t reprimand for lingering in his office. Sometimes, you’d sit there for hours while he graded parchment and the dungeon fire popped softly between you.

You weren’t cold—you just didn’t care for the unnecessary. You kept your head down, your spells sharp, and your eyes sharper. A Slytherin through and through, but not in the same way your housemates were. You were quiet, not cruel. Calculated, not callous. And you had a reputation of being unreadable, unapproachable… unbothered.

It wasn’t until he started watching you that your perfectly constructed walls began to shift.

Draco Malfoy.

He was everything you understood—ambition, restraint, a mask so carefully curated it was practically skin. And yet, he looked at you like he couldn’t decide if he’d found a rival or a mirror. Like he wanted to speak, but didn’t know how. Like he recognized something in you… and it terrified him.

And you — well, for once, you didn’t mind being seen.

In fact, you loved it from the right people. And Draco was the right person.

The scent of asphodel and wormwood hung thick in the dungeon air, curling around stone pillars and sinking into the black robes of every student in the room. Cauldrons bubbled in eerie unison, and the low hum of muttered instructions mixed with the occasional sharp clatter of vials.

Professor Snape’s voice cut through the fog like a whip.

“Do not stir clockwise, Mr. Nott, unless your intent is to melt a hole through the table.”

You didn’t look up from your own cauldron. Your stir was precise — seven counterclockwise turns, pause, sprinkle of crushed valerian root, then three more. Your notes were already memorized; you worked by instinct now, moving like someone who knew the potion was beneath them.

Across the table, Draco Malfoy was silent.

He wasn’t watching his potion.

He was watching you.

You felt his stare like a physical thing, a prickle of static against the back of your neck. He always did this — watching you like a puzzle, like he couldn’t quite figure out what made you tick. You were used to glances, to being noticed and quickly dismissed. But Draco… he lingered.

“What?” you asked flatly, not looking up.

His voice came a second too late, like he’d been caught off guard.

“Nothing.” A pause. “You’re doing it wrong.”

You finally glanced up, arching a brow.

“I’m sorry — was that concern or competition?”

His lips twitched into something that wasn’t quite a smirk. “I just thought you should know the instructions said to stir exactly ten times. You’ve done eleven.”

You set your ladle down and looked him dead in the eye. “I’m not following the instructions.”

That made him blink. “Why?”

“Because Snape’s instructions are wrong.”

He stared at you like you’d just confessed to murder. “He’s your uncle.”

“And he still gets things wrong. Often, actually. He overcompensates with precision because he doesn’t trust instinct.” You leaned forward, voice low enough for only him to hear. “But I do.”

Draco looked at you like he didn’t know whether to be irritated or impressed. You could almost see the war happening behind those pale grey eyes — the part of him that was raised to scoff at anyone who challenged authority, and the part of him that desperately craved someone who saw the world the way he did: carefully, calculatedly, and with an edge.

Your cauldron puffed a soft, silvery mist — perfect. His gave off a sputter of green smoke.

You looked down at it, then back up. “Guess you should’ve done eleven.” You fought the urge to release a quiet laugh.

Before he could retort, Snape’s voice rang out again.

“Miss Y/L/N. Ten points to Slytherin.”

Draco blinked. “For what?”

Snape didn’t even look up from his grading. “For improving my recipe.”

You tried not to smirk. Draco stared at you like you were an entirely new language he’d never been taught.

And Merlin, did he want to learn.

There were repeated instances like this with you — revealing parts of yourself that you thought no one paid attention to. You were more than just the quiet girl sitting in the back of a classroom earning good marks. You were smart, talented, mischievous. You had a sense of humor, passions, soft parts of yourself that you never expected to reveal.

Everything about you made Draco realize how alike you were. You both found it extremely difficult to expose the gentle parts of yourself.

In time, your personality grew on Draco. Factually, you grew around Draco like vines on stone.

You didn’t barge into his world. You crept in — slowly, deliberately. Slipping through cracks he hadn’t realized were there. One shared smirk in Potions. One witty retort in the corridor. One too-long glance across the Slytherin table. Like ivy on old brick, you twined around him without choking. Just existing. Becoming.

And he let you.

He didn’t push you away, didn’t sneer or snap the way he did with others. Not even when Snape began to watch your interactions with the subtle scrutiny of someone who noticed everything. Not when Pansy asked, offhandedly, if he and Snape’s niece were "a thing.” Not even when he caught himself staring at you in the common room, wondering what it might feel like to let you see all of him — without the mask, the sneer, the posturing.

Because with you, it wasn’t about impressing.

It was about being understood.

One evening, when he saw the suave Blaise Zabini trying to crack your hard shell in the same way he did, it all came to a head.

Draco was halfway through pretending to study in the Slytherin common room, a book open on his lap, eyes unmoving — when he caught the sound of your laugh. Not loud, not full. Just a short exhale, dry and quiet and laced with that sharp-edged wit you usually reserved for him.

His eyes flicked up.

You were sitting in one of the green velvet armchairs near the fire, curled slightly sideways with your legs tucked beneath you. Blaise stood just beside your chair, one hand resting on the back, leaning in just close enough to be noticed. Too close.

Draco’s jaw locked.

Blaise was talking and you were listening. Not swooning, of course not. You weren’t the type. But you weren’t brushing him off, either.

And that? That was enough to piss Draco off.

He stood, calmly, as if he'd just remembered something terribly important. He closed the book with a quiet snap, and crossed the room without a single hesitation.

“Blaise,” Draco drawled as he came to stand beside the armchair, his tone bored, sharp. “Didn’t realize you’d taken up the role of court jester.”

Blaise turned toward him, smirking. “Didn’t realize you were interested in comedy.”

“I’m not. That’s why I came over.”

Your gaze lifted slowly from your book, a flicker of amusement dancing in your eyes. You didn’t say anything.

Draco looked at you then, gaze lingering just a second too long, before snapping back to Blaise.

“She doesn’t need an audience,” he added lazily. “She prefers actual intelligent company.”

Blaise raised a brow. “Funny. I thought she could decide for herself.”

Draco’s lips curled into a smirk — one that didn’t reach his eyes.

“She could,” he said, tone icy, “if she were remotely interested.”

Your voice came. “I’m right here.”

Draco’s eyes slid to you, and for the first time in the conversation, something softened. Barely. But you caught it.

“She doesn’t like being spoken for,” you added.

Draco didn’t apologize. Of course he didn’t. But the way his shoulders shifted — the way his jaw flexed and his eyes met yours — told you everything.

He wasn’t angry at Blaise.

He was angry at himself.

Because you were never supposed to matter this much.

Blaise chuckled lowly, pushing off the chair. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Once he was gone, a silence hung in the air. The fire crackled. Draco still hadn’t moved.

You tilted your head. “Jealousy’s not a good look on you.”

He sneered. “Wasn’t jealousy. It was pity.”

You snorted. “Right.”

He looked at you like you were a problem he couldn’t solve. Like you were the only puzzle he actually wanted to understand.

Then, softly — not for anyone else to hear: “I don’t want anyone else trying to figure you out.”

That made you pause.

“Why?” you asked, quieter now.

He didn’t answer. He just stared at the fire, like the words were molten in his mouth.

And then he added, almost bitterly, “Because they’d get it wrong.”

The words echoed in your mind. Partly because they were true and partly because you'd been shocked to hear them out of Draco's mouth. A small tinge of red burned across your cheeks.

You didn’t respond at first — mostly because you didn’t know how. Draco Malfoy wasn’t the type to say things like that. He wasn’t the type to say anything at all if it didn’t serve his image: calculated, superior, untouchable.

But this wasn’t that.

This was something raw, unedited. A quiet confession tucked inside a throwaway comment, and Merlin, did it make your pulse skip.

The firelight danced across his features, casting sharp shadows beneath his cheekbones, flickering in his pale gray eyes. He still wasn’t looking at you, but the silence between you buzzed with a different kind of tension now. Not rivalry. Not snark.

Something deeper. Something real.

“Why would it matter,” you said finally, voice low, “if they got it wrong?”

His jaw clenched.

You didn’t expect an answer. You knew how to play this game — he’d shut down, deflect with sarcasm, say something cruel to keep you at a distance.

But instead, he exhaled slowly and said, “Because you’re not some house trophy to be won over with fake charm and compliments. You’re not like Pansy or any of them.”

Your lips parted slightly, but still, you said nothing.

He turned to you at last, the mask nearly gone — eyes sharp but no longer guarded.

“And maybe I don’t want to share the version of you I know with anyone else.”

That silenced every thought in your head.

Because what could you possibly say to that?

You stared at him and for once, he let you. Let you see everything in his expression. The hint of something softer, vulnerable, real. It was fleeting, a flash of lightning behind storm clouds. But you saw it.

He looked away first, swallowing hard, the usual smugness creeping back into his voice as he added, “Anyway, Zabini’s a halfwit. His eyebrows do more talking than he does.”

You huffed a quiet laugh and just like that, the tension broke.

But the firelight still flickered, and the silence between you wasn’t empty.

Not anymore.

You studied silently with Draco by your side, reading a book. There weren't any more words exchanged. An hour into your study session, your eyes began to get heavy. It was getting late.

Draco analyzed you, the way you stirred in the chair, the way your quill strokes slowed. With a light nudge, he issued an unspoken communication that it was time to go.

The halls were quiet — empty save for the soft, overlapping echoes of your footsteps and Draco’s beside you. The torches burned low, casting golden light against the cold stone walls, throwing long shadows across the floor.

Now, the silence between you was heavy with the weight of things unspoken.

You stopped at a corridor where your paths would usually split, and turned to him.

“I meant what I said earlier,” you murmured, your voice hushed, intimate in the dimness. “About not needing anyone to speak for me.”

Draco leaned against the stone wall, arms crossed, but his gaze was locked on you with a fire that betrayed the casual stance. “I know,” he said, tone quiet. “Doesn’t mean I won’t.”

You arched a brow. “You always have to have the last word, don’t you?”

His lips quirked into something dangerously close to a smirk. “Only when I’m right.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was pounding. The air between you shifted — crackled. He pushed off the wall and took a step closer, close enough that the scent of cedar and firewood on his robes filled your senses.

His voice dropped. “I meant what I said too.”

You blinked. “Which part?”

Draco’s eyes flicked to your lips, then back up again. “All of it.”

The silence returned — but this time, it was electric. He was close now, so close you could feel the warmth radiating off of him, the slow, careful inhale of his breath as if he were fighting against instinct.

Your hand brushed his — barely. His gaze darted down, then back up.

And then, just as he leaned in, your noses brushing lightly, lips within a breath away —

“I do hope I’m not interrupting something.”

Draco stiffened immediately, pulling back like he'd been burned. You turned, wide-eyed, to see your uncle standing not ten feet away in the shadow of a stone archway, arms crossed and expression unreadable — save for the glint of dry amusement in his dark eyes.

“Professor,” Draco said quickly, straightening his posture.

“Draco,” Snape replied coolly, then shifted his gaze to you. “Niece.”

Your eyes widened. “You’re still up.”

“I was merely patrolling,” Snape said smoothly, stepping forward. “It’s well past curfew, in case either of you forgot.”

Draco opened his mouth to speak, but Snape held up a hand.

“I don’t need excuses. I need plausible deniability.”

You blinked. “Wait — what?”

Snape tilted his head slightly, mouth curling into what might’ve been a smirk — if Snape ever actually smirked. “Should anyone ask if I saw two Slytherins lingering suspiciously close in a dungeon hallway, I will, of course, say I saw nothing. Because I wasn’t here. Naturally.”

Draco stared at him, caught between horror and disbelief. “Sir—”

Snape turned, robes sweeping behind him. “Be discreet. And Merlin’s sake, don’t let me catch you actually snogging in public. That’s just tacky.”

He disappeared around the corner without another word.

The silence left in his wake was… something.

You turned to Draco. He was still frozen, lips parted, eyes narrowed after your uncle.

“He’s deranged,” he muttered.

You laughed — really laughed — and Draco’s expression broke into a grin.

You almost swooned. This was a wide smile, the widest, most genuine smile you'd ever seen on Draco's face. His teeth were white, his smile was beautiful. He was just.. Gorgeous. Every girl in Hogwarts had to admit that Draco was attractive. Objectively.

“He didn’t tell us to stop,” you teased.

“He told us not to get caught,” Draco corrected, stepping closer again, voice low and edged with heat. “Big difference.”

And Merlin help you, you almost leaned in again.

But not quite.

Because some things are worth waiting for.

The weeks that followed were blissful. You had truly opened up to each other, gaining the attention of everyone at Hogwarts that had once feared Draco. They'd now noticed that he seemed to be going.. somewhat soft. As soft as you could get for a Malfoy.

He still rolled his eyes at first-years and snapped at Gryffindors for breathing too loudly. Still walked like he owned every corridor he passed through. Still carried that cold, untouchable air like armor. But he didn't seek people out to humiliate them. He wasn't the worst nightmare of anyone entering Hogwarts.

And as for you?

He no longer mocked you in class. In fact, he never had — but now he openly looked for you. Waited for you outside lecture halls. Sat beside you during breakfast, a hand lazily propped under his chin as you spoke about things that would’ve bored him coming from anyone else. His smirk, once cruel, now lingered at the edges of his mouth in ways that were meant for you.

And for the first time, people didn’t fear Draco Malfoy — they envied him.

They watched him laugh at something you whispered in the library, a real laugh that twisted the knife in every girl who’d ever tried to flirt with him and failed. They watched him lean in a little too close, touch your hand like it was instinct. Watched you roll your eyes at him, not like you were annoyed — but like you knew him better than anyone else ever would.

All you two needed was one final push. One final nudge to make the transition into something more.. Official. Something more obvious.

Someone flirting with you.

It happened on a Tuesday.

The library was unusually quiet for that time of day — not that Draco ever truly cared about who was around. You sat across from him at one of the back tables, parchment spread in front of you, a quill twirling lazily between your fingers. He was reading, pretending to focus, but his eyes kept flicking upward to watch you, the corners of his mouth twitching every time you muttered something under your breath.

Then he walked in.

Andrew Whitmore. Ravenclaw. Sixth year. Disgustingly charming in that polished, irritatingly sweet kind of way. Draco had never paid him much attention before — until he saw where Andrew was headed. Straight toward you.

He stiffened slightly, eyes narrowing over the top of his book.

You didn’t notice at first, too caught up in a particularly difficult sentence you were trying to phrase. But you definitely noticed when a shadow fell across your table, and Andrew leaned in just a little too casually.

“Y/N, right?” he asked with a grin, eyes scanning the page in front of you. “Need any help translating that? I’ve got a bit of a knack for Ancient Runes.”

You blinked up at him. “I’m alright, thanks.”

But he didn’t move.

Draco’s fingers twitched.

“I mean, you look like you’ve got it handled,” Andrew went on, his voice lowering. “Just figured I’d offer. Not every day I see someone in here who’s actually worth talking to.”

You smiled, polite but dismissive. Draco recognized that smile. The same one you used with people you didn’t care about. The same one you’d never once given him.

Andrew didn’t take the hint. “Maybe I’ll sit here for a bit? Could use some good company—”

“Seat’s taken.”

The voice was calm, sharp, and unmistakably cold.

Andrew turned, confused, to find Draco Malfoy standing at his full height, arms crossed and jaw tight. His tone wasn’t angry — not yet — but there was something dangerous simmering just beneath it. A warning.

Andrew looked between the two of you. “Didn’t think—”

“You didn’t,” Draco cut in, his words like ice. “Which is your first mistake.”

A thick silence fell over the table.

Andrew cleared his throat, faltering. “Right. Yeah. I’ll, uh—see you around, Y/N.”

He practically bolted.

You raised an eyebrow as Draco slid back into his seat across from you, pretending to pick up his book like he hadn’t just threatened someone into backing off.

“You done marking your territory?” you asked, tone dry but amused.

Draco didn’t look up. “Didn’t realize I needed to.”

You tilted your head, watching him for a moment. “Do you?”

That got his attention.

He met your gaze, his expression unreadable for a long, suspended second. Then:

“I might have to if you keep gaining fanboys from Ravenclaw.”

The silence in the library felt suffocating now. Andrew had retreated, but the air between you and Draco was thick, electric, like something was going to give. His hand still rested on the table, close enough for you to feel the heat from his skin.

You studied him, unable to stop the way your heart hammered in your chest. His eyes flickered over your face, pausing for just a heartbeat on your lips before returning to your eyes. It was enough to make the breath catch in your throat. The space between you felt impossibly small now, as if every word had already been spoken and you were both just waiting for the next move.

“I didn’t think you’d care,” you said quietly, though you already knew the answer. You didn’t need to ask.

Draco’s eyes narrowed just slightly. “I didn’t,” he said, voice low, controlled, but the tension there was undeniable. “But he was getting too close for comfort.”

“Is that how you see it?” you teased, leaning forward slightly.

His lips curled, a flicker of something dangerously close to a grin. “You have no idea.”

Before you could respond, his hand shot out, quick but gentle, curling around your wrist. He didn’t wait for you to pull away — he didn’t give you a choice. His grip was firm but not unkind, guiding you to him with the fluidity of someone who knew exactly what they wanted.

Your breath caught in your throat. You hadn’t expected this — had thought, in the back of your mind, that maybe he was too cold, too guarded to ever do something like this. But the way he pulled you in, close enough to feel the warmth radiating off of him, close enough that his scent enveloped you, shattered that thought entirely.

Draco’s face was inches from yours now, and there was no more teasing. No more distance. Just the silent understanding between you that everything that had led to this moment had been building up, slow and steady, until now.

“I don’t want you to think it’s anything less,” he murmured, his voice like velvet, sending a shiver through you. “I don’t want you to think it’s just a game.”

You didn’t have time to respond, because before you could, he kissed you.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t careful. It was hard, urgent, and all-consuming. His lips pressed against yours with the weight of everything unsaid — everything he’d been holding back, everything that had built up in the months of knowing you. His other hand found the back of your neck, pulling you closer, a low growl of something unspoken vibrating in his chest.

The world outside of that kiss faded. You barely registered the soft shuffle of someone else walking by, too caught up in the heat and the intensity of the moment. You were both aware of the risk, aware of the eyes that might be watching, but neither of you cared. Not when this felt like the moment.

Not when it felt like everything was finally real.

When he pulled back, breathless, his gaze was fierce, intense, and you could see it in his eyes — something had shifted. He wasn’t just the Draco Malfoy everyone feared anymore. He was something else entirely. Something that belonged to you just as much as you belonged to him.

“You’re not getting away now,” he whispered, his voice rough, almost possessive.

You didn’t answer, not right away. You were still reeling from the kiss, your pulse racing. But when you finally found your voice, you let out a quiet, teasing laugh.

“Maybe I like being caught.”

Draco’s eyes flashed with something dangerous — but then, the corner of his mouth lifted into the faintest of smirks.

“I’m counting on it.”

Finally, you felt like you'd fallen into step.

You were Draco Malfoy's partner. It sounded all too meant for you. Draco felt the same.

But to keep you from gaining any more fanboys? He did mark his territory.

The next few days felt different. It wasn’t just the whispered rumors spreading through the hallways or the looks people threw your way. It was the way Draco acted. You'd barely made it out of the library that night when Draco, with his usual arrogant air, tossed his cloak around your shoulders like it was a declaration. A subtle one, but still enough to make everyone aware that you were his.

But it didn’t stop there.

The next morning, when you were heading to Potions, Draco showed up with one of his signature sly smiles, pulling you aside in the corridor and, without warning, slipping a silver chain around your neck — the Malfoy family crest hanging loosely from it.

“You’re wearing this today,” he said, his voice smooth, unyielding. He was still the same Draco — cold and calculating, but with an unmistakable softness when it came to you. “Don't argue with me.”

The weight of the necklace was heavier than it seemed, and as you touched it absently, you couldn't help but notice the way people’s gazes followed the gleam of silver. Eyes that once looked at you with indifferent curiosity now lingered with the sort of admiration (and maybe envy) that only came from one thing: they knew. They all knew now.

As the days passed, it wasn’t just jewelry. It was the subtle possession in how Draco made you wear his jumper on cooler days. You would be walking through the hallways, just talking, and he’d slip it over your head without asking, the dark green knit swallowing you whole. No matter how many times you tried to shrug it off, he insisted, like the damn thing was an extension of him. Every time you looked down at the Malfoy crest stitched into the sleeve, the weight of the unspoken message grew heavier.

And Draco made sure that message wasn’t missed.

During lunch one afternoon, when you and Draco had found a quiet spot near the windows — just the two of you, trying to steal a moment for yourselves — a familiar figure walked by. Cedric Diggory, the ever-dashing Hufflepuff, paused when he saw you and Draco. His gaze lingered on you, the faintest trace of a smile pulling at his lips. You could see the shift in his eyes, the way they softened when he looked at you.

Draco saw it too.

In fact, Cedric had tried you before. Last year, he'd asked you to the Yule ball. Of course you'd politely declined. Parties weren't your thing and Diggory wasn't your type.

Before you could react, Draco’s arm slid possessively around your waist, pulling you closer to him. The action was so smooth, so effortless, that it looked almost casual. But the way his grip tightened slightly, the way his gaze never wavered from Cedric, told a different story.

“Cedric,” Draco drawled, his voice low and laced with mockery. “Still trying to charm my girlfriend? Thought you knew better than to play with fire.”

Cedric blinked, visibly thrown off by the bluntness of Draco’s words. He tried to mask it with a smile, but the tension was palpable. “Just a friendly hello, Malfoy,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender, but his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than Draco liked.

Draco gave a soft chuckle, but there was nothing light about it. “Sure. Friendly.” He turned to you then, pulling you in close and planting a kiss just under your ear, one that left you breathless. “I suppose it is cute when people try.”

The words were subtle — almost playful — but they carried the weight of Draco’s presence. It was a statement, a warning. Cedric’s smile faltered just slightly before he excused himself, clearly out of his depth.

And that was just the beginning.

Later that week, you found yourself in the common room, Draco’s jumper still wrapped around you, the sleeves long enough to cover your hands. You were half-focused on your homework when a familiar face appeared at the edge of your vision. It was Andrew Whitmore — the Ravenclaw boy who had tried to approach you before.

This time, he wasn’t quite as confident.

“Y/N,” he began, voice tentative, glancing at Draco who was lazily lounging in a chair, one leg thrown over the armrest. “You, uh... doing okay? Need help with anything?”

Draco didn’t even look up at first, but you could feel his presence shift. His smirk was already forming, the trademark Malfoy arrogance lacing his words when he finally spoke.

“Andrew Whitmore,” Draco drawled, lifting an eyebrow as he set his book aside, his eyes finally locking onto the Ravenclaw boy. “Still under the delusion that I’m going to let you help her?”

Andrew froze, clearly caught off guard by Draco’s tone. Draco sat up a little straighter, clearly enjoying himself now. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and the edge in his voice deepened.

“You do realize, Whitmore, that helping her with anything would imply a certain... familiarity. Which, I’m sure you know by now, she doesn’t exactly hand out to just anyone.” Draco’s eyes slid to you, his gaze softening for a fraction of a second before he turned back to Andrew. “She’s... a bit more selective than that.”

Andrew looked like he might say something in response, but Draco didn’t give him the chance. Instead, he stood up, casually tossing his jumper’s sleeve over your shoulder, pulling you closer to him with that arrogant, possessive air of his.

“Besides, I doubt Y/N’s really in the mood for anyone right now, hmm?” Draco continued, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “She’s already got a full schedule of my company.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, but it was clear Andrew had heard enough. He mumbled an awkward excuse and quickly backed off, muttering something about needing to go study.

Draco watched him leave, and once Andrew was out of earshot, Draco let out a quiet chuckle, turning back to you. “Honestly, the things I put up with. Can’t even have a conversation in peace without someone thinking they can just waltz in.”

You smiled, a little amused. “You’re awful.”

Draco’s smirk softened into something more genuine, his fingers brushing your cheek. “You love it.”

"I love you. This idiocy just comes with it."

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, the kind of laugh that made your heart flutter just a little more every time. His gaze softened, and for a moment, the usual arrogance melted away, revealing the boy beneath the layers of sarcasm and ice.

“Fair enough,” he murmured, his voice just a hint more vulnerable than usual. “But I’ll admit, I’m rather fond of you, too.”

You could feel his thumb tracing small circles on your skin as he leaned in, his forehead gently resting against yours. It was a simple touch, one that felt like a promise, like the weight of the world had lifted, and it was just the two of you in this quiet little space, away from the rest of the noise.

“I’ve never been good at this,” he admitted, his breath warm against your lips. “But I’m trying. For you.”

Before you could respond, Draco’s lips were on yours, slow and soft, like he had all the time in the world. It was a kiss that didn’t demand anything, but somehow gave everything. His hand cupped your face gently, as if he were trying to hold onto this moment as tightly as he could.

You kissed him back, not with the urgency of someone afraid of losing something, but with the certainty of someone who had already found exactly what they’d been searching for.

When you pulled away, your breaths mingled in the space between you. His eyes were dark with affection, an unspoken promise lingering in them.

“I love you,” he murmured again, his voice barely more than a whisper. “In case you hadn’t noticed.”

You smiled, running a hand through his hair, the warmth of his touch still lingering on your skin. "I noticed."

Draco's lips twitched into that familiar smirk, but this time it was softer, almost shy.

"Good," he said, pulling you in for another kiss, one that was softer, gentler than the last. "Because you're the only person I've probably ever let near my designer jumpers."

You chuckled against his lips, feeling the world fade away around you, leaving nothing but the two of you in your own little bubble, tucked safely away from everything else.

And for once, Draco Malfoy didn’t mind the vulnerability. Because with you, it was okay to let his guard down. With you, he didn’t have to be perfect.

He just had to be himself. And that was enough.

You laughed again, the sound a mix of amusement and affection. "Oh, I see. So, I’m special enough for your jumpers, huh?"

Draco pulled away slightly, his smirk widening with that signature arrogance, but there was a warmth in his gaze that made it all feel different, more personal. “You’re the only one who could even think about getting away with it.”

You arched an eyebrow, a playful challenge in your expression. “You really know how to flatter a girl.”

He chuckled lowly, that familiar edge of sarcasm creeping back into his tone. “It’s the truth, love. No one else gets me, not like you do.”

In that moment, it didn’t matter that you were still wearing his jumper, or that Draco Malfoy —proud, guarded Draco Malfoy— was softening in ways no one could have predicted. All that mattered was the quiet certainty between you, the connection that no one could take away.

And for the first time in his life, Draco Malfoy was okay with that.

[yasministration]

Request: Cedric Diggory x Ravenclaw!fem!reader

Plot: Them being cutesy in the corridors and around campus, but instead of the teachers minding, they coo and cheer for the couple?

(professors I thought of specifically would be McGonagall, Sprout-especially bc Ced is in her house-Trelawney, and even Professor Binns)

No disturbances - Cedric Diggory

People never really had the opportunity to wonder if you were dating or not, because the little (or big) displays of affection between you and Cedric had started out from the second you'd become a couple. Hand holding in the hallways was quite common, especially when walking each other to classes, and shared kisses on the field after a Quidditch victory was inevitable, not a shadow of shyness despite all students and teachers being there to witness the rather intimate moment. Surprisingly, your fellow classmates had a bigger issue with your relationship than the teachers did, gossiping about you no matter how far away you were.

'Did you hear that they've been together for half a year now? I was convinced he'd cheat on her by now. ' or even,

'I swear she's spoken to other boys while they've been together though?'

Despite all the talk from those who knew nothing of your relationship, you continued acting as you usually would, linking arms while leading each other through the crowded hallways and having intimate picnics by the black lake on days where the sun shone bright. Cedric, ever so proud of being able to call you his girlfriend, grins widely at teachers every time they cross you in the halls, though you shyly duck your head away, avoiding the intimidating eye contact with those you respect so much.

It was only one night when you'd been making your way down the halls way passed curfew that you thought you'd definitely lose all your 'turning a blind eye privilege' from the teachers. Clad in your warm pyjamas, you'd been making your way down to the Hufflepuff common room. You'd sighed in relief when you turned the last corner to get to the common room, the risk of bumping into teachers or prefects significantly increased due to how far both common rooms were. It was only when you walked further down the corridor that you saw the two figures approaching you, and you froze. It was too late to try to hide or run.

Right in front of the Hufflepuff common room entrance stood Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout, doing their rounds together for students out of bed. Your eyes widened and your jaw went slack, watching as the two older women realised your intentions. A sly smile made its way onto Professor Sprout's face as she chuckled quietly, Professor McGonagall only raising her eyebrows at you in mock surprise. At that same moment, the entrance to the common room opened, revealing your very own boyfriend standing in sweatpants and a Hufflepuff jumper.

"Oh shit." He whispered, eyes widening at the scene. You laughed awkwardly, looking down at your feet. "I didn't see anything." You heard Professor McGonagall mumble as she turned back around to walk down the corridor. Your head shot up at her comment, confusion overtaking you. Professor Sprout followed her movements, adding "Didn't see what?" Giving you the opportunity to run into the common room, all blood having rushed to your face.

[toothfa-1-ry]

LITTLE MISS DIGGORY

"Is that her?" You whisper as you lean towards the sandy haired boy who was slightly frowing

"Yea" cedric breathed out as he noticed Rita Skeeter and her abomination of a outfit

Your quote un quote bestfriend Cedric diggory was chosen as one of the contestants for the tri wizard competition which lead to being interviewd by a certain witch called Rita Skeeter who had a rather infamous reputation, not the good kind of course

"She seems" your lost for words as you look at her "interesting"

"She's bloody mad, completly lost her marbles" cedric rambles, obviously annoyed as he attempts to block you away from her vision. His light Irish accent suddenly flaring up which only happened when he was uncomfortable

The fact that the usually kind and sweet cedric diggory was calling someone mad, you knew that whatever you had heard of Rita skeeter before, she must have been worser than her rumours

"Don't make eye contact" he whispered

You nodd, quickly turning your head away but it's too late, Rita skeeter had locked eyes with you and a nasty grin forms on her face when she sees cedric with you

"Yoohoo! Cedric!" She cried out in a patronizing sing song voice as she approaches the both of you

You suddenly feel the urge to cling to your books and hide behind cedric

Cedric grimace before he turns around, putting on a forced awkward smile "Rita... I wish I could say it's a pleasure"

"Oh you naughty boy!" Rita's giggles in a high pitch tone "I'm back here again for another interview, a more casual one of course" she says as she ogles between you and cedric

Cedric notices and comes inbetween you and Rita "well shall we go somewhere else than?"

He seriously did not want Rita skeeter among all people to talk to you, God knows what she might write about you. It was already bad enough that Rita had written about him in such a patronizing way

"Oh no" Rita motions cedric to move away "I want to know, who this is" her eyes widen as he looks at you

Cedric inwardly groans, he whispers "I'm really sorry, i didn't want to get you into this"

You nodd, squeezing his arm which seemed to be the wrong thing to do as Rita Skeeter suddenly gasp and her pen begin writing something down

"Oh my your very pretty" Rita came closer to you, her manicured nails now rest on your shoulders "i bet Mr diggory here thinks your very pretty don't you?" She questions cedric

"I mean- well yes" cedric blurts out, his face rather pink with the suddenly confrontation "but I'm not sure why that's relevant right now"

"What about you sweetheart?" Rita questions you

"Cedric and I are good friends" you manage to mutter put before she cuts you in again

"Good friends? Bestfriends? Whats your name dearie?"

You give a confused look as you nodd slowly "im y/n uh l/n and-"

She cuts you off again

"Well do you fancy him? Is this a friends to lovers sort of thing? Ooh now that's something I like" Rita nodds excitedly as her feather pen moves even faster

You notice Cedrics red face with matched yours aswell "Oh i-"

But neither of you can butt in to say anything

"Tell me, how does it feel that your boyfriend" she points at cedric "is in the triwizard competition? Are you happy? Worried? Scared"

Your face goes bright pink "Oh cedric's not my..."

"Y/n and I are good friends" cedric manages to say from underneath the tint of red which clouded his face

"Oh pish posh!" Rita skeeter exclaims as she hit cedric with a pen which made you sneer slightly "you can tell me anything dear! Now tell me how did the both of you start dating?"

"We're not dating-"

"My my... your quite private aren't you" Rita raises her eyebrows as she purses her lips, obviously annoyed at the lack of intell "no worries, ill just have to make up an interesting story"

"Rita i think that's enough for today" Cedric announces, sensing your uncomfortablness

"Oh! But one last question! One last!"

Exasperated cedric sighs as you brace yourself for whatever the last question it may be

"If you had to rate your experience with your boyfriend" she wiggles her eyebrows "ehm.. how much would you rate him?"

Your face flushes a deep crimson, before you can even manage to squeak out a response cedric cuts it off

"Okay that's it" he grabs your hand and rushes off despite Rita Skeeter's protest

"Would you say that he's a good kisser miss y/n? If you don't answer I'm gonna take that as a yes" you could hear Rita skeeter bellow from down the hallway

[kaheilations]

First Time

------------------------------------------------------------

pairing: cedric diggory x m!reader

genre: fluff, smut, romance

warnings: top!Cedric, bottom!reader, dom! Cedric, sub!reader, a lot of kissing

summary: you and your boyfriend, Cedric, sneak out of class to make out and have your first times together

------------------------------------------------------------

Your boyfriend drags you by the hand, racing up the moving stairs to sneak you into the Hufflepuff common room. The two of you skipped your herbology class, knowing the room would be empty, all of the other students in class.

He brings you over to his dormitory, taking off his robe, leaving him in his white button up and tie, and he sits on the bed. You take a moment to observe the space that your other half occupies when he's, unfortunately, not with you. You take note of the books on the nightstand, where his clothes lay, and the green blanket on his bed that doesn't match the Hufflepuff-colored room.

"What are you doing, babe?" he smirks out, pulling you close to him by the arm and bringing you into a quick smooch. You pull back, and, a mere inch away from his face, stare Cedric in his eyes, smiling and giggling almost like a lunatic, because you cannot believe that the Heartthrob of Hogwarts is who you - and only you - call your boyfriend.

"What's so funny?" he asks in response to your giggle, matching grin forming on his face.

"I just love you so much" you reply, pushing yourself forward to greet him in a wet, sloppy tongue kiss. Your saliva mixes, tongues collide as you press him against the window behind his headboard. It's a good thing that the common rooms are so high up, or else someone would be able to see the two of you from outside. Not that either of you would've minded that, though.

You passionately kiss for a few minutes, only stopping to breathe before you break away. Cedric looks at you with big, wet, puppy dog eyes, like he desperately needs more. He opens his mouth to speak but is cut off when you begin to nape and suck on his neck, forcing a sort of moan out of the taller man. You pull back, revealing a tender, bright red hickey on your boyfriend's neck.

Turning around, you slump down and rest your head on your boyfriend's shoulder, ridiculously smiling at the fact that you've marked him for everyone to see tomorrow, when suddenly you catch Cedric adjusting the waistband of his pants.

"I saw that!" you exclaim, half-joking. "Are you seriously hard right now, you perv?"

"I, um... maybe?" He responds, turning beet red from embarrassment. "You're just so hot and so good at kissing, I can't help it..."

"Well then..." you reply, sliding your hand up his shirt to rub his toned abdominal. "Maybe," you turn your head and lightly kiss his jawline, "maybe it's time we do it... make love".

Cedric turns his body so your faces are opposite another and gently places his hands behind your head to pull you into a kiss. "Are you sure? Are you ready?"

"Of course, babe," you reply. The truth is, internally you're desperate to make this step. After almost a year of dating, the two of you had never gone past giving eachother handys in the bathroom or occasionally sucking one another off if you were ever able to sneak off for half an hour. "I'm ready if you are."

"It's just... I don't really know what to do. I've never done it with a boy. Or anyone, really." He looks down, almost ashamed, and you cup the brunette's face. "It's okay, me neither. We can figure it out together."

He smiles, and puts a hand around your neck, pulling you in to a sloppy kiss. With your eyes closed, you begin to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt, mildly struggling because you've overtaken by the make-out session. Cedric grabs you by the waist, sitting you on top of his lap, without breaking the kiss, and begins to undress you from your shirt as well. The two of you, shirtless, continue making out, your tongues dancing, while you begin to grind on your boyfriend's still-clothed crotch, causing him to break away and let out a stifled moan.

"Fuck, baby," he says between moans. "I need you so bad."

"Say less," you respond, moving your kisses down his sternum, to his chest, and taking the time to kiss around his pink nipples, all the while you're unbuckling his belt. He throws his head back, wincing at the pleasure as you kiss his toned body and pull down his trousers and underpants, revealing his rock-hard cock. You grip his cock, which was around 7 inches and thick, the perfect size, at the base and lick the underside of it, circling the head with your tongue.

"Fuuuuckkkkk-" he moaned, gripping your hair but not pulling.

You felt him stiffen up more as you put his tip in your mouth and begin slowly throating his length. With every motion, you feel his balls twitch, and he whimpers at a whispering volume. You knew he was close, and were determined to egg him on as long as possible. You begin to stroke his wet, saliva-covered cock, flicking your wrist at the tip when you come across it. Cedric starts moaning heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his hips thrusting into your hand. You feel his cock pulse and twitch, desperate to cum, and remove your hand, ruining his orgasm.

"Babe, fuck, I-" You cut him off. "You can't cum until you fuck me, baby." Cedric, with puppy dog eyes, pleads: "Baby can I please fuck you now?"

"Not yet," you say, crawling up to him to leave a kiss on his cheek, "I need you to prep me first." "Prep?" He asks inquisitively. "I'm not a girl, you can't just stick it in with no preparation."

"I see..." he says, grabbing you in the crevice of your armpits. "May I?" You nod and he flips you over, so you are on your back and your head is towards the foot of the bed. Cedric sucks on his fingers, coating them with clear, thick saliva. His cold fingers make contact with the outside of your hole, causing you to wince and tense up. Slowly, he pushes his middle finger inside of you, making your back arch. He romantically shoves it in and out of you before sticking another in and making a scissor motion to loosen you up. Eventually, he presses up against your g-spot, causing you to release a loud echo-y moan. "There, baby? Does that feel good?" the brunette asks seductively. Overcome by a feeling of pleasure, the most you can stifle out is a "mmmfgh, y-yes, baby, m-more..."

Cedric continues fingering you, your own cock becoming the hardest it has ever been and leaking a large amount of precum. You reach down and grip his other hand, which has been resting near the side of your body on the bed, and arch tour back as you feel your climax about to occur. But, your boyfriend pulls his fingers out before you can and slides up to your ear- "You can't cum until I fuck you, remember?"

You let out a moan as he kisses you and begins to position himself on top of you, making eye contact with you the entire time, only turning you on more.

Suddenly, you're brought back to the day he started to call you his. It was after the Triwizard Tournament, and, although Cedric had not won, he made it out alive. You had spent the duration of the tournament helping him figure out the challenges present, cheering him on when he fought the dragon, you being the one who had suggested he take a bath when he couldn't figure out the enigmatic egg. You spent time in the library trying to find a spell book that could help him figure out a way to breathe underwater, and you hyped him up before the final challenge.

A week or so following the end of the tournament, Cedric dragged you out of dinner to talk privately in the hallway.

"Is everything okay?" you said, with genuine concern in your tone. As much as you liked him, he was your friend first and you were focused on making sure he was okay, because that's what friends are for.

"Listen," he said, "ever since the tournament ended I haven't been able to- I keep having dre-" he sighs, unable to say what he wants to. "I keep thinking, what if had been you under the water during the second challenge instead of Cho?"

"It wasnt though. But what-"

"Not the point," he cuts you off. "And whenever I would think that I would get this weird feeling in my stomach and I just-" He loosens his necktie like there's something obstructing his airway. "I just realized it means-"

"What, Cedric? What are you-"

He cut you off by grabbing the back of your neck and pulling your mouth to meet his. "It means that I like you, y/n, like, a lot," he says retracting. "And I don't know what- I've just never felt this way about a boy before." His cheeks were flushed rose, Cedric clearly feeling somewhat embarrassed.

You pulled him into a warm embrace, rubbing his back. "It's okay. I like you too, like, a lot" you say, playfully mocking him.

"Really?" he said, his chin resting on your shoulder. "Does that mean... do you wanna... would you be my boyfriend?"

"Of course," you said, pulling him out from the hug. "We should head back to dinner now, people are probably starting to worry, boyfriend." You put an arm around his shoulder and walked back to the dining hall, a big toothy grin on your face, his cheeks redder than they've ever been.

And now, you two were here, you laying on your back, in his bed, your boyfriend hovering above you, his necklaces drooping over your neck, the tip of his cock poking at the entrance of your hole.

"Are you ready?" he asks, stroking the hair by your ear. "Always," you respond. He grabs the base of his cock and slides it inside of you, him letting our a satisfied grunt and you a muffled moan. Slowly but surely, he pushes himself in and out of you, hips colliding with your ass repeatedly. He lowers himself down and starts to kiss you as he fucks you, the both of you moaning into each other's mouths. His hand rests on yours and you grip it, holding eachothers hands passionately as he fucks you.

Suddenly, you let go and arch your back, as his cock pushes against your g-spot. You let out a long moan, and he begins to leave a hickey on your neck. The pleasure feels so good, you can feel your hole tighten around his big dick, making him harder. Cedric stops sucking on your neck and starts heavily breathing into your jaw, letting you know he's close. He continues pounding inside of you, brushing against your prostate while your own cock stiffens and twitches. "Cedric- I'm-" Unable to get the words out, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and tap on his back to announce your climax. You let out a grunt as ropes of white cum plait your chest, your hole tirelessly convulsing and tightening, which only helps him get closer too. With one last pump, he whimpers into your ear and his cock twitches, releasing a huge, hot load inside of you.

"Holy shit, babe." He says, pulling out and laying next to you. "That was the best I've ever felt." He pulls you towards him and whispers in your ear: "I love you."

"I love you too," you say, taking it all in before the two of you eventually have to clean up and return to your daily activities.

------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: hi guys i've actually developed such a huge celebrity crush on Cedric/Robert Pattinson in general it's generally starting to negatively affect me but this man is so mf FINE! i hope you enjoy this one, it's been my favorite out of all the ones i've written (incl. drafts) 😇 lmk if you like it, leave a follow, + as always suggest more fic ideas!

[fayedintoyou]

can you make a pt 2 to lady may like your friends or someone else catches you and cedric kissing in the hallway and you have to get to your next class or to dinner or smth like that

strawberry wine

A/N: naturally this is the request to bring me out of writing hibernation. yes because i love my baby cedric. this serves as a second part to this, but it can also be read standalone!

Pairing: Cedric Diggory x Fem!Grumpy!Hufflepuff!Reader

Summary: No thing defines a man like love that makes him soft. 1.2k words

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, sunshine x grumpy, banter, two dumb idiots in lolololoove

You knew why someone like Cedric had been invited to this dinner, but as he drags you up to the sixth floor you can't help but wonder why someone like you might be. Especially with your fingers so tenderly laced together. Just right the way his pulse presses to yours.

What's a slug club anyway. Some gathering of generations of greatness. It makes sense that a name like Cedric Diggory would make the list: star Hufflepuff Seeker, Triwizard runner-up, not to mention a charmer even without a wand. But you'd been devising reasons why Slughorn might believe you'd go on to become some famous—or, perhaps infamous—witch.

"Quit fretting, you'll tire yourself out before the tea's served," Cedric coos, cresting the top of the stairs and tugging you close behind. He whips around suddenly with a dashing bright smile on his gentle face.

"I know," you grumble, "just can't help but... wonder? It sounds silly, but what if Slughorn made a mistake—"

"You're right, it does sound silly, so I'll spare you the embarrassment of continuing." He turns you round, whisking you into a nook along the hall on the way to the office where the dinner is to be held.

You gaze at him in the dim winter light, fighting a shiver when his fingers brush an eyelash from your cheek.

"If we run, we'll make it back to the dormitories before anyone notices," you whisper. You're all butterflies at the suggestion, knowing he'll be disappointed. He's only ever wanted what was best for you. And since you accepted his romantic pursuits, you've become his full-time responsibility.

"Or we can walk into that room, enjoy quiet conversation, and then leave having earned social connections and a few more people who know I'm yours entirely."

You roll your eyes, but your smile betrays you.

"You're so," you groan, grabbing his waist and snarling, "good! Can't you misbehave or act miserably or even speak poorly of someone just once?"

Just then, his eyes catch the light. A fleeting flicker, really. A rogue candle flame in the playful glint of his gaze, but you catch it, and he leans closer, caging you against the wall.

"Depends on your idea of misbehaving," he whispers.

"I've a sneaky feeling you have your own ideas, Diggory."

His heart flutters at the temptation in your voice, in your warmth, in your hands curled into his waist. Like the first time he ever kissed you, he leans close again, a hitch in his breath when his lips finally meet yours in a spark. From there, it's all muscle memory and the tandem beat of your hearts. He stops his hands from slipping any lower down your pretty dress. The same one he zipped up the curve of your back not an hour ago.

What he'd give to misbehave like that. Here. In the face of responsibility and important arrangements. To misbehave for your sake, just because you begged. Asked, really, but he'd drop everything just the same if it was only a vague suggestion. If he could somehow read your mind, he'd bend to your every whim and you'd never have to utter a word.

In losing track of himself, he sighs. Right into the softness of your mouth because he knows you know how he likes your fingers twisted in his soft, chestnut hair. You do just that and grin when he grows noisy like you knew he would.

"Hello?" A curious, soprano voice calls from the stairwell.

"Shit," you hiss. You pull away when his resilience won't let him, the butt of your skull meeting the hard stone with a thud. "Ow."

"Are you hurt?" he whispers, ushering you further into the cranny and cradling your head in his palm. Your fingers hold his wrist and you chuckle at the sheen of his wet mouth in the firelight. He presses his sure palm to your lips to muffle the raucous sound. "Merlin's Beard, you've gone loopy. I'll heal you with a kiss!"

"Is someone there?" The voice whines again.

His lips only serve to make you cackle harder into the darkness, it's no help that he's grinning now, too. If that voice belongs to a ghoul or a vengeful spirit, they'll have to answer to your wrath before they're allowed to pass. Though, as of now, your wrath is characterized by a fit of giggles and sighs at the mercy of his mouth.

Footsteps clack down the hall, nearing your compromising position in the dark. The sound rings in your ears until you're forced to press him deeper into the nook, leaving yourself exposed to the soft light save for your arm, which he is lovingly latched to.

"Oh!" The girl warbles, taking a step back when she finally sees you. "It's you."

You recognize her as Ginny Weasley, you'd opposed her many times on the pitch. She looks fairly put together. Lovely, you suppose, not scowling or drenched in sweat the way most Quidditch games end. You're not so sure you have the same effect, dizzy and flustered as you are. Cedric's fingers squeeze yours from his place in the shadows.

"Yes, It's me!" you chirp, "Here I am!" It's like some spirit has possessed you. Some spirit under heavy influence of recreational drugs and endless confections maybe.

"Right," she says, nodding awkwardly and peering into the darkness behind you which traces his fingers over your knuckles and bows to kiss each one. You ought to smack the darkness upside the head for his thorough display of misbehavior. "We should probably go inside, or we'll be late."

"Oh, Merlin—must've lost track of time. I'll catch you inside, I just have something I need to..." you sigh, wiggling your hand out of his featherlight grip and perching it on your hip "I'll just be a minute."

"Alright. I'll let them know you're just...?"

"Getting fresh air!"

"Getting fresh air. Right," Ginny says, backing away towards the office door with a tight-lipped smile. Once the door bangs shut again, you draw Cedric into the light with a scowl to rival hellfire.

It makes his tummy turn with excitement. Makes him feel boyish and fresh and giddy. He can't decide whether he'd like to ravish you or let you ravish him. Either way, he's lucky like shiny pennies or rain on your wedding day. Which reminds him, but that's a story for another day. His soul is solidly and irrevocably tethered to yours whether you accept a metal band on your finger or not. Another day.

"Diggory!" you shout, and he catches your hand as it flies toward his shoulder. He's smiling, laughing at your expense. You think you ought to punish his awfully handsome face with some sort of kiss. An eye for an eye, as they say.

"Getting fresh air? Is that really the first thing that came to your mind?" he says through his laughter, drawing you in by the hips, “I think I should tell you now that the nearest window is at the complete opposite end of the hall!"

"If only I hadn't been distracted—"

But you're bested again by his large, warm hands spread across your lower back. And his smile tempting you. He could get anything he ever wanted with that kind of smile, drawn up at the corners and dimpling his rosy cheeks. Curse him and the tiny flakes of gold flowing through his bloodline.

"You were saying?"

"Nothing! We're late," you mutter, face hot and fingers tight as he's dragged across the way to the door. And as the heavy hinges squeal open, he thinks he'd like to misbehave for you more often so long as you'd string him along forever.

masterlist

[midnitemarauderz]

you are in love | cedric diggory x fem!reader (part 1)

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Cedric was content with what he had. He was prefect, quidditch captain and the unspoken partner of yours. He wouldn't want to risk a thing with you because everything is so good as it is. But when other students are thrown into the equation, at the end of the day, is he truly yours?

warnings: two dummies in love, reader is a Gryffindor

word count: 2.5k

a/n: This is my first fic published so I'm nervous!! But I'm going to try to make multiple parts for this one because it was just getting too long and I have so many ideas for Cedric (bc we were robbed!) Also not proofread! ₊˚⊹♡

Fred pushed the list of self made “Prettiest Girls at Hogwarts” in the new first years’ faces. The tiny moving portraits of the Hogwarts girls looked a little silly in the first years’ minds but the twins insisted that pictures solidify their case.   

“These are who you lot should be aiming for,” he stated with confidence, utterly prideful of the list, “aside from y/n of course, she’s off limits.” 

“Off limits? She said she didn’t have a boyfriend while she toured us though?” a small first year girl chirped. The twins exchanged a knowing look before chuckling slowly. 

“The beautiful Gryffindor prefect, my little unknowing friends, is off limits because ah, right on time as usual” George dramatically cocked his head in your direction.  

You had been eating your breakfast alone quite peacefully when you felt someone in yellow dawned robes slip into the open seat beside you. 

“Cedric Diggory, Hufflepuff prefect, quidditch seeker-“ 

“And captain” George sang. 

“And just all around dream boy. All the girls think he’s bloody fit.” Fred concluded. 

“He has kind of an unspoken dibs on y/n. Has had one since last year when they became prefects. No one has even tried to make any advances on her cause of it.” 

“Why’s that?” the first years were now all huddled close to the twins, listening with intense interest. 

Fred rolled his eyes, “because look at the bloke!” A couple of students from neighbouring tables looked curiously in the direction of the loud proclamation. Looking around he leaned in closer to whisper, “Rumour has it he’s planning to put his name in for the Triwizard Tournament this year too. He’s as fit they come!” 

“Not to mention he’s so bloody nice that you can’t even hate the bloke for being so perfect.” George finished as the rest of the table nodded along, absorbing the precious information. 

“He’s not perfect you know.” Everyone whipped their head to see Hermione chiming in, not even looking up from her books. 

“If he was the dream boy you all say he is, they would’ve been together by now. Personally, I think he’s too comfortable for his own good.” 

“What’d you mean by that Hermione?” Fred asked. 

She shut her book with a thud and sighed, “Yes he’s attractive in all ways, but how long do you reckon he’s going to keep stringing her along like that? He’s been flirting with her for as long as he’s known her but won’t do anything about it. It’s sad really.” 

The twins paused while exchanging confused looks, not understanding what was so sad about the two perfect prefects’ relationship. 

“Ugh, boys!” Hermione, exasperated, gave up and opened the thick novel to continue her literature. 

It’s not like Cedric didn’t like you. He liked everything about you, but Hermione was right, he was comfortable with how things were. He wasn’t cocky, not in the slightest, but he was always far from worried when it came to you and other guys at the school. Everyone knew about you two, so he’s never been challenged for your attention. He in all honesty, guiltily enjoyed the lack of complication that the two of you had when it came to your relationship status. There wouldn’t be anything to lose if he didn’t start anything, so he stayed in his comfort with you. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“Morning y/n!” Cedric’s presence instantly made you feel relaxed and warm. 

“It’s such a pleasure seeing you here at my house’s table this morning Diggory.” you teased. It wasn’t completely unnatural for Cedric to join you at the Gryffindor table, but he usually felt that as a prefect, sitting at his own house table was almost a requirement. 

“I came bearing quite honourable and exciting news y/n,” he was beaming, so excited that it seemed like he was going to jump out of his seat, “I’ve decided to do it this year. I’ve officially made up my mind that I’m going to throw my name out for the Triwizard Tournament.” 

He was ecstatic, to say the least, and it was difficult for you to match his energy as you had just heard the worst news you could’ve expected from him. The Tournament has had students die while participating, so it wasn’t surprising that you didn’t want the boy you cared so much about to have a chance at it. 

He caught onto your uncertainty fairly quickly; you were obviously smiling but it didn’t reach your eyes. He let out a breath and carefully reached for your hand. 

“I know that you may feel hesitant about it but believe me, I know the risks but there is so much for me to gain from this experience. So please trust in me y/n.” his pleading eyes were too difficult to resist. 

“I do, I do trust you Cedric,” you mustered as much support as you could in that moment, “the Goblet would be stupid not to choose such a fine competitor.” Your words seemed to satisfy Cedric as he jumped out of his seat, gave you a quick kiss atop of your head and sped off to the Hufflepuff common rooms. 

He had made his mind up and the only thing you could possibly do was to try to hex that stupid over-gloried cup in your mind as you prayed to Dumbledore for Cedric’s name not to be pulled.  

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

The news that students from other schools were coming to Hogwarts excited the masses. It wasn’t every day they got to see such new faces. Especially faces as attractive as the Beauxbaton and Durmstrang students. 

Everyone was bursting with excitement in the Great Hall, awaiting anxiously for the foreign students to arrive. You on the other hand were busy glancing at Cedric who was chatting happily with his housemates. 

“You’re staring you know.” Hermione’s deadpan voice made your head turn to face her, your eyes lingering just a second longer on the Hufflepuff table. 

“Honestly y/n, we have some of the greatest wizarding students coming in for a tournament that only happens every five years and your focus is on Diggory? Merlin y/n if anything, focus on the OWLs instead.” Hermione wasn’t annoyed, but instead truly baffled as to how you could easily ignore such a large celebration for one boy. 

You held up your hands in defense, but before you could retort, Dumbledore had already started introducing the new guests. 

The vision of blue overwhelmed your senses and you were stunned for a second, only being snapped back to reality by the hollering of the surrounding boys. You shifted in your seat in an attempt to see Cedric’s reaction to the Beauxbaton girls, but the rowdiness of the male students blocked your vision. Sinking back in your seat pouting, you wondered if Cedric was enjoying this as much as the other boys were. I mean, Ron was practically drooling. You didn’t have much time to sulk over the issue as you got simultaneously shoved on both sides by Hermione and Ginny. You craned your neck to see what was causing this female commotion. 

“Oh Merlin y/n, it’s Viktor Krum! And he’s even better up close!” Ginny whispered excitedly. You stared at the older boy not really impressed but you giggled with Ginny nonetheless, feeling left out of the Viktor-Krum-is-so-handsome festivities that were happening at the table. 

From across the grand path of new students, Cedric stared at you as you giggled and whispered with Ginny. Following your line of sight, his eyes were met with the stiff, soldier-like, famous Viktor Krum. Groaning, he hung his head in his hands as the noises of the Great Hall faded in his ears. He was beginning to think, maybe he was, in fact too cocky when it came to you. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Your friends were whispering excitedly in the courtyard when you had joined them. 

“What’s got you lot so excited?” you asked while squeezing to sit between Hermione and Ginny on the ledge. 

“Viktor Krum! What else?” Ginny chirped excitedly. Just at the mention of his name, the other girls squealed in pure bliss. You observed your young friends’ excitement happily. You hadn’t had much time to observe the new Hogwarts guests, as the reality of Cedric putting his name into the goblet this year became more and more clear to you. A warm hand delicately tapped your shoulder from behind you, breaking you from your worries temporarily, and you looked up and behind to see Cedric standing behind you while giving you his most infamous, heart-stopping smile. 

“Ladies” he nodded to the group of girls in acknowledgement before bringing his full attention to you. Content, you leaned your head back into his chest as you looked up at the boy who seemed to be radiating sunshine. 

“Cedric! What are you doing here?” you were beaming. He looked like honey. You couldn’t really describe it, but he was just so warm and so sweet. Beautiful really.  Especially in the courtyard sun. 

“I thought you could perhaps lend me your potions books for today?” he grinned lopsidedly at you as you sighed and pulled out the heavy book. How could you ever say no to this boy? 

“You’re the champion of my heart y/n, you know that?” you laughed when he clutched his heart with his free arm. Your heart bubbled with warmth. You let yourself bask in the feeling only for a moment when Ginny moved to head back to the common rooms first. Feeling rather amorous, you told her you would meet her back there soon. You wanted to share your bubbly feelings with someone and Ginny always loved listening to it. 

“Not just your heart Diggory.” Hermione teased quietly seeing that you were distracted with Ginny for a moment. She gestured Cedric towards a pair of Durmstrang students. One in particular seemed to be taking quite an interest in you. As the Durmstrang boy kept glancing at you, Cedric’s hand on your shoulder unconsciously became a little stiffer and he pulled you a little closer. 

Cedric then bent down to reach your ear and whispered lowly, “I really do appreciate it y/n. You’re not only the champion of my heart but also the one who holds my mind, body and soul in all completion.” The cheesiness of his words had you giggling. You knew he didn’t truly mean what he was saying, but the light tinge of pink on your cheeks was evident. 

Stretching back up to stand Cedric held his gaze on the Durmstrang boy, feeling rather confident and accomplished as he watched the boy’s friend pat him on the back consolingly as they walked away. 

“Oh, Merlin! I forgot that I told Ginny I’d meet her in the common room!” you frantically gathered your things and hollered rushed goodbyes. “Don’t forget to return my potions book Cedric!” you reminded and he chuckled lightly to himself in response. 

As your sporadic figure grew smaller in the distance, Hermione turned to face Cedric. “You know Diggory, every guy at Hogwarts may know of your guys’ relationship, but the ones at Durmstrang don’t.” Hermione stated matter-of-factly, making Cedric’s grin falter. 

“What’s that supposed to mean Granger?” Frustrated, Hermione groaned, “It means that although the boys at Hogwarts don’t fancy y/n, that doesn’t mean that the boys at Durmstrang won’t. You can’t pull that kind of stunt again with every Durmstrang boy she comes in contact with. Godric, boys are so dim sometimes!” she huffed as she turned on her heel to leave. 

Cedric rubbed the back of his neck, feeling quite sheepish for being caught in his rather childish act. Hermione was right though, he wouldn’t be able to keep every single guy away from you. So what was he supposed to do? 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

The night of the choosing of names came all too fast for you. You knew he put in his name. You knew he really wanted this. And for some reason, you felt like you knew he would be picked. This weighed heavily on your mind and you honestly could not for the life of you, pay attention to who the other two victors were. 

The paper flew out and Dumbledore caught it. The dread in your stomach increased to a nauseating level, the chatter of the students ringing in your ears and then the room went quiet. It wasn’t actually quiet but suddenly you weren’t able to hear the cheers of your peers as you watched the boy you yearned for so dearly, walk through the aisles in celebratory fashion. Your head started spinning, how many students had entered their names? What were the odds? How was it possible that the one student, the one student that you couldn’t risk being out in that tournament, had gotten picked? 

Cedric was on top of the world at that moment. He wasn’t too interested in becoming legendary or glorified through the Tournament but was simply elated to bring pride to the Hufflepuff House. He would be lying though, if he said that he would gladly take on the glory if it meant you would see him as such. Thinking of you, he searched quickly for your head in the crowd. When he finally spotted you, his grin widened but as he saw your fallen and disconnected expression he grew concerned and tried to move his way through the crowd to your spot. Unfortunately, it was a lost cause as the Goblet erupted once more and the wave of confused students swept Cedric further away from you. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“Krum’s got a yes!” Cedric turned his attention away from his house tablemates to the rowdy group of Durmstrang boys that were chirping excitedly. 

“Who’s the lucky woman Viktor? I mean half of this school wants to be your date to the Yule Ball! You have to tell us who you ended up asking!” the boys leaned in eager to hear more about Viktor’s proposal. 

“Who else, I asked the pretty Gryffindor I said I would ask.” he replied shortly, seemingly unamused by his friends. 

“Bloody hell, he’s asked y/n!” Cedric whipped his head around to the first-year Hufflepuff who had also turned to listen in. Cedric’s facial expression dropped. 

Glancing at Cedric nervously one of the older Hufflepuffs questioned the girl, “How in Merlin’s Beard would know that? Krum didn’t even say that he had asked y/n.” 

“It’s obvious!” she smiled as she hurriedly reached into her pocket and fished out a piece of paper. 

“Prettiest…Girls…At…Hogwarts” one of the Hufflepuffs read aloud slowly. Unbeknownst to you, the twins have not only been solidifying their list with the Gryffindor first years, but ALL the first years. 

“Look!” she pointed to your tiny moving portrait on the paper. 

“It says right there: y/n, 6th year, Gryffindor. If Viktor Krum had been talking about a pretty Gryffindor, it had had to be her. She’s a prefect, he would absolutely go for her!” the tiny girl smiled proudly at her findings as if she had cracked a hard case. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Sitting alone in the Hufflepuff common room, Cedric was deep in thought. 

Had Viktor Krum really asked you to the ball? Had you really said yes? He knew he hadn’t asked you at all but he had assumed it was only natural that the two of you would’ve gone together. Right..?

The more he questioned you and himself the more miserable he became.

[deathilys]

cedric diggory x male reader headcanons

he's very oveprotective, but not in a toxic way, he always worries about you no matter what.

he loves showing you off to everyone

you liked him first, but he noticed you liked him quickly

he kissed you first and he's an amazing kisser

he LOOOVESSS physical touch, rubbing your back, his thumb on your lips

he's amazing at comforting you when you're upset

youre his first priority, whenever he has news, youre the first person he tells

he's bisexual and he always turns down girls who ask him out.

hes very loyal.

he loves to pick you up and kiss you

he gives you all sorts of kisses (forehead kisses, lips, hands etc)

he always reassures you about anything

he loves to call you "my prince".

he also loves calling you pretty boy, darling, my love etc.

he and his friends get into multiple fights with homophobic year 7's who dare to say anything about you

he loves cuddling and he's always the bigger spoon (ofc)

you occasionally sleep in the same bed in the same dorm and he kisses you to wake you up for classes.

he takes you to somewhere quiet when you're overwhelmed

[ambitiouspotions]

GOING STEADY | CEDRIC DIGGORY | HEADCANONS

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

tells you terrible jokes just to see your smile

will kiss you in public to make sure everyone knows that you are taken

makes you wear his quidditch jersey when he plays a match; he says it gives him “extra luck”

constantly is giving his clothes to you because he likes the way they look on you better

is embarrassed by other’s thinking he’s attractive because he only wants compliments from you

will never deny his love for you; he will legitimately go to the tallest balcony on the castle and scream it

his face will light up the moment he sees you even if he has had an awful day

you make him so head over heels in love that he is a blabbering mess and trips over his words instead of his normal confidence

love notes, flowers, sweets, you name it, he is constantly bringing you something to show his affection

think old romance: opening doors, planning dates, walking you to and from class, walking closet to the road; no matter what he does it

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☽ ◯ ☾₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

pictures found on pinterest, edits made by AMBITIOUSPOTIONS are mushed together on canva

[sunburnhurts]

Odd Behavior || Cedric Diggory x fem!Reader

Summary: Cedric Diggory is usually good with flirting with girls, but when it comes to Y/n, he's not very confident like usual. Cedric and Y/n are at the same party, but he's too nervous to do anything about approaching Y/n.

Words: 966

All My Stories

Cedric stands in the Hufflepuff Common room, surrounded by his friends. His friends are all laughing at something, but Cedric wasn't listening to anything his friends were saying. His focus was on a friend group that was standing across the room. The friend group included Y/n and her other friends. Y/n wasn't a Hufflepuff, but was still invited to the Hufflepuff party. The party was something random some people pulled together, it was supposed to be only Hufflepuffs, but people invited their friends from other houses.

One of Cedric's friends notice Cedric wasn't paying attention, so he nudged Cedric's arm to get his attention. Cedric turned his head to his friend, but kept his eyes on the girl he was staring at. "Hm?" Cedric hummed.

"Yo, what are you looking at?" His friend asked, trying to follow his gaze.

"Oh- nothing." Cedric says, looking away from Y/n and putting his eyes on his friend.

"No, not nothing, is it that group of girls back there?" His friend asks, trying to spot what girl Cedric was looking at.

"Uh, yeah." Cedric says as he looks back at Y/n. He sees Y/n's friend group burst out in laughter, he sees Y/n's beautiful smile. The corner of his lip slightly lift up seeing her happy.

"Is it that Gryffindor girl? Shoot whats her name.." Cedric's friend says, trying to remember her name.

"Y/n." Cedric responds.

"Ah, right, Y/n. Go talk to her, man."

Cedric looks at his friend with a confused look. He shakes his head at his friend and says, "No way."

"Why not? You've talked to girls before!" Cedric's friend says, trying to be loud enough over the loud Common Room.

"Yeah but-" Cedric pauses and looks over to Y/n. "not like Y/n."

"What are you saying, man? Go talk to her! It wouldn't hurt!" Cedric's friend says, looking over to the group of girls. "I didn't think I would live to see the day Cedric Diggory is scared to talk to a girl!" His friend laughs.

"I'm not scared! I'm just, I don't know." Cedric replies, looking over to his friend.

"What is so different about her and all the other girls you've talked to?"

"She like, intimidating but in a good way, you know?" Cedric embarrassingly admits.

"Man, how long have you been scared to talk to this girl?"

"Since like, 3rd year?"

"Cedric! You need to talk to her!" Cedric's friend says as the 2 boys look back over to Y/n's friend group. One of Y/n's friends look over to the 2 boys, seeing they are looking at Y/n, so she nudges her.

She whispers in Y/n's ear something, making Y/n turn her attention to the two boys staring. Cedric's friend looks back at Cedric as Cedric continues to look at the girl. Y/n furrows her eyebrows at Cedric, tilting her head slightly in confusion with a slight smirk. Cedric's face turns slightly red, he didn't know what to do. He smiles at the girl and raises his eyebrows at her.

Y/n smiles at the boy, then turns her attention back to her friends. Cedric's friend slaps Cedric's arm, making Cedric look back over at him. "Now you have to talk to her, man."

Cedric couldn't build up the courage to talk to her, he wasn't sure why. His friend was right, he usually was good with talking to girls. It's like all his experience of talking to girls has been thrown out the window and it's a fresh start now. It's true, he had his eye on Y/n since 3rd year, they've had classes together, but they've never interacted before.

"I feel like I just blew my shot." Cedric admits, embarrassed.

"No way! That was just the start, look her friends are telling her to go talk to you!" Cedric's friend says, looking at the group of girls once again. It was true, Y/n's friends were hyping Y/n up to talk to the boy, saying how it's obvious Cedric is interested in her.

"He's literally looking at you right now again!" One of Y/n's friends shout a little too loud. Cedric and his friend heard this and looked at each other and laughed.

"See?" Cedric's friend says proudly.

"Yeah yeah, I think I'm gonna go to bed or something, I need good sleep for the Quidditch game tomorrow." Cedric says as he starts walking over to the dorm area.

Once Y/n decides to talk to Cedric, she turns away from her friends and starts walking over to where Cedric and his friend were. When she sees Cedric's friend standing alone, she gives him a confused look. Cedric's friend laughs and point to Cedric, who is walking away. She nods her head and smiles at the friend, silently thanking him.

Y/n waits to call out to Cedric once they are alone. When they are in an empty hallway, Y/n says, "You were really going to leave without talking to me?"

Cedric hears Y/n's voice, making his heart flutter. He turns around and smiles at the girl, "My mistake."

"Correct." Y/n says as she stops walking in front of the boy. "You scared of me?" Y/n laughs and waits for the boys answer.

"Would it be bad if I said a little?" Cedric says with a smirk and raised eyebrows.

"I'm not scary, Diggory!" Y/n exclaims, nudging his arm with her fist. "Maybe you're just a scardy cat?"

"Could be," Cedric shrugs.

"Join me in the common room?" Y/n asks, holding her hand out for the boy. Cedric smiles at the girls boldness, happily accepting her hand and walking into the Common Room hand in hand.

THE END

A/n: Hey guys! I hope you liked this! I wanted to write something short and cute, so here it is! Requests are open!

[stxrsberkshire]

Somethin’ Stupid

Cedric Diggory x Reader

“What the hell happened to her?” Ron asked referring to his friend pacing back and forth and looking sheepish.

“Cedric Diggory happened” Harry states blankly and Ron just rolls his eyes already used to his friend freaking out daily because of Diggory.

“Why did I even bother talking to him in the first place?!” I say trying to prevent myself from crying out of embarassment, “Merlin I’m never gonna show myself again!”

“You’re being dramatic, it wasn’t that bad!” Hermione says trying to calm me down.

“Are you sure?” I ask, “She’s lying it actually was bad.” Ginny chimes in.

“Ginny! Seriously?!” Hermione yelled, “Well I don’t want to lie to her.” She shrugs.

“What exactly happened?” Ron asks.

Earlier that Afternoon

Cedric walks up to the table where the group of Gryffindors are sitting, he stops and takes a seat next to Y/n.

“Hey guys!” Cedric greets them, completely oblivious to the fact that his presence alone was able to make Y/n redder than the Weasleys’ hair

“Hello Diggory what brings you here?” George asks, “Oh well my cousin baked some cookies and she asked for my help with selling them, do you guys want to buy some? It’s only 7 sickles each.” He states.

“I’ll take one” Fred says, “I’ll take two” Ginny adds. Most of them wanted to buy cookies and so did some other Gryffindors near them that overheard, so Cedric insisted that they made a list to make things easier and to just give him the list when they’re finished.

“Alright! We’re done, Y/n you give Diggory the list.” Ginny says, “What?! Why me?!” I ask.

“Come on this is your chance to atleast have an interaction with him!” She suggests, “Yeah you could start a conversation” Hermione says, “And maybe even flirt a little!” Ginny adds, sending me a wink.

“Fine” I say as I stand up and walk to the Hufflepuff table, I poke Cedric on the back to catch his attention. He turns around slightly to take a look at who was poking him, “Oh, Y/n! It’s you!”

“Hey, so we um- I wanted to let you know that they’re done with the list.” I state trying to act cool and unbothered, obviously I failed.

“Oh great, Can I take a look?” He asks and I panic realizing that I forgot the list, Merlin why am I like this?

“Shoot, I forgot to take it from Ginny! I’ll just go and get it.” Before I can walk away he stops me, “No it’s alright I’ll just go there.” He says.

“Okay..” I say, following him to the Gryffindor Table.

“Hey you do know you forgot the list!” Ginny states, “I know!”

I stand there awkwardly next to Cedric who was checking out the list when I hear Ginny coughing to get my attention. She then mouths, “Talk to him”. Well I think that’s what she was trying to say I’m not very good at lip reading.

“So, Cedric did you help bake those cookies?” I ask in a horrid attempt to initiate conversation.

“Oh yeah, I helped my cousin out a bit.” He says, taking one glance at me before looking back to the list.

“So did you make the cookies in one of those wood-burning ovens?” I ask trying to keep the conversation going.

“Oh I wasn’t really there when she actually did bake it but I’m pretty sure it was Gas.” he states.

“Gas? Wow!” I remark, fidgeting with the rings on my fingers. “Hey uh, y’know that smell gas has?” I pause for a second “They put that in- the gas is odorless but they add the smell so you know when there’s a leak, I read it from a book.” I rambled, “A lot of other gas smells..” I continued, “Meth- methane smells” I added.

Cedric smiles at me awkwardly, looking a bit confused. “Good to know.” He pauses not really knowing how to reply to my rant about gas, “Well I have to go, I’ll give you guys your orders tomorrow!” He says to the group before walking back to the Hufflepuff table.

“Merlin’s beard was I fucking talking to him about Gas?!” I exclaim.

The next day

I sat quietly in the library rewriting my horrible notes from Potions class when I feel someone tap on my back, I immediately panic when I turn around and find Cedric smiling at me.

“Hey Y/n!” he says before taking a seat next to me. “Hello Cedric” I reply awkwardly, trying to avoid his gaze.

“So what are you doing?” He asks, trying to take a peak at what I’m writing. “Just writing some notes for potions.” I answer.

“Cool.” he says, while fiddling with his tie.

I try to break the silence by speaking up, “Listen, I’m sorry about yesterday with the whole Gas thing..” I state. “Oh it’s alright, it wasn’t really a big deal” he shrugs.

“Yeah, I’m not usually awkward around people. I just get awkward around you cause I am a little intimidated by you, which is not your fault, this is totally a me problem” I continue to ramble “That’s just- I guess how I act when I have a crush on someone-“

he stops me “Wait what?”, he pauses “You have a crush on me?” He smiles.

“My god I have got to start talking less!” I say covering my face with my hands out of embarassment, Cedric only chuckles.

“You’re really cute y’know?” he teases, I only look up at him still embarassed cause of my accidental confession.

“How bout I take you out to The Three Broomsticks this weekend?” he suggests as he takes a strand of my hair and tucks it behind my ears. “I’d like that.” I say giving him a sheepish smile.

He smiles at me, “So besides gas, what else do they add smell to-?”

A.n: Hey guys, so as you can see my writing skills are still way below average but I’m working on it lol. I made this fic cuz I’m extremely bored and I’ve been in a robert pattinson phase these past few weeks so I figured, why not write about Cedric?

Btw credits to f.r.i.e.n.d.s- season 5: episode 19, which is where I got the whole gas thing idea from, that episode was really funny lol

Honestly I think this is shitty especially the bit with the whole list thing but idk what else to put there so I just did that

Well that’s it, I hope y’all like it!!

A.N number 2: I WROTE THIS MONTHS AGO, BUT I LEFT THIS IN MY DRAFTS CUZ AT THE TIME I THOUGHT IT WAS HORRIBLE AND CRINGE, I STILL THINK IT IS CRINGE NOW BUT WHY NOT POST IT IDK JUST PLS DON’T JUDGE LOL LUV YALL

[spencersmopbucket]

(Un)Reciprocated | Cedric Diggory

Pairing: Cedric Diggory x Reader Summary: You and Cedric were childhood best friends – growing up side by side, close as can be. When 5th year came around and Cedric began dating, you watched but never picked up the same habits, preferring a more independent life. When you begin developing feelings for your best and closest friend, after he goes back on an important promise, its nothing short of complicated.

Your childhood was amazing.

It was full of candy, toys, love and affection. It was full of luck, good marks in class, and playing tag until you were utterly breathless. And mostly, it was full of Cedric.

You did everything together – you had the same classes, the same goals, played the same sports, even had the same bloody wand when you got into Hogwarts. You were inseparable. You were never seen without the other, and every sentence where one was mentioned, the other was too.

"Yeah, Ced and Y/N.."

"Well, Y/N and Cedric were.."

You were certain it would last forever. You were certain that the two of you would never separate, even into adulthood.

When you got into your 5th year, you accepted peacefully that your thoughts were simply based on comfort, not reality. Cedric began to take a different path – girls, parties, popularity. You were very different, though you never resented him.

You were quiet, kept to yourself, and stuck to Quidditch and your studies. You had no use for the company of boys or the consumption of Firewhisky. You preferred a quiet life, wrapped up in a blanket by the Hufflepuff hearth and reading a book.

The first time you noticed the shift, it was a Tuesday.

Cedric had always been the type to linger after Quidditch practice —helping to stow brooms, chatting with teammates, tossing an arm around your shoulders as you both trudged back to the castle, still buzzing with adrenaline. But that evening, he’d disappeared before you could even unbuckle your knee pads.

You found him in the courtyard, surrounded by a gaggle of giggling fourth-years, his head thrown back in laughter at something you hadn’t heard. His hair was still damp from the showers, curling slightly at the nape of his neck, and his cheeks were flushed from the cold. He looked happy.

You turned on your heel and left before he could spot you.

Not because you were bothered by it, but because you had no interest in interrupting.. whatever that was. You blew your hair out of your face, walking to your dorm.

The common room was quiet when you arrived, the fire crackling low in the hearth. A few first-years huddled near the warmth, whispering over a game of Exploding Snap, but they paid you no mind as you trudged up the stairs to your dorm.

You told yourself you weren’t bothered.

So what if Cedric had ditched you after practice? So what if he’d rather entertain a flock of admirers than walk back with you like he always had? It didn’t matter. You weren’t the clingy type. You had better things to do than stand around waiting for him to remember you existed.

(Except you had waited. Just for a minute. Just long enough to realize he wasn’t coming back.)

You shoved open the door to your room harder than necessary, startling your roommate, who glanced up from her Potions essay.

“Rough practice?” she asked, eyeing the dirt smudged on your knees.

“The usual,” you muttered, tossing your gear onto your trunk.

You could still hear the echo of his laughter in your head — bright, carefree, so different from the way he laughed with you. With you, it was softer, quieter, like he was letting you in on a secret.

The jealousy you felt (you were very emotionally aware) confused you. So what if Cedric was entertaining girls? You didn't have to be into the same exact things anymore. It wasn't your scene. Doesn't mean it wasn't Cedric's, you rationalized.

Biting your lip, you gathered your toiletries and clothes and went to shower. The hot water ran over your sore muscles, but you couldn't even acknowledge the pleasurable feeling.

You couldn't ignore the burning feeling in your chest.

Groaning, you just washed up and got out.

—

Dinner in the Great Hall was a subdued affair.

You sat at the Hufflepuff table, picking at your shepherd’s pie, half-listening to the chatter around you. The seat beside you — his seat — remained conspicuously empty.

“Diggory’s late,” someone remarked.

You didn’t look up. “Not my problem.”

But then the doors swung open, and there he was, striding in with that effortless confidence that made half the Hall turn to look. His hair was still slightly damp, his cheeks pink from the cold, and he was grinning at something one of his teammates had said.

You tried to keep it down, you really did. You knew it wasn't right to be irritated. You didn't even know why you bloody felt this way.

He spotted you almost immediately, his smile flickering for just a second before he made his way over.

“Hey,” he said, sliding into the seat beside you like nothing had happened.

You didn’t answer.

He nudged your shoulder. “You okay?”

“Peachy,” you said flatly.

A beat of silence. Then, quieter: “You left before I could find you after practice.”

You finally turned to look at him, arching a brow. “Oh? I figured you were busy. I wasn't going to sit there and look stupid while you giggled to your posse.”

His expression faltered. “It wasn’t—I didn’t mean to—”

“Relax, Ced,” you said, forcing a smirk. “I’m not your keeper. Do what you want.”

His jaw tightened, but before he could respond, a group of fourth-years called his name from further down the table, waving him over.

He hesitated, glancing at you.

“Go on,” you said, shoveling a bite of pie into your mouth. “Wouldn’t want to keep your fans waiting.”

For a second, you thought he might argue. But then he sighed, pushing back from the table.

“We’ll talk later,” he murmured.

You didn’t watch him walk away.

Your fork clattered against your plate, the sound sharp in the hum of the Great Hall. You stood abruptly, ignoring the curious glances from nearby Hufflepuffs as you carried your half-eaten dinner toward the enchanted trash bins at the end of the table.

You knew you were being ugly.

The thought gnawed at you as you dumped your food, the remnants of your shepherd’s pie vanishing with a soft poof. That wasn’t you —snapping at Cedric, tossing out petty jabs like you were trying to wound him. You weren’t the jealous type. You weren’t.

(So why did it feel like your chest was full of broken glass every time he laughed with someone else?)

You exhaled sharply through your nose, pressing the heels of your palms against your eyes.

“You’re being ridiculous,” you muttered to yourself.

With that, you left the Great Hall and headed straight for your dorm. Without a word to anyone, you changed your clothes and headed straight to bed, throwing the covers over your head frustratedly.

Maybe some sleep would curve whatever the hell was wrong with you. Jealousy? Over Cedric?

You scoffed to yourself under the covers.

It wasn't like you loved him or something. Well, you did, but not like that.

Did you?

A pang of anxiety hit your stomach.

You rolled over and forced yourself to sleep before you could throw up.

—

You woke to the sound of hushed whispers and the rustling of robes. Sunlight streamed through the windows, far too cheerful for the storm brewing in your head.

Your roommate peeked over at you as you sat up, her eyebrows raised.

“You look like hell,” she said bluntly.

You groaned, rubbing your face. “Feel like it too.”

She tossed a piece of toast at you, which you caught on reflex. “Eat something. You’ll feel better.”

You doubted it.

The Great Hall was already buzzing when you arrived, students clustered together in excited chatter. You hesitated in the doorway, scanning the Hufflepuff table for a familiar head of tousled dark hair—

No.

You weren’t doing this. You weren’t looking for him.

You squared your shoulders and marched to the opposite end of the table, as far from Cedric’s usual spot as possible.

“Have you heard?”

A third-year leaned across the table, eyes wide with gossip. “They’re announcing the Triwizard Tournament today!”

You blinked. “What?”

“It’s true!” another student chimed in. “Dumbledore’s making the announcement after breakfast. They’re bringing back the tournament!”

A murmur of excitement rippled through the Hall. You barely registered it.

Your gaze flickered, against your will, toward the other end of the table — where Cedric sat, surrounded by friends, his face alight with the same eager curiosity as everyone else.

Of course he’d want to compete.

Your stomach twisted.

The entire school had gathered, students packed shoulder-to-shoulder as Dumbledore stood at the top of the marble staircase, his arms raised for silence.

“This year,” he began, his voice carrying effortlessly through the crowd, “Hogwarts will play host to a event not seen in over a century…”

You barely heard the rest.

Your attention was fixed on the back of Cedric’s head, just a few rows ahead of you. He stood tall, his posture straight with anticipation, his fingers tapping absently against his thigh.

You knew that tell. He was already planning his entry.

“—the Triwizard Tournament!”

The crowd erupted into cheers. Cedric turned slightly, scanning the sea of faces behind him — searching.

Your breath caught.

Then his eyes found yours.

For a heartbeat, the noise around you faded.

He grinned — bright, boyish, yours — and your traitorous heart stuttered in response.

You looked away first.

After the festivities, you almost floated out of the castle, moving too quick for anyone to notice. Or so you thought.

You needed air.

The pitch was empty, the stands silent, the only sound the wind whistling through the goalposts. You sat on the grass, your knees pulled to your chest, watching the clouds drift lazily across the sky.

“Knew I’d find you here.”

You didn’t turn. “Go away, Cedric.”

He ignored you, dropping onto the grass beside you with a huff. “Not until you tell me what’s going on with you.”

“Nothing’s going on.”

“Bullshit.” He plucked a blade of grass, twirling it between his fingers. “You’ve been avoiding me for weeks. And don’t say you haven’t,” he added when you opened your mouth to argue. “I know you too well.”

You swallowed.

Tell him.

Just say it.

But the words stuck in your throat.

Instead, you nodded toward the castle. “You’re going to enter, aren’t you? The tournament.”

He hesitated, then sighed. “Yeah. I think so.”

Of course.

The tournament was unsafe. In some cases, it could be fatal. You and Cedric had both agreed that if you were presented the chance, you wouldn't enter. You'd stay safe, side by side.

You forced a smile. “You’ll win.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do,” you said softly. “Because you’re you.”

Cedric studied you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, quietly: “Would you hate me if I did?”

The question caught you off guard.

“What?”

“If I entered.” His voice was careful, like he was treading on thin ice. “Would you hate me?”

Never, you wanted to say. I could never hate you.

But what came out was: “I don’t know.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Then Cedric stood, brushing the grass from his robes.

“Right,” he said stiffly. “Guess I’ll find out.”

And just like that, he walked away.

You wanted to slap yourself. Why were you being such an asshole? You didn't know.

Yes you did.

You loved Cedric. The thought made you want to jump into the black lagoon and be eaten by mermaids. Or admit it right away to Cedric, like one of the secrets you'd never been able to keep from him. Or hide it forever and live in misery.

You chose to hide it.

The days blurred together after that.

You threw yourself into classes, into Quidditch, into anything that would keep your mind off the growing chasm between you and Cedric. It was easier this way—safer. If you didn’t think about him, you wouldn’t have to face the truth.

(But you always thought about him.)

The night of the selection came quickly.

The Great Hall was packed, buzzing with anticipation as the Goblet of Fire flickered in the center of the room. You sat with your housemates, your fingers drumming restlessly against the table, your gaze fixed stubbornly on your lap.

You hadn’t spoken to Cedric since the pitch.

“Champions will be chosen momentarily,” Dumbledore announced, his voice echoing through the hall. “Once selected, please proceed to the adjoining chamber for further instructions.”

A hush fell over the crowd.

The Goblet’s flames flared—once, twice—then spat out the first name.

“The Durmstrang champion is Viktor Krum!”

Applause erupted as Krum stood, his expression unreadable, and disappeared through the side door.

Another burst of fire.

“The Beauxbatons champion is Fleur Delacour!”

More cheers. Fleur rose gracefully, her silver-blonde hair shimmering under the candlelight as she followed Krum out.

Then — silence.

The Goblet flickered, the flames licking higher, twisting violently as if struggling with its final decision.

Your chest tightened.

Not him. Please, not him.

The fire roared, and a third slip of parchment shot into Dumbledore’s waiting hand.

“The Hogwarts champion…”

A beat.

“Cedric Diggory!”

The Hufflepuff table exploded. Whistles, shouts, the thunder of hands pounding against wood — all of it faded into white noise as you watched Cedric stand, his face a mix of shock and dawning pride.

He didn’t look at you as he passed.

You weren’t sure why you’d expected him to.

The rest of the day was a blur, until the party.

The party had been going all afternoon, but later into the night, it became alcoholic.

Only 16 and older were allowed — you came with your roommate. You don't know why you allowed her to convince you. Maybe you wanted to torture yourself with seeing Cedric. Maybe you just wanted to drink the pain away. Both probably.

When you got there, uncharacteristically of you, you immediately dove into a shot of Firewhisky.

"Damn! L/N is finally loosening up?" One of your classmates whooped. You managed a halfhearted smirk as cheers erupted.

Another shot. Another. After another. You were encouraged, cheered on by your roommate and your friends. They'd never seen you like this — but they couldn't detect the inner turmoil. Only Ced could. And he was nowhere to be found.

You were probably just too drunk to see him, to be honest.

The world had taken on a hazy, golden glow — the kind that made everything feel slightly unreal, like you were floating outside your own body. The firewhisky burned its way down your throat, settling warm and heavy in your stomach, but it did nothing to dull the ache in your chest.

“Another!” your roommate crowed, slamming a fresh shot in front of you.

The crowd around you erupted in cheers as you threw it back without hesitation. The taste was sharp, bitter, but you welcomed it. Maybe if you drank enough, you could forget the way Cedric’s face had looked when he walked away from you at the lake. Maybe you could forget the way your heart had splintered when he didn’t even glance at you after being named champion.

Pathetic.

You reached for another shot, but someone snatched it away before your fingers could close around the glass.

“I think you’ve had enough.”

The voice was low, familiar, and it sent a jolt through you despite the alcohol clouding your senses.

You turned your head — slowly, too slowly — and there he was.

Cedric.

His grey eyes were dark in the flickering candlelight, his jaw set in a hard line. He looked unfairly good, even now — his hair slightly mussed, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the faintest flush high on his cheeks from whatever he’d been drinking.

You scowled. “Since when do you care?”

His expression tightened. “Since you’re about two seconds away from passing out.”

“I’m fine,” you slurred, waving a hand dismissively. “Go back to your adoring fans, Champion. And give me my fucking shot back.”

The word came out sharper than you’d intended, laced with a bitterness you hadn’t meant to let slip.

Cedric’s gaze flickered over your face, searching for something. Whatever he saw made his shoulders tense.

“We need to talk,” he said quietly.

“No, we don’t.” You pushed yourself up from the table, swaying slightly as the room tilted around you. “I’m going to bed.”

You didn’t make it two steps before his hand closed around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Y/N.” His voice was rough, urgent. “Please.”

Something in his tone made your breath catch.

You turned.

For a long moment, you just stared at each other — the noise of the party fading into the background, the world narrowing to just the two of you.

Then, without a word, Cedric tugged you toward the door.

The cold night air hit you like a slap, sobering you just enough to realize what a terrible idea this was.

You yanked your arm free. “What the hell, Cedric?”

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “You’re drunk.”

“And you’re ruining my buzz.”

“Because you won’t talk to me!” His voice cracked, raw with frustration. “Merlin’s beard, Y/N, what do you want from me? You’ve been pushing me away for weeks, and I don’t even know why!”

The words hung between you, heavy and suffocating.

You opened your mouth — to snap, to deflect, to lie — but the alcohol had stripped away your defenses, leaving nothing but the truth.

"Something's changed. With me, with you, I don't fucking know." You cracked, eyes welling up with frustrated tears. You fought the slur in your words. "I can't stop being an asshole."

Cedric stared at you, stunned into silence.

The kind of silence that wasn’t angry or judgmental — just broken. Hurt.

“You think I care about that?” he finally said, voice quieter now, almost a whisper. “You think I haven’t noticed something’s been eating you alive? You think I’d ever walk away from you just because you’ve been… distant, or angry, or—”

“Cold?” you cut in bitterly. “Sharp-tongued? Emotionally stunted?”

“Human,” he said firmly. “And scared.”

You laughed — a bitter, ugly sound. “Don’t flatter me.”

“I’m not.” He took a step closer, voice cracking just slightly. “You’ve been different, yeah. But I stuck around because I know you. And I care about you. And it’s driving me mad that you won’t just tell me what’s wrong.”

You could feel it bubbling up — all the confusion and pain and fear — the thing you hadn’t dared to admit even to yourself.

"Look," you said, squeezing and loosening your fists, "I'm drunk. I'm tired. I'm going back to the dorm."

With that, you tried to march away.

But you didn’t get far.

Cedric caught your wrist again — not hard, not forceful, just enough to stop you, just enough to make your breath catch.

"Please. Don't walk away from me. Not again. You're my best friend and you're treating me like a stranger."

You froze.

The words hit harder than they should have — best friend — and yet, they cracked something deep inside you. Not because they were untrue, but because they used to be everything. Because somewhere along the way, being his best friend had stopped being enough, and you’d hated yourself for it.

You didn’t turn around. Couldn’t. Not yet.

"Maybe that's the problem." You almost sobbed out, looking up at the sky. "I don't want to be your best friend, Cedric. Not anymore. I fucking love you, okay?!"

The confession tore out of you like a storm — raw, unfiltered, soaked in every ache you’d tried to drink away.

Silence fell.

The kind of silence that made your ears ring, that made the world feel like it had stopped turning.

A tear fell from your eye. You sniffled.

"I'm so stupid. And so drunk. Goodnight, Cedric."

You marched away. You didn't hear him ask you back. You didn't hear a response at all. Just pure, blank silence.

When your reached the dorm, you cried yourself to sleep.

The weeks that followed were hollow.

You avoided him at all costs — skipping meals if he was in the Great Hall, changing routes between classes, ducking into alcoves or behind statues just to avoid seeing his face.

And the worst part?

He let you.

Not once did Cedric chase after you. Not once did he corner you in the hallway or try to pull you aside after class. No notes. No explanations. No apologies.

It was like you’d ceased to exist.

Your friends didn’t understand. Hell, you didn’t understand. You’d confessed your feelings, humiliated yourself — handed your heart to him — and he hadn’t even had the decency to break it properly. Just silence. A gaping, agonizing silence.

You buried yourself in schoolwork, tried to find distractions, but nothing stuck. Nothing made the ache fade. You’d never felt so invisible.

Not even Firewhisky could touch it now.

You'd even tried. You were drunk at every party, desperately trying to forget how embarrassed you felt and how much you missed Cedric.

And then came the day of the final task. The Maze.

The air was electric, thick with nerves and anticipation. Everyone buzzed about Cedric and Harry, Fleur and Krum — four champions entering the unknown. You stood on the edge of the crowd with your arms crossed, shoulders tight with dread. You hadn’t spoken to Cedric in weeks, hadn’t even looked at him if you could help it… but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t terrified.

He might not care about you anymore — if he ever did — but that didn’t stop you from caring about him.

The Maze loomed like a breathing thing, its hedges impossibly tall, its rustling leaves whispering secrets. You watched him walk toward it, flanked by cheers and camera flashes, and for a moment, just a moment, he looked back over his shoulder.

At you.

Your breath caught.

Then he was gone.

The chaos came later.

Screams. Shouting. Rumors flying like hexes. Harry was back, clutching the Triwizard Cup and Cedric’s arm — but something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

Cedric wasn’t moving.

You pushed through the crowd, frantic, not caring who you elbowed or stepped on. Harry was screaming something about Voldemort, about portkeys, about Death Eaters — and all you could see was Cedric lying in the grass like a discarded doll.

But then — then — he moved.

A shallow breath. A twitch of his hand. A groan.

You fell to your knees beside him as Madam Pomfrey and the professors swarmed, your shaking fingers brushing over his cold one before they ushered you back.

He lived.

Barely, but he lived.

You didn’t sleep for two nights.

You hovered outside the Hospital Wing, waited for word, snapped at anyone who told you to rest. You weren’t sure why — he hadn’t spoken to you in weeks — but some part of you needed to know he was okay. Even if you’d never speak again.

It was late when Madam Pomfrey finally relented and let you in.

He looked pale, drawn, but awake. Eyes open, hazy with potions and pain, but still that same warm, stormy gray.

You stood in the doorway, frozen.

He blinked. “Y/N?”

You hated that his voice still made something deep in your chest crack.

“I… shouldn’t be here,” you said. “I just wanted to see if you were—if you—” You turned, heart hammering, already retreating.

“Don’t,” he rasped. “Please. Don’t go.” His voice cracked. Tears glossed his eyes over — not quite gathering, but still there.

You hesitated, back still to him.

"I'm begging you. I just want to hold your hand. To touch you. Just for a second, yeah? Please, Y/N."

The rawness in his voice undid you.

Not the words — those you could have ignored. But the way he said them. Cracked and trembling, like a boy clinging to a ledge by his fingertips. Like saying your name was the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely.

You turned, slowly.

Cedric looked so unlike himself it hurt — his golden skin washed out, the sharp cut of his cheekbone shadowed and sunken, that usual quiet confidence gone. But those eyes…

They were still his. Still stormy. Still yours.

You came back slowly. His pale hand outstretched — you placed yours into it, like he'd asked. The entire room flooded with the aura of relief. Cedric squeezed his eyes shut, an exhale leaving him.

He didn’t say anything right away.

He just held your hand like it anchored him. Like it was the only thing tethering him to the moment, to the world, to you. His fingers were cold — not deathly, just lacking the usual heat you remembered so well. But they wrapped around yours with the same gentleness you’d missed more than you could bear.

When he opened his eyes again, they shimmered.

“I thought I’d dreamed you,” he said, voice low, rough. “That night. After the maze. I thought… maybe I’d imagined the sound of your voice.”

Your throat tightened. “I was there.”

“I know that now,” he said, giving your hand a light tug, just enough to pull you closer to the bed. “You were always there. Even when you weren’t.”

You were silent again. Then you spoke.

"What the hell happened?"

Cedric’s jaw tensed. For a moment, he didn’t speak. His thumb kept brushing over your knuckles — a grounding motion, or maybe just something to do with his hands so he wouldn’t fall apart.

“I don’t remember all of it,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “Not clearly. The maze — it was dark, and twisted. Everything felt wrong. Like it was watching me.”

You moved closer without thinking, perching on the edge of the bed now, still clutching his hand.

He swallowed hard, gaze distant. “There were enchantments, creatures, traps… things meant to disorient us. I was doing okay. Then—” He paused, breath catching. “Then the Portkey. I didn’t know what it was, just that it wasn’t part of the maze.”

You nodded slowly. “We were all watching. Then you vanished.”

“I landed in a graveyard.” His voice went flat. “I wasn’t alone.”

You felt your heart stutter in your chest.

Cedric looked at you now. Not through you. Not around you. At you. “There was someone there. Someone powerful. Masked. I—I couldn’t fight him. He cursed me. Said it was a warning, not a killing. Said I was just the ‘first stone in the avalanche.’ Then he left. Just like that. Like I was… insignificant.”

Your breath shook. “Cedric…”

He gave a small, humorless laugh. “I wasn’t brave. I just got lucky.”

You touched his cheek before you could stop yourself. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Downplay what you survived. You weren’t lucky, you were strong. You’re here, aren’t you? You made it back.”

“Barely,” he murmured.

“But you did.” Your voice cracked now. “And I’m so—so glad. I was terrified. Every day you didn’t wake up, I thought…” You blinked rapidly, unable to finish.

His hand covered yours now, anchoring it to his cheek. He leaned into your touch.

“I’m sorry you went through that,” he whispered. “Alone.”

“You’re not alone now.”

He nodded. “Neither are you.”

You sat in that fragile stillness for a long time. No longer strangers to the silence, but companions to it. Letting it speak where words couldn’t.

Finally, Cedric shifted slightly. “Stay?”

You looked at him — pale, trembling, but alive — and nodded. “Of course.”

You curled into the chair beside his bed, still holding his hand.

He didn’t let go.

Hours later, Madam Pomfrey returned. Surprisingly, she went into a soft smile when she saw you sleeping silently in the chair — arm still outstretched to Cedric, who was sleeping soundly finally — his hand clutching yours tightly.

She didn’t wake you.

Madam Pomfrey, for all her grumbles and strict rules, had been at Hogwarts long enough to recognize the kind of sleep born from exhaustion and heartbreak. The kind of sleep that stitched two fractured souls back together, thread by trembling thread.

With a gentle flick of her wand, she dimmed the lights and conjured a blanket, draping it over your shoulders. She didn’t touch Cedric — just checked the potions levels, made a quiet note on her chart, and slipped out of the room.

When you stirred hours later, it was still quiet. The world hadn’t ended, though it had come close. You blinked slowly, adjusting to the gray morning light streaming through the hospital wing’s tall windows.

You were still holding his hand.

More importantly — he was still holding yours.

You turned your head, just slightly, and saw Cedric watching you. His eyes were clearer now. Tired, yes — but calm. Solid. Real.

“Morning,” he whispered.

Your voice came out hoarse. “Hey.”

“Didn’t think you’d still be here.”

“I said I would be,” you replied quietly. “You really think I’d leave again?”

“No,” he said, his thumb brushing over your hand again. “But part of me’s still scared I’ll wake up and this will be gone.”

You sat up straighter, brushing the sleep from your eyes. “It’s not.”

A long pause.

“I thought about you,” Cedric said. “When I was stuck in that maze. When I was hurt. When I woke up alone in here. I kept thinking—‘I didn’t tell her.’ Not really.”

“Didn’t tell me what?” you asked gently.

“That I love you.”

Your breath caught.

“I love you,” he repeated, firmer this time. “And I’m sorry it took almost dying to say it. I should’ve said it that night. When you did. But I panicked. I—I couldn’t believe you’d actually—”

“I did,” you whispered. “I do.”

Cedric’s expression broke into something fragile and luminous, something that made you feel like you could finally breathe after weeks underwater.

He squeezed your hand again.

“I think we’ve wasted enough time, don’t you?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

Soft sunlight broke through the clouds beyond the windows, casting a pale gold glow across the room. And as Cedric smiled up at you, tired but whole, you realized this wasn’t the end of your story.

"You said you'd never date. Now look at you.. Loser." Cedric snorted weakly.

It was true. You'd said that at the beginning of 5th year.

Rolling your eyes, you smirked.

"I wouldn't call it dating. I'd call it unlabeled, pure devotion."

Cedric laughed, a low, broken sound that still somehow managed to sound like music. His thumb brushed yours as he held your hand a little tighter.

“Oh, that’s what we’re calling it?” he murmured, smile lazy, eyes gleaming just a bit. “Unlabeled, pure devotion?”

You shrugged, that smirk playing on your lips again. “It’s more romantic that way. Tragic. Poetic.”

“Right,” he said with mock-seriousness. “So when people ask, I’ll just say I’m in a deeply emotional, undefined entanglement with a sarcastic cynic who pretends she doesn’t love me stupid.”

You shot him a glare, but your heart fluttered.

“And I’ll say I’m spiritually tethered to a bleeding-heart Hufflepuff who almost died just to make me realize I’m in love with him.”

Cedric’s eyes locked with yours then — no teasing now, just a quiet, overwhelming sort of tenderness. Like everything had shifted and finally, finally landed right where it was meant to.

“Then I guess we deserve each other,” he whispered.

You nodded. “Unfortunately for you.”

He thought for a moment.

"C'mere." He muttered, opening his arms.

You raised an eyebrow. "But Madam Pomf—"

"She'll be fine. She loves me."

You huffed a laugh, trying to hide the fact that your chest had just caved in a little.

“She loves everyone,” you said, but you were already rising from the chair.

Cedric gave a weak but triumphant grin as you carefully slipped into the narrow hospital bed beside him, minding the bandages and bruises. His arms wrapped around you the second you were close enough — warm, shaky, and maybe a little too tight, like he still didn’t quite believe this was real.

You melted into him anyway.

It wasn’t graceful. It wasn’t comfortable. The mattress was stiff, your knees bumped, and his shoulder was still sore — but somehow, it was perfect.

“You smell like antiseptic,” you muttered into his collarbone.

“You smell like regret and firewhisky,” he murmured back.

You snorted. “Fair.”

For a while, you both just lay there, tangled in silence. His hand moved slowly across your back, your cheek pressed against the beat of his heart. There were a hundred conversations left to have — about the maze, about what came next, about the weeks of silence and the confession you still weren’t sure he’d heard properly.

But for now, this was enough.

Safe. Warm. Alive.

“I’m not letting you go again,” Cedric whispered suddenly, so quietly you almost missed it.

You lifted your head. “Then don’t.”

He looked at you like you’d just given him the answer to every riddle he’d ever been asked.

It happened without fanfare.

No dramatic music. No roaring winds or trembling ground.

Just the two of you, breathing in the same space, your foreheads touching as the late-afternoon sun traced gold across the white sheets and Cedric’s bruised knuckles.

He looked at you like he had all the time in the world — like he was memorizing every curve of your face, every flicker of doubt behind your eyes. His hand came up, fingers brushing your cheek, reverent. Almost disbelieving.

“I'd like to seal our 'unlabeled, pure devotion'' with a kiss, yeah?” he murmured.

You swallowed, heart thudding. “Then do it.”

His lips found yours gently — not rushed, not hungry, just soft. Certain. A question and an answer, all in one breath.

It was warm and a little shaky, a kiss you could feel in your ribs, in your fingertips, in every inch of skin that remembered what it meant to be close to him.

When he pulled back, barely an inch, his eyes were still closed.

“I'm an absolute fool for you,” he whispered, voice a little hoarse. “But it was definitely worth almost dying for.”

You laughed, and then you kissed him again.

[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.”

[omiluvsangst]

"Truly, Deeply, & Freely" // Cedric Diggory x Slytherin!Reader

i. "cold as ever"

parts: next

plot: you were cursed to never love another, to love another is to take their life away from them.

pairing: cedric diggory x slytherin!reader

words: 2.4k

a/n: ahh this is my first first fanfic ever! i'm so nervous but just as excited to share this with all of my fellow cedric lovergirls <3 this especially for all my girlies who love an angsty, slow burn, enemies to lovers type romance story. this chapter is just to introduce you all to our cursed main character and get to know her backstory! cedric is sadly not in this chapter BUT he will be in the next one, don't worry lovergirls!! anyways i hope you enjoy the slow slow burn, tysm for reading!!

𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙𓆙

There’s a chill that never leaves you.

A chill that you’ve gotten used to as you’ve grown during your years at Hogwarts. It’s a chill that curls into your spine the moment you wake and lingers long after the last candle’s been snuffed out in the Slytherin common room. It’s in the stone under your feet, the cold breath that ghosts across the back of your neck. It’s in your eyes, mirrors of winter lakes, frozen deep and silent.

You’re used to it. You’ve wrapped yourself in it like a second skin.

You’ve created quite a reputation for yourself, a persona you’ve worked hard to put on every day for your fellow witches and wizards. You’ve done so well that they now call you the Ice Princess. The name clings to you like frost on glass: beautiful, distant, untouchable. It started as a whisper in your second year. Now it’s a fact, you claim this name with pride, stitch it into your identity, paint it onto your heart like the hanging tapestries of the Hogwarts’ house crests and the portraits in the halls that blink too slowly.

You’ve never corrected them. And why would you?

It’s easier this way.

No one asks about the way your fingers twitch when someone gets too close. No one notices how you flinch from warmth like it might burn. They don’t see the way your eyes linger on the others, laughing, living, loving. They don’t feel your longing, your yearning for something others can so easily take for themselves. This is the way it’s always been and the way it has to stay.

You’ve made sure of it.

You sit in the Slytherin common room, curled in your usual armchair, (no one other than you sits in the chair, everyone is much too afraid to be caught stealing your designated spot) by the green glowing fire. Your robes are neat, your posture perfect, not a hair out of place. Not a single flaw in sight. A book is open in your lap, the content of the book? You didn’t know, you haven’t turned the page in fifteen minutes.

You’ve been listening.

Across the room, a group of fourth year girls giggle about someone’s new crush, some Ravenclaw boy with sea glass eyes and a dimpled grin. You clench your hand against the fabric of your robe and press your mouth into a tight line. Do they know how privileged they are to talk about such things? What a luxury it is to fawn over silly boys? To admire someone so openly and not have to worry about the consequences whatsoever?  You soon tune out the words and focus on the sound, the way they laugh without fear, without walls. The high pitched giggles of girls who know every little thing about each other, who can turn to each other no matter the circumstance. You wonder what all that must feel like.

You turn the page.

There’s a photograph tucked between the chapters. An old one. Slightly crinkled at the edges from being handled too much. You shouldn’t keep it. It’s dangerous. But you do.

In the photo, a man and woman sit under a blossoming tree. A woman whose appearance is strikingly similar to your own is pictured. Her dark hair tumbles down her shoulders, eyes fierce and full of something sharp grinning directly at the camera. The man has a quiet smile and a book in his hands, though he’s looking at her instead, with warm eyes full of affection and a fond smile. Between them sits a little girl, barely seven, her face buried in the beautiful woman's robes, arms around her waist.

You.

Your parents look alive in a way you can barely remember. The kind of warmth that you’ve only ever felt from your mother and father when they were still well and breathing. You trace the edge of the photo with your thumb, and a feeling of sorrow washes all over your limbs. You missed them greatly, wishing they could be here with you in this moment, regretting the moments you took for granted. You trace your finger along the confident grin your mother gave the camera as you close your eyes and take a breath before tucking the photo back into the pages of the book you couldn’t bring yourself to read.

That photo always brings you to remember the day you were told. The reason why your dear parents weren’t with you today.

It was raining. The kind of rain that blurred everything into watercolors. You were nine.

Your mother sat you down in the drawing room, her face, the calm before a storm. Her voice was low. Careful. Your father stood behind her, his hand on her shoulder like an anchor. They looked at you with glassy eyes, their eyebrows scrunched together in sorrow. You remember feeling confused as to why they looked so distressed, your relationship with your parents was wonderful, not even the strongest wind could knock your family off of the firm foundation that you guys had built together.

Your mother placed her hand softly on your cheek and rubbed her thumb against it, you leaned into her familiar touch. She looked deep into your eyes and gave you a soft smile, but something behind that smile looked almost regretful. Like she wished she didn’t have to tell you whatever she had to, but she did. 

“You are cursed”, she had said. “You can never love. If you do… it will kill them”.

Your mother was always like that, straight to the point. Never beating around the bush, always telling you how it was.

You didn’t understand at first.

Then they told you, “we are the only ones you can ever love”.

And then, a week later, they were dead. And you hated yourself. You were the reason your parents had passed away. Your parents had told you not to feel guilty, that you were the light of their lives and they loved you with all of their hearts. That their death was not because of you but because of the one who had cursed you. They told you that no matter what happened, the love you felt for them was all they needed to die peacefully. But your love had to be buried with them and could never be revived. For if you were to love anyone else you would lose them forever as well. They couldn’t let you live like that.

And so, you hadn’t loved anyone else. You’d obeyed. You’d done everything right.

And yet… they were still gone.

Now, at sixteen, you are beautiful in a way that hurts.

People don’t know what to do with beauty like yours. It unnerves them, draws eyes and shatters words. You’re beautiful in a way that scares people, the girls envy the enchanting darkness in your eyes, the boys stare at you longingly as you whisk past them in the halls with grace and perfection. But you’re intimidating, no one dares to approach you, you make others cower in your presence. 

You use that fear to your advantage. You wear the illusion of it like armor. It keeps people away.

You gave yourself rules. No friends. No crushes. No softness. No risk.

It’s what you lived by for years.

But every so often… something cracks.

You spend your free periods in the stables behind the greenhouses.

Most students don’t even realize Hogwarts keeps horses. They’re mostly used for groundskeeping or private carriages for staff. But one black mare, the wild one with eyes like nightfall, has always been yours.

You named her Nyx.

She was a gift from your mother after telling you about your curse. Something you could love without consequences; it was your mother’s last act of love for you. She had placed a shield that could only be used once against the curse upon Nyx, a protection from the death that loomed about you. When your mother first brought Nyx to you, she was bruised and half wild after a failed attempt at taming. So, you sat outside her stall that your father built just for Nyx for hours, days, weeks. You never reached out. Never forced her. Just waited. And one day, she came to you.

Now she follows you like a shadow. She was your best friend, your only friend. 

You brush her coat in silence, fingers working through the knots, her breath warm in the chilly stable air. You don’t speak. She wouldn’t answer if you did.

But she knows. She always knows.

When your hands tremble, she leans into your touch. When your eyes sting, she noses your cheek like a question. You sigh and breath in the comforting musky scent of her beautiful black coat. You resume stroking Nyx’s mane while humming a tune your mother would always coax you to sleep with. It was in these stables that you could find warmth, even if the rain was pouring and the harsh wind would cut through your robes, all of it seemed so insignificant when you were with Nyx. It’s like she knew the horrible thing that had been placed upon you and would be more than willing to let you escape your reality whenever you need to.

You feed Nyx a bright golden apple, an opal, they were her favorite you’ve come to find out. She takes it gratefully; you smile softly as you pet her lovingly and give her one last look as you head back to your dorm.

As you walk through the night and wet grass you already knew you wouldn’t get a good night’s rest tonight. Your mind was always too loud at night, full of static that would never clear no matter how hard you tried. But the silence of the dorms was much too thick. And so, you wander the halls of Hogwarts, this was your routine. Walk the halls like a ghost, barefoot and breathless, careful not to wake the castle.

The portraits whisper as you pass.

There she goes, the Ice Princess. So cold, so lovely. Cursed child.

You ignore them.

You walk to the Astronomy Tower and sit against the stone wall, pulling your knees to your chest. You sigh and look up to see the stars shimmer above you, so beautiful but always just out of reach. And you wonder, would anyone miss you if you were gone? No, not the Ice Princess, but you. The girl beneath the frost. The one who dreams of warm hands and late night secrets and laughter that hurts cheeks. 

But as always, you crush that thought before it can bloom.

~

In class, you are silent but precise. Being constantly alone made it much too easy to master whatever task was given to you. Your studies were never difficult.

You brew potions with practiced elegance. You transfigure with a flick and flourish. It was almost like an enchanting dance as your graceful hands moved about your cauldron. In Defense Against the Dark Arts, you move like you were born for it, controlled, decisive, unshaken.

Professor Snape favors you, though he never says it aloud. 

“Miss L/n,” he says often, “your restraint is... admirable.”

He doesn’t know. None of them do.

The restraint isn’t learned, it’s survival.

If you let go, even for a second, someone might see. Someone might get close. Someone might matter. And then… someone might die.

You’ve never told anyone the truth. Not that you had anyone to tell anyway. But even if you did all you could say is that you were cursed to never love. You didn’t know how this curse came to be, you didn’t know who could be so cruel to place such a horrible thing on you, you didn’t know how to break it, or if there even was a way to take away the curse.

Your mother wouldn’t tell you, she insisted it was for your own good, that you didn’t need to know. A part of you resented her for it, why would she keep something like that from you? Something that could release you from something so dreadful, how could she withhold that information from you? But she was your mother who you loved dearly, so you trusted her, even as it broke you.

After potions you walk back to your dorm before your next class. Your dorm mates leave you alone. As always. They fear you in the way girls fear snakes (ironic) beautiful, cold, coiled in the corner, watching with eyes too sharp. You haven’t smiled at any of them in years. You’re polite. Distant. Impeccable. They don’t ask questions. So, they whisper instead.

“She doesn’t feel anything.”

“She’s heartless.”

“I heard she hexed a boy in second year for asking her out.”

You let them believe it. You’d rather be feared, it’s safe this way.

Still… sometimes, someone tries.

A Ravenclaw girl from Charms class once offered to walk with you to the library. Her hands were ink stained. Her eyes too kind. With a heavy heart you said no. A Hufflepuff boy dropped his quill near you in the corridor. You stepped around it like it was poisoned. 

You can’t afford to forget.

Every kindness is a temptation. Every smile, a risk. Your curse doesn’t care how careful you are. Love is insidious. It creeps up slowly, silently, until it’s too late. You will not let anyone die because of you. Not again.

But oh, how you ache.

You ache when you see girls in the common room painting each other’s nails, trading secrets and perfume. You ache when you hear someone whisper “I think he likes you” behind a giggle. You ache when you read stories in bed, tales of stolen glances and midnight kisses, and feel the hollow place in your chest echo with longing.

You want it. You want it all.

But more than anything you want them alive.

So you stay frozen. 

You keep them safe. 

You stay alone.

next

[oh-puffle-cakes19]

Let Me Protect You - Prologue

Summary - Theo always gets into trouble and fights for your attention. Hoping that if he protects you, you will notice him. You hold a grudge against him for it. Theo hopes that one day you let him protect you without any Deficiencies.

Theodore Nott x Hufflepuff Reader

Warnings (Series content included) - Dark content; Angst such as fighting physically + verbally, blood, bruises, swearing, bullying, violence, mentions of temptations of sexual harassment, reader getting stalked (Not by Theo), Sexual content such as hot make out scenes, sex, oral sex, marking, praise.

Note - I am making a series, hopefully it be will long. This does contain a lot of angst however there will be fluff, happy ending of course. Feel free to comment your thoughts on the prologue of my series.

The great hall was bursting with chatter, laughter without letting you think. Y/N sees Mattheo and Draco playing the ridiculous game, who can make the person cower more to them. Blaise as usual being the judge. Pansy was in deep consideration with Lorenzo’s face going all red, poor lad couldn’t keep up with that witch.

And then there was Theo, wandering his eyes out of space until he met yours across the hall. You weren’t the one for much communication between even your so called friends, preferring your own company most of the time.

You find that most people are not reliable, they make you feel small by stepping on you in the wrong directions. You overthink, you are restless coming to a conclusion that you are better off alone, not too close with anyone.

What’s the point? You always get left out somehow.. “Friends” seem to care for a min or two with them getting something out of you. Until they realise that you do not fit in therefore abandoning you.

You may have cried over their lack of effort towards you, their harsh words after the friendship is over but what they didn’t know.. is that you came through stronger.

Digging your nose through books, always studying to meet good grades and even so the best expectations for yourself.

When you felt Theodore’s gaze towards you, your breath hitch. You close your eyes, pretending that it is not real. You are only being fooled. It’s a restless game he will not give up, not only because of his ability to charm that halfhearted spirited grin but because of his pride, his ego, his determination.

Everyone knows not to play or to begin to think entertaining Theo’s flute as it leads to ruin. Girls do ignore this from time to time, all they get is to be left behind on the sidelines.

You however, will not be another victim of one of his many little games.

Theodore on the other hand, he finds himself full of curiosity with you and your little Hufflepuff status.

As they say curiosity kills the cat!

[chloe-skywalker]

The Good Out Of The Bad - Cedric Diggory

Cedric x Fem!Reader Malfoy

Warnings: parents disowning child

Word count: 999

Summary: Being disowned by the Malfoys, Y/n goes to her boyfriend Cedrics home. The Diggorys are more than welcoming.

Authors Note: For sake of the story Cedrics moms alive. I don't know if she's alive or dead, they don't say in the movies and I haven’t read the books. Part 2? Maybe a run in with the Malfoys? Or he proposes? Or they go over to invite the Malfoys to their wedding? Comment below which one you’d like or should it be all of those.

Masterlist

Harry Potter Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Y/n had possibly had the worst day of her life and all she wanted right now was Cedric. It was a long journey but she needed him right now. Once Y/n reached the Diggory residence she knocked on the front door.

“Y/n? What's wrong?” Cedric answered the door, shocked to see his girlfriend on the other side, soaked from the pouring rain. With her face red and blotchy.

“I was kicked out.” She hiccuped looking up at him with more tears gathering up in her eyes.

“Come in sweetheart. Its way to cold out.” Cedric’s mother says once she saw the girl she thought of as a daughter, having come to check on Cedric at the door. The older woman rushed Y/n into their home having her and Cedric sit on the couch. Cedric's mother and father joining them in the living room.

“What happened Y/n/n?” Cedric asked, wrapping a towel and a big heavy blanket around her trying to make sure she doesn’t get sick. He pulled her close into his side to comfort and protect her.

“I've been disowned. Name burned off of the family tree and everything.” Y/n told them with a shaky voice and a shiver. Whether it was from being drenched in the rain or the vent’;s she experienced with her family they didn’t know. But the guess was both.

Cedric rubbed a hand up and down her back trying to provide her with as much comfort as possible.

His parents were shocked to hear her words. How could they, then again something similar happened to Sirius Black back when they were younger.

“Why?” Cedric ask’s, curiously and angry at whatever reason they could give to do this to their own daughter.

“I disagreed on some views my father hold’s, and he decided that if I didn’t agree then I’m no longer a part of the Malfoy family.” Y/n took a deep breath as she told them she didn’t want to cry anymore. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know where else to go.” She apologizes to Cedric and his parents not wanting to be a burden.

“Don’t be sorry sweetheart.” Cedric's mom shakes her head, heartbreaking for the girl.

“You're always welcome in our home.” Cedric's dad tells her they'd never turn her away, especially after what she just went through.

“Thank you.” Y/n sends them an appreciative smile leaning into Cedric’s embrace.

“You can stay here for as long as you want.” Cedric's mother tells her as she notices Y/n relaxing into her son’s arms.

“I don’t want to be a burden.” Y/n shake’s her head looking at Cedric’s mom.

“You could never be a burden.” Cedric’s dad tells her not wanting her to think she was being a burden.

“Thank you.” Y/n nodds before leaving to go to the bathroom.

“Why would she think she’s a burden staying here?” His mother asked Cedric once hearing the bathroom door shut.

Cedric sighed sadly looking at his parents knowing they were gonna hate his explanation. “Her father- Luscious always called Y/n and Draco burdens. So it’s something she’s been told her whole life. She’s used to it.”

“That's not right.” His dad was appalled at hearing this.

“She’s welcome to stay her for as long as she want’s.” His mother tells him also appalled and upset that they would treat Y/n so poorly. No wonder she never wanted to be home.

“I’ll make sure she knows. And probably have to remind her.” Cedric nodd’s happy to hear that but also knowing she’d be safe with them helped washed away his worry. With that Cedruc got up to make sure Y/n was okay.

“We’ve always loved her.” Cedric’s mom smiled at her son as he left the room.

“Like a daughter.” His dad smiled at his wife, resting a hand on her shoulder standing next to her.

“She’s family.” his wife stated, an unspoken agreement between them that the girl would become even more a part of their family now than she already was.

^     ^     ^

Over the summer Cedric’s parents got to watch their son's relationship and behavior over the weeks and found it interesting to watch their son in his relationship. They got to see the two young adult’s grow even closer and their love grow bigger.

“We did a good job.” Cedric’s mother stated about how they raised their son.

“Yes we did.” His dad agreed watching beside his wife.

^     ^     ^

“Thank you for letting me stay all summer Mr. and Mrs Diggory.” Y/n thanked her boyfriend's parents with a smile having enjoyed her summer with them. They treated her like she was their daughter, their own flesh and blood.The way a family should be is what Y/n thought. But now it was time for them to go back to school for their final year. They were currently at the train station.

“It was a pleasure having you my dear.” Cedric’s dad hugged her after hugging his son, they enjoyed having her with them all the time she was the daughter they never had.

“We can’t wait to have you both back for christmas.” Cedric’s mom says excited and already missing the both of them. She hugged both of them at the same time.

Y/n smiled hugging her back just as tight. She loved being with the Diggory’s it was a big contrast to what she grew up with and she loved it. “I can’t wait.”

It was time for Cedric and Y/n to board the train. As they did they waved back at his parent’s before heading off hand in hand to find a seat together.

“I hope he marry’s her someday.” Cedric’s mother said out loud as she hugged her husband as they watched the train leave. Cedric’s dad let out an airy laugh even though he knew she was being completely honest and he hoped for the same thing in the future.

Taglist:

@padawancat97 @gruffle1 @daughter1of2anita3dearly