#cedric drabble

[mistress-riddle]

𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘. cedric diggory

request — Cedric and his parents go on a trip to another country during the summer and during it, Cedric meets reader at a park reading, they strike up a conversation but seeing as they are both wizards and neither of them realize the other is also a wizard they dont keep in touch. when they return to Hogwarts, Cedric glances around and sees reader sitting with the Slytherins at dinner and asks them on a hogsmeade date to catch up. — @hea-vin

you sigh as you take a seat on the bench, family long discarded in favour of resting your aching body from the shopping and sight-seeing you've been doing for the past 5 hours and reading a book instead. you fail to notice the boy taking a seat at the exact same time as you and so you startle when he chuckles and asks "long day?"

"sadly," you groan and stretch your neck to the side, closing over your novel "you in the same predicament?"

"sadly," he huffs and ruffles his hair as he leans back, legs spreading slightly in the process "where abouts are you from?" he asks shortly after.

"live in central london," you turn to properly look at him "what about you?"

"near devon, england." he seems to be around your age, brown hair mixed with golden highlights that seemed too soft and fluffy to be dyed. his face was certainly something to admire, high cheekbones dusted with pink and freckles that accompanied them, lips wide and full and jawline sharp in its edges. his eyes are a mix of hazel and green with specks of gold similar to the ones in his hair, once you notice you've been looking for a bit too long you clear your throat and look to the side.

.

"how long are you staying here for?" the boy asks you, head tilted to the side as he scans you, your face seemed familiar but he wasn't sure where he recognised you from.

"i think two more days," you ponder "i'm not sure, i'm just tagging along with my family." you shrug and he smiles in return.

"same here, though i think we're staying for the week." you nod and he follows it with "how have you liked it so far then?"

"it's been pretty alright actually," you respond with a grin "i mean apart from the heckling of being with family and having siblings, the sights here are so pretty and the food is delicious."

the brunet agrees with you, the same amiable smile decorating his lips "it is quite beautiful here, though i don't have any siblings to put a dimmer on my experience."

"oh lucky you," you sigh "i wish i was an only child."

the boy laughs as he shakes his head "i often wished i had a sibling to play with."

you glance at him with a cheeky look "want to trade?"

"i'm afraid i'm too used to being an only child." he shrugs and you pout.

"bummer, i could've been having the time of my life had you agreed." you shut your eyes as you allow the sunlight to bathe you in its rays, peeking an eye open after a few seconds, you focus it on the boy beside you "you sure?"

"you didn't exactly sell it out to be the greatest thing," he pauses and hums "might need some convincing."

you tap your fingers against your thighs as you ponder "well for starters, i guess they're somewhat cute—" you're cut off by a yell of your name. the two of you turn to see a 6 year old running towards you with a cup full of fruits.

"mama said you have to come back, we're going to another place." the child rushes through her words and almost chokes on a pineapple during the relay of her message and you send the boy next to you a look which caused him to chuckle.

"slow down, you're going to choke." you pat her back gently and shake your head as you stand up, sending her away as your bags go back in your hands and your book is put away.

"well, it was nice chat," you smile at the guy still sitting "i'll work on the pro's for the next time if i see you around."

"i look forward to it, farewell, my chatting companion." he waves and you try to mimic him with a tiny wave of your own as you follow behind your sister.

it's a shame you met the handsome stranger in a foreign country and not back at home. alas, it was probably worse that he was most likely a muggle who you could not communicate with. a bummer how all the good ones you're destined to only meet once you think to yourself.

the bustling of the students feels familiar as you take your seat beside your friends in the great hall.

"how was your holiday?" asks emma from your side, nudging you with her elbow the second dumbledore announced that the feast shall commence.

"emma, had you not slept the whole ride from kings cross to here, you would've known."

your other friend, ben, interrupts as he places a hand on his chest and haughtily stares down at emma "since i was actually awake to converse with my friend like normal people do, i had the opportunity to hear about [name]'s first crush on this british boy she met on holiday."

emma ignores bens attitude as she turns to you with her mouth open, a gasp escaping her lips "no. way." she whispers and you roll your eyes.

"it's not a crush, ben just wants to mess with you." you retort at her wide eyes and disbelieving expression.

"come now, [name], it's not everyday you compliment a boys look to us, he must've really swooned you." ben teases and you sigh.

"you make it seem like i've never complimented anyone." you deadpan and your friends scoff.

"fine, i'll never tell you anything again." you mutter in spite and ben and emma hurriedly attempt to placate you throughout the rest of dinner as they try to coerce you to spill about the handsome stranger who caught your attention and affection.

towards the end of dinner when conversations take over and everyone is only lightly taking bites of their desserts, ben finds his eyes drifting behind you before his expression changes into one of curiosity "say," he interrupts you and emma, you two turn to him with an unimpressed look "does anyone know why the diggory boy keeps looking back here every now and then?" he gives you a look "any of you associated with him?"

emma wistfully sighs as she places her head on her closed fist "i wish, i'd totally get with him if he wanted." you give her a look and clear your throat.

"umm, who's diggory?"

the two sigh "cedric diggory? the captain of the hufflepuff quidditch team?..." ben asks as if that'll help you and you turn to emma "he's blondish, tall, absolutely dreamy?" she quips and you hum.

"he sounds like the perfect package, how come i don't know about him?" you ask and they shrug.

"merlin knows how in your world you are, as a slytherin, it will do you good to build connections." ben adds and emma taps your shoulder to get you to turn around and show you who exactly cedric is. as you turn your head however, you catch the eye of a certain quidditch captain, you're met with the sight of the boy from your holiday and your breathe hitches as he stands and makes his way over.

"okay, now why is he coming here?" ben asks once more and emma shrugs as she watches the two of you stare at each other.

"it's you." you both utter at the same time and his face breaks out into a smile that you can't help but reciprocate.

"i thought i'd never see you again." the boy scratches the back of his neck as his cheeks colour a rosy hue.

"and i you." you nod in reciprocation.

"well since luck seems to have found me, i think i have to take full advantage of it and ask you on a date." you hear one of your friends choke but you choose to ignore them and put up a front of a thinking face as cedric waits for your answer "i just have to find out what the pros are."

you sigh as you cross your arms "i did try to come up with an extensive list..." you look up at the boy and nod "fine, i'll free a day and make a compelling case for you."

you did not think cedrics grin could widen anymore and yet you stand (sit) corrected as his teeth show "i look forward to it!" he waves you goodbye as he heads back to his table and rejoins his friends.

"turns out this priss not only knows diggory but managed to bag a date with him."

"prick."

"dear merlin, why don't i have their luck?"

[oxydiane]

Harry is eight and spending the time he isn’t locked up in his cupboard, or doing house chores, or running away from Dudley and his gang, at the nearby park. He sits on the swing and idly watches the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen.

His name is Malcom, his hair is light brown and his eyes are the prettiest blue Harry’s ever seen.

But— but boys aren’t supposed to be pretty. Boys aren’t supposed to think other boys are pretty, so he makes himself smaller in his worn out jumper and never approaches him again.

Harry is eleven when his life turns upside down and a gangly freckled kid sits next to him on the Hogwarts Express. He looks into his blue eyes and marvels at the bright red of his hair. He wants to reach out and clean the bit of dirt off his nose, but that would be getting too close to another boy, and he couldn’t afford that, could he?

Not when he could imagine tracing all the freckles scattered across his cheeks.

Harry is fourteen when Cedric Diggory falls from the sky and offers him help getting up after using his first Portkey. His hand is big and as calloused as he’d expect a Quidditch player’s to be. He doesn’t like dwelling on the thought of how nice he’d found it.

He asks Cho Chang to the Yule Ball and she rejects him because Cedric Diggory had been quicker. He ends up spending the night on a chair intently looking at the way Cedric’s hand curls around Cho’s waist. He was jealous of him, right?

He tells Sirius about the Yule Ball and he raises an eyebrow at the way Harry describes Cedric’s robes and styled hair but can barely remember the colour of Cho’s dress.

Harry is fifteen when Cho Chang finally agrees to go on a date with him. It happens after they kiss and Harry is eager, he should be, right? The kiss had felt wet and not particularly pleasant and his chest felt a lot warmer as he watched the way Ron laughed when he described it than it had felt when his lips had collided with Cho’s.

The date doesn’t go well, maybe Harry just doesn’t get women.

Sirius says it’s ridiculous, but he doesn’t miss the odd look he and Remus give each other.

Harry is sixteen when he dreams of red hair and freckled skin and in order to escape it he decides to stay up at night and stare at Draco Malfoy’s dot on the Marauder’s Map.

It doesn’t do him good.

He decides the bright red infesting his dreams must be Ginny’s, because he doesn’t know any other red-haired girl. Even though she wears it long and when he dreams it’s short and spiky. And the freckles on her cheeks are not as numerous as the ones he marvels at after falling asleep.

He decides it has to be Ginny, and the thought of it can occupy his mind long enough to make him forget the weird pang and slight sick in his stomach each time he catches Ron snogging Lavender.

When Ginny runs up to him after winning the Quidditch up, he kisses her, because that’s what he’d been dreaming about, right? Hands tangled in red hair and freckled cheeks centimetres from his face, but it feels all wrong.

Ron nods at him and it all feels wrong.

Sirius is not here anymore for Harry to consult, so instead he takes Ginny outside their common room and, on the Hogwarts grounds, opens his heart to her.

She understands.

Harry is seventeen when he has to die and he still hasn’t made sense of the feelings in his chest or why, no matter how much he tried, girls felt so wrong.

It’s not at the forefront of his mind, it’s not even close because the only thing he can think about is the warm bodies laying lifeless in the Great Hall.

But, as he approaches his death, he does spare a thought for the uneasiness he had felt when Hermione kissed Ron, and the discomfort every kiss he’d given before had provided him. He hadn’t lived in full, not even close.

A flash of green light approaches and he finds it silly, how his last thought is of red hair and freckles.

Harry is eighteen when he attends his first Weasley family dinner after the war. The grief is heavy and Fred’s chair is empty but Percy is back home and it does bring at least a shard of comfort to Mrs Weasley. He isn’t alone, Oliver Wood hangs from his arm.

He is eighteen and Percy Weasley introduces Oliver Wood as his boyfriend.

Harry blinks at them and something in his head just clicks.

Harry is twenty when he finally musters the courage to walk into a Gay Bar. He had to Confund the door keeper because he didn’t own an ID, the Dursleys had never bothered giving it to him, given he even had one.

It’s a Muggle place and he feels like the odd one out, terribly dressed down and completely clueless.

He ends up ordering a beer and sitting by the bar.

It’s not until his third visit that a stranger approaches him. He has red hair but his pupils are a soft hazel and his skin isn’t freckled at all. Harry thinks that if he shuts his eyes close, maybe, he could pretend.

His name is Lucas, his lips taste vaguely like strawberries and the kiss doesn’t make Harry want to turn his insides inside out. He smiles and the rush of adrenaline in his veins as Lucas nibs on his bottom lip feels both terrifying and terribly right.

Harry is twenty-three when the cat gets out of the bag.

It’s not because he wanted it, really, but sharing a flat with his best mates could be inconvenient, at times.

He flushed and urges his date to get dressed as he tries to avoid Ron and Hermione’s shocked looks. Their hands are clasped together and Harry has learnt to live with the uncomfortable twist of his stomach by now.

They come off it quickly, though. Ron laughs and pats Harry on the back, says everything is much more clear now.

Harry is twenty-five when he makes his best-man speech at Ron and Hermione’s wedding.

He chokes on his words both because he was never that good at public speaking and because each time he looked at the way Ron’s arm curled around Hermione’s shoulder his throat went a bit drier.

He drinks his glass of champagne in one go and relishes in the burn before fetching Gabriel, his date for the night.

Gabriel stood out like a sour note next to his exes: his hair were a dusty blonde. Harry had thought there would be way too many redheads at the wedding anyways.

Harry is thirty-one when Ron jokes he will never settle down if he keeps on changing men at the same rate he changes his pants, but Harry doesn’t care.

Ron looks thoroughly annoyed and Hermione coughs, worried and almost resigned eyes looking up at her husband.

Harry is thirty-three when Ron shows up at his place with a suitcase and bashfully tells him Hermione wants to file for a divorce.

He just nods and lets Ron in.

Harry is thirty-five when Ron brings back a bottle of expensive Firewhisky and decides they should celebrate the Cannons’ new victory streak on their own.

He hadn’t heard of the Cannons winning anything, recently, but he shrugs it off because it’s not really his thing anyways, Ron would know.

He is thirty-five and Ron, red-haired, freckled and now face flushed sits way too close for comport and traces his lips with a pinky.

He stands up abruptly and loudly declares it’s time for bed. Ron looks quite annoyed, but it will pass.

It must have been his imagination.

Harry is thirty-seven when his best mate breaks down crying in front of him and confesses his feelings through agonising sobs.

He keeps apologising and a tug at his hand breaks Harry out of his stupor. He was sure it must have been a dream, but Ron was real and crying and trembling.

He leans down wordlessly and, finally— sparks.

He is thirty-seven and this is the first time he’s ever felt so alive.

Harry is forty-two when Hagrid walks him down the aisle.

It’s clumsy and messy because they’re both trying not to cry, Harry being much better at it than the half-giant.

He catches a glimpse of Hermione, beaming at him from the front with a knowing smile.

He is forty-two and he is in front of Ron, in white robes. The voices around them nothing but white noise and then Ron leans down and all he can see is— red. Red hair and freckles.

[fieldofsecretss]

I promise you’re a good girl-D.M

Pairing: bestfriend!Draco x fem!reader

SMUT

NOT PROOF READ

warnings: thigh riding, reader being used, crying, kind of subspace, Cedric being an asshole, aftercare <3, mentions of scratches and bruises. I do think that’s all. Take it or leave it, don’t like don’t read, okay?

———————————————————————

“what happened?” he asked as he pulled her inside before anyone could find her out after curfew

“went to see Cedric…” she mumbles as she walked to his room and collapsed on his big, newly made bed, always typical Draco..always so neat.

“oh fuck” he cursed through a sigh, he wasn’t exactly fond of Cedric, also known as the ‘golden boy’, or the fact that he never cares about y/n. he just gets what he wants and sends her out the door, not even caring if she finished or not and no aftercare whatsoever. And that was a big deal for him, aftercare is his favorite part and should always be offered.

“didnt even get to finish, dray...” she whined as tears slid down her slightly pink cheeks, oh those cheeks, someone as beautiful as her should never have to cry over a boy like..him..Cedric.

“oh love..” he muttered, “why do you keep doing this to yourself, you know you always end up in my dorm crying your pretty eyes out on my bed” he said as he sat down on the bed and wiped her tears with his thumbs, mascara slowly making black trails from her long lashes above her doe eyes, bottom lashes sticking together.

“he told me I was his good girl…i just wanna be good” she sniffled and hiccuped. God he couldn’t help but feel his heart gain a crack.

“your tummy ‘s all achy, yeah?” he asked putting a big hand on her lower abdomen, he quickly noticed how she leaned closer to him, seeking his touch.

“so bad, dray”

“want me to take care of you?” He asked already knowing the answer. He felt so bad for her, he doesn’t want his little sweetheart to suffer

“please, Draco” she begged airily

“okay love, come here. ‘M gonna help you out”

“am i a good girl? i just wanna be a good girl—“ she said desperate for assurance, but the blonde slytherin cut her off

“i promise you’re a good girl, angel” he said, his hands were now wrapped around her waist as he began moving her, “but you gotta stop going to him, he’s no good for you, love”

her pretty pink lips parted as he kept moving her back and forth on his thigh, making her pussy rub against his pants back and forth

“Draco” she whispered as her hands moved up to his wide shoulders so she can move faster

“there we go, keep going, honey” he said, “poor princess, didn’t get to cum, hm?”

she shook her head and closed her eyes, feeling her climax coming on as she was already on the brink of it from earlier

“almost there, aren’t you? Don’t worry I’m here, love”

“mhm” she nodded and moved faster and faster, feeling the tension loosen up bit for bit, focus on the feeling of him.

“you can cum, love” he said, a low yet high pitched moan came out of her as her high came on, she fell on the bed next to her on the side, breathing out as she tried to catch her breath

“i didn’t mean to bother y—“

“sweetheart” Draco cut in, “i’m not him. i’ll take care of you, cm’ere” he said, picking her up and taking her to the bathroom counter

“i’m gonna take of your clothes, is that okay for you?” he asked, what can you say, he’s a man of consent

“It’s okay Draco” she said in a tired and weak voice, his jaw clenched at the sight of her bare body, bruises, red marks, and scratches were all over her body.

it meant that it was a rough night and that asshole didn’t even bother to give her the aftercare she needed. How careless, and he was supposed to be the soft, goody two shoes golden boy. Only if every girl that swoon for him knew what an ungrateful, selfish prick he was

“Fucking asshole” he whispered as be turned on the water and filled the bath, he hated the being that was Cedric Diggory. that fucking asshole never bothered to care about that poor girl that just wanted to please him and make him happy, in hopes of one day he’ll care for her

he put some soaps and bath salts in and gently put her in the bath, he cleaned her up with a soft towel, minding the sensitive areas. He was really careful to not make her uncomfortable in any way.

“want a rubber duck?” he asked, she nodded, he chuckled lightly as he put a rubber duck on the water, seeing her move it around and play with it while he washed her hair and body, she didn’t want to make her smaller than she was, but he knew she liked all the silly muggle stuff and he just wanted to reward her for how good she’s been. She deserved a good end of the day

he then dried her off and dressed her in one of his boxers and his quidditch sweater, he put her in bed and placed a blanket over her body and tucked it in on the sides of her body to create a comforting feeling

“stay with me?” she said as she saw him walk away, she reached out her hand for him, he sighed and muttered a small ‘of course’ as he held her hand and whispered sweet nothings in her ear while she slept and once in a while planting a loving kiss on her head

———————————————————————

This is a very old one, one of the first five I wrote actually. So I know it’s bad, don’t come after me😂❤️

[btsbabe7]

November Prompt 5: Cuddle

Words: 401 | Pairing: Neville Longbottom x reader

You step into the warmth of your boyfriend’s room, freshly showered and clothed in your loose pajama shorts, cropped tank and long cardigan. You hadn’t expected dinner to turn into a sleepover, but when he’d finally worked up the nerves to ask after three nights of dinner together, you couldn’t say no.

A few candles are lit on top of his Herbology and Potions books that take up the entirety of his nightstand. His burgundy blankets are tossed back, revealing the golden sheets he was gifted with as a reward from Professor Sprout for his selection as Head Boy just before the break. And he sits against his wooden headboard, a plaid brown shirt clinging to his newly discovered muscles, his brown hair combed perfectly across his head, and his green eyes on you in the dim light.

You slowly waltz towards the bed, smiling as he readjusts under the golden sheets to make room for you.

“What about the candles?” You ask while eyeing them in proximity to his blankets.

“They’re flameless,” Neville reassures before you climb next to him.

You hum in amazement, only used to the flaming candles that hung overhead in The Great Room back at school.

“Thanks for dinner and for letting me stay.”

He grins nervously, taking your hand in his before giving it a small squeeze. You can tell he’s nervous again. You know it’s been hard for him to return home during the break with the recent passing of his parents, let alone letting someone else in afterwards.

“Nev,” you breathe and thumb over his grasp before leaning into his shoulder.

His head leans against your damp hair and you can feel him trembling against you. He’s never cried in your presence, but you’ve caught him more teary eyed in the recent days. And you react in the same way you’d want if the roles were reversed; you sit up and wrap your arms around him instead.

Neville sinks down under the weight of the burgundy blankets and cuddles against your waist, wrapping his arms around you as his tears burn against the bare flesh of your thighs.

“I’m here for you, always. I promise you don’t have to do this alone,” you whisper while gently stroking your fingertips through his course hair until his sobbing fades into soft sniffles, then into gentle snores that eventually lull you to sleep against his headboard.

Please be sure to check out my other latest fics:

⚡︎ November Prompt Challenge (days 1-30)

⚡︎ For You Always - reader x Snape

~ Navi: masterlist (all fandoms) & (bts imagines/drabbles)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction, but please don’t copy! Written purely for fun :) Please only repost to other socials w/my permission and credit! Reblogging w/credit is fine. Thank you! ♡

[mirclealignr]

rainy summers | c.d

cedric diggory x reader

requested by anonymous, for mystery drabble event with the prompt ‘where’s my goodnight kiss?’ -> i hope you enjoy this :D

warnings; hair that’s long enough to get in your face, fluff!

word count; 900+

a/n; i’m back bitches and in my gif era for fics again D:

soaked to the bone, you and cedric ran with your hands clasped together towards the castle, summer rain pouring from the heavens above. it had been an unusually warm august, and cedric had planned a small date for the two of you down by the lake; he filled a basket with luscious fruits, treats and pink lemonade before asking if you fancied going for a swim.

neither of you had planned to stay out until the late evening, watching the light bleed into the night sky as the sun set, but you felt so at home spending the day doing nothing but being with cedric. it was only when you noticed dark, brooding clouds in the distance, sure they were to travel close by and release their heavy burden, that you began to think of returning.

now sprinting up to the wooden bridge, which offered you shelter, cedric laughed as he slipped on the drenched grass, his hand gripping yours tighter as he fought for balance.

“hey! don’t take me down with you,” you giggled, stepping into the stone entrance where you could catch your breath.

“like you wouldn’t do the same,” he sniggered, ruffling his hair and shaking his head like a dog.

“Oi!” you laughed, recoiling slightly as the water sprayed from his hair, “watch it.”

“sorry,” he smiled sheepishly, stepping closer to you to cup your face in his hands.

“ugh, move!” some snarky slytherin groaned, who you hadn’t noticed, pushing you out of the way as they led the rest of the quidditch team through.

“wow, they’re pretty dedicated to practice in this weather,” you cocked an eyebrow, pulling cedric back to you by his shirt.

your neck was turned as you watched the line of slytherins trudge down to the quidditch pitch, looking rather glum, and cedric took advantage of the opportunity to kiss your damp neck. his mouth was warm and soft, his breath heating your cool skin as he whispered against it.

“come on,” he said lowly, rising up to your cheek, “i’m getting cold.”

following him along the old bridge and jogging through the small courtyard, the warmth of the castle greeted you like an old friend, caressing you gently from the storm brewing outside.

“do you think it will thunder?” you asked cedric as you descended the stairs, rubbing your damp sleeves over your face.

“dunno,” he shrugged, “maybe.”

he spoke the password to the common room and led you to his dorm, a route you now had memorised like the back of your hand. if he had asked you to lead him blind back to his room from any point in the castle, you could do it—it was all mapped out in your head.

“here,” cedric threw you a hoodie and some old joggers he never wore anymore, mostly because you always wore them so now they felt like yours.

he removed his shirt and grabbed a towel from a nearby chair, drying his hair, face and torso as best he could. as you peeled your wet clothes from your body, your eyes remained fixed to the person in front of you, his subtly defined abs and muscles and the way they stretched as he pulled a new, clean shirt over his head.

“cheeky,” he laughed breathily, catching your lingering stare.

heat rose to your cheeks and you turned away sheepishly, fiddling with your clothes to get undressed and slip into some more comfortable ones, his warm and dry clothes over your body. you felt cedric come up behind you after a moment, resting his head on your shoulder and twisting you from left to right in a rocking motion.

“i don’t mind if you look,” he muttered in your ear, kissing your head.

even though he was yours, sometimes you forgot to remember. sometimes you saw him across the room, laughing with his friends and then catching your eye, and you still turned away from him like you shouldn’t have been looking. cedric would ask sometimes why you would turn away without so much as a smile, as the strange guilt crept up your neck as if you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t have, but you couldn’t tell him the truth, though you knew he wouldn’t laugh. but he wouldn’t understand.

it didn’t matter though, not really.

“you have to be up early tomorrow,” you reminded him, turning around to press your ear against his chest, “we should go to bed,” his heart thumped.

“i know,” he mumbled in response, letting go of you to walk over to the bed and get comfortable beneath the sheets.

you sighed contently, smiling at the open window cedric hadn’t closed because he knew you liked listening to the rain. climbing into his bed beside him, you snuggled up close and rested your head on his chest where his heart continued to thump, soothing you as it always had done.

“where’s my goodnight kiss?” he asked quietly, stroking your hair, pulling it away from your face.

you giggled, looking up to him—the hand that wasn’t planted in your hair was behind his head, his left elbow pointed to the side. a delicate smile rested upon his lips, waiting patiently to feel yours against his. straining to push yourself up to his face, you gave him a sweet kiss, long enough to leave him satisfied and returned to your comfortable spot on his chest.

“love you,” he said, twirling your hair.

“love you too,” you hugged him tighter.

- - -

library account; @mirclesjournal

[lesbianjackies]

hiii!

i was wondering if i could get cedric diggory x fem!ravenclaw!reader + basically just mutual pining until they smell eachother in their amortetia potions or sum?

tysm ❤️❤️

Cedric Diggory was not in love with you. He was perfect, and beautiful, and altogether far too good for average, boring old you. That's what you told yourself when he caught your eye across the classroom, or when his hand lingered on yours far longer than it needed to, or when his cheeks were dusted with a rosy pink when there was no one else around.

No, Cedric Diggory couldn't be in love with you. He couldn't be in love with you because you were in love with him.

You trudged into the potions classroom, prepared for the utter embarrassment Amortentia was going to bring you. The potion smelled of whatever you were attracted to, which in your case was cinnamon, firewood, and chocolate - Cedric. Cedric, who happened to be your partner in potions.

"I want you to describe to your partners what you smell," drawled Snape. "I don't care if it's embarrassing, I don't care if you think it's pointless, it's in the curriculum so you're going to do it."

Grumbles sounded around the classroom, fading into nervous chatter as students embarrassed themselves publicly.

"I'll go first," Cedric offered kindly. He took a deep whiff of the potion. "I smell..." He took another whiff. "It's like a mix of trees, fruit, and flowers." He smiled at you. "Your turn."

You were in shock. The scent he described was exactly the way your perfume smelled. You couldn't deny it anymore. Cedric Diggory was in love with you.

You shook off the thought and smelled the potion. "Cinnamon, firewood, and chocolate." Just as you had expected.

Cedric tilted his head with a confused smile. "That kinda sounds like the way I smell." Then it dawned on him. "Oh."

You smiled shyly. "Yeah..."

Cedric grinned. "I guess I kinda gave myself away too. I basically just smelled your perfume."

You giggled. "So..."

"Do you wanna go to Hogsmeade with me?" Cedric can't stop smiling, and neither can you.

"I would love to."

[lilliths-httyd-blog]

Whump Ahoy!

Okay, so. Imagine Princess Sofia helping out Cedric in his workshop one day, working on a potion together when something just... explodes in Cedric's hand. Completely out of nowhere, despite much care in handling, some beaker or jar or pipette or something filled with a dangerous chemical ingredient shatters with force, piercing through his glove, embedding glass into his skin and spilling the ingredient all over his hand.

Imagine Cedric's initial reaction to that: the shock after the explosion, the instinct to make sure that Sofia is safe... and then the pain kicks in. He tries to suppress his reaction, not wanting Sofia to be frightened in this situation, but it doesn't work. The pain is incredible. I'm sure you can imagine the agonized sounds that leave his mouth, the tears that suddenly begin to blur his vision. He panics. He has to get the chemical off of his hand and remove the glass before his ability to think and function properly are overwhelmed by the pain. There's horror as he grasps at his wand only for the counter-spell to not leave his mouth properly - he's stumbling over his words and then quickly forgets how to speak.

Imagine Sofia's reaction to this. Imagine her desperation to make sure Cedric is okay, and then her determination to help him upon realising that he is absolutely not. She tries her best to comfort him whilst also leaping into action, scouring books for the right healing spell; a task that Cedric cannot help her with. Seconds feel like an eternity as Cedric keels over, whimpering and spasming, trying his best to utter the right spell only for it to come out as a wail instead. He'd covered in blood and sweat and the skin on his hand is beginning to bubble and contort like wax under the mangled glove. Finally, the pain begins to die down slightly as the pain receptors in Cedric's hand are burned functionless. It is only when that fiery numbness takes over that Cedric is able to haphazardly cry out the counter-spell and slowly reverse some of the damage.

Imagine then a teary-eyed Sofia tenderly bandaging the mangled hand of the now shivering Cedric. Every now and then he stammers out a spell or two in an attempt to heal his injury, but oh, the regrowth of nerves and the reversal of such severe skin damage hurts. It will take a while for him to be able to heal this wound. He's lucky to be such a learned sorcerer or he likely wouldn't be able to heal it at all. He thanks his lucky stars that it was him to receive such injury and not Sofia: this is the reason why he doesn't allow her to handle such dangerous materials.

Imagine Sofia helping Cedric clean up after the incident, sponging the blood from his sleeves and sweeping up the glass. No nine year old should be handling such sharp objects or cleaning literal bloodstains, but Cedric can't do it with his munted hand for the life of him. Anyway, Sofia insisted that he try to just recover and conserve his energy - cleaning via magic would do him no good and he's already feeling dizzy and out of sorts. He's cleared away the chemical spillage - he insisted on doing so before Sofia went even remotely close to the scene of the accident. Visions of Sofia being the one to be injured instead haunt his dreams.

Imagine a few days later, Cedric's hand is relatively healed but still bandaged, aching and tingling like pins stabbing his skin. He hides the wound away under the sleeve of his robe. Nobody has really caught onto the fact that he's been wounded yet. Sofia and Cedric (Cedric especially) both know that it would've been better to inform Roland or Baileywick or anyone about what had happened, but they have an unspoken agreement to refrain from doing so. Sofia is petrified that Roland will ban her from practicing any more sorcery with Cedric, and Cedric is utterly ashamed that he allowed such a thing to happen in his workshop (and with Sofia present, no less). It's their little secret - that is, of course, until Baileywick notices that one of Cedric's arms is out of commission and interrogates him about it.

[cutielando]

POLL POLL POLL

we're getting there

[bettathanyou]

The Choices That Make Us, Final Part!

As the title suggests, here ya go! Dunno how long this would take place after part one, but... Enough time, at least. Here's part one and part two if you missed it otherwise!

Trigger Warnings:

Implications to suicidal thoughts, urges, commiting the act. Read with caution!

Cedric nods his head to a favorite song as he works, mumbling lyrics as he drums his fingertips on the wood of his workshop table. He was experimenting with a few potions that princess Sofia needed help making for a sorcery test, trying to find a way of speeding up the chemical processes.

Keeping his mind occupied usually helped to drown out the darker thoughts- and working at his desk keeps his feet from wandering too far.

Cedric's warm brown eyes glance at the heavy curtain obscuring his balcony. Ever since Sofia had come to almost witness his demise, the curtain sagged from a few nails dug into the stone wall.

Like a band-aid over a gaping wound.

"Least it's covered... So I don't have to look at it." The lanky man muttered to himself, feeling his skin crawl as he shoved down the memory of the last time he visited his balcony.

Mr. Ceedric?

Cedric winced, scratching at his ear in agitation. Princess Sofia's voice, small and hesitant as it was that night, has haunted him. Another voice in his head belonging to people he has disappointed.

Ever since, Cedric would consciously give his balcony a wide berth, steps quick and almost fearful of coming too close. His eyes immediately stung whenever they would land on the railing- his heart sinking when he found the bolts attached to the ground, keeping the railing secure, were worn and loose. The stone flooring had trenches made of scuff marks from his shoes, climbing dangerously over the ledge.

It was funny, the things Cedric noticed when he took a step away from the ledge; instead of staring straight down over it.

Cedric tears his gaze away from the haphazard curtain, a heavy sigh leaving him. His concentration broke yet again, and he rubs his temple in exhaustion.

"Should probably get to bed already..." The man mused to himself, already thinking of what tea blend to make so he could actually fall asleep.

The lanky man rises from his rolling chair, groaning from his stiff joints protesting against it.

Chamomile... Lavender... Maybe add some Valerian root. Cedric thought to himself, waving his wand to fill his kettle with water. He shuffles around his workshop for the herbs he needed, laying it on a side table nearby.

A few minutes later, his tea was ready, and he had since changed into his pajamas- his worn hexley Hall shirt, bearing his first initial, and loose boxers with a star and moon pattern.

Taking a sip, he sighs- this time, in relief.

Standing against a table, drinking his tea, it was a small, mundane moment; but to the sorcerer, it was another conscious choice to... Make things better.

For himself, and for a princess who would worry otherwise.

[dai-gloop]

winter rays. 💡

cedric diggory x reader

wc: 0.5+

fluff, drabble

"hurry, this way!"

"slow down!" you shouted after cedric with a small and airy laugh, trying his best to catch up with you as he ran through the field and towards the creek. it was a pleasant day for winter, the sun beaming down on your skin as the cold air that stung your cheeks contrasted the rays; it wasn't an unwelcome feel - not at all. the breeze was comforting as you chased after cedric with a grin on your face. every time your feet hit the icy grass, you thought of how it held such magnificent flowers in the spring. 

you finally caught up to cedric where he waited at the edge of the creek, the rapid but soothing sound of running water filling in the air, mixing beautifully with the birds chirping from the trees. you looked up towards cedric as he held his hand out, slipping your cold one into his as if it were made to be held by him and him only. 

he squeezed your hand slightly, as if testing that you were real and not just a figment of his imagination, tugging you a bit closer before wrapping his arms around you. a giggle escaped your lips as his hair tickled your cheek, replacing the sensation with a small peck to your skin.

you looked up through the sun's rays to stare into cedric's glimmering eyes - the eyes that seemed to hold a million galaxies - and you watched as his once content expression formed into one of pure adoration. his mouth curving into a soft smile revealing the faintest shadow of dimples at the corners of his lips. brown hair fell in curls on his forehead as he stared down at you, and then there was silence; no words needed to be spoken at that moment as he gazed down at you.

you always believed that eyes could tell a story, and once you met cedric, that belief manifested into a reality. his eyes danced with passion and clashing tenderness as they scanned your face; it was as if time froze. you were in your own little universe with him.

"you're so beautiful in the sun," cedric all but muttered as his fingers delicately ran down the side of your cheek, moving to cup your face in his hands. "so, so beautiful."

even after all these months of hearing endless compliments and praise from him, his words never failed to make the tips of your ears glow, and all you could do was beam back up at him, shaking your head lightly before going up onto your tippy toes to gift him a light kiss.

"i love you," you mumbled against his lips, your hand resting on his chest to feel his heartbeat, the rhythm beating to match the speed of your breaths. 

"i. love. you," cedric spoke, each word being punctuated by a kiss and you could feel the grin on his lips. it was impossible to feel solemn with eachother in your grasps.

just by looking up into his grey eyes and seeing the blue skies reflecting off of them, you knew everything would be fine - even if it were for just this moment.

[btsbabe7]

November Prompt Day 1: Theater

Words: 681 | Pairing : Cedric Diggory x reader, sixth year

You hadn’t given it much thought at first when the sandy haired Hufflepuff, Cedric Diggory asked you to join him for a movie over break just before boarding the train home. It seemed like any other friendly gesture and students often hung out during breaks. Even Hermione had asked you to join her in taking up visiting an art museum over the break, in which you happily agreed.

“Yeah, of course,” was all you had managed over the pages of your crisp book pages and he waltzed away with a smile before settling into the compartment diagonal from yours.

Solora Hazelridge, a blue-eyed, black haired Ravenclaw, who whispers say, should have been sorted into Slytherin with her cunning cleverness, but managed Ravenclaw because of her wits and wish to the Sorting Hat in her first year, slips into your half-loaded compartment.

“Did I just witness Cedric Diggory ask you out on a date?” she chimes.

“A date? Of course not.”

“Cedric never asks girls out unless he’s interested, or so I’ve heard.”

“Solora, I really just want to finish this book,” you sigh, not wanting to give much thought into what’s happened until you’re alone.

“Just think about what I said. Hufflepuff or not, Cedric doesn’t seem to be one that chooses lightly.”

And in the turn of a page, she’s gone.

That was a week ago and now you stand in the slight unfamiliarity of your own room back home in London, staring at yourself in the mirror with Solora’s words echoing in your mind.

A saffron colored dress clings to your curves and a dangly, beaded purse hangs from your shoulder. Your usually pinned curls have been let down and cut bluntly against your mid-back. You hardly recognize yourself in this setting, but you don’t have time to dwell on your looks or the neat makeup plastered across your lids, nor the glimmer smeared against the plumpness of your lips. You’re supposed to meet Cedric in less than ten minutes and transfiguring into a crowd of people isn’t ideal.

You’d settled on a nearby alley to spare yourself the trouble of being caught by any muggles. You don’t want to be caught in a scene where the police deem the witness insane because magic isn’t real to those who don’t believe.

When you reach the theater, slightly out of breath from your detour, Cedric stands just outside, preoccupied by the list of movies on the dingy white placard above the ticket window.

“You’d think the best movies would be played when students come back home for breaks, but they always save the bad ones for us.”

“I’d say they do it on purpose, but Merlin, that’d just be bad for business,” Cedric chortles and finally allows his gaze to roll towards you.

His curly hair is pushed back off his forehead and he’s sporting his usually charming smile; the same one you found yourself becoming all too familiar with even in the crowded hallways at school and even in the Great Hall. It was the very reason you were so reluctant in your response. After all, a smile could lead to anything.

You and Cedric decide on something they labeled as horror and settle in the back row with a large bin of popcorn and two drinks.

“Do you think it’ll be gory?” He chuckles while settling into the leather seat.

“Maybe,” you taunt. “Do you have a weak stomach, Cedric?”

The previews glisten in his irises when he turns to you, smiling mockingly because he’s too manly to admit it directly.

“Do you?”

“Of course not,” you whisper, trying not to focus too much on his steady gaze, but end up failing miserably.

He gently strokes your chin, allowing his fingertips to crawl across your jawline before leaning in closer.

“May I?”

You nod, too stunned to talk and too surprised that a heartthrob like Cedric would pick you for something like this.

And as his soft lips press into yours in the dark back row of the empty theater, you find yourself wondering: why me?

Please be sure to check out my other latest fics:

⚡︎ November Prompt Challenge (days 1-30)

⚡︎ For You Always - reader x Snape

~ Navi: masterlist (all fandoms) & (bts fanfics/drabbles)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction, but please don’t copy! Written purely for fun :) Please only repost to other socials w/my permission and credit! Reblogging w/credit is fine. Thank you! ♡

[farolero-posting]

Memory

Clover-covered journal

(Read more like this on AO3)

My first memory comes from a day I picked a black clover from the ground and brought it home. My mother put the plant between the pages of a thick book; later on I found out it was a way to dry and preserve it.

I wonder what Rue's first memory is. I wonder what Cedric will consider his first memory as well.

I wonder what the last event worth remembering will be. Denial and grief won't let me write her name, but I hope she rests in peace. I hope I can tell Cedric about his mother one day.

[tweetie-writes]

I'm bored and have no ideas, send in requests!

[lesbianjackies]

Sweet Music

Cedric Diggory x GN!Reader

Word Count: 290

Warnings: None :)

Summary: Cedric hears you sing for the first time.

A/N: Songs featured: Almost (Sweet Music) by Hozier and Pleaser by Wallows (Let's just pretend those songs existed back then lmao-)

General Taglist: @gg-is-a-loser @yesshewrites1

Harry Potter Taglist: @regulusblackswhorecrux

Moots: @spidervee @iheardarumorthings @thewritingbabe @scandalous-chaos @ddejavvu @winterwisteria

“I wouldn’t know where to start, sweet music playing in the dark,” you sing softly to yourself as you scribble answers onto your Astronomy homework. “Be still, my foolish heart, don’t ruin this on me.”

You’re alone in Cedric’s dorm, doing schoolwork as you wait for him to return and singing to pass the time. He isn’t expected to be back for another hour, so you should have enough time to get through the rest of Wasteland, Baby! before he returns. You love singing, but you get far too nervous to do it in front of others, so times like this are the only times you give yourself the chance.

“Tell me who and I’ll be thanking them,” you continue, “the numbered lovers of Duke Ellington. Do I owe each kiss to lip and cheek, as soft as Chet can sing.”

You get through the entirety of the song before hearing a soft, “That was incredible,” from the doorway.

You swivel around, mortified, and see your boyfriend smiling proudly at you. “You… heard that?” you squeak.

Cedric’s smile drops. “Yeah? Did you not want me to? I’m sorry. You sounded amazing, though.”

You swallow, turning a faint shade of red. “Th- Thank you.”

“Would you sing more for me?” he asks shyly, coming over to sit next to you. “I love your voice.”

“Erm, er… sure,” you respond quietly. You clear your throat and begin another song. “You’re talking while you’re fast asleep as I walk slowly from your house…”

Cedric sighs in amazement once you’re finished. “Merlin, I had no idea you could sing like that.” He leans close and pecks you on the lips. “I love you so much.”

You smile shyly at him. “I love you too.”

[carewyncromwell]

Ben 🤝 Carewyn

tw: discussion of attempted suicide, suicidal thoughts

Ben Copper was one of Carewyn's very first friends not just at Hogwarts, but in her entire life. In a lot of ways, Ben and Carewyn had been complete opposites at first meeting, with Carewyn being this brave Slytherin paragon and Ben being this shy Gryffindor scaredy-cat, but their shared love and talent for Charms led them to interacting more in class. Once Carewyn publicly stood up for Ben by dueling bully Merula Snyde in the midst of the crowded castle courtyard, their friendship was sealed, and Ben and Carewyn were both 120% in each other's corners.

Of all of Carewyn's friendships, though, her and Ben's went through the most highs and lows, largely because of how much both of them changed. Carewyn had once been an overly emotional, judgmental, slightly insecure girl who was prone to losing her temper and was more open with her problems, but now was as poised, stoic, and lady-like of a Prefect as one could hope to be. Ben -- once a sweet, timid boy afraid of his own shadow -- was now a brusque, authority-questioning daredevil with a fierce, sometimes violent protectiveness toward his friends. What bonded them all the more despite these increasingly dramatic differences, though, continued to be their shared experiences, not just as being friends for so long, but also -- in their sixth year -- witnessing the murder of their mutual close friend, Rowan Khanna.

Carewyn had just left the Hospital Wing following the event and the trauma after it, and quite a few of her friends had rushed to help her get back on her feet again. One of those friends -- understandably -- was Ben.

The week following Carewyn's release, the 6'0 giant Gryffindor insisted on accompanying her to all the classes they had together almost like a bodyguard. Carewyn would've fought it before, both out of her own pride and a desire not to involve her friends in her problems -- but after Rowan's death, she knew how foolish that second line of thinking had always been. And, well, after watching Rowan die...could she blame Ben for being scared?

She glanced at him out the side of her eye.

Ben was scared. Even if he'd so forcibly trying to shut fear off and never be afraid again, so he could protect his friends from Rakepick and R...he was, all the same.

Ben glanced at Carewyn too out the side of his eye as well, and their eyes met, brown on light blue. The Gryffindor paused, as if taking the time to assemble his words in his head before articulating them.

"...I know you don't think you need protection," he said lowly, "but -- "

"It's okay," Carewyn cut him off gently.

She looked ahead toward the hallway rather than him, unable to hold eye contact.

"I know I...haven't given you much reason to have faith in my capability," she said. "Considering I nearly threw my life away -- "

"Bill should not have said that," Ben cut her off much more harshly. "That is not what you did."

Carewyn was startled by Ben's righteous anger. Ben glanced up toward the hall too, his face a mix of frustration and pain as he cobbled together a proper response.

"...You were hurting, Carewyn. You felt responsible for what happened, and you...didn't want to live, knowing that. You didn't feel worthy of living, when she couldn't. That it was your fault, that she couldn't. ...That's not throwing your life away. Professor Flitwick said there's a term for it: it's called 'survivor's guilt.' He said he felt it plenty of times too, during the War -- that plenty of people who experience loss feel that way..."

Something in Ben's eyes darkened, betraying even more of that pain from earlier. Compassion prickling at the corners of her heart, Carewyn reached out a hand and took hold of Ben's arm. The two walked together for a short ways before Carewyn spoke again.

"...Bill didn't mean it that way, Ben," she said quietly.

Ben scoffed.

"He was upset -- and he had plenty of reason to be upset with me, right then. He still does."

"I don't care, he was wrong," Ben said resentfully.

Carewyn gave his arm a light squeeze. It prompted Ben to look down at her, his expression still a muddled mess of emotions.

"I'm glad Flitwick was there for you," she murmured.

When I wasn't, she didn't add verbally, but she hoped it still came through. Fortunately it seemed to, since Ben's eyes softened the slightest bit.

"He asked me to stay after class, after it happened," he explained. "He said he'd been worried about both of us...especially since you weren't talking, then..."

Carewyn nodded.

"He offered me some tea and fairy cakes in his office," Ben said with a choked smile. "Even enchanted them to fly across the room, so I could summon them over to me when I was finally in the mood to eat one..."

Carewyn gave his arm another light squeeze. Ben brought his other hand up to take hold of hers on his arm and squeeze it too.

"Carewyn...I know you blame yourself for what happened. And you know...that I feel the same way. ...But for once, Merula was right. We can't just blame ourselves, when we still have so much to lose. And right now...right now, I really don't want to lose you. Because I almost did -- and even if I do understand why and I would never have been angry with you, if you'd -- ..."

Ben swallowed, unable to finish. He bowed his head, his face going into shadow.

"...You were my first friend in the world. Even if I hated how you always treated me like a child and refused to rely on me or anyone else...you believed in me when no one else did. ...I want you there with me, now that I believe in myself too."

Carewyn paused outside the Charms classroom with Ben, coming around to better look her old, much taller friend in the face.

"I'm sorry, Ben," she said lowly. "I'm sorry I refused to trust you. And I hope you know...I'm so proud of you. Not just because I'm treating you like a child, but because you're my friend. And I'm so proud to be that."

Ben was quiet for a moment. Then he actually covertly rubbed at his eye, as if wiping away the slightest trace of a tear, before raising his head again.

"...Thanks, Carewyn."

He paused. He glanced at the door to the Charms classroom and then back over his shoulder, as if checking to make sure no one could overhear.

"...Look...I know Charlie and Merula have been mostly in charge of recruitment for the Circle of Khanna...but Flitwick mentioned another student who's an 'up-and-coming Charms master' in our meeting. I talked to him on the Training Grounds afterwards, and I think we might want to recruit him."

Friendship Drabble Prompt!

[sincerely-wyvern]

Because I really wanna write it

Cho/Cedric - Genderbender

Pairing: Cho Chang/Cedric Diggory — Ryuu Chang/Cedric Diggory Prompt: (Trope) Genderbender

Ryuu Chang smiled as he watched the bag rip. 

“You guys go ahead,” he heard Cedric Diggory tell his friends. “Let Professor McGonagall know I’ll be late.”

The Ravenclaw watched as Diggory waved off his friends and their concerns as he bent down to start collecting his belongings. After a minute, Diggory’s friends were gone and Ryuu was able to approach Diggory. This was going exactly as he planned.

“Diggory!” Ryuu called as he neared the Hufflepuff. 

“Chang,” Diggory said, glancing up. He shot a small smile at the Ravenclaw.

“I’m sorry your bag broke,” he said, kneeling to help Diggory. Ryuu wedged when he spotted a few sheets ink-soaked parchment and pieces of glass. It looked like Diggory’s inkwell broke. Hopefully there wasn’t anything important in the bag.

Diggory sighed, looking at an ink-soaked textbook. “I just got that bag,” he muttered, shaking his head. 

“How do you feel about your match?” Ryuu asked. With Malfoy injured, Slytherin’s game against Gryffindor was postpone and Hufflepuff was playing Gryffindor this weekend.

Diggory smiled, looking excited. “It should be fun,” he stated. “I hope the weather clears up.”

Frowning, Ryuu took a few seconds to study Diggory. What was Diggory so excited about? Potter was a decent Seeker, but Ryuu was better. He needed to prove it. “Potter’s no match for you,” he said, offering Diggory an encouraging smile.

Diggory frowned. “Potter’s a fantastic Seeker,” he stated. “I’m excited for a rematch.” He nodded. “Potter’s probably the best Seeker to go through Hogwarts in ages.”

He sighed, looking at the ink-soaked parchment. “I heard Potter’s better than Charlie Weasley,” he muttered, “and Weasley turned down professional offers.”

Ryuu glared. He was better than Potter. Honestly, Potter was better than Diggory, not that he planned to tell the other wizard. “You’re an amazing wizard and a better Seeker than Potter,” Ryuu told the Hufflepuff. “You’ll beat Potter – and win the match.”

Shaking his head, Diggory looked annoyed. “I just want a good match,” he muttered, picking up his bag. “I could care less who wins.” He stared at Ryuu and his eyes narrowed. “You sound an awful lot like my dad, Chang.”

Diggory shook his head a second time before he shoved quills into his bag. “Thanks for you help, Chang,” he said, tone polite. He gathered his textbooks and parchment before standing up. “I gotta get to Transfigurations, so I’ll see you around.”

Ryuu watched as Diggory walked away. He glared after the Hufflepuff. “I’ll just use the love potion,” he muttered.

Words: ~400