Switching Sides | Cedric Diggory vs. Fred Weasley

Chapter 22: Before

A/N: Trigger Warning! Millie has some pretty dark thoughts in this chapter, so read at your own risk. Don't read if you're already sad, take care of yourself!

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Cedric dropped to the ground, leaning against the wall of the corridor with tears streaming down his face as the girl he loved walked away from him, crying and in pain all because of his own foolish mistakes. There's so excuse. You fucked up, he thought, you had so many chances to tell her and you didn't. You broke her all on your own.

He held his head in his hands as he cursed himself turning slightly and punching the cold stone wall as hard as he could.

"Fuck!" he cried out, half from the pain shooting through his knuckles and half from the knowledge he just ruined the best relationship he'd ever been in.

After a few minutes, his knuckles bloody and his eyes red, he shakily stood himself up and trudged back into his common room. He had to think of something he could do. As he stepped into the room, he came face to face with Isabelle.

"Ceddy, I-"

"Don't talk to me," he growled.

"Hey," she spat. "Don't get mad at me for your own mistakes,"

"You know damn well you're the one who started it,"

"And you know damn well you took control," she whispered lowly. "You did this. You chose not to tell her. You caused her pain. Sure, I was a part of it, but you broke her."

She flipped her long hair and stormed away from him towards the girls dormitories.

Cedric could barely move. He wanted more than anything to fix this and go back to how perfect things with him and Millie were that mere afternoon, but his decisions brought him here. He'd never hated anyone as much as he hated himself. He cursed loudly, clenching his jaw in attempt to suppress the unaccountable tears that fell down his face, his eyes and ears a bright shade of red.

-

When Millie woke up, she couldn't open her eyes. The pain throbbing from behind them was unbearable. She felt nauseous, but her stomach was as empty as her heart. She had no idea where she was, all she knew was this wasn't her bed and she was in an absurd amount of pain. She shivered, pulling the blankets over herself with great struggle before she was finally able to open her eyes.

She was in the hospital wing. The curtains around her were drawn, blocking out the early afternoon sunlight that shone through the tall windows of the large, open room. She shifted her gaze and saw a flash of red hair, slumped and asleep in the chair beside her bed. What the fuck happened last night? she asked herself. She attempted to sit herself up, but her head was throbbing so painfully she couldn't move.

Her nausea was inescapable, yet she didn't think she could throw up if she wanted. She was hungrier than she'd been in weeks and she felt skinnier than usual in a sickly sort of way. She groaned involuntarily as the pain from her head began pounding harder. Fred's eyes fluttered open and a panicked expression took over his pale, freckled face.

"Holy shit," he mumbled, noticing she was awake and scooting closer to her bed. "Are you, o- erm...how do you feel?"

"Horrible," she muttered, closing her eyes tightly. "W-Why am I here? What even happened last night?"

"What's the last thing you remember?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Walking into the common room," she sighed.

"Well," he started, painfully. "I don't know exactly what happened when you went upstairs, but a little over an hour after you did, I got worried and went up to check on you and see if everything was okay and you were passed out on the ground with two empty bottles of whiskey in your hands,"