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The castle feels different this year. Every hallway hums with speculation, whispers darting ahead of you like excited children. Harry Potter's name in the Goblet-- scandal. Victor Krum in your library-- chaos. Fleur Delacour in the corridors-- awe. But none of it rattles you the way Cedric Diggory does, waking through the crowds like he isn't carrying the potential legacy of being Hogwarts' Tri-Wizard Tournament Champion on his shoulders.
You're supposed to be rooting for Harry, the Gryffindor Champion. You clap when your housemates do, laugh when Seamus makes a joke about Cedric's hair being too perfect, chant Harry's name in the stands. You even let Parvati paint a scarlet lion on your cheek before the First Task. But later, when the common room quiets and the fire burns low, you slip out through the portrait hole with your heart drumming.
Cedric is waiting in the shadows near the greenhouses, lantern light casting his profile in gold and gray. He lifts his head when he hears your steps, and for a second the serious lines of his jaw ease. "I thought you weren't coming."
"I almost didn't," you whisper back. "Seamus and the twins didn't go to bed until about ten minutes ago." I pause, my lips pursing. "Everyone would hex me if they knew."
"Good thing we're good at secrets, then."
You roll your eyes, but the corner of your mouth betrays you. He notices-- he always notices-- and before you can move, Cedric's fingers are brushing against yours. You lace them tighter, hiding in the shadows because the whole world is against this, against you two.
You let the silence blanket you, the quiet rhythm of his thumb moving against your hand being the only way to tell time. When he speaks, his voice is stripped of the confidence and charisma he wraps himself in during the day, leaving behind the boy who's worried about letting everyone down.
"They all look at me like I'm already supposed to have won," he says. "Like I'm some symbol of Hufflepuff glory."
"You are," you say, without teasing. "But that doesn't have to be a burden. And even if you don't win, I guarantee those kids in Hufflepuff won't think less of you. I don't think anyone will."
His eyes search yours. "How can you be so sure?"
"Cedric," you say, wondering how he can't see how much those kids love him. "Even before you put your name into that cup, those kids would drink water from your hands if you offered it to them. They adore you. This won't change anything."
Cedric is quiet for a moment, trapping your pinky between his pointer and thumb, smiling softly when he sees the little gold band adorning your wrist that he'd gotten you over the summer. His smile fades a little with a sigh.
