adiaphoron | d.m

TWENTY-EIGHT

➸ The Third Task

JUNE HAD CREPT IN, and the third task loomed closer on the horizon, an ominous yet exciting event that filled the air with a palpable tension. Surprisingly, Cecilia felt an unusual sense of calm regarding the challenge ahead; her nerves were tightly wrapped and untangled, much to her own amazement. Yet, underneath that composure lay a yearning for more time—a desperate hope to unravel the complexities of her situation. It was as if she hovered on the edge of a crucial realization, a puzzle she couldn't quite piece together, and the frustration of it gnawed at her like a persistent itch.

Breakfast in the Great Hall was nothing short of chaotic, an explosion of sound and motion that mirrored the excitement buzzing through the student body. The long tables were alive with chatter, laughter, and the clink of cutlery, everyone eagerly anticipating the morning of the third task. Cecilia sat amidst her Slytherin friends, their spirited conversation swirling around her like a whirlwind. Despite their jovial atmosphere, she felt detached, her mind darting elsewhere, unable to fully engage. Her friends, accustomed to her silence, refrained from nudging her to participate in their lively banter; they recognized that her focus had been elsewhere.

Her time had been consumed by Harry and the task that awaited him. For weeks now, she had devoted herself to ensuring he was prepared, pouring over strategies and lessons with him, offering support and encouragement. In the midst of this, there was Cedric, his affection still lingering like an invisible thread connecting them. But her dedication to them had created distance between her and her friends, and she felt the weight of that.

As she attempted to savor her eggs—fluffy and buttery, cooked to just the right consistency—an unexpected wave of commotion erupted nearby. The laughter of her friends pierced through her thoughts, a series of whispers punctuated by giggles that drew her attention. Frowning in confusion, she lifted her gaze, scanning the bustling hall to see what could possibly be the source of their delight.

Her eyes landed on her friends huddled together, completely absorbed in something that shimmered with joy. They were all leaning over an article, the parchment crinkled and well-read, their faces alight with amusement.

Unable to resist, Cecilia reached across the table, her fingers brushing against the cool surface of the article. As she pulled it toward her, she found herself wondering what revelation could bring her friends such happiness. The atmosphere was charged, and for a moment, her own worries faded into the background as she prepared to dive into whatever had captured their attention so completely.

HARRY POTTER "DISTURBED AND DANGEROUS"

The boy who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-BeNamed is unstable and possibly dangerous, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Alarming evidence has recently come to light about Harry Potter's strange behavior, which casts doubts upon his suitability to compete in a demanding competition like the Triwizard Tournament, or even to attend Hogwarts School. Potter, the Daily Prophet can exclusively reveal, regularly collapses at school, and is often heard to complain of pain in the scar on his forehead (relic of the curse with which You-Know-Who attempted to kill him). On Monday last, midway through a Divination lesson, your Daily Prophet reporter witnessed Potter storming from the class, claiming that his scar was hurting too badly to continue studying. It is possible, say top experts at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, that Potter's brain was affected by the attack inflicted upon him by You-Know-Who, and that his insistence that the scar is still hurting is an expression of his deep-seated confusion. "He might even be pretending," said one specialist. "This could be a plea for attention."

Cecilia halted her reading, her attention drawn away from the article as she raised her gaze to her friends. In that moment, she caught sight of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle huddled together, making exaggerated faces at Harry. The sight sparked a familiar protective fire within her. Her friends watched her intently, their expressions a mix of concern and anticipation; they knew all too well how fiercely she defended Harry, and they braced for her inevitable response.