Amelia Phelps was an anomaly-a rare Muggle-born in Slytherin, never expected her sixth year at Hogwarts to spiral into chaos. A chance encounter with a mysterious woman in a dark alley unlocked secrets she wasn't ready to face, and falling for Cedri...
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The following days seemed rather uneventful. However tonight was different: August was now back in Snape's classroom, down deeper in the dungeons, to make the Draught of Living Death again. She was given a Dreadful remark, alongside few students from different houses, and was sanctioned to remake the potion in their free time—which unfortunately was after class. Nicholas had detention with Professor McGonagall for sleeping in her class for the third time. Philip was doing his prefect duties. Amelia was alone.
Amelia sat quietly on her bed, her thoughts a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. She longed to tell Cedric everything—about her discovery, about Anastasia Black—but the timing felt wrong the first task was so soon. It felt selfish, to burden him with her concerns when he was already carrying so much. The Tournament and the pressure of being a Champion, it was all over him, and here she was, thinking about her own secrets and discoveries.
They hadn't really talked in a week. It was strange, and not just because they hadn't exchanged words. It was the absence of their usual closeness, the way their conversations used to flow easily, the way he would lean in, whispering possible solutions to the anagram now that they had solved it. They didn't have that anymore, and it stung more than she cared to admit. They were still sharing classes, yes, but Cedric had become more absent recently because Rita Skeeter, a corresponding writer from the Daily Prophet, had been pulling him out of class. Amelia reckoned they were being interviewed.
Amelia, for the entirety of the week, had half a mind to duck into any empty corridor the moment she caught sight of Cedric walking her way. Her heart always gave a traitorous lurch, and her pulse quickened like she'd just been caught nicking a Fizzing Whizzbee from Honeydukes. But she kept her gaze firmly fixed on the floor, pretending she hadn't seen him. Embarrassment prickled hotly at the back of her neck, her cheeks burning as though she'd been hit with a particularly nasty hex. Of course, she'd ignored him on purpose. How could she not, after what she'd blurted out?
"I've been having quite a dilemma these past few days," she'd said, words tumbling out like spilled potion ingredients. "I like you. Well, I did. I liked you."
Her heart had been hammering threatening to burst straight through her chest. It wasn't something she'd planned, not in the slightest. But the weight of it had been too much to bear, and if she didn't get it out, she'd surely have exploded.
She'd been staring at Cedric, praying for a glimmer of understanding, or perhaps even hope. Instead, his expression had shifted into something unreadable, a look that only made her feel more unsteady.
"You're with Chang, after all. Or whatever that is," she'd added hastily, the words pouring out in a desperate attempt to save face. "I've decided it doesn't matter. I can be friends with you."
"Alright," Cedric had said after a pause. "Friends, then."
And that was it. Two words. They weren't cruel, but they weren't comforting either.
