She was a misfit, he was a git.
Matilda Diggory enters her fifth year of school, ready to remain as under the radar as possible, only there's a catch. She's somehow managed to catch the eye of a particularly annoying redhead, who seems hell-bent on...
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Without a second to doubt herself, Matilda stood from the table and bolted for the door which Harry had disappeared through, paying no mind to the shouts from her friends as she dashed between the tables. Snape stepped between her and the stairs to the staff table, but Matilda shoved him away roughly, beelining straight for the door she'd seen Harry and Cedric disappear behind.
Professor McGonagall's voice cracked through the air as her hand seized Matilda's arm, fingers biting into her skin. Matilda tried to yank free, but another grip—Professor Sinistra's—closed around her other arm, holding her in place.
"Please, Professor!" she cried, her voice raw. "You have to reason with them! It's wrong—Harry can't go in! He can't!" Her words broke into a desperate shout, her chest heaving. Around her, the Hall had fallen silent, every eye drawn to the scene unraveling before the staff table.
"Do something! Don't just hold me—go after them!"
"Calm down, Miss—" Sinistra began.
"I AM calm!" she snapped, though her trembling limbs and frantic eyes betrayed her.
With a violent twist, Matilda broke free, shoving them aside and bolting the last few steps to the chamber. She threw open the door and slammed it shut behind her, dragging a nearby chair in front to wedge it shut.
Inside, four heads turned.
There stood Cedric—her brother, whom she'd entirely forgotten in the rush—and Harry, Fleur and Krum, flanked by their respective headmasters.
All eyes turned to her.
Matilda found the challenge in Karkaroff's eyes and relished in it. "No," she said simply, placing herself in front of Harry like a barrier. "He cannot participate."
Bagman sighed. "His name was drawn from the Goblet—"
"He didn't enter!" she snapped. She turned her head, locking eyes with Harry. "Tell them."
Harry shook his head mutely.
"See?" Matilda turned back triumphantly.
"The boy could be lying," Madame Maxime offered coolly.
Matilda's temper flared white-hot. "Are you that dim?" Her voice rang off the stone walls. She jabbed a finger toward Dumbledore. "You know he didn't put his name in. You know this isn't right!"
"Matilda, hey, careful what you say—" Cedric's voice cut through the air, low and steady and suddenly his arms encircled her, holding her thrashing body against his. "I know–"
"Don't you start, Ced!" she shouted, stamping hard on his foot. He winced, releasing her.
Matilda spun back to face the adults. "You have to see what's happening. First the World Cup, and now this? Someone tampered with the Goblet and you're all pretending like this is fine?"
