Too Shy To Tell You (Cedric Diggory x Reader)

Gryffindor Wins?

               The crowds went wild as both teams soared high above the stands. You looked down at your cheering house and beamed. This was where you belonged. This is what you wanted to do for the rest of your life.
               The Slytherin team circled the stadium, showing off their speed and skill. Feeling the wind rush past you led your team towards the middle of the field. From here, you had a direct view of the Hufflepuff stands. You lowered your broom, hovering about 5 feet over Madam Hooch's head. You scanned the yellow and black stands, searching for him. It was too crowded to see. You were just about to give up, when out of the corner of your eye, you saw his taffy colored curls, bouncing up and down wildly. You turned your head to look at him.
               Cedric was jumping up and down, waving his arms about, uncontrollably. You smiled. He thought this was conspicuous? He stopped as soon as your gaze landed on him. He gave you the biggest grin and blew you a kiss. Heat raced to your cheeks and your stomach plummeted. You averted your gaze, hoping he hadn't noticed your discomfort.
              The screech of Madam Hooch's whistle shook you out of your daze. The crowd fell silent. The game was beginning. The Gryffindor team had positioned themselves directly across from the Slytherins. The white haired woman peered up at both teams, her yellow hawk-like eyes glimmering. "Now I want a nice clean game..." She paused, eyeing your team suspiciously. "From all of you. Captains please shake hands and the game will begin." You let out an exasperated sigh as you shook Oliver Wood's hand.
              "You're going down," you snarled. Before the game commenced you let you gaze hover above Wood's head. There, on a brand new Nimbus 2000, sat none other than the boy who lived. You held back a gasp as you scrutinized the scar on his forehead. Gryffindor's new seeker was Harry Potter? A first year? He was Wood's secret weapon? You shot Terence, who also seemed to notice the black-haired first year, a look of confusion. He shrugged and you turned back around to face the center of the field. Madam Hooch gave both teams a thumbs up before she kicked open a small rectangular box, laying in the middle of the field.
               A gold ball flew past your face and disappeared from sight, just as two heavy black balls swooped past your head. "The golden snitch is up, followed by the two bludgers," Lee Jordan commented into a large gold megaphone. A second whistle pierced the air and a red ball came sailing up from the ground. A third whistle blew, just as you had reached up and caught the Quaffle.
"The Quaffle has been released. It is now in, Slytherin team captain, (Y/N) Middlebrook's possession. Wow! Would you look at her go. She's headed straight for the goal posts. She throws the ball and...scores! Ten points to Slytherin!" You beamed as Lee reviewed you plays. Flint had captured the ball and was heading toward you. He threw you the ball and you raced back towards the hoop. Adrian distracted Wood as you aimed, and once again scored. "Another 10 points for Slytherin. Come on Gryffindor! Step up your game! Kick those Slytherin's..."
"Lee!" Professor McGonagall's voiced rang out through the stadium as she scolded Lee's biased commentary. You rolled your eyes, focusing once again on the Quaffle. Much to your dismay, the ball was now in Gryffindor Angelina Johnson's possession. You exchanged glances with your fellow chasers and with a nod, all three of you sped after the dark haired girl. Adrian was just about to make a grab for the Quaffle, when an earsplitting scream struck the air. You scanned the field, your (E/C) landing on the infamous boy who lived.
The whole school's eyes were soon glued to Harry, as his broom attempted to buck him off. With each jerking turn, the broom rose higher and higher above the field. It was as if someone was purposefully trying to kill him. Again. You heard cackles from the crowd of Slyhterin's, but you stayed emotionless. You weren't the nicest Slytheirn, that was for sure, but you weren't wicked like most. And you certainly didn't want anything to happen Harry. Even if he was a Gryffindor. You didn't know what to do.
Someone nudged you in the ribs. You turned to see Adrian holding the Quaffle. He cocked his head to the side in question. You nodded and rounded up your team, with the exception of Terence, who was still searching for the snitch. While the rest of the Gryffindor's were busy, your team would seize the opportunity to score more points. You shot one more glance at Potter, before taking the bright red ball and throwing it through the goal posts.
You could make out the sound of the buzzer going off in the background, signaling another point had been scored. "(Y/N)!" You traced the voice back to Flint. He pointed to the stands that housed all of your Professor's. You instantly noticed the problem. Professor Snape was on fire! You soared towards the stands.
"Professor! Professor Snape! Your cloak! Professor! You're on fire!" You shouted at the greasy haired man. He looked at you for a moment, irritation coating his features, until he processed what you were saying. He stood up in a hurry, trying to put the fire out, knocking over Professor Quirrell in the process. The crowd behind you went wild.
You spun around, just in time to see Harry regain his balance and start heading full speed toward Terence. The snitch. They'd found the snitch. You watched anxiously as Harry began to catch up with your Slytherin teammate. They were neck and neck. They began to plummet towards the ground, never taking their eyes off of the golden ball. The noise inside your head was so loud. This was the make or break moment.
Time seemed to freeze. You were barely able to process what was happening. You watched as Terence came to a skidding halt, but Potter kept going. He was standing on his broom, arm out stretched, before he lost his footing. He tumbled to the ground. You held your breath, waiting for the crash. Harry landed on his rear, and quickly began to cough and sputter. Oh My God! He's going to be sick! You averted your gaze, but then you heard it and your entire body seething with anger. "Harry Potter has caught the Golden Snitch! He has been awarded 150 points! Gryffindor Wins!"