Harry Potter Characters X Reader

(3) Cedric X Reader

Out of the hundreds of wizards and witches gathered on the camping grounds, you just have to run into a familiar, blonde-haired prat, like he's a rather annoying shadow.

Whether you like it or not, Draco Malfoy is always there, just waiting to claw his hands into whatever is left of your optimism for the day and tear it to shreds. You can't even go on a walk with your friends without him popping out of a bush or crawling out of some den like a predator. Even if you're soaring on a high from Cedric's earlier invitation, Malfoy almost insists on wiggling his way under your skin. He's an irritation you haven't learned how to scratch yet.

You nudge Harry in the ribs when you spot the boy, nodding in Malfoy's direction. Thankfully, it's just the four of you, and you remember with a sense of relief that Mr Weasley isn't here. You don't want a repetition of what happened the last time he encountered a Malfoy, even if he is a miniature one.

But before either of you can react, Malfoy has already spotted you and he's swaggering over to the four of you with a malicious glint dancing in his cold, blue eyes before you can formulate a plan of escape.

"I knew I could smell something foul," Malfoy scorns, crinkling his nose, "You can smell a Weasley from a mile away from the stench that reeks off them. I suppose you all can't afford to take showers every day since there's so many of you. Got to save water now, don't we?"

Draco snickers gleefully as Ron's fists curl at his sides. His face is flushed crimson with anger as Hermione grips his wrist warningly.

"Malfoy," Harry spits, his tone cold and venomous, "The only putrid smell around here is you."

"Please, Potter, don't play pretend," Draco sneers, "Just because no one knocked any sense into you doesn't mean we have to put up with the peasant and the mudblood."

"You watch your mouth, Malfoy!" Ron snarls, "Before I break it in with my fist."

"I'd like to see you try," Draco smirks, challengingly.

"We all know you're a coward," Harry snaps, "Your dad isn't here so you don't have to prove your worth anything."

Draco's expression darkens, "What would you know about fathers, your father is dead."

Harry moves to lunge at Draco but Hermione pulls him back. You can almost feel the loathing rolling off Harry as his mouth twists into a frown and his eyes light up like emerald flames. You turn to Draco, imploring him with a pleading look. 

"Look, you're wasting all of our time. We've got better things to do..."

Draco sniffs, fixing a glare on you, "You're lucky you've got your pretty, little girlfriend here to protect you, Potter. Next time, I'll make sure you're not so fortunate."

Draco whirls around and leaves before any of you can say another word.

"Good riddance," Ron spits, his temper simmering, "He always has to ruin everything..."

Hermione rolls her eyes, "Don't let stuck-up snobs like Malfoy put you down. It's the World Cup. Forget about it."

Hermione drags Ron away, charging through the crowd. You're about to follow her, too, but notice that Harry is rooted to the ground where he stands. You put a hand on his shoulder and rub soothing circles, hoping to release some tension.

"Forget about Malfoy, Harry," you smile, "Let's enjoy the moment and look forward to the game..." and spending the night with Cedric your mind whispers as your heart leaps excitedly.

Harry offers you a weary half-smile as you take his hand, tracing comforting circles across the top of his thumb. He's always been good at deflecting Malfoy's attacks. But there's something ominous in the way he stares at you that has you thinking that maybe this isn't over.

You don't bother to bring it up, though, hoping Harry will release it with all his other worries.