Occulemens || Draco Malfoy

Chapter 6 - Afraid

When I took my seat across from Cedric, desserts were beginning to flow. I didn't bother scooping any onto my plate, afraid of the repercussions of feeding my anxiety. Instead, I decided to simply watch Cedric. Soak in his mannerisms, try to catch up for the last year of mental absence. I wondered how he could deal with Autopilot Rowan—if she was so robotic. So... Maggie-esque. He noticed the differences in my own mannerisms, there was no way he hadn't noticed. I folded my hands into my lap.

Cedric was, by all conventional definitions, beautiful. He had a symmetrical, soft face. His resting face was one of neutrality, one that he could contain. If you blinked at the wrong second, you may miss the fear evaporating from his pores at the current moment. The way that he blinked his own grey eyes was indicative of his own anxiety. His slate-colored irises were almost hidden by the deepening shadows of the evening as the lights fell in the Great Hall.

The storm was coming in. I just had no idea yet. Everything was there, every sign, every warning.

His eyes flickered to me, and he smiled, his top lip disappearing as his teeth peaked out. "It's going to be just fine," he mouthed as though I were the one who needed to be calm. I wasn't sure how to respond, so instead, I lifted my hand and reached across the table. His own hand met mine, warming my chilled fingers, giving one light squeeze before he turned to face the front of the Hall. Silence fell slowly. Cedric didn't lift his hand.

"The moment has come!" Dumbledore announced, just loud enough for everyone to hear. I tuned out of his speech that was sure to be lengthy introductions and procedural information. I replayed my interaction with Malfoy over in my head, noting the intensity in his glares this time around. He was typically a healthy mixture of pessimistic, anger, and playfulness. This time, it was hard to decipher him.

He had been baring his icy eyes into mine without breaking contact when I shook my head. Effectively lying to him. From there on, deciphering him wasn't necessary. His disappointment was insurmountable—I feared anyone who missed that might surely be blind. His head fell back as he rolled his shoulders back, not bothering to remove his hands from his pockets.

When his eyes hit the ceiling, I could see the chiseled line of his jaw in the shadows as it locked. He was tense. I was tense as well, feeling lightheaded as I unlocked my knees.

These were details I should've never noted.

Students began to clap, and I followed suit, trying my best to keep my eyes away from the Slytherin table. Under my jumper, I shivered once as I flashed my eyes to Batemius Crouch, who Cedric seemed to recognize.

Filch carted a casket from the back of the Hall toward Dumbledore. I certainly wouldn't have trusted Filch with such an antique, expensive looking object. Not-so-carefully, he placed the casket in front of Dumbledore before backing away.

I could've heard a pin drop. It seemed the perfect opportunity to flash my eyes to Malfoy. No matter what happened, no noise was allowed to escape my lips. No exasperated sigh, no questioning groan. Nothing. Without moving my head, I quickly swept my eyes past Cedric to the other grey-eyed boy, who was paying me no attention. I wasn't surprised, but a bit disappointed. He seemed so concerned about the situation when were standing in the corridor; just for him to pretend it never happened.

Dumbledore broke the silence to explain the rules. Three champions, one true Triwizard Champion decided by the Goblet after three life threatening tasks. Totally normal. Dumbledore drew his wand, wordlessly tapping the casket. As he did, he lifted out a wooden cup, which looked, if I'm being honest, incredibly bland. I had looked away so quickly in discredit that I was confused when the Hall became tinted in blue.