Always the Fourth choice

Who looks good in yellow anyways (not me)

She understood what his dark brown eyes were saying and took less than three steps before standing between his knees and hugging him as she let him wrap his arms around her shoulders and he relaxed his muscles, which had been tense since the game, finally letting go of the bitter exhale he had yet to release. She felt warm, like she belonged, he felt secure, like he could be weak, just this once. There were no tears, no speeches of encouragement, and no corny jokes. It was just two friends basking in the other embrace to feel comforted for the first time in months. Marien didn't want to admit it but everything had scared her, had stressed her out, exams, Cedric,  the rumours, and the constant threat of being petrified, she was thirteen for god's sake, she couldn't handle it all, she was burnt out and so was the fifteen year old athlete she held so dear. Passerbyers either made sure to take another route or barely blinked an eye. Gryffindor's adored Hufflepuffs and Hufflepuff's admired Gryffindors, in most cases of course. 

They let go of each other slowly but she remained close, their arms crossing over each other while leaning against the ledge and made smalltalk of Oliver's dread of being in sixth year and her in third, taking turns of making fun of old teachers and predicting new ones, talking about how she had become closer to Susan, actually being friends and Oliver's future dreams as a keeper in the quidditch cup, as she unashamedly asked for one of his quidditch sweaters with his number on the back to sell when he's famous, he laughed at her of course but reminded himself to fetch a clean one later. 

They walked away from the corridor almost refreshed and ready for anything (that didn't include the golden trios shenanigans).

"Thank you." He had suddenly said, which almost caused her step to falter, he guided her with a hand gently as she looked up at him.

"For what?" she asked, genuinely confused.

"For being my friend" He answered, eyes never leaving the path in front of him to ensure they didn't fall, though his eyes met hers briefly and he smiled, before looking back. She just nodded, letting her pinky hold his, barely even making contact as she admired the greatness of the castle.

"You better not make me regret this." She grumbled, laced with humour. He leaned his head back slightly and laughed. He didn't reply but she felt his lose hold on her pinky strengthen slightly, as if saying 'I won't'. 

They had to temporarily part as he needed to visit Flitwick concerning a missing assignment due to him catching a cold from vigorous training in the rain, which of course ended with the Clark hauling him to the infirmary seeing as nobody noticed his sickness, to be fair of course he was good at hiding it.

She stood outside the classroom sitting on a bench and sketching a nearby wren, writing its attributes and features, a hobby of hers when she needed a break or to focus her scrambled brain. She had been doing it so much she had a mismatching book she fondly called 'Mundane creatures and the locations you'll see them', Susan, her roomate, had a sweet habit of pointing out little animals around the school to add to the collection, which although appreciated she had a habit of pointing the same bird repeatedly, but Marien never told her that and thanked her each time.

The thing that caught her off guard from her spacing out was the sound of loud footsteps, yellow robes and familiar cinnamon scent. She looked up to a pacing Cedric Diggory in all his glory looking like he was attacked by a flock of pixies. He seemed frustrated, and blinded by her feelings and disregarding her common sense she went up to him in concern.

He had one hand on the wall and the other on his face, seemingly worn out. she cautiously approached.

"Are- are you alright?"