Draco, Cedric & You

The Goblet

YOUR POV

The first few weeks of the term have flown past in a flurry of excitement. The Beauxbaton students seem to float through the hallways, leaving a trail of salivating boys in their wake. Despite the constant distraction they pose, I am ultimately very glad that they will be competing in the Triwizard Tournament, as it means there is one less brutish Viktor Krum lookalike for Cedric to compete against. That is if Cedric gets selected for the tournament, of course, but over the past few weeks I haven't been able to shake the nagging feeling that somehow he already has been.

I look up across the library table at Hermione. Her face is screwed up in deep concentration as she pores over the inky text on the enormous, yellow-paged book in front of her. Her light brown hair seemingly crackles with the electricity of her thoughts.

I am suddenly aware that I am not the only set of eyes fixed on Hermione. A dark, brooding gaze is moored in our direction from the bench across from us, its black eyes intensely studying the concentrated, sparky haired girl in front of me. I turn my head to decipher his face but he quickly drops his gaze, his cheeks slightly flushed. I catch a glimpse of a chorus of giggling second and third year girls scurrying behind the nearest bookcase. Clearly the admirer has admirers.

I realise now his face is one I have seen splayed across posters in the boy's dormitories, Viktor Krum. I almost chuckle to myself. Perhaps the brutish boy is a silent romantic at heart.

"Hey. Hermione," I whisper, nudging her foot with mine underneath the table. She looks up, startled, as though she forgot I was there.

"What is it?" She whispers curiously.

"I think you've got a secret admirer," I watch as her face turns to a deep pink blush, "Viktor Krum."

"I - what? Don't be ridiculous," she exclaims, alarmed.

"Shush," I laugh, "keep your voice down he's literally a few feet away."

She smacks her forehead with her palm. I smile knowing that Krum is definitely watching this entire interaction.

"..I have noticed he's always in here, and I was a little intrigued, I suppose... and he always seems to sit near me even when there's lots of benches available.." she whispers to me and my excited grin widens.

"Uh so go and talk to him then??" I say as though its the most obvious thing in the world, although secretly I too would be absolutely terrified to approach the internationally renowned Quidditch champion who left scorch marks on the ancient stone floor of the Great Hall with his staff, and ask him what he's reading.

Hermione groans exasperatedly.

"Ok well if you don't want to do that you just casually walk by him then, and oops, you accidentally dropped your book! You have to bend over to pick it up and either scenario one: he watches you, and is then guaranteed to strike up a conversation, or scenario two: he reaches for the book, your hands meet, then your eyes and its love at first sight. Voila," I finish with a smile, knowing I have just come up with the plan Hermione would be least likely to enact. The blush on her cheeks deepens and she rolls her eyes.

"Drop this book, you mean?" She gestures to the thousand page, leather bound: 'Encyclopaedia of Transfiguration', "I'd probably end up breaking his foot."

"Then you get to take him to Madame Pomfrey, nurse him back to health, you fall in love. Voila."

"Oh, this is just getting absurd. If he wanted to talk to me, he would," she says as she gathers her belongings and packs them away in her satchel.

We pass Krum's table, and subsequently his fan club in the next aisle, as we exit the library. I sneak one last look at Krum's expression, his eyebrows knitted in deep thought.

Hermione and I begin to make our way to Transfiguration when I hear a familiar voice shout my name from behind me. I turn to see Cedric rushing past students in the corridor to catch up with us.

"Hey! [y/n]!" He shouts before he finally reaches us, barely out of breath.

"Yeah Ced?"

"Come with me to put my name in the goblet for the tournament," he asks, "please?"

I look guiltily at Hermione but she doesn't seem annoyed.

"Go on," she says with an eager smile, "I'll cover for you with McGonagall."

Cedric and I walk in the opposite direction towards the room that houses the Goblet of Fire.

"I thought you had already put your name in?" I ask.

"No," he says shaking his chestnut brown hair with a smile, "I was waiting to do it with you, but it's hard to catch you sometimes."

"Sorry," I say, squeezing his hand. He was waiting to do it with me.

It would be impossible to admit that I have been avoiding this very event because of the undeniable sense of dread I feel towards the Triwizard Tournament. How could I put a damper on his excitement? His face is practically glowing.

We enter the room and I am struck by the Goblet up close for the first time. Its mesmerising blue flames seem to dance tantalisingly, burning an azure hypnosis into the pupils of its spectators. Cedric steps forward and withdraws a slip of paper from his pocket. I shiver. The hum of chatter in the room drops slightly as people turn to watch. "Go on Cedric!" I hear a cheerful voice exclaim from the side of the room. Cedric, grinning, turns towards me and lifts my chin, planting a soft, warm kiss on my lips. Another flutter of chatter waves across the crowd, and I feel my face warm with a little embarrassment. Cedric steps away from me and determinedly crosses the ring of fire, planting his name in the cup with one swift motion. There is a violent roar as the purple-blue flames are expelled upwards for a second, then they subdue and resume their hypnotic dance. Cedric is swarmed by the cheering spectators and I would have been crushed in the commotion, had he not swiftly reached for me and lifted me up with one arm to meet his lips in a triumphant kiss. I look into his gleaming face, the bright blue light behind his head contrasting his beautiful brown features, and I smile. He nods gleefully to his friends and accepts their encouragement, their pats on his back or ruffles of his hair, but one of his hands remains tightly locked into mine. I know I cannot stay much longer, so I look up at him apologetically and plant a kiss on his cheek. He reluctantly releases my hand, not without giving it a final squeeze. I pick up my pace as I exit the room. I quickly turn back to see him but I can't, he has been fully engulfed by a crowd of bodies.

Please. I wish to myself. Please don't choose him.

CEDRIC'S POV

I lose sight of [y/n] as I am blocked by a swarm of my friends, congratulating me and chattering excitedly. I accept it gratefully, though I can't help but think it is a little premature. I haven't even been chosen yet, and no amount of desperately wishing to be selected will help me. The Goblet of Fire will decide.

My body is a mess of nervous excitement as I envision myself holding the Triwizard Cup high, high into the air. My dad's proud, beaming face from the stands. [y/n]'s beautiful face in a proud sparkling smile. I want to be their champion. Her champion.

Please. I wish to myself. Please choose me.

Writer's note!
*3 chapters in one day?? I'm spoiling you. Hope you like this one, please leave me a comment and a vote if you do! love ya xx