Dumbledore had let Copeland loose not long after that, looking almost flustered under his falsified calm exterior, telling her he'd speak with her later and that she was permitted to join classes that day if it was what she pleased. Despite her severe pain and unimaginable discomfort, she knew it was best to finally confront her friends. Another day of hiding and they would have snuck into Madame Pomfrey's to visit her themselves.
It was early morning when Copeland had mustered up the courage to go and sit in the Great Hall. It was practically empty except for a few early-bird Hufflepuffs, who ended up approaching her anyways. One of them was an older boy, with fluffy brown hair, sparkling hazel eyes and a soft smile that seemed permanently etched onto his flushed face.
"Hello, aren't you Copeland Lancaster?" The boy asked. She nodded and he smiled wider. "I'm Cedric Diggory, I am the Seeker for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. Nice to meet you."
Copeland offered a hand for him to shake, but he just stared at it with wide eyes. Then she retracted her hand, realizing her blunder:
"Oh. I see. No, I am not sick anymore. Cured. Non-Contagious. Just if you were wondering."
Cedric's eyes widened and he averted her eyes from her. "I-I'm sorry! That was rude, I apologize. It's an honor to shake your hand any day Copeland!" He replied back sheepishly, grabbing her hand a shaking it a little too hard. Copeland raised an eyebrow.
"And why is that?"
"Well, you and Potter are the youngest seekers in centuries. And your parents were legendary. And you, seem to be following in their footsteps. So it seems appropriate, doesn't it?" Another boy from behind Cedric piped up.
They stood there in awkward silence for a few moments before Copeland let out a sigh.
"Would you like to sit down?"
"Y-Yes, of course!" Cedric replied, the soft smile on his face blooming into an endearingly attractive grin.
But attractive or not, Cedric Diggory was one squeamish third year.
After an hour or so of stiflingly awkward conversation with Cedric, who although was a bumbling mess, was very nice and a new friend she was thankful to have, she was bombarded by Gryffindor's of all ages, all who just insisted on giving her hugs, making contact with her still very painful wounds. By the end of all of their greeting, Copeland was choking down the urge to sob.
"I am so glad you are better Copeland!" Hermione cheered, yet still standing a generous amount of feet away from her. Harry, who was much less cautious, plopped right down next to her, smiling. He slung his arm around her shoulder.
Lavender, Seamus, Ron, Neville, Parvati and Hermione all surrounded Copeland, bombarding her with questions, and Cedric and the rest of his Hufflepuff friends, which of whom Copeland didn't really bother to learn their names, thought it was their cue to go. Especially when Oliver wedged himself in between Harry and Copeland, shooting her a playful grin.
"Flirting with the enemy, are we, Lancaster? S'not my choice of strategy, but it works!" He teased cheekily, nudging her. Copeland rolled her eyes.
"Just making new friends, Oliver," She replied, smiling at him before she caught sight of two red heads of hair from across the room. Fred and George searched the Great Hall eagerly with uncharacteristically serious expressions on their faces that made Copeland feel like uncomfortable. Especially when their worried eyes finally landed on her.
They rushed towards her, mouths parted before they snapped shut at the sight of all the people surrounding the first year girl. George cleared his throat.
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LANCASTER | H. POTTERFanfiction
fu·ture /ˈfyo͞oCHər/ noun the time or a period of time following the moment of speaking or writing; time regarded as still to come. "we plan on getting married in the near future" synonyms: time to come, time ahead; what lay/lies ahead, coming times...