Until Next Year

618 23 6
                                    

You sat in the Great Hall, staring up at the emerald green banners that hung from the enchanted ceiling, smiling. Slytherin had won the House Cup. Again. Not to mention that you had once again bested Wood and taken possession of this year's Quidditch cup, as well. Your housemates watched as the Gryffindor table wallowed in despair to which you smirked silently. Oliver glared at you from across the room, which you returned with an innocent shrug, making his face turn as red as his robes. The chatter among the students increased with each passing second, the student body overcome with excitement. Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, Dumbledore stood for his end of term speech as the entire room fell quiet.

"Another year gone! And what a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller and you are all a bit wiser than you were... But, it is not to worry, you have the whole summer to empty them out before the next year starts." A comment which received several laughs as it was inevitably the truth. Dumbledore smiled before continuing, "I have been informed that I do not need to address the matter concerning the Quidditch cup as I believe the it has already been taken care of, thanks to the insistence of Mr. Wood and Ms. Middlebrook," Dumbledore grinned, eyeing both you and Wood, making several laugh. You smirked as Adrian and Terence smiled, exchanging high-fives. "And now, as I understand it, the House Cup, needs to be awarded and the points stand thus; In fourth place, Gryffindor, with 312 points; in third, Hufflepuff, with 352. Ravenclaw has 426 and Slytherin, 472 points."

The Slytherin table erupted into cheers. Your grinned as your friends began to exchange hugs and distribute pats on the back. Matt set you a prideful smirk as your House once again turned into a mass of ecstatic screams and shouts. Dumbledore held up his hand, silencing the Great Hall, as everyone turned to look at him, listening intently.

"Yes. Well done, Slytherin. Well done, Slytherin. However..." he paused as your heart hammered anxiously in your chest. However? You had won, hadn't you? You exchanged unsure glances with Adrian and Terence as the faces of your fellow Housemates fell. He wasn't going to do what you thought he was, right? Wrong. "...However recent events must be taken into consideration and I have a few last minute points to award. First, to Mr. Ronald Weasley, for the best played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor 50 points." The room stayed silent, just before the Gryffindors erupted into a fit of applause. The Slytherins scowled and rolled their eyes. This couldn't be happening.

"Second, to Miss Hermione Granger, for the cool use of intellect in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor 50 points!" Your rival House once again shouted their praise as your own House booed in opposition. Dumbledore hushed the crowd, before continuing, "Third, to Mr. Harry Potter for pure nerves and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor House 60 points!" You couldn't believe what you were hearing.

The noise that escaped the two Houses was deafening. The Slytherins shouted things that probably should never be put into writing or ever repeated, while the Gryffindors basked in their newest victory. You were now tied for the House Cup. This couldn't possibly be happening. Slytherin deserved to win, undoubtedly. You cursed under your breath, sending a maniacal glare in Oliver's direction, who was smiling smugly. Dumbledore raised his hand, once more.

"There are all kinds of courage. It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to your enemies but just as much to stand up to your friends. I therefore award 10 points to Mr. Neville Longbottom! Which means, if my math is correct, a little change of decoration is in order!" With one swift motion, the elegant silver and green banners were replaced by bold, gold and scarlet flags. Gryffindor had won the House Cup! The Slytherins cursed and yelled, many throwing down their hats in frustration and displeasure. Some even cried. You, however, just stood there, your temper skyrocketing.

Oliver glanced in your direction, just as the magnificent feast appeared on the long wooden tables. He gave you a smug smile, mouthing a sentence that made your blood boil. "I told you, (Y/N)! I told you we would win!" Your eyes flashed a malevolent red and Oliver shrunk away, ever so slightly. This wasn't the end. Not even close! Just you wait Wood! Wait until next year!I will crush you! You will feel the full extent of my wrath!

Too Shy To Tell You (Cedric Diggory x Reader)Where stories live. Discover now