yellow ribbon | a harry potter fanfiction

the last flower standing

"This spell saved my life just last year against Voldemort himself," at the mention of his name everyone flinched and Wendy noticed the dark creeping into Cedric bright eyes, "it may save yours in the future."

Wendy was so contented to see everyone trying their best as their first class ended. She saw her friends leaving and met eyes with Cedric, who was walking towards her.

"Hey."

"Hey," she said, almost whispering.

He thought he knew what to say once he would be in front of her, but once again, he was lost for words. Like every time he passed by her in the halls. The numerous times he turned around to call her name, but he could never bring himself to say the words. Until that day, when he saw her for more than just a simple pass by, it reminded him of all the beautiful little things she'd do to make him smile.

With a deep breath he looked at the girl, "shall we talk?"

The girl chuckled nervously, there it was. The one thing she was dreading to hear, but she knew she had to face it at one point. She gave him a nod and offered the boy to do it somewhere else.

They absentmindedly decided to go to the same place she confessed to him about her secret, and sat next to each other. But before Wendy could sit, she noticed a little daisy just by the side of foot, she moved a bit farther, making sure she didn't step on it.

Cedric laughed, "you always do that," he said receiving a confused look from the girl. "The first time I gave you flowers I saw your eyes widen so big I thought you saw something behind me—little did I know you hated flowers."

"No!" She said, "I loved the flowers you gave me, they were beautiful! I just think it's nicer for them to be on soil rather than in a bouquet..."

"Yes," he laughed, "I know that now."

Wendy was so happy to hear the boy laugh, she didn't expect this conversation to be going this well. But she knew that the topic would come to surface.

"So what do we do now?" He asked after a moment of silence.

"I don't know," she was honest.

"Wendy," he said looking far away, "you know I care about you, right?"

Wendy felt a little pressure on her chest, but paid no attention to it.

"What happened last year," he paused, "I don't think I would have survived if you didn't tell me what to do."

"Don't say that..." She begged.

"But it's true, isn't it?" He smiled bitterly looking at the hills in the horizon, "that's why you didn't want me to go for the third task, right?"

She decided not to say anything. The wind talked in her place, blowing the few loose hair she always had.

"I never had the opportunity to thank you for all that you've done for me," he shook his head and corrected himself, "I never got the opportunity to thank you for keeping me alive— but I must admit that I haven't been the same since."