honeysuckle. (cedric diggory.)

seven. ( the goblet of fire. )

"Though, the flick of your wrist could be slightly adjusted," she commented, and Blake stopped dead, blinking away the water that clung to his thick eyelashes, as Elaine continued, "Try it like this next time. Aguamenti!" and another jet of water squirted him directly in the eye. Milo's laughter resounded like a sweet melody, interrupted by another little snort.

"I'm going to ki —"

"Mr. Barrett! I know you aren't threatening the lives of your fellow students again!" Professor Sprout shouted, as she ducked into the common room.

Cedric leaned forward and buried his head in Elaine's lap to hide the tears of laughter that began to streak down his cheeks, and she tried desperately to swallow the smile fighting hard to surface.

"I'm going to kiss Milo!" Blake cried. "That's what I said, Professor!" He then leaned back from throttling Cedric and planted a fat kiss on Milo's smiling cheek.

Milo Wagoner abruptly snorted again, and the bated breath of the common room lapsed into laughter. Even Professor Sprout cracked a smile at Blake's antics as she shook her head, muttering about "young love these days!"

THE HALL was filled with silent excitement. Every student sat on the edges of their seats, and even the professors seemed to sit at anticipatory attention as their Headmaster finally stood up before them, his arms raised. Soft rain pattered against the windows, and Elaine gripped the sleeve of Cedric's sweater gently, her fingers trembling slightly with nerves. He pressed his hand over hers, his fingers comforting and steady, and she focused on the warmth of them as she took a deep breath.

"It is now the moment you have all been waiting for!" Dumbledore cried, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles. "The Champion Selection!"

Blake fidgeted madly in his seat, and Milo slid closer to him on the bench, until softly, softly, their thighs brushed against each other. Blake stopped dead, glanced back at Milo, but Milo only stared resolutely ahead. He merely rescued his glasses from their teetering angle and kept his eyes fixed on the podium, though his cheeks tinged pink.

Slowly, Dumbledore turned, and the lights began to simmer down as he lowered his arms. The once leaping flames grew small and feeble, flickering in the braziers and casting an eerie glow over the hall. No one even dared breathe, except Fred Weasley, whose mumbled, "Shit, this is dramatic" echoed throughout the silent room, followed closely by a grunt of pain as George kicked him.

Even more slowly, Dumbledore approached the Goblet, which loomed before him like a beacon of both hope and doom. In the low light, it looked terrifying, and a shudder ran through Elaine's body like lightning. Cedric squeezed her fingers softly as she twined them deeper into his sleeve. Dumbledore's hand brushed the side of the Goblet, and the sapphire flames guttered instantly.

Suddenly, they flared red and shot back to life with a deafening crackle. A small, rough-edged piece of parchment was launched into the air, and as it drifted down into the Headmaster's waiting hand, the hall took a collective deep breath. Excitement electrified the air as he glanced at the name written there and cleared his throat. It was time.