George Weasley was balancing a stack of teacups and saucers on his nose, carefully levitating the next one to the top of the pile. Fred stood before him, arms spread wide. "Stand back!" Fred was saying to the crowd of second years that bustled around the twins, "You don't want to be in the line of fire should the whole stack fall!" He looked around at them, "Not that we expect it to fall, mind, George here is a master of control and balance!"
There was a clinking sound and Fred looked up, wand at the ready, but the sound was only George having successfully landed the next cup on the top of the stack. Fred looked amazed and shook his head, "By Godric, George! You've never done TEN HIGH before!" he turned 'round to the second years. "Who here had their knuts on nine? Anyone? I believe you sir... you bet he couldn't do more'n nine, didn't you?"
A Slytherin second year boy scowled and clapped two knuts into Fred's outstretched hand before he turned and stormed away.
"Aw too bad, mate - come back next time and set your stakes higher!" Fred chuckled. He looked 'round at the other kids. "Anyone want to take a bet on ten being the most he can stack?"
Roger Davies was sitting on the stairs, watching the act, shaking his head. "Oh don't be thick," he whispered, watching as a Hufflepuff boy held up a silver sickle and put his bet on ten cups being the most George Weasley could balance.
Suddenly Herbert Fleet sat down beside him. "Hullo Davies."
Roger looked at Herbert. "Fleet." Then, as Cedric sloped up and leaned against the bannister, Davies added, "Diggory."
"'lo," Cedric said. He stared at Fred and George, George bobbing his head about as the tea cups and saucers clinked and clattered, barely keeping them balanced. "What's on here?" Cedric asked, tilting his head.
"I'm not entirely sure how, but they're swindling half the lower years out of --" Davies tapped his fingers, doing some quick calculations, "-- about one galleon, twelve sickles, and thirteen knuts.... so far."
Cedric and Herbert both turned to watch the twins.
"Why haven't you stopped them yet?" Cedric asked.
"I'm fascinated how they're doing it."
Cedric laughed, "Bad prefect, you are." His lip curled in a teasing smirk and he shoved off from his perch against the bannister, walking up as Fred was magicking tea cup and saucer number eleven up... up... up... "Hey Weasleys," Cedric said, wading through the crowd of tiny students. "How's things?"
"Things are going brew-tifully," Fred answered completely straight so that Cedric almost didn't hear the pun. Fred's eyes sparkled. "How about you, Diggory?"
"Haven't talked to you in oolong time," George said, voice strained from under the stack of cups.
"What's this all you've got going on?"
"Just a little bit of fun," Fred answered, grinning. "You wanna make a bet? We've just placed the eleventh cup." Fred waved his fingers at the poor Hufflepuff boy who had bet his two sickles and grinned as the coins clinked in his palm. "You wanna give it a chai, Diggory?"
"Sure I'll have a go." Cedric reached into his pocket, glanced at Roger Davies, smirked, then dug out exactly one galleon, fourteen sickles and thirteen knuts. He held out his palm and grinned at Fred.
Fred stared Cedric in the eyes for a moment, then glanced at Roger Davies watching from the stairs. He looked back at George, then back to Cedric. Cedric never once stopped staring at Fred, his eyebrow raised.
"Steep bet," Fred muttered.
"Double or nothing," Cedric nodded.
Fred considered this.
George was looking over from the corners of his eyes.
"Unless of course you don't think you can do it?"
"Of course I can do it!" George was indignant. "Done eleven, what's one more?"
"Dunno. I thought perhaps you might've met your matcha." Cedric smirked.
"Oh damn that one's good," Fred ceded.
George sniffed. "Put the cup on, Freddy."
Fred looked up at the stack. "Really, George? Twelve?"
"Yeah why not. Put it up there."
Fred waved his wand and produced another cup in his palm. He looked up at the top of the stack, then started levitating the cup up to the top. Cedric watched him place the cup, and as it landed with a shiver, George's eyes widened with surprise and Fred said, "Sip sip hooray! That's twelve, Diggory." Cedric smirked, handing Fred his money as Fred grinned hungrily, pocketing it. "Anyone for thirteen?!" he asked.
Cedric reached in his pocket.
"You just can't be-leaf George is able to balance even more?" Fred asked, "Diggory, Diggory... We can do this all night, mate."
"And take all the galleons you've got while we're at it," added George.
Cedric took out another galleon. Fred's eyes flashed and he looked at George with a grin. The second years all around were wide-eyed as they watched Cedric hold up the shiny gold coin. Then... to everyone's shock... he took out a second gold galleon.
From the stairs he heard Herbert shout, "OOOooo-oooohhh," loudly and Davies ask ,"What the bloody hell are you thinking?"
This was such a dramatic move that even Fred echoed the sentiment. "What the bloody hell are you thinking, Diggory?"
Cedric wasn't done. He pulled out a third galleon.
"Diggory, you can't be serious," Fred said, chuckling nervously.
"Three galleons says the thirteen tea cup falls," Diggory said calmly.
Fred laughed, "You're tot-tea-lly crazy, Diggory." He grinned and conjured another teacup.
"Wait," Cedric said. He turned to one of the second years standing there. "Can you conjure a teacup, please?" he asked.
The boy looked thrilled - he was a flush-faced Ravenclaw and he'd been practicing teacups all summer long - so he waved his wand and shouted the spell and a wonky little tea cup appeared on the carpet. The cup was red with gold leaves, which stood out quite a bit from Fred's heinous orange and purple diamond pattern. Cedric bent down and picked up the cup. He held it up. "Objective party places the cup."
Fred glanced at George.
"Go on, Fred," George said confidently, "For three galleons, we've got this."
Fred looked up at the tower of stacked cups.
Cedric asked, "What's wrong, Fred?"
Fred said, "Nothings wrong!" defiantly, then cleared his throat. "Go on then, whipper snapper. But do it careful-like!"
The boy looked very self important and he waved his wand. "Wingarrrrdium Leviosa!" he cried out, sending the red cup up to the top of the stack. George crossed his eyes, looking up at the stack, watching the new cup add on. Everyone there watched with hushed breath as the Ravenclaw boy carefully - much more carefully than Fred had done with the other cups - placed the thirteenth cup on the top of the stack.
There was a strained moment of silence as everyone watched the thirteenth cup land on top of the other twelve. The stack teetered in a funny way - and Cedric knew what he'd guessed was right and he smirked, watching as George struggled to keep his nose against the bottom of the stack, his back bending to keep them balanced. Fred watched, clutching his wand and looking very nervous and strained. For a moment, it looked as though the twins might actually pull it off -- but then down the hallway someone slammed a door coming out of a classroom and it caused just enough breeze in the corridor that the cups teetered once more and George quickly moved to correct for the breeze, but it was too late, the top cup slid and came crashing down, smashing on the carpet.
Only the thirteenth cup.
Cedric looked at the broken cup on the floor.
Fred looked at the cup on the floor.
And, forgetting he was supposed to be balancing, George looked at the thirteenth cup, too.
The other twelve stayed levitating.
"Heyyyy!" shouted Davies, catching on. "Fred, you're not really letting go of the levitation charms when you stack'em!"
Fred swore.
"Finite incantantum!" called Herbert and with a resounding crash, all twelve cups dropped, George shouting and hurriedly dropping out of the way of them as the first few hit his face before falling to the floor, all twelve cups shattering into a pile of orange and purple bone china on the floor.
"Good one, Fleet," laughed Cedric.
Everyone stared at the broken glass.
Cedric looked up and held out his hand.
"Ferfredssake," swore George and he took the bag of coins from Fred's hands and dropped it into Cedric's.
"Thank you," Cedric said. "Nice playing with you."
The Weasley twins were burnt and they rushed up the stairs, heads together, cursing as they went, glancing back at Cedric Diggory with spite. Cedric passed out the coins everyone had lost tot the twins, then pocketed his own, leaving only the two sickles the Slytherin lad had left behind. He put it in a different pocket, deciding he'd pop over to the Slytherin table to return it later at dinner.
As the crowd in the corridor broke up, Herbert bounded over, "That was hilarious. You really had me going, I thought you were going to lose your galleons for a second there."
"I knew it was a scam of some sort," Davies said, coming over, too. "Nobody can balance thirteen tea cups on their nose like that..."
"Bet I could," Herbert said, "You wanna bet?"
"No," Davies replied. He turned to Cedric, "Brilliant work."
"Ced's always doing brilliant work," Herbert supplied, grinning. "That's why he's got to go out for the Triwizard Tournament."
Roger Davies looked concerned, "You're not really thinking of doing it, are you?"
"Yeah," Cedric said, puffing up, "I was thinking on it. Aren't you?"
"It crossed my mind when Dumbledore made the announcement, but then I was reading up on it a wee bit and -- well, I dunno now." He reached into his book bag and withdrew an old-looking tome that he must have gotten from the library. He held it out to Cedric, who opened it to one of the myriad of book markers that were tucked in the pages.
Cedric blinked at the images on the pages in surprise. The book was old, the worn pages stained from years of use, and the photos were grainy and they didn't move - this was from a time when the magic was that the pictures existed at all; no muggle books of similar age would have more than drawings. Truth be told, though, Cedric sort of wished the book didn't have pictures after all - there were heinous things being depicted in those photos, a lot of gore and guts. Herbert took the book and Cedric made a face as he ran his hand nervously through his hair.
"Is that man impaled by a swordfish?" Herbert asked, looking up from the page he'd turned to. "Brutal!"
"Yeah, there's been some pretty radical stuff that's gone on in the Tournament... There's been loads of deaths for a reason. Not a lot of safety measures and a good deal of dangerous events. It's insane the stuff they made these kids do back in the day. And they had no age limits!" Roger Davies reached over and plucked the book up and flipped back a few pages, then handed Cedric the book again. "One year, a first year signed up and the Ministry let him have a go at it! The poor kid didn't live through the first ten minutes of the first event!"
"Is that - is that the giant squid?"
"No, that's not Nigel," Cedric said, squinting at the grainy picture.
"That sir is a kraken," Davies said. " The winner that year won by default. He was the only one still alive after the first two contenders were eaten alive by the sea monster. He never even had to compete."
"Brutal," repeated Herbert. Herbert grabbed the book and flipped through the pages, wincing and gasping as he went.
Roger Davies said, "Anyone who looks at that book and still wants to try out - they're nutters." He shook his head.
"Well Dumbledore said there would be more precautions this year," Cedric said, defending himself because he'd seen the book - was seeing it now as Herbert paused on a page of a boy on fire and nudged Cedric to look at it - and he still wanted to compete. He still wanted that glory. He felt recklessly desperate. He had to do something to earn all the praise his father always gave him and he could still see that mental image of his mum and dad, reunited in their joy as they watched their boy hoist the cup over his head... as the stands went wild, shouting his name and music playing... he could see the confetti and the fireworks and feel the weight of the cup in his arms as he held it up for the whole of Hogwarts...
Cedric took the book back and stared down at the pages. "I mean... it's a matter of being able to outsmart the situation, isn't it? Every one of these events were tested by someone, there's a way to play and win each one of them. It's just a matter of knowing what that way is, I s'pose. Being able to figure it out. Be on your toes. Think quick. Know enough to be able to adapt to a situation. It's like that..." He paused again at the page with the kraken.
Davies tapped the page, "You think you could go up against that thing and win?"
"I mean, if I researched krakens and knew what their weaknesses were and --"
"You don't think that poor bloke in the picture hadn't researched krakens before getting in that tank of death?"
Cedric shrugged, "Who knows."
"You've got a bleedin' death wish, Diggory," Davies said, shaking his head.
"I haven't got a death wish," Cedric argued.
Herbert looked at Cedric with concern. "You're seeing this right?"
"Oi, who's side are you on?" Cedric laughed, "C'mon, Dumbledore wouldn't let anything like that happen. He's insane but he isn't THAT insane."
Davies shrugged. "I'm just saying, the Triwizard Tournament isn't a game. It isn't something to joke about with..."
"I'm not joking about, Davies," Cedric said solemnly. He looked at Herbert, "C'mon, what happened to you being all full of confidence that I had what it took, huh?" he asked, "Don't tell me a couple old pictures and you're doubting whether I can do it or not?"
Herbert looked at the picture on the page of the book, "I just don't want that to be my best mate, Ced."
"It won't be me," Cedric said, and with a determination like he'd never felt before, he added, "Because I'm going to bloody win."