CEDRIC WAS IN A FINE mood on Christmas morning. Beaming as though she had just popped a very satisfying bubotuber boil, Professor Sprout had pulled him aside the night before and pronounced that Professor Snape had officially dropped charges against his alleged act of misdemeanor: he wouldn't be getting detention—he had been vindicated. Although the Potions masters was adamant not to reinstate the points he'd taken from Hufflepuff, Cedric didn't really seem to mind.
"Miss Grindelwald's account has cleared you," Professor Sprout had told him proudly, and it was all he could think about.
Having discovered a better friend—a brother from another mother, a second self—in Barnabas Stinson meant that Roger Davies ditched Cedric for breakfast. This earned him rather disapproving looks from his sister, who kindly invited Cedric to join her, the Head Boy, and a Ravenclaw prefect called Penelope Clearwater. Cedric didn't mind either of these arrangements too; at least he could eat in peace (as long as he paid little attention to their N.E.W.T. talk, which unnerved him a great deal, and concentrated on the happier bouts of their conversation revolving around presents they had received).
To top it all off, a fluffy, brightly white, owl, looking rather like it had stolen Allister the unicorn's coat, came swooping down on him near the end of the meal, delivering a small envelope.
"Who'd give you a Chocolate Frog card for Christmas?" said Roger, who was stretching his neck unabashedly to get a better look from several seats away.
It was evident he considered it an unimpressive gift, though was in equal measure keen on ascertaining the identity of the sender.
"Mind your own business," Ruth Davies called to him, then apologized quietly to Cedric for her sibling's rudeness. Roger and Stinson departed the table, the former quite huffily. Cedric didn't care about any of that...
For winter, the weather reflected Cedric's spirits well: it was clear, with the occasional gentle breeze, and the sun shone like it was spring already, the snow-covered grounds sparkling under its radiance. His homework caught up on and completed, Cedric grabbed his broom and climbed out of the barrel hole. As he approached the still life of the gigantic fruit bowl, it swung open: Ellis stepped through into the stone corridor. Noticing him, she stopped dead.
Gladly, Cedric smiled. To say that the note, which he'd learnt by heart, accompanying her Chocolate Frog card had uplifted and emboldened him was a modest statement.
Thank you for not letting me take a whiskey bath. It's not Ptolemy, but you can have it anyway.
Merry Christmas.
-A witch.
"Hey, you," he said.
It sounded better when intended and with confidence. She gave him a look as if to say, "Really?" but did not leave. Cedric took it as a green light.
"I'm going for a spin," he added, indicating his Comet Two Sixty. "Would you like to join me?"
There was a short pause, in which her eyes suddenly glinted with comprehension.
"Is that why you want to be my friend? So that I'll teach you my tricks?"
"Why do you always have to be so negative?" said Cedric, not unkindly. "I know you like to fly; I just thought you'd be interested."
"Don't pretend you know the first thing about me," she snapped. "You know nothing, Cedric Diggory."
Antagonized, she stalked off. Drinking in the first time she had said his name, Cedric roused with a slight delay.
"Then, tell me."
"What?" She had spun around, perhaps just so that she could glare at him. "Who I'll be attacking next?"
"I don't believe that," said Cedric firmly, gazing directly into her mismatched eyes. "I don't believe it's you."
Relief flickered across the silver and the black, but was almost immediately displaced by suspicion that Cedric wasn't sure if he had seen correctly.
"And why not?" Her voice was hard, but not the hardest he'd ever heard it: Cedric was right.
"There's no proof," he answered. "Potter's the one who's always been found on the scene, and even then, it's circumstantial evidence. Besides, Dumbledore said—"
"You believe everything Dumbledore says?"
"He's the Headmaster," said Cedric matter-of-factly, though deemed the question peculiar. When Ellis made no attempt to counter, he continued, "He said that it would require the most advanced Dark Magic. Even he doesn't know exactly how it happens, I doubt either of you are capable—"
"You don't think I'm good at magic?" interjected Ellis, apparently miffed.
Panic that had not visited him all that day rose inside Cedric as though an ice cube was traveling up his gut, and visibly so.
"That's not what I—where are you going?"
"To get my broom."
Cedric stood there, very elated, and very confused. Sometimes he wished he could just unlock her mind and see what in Merlin's name was going on inside.
If only it was as easy as shouting, "Alohomora!"
"How do you want to do this?" asked Cedric some ten minutes later on the Quidditch pitch.
"We Seek."
And so they Sought. Initially, they only released a pair of Bludgers and one Snitch, but it soon transpired to be a rather one-sided competition—Ellis clinched the fluttering walnut-sized ball five times in a row. Cedric was adept tactically, and tried cutting across her on several occasions to deflect her course, but neither was he as agile nor could his broom go as fast, and she outmaneuvered him without much difficulty.
Ellis had an idea...
Two more Snitches and two more Bludgers (for complexity) were, thus, added into the mix, and the Seeker catching the higher number of Snitches won. This made for a slightly fairer contest, as they could hunt for different Snitches before vying for the last one.
Theoretically, this was true, and Cedric, growing surprisingly accustomed to playing amongst four Bludgers (albeit they were at their normal levels of destruction, as opposed to "crazy"), actually managed to triumph in the final round. Although, even he had to admit it was incredibly fortuitous: He had gone for the Snitch hovering near the west goalposts and another just came flitting around his ankle. Ellis probably had to Apparate if she wanted any chance of laying her hands on that Snitch.
She accelerated towards him from where she was circling above the center line, and Cedric had the ominous notion that he had done something terribly wrong.
Was she upset about losing? Should he have let her win? He didn't think that was right, but perhaps he should have done it anyway... After all, he had set out to win her favor, not a silly game...
Her face was inscrutable. Cedric waited anxiously, one Snitch buzzing in his pocket, the other struggling in his palm. He was on the verge of blurting how sorry he was—
"Congratulations," said Ellis, cool as a cucumber, and Cedric promptly went pink.
"I was lucky," he replied, chuckling, but she did not laugh.
"People disagree," she said seriously, "but I think luck plays an influential role in sports."
Before he could respond (he was going to concur), she pelted towards the ground and touched down gracefully. Bewildered, Cedric copied, though landed with a loud thud in his hurry. He drew level with her as she locked her Snitch back into one of the crates.
"Are you...angry?" said Cedric tentatively.
Ellis snorted.
"I still beat you twenty-three to one."
"Then, why are we stopping?"
"I'm hungry," said Ellis simply. "Aren't you?"
In fact, he was. Despite his losing streak, Cedric had been having so much fun—and was convinced that Ellis had enjoyed herself too—that he hadn't noticed his stomach's protests until now. They tackled the Bludgers back into their restraints, then headed for the castle.
The walk was a silent one. Given that Ellis wasn't storming away and hadn't just quarreled with him, however, Cedric found it to be all sorts of nice.
A little ways through the oak front doors, just as Cedric was wondering if they were going to lunch in their Quidditch things, or returning their brooms back to their dormitories and getting a change first, or if Ellis would even consent to having a meal together, they met Professor Kettleburn.
Like a genie, he granted Cedric's wish.