Harry Potter - Lambs To Slaughter

[Neoncat]

Hogwarts was truly special. Not only because it was a renowned wizarding school, but because no matter what happened outside its walls, no matter how dark, twisted or dangerous the world became around it, it would always be a place of peace and warmth for the students.

But as Cedric Diggory glanced around him, his friends and fellow Hufflepuffs joking and laughing freely, he couldn't help but feel a sense of dread, as if something creeped down the halls, something that even the sturdy rocks of the building wouldn't be able to protect them from. The Hufflepuff Prefect was a charismatic young man, standing out not only because of his looks but because of his academic achievements. What attracted more attention though, was that even if he was "The handsome Cedric Diggory, with stunning grey eyes that could melt even the coldest of hearts, and the best hair, oh his hair" -- as some of his friend joked --, the teenager was still humble and friendly, but only really opening up to his closest friends.

"...dric" he blinked a few times before finally focusing on the blonde boy besides him. Herbert Fleet, his team's keeper, seemed anxious and kept looking towards the girl in front of him. A mix between blues and greens met brown, and the girl frowned pursing her lips in a thin line. Her black hair looked wild, probably because she had been distracted by something and she had had to put on her robes in a run.

"Cedric, can you tell Mr. Fleet here that I'm not backing out?" she looked irritated, to a point that was unusual for her. Naeva wasn't easily angered, unless certain topics were being touched, such as magical creatures and its rights -- she kept a pin from that Gryffindor's girl group, SPEW, on her oversized robes --, muggles… "He still thinks that I'm going to ran away!". Well, it was loyalty this time.

Cedric sighed, a warm smile appearing on his face as he tried to reassure his friend, squeezing his shoulder. "She has been training all summer with me" Naeva shoot him a glance that said 'I've already told him that'. "Don't worry about it Herb..." he paused, and both teenagers looked at him with raised eyebrows "I'm sorry, you should worry about it, I think she could end up being our definitive keeper you know" the girl snorted, and Herbert's face became even paler "So you better start training… after studying" the Hufflepuff's keeper had fallen behind on grades, and that had resulted on his parents forbidding him from playing quidditch that year, which also ended on Cedric finally finding an offer that his friend Naeva couldn't reject.

Cedric's melodic laugh was quickly interrupted by a pair of arms appearing around his neck and shoulders.

"Oh Merlin's beard!" one was a girl from his year, and the other one a quidditch team member, also a girl "You're safe and sound!" Diggory looked confused until both of them sat and explained themselves, the girl who had screamed pushing Herbert while ignoring his protests.

That summer his father and him, along with Naeva, the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione, had attended to the Quidditch World Cup finals between Ireland and Bulgaria. As he had expected, he had a blast, enjoying not only the match itself, being a fan of the sport he played, but everyone's excitement too.

Naeva had been screaming as if her life had depended on it, and when she had finally lost her voice she had started to whistle loudly. Her losing her voice was actually the reason why she wasn't talking excitedly about the event with one of her best friends, a Hufflepuff boy on her same year who always sat next to her at dinner. She still made wild gestures, nodding furiously when he asked if he had enjoyed the match.

As he kept telling his friends about the match, the topic slowly changed to what had happened afterwards, which was why they had been so worried about him in the first place.

Just when the Irish could finally celebrate their victory, with Naeva and the Weasley twins laughing and imitating what sounded like birds -- birds that screamed Krum, and with Naeva's hoarse voice it was hilarious -- around Ron, who had been infatuated by Krum's performance, screams that didn't sound like cheers froze the Hufflepuff prefect into place. He didn't need to ask, as his father quickly stormed into the Weasley's tent to fetch them. The portkey, he kept saying without even caring about their belongings, and only when Cedric grabbed him, trying to calm him down he managed to whisper something that nobody had expected.

Death Eaters.

The Death Eaters had burned already several tents when they got out of their own, and as they learned when everything calmed down, they had been targeting muggleborns and muggles who happened to be at Mr. Roberts campsite, torturing them with their lord's inevitable return as their mantra. Luckily for them, the ministry of Magic had intervened, but it still felt like a defeat. No Death Eaters were caught, as they disapparated as soon as the Dark Mark appeared on the night's sky, and lots of pure blood and half blood wizards had been injured too when they had attempted to defend the other victims.

Naeva had been trembling the whole night. She wasn't a coward, Cedric knew it perfectly, but who would be able to stop their shaky hands after witnessing what had happened? Nobody had slept well that night, at least at his home, with his parents reluctantly accepting Naeva's petition of not sharing anything that had happened with her father.

"Dig, Diggy" he had fell silent, with a deep frown and his mouth hiding behind his hands as he rested his elbows on the table "Cedric, hey". Naeva noticed the distress on her friend's eyes and tried to clear her throat "Earth to Cedric, Nav to Ced!" she still sounded like a smoker, but she finally had caught his attention and after rolling her eyes at his apologetic smile she kept talking. "Do you remember my first year?". He sighed, knowing that Naeva wasn't exactly a melancholic, but was probably trying to get him out of his train of thought.

"Yes" he smiled, looking at the first years entering the Great Hall "I remember that your head was so small that McGonagall had a hard time trying to keep the sorting hat straight on your head" Naeva raised her eyebrows while the boy sitting besides her laughed loudly "Didn't she give up and the hat had to sort you being sideways?" the other boy nodded, dramatically wiping a tear from his eyes.

"Thanks Cedric, and don't forget the time you offered to guide me to charms and we ended up everywhere but on charms" the blonde girl near him laughed as Cedric faked being offended by her words "Mr. Prefect here, being useful" not even the lack of proper voice stopped Naeva's sarcasm.

"And then you thought I was trying to get you in trouble and you avoided me what, for like a week? That's a lot of time if we consider that we basically sleep meters away you know" he tried to tease her back.

"Aren't Hufflepuffs supposed to be good finders though?" they all fell silent when the first kid got called. Ravenclaw. They clapped at the smiling child running towards his house's table.

"You were so distrustful your first year" the boy sitting near Naeva nodded, knowing how hard it had been for him to get past her shell "But at least you didn't break into a classroom on a broom" this time was Naeva's turn to laugh. Yeah, not many people knew, but Hufflepuff's charismatic Seeker hadn't been so talented with the broom all his life. He had improved to the point of not only being a Seeker despite his physique -- Seekers were known for being more on the shorter, less broad spectre --, but becoming his team's captain. Hard work, he would always say to the first years that asked about it, hard work and determination. "And when you got so upset because you couldn't learn to be a metamorphmagus? How much did yo…?"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the table roared, Cedric and Naeva -- or at least she tried to -- included, when a little girl ran towards their table. The brunette decided to whistle after her failed attempt of a scream, startling the poor kid.

"Shut up" she mouthed to Cedric, embarrassed about how much she had cried because no matter how hard she tried she would never be such a cool type of wizard.

@neptune

 

[neptune]

The enchanted candles floated peacefully over the chattering heads of Hogwarts students currently seated in the Great Hall. Their flames, tickled by the drafts among the high, vaulted ceilings of the castle, cast a soft, golden glow around the room. Now onto his sixth year, by some miracle and a fair amount of his scolding from his mum and professors, Fred Weasley was well onto his way to graduation, being a full-fledged adult who would have things like responsibilities and a career. Thinking too far into the future had never been the lanky ginger's favorite subject, and as he looked around at the Gryffindor house table and caught sight of his brothers, his sister and friends, he was hit with an incredible wave of nostalgia.

In his mind, his own sorting ceremony felt like a world away. Fred remembered being nervous for the entire train ride, but hiding that vulnerability with an obnoxious confidence and big claims that even if he didn't end up in Gryffindor, he would still be the most interesting Weasley to ever grace the halls of Hogwarts. Then there was the boat ride across the lake with Hagrid, the lanterns lighting the way toward the massive castle in the distance. Despite being a pureblooded wizard, no story or tall tale from Charlie, Bill or Percy had prepared him for what was inside.

That same nervous energy bubbled inside of him now, his foot bouncing restlessly beneath the table as George, a mirror image, bumped him with his elbow. "You're looking a little misty there, Freddie."

Maybe he was, but that faraway look quickly vanished from his face, morphing into a smirk as he gave his twin a shove on the bench. "Your eyes deceive you, as usual." The group that was largely made up of his family, also included Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Saoirse Deasy and her annoying little brother. They had run into the girl and her family at the Quidditch World Cup that summer, an event they were lucky enough to be invited to by Diggory and his dad. It was supposed to be a once in a lifetime match, and it was—Fred had gone hoarse from all the screaming and cheering—but he remembered that day for one reason alone.

"They just started burning the place up," Saoirse explained to another eavesdropping house member. "I thought our tent caught fire from one of Weasley's fireworks—"

"I told your brother to light that outside!" Fred defended, as if he hadn't been scared when all hell broke loose.

"Hush!" she shushed him, waving a hand through the air in his direction, "anyway, I thought it was a firework. I didn't see much; my dad got us out pretty quick."

Fred couldn't say the same for himself. After the match, his family and friends were split up all over the place and it had taken Cedric's dad rushing into the tent to even catch him onto the fact that something was amiss. He remembered looking for George and Ginny and then for Harry and Hermione and wanting to make sure Cedric's friend was alright since she was a muggleborn, but the incident was overwhelming and left him rattled. Weren't the days of living in fear supposed to over with after baby Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord with his forehead?

Up at the front of the hall, the Sorting Hat had put a new student into Hufflepuff and their table was going wild. Fred didn't bother to clap, not even politely, too invested in the conversation now. "It was those Death Eaters," Oisin said; he seemed small and out of place among the older kids, yet stayed glued to his sister's side whenever possible. Saoirse gave a skeptical shake of her head, as if she didn't read the paper and hadn't seen the Dark Mark in the sky.

The very mention of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's followers had the lot of them casting their eyes across the room, over tightly packed bodies and around heads to eye a pale blond at the Slytherin table. "Well he didn't do it," Fred said, finding it hard to believe that just because someone was a git that they also wanted to cleanse the world of muggle born wizards.

"But his dad," Harry spoke in a hushed tone. Fred didn't have an argument against that, and watched as the dark-haired boy rubbed at the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

That dusty old hat was finally on their side and Fred perked up, cheering and whooping as an excited first year rushed toward their table. The boy was small, dwarfed in his robes and it looked as though he could trip at any moment, but he made it safely, welcomed into the fold with open arms. Beside Saoirse, Oisin craned his thin neck with interest, apparently regretting his choice to sit with the older kids.

"The Prophet said a handful of them were apprehended," Hermione said once the cheering and celebration for something as simple as house pride temporarily came to an end, "and Hogwarts is safe. We all know that."

Professor Dumbledore sat in the center of the teacher's table, his long, white beard and kind eyes behind a pair of moon-shaped spectacles were a comfort for many, if not all, of the students. Fred took a moment to regard the older man before turning back to his friends. "I think we're forgetting the keyword from this story," the others raised a few brows, waiting for him to continue, "quidditch! We have a real shot at the cup this year."

Saoirse tuned out, not coordinated on a broom to care too much as Potter and the Weasley's discussed their strategy; she liked watching as much as the next person, but she didn't care how a game was won as long as the result was favorable for Gryffindor. She turned her eyes toward the front of the room once more, the line of unsorted first years growing shorter every few minutes. Each of them looked so nervous, so wide-eyed as they took in the sights around them. It was hard for the redhaired girl to get a grasp on her seventh year and final year at school. There were more lasts in front of her than firsts and the feeling was bittersweet.

Another one for Hufflepuff, and Saoirse looked over at the table, clapping because the fair-haired first year girl looked so happy.

 

[Neoncat]

Naeva let Cedric satisfy their friend's curiosity, uncomfortable with the idea of remembering every single detail. She could still feel the flames raising around them, the overwhelming heat and the heartrending screams as she grabbed her friend's sweater for dear life. At some point she had even made eye contact with one of the hooded men, whose mouth was still visible and showed a twisted smile when she felt the girl's eyes on him.

The sorting hat startled her, and this time she didn't whistle to the new Hufflepuff student. Noticing that she had been scratching her hands, already full with little colorful band aids, she grimaced. It was an old habit on hers, and while she didn't consider herself an anxious person she did know that she had to improve when it came to... processing her negative emotions.

Cedric had turned around almost completely to welcome the new girl, and while doing so he distinguished Saoirse in the Gryffindor's table. Until the quidditch world cup he hadn't really talked to the redhaired girl, but he wasn't a complete stranger to her existence. He remembered having seen her one or twice, perhaps at Potions? While he wasn't closed to the idea of making friends from the other houses, most of his group consisted in fellow Hufflepuffs, something that now that he thought about it was a bit embarrassing. They were on the same year, and well, he could have bothered to at least introduce himself to the girl and…

Realizing that he had been staring in her direction with an absent expression on his face, he waved at her with one hand and rubbed the back of his neck with the other, shrugging and giving her an apologetic smile. He looked behind his back afterwards, to tell Naeva about the other's presence, but noticing that her face was paler than usual he frowned.

"Are you feeling alright, Naeva?" the girl nodded, looking wide eyed to her friend, having been caught "... If you say so" he knew that pushing wouldn't get him anywhere "Look, Deasy, Granger, Potter and the Weasleys are just in front of us". The brunette looked unsure at first "Go, greet them" she raised her brows "They'll greet back if they see you Naeva, you're worrying too much about such a simple gesture" after Cedric's reassuring smile she waved shyly towards the Gryffindor table, hiding her mouth behind her sleeve. She had been quite talkative and sociable during the quidditch cup, intoxicated by everyone's excitement and friendly atmosphere, but now, back at Hogwarts, she felt a little bit embarrassed about her behaviour. While she was as friendly as any other Hufflepuff she struggled with the first few interactions every time, unable to read people at all, and having to guess if they found her likeable or unbearable.

But when she finally found herself comfortable enough around her friends…

"Wait, were the Weasleys the guys you were talking about earlier?" Jacob, her best friend, looked at her as if she had grown three heads. He had been caught in the twin's pranks a few times, mostly being just harmless accidents when their jokes got out of hand their first years "Our little, sweet Naeva..." the girl made an oof sound when he hugged her, trapping her head against his chest "...Around such a bad influence, Diggory! How could you!" the brownhaired boy raised his hands, pleading himself guilty.

"Pffft!" Naeva pushed the other boy "I'll show you sweet and little!" she raised her fists, giving playful punches to the boy "Fight me D'eorian!" the boy laughed, also moving and raising his fists as if they were on one of those muggle...boxing matches?

"Well, now that we're all settled in and sorted" the students turned their attention towards the headmaster. Dumbledore looked almost excited, grinning and raising his hands as he tried to get everyone's eyes on him after all the first years joined their houses. "I'd like to make an announcement"

"Dueling club" Cedric covered his face, trying to dissimulate a snort because of Naeva's whisper having caught him off guard. Every single time, after Lockhart's exposure, her friend had wished for the club to return without any results, why would this time be any different?

"This castle will not only be your home this year..." whispers filled up the room, and most heads turned to Filch, who entered the Great Hall, running towards an unshakable Dumbledore "... but home to some very special guests as well" the man kept running, and while that usually meant bad news -- usually because it meant someone was being chased by him --, now, on the silence of the Great Hall, it was kind of funny "You see, Hogwarts has been chosen…" when he finally made it, the soft whispers he and Dumbledore shared weren't audible to the students giggles. "So..." Filch started to run again and for a moment Cedric worried about him having a heart attack, was he only on shape when he chased down students? "Hogwarts has been chosen to host a legendary event" the dramatic paused killed Naeva. "The Triwizard Tournament"

"Wicked" the brunette heard, but her expression said it all, she didn't know what was that all about, but looking at how Cedric had opened his eyes and he and his friends were looking at each other as if they didn't believe Dumbledore's words, it had to be something big.

"For those who don't know, the Triwizard Tournament brings together three schools for a series of magical contests" Oh. Oh! That sounded cool! Now she understood everyone's excitement "From each school, a single student is selected to compete" some were groaning, knowing that the possibilities of being chosen were so little "Now listen to me" Dumbledore seemed serious "If chosen, you stand alone. And trust me when I say, these contest aren't for the faint- hearted" if he had wanted to calm his audience, he had completely failed, with the students raising their voices. "But more of that later, for now, please join me in welcoming…" a sudden noise behind the Great Hall's closed door attracted everyone's attention "...the lovely ladies, and gentlemen, of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic" the door opened "And their headmistress, Madame Maxime!"

What Cedric first noticed, well, what most males and some females of his table noticed instantly was how stunningly beautiful the girls were. While they moved towards the end of the Great Hall, walking gracefully and perfectly coordinated, the Hufflepuff boy felt something almost unnatural on their beauty. It was as if he couldn't take his eyes of them even if he tried.

Naeva on the other hand, while she had elbowed her friend on his ribs when he couldn't help but whisper something about the girl's… possessions, was more focused on their Headmistress. Merlin's beard! And she thought that Hagrid was tall! The woman even wore high heels, looking even more tall! How didn't she fall? Her balance had to be out of this world! Dumbledore looked like a kid besides her!

As tiny birds made of paper chirped around the tables, Naeva and the other girls took their time to tease and scold the boys. "Do you want a bucket so you don't drool on your robes?". Cedric blushed, something unusual on him, or at least so brightly, as he unconsciously brought one of his hands towards his mouth, winning a laugh from his friend. When they clapped, Naeva looked unimpressed by the boy's whistles and strong claps, shaking her head in embarrassment. They looked like hungry dogs. And from Ginny and Hermione's faces at the other side of the room, the Hufflepuff boys weren't the only ones affected by the newcomer's charms.

"And now our friends from the north" but little did Naeva know "Please greet the proud sons and daughters of Durmstrang" that she would soon be teased back "And their headmaster, Igor Karkaroff!"

What they first felt were the sound of canes on the ground, increasing in number and volume, to the point of being similar to explosions or a giant animal's steps. And then…

"..." while the male students of Beauxbatons looked like princes, the Durmstrang boys, well…

"Do you need your bucket back Naeva?" she ignored Cedric's words, completely hypnotized by the Drumstangs choreography. Sparks were coming out of their canes as they hit the ground, with a rhythm that the brunette could swear her own heart was starting to follow. When they left the canes on the ground and some of the students ran towards the end of the doing different acrobatics, and spitting fire, she couldn't help but open her mouth slightly in amazement.

"Oh! It's Krum!" the famous Seeker made his way towards the back, but Naeva was too focused on one of his schoolmates, who kept moving a bird made of fire around. "....I think we've lost her" Jacob joked, being also ignored "Yeah, gone, definitely."

Wait, Karkaroff, that sounds familiar. Cedric followed the man's movements, something in his guts telling him that he had to remember as soon as possible why he knew that name.

 

[neptune]

Sometimes it was easy not to think about anything at all, and while the others talked quidditch and House Cups, Saoirse was content to look around the Great Hall and soak up the atmosphere. It was her last sorting ceremony, and she was surprisingly emotional, her arm around her younger brother as she gave his thin shoulders a squeeze. In many ways, she was envious of her younger siblings, each of them still having so much life ahead of them before they were plunked into the real world; her eyes found her sister at her respective table, the collar of her robe a rich blue as she waited for the Sorting Hat to give Ravenclaw a new student.

Apparently, zoning out made it look like she was simply staring at people, and it took a nudge from the ever-observant George Weasley to get her to notice that someone was waving. Being from different houses, Saoirse didn't know Cedric Diggory personally, but he'd certainly lived up to his reputation at the World Cup, just as nice and helpful as ever, personable and kind. Smiling back, the redhead raised a hand and returned the friendly gesture, somewhat embarrassed herself. Oisin followed suit, and soon enough the group of Gryffindor were all waving, some genuine and others—like Fred Weasley—were downright sarcastic and meant to make her blush.

"Oh, isn't he fit," Fred joked.

Hermione and Ginny might have giggled in agreement, but Saoirse wasn't having it. After years of dealing with the pranksters, she knew when Fred was only trying to get a rise out of someone. "Shut it," she said, though her stern tone was betrayed by a laugh and a smile. "Wasn't it you swooning this summer?"

Fred balked and shook his head, the ends of his ginger-colored hair swaying with the movement. "I don't know what you're talking about, Deasy. The only swooning I saw was Ron losing it over Krum."

"What?" the younger Weasley asked, indignant and likely ready to argue with the older boy who had just reached out to ruffle the other's hair.

The banter continued with all of them claiming someone had a crush on so-and-so, whether they were attainable or not. In true Gryffindor fashion, they had missed the rest of the sorting, not only neglecting to clap for the excited first years that joined their house, but also missing the opportunity to be good sports and cheer on the other houses. It wasn't until Professor Dumbledore took to the podium with an announcement did the lot of them quiet down. Fred turned in his seat, his elbows on the table and his stomach starting to growl as the old wizard spoke of the Triwizard Tournament. For the first time ever, his hunger was abated, and he turned to his twin brother with a grin. "Now that's something we have to look into," he said, serious in spite of the smile on his face. Winning any contest had to come with eternal glory, and Fred was all about being praised and remembered.

"He said one student," George pointed out in a whisper.

Fred waved that logic off like so many annoying Cornish pixies, a look on his face that said George was thinking much too deeply inside of the box. He opened his mouth to speak, ready to talk of the ways in which they could put their twin powers to good use, when Dumbledore introduced the first of the two other schools that would be competing. The girls from the French school looked like fairies, dressed in modest yet intriguing blue garments that flowed and shimmered in the candlelight with each choreographed step they took. Much like the other boys, Fred's train of thought paused as he watched them go, even more beautiful than the enchanted birds they had conjured up.

Thankfully, the spell was broken by the Giantess that brought up the end of the introduction. Fred blinked and then shook his head, though his younger brother was still beside himself, mouth agape and eyes glazed as Hermione gave him a smack on the arm. Beside them, Harry snickered and the wild-haired fourth year huffed an insult at the pair of them. "As I was saying," Fred went on, though Dumbledore wasted little time in cutting him off again. The redhead frowned, "forget it." They could talk after the feast.

The boys from Durmstrang sauntered into the room with all of the subtlety of a sack of bricks. They had a commanding presence just striding down the long aisleways of the Great Hall, but the acrobatics and fire-breathing showed that they were a force to be reckoned with. Fred perked up, not surprisingly more interested in explosions than pretty girls in dresses. "Is that…?" he began.

"It's him!" Ron said excitedly, his eyes wide, "it's Viktor Krum!"

The Bulgarian had entered the room with Headmaster Karkaroff and the Great Hall was a mixture of cheering and gasping, amazed that the living legend himself had graced their school at all. The star power was real and infectious, perhaps even a bit insidious, or maybe that was just the reservation that Saoirse was feeling.

"D'you think he'd give me an autograph?" Oisin gasped, the hopefulness of his expression not eclipsed by his excitement as he looked up at his older sister.

It was one thing to worship from afar at a quidditch match, but going to school with him and seeing him around the castle felt a bit strange. Still, she patted Oisin on the back, "I don't see why not." Even from his interviews, Viktor Krum didn't seem like the type of person who liked to be bothered. He was strong and silent, more on the mysterious side and Saoirse knew plenty of girls with his picture taped to the inside of their trunks; he was never going to get a moment's peace.

For whatever reason, her eyes returned to the Hufflepuff table, back to Cedric who didn't look as star-struck as some of the others. She studied him for a moment, her eyebrows pulling together as he watched Igor Karkaroff approach the front of the Great Hall where Dumbledore was waiting with an open-armed greeting. The two seemed to embrace one another like old friends, but her eyes moved again, falling on the new DADA professor, who—even with one eye—looked skeptical. His gaze was trained on Potter, and Saoirse saw The Boy Who Lived take another frustrated pass at the scar on his head. Over the summer, Granger seemed overly concerned with the boy's comfort and now Saorise was starting to wonder if he was alright too.

With the fire-bearing staffs laid to rest and the Great Hall more full than it had ever been, Dumbledore's booming voice brought the attention back to where it needed to be. "Expect more announcements about the Triwizard Tournament in the coming days and weeks," he said, "for now—we welcome our new friends to their second home and welcome one another back for a new year. Feast and enjoy!"

Food appeared on the previously empty plates before them, down the center of the table and overflowing from several dishes. As many times as Saoirse had watched it happen before, it never ceased to amaze her and she grinned as Oisin immediately started to dig in. The cozy, nostalgic atmosphere returned and the redhead forgot all about whatever suspicions were starting to brew in the back of her mind. For now, she just wanted to enjoy herself and the beginning of the end of an era.

 

[Neoncat]

Naeva's stomach growled when the food appeared on their table and she didn't waste her time, filling her plate with anything she could get her hands on. Cedric followed her suit, but looking less desperate than her even if he was equally starving.

"So, are you going to try?" the young man looked up, not understanding what his friend was asking him about "The Tournament, are you going to try?". He stopped eating, moving the food around on his plate as he thought about it.

"It's too soon" he admitted "But I guess that trying won't hurt" the sparkles on his friend's eyes said it all, between the two of them she was already the one more excited about him taking part on the competition. "Besides, only one student is going to be chosen, that I want to, doesn't mean that I'm going to"

"Can you imagine? Our Cedric, a Champion!" one of the Hufflepuff girls squealed at his side, making some other students turn around to figure out what was the ruckus about. He cleared his throat, uncomfortable about the unwanted attention.

"As I was saying, it's too soon, we don't really know anything about it" he kept insisting, but his friends were too caught up into the idea of their best student putting the Hufflepuff's name out there. It wasn't as if the badger's house didn't have already plenty famous wizards around the globe, and supposedly one of their main traits was humbleness, but… A bit of fame, a bit of recognition... It didn't hurt anybody.

After the initial ruckus everyone slowly calmed down, focusing on their food and striking trivial conversations, as always. They were asked a few times about the World Cup, but when desserts came in everyone's curiosity seemed to fade away.

"Oh, by the way, Johnson is the new Gryffindor captain, right?" Hufflepuff's ex-keeper nodded towards the older boy "I was thinking about asking her about training, a friendly match against us" Naeva lifted her face, frowning and with her teeth sinking in a pumpkin muffin "So Navs gets used to playing against another team, it's not the same if we just split our team and play, I want her to experience a match"

"Oh yeff" the muffin almost fell from the girl's mouth, and she struggled trying to stop it from crumbling apart, to which Cedric couldn't help but laugh at it.

When everyone was finally done Dumbledore made a quick announcement, apparently extending their curfew so they could meet their new guests, who even thought they were probably tired of their travel, were as excited as the Hogwarts students to learn about their new hosts. It was obvious, when some of the boys grouped together and moved towards the French girls, that some of them had in mind something more than meeting some new friends, but that could also could be said about some of the female students, who were already swooning about the boys from the other school. Cedric could already spot the birth of what he supposed was officially the new Viktor Krum's fan club, as all the students who gathered had only eyes for the quidditch star and he shook his head, knowing how difficult was going to be for him to enjoy his visits and already giving up on his idea of asking Krum seeker advice.

"Do you think I should ask the fire guy about his spell?" he noticed Naeva shyly walking besides him, looking at the Durmstang table "I don't want to intrude but…" Cedric frowned, the voices around him turning into static as his brain finally decide to work.

Igor Karkarov. Hadn't he been a death eater?!

Naeva was smiling at him, smile that slowly turned into a worried expression when she felt his arms going around her shoulders, pushing her a bit closer to him. "Cedric?"

But, he had been judged, and he had cooperated with the investigation too, which didn't mean that he wasn't on their side anymore… Besides, hadn't he been under the Imperiatus curse? Cedric couldn't remember the tiny details, as he only had learned about it through his father, who liked to talk to him about the Ministry for hours and hours. The man loved his job, and that was one of the main reasons he respected Mr. Weasley, as he also loved it no matter how much he was looked down by other wizards because of his fascination with muggles.

"Cedric, you're going to crush her" Harry's amused voice woke him up of his train of thought, and he looked sheepishly to Naeva, who raised an eyebrow but didn't complain about his weird gesture.

"Sorry, didn't want to lose her" noticing the boy relax and the tease on his voice she frowned "You know, being so…" he put one of his hands on her head "...I'm surprised we didn't lost her back at the World Cup" she was about to argue, raising one of her fingers at him, but he kept talking "How are you doing, Hermione?" There was no tease this time, only concern.

"I… I am…" Hermione was caught off guard, quickly realizing what he was actually asking about "I am fine, thank you Cedric" she offered them a small smile.

"So, Krum, what are the odds?" It seemed fated, just like Cedric heard Ron whisper between sighs, who would've thought that the quidditch star they had seen playing just a few weeks before would be under the same roof for…. Wait, how much the tournament was going to last? All year? "Ah, Harry" the Boy Who Lived looked at him "Have you seen Johnson? We want to test our new keeper" Naeva's gaze moved towards her friend for just a blink "I thought a small training match with you could be a good idea…" he grimace when Ron interrupted him.

"Do you think we could play against him?!" Yeah. The second youngest Weasley was swooning, maybe too much, over Krum "I could ask him to sign my broom!" Cedric squinted his eyes, confused for a second "...Oh, no… I can't, I wouldn't want to use it anymore afterwards, and I can't buy a new one" Hermione rolled her eyes, relieved that Ron had at least a bit of common sense in him to not just go and ask Molly about the matter.

"You can ask him to sign your face, you don't wash it anyways" he was so focused on the Bulgarian that Ginny's comment went over his head, while Harry, Naeva and Hermione appreciated the joke with a snort.

"Don't give him ideas" Cedric followed, looking at Ron, who finally came back to reality and watched as Hermione and Harry kept laughing harder at his confused expression.

"I don't see why Johnson woudn't agree to it" finally the boy with a scar answered "Who's your new keeper by the way?" Cedric shrugged, mouthing 'who knows', which only sparked Potter's curiosity.

 

[neptune]

Some were more sentimental over the feast than others. While Deasy may have gotten all choked up at what was possibly her last ever Hogwarts-made pumpkin pasty, Fred wasn't all that worried about it. In his mind, the feast that kicked off the new year was just a pre-lude to more homework and long days, teachers telling him that he didn't try hard enough and George echoing the same sentiments as they copied their homework from Angelina. He glanced toward the other Gryffindor somewhere down the long table and flashed a cocky smile in her direction and she smiled back until she realized that he wasn't George.

Women—how fickle.

The castle was massive and even on his best days with the Marauder's Map, Fred was sure that he hadn't explored every stony nook and cranny, but the addition of two other schools sure made the place feel cramped. The first week of lessons had been interesting, but homework was homework and the routine settled in without fuss. Fred's things were a mess, rolls of parchment already squished beneath books and bottles of ink left to dry out in the open without a stopper. He had never been the most serious student, but with his final years approaching, he should have tried a bit harder.

Of course, the idea of being serious about something was entirely foreign and it shouldn't have surprised anyone Fred was slacking off during study hall when he should have been working on an essay for Potions. It was a mixed hour, the Great Hall less half full but represented by handfuls of students from every house. George had retreated to the end of the table closest to the door, always the more studious and reserved twin, and he had been complaining about needing to get his Charms work done before Flitwick had a conniption. Under normal circumstances, that type of fearful dedication would have rubbed off on him, but Fred was brave…and easily distracted.

Leaving his books open, his parchment unfurled and his quill leaving an ink splotch on the table, Fred wandered over to the Hufflepuff table for some conversation. He passed a rogue girl from Beauxbatons on the way, and her blue outfit made him look twice before he found himself sliding up beside Naeva Welsh, the deceptively spirited girl who had come to the World Cup with them over summer break. "Studying?" he asked, leaning with his arms braced against the table and his long legs out in the aisle. He was sure that a teacher would come along and smack him sooner rather than later, but it was a risk he was willing to take.

"Me too," he claimed. "What if I told you I was just bullocks at charms?" He hadn't gotten to know her very well when they were together, but he had always been aware of her thanks to quidditch. She seemed shy off the field, much softer than the way she played and the fact that someone might have a bit of real depth interested him. "Flitwick might as well just fail me, you know?" he continued on, "because I'd rather talk about how Gryffindor is going to crush Hufflepuff next week."

Girls liked some friendly trash talk, right?

What her mother said was a time for reflection and coming into her own was eclipsed by the excitement of the Tri-Wizard Tournament and Saoirse hadn't been able to focus on much of anything since. All of the fuss over Krum and the fact that every boy she knew was currently drooling over one of those French girls didn't help any, of course, and the redhead had smacked her fair share of arms during the first week of lessons. Although it wasn't something that she was ever going to admit, she wished that some of her classmates would look at her the same way, that boys saw her as more than a plucky friend. Luckily, Saoirse had never been one to dwell on her shortcomings for very long.

Now that classes were back in full swing, Saoirse settled in for another rousing Potions lesson. Professor Snape had never been someone that Saoirse liked—he was abrasive and short-tempered and he was always looking for reasons to take points away from Gryffindor and give them to Slytherin. The redhead had lost count of the number of times that she had done something wrong in his beady, dark eyes—though nothing compared to the time she had accidentally shattered an entire vial of Unicorn Blood on the floor during her fifth year.

Currently, Saoirse found herself partnered with Cedric Diggory as they tackled brewing a Skele-Gro potion. It was relatively simple on the surface, but required preciseness and a steady hand. "I guess if you ever get hit with a bludger, you'll be okay," she joked as she added another ingredient to the simmering cauldron. It fizzed and bubbled between them, the smoke on top going from a muddled green to a rather whimsical white. Saoirse gave the mix a stir with a large wooden spoon and sat back into her seat.