Chapter Text
“Kill the spare.”
Cedric wakes up gasping for breath with tears blurring his vision, and he wonders what he had just been dreaming about. He sits up as he scrubs at his eyes. Why was he crying in this dream? Was it even a dream?
“Cedric, you up mate?” Patrick, his best friend, asks over the rustling of his roommates getting ready for the day.
He takes in a steadying breath, to make sure his voice won’t shake, before replying, “Yeah, just woke up.”
“Better hurry up Ced, today is the big day and we want to make sure we have good spots for watching the Goblet of Fire during breakfast,” Devon, another close friend, announces. “I’m certain you’re going to be picked. Better you than Warrington.”
Right, he thinks, today is the selection of champions for the Triwizard Tournament. Cedric climbs out of bed and searches for some clean clothes. They still have class, sadly. He goes through the motions of getting dressed, and his tie gets shoved into his bag for now. His first class is with Sprout and she won’t mind if his tie isn’t on. His mind still swirls over the end of his dream. Those words seem oddly familiar even though Cedric knows he has never heard them before. He can’t think, for the life of him, what could have caused him to have such an ominous dream—or nightmare really.
He follows his friends from the common room to the Great Hall. The excitement for the events this evening is palpable as students lean in to chat with friends or move about for the best view of the Goblet of Fire. Some of the Gryffindors look to be in stitches over something. Cedric glances about as he takes a seat next to Maggie and her twin sister Cassie, the last of their friend group for their year, and he absently begins to pile food onto his plate.
“The Weasley twins tried to get around the age line with a potion,” Cassie tells them conversationally as she butters a slice of toast. “They got quite the beards as a punishment, but they were tickled pink by them to no one’s surprise.”
“I imagine it left an impression on our guests,” Patrick muses, cradling a cup of coffee between his hands.
“Beauxbatons looked amused for the most part. Durmstrang, well, I’m worried they don’t know what humor is as no one really cracked a smile,” Maggie answers with a wince.
“With that grumpy headmaster of theirs there might not be much joy in that school,” Devon mutters, and Cedric can’t help but agree.
“If the Goblet doesn’t pick you, Ced, which it’s dumb if it doesn’t, who would you like to see represent Hogwarts?” Cassie asks him.
Cedric tries to recall who has tossed their name in so far. He submitted his name last night with some of his friends, and he knows he saw some of the Slytherins do the same—the perks of having the dorms so close to the Great Hall. No one really comes to mind, but then his gaze slides to the Slytherin table. Personally, he thinks Cassius would be a good choice to represent Hogwarts, despite Devon’s conviction the Slytherin would be a bad Champion. His thoughts derail when the Gryffindors let out a loud cheer. Angelina Johnson turns back to her house table with a triumphant smile.
Members of the lions’ Quidditch team surround the girl as they chat with their new team captain. Potter grins widely and she says something that gets the Gryffindors around her to cackle.
“Angelina would be a good pick,” he finally settles on saying.
“She seems to be Potter’s pick as well,” Patrick observes. “I wonder if she is looking forward to not being in the limelight for once.”
Everyone shares a commiserating look. Elizabeth Potter, the Girl Who Lived, has been caught in the center of the student body’s attention since she started at Hogwarts. And somehow she always gets involved in whatever odd event that has hijacked the school year, from the mysterious corridor, the Chamber of Secrets, and then the dementors and Sirius Black. Cedric thinks of how she’s nice, a bit quiet, and nothing like the rumors that have circulated about her during the years before she started at Hogwarts. She honestly deserves a year where she gets to be on the sidelines for once and not caught up in something dangerous.
“She’s an odd duck, so polite and quiet,” Devon comments with a soft chuckle, almost echoing Cedric’s thoughts. “Nothing like those silly stories that came out about her that we grew up hearing about.”
Cedric watches out of the corner of his eye as Patrick’s face creases with displeasure at those words. There’s something about Potter that has had his best friend’s attention since she showed up as a tiny firstie. To this day, Cedric still does not know why Patrick avidly studies the girl at the start of each school year. All he knows is that Patrick gets a concerned look on his face and then he disappears for a bit before he returns from wherever he holes up. They all learned to let it go when Patrick got annoyed with them when they tried to tail him a couple years back.
“Well, I wonder how the professors will handle classes with all of us being distracted,” Cedric says as he looks to the head table. Snape looks like his usual sour self, and he is thankful they do not have a class with the man today.
“Classes are going to feel so slow today if they want us to actually pay attention,” Devon groans as they get ready to leave for their first class.
He wants to agree, but his nerves have started to settle in. Cedric can’t help think his day is going to pass in a blur.
***
Lunch time has Cedric filled with tension so bad that he feels nauseous and he doesn’t want to sit in the Great Hall as everyone talks about the Champion selections. So he leaves his friends, telling them he’ll eat something in the kitchens, and he has a quiet time reading a textbook while eating some sliced apples. It is honestly a nice break to have after a day where, so far, class has been half-heartedly held by his professors.
By the time he leaves and goes back upstairs he’s feeling better. The cup of peppermint tea one of the house elves gave him also helped.
It might be because his nerves have calmed down, but Cedric isn’t paying attention to his surroundings as he heads to his afternoon class. The quiet is just so nice. There’s no one elbowing him or asking him about what he will do once he’s picked as Hogwarts’ Champion.
So the shorter body, rounding the same corner as him, slams into him out of nowhere. Cedric barely grabs the student by their shoulders before they both toppled over as they both start apologizing. Then he pauses when he sees Potter trying to fix her glasses with one hand while she rubs at her forehead with the other. She hasn’t realized who she ran into yet, and he feels a little amused by her. It reminds him of this summer when he caught her as she fell due to the Portkey, apologizing and thanking him in one breath for catching her. She’d probably apologize to a wall if she ran into one.
She blinks up at him wide eyed, finally realizing who she bumped into, and she squeaks out, “Oh, shite, sorry Diggory.”
“Potter it’s okay, no harm no foul, yeah?” He tells her after he chuckles. “I wasn’t paying attention too.”
The sigh she lets out is heavy and one he actually sympathizes with because this has been the fastest, longest day he has ever suffered through. It reminds him of the day before the Quidditch World Cup and the anticipation of waiting had been similar.
“Right, well, good to see you,” Potter says a bit awkwardly. Her hands clench and unclench around the strap of her book bag. “Um, you trying out for the whole tournament, thing?”
“Yeah, I tossed my name in last night with some friends and some Slytherins.” Cedric watches her a bit curiously because everyone knows Gryffindors and Slytherins loathe each other. But Potter merely nods as she stares up at him. “If I get picked will you cheer for me? Even though I’m the only one who has beaten you to the Snitch, per my dad’s poor bragging?”
“I’ll cheer for you, and honestly, if the dementors hadn’t shown up it would have been close. You probably would have beaten me based on arm reach alone, so take the win even if comes from unfortunate circumstances,” Potter replies with a wry smile. “Next year, though, I’ll get the Snitch before you.”
The guilt in him eases a bit. Cedric still smarts over what his dad did this summer. No matter how many times he told his dad the dementors interfered with the match, his dad had brushed him off stating ‘but you didn’t collapse, Ced.’ But Cedric remembers Professor Lupin’s lectures. The brilliant professor had covered dementors as a lesson, his first lesson actually, to stress the dangers of them as they were now positioned around the school grounds. He knows that Potter collapsed from reliving her worst memories, which is a terrifying thought to have really because she’s just a teenager. What kind of memory was so bad that you passed out from it? It makes him feel a little chilled at the thought.
“I look forward to the rematch, then,” he tells her, as the warning bell rings in the distance. Cedric feels a bit impulsive, it might because of his nerves for tonight, but he ruffles her hair a bit affectionately. “Well, catch you later, Potter!”
He trots off to class feeling lighter. As he rounds the next corner he glances back and he sees Potter standing there looking a little dazed, staring after him, and then she gives him an awkward wave, a half wave that makes her cringe within seconds of doing it, before she disappears around her corner. Cedric can’t help the smile he gets. He has her approval if he gets the Champion pick and he feels like he can take on the world.
***
That feeling doesn’t last as Cedric tries to eat dinner. The most he can stomach are bread rolls and some fruit. He spends the rest of the time sipping on water. When dinner winds down the anticipation builds amongst to the students that Cedric swears he can feel the energy pressing in on him. The Great Hall descends into excited whispers as everyone turns to look at the Goblet of Fire. Dumbledore steps forward as he smiles out at them all. Cedric’s heart begins to thunder in him and his hands grip his pants. This reminds him of his first Quidditch match with how he had been a ball of anxiety and excitement.
The Goblet sparkles under the candlelight. Dumbledore’s speech goes in one ear and out the other for Cedric. He just wants to know if he made the cut or not. Brilliant gold and scarlet flames leap up and everyone goes quiet as the first piece of paper flies out.
Beauxbaton’s Champion is announced to delighted applause. He claps politely as Fleur Delacour gracefully stands from her spot at Ravenclaw’s table. She curtsies at them all before stepping into the antechamber. Then there is a small pause before a new slip of paper leaps out of the Goblet and into Dumbledore’s waiting hand. Viktor Krum gets up from his spot after his name is called for Durmstrang, and from where Cedric sits he can’t tell if the Quidditch star is excited or not to have been selected. The applause for him had been thunderous to the point Cedric’s ears ring a bit like they had at the World Cup once everyone goes silent again.
All of the Hogwarts students are leaning forward now as they wait for the flames to light up for the final time.
The anticipation bubbles in Cedric.
His friends keep nudging him and sending him winks and smiles. It would be nice for Hufflepuff to shine, but he’ll still cheer for whoever gets the pick.
The Goblet of Fire flares with a crackle of fire and it feels like everyone is captivated by the lone slip of paper. It flutters and almost sparkles under the candlelight. The paper is too far away for him to see if it is his name or handwriting. He swallows dryly and he shakes with adrenaline. This moment feels like when he dives for the Snitch where time seems to slow down for him and everything comes into a sharp focus.
Cedric watches as Dumbledore plucks the paper out of the air. The headmaster smiles gently and then announces, “And for Hogwarts, Cedric Diggory!”
The Hufflepuff table explodes with applause and cheers. His friends are thumping him on the back, ruffling his hair, and shouting at him as he gets up from his seat. Cedric feels like his face might split open from how widely he is grinning. He’s so giddy he’s lightheaded. But that might be from adrenaline and the rush of relief he’s feeling. At least he manages to get down to the end of his house table without tripping over his own feet.
He hesitates at the entrance to the antechamber and then he turns to look back at the other students. Everyone looks happy for him. Cassius sends him a nod and Angelina toasts him with her cup. Cedric’s eyes find Potter who is clapping and cheering. His grin grows even wider as he gives his friends and classmates a wave.
Cedric pushes open the door and he steps into the side chamber. When it closes behind him all he can hear is the thundering of his heart.
***
The door opens a few minutes later. Cedric looks up expecting to see Dumbledore. But that isn’t who enters the room.
His stomach drops when he sees Potter walking in. Her face is pale and she looks like she wants to be sick based on the way her hands press against her mouth. He thinks about what he thought just this morning at breakfast, how Potter seems to be dragged into the bizarre events of each school year, and he realizes her name somehow came out of the Goblet of Fire.
“Do they need us to go back outside?” Delacour asks, breaking the silence.
Potter opens her mouth, then shuts it tightly, and she violently shakes her head. Her hands resume their position of pushing against her mouth. Fear rattles around in him. She might actually be sick.
“Potter, what happened?” Cedric asks gently as he approaches her. “Do you need a bin to be sick in?”
Her eyes widen, looking a little glassy with unshed tears, but she shakes her head. She’s shaking, full body shakes, and he doesn’t know what to do or say to comfort her. Slowly she pries her hands away from her mouth. Potter takes a few steadying breaths in. Her eyes shut tightly making her eyelashes flutter.
“I’m, I’m so sorry Cedric. I don’t know how it happened, but my name came out,” she whispers into the quiet. She swallows tightly and she looks up at him as a few tears leak out. “I didn’t do it.”
He pulls her into his side, because he wants to give her some comfort and he’s also worried she’s going to collapse. “Okay, we’ll wait for the adults and figure this out.”
She’s trembling against him and somehow stiff as a board, as if she can’t bring herself to lean on him. Then the door bangs open as the adults storm in. Potter flinches. Her shaking gets worse. Cedric holds her closer as if to shield her from the incoming ire.
From there everything passes in a blur of noise. Cedric knows he witnessed and heard everything as the adults argued. Moody’s ominous theory had made him feel a bit ill. Delacour and Krum looked upset and he’s not sure if it’s because Hogwarts has a second Champion or not. But Potter looked like she had disassociated the entire time after she had protested she hadn’t entered herself and that she hadn’t asked anyone to enter her name for her. She had looked defeated as if she had accepted the fact that no one believed her.
Finally the meeting is called to an end after the adults seem to realize they are arguing in circles. Cedric doesn’t let go of Potter. Even if he did, she at some point began to hold onto him as if he is her only lifeline in this storm that swirls around her. It feels like he might be the only one on her side with the mess that is unfurling around them. Her shaking has lessened at least. He just wants to know why it feels like nothing will be resolved and why Potter is trapped in another dangerous situation due to the negligence of the adults.
He watches as everyone disperses with an odd feeling that he is forgetting something important. Delacour and her headmistress leave having a hurried conversation in French. Krum and his headmaster leave in a tense silence. Dumbledore sweeps off with Snape on his tail and Moody clunks after them.
“Diggory,” Potter says weakly once it is just the two of them. “I’m so sorry. You and Hufflepuff deserve to be front and center, and I ruined that for you. But I swear I didn’t enter myself.”
Cedric swallows as he turns to look at her fully, which is a bit hard with her death grip on the back of his robes. Merlin she looks so miserable and he feels bad for once thinking she actually entered herself in this tournament. Then he pauses wondering where the thought came from. There’s a bit of pressure against his forehead, like the start of a headache, and he shakes himself. He needs to focus on her in the here and now.
“Potter, it’s okay. I know you didn’t enter yourself,” he tells her gently and as sincerely as he can. He hopes she can hear the sincerity in his voice, because he knows without a shred of doubt she is innocent.
The tears she has been holding back seem to spill free at his words. He doesn’t have a handkerchief, but he has a wand and he transfigures one for her by using his tie. Potter dabs at her cheeks with it after a shaky thanks, but her eyes stay trained on him as if she can’t believe he believes in her innocence.
As he watches her, keeping both of his hands on her shoulders to keep her steady, Cedric is struck with the thought of her second year when everyone believed her to be the Heir of Slytherin. She had looked miserable then too, because not a lot of people believed her to be innocent just because she can talk to snakes. How did any of them think a tiny little twelve year old could do evil things? How could anyone think a fourteen year old would do the impossible and get around the enchantments Dumbledore put up? He suspects, with sinking dread, not many people will believe her this time as well.
“I’ll try to tell the badgers you are innocent, but people might be a bit hotheaded for a while on this.” Cedric tries to smile, but he’s thinking of how incensed everyone is going to be so it feels half-hearted at best.
“Thank you, just you believing in me is enough really,” she whispers. Her voice shakes and cracks, which makes his heart ache. She wipes away a few of her tears, pushing up her glasses a bit. “Merlin, I don’t want to go up to the Gryffindor tower. Everyone is going to be so insufferable and I bet they won’t believe I’m innocent.”
“Have you thought of going to talk to McGonagall? I thought it was a bit odd she hadn’t been included in the room when Snape of all people had been here.” He frowns a bit. Snape had been there, but not McGonagall. Why had the woman not been included? But Snape who hates Potter, which even Cedric knows about it, had either invited himself or Dumbledore brought him for reasons Cedric cannot fathom. “Especially if Moody is right and there are far more malicious intentions from whoever entered you, then McGonagall might be the best choice for you. Or Flitwick as he does have ties to the goblins who made the Goblet of Fire. They might have answers on how four names came out.”
Potter looks up at him with wide eyes and her mouth drops open in a little. Cedric tries not to shift uncomfortably from her stare as if she has never seen him before. There’s also the guilt eating him up for even thinking she’d willingly enter herself in the tournament. With how famous Potter is, Cedric finds it odd that she looks at him like him believing her and offering advice to be groundbreaking.
“That’s a good idea, actually,” she says slowly. A fresh wave of tears build up in her eyes that she scrubs away after taking off her glasses. “I’m so sorry, Diggory. I really am. It was supposed to be your night and I ruined it.”
“Did you want to ruin it?” He asks her gently. He watches as she shakes her head, her hands are pressed against her eyes as if to hold in her tears. “Then you have nothing to apologize for, Potter.”
Her jaw clenches and her lips press into a thin, white line, but a muffled noise escapes her—a broken sound of grief that she seems to be holding back. Cedric feels his heart break at the realization that she really didn’t expect him to believe her, or even give her advice, or to be kind to her. His throat feels tight with emotions and questions he wants to ask, questions that make him wonder about Patrick and his interest in Potter at the start of each school year. There is a gut instinct, somewhere deep within him, that makes his unease grow. But she has him now. He will be her defender if everything goes wrong. He will get her through this tournament safe and whole.
“Go find your head of house, Potter, okay?” Cedric gives her shoulders a squeeze and she finally removes her hands from her face to put her glasses back on, but they’re a little crooked. Gently he fixes them. He feels a bit comforted to see a determined look about her, one he has only seen when she’s on the hunt for the Snitch. “And if you need help, I can go with you to see Flitwick in the morning if your talk with McGonagall doesn’t pan out.”
She nods. When she glances at him her eyes are dry, but the edges are red and angry looking. “Thanks, Diggory, really,” she whispers hoarsely, and then she walks off with a grim determination in her posture as if she is going off to war.
She just might, he thinks. Potter is in for another rough year. If no one believes her again, then she will need all of the help she can get. This time, though, he won’t stand idly by as she is tormented. Cedric is going to make sure she gets out of this in one piece and with at least one friend, him, making sure she doesn’t feel like it is her against the world. He just hopes his fellow badgers will be reasonable and hear him out.
That might be a pipe dream, sadly.
***
When Cedric lets himself into the common room it is to a cacophony of noise. He grimaces before firing off a small spell to get everyone’s attention and to get them to shut up. Everyone swivels to look at him as if they are gauging his expressions to decide what he is feeling, and thus how they should feel. The silence is deafening for a brief moment. This night will be a long one. But the sooner he can tell his fellow housemates his stance on Potter the better. It might not do much to help her, but he wants to make it clear he is on her side and he believes in her.
“Potter didn’t enter herself,” Cedric announces to his common room. There’s a scoff from someone in the crowd. It’s small but it ignites something in him as he feels his annoyance flare. “She didn’t, okay? Merlin she was crying because no one believed her in the antechamber. And then afterwards she kept apologizing for stealing the spotlight from me.”
“Maybe she didn’t think her getting around the enchantments would actually work,” one of the seventh years mutters.
His anger explodes in him and his words become heated as he fires back, “Might I remind everyone who was here two years ago that everyone seemed dead set in believing her to be the Heir of Slytherin and she was mercilessly bullied for it. And despite all the cruelty hurled at Potter, she ended up saving the school and Ginny Weasley from whatever was causing the petrifications. People from Hufflepuff were horrible to her after Finch-Fletchley was petrified, and did anyone apologize to her afterwards? Did we all just collectively forget Potter’s own mother had been a muggleborn? Are we going to do a repeat where we all believe what we assume to be the truth, than believe the girl who happens to be famous for ending the war and surviving the night her parents were murdered?”
He’s shouting by the end of it. But he is so angry at his housemates and himself. How could any of them think Potter would so something like this, when she regularly seems to shy away from attention?
His outburst gets a reaction out of most of the badgers who blanche at his words. Cedric notices with displeasure that the fourth years squirm with guilt and he entertains a dark thought. Did they ever apologize to their year mate? Sure they had been twelve, and all teenagers are dumb, but they had been the worst with picking on Potter due to all of them being in the same year. Did they seriously act like nothing bad had happened the following year to Potter? No wonder she seemed so defeated and upset if she knows the history of how she will be treated is going to repeat itself.
“Those of us who left her alone when we had been fourth years didn’t have much weight to stop the bullying then, but we do now,” Patrick says darkly as he comes to stand next to Cedric. “As I’m taking over Ced’s prefect duties while he’s a Champion. I will enforce consequences to those who decide bullying is acceptable. Anyone, and I stress anyone, from this house who goes after Potter will face detention for a month mucking out the greenhouses. I will see Hogsmeade privileges revoked if that doesn’t work on you. Do not tempt me.”
Some of the seventh years begin to puff up as if to angrily snark back at the sixth years, but they stop at Patrick’s glare. Cedric wonders if the greenhouses will be enough of a threat if Sprout once more does nothing about the bullying that is bound to happen.
“Maybe Sprout will go lenient, so until we do know where she stands on this issue, I say you assign their detentions to McGonagall.” Cedric feels a bit of vindictive glee when many pale at the idea. McGonagall had sent many a student to detention for bullying Potter during her second year and most who left those detentions came back sullen and cowed, ignoring Potter to avoid another attention with the Transfiguration Professor. “I imagine the head of Gryffindor will have a lot to say about students bullying a victim, because that is what Potter is in this situation. She didn’t ask to be entered nor did she enter herself.”
“Also, do remember the incident at the end of the Quidditch World Cup,” Maggie pipes up, over the murmuring that sparked up after Cedric spoke, with a concerned frown. “Death Eaters reared their ugly heads and attacked the muggles who own one of the campgrounds, and then someone cast the Dark Mark.”
“Which means that there are still Death Eaters out and about, to no one’s surprise, who might want to see Potter harmed or killed in a deadly tournament meant only for those of age as revenge for killing You-Know-Who,” Cassie adds on, she folds her arms as she glares out at the crowd. “Our father works as one of the senior Aurors under Madam Bones, and we heard them all worrying if this summer event was tied to Sirius Black. The man who betrayed Potter’s family is still at large. If he could sneak into our school last year under Dumbledore’s nose and get passed dementors, then what’s to say he couldn’t do it again, get around Dumbledore’s protections, and add her name into the Goblet?”
A thoughtful silence descends upon the Hufflepuffs as they all seem to realize Potter might actually be a victim. But Cedric still sees quite a few faces looking upset. The first and second years will probably be the only students who don’t care as much about the fourth year lion’s involvement. Those who have seen Dumbledore yank the House Cup away from the Slytherins twice, even if the snakes didn’t earn nor deserve it, to give it to the Gryffindors because of Potter are still jaded. There is a definite bias the headmaster has towards the famous teenager. Cedric gets it, however, it is unfair to dislike Potter for something she never asked for, and instead the upset should be directed at Dumbledore.
“Goodness, what are you lot still doing up?” Sprout demands as she bustles into the common room. “I thought the house elves were having me on when they said you were all still awake and arguing.”
“We were lecturing our fellow badgers on leaving Potter alone, professor,” Cedric tells her. And he stares her down to gauge her reaction. “She is innocent, a victim, really. I believe her that she did not wish to be entered into the tournament at all, and someone got her name to come out to bring harm or death to her, possibly both.”
“I see,” Sprout says slowly with a frown. Then she straightens herself as she stands by Cedric. “Professor Flitwick and I were talking about this, and we agreed we were all far too lenient on you lot during the Chamber of Secrets catastrophe. So the talk I was planning to have in the morning will happen now. Miss Potter is to be left alone. Professor McGonagall is working with her to see if they can have her entry withdrawn. They’re also going to call up Madam Bones to open an investigation as this qualifies for attempted line theft and murder, as Miss Potter is the last of her house.”
“So mucking out the greenhouses as punishment is still on the table,” Patric announces cheerfully, which causes many to go pale at the idea.
“Oh definitely, and I expect to hear if any of you misbehave from the prefects. Now off to bed you lot. Mister Diggory, I need you for a moment,” Sprout tells them. She takes her wand out to cast some spells, and the Hufflepuffs all find themselves walking to their dorm rooms.
He waves to his friends who leave willingly. Cassie and Maggie shoot him looks as if trying to tell him to update them later, and depending on what Sprout talks about with him he might. But if it’s about Potter’s privacy, then he will guard whatever secrets or sensitive information he is told.
Once it is just the two of them, she sighs before smiling at him. “I heard you advised Miss Potter to go talk to Minerva, and I need to thank you for that Mister Diggory. When Miss Potter found us, Filius and I had been with Minerva who was spitting mad and doing her best to convince us of her lion’s innocence. I must admit, I had let myself be colored to think Miss Potter as guilty. But seeing that child near tears as she apologized to me for stealing Hufflepuff’s time to shine, well, I felt right awful for letting myself get carried away by my own emotions.”
“I’m glad, then, that my suggestion helped her,” Cedric whispers. He closes his eyes to shut out the images of a Potter mostly on her own, looking angry and hurt that barely anyone was on her side.
“I just don’t understand how her name came out and who tossed it in there. I also don’t understand what Albus is doing, as I’m fairly certain he’s her guardian,” Sprout mutters, almost to herself. She sighs again. “We will get through this, Mister Diggory, and I am sorry to ask this of you, but could you help tutor Miss Potter on the off chance she cannot withdraw? She’ll need help to keep herself safe as the spells she has learned so far won’t be of much use to her in a tournament meant for those with at least six years of magical education under their belts.”
“Of course, professor, and it will help me prepare as well,” he answers fiercely. “If she has to go through with the tournament, I’ll make sure she’s not alone.”
“You are a consummate Hufflepuff. Helga would be proud to have you as a badger,” Sprout tells him warmly. Her words fill him pride and he smiles at her. “Off to bed now, you’ll need your rest.”
Cedric bids his head of house good night and he walks to his dorm. As much as he wants to talk to his friends about this, he wants to just rest for a moment. The awful dream he had this morning, before he woke up, seems like it had been an ominous sign and he wonders if he had remembered it better if he would have been better prepared for this night.