When Shadows Move

A/N - From now on, let's just pretend that they're 16/17? I feel awkward writing flirting scenes for 13/14 years old.

Olivia Middleton's POV

We're all in the Great Hall, doing our homework. I'm sitting next to Cedric, with the others around us. Over the past few days, Cedric and I have gotten pretty close. He's told me about his past, and I've told him about mine. Everything.

With him, everything feels calm. I don't have to pretend to be this strong girl, hiding behind a mask of misery. With him, I can just be... me. He's also ridiculously funny, always cracking jokes that leave me holding my stomach, laughing harder than I should.

Right now, he's got me laughing again. He says, "Okay, so Snape and McGonagall lose Dumbledore in the crowd. What do they do?" He mimics Snape, voice all low and serious. "We lost Dumbledore in the crowd, Professor McGonagall."

Then, he switches to McGonagall, voice sharp and disapproving. "Slytherin wins the house cup."

And then he does this dramatic pause, before shouting in an exaggerated Dumbledore voice, "500 points to Gryffindor!"

"Found him!" McGonagall says.

I'm laughing so hard, my eyes are teary. It's not just what he said, it's how he mimicked Snape, McGonagall, and Dumbledore so perfectly. The whole Great Hall is staring at me now—not because I'm laughing so loudly, but because Cedric's sitting so close to me. I can feel the eyes of the girls on me, envying me for the attention, probably thinking Cedric's a little too close. And, as he'd mentioned before, the boys probably wish they were the ones sitting this close to me.

But I can't ignore the fact that Draco's looking at us too, his gaze sharp enough to kill. If looks could do any harm, Cedric would probably be six feet under by now.

"Listen to that idiot!" Ron says, glancing over at Draco. I follow his gaze and spot Draco. Pansy's all over him, touching his hurt arm, and he doesn't push her away. For the first time, I don't feel that sting of jealousy—the kind I felt back on the train. It's like a weight has lifted off my chest. I don't feel angry or upset. I feel... at peace.

"He's really laying it on thick," Ron adds, shaking his head. "At least Hagrid didn't get fired, and Buckbeak is still alive," Harry says, trying to lighten the mood. "But I heard his father's furious," Hermione chimes in. "He won't stop until something happens."

My fists ball at my sides, my jaw tightens, and through gritted teeth, I mutter, "If something happens to Buckbeak or Hagrid, I'm going to break every bone in his body."

"Easy, girl. Easy," Cedric says, his hand resting lightly on my thigh. The touch calms me, and I let out a sigh. "You already broke his nose once. I think he gets the point."

Before I can respond, Seamus rushes over, out of breath. "Sirius Black's been sighted in Dufftown," he says, eyes wide with worry. "It's not far from Hogwarts." My stomach drops. After what Harry told me about his conversation with Mr. Weasley, I can't help but worry. If Black decides to come to Hogwarts... what's going to happen?

The next day, our first class is Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Lupin. As I exit the common room, I see Cedric waiting for me. "Hey Ced," I say, smiling as I walk over to him. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, just thought I'd walk you to DADA," he replies, grinning. I raise an eyebrow. "Cedric Diggory, are you stalking me?" He chuckles. "No, but Lupin said he needed help with his class today, and I knew you'd be going, so I figured I'd walk with you."

"That's very sweet of you. Thank you," I say, slipping my arm through his as we walk to class together.

When we reach the classroom, Cedric stands beside Professor Lupin, while I take my seat near Draco and his group of idiots. Lupin starts the lesson, introducing us to the concept of Boggarts and instructing us to open our books to page 57. "Can anyone tell me what Boggarts look like?" he asks.

As always, Hermione's hand shoots up. "No one knows, Sir. They're shape-shifters. They take the shape of whatever a person fears most, which is what makes them so terrifying."

"Very well, Miss Granger. A simple charm can repel a Boggart. Let's practice. Without wands—Riddikulus!" Lupin instructs, and the class repeats the incantation together. "This class is ridiculous," I hear Draco mutter under his breath.

I can't help but giggle. As arrogant as Draco can be, I've got to admit, he's got a decent sense of humor. When he notices, he gives me a wink, and I quickly look away, my cheeks warming.

After Lupin demonstrates with Neville, we're instructed to form a line and face our own Boggarts. I've never really thought about what my deepest fear is—at least, not until now.

The line moves forward, and I watch Ron's Boggart take the form of a giant spider. When he casts the charm, the spider's legs start wearing skates, slipping around the floor as it tries to keep its balance. The class bursts into laughter, and I'm already feeling a little more at ease.

It's my turn next. The spider morphs into a mirror, and for a split second, I wonder why that's my fear. A mirror? Why would I be afraid of that? But as I stare at the reflection, it's not just my face I see. It's me, standing over a dead body—Harry's face, then Hermione's, Fred's and George's, Ron's. Everyone close to me, one by one, lifeless on the floor, and I'm standing there, proud, drawing my wand on them. Why am I proud? What the hell is wrong with me?

My heart races, and my hands tremble as I stare at the mirror. I feel sick, my vision blurring, my eyes welling with tears. The heat of embarrassment floods my cheeks. I can't cast the spell. I can't move.

"Miss Middleton! Cast the spell now!" Lupin urges from behind me.

But I can't. I'm frozen. My mind is spiraling, and I don't know how to stop it.

Then, I feel a hand on my shoulder. It's Cedric. He must've noticed my struggle because before I can do anything, he casts the spell for me, making the Boggart disappear.

I feel a rush of relief, but my body goes limp. Cedric catches me before I hit the ground, his arms steadying me as I slip into unconsciousness.

I'm unconscious the whole day. I miss the first trip to Hogsmeade, too. Cedric visits me in his free time, bringing food along. He's so sweet. It's dinner when we're sitting together, talking.

"Thank you, Ced," I begin, my voice shaky. "You know, for that. I don't know why I didn't draw my wand. I just—I couldn't get the words out. It's like I wanted to say them, but they just wouldn't come." My voice cracks, and a tear slips down my cheek.

Cedric gets up, setting his plate aside, and sits next to me on the bed. His hands cup my cheeks gently as he looks at me with concern. "Hey, hey, hey. Look, don't cry. It happens, okay? Everything's fine now. I'm here, nothing's going to happen to you while I'm here." He wipes the stray tear off my cheek and presses a soft kiss to my forehead.

The others come in to visit, too, but the next day, Madam Pomfrey tells me I'm not free to go yet. The Fat Lady's missing, but she's found quickly—hiding in another painting. She tells Dumbledore that Sirius Black has entered Hogwarts and is hiding somewhere within the castle.

The whole castle is secured, the gates locked, and the Great Hall is emptied of its usual bustle, now filled with sleeping bags for each student. I can't shake the feeling that something's off, so after the students settle in, I decide to talk to Professor Lupin. I cover my bed with blankets to make it look like I'm still sleeping.

I wait until it's quiet. Then, as silently as I can, I slip out of the wing, barefoot, and head toward Professor Lupin's classroom. I'm walking down the corridor when I hear it—the unmistakable sound of footsteps, but not human. Animal. A low growl follows, and I freeze. I press myself against the wall and peek around the corner.

A dog.

Why is there a dog in the castle? It's not anyone's pet—we're not allowed to bring animals. My breath catches as the thought hits me—Sirius Black is an Animagus, and he's a dog.

I gasp, and the dog's head snaps toward me. My heart races, and without thinking, I bolt. I need to get back to the Hospital Wing, away from the Hall, so that Black will follow me instead of Harry and the others. I run, but in my panic, I trip, twisting my ankle as I fall to the ground.

The dog—Black—picks up his pace, careful, measured steps toward me. But then, suddenly, he stops and turns, running in the opposite direction. I look behind me, heart still pounding, and see a shadow approaching. My breath catches. It's Draco. Before I can scramble to my feet and run back to the wing, he speaks.

"Middleton, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in bed in the Hospital Wing?" He offers his hand, and I take it, gratefully. I don't even think about his injury as I hug him tightly. "Thank you, Draco," I mumble against his chest, my voice trembling.

He pulls away from the hug but keeps his hand on my waist. "Thank you for what, darling?" His voice is soft, a little teasing. "Just... thank you. Could you please take me back to the Hospital Wing? I think I twisted my ankle," I say, looking up at him with a small smile.

He nods, and we start walking toward the Hospital Wing, but after a few steps, I stumble again. "Alright, this isn't going to work. Jump on my back," he says, voice firm. "What? No, Draco. Your hand—" I protest, but he cuts me off.

"Just do what I say, and don't worry about my hand. I'm fine." He doesn't wait for me to argue further. I climb onto his back, wrapping my legs around his torso. He grips my ass with one hand to steady me, and I don't say anything. It's the only way we'll make it back to the Hospital Wing.