Of Champions and Secrets

Olivia Middleton's POV 

The day after the Yule Ball, it feels like the whole castle is glowing. Couples walk in hand-in-hand, grinning like the snow falling outside is made of sugar. Everyone seems to have come out of that night with something new—blushes, whispers, relationships. Everyone but me.

And Malfoy? He's back to his old shoes.

He doesn't waste a second before starting again—constant bickering, little jabs, the usual snide remarks about my friends. But it's me he targets the most. It always is. And honestly? As much as I want to snap back and give him what he wants—a full-on shouting match—I can't stop wondering why he picks on me more than anyone else. 

What is it about me that makes him try harder?

With a few hours free before my next class, I decide to sneak away to the frozen Black Lake for a little ice skating. I head back to my dorm to layer up—though, for some stupid reason, I still choose a skirt over jeans. It just... felt right. Aesthetically. I regret it the second the cold hits my legs.

Once I reach the lake, I flick my wand, transfiguring my boots into skates. I shrug off my robes, slip on my headphones, and press play. The music swells in my ears, and I move across the ice, twirling, spinning, dancing like I'm floating. One leg up, arms stretched—I feel free.

As the song fades, I slow to a stop, catching my breath. That's when I hear it.

Clapping.

I whirl around, startled. "Cedric! What are you doing here?"

He grins as I skate over. "Had a free class. Thought I'd stop by the lake... but didn't expect to see a professional ice dancer," he teases, reaching for my hand to steady me as I step off the ice.

"There's a lot you don't know about me, Ced," I say with a smirk, brushing some hair out of my face as we start walking back toward the castle. He walks backwards the whole way, facing me, never breaking eye contact. His attention makes my cheeks flush—not from the cold.

After the Yule Ball, Cedric and I have grown closer. He's sweet. Always walking me to class, offering to carry my books, laughing at all the right moments. But for all his charm, he still hasn't said anything. Not officially. Still, I've caught him staring—especially at my lips, a few seconds too long.

A few days later, we're sitting by the Black Lake after lunch, legs dangling over the edge. I pick up a smooth rock and skip it across the water. "You've figured out the clue, haven't you?" I ask, eyeing him. "Come on, Ced. Harry really needs help. And don't forget—he did help you with the dragons."

Cedric sighs, hesitating. "I know, but—" He pauses, then softens. "Alright. I'll push him in the right direction. Just for you." I grin and throw my arms around him. "Thank you, Ced! You're the best." He laughs, pulling me in tighter.

If he doesn't confess by the next task... I'm going to tell him how I feel.

Later, as we cross the bridge heading back to the castle, I spot Harry and Hermione deep in conversation. Cedric calls out, "Potter!" Harry turns, eyes flashing, and walks away without a word. Cedric and I pick up the pace, half-running to catch up.

"How... how are you?" Cedric asks, a little awkwardly. "Spectacular," Harry shoots back, sharp and sarcastic. "Play nice, Harry," I chide gently, glancing at Hermione. She looks uneasy, which worries me. "I'll see you at the library after dinner?" I ask Cedric, and he nods. I lean up, kiss his cheek, and head toward Hermione.

"What's wrong, Mione?" I ask, looping my arm through hers as we walk. She sighs. "Just... Harry. He hasn't figured out the clue yet. I'm worried."

"Don't be. I just asked Cedric to help him," I say, nudging her with a smile. "It's not cheating—he's not telling him the clue. Just giving him a nudge." Her shoulders drop a little with relief as we walk into the Great Hall. "And come on, it's Harry. He's smart. One push and he'll piece it together."

We sit down at our usual table, quills and books already waiting. She smiles gratefully, and we get to work. 

The day goes by faster than I expect. We're all in the library, and Harry's finally figured out the trick with the egg. Thank Merlin.

Thank you, Cedric.

Ron is half asleep at the edge of the table, and I've barely spoken to him since the Yule Ball. He basically called me a slut for dancing with different guys. Classy, right? Eye roll. I'm sitting beside Harry, who's dozing off with his cheek squished into his textbook, and I'm trying not to check the time again. Cedric's supposed to meet me to work on his Charms essay.

"Harry, tell me again," Hermione demands, suddenly alert. Harry groans and mutters, "Come seek us where our voices sound..." as he lightly bangs his chin on the book. "The Black Lake. Obviously," Hermione says with a huff, shaking Ron awake and pushing the egg toward him.

Before I can say anything, I hear footsteps and then Cedric's voice. "I hope I'm not disturbing anything. Ready, Liv?"

"Erm..." I glance at Hermione, then at Harry, a little unsure. "We'll be fine," Hermione says, smiling at me knowingly. I grab my things and nod. "Let's go."

We move to a quieter section of the library, and I stretch a bit before scanning the shelves. "Right, now, Charms, is it?" I ask, grabbing Jarleth Hobart's Book of Advanced Spells and plopping it onto the table.

Cedric chuckles as he sits. "Wow, advanced spells. You really do know everything, don't you?"

"Only when I have to bail out Triwizard champions," I smirk, handing him a spare quill. "Okay, write this down—'The Bird-Conjuring Charm, also known as Avis, is a spell that conjures a flock of birds.'"

He scribbles it dutifully onto his parchment, and for the next hour we go back and forth—writing, joking, occasionally making fun of Ron's snoring.

When we finally finish, Cedric leans back with a sigh of relief. "Thank you so much, Liv. You have no idea how stressed I was about that essay. With the next task and the Ball and everything... I couldn't focus."

He reaches out and cups my cheek gently.

"It's quite alright, Ced. I'm happy to help," I say, smiling. His eyes are soft on me, and I think—maybe this is it. Maybe he's going to say something. But then his gaze shifts over my shoulder, and his expression darkens.

I turn to look.

Draco.

He's standing between the shelves, staring at us. What the hell is he doing in the library? The question answers itself when Pansy Parkinson steps out from behind him, adjusting her robes and giggling.

I sigh and roll my eyes. Of course.

"Just ignore him," I mutter, shutting the book with more force than necessary. "He's been on my nerves a lot lately."

"Why don't you stand up to him?" Cedric asks, packing up his things. "Because that's what he wants—a reaction," I reply, standing too and slinging my bag over my shoulder. He hesitates, then says, "But... don't get upset. Why did you dance with him at the Ball?"

I pause, heart skipping. He noticed. He remembers. I meet his eyes, and I know this is the moment. If I'm going to tell him about the intruder—about what really happened—it has to be now. Especially if I'm planning to confess my feelings before the next task. But the fear creeps in. What if he looks at me differently? What if this ruins everything?

I stare at him too long, my face frozen, and he waves a hand in front of me. "Earth to Olivia," he teases, pulling me back. I sigh. "I owe—"

But I don't get to finish.

"Miss Middleton," a voice cuts in, cold and familiar. I turn to find Professor Snape standing behind a tall stack of books, arms folded, face unreadable. "Sorry to break up the..." His eyes flick to Cedric's hand on my waist. "...conversation."

"Yes, Professor?" I ask quickly, stepping back and placing the book on the shelf. "Professor Dumbledore would like to see you in his office. Follow me." I blink. My stomach twists. What now? Harry's dreams? Something about my parents? I must look worried because Cedric gently holds my face again, right in front of Snape.

"Hey. It's going to be okay. It's probably nothing," he says softly. Snape looks vaguely disgusted. "I am... going to leave. See you in Dumbledore's office, Miss Middleton." He turns and walks away. I glance once more at Cedric, who gives me a small, encouraging smile, and kisses my forehead.

I nod and go.

When I arrive at Dumbledore's office, Hermione, Ron, and some Beauxbatons girl are already there. Mr. Crouch stands near the desk, looking stern. "Now that all of you are here," Dumbledore says, rising to his feet, "we can begin."

He explains that we've each been chosen as someone the champions care about—someone they'd consider a treasure. And tomorrow, we'll be placed at the bottom of the Black Lake for the second task. The champions will have one hour to rescue us.

"If they fail to retrieve you, don't worry," Mr. Crouch adds. "You will not be harmed. Our helpers will retrieve you soon after." A wand is raised over Fleur's sister. Then McGonagall over Hermione. Mr. Crouch for Ron. And finally, Snape steps forward toward me.

I take a breath. His eyes narrow slightly, and then he murmurs the spell—

And everything goes black.

The last thing I remember is Snape—of all people—smiling ever so slightly at me. Then everything fades to black.

Now I feel... wet.

I blink open my eyes and water surrounds me. The Black Lake. I start to panic until I see a face—his face—grinning down at me. Cedric.

He found me.

I smile back through the haze of murky water as he wraps an arm around my waist and starts guiding me toward the surface, toward the makeshift platforms where the audience is gathered. "Ladies first," he says with a charming smirk, gesturing toward the ladder.

I climb up, soaking wet and shivering, and he follows close behind. Towels are immediately draped over us, but the wind cuts through the fabric like it's nothing. I'm absolutely freezing.

Cedric doesn't hesitate. He pulls off his own towel and wraps it around my shoulders. "Ced, you're cold too—" I start to protest, but someone hands him another towel and he just smiles.

Then, suddenly, he's closer.

His lips press softly against mine. No rush, no pressure—just warmth. His hands cradle my neck, thumbs brushing my cheeks, and my hands find his chest, clutching at the damp fabric of his shirt. Even in this freezing cold, I feel like I'm on fire.

Around us, people start "oohing" and making kissing noises, but I don't care. Let them watch. He finally kissed me. Maybe not a grand confession, but... it's something.

We part slowly, and flashes go off—Rita Skeeter's already scribbling furiously in her ugly little notepad. Cedric places a hand protectively around my shoulder. We look around just as Hermione climbs up out of the lake, but Harry is still nowhere in sight. My stomach clenches.

Where is he?

Ron surfaces next, dragging Fleur's little sister with him. Ron was Harry's treasure, still no Harry. "He'll be fine," Cedric whispers, kissing the side of my head. And he's right. Moments later, Harry bursts out of the water like some kind of hero, clutching his wand and gasping for air. I don't even think—I just run to him.

"Here, take mine!" I throw my towel around his shivering frame. He's got cuts along his arms. "For Merlin's sake, get this boy another towel!" I shout. Hermione rushes to his other side, wrapping her own towel around him. I'm rubbing his back when Fleur approaches us with her sister, her eyes fixed on Harry.

"You saved her. Even when she wasn't yours to save. Thank you," she says sweetly, then cups Harry's face and kisses his cheek. Harry blushes, still trying to process everything. "Are you alright? You must be freezing," Hermione asks, already searching for another towel.

"I'm fine," Harry mutters, still dazed. "Are you two okay?"

"You did amazing, Harry," I say with a smile, glancing over to where Cedric's talking to Dumbledore and Mr. Crouch. He looks... proud. Maybe too proud.

What are they talking about?

"I finished last, Liv," Harry sighs. "Second to last," Hermione corrects, kissing the top of his head. Dumbledore walks over as Hermione stays with Harry and Ron. I make my way back to Cedric. "What were you telling Dumbledore?" I ask.

He grins. "You'll see soon, gorgeous." His hand finds the small of my back, and I feel that familiar spark all over again.

"ATTENTION!" Dumbledore's voice booms across the stands.

"The winner is Mr. Diggory!" Cheers erupt from the crowd. I join the clapping as Cedric's friends slap him on the back in congratulations. "But," Dumbledore continues, "thanks to what Mr. Diggory shared with us, we've decided that Mr. Potter—who saved not one but two individuals—will be awarded second place."

I turn to Cedric, who's already grinning at me like an idiot.

Without a word, I grab his shirt, pull him to me, and kiss him again. "That was very nice of you, Ced," I murmur.

He smiles like he's on top of the world, and we head back toward the castle.

I spend the rest of the day with Cedric and his friends—who, I admit, are kind of amazing. While Hermione, Ron, and Harry are off with Hagrid, I stick with Cedric and his lot.

"You have no idea how much he talks about you," William says with a knowing smirk. "He does?" I ask, heart fluttering. "Yeah, never shuts up," Alessia adds, and I glance at Cedric, who's blushing like mad.

"Glad you're finally his girlfriend," William teases.

Wait, finally?

"Well... I haven't asked her. Not officially," Cedric mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. Alessia shoves him forward. "Then ask her, you idiot." Cedric turns to me, face flushed. "Erm... Liv, will you be my girlfriend?"

I can't help but smile. "Of course, Ced. I'd love to."

I lean in and kiss him again as the group starts up with the teasing noises and over-the-top claps.

We're laughing when suddenly, pain flares in my forearm. I wince.

"What is it?" Cedric asks, instantly worried. "My hand... it just hurts," I mutter. But it's not just pain—it's burning. Like the skin wants to peel right off. "I'm pretty tired. Do you mind if I head back?"

"Of course not," he says gently. "I'll walk you to your tower."

The pain in my arm worsens with every step. It's hot, sharp, wrong.

When we reach Gryffindor Tower, Cedric pulls me in again. One hand on my waist, the other brushing my face. He kisses me.

And this time, it's not soft.

It's heated and hungry and he's pressing against me, our lips moving in sync like we've done this a hundred times. He licks my bottom lip, asking for more, and I open slightly. His tongue explores gently but deeply, and I'm completely lost in him.

Until—

Ahem.

Hermione.

We break apart, gasping, cheeks redder than ever. Cedric mutters, "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that." I look down, biting my lip, too shy to say anything. He takes my hands and kisses the backs of them softly. "Good night, gorgeous."

"Good night, Ced," I say, barely hiding my grin.

Hermione follows me inside. I glance at her and ask, "Where's Harry?" Her expression drops. "Mr. Crouch is dead."

"What?" I stop walking, heart racing. She tells me everything.

After the silence settles, she gives me a sly look. "So... he finally confessed?" I nod. "Well, not exactly confessed. But the kisses? Kinda said it all. Also... he just asked me to be his girlfriend."

We step into the dorm.

"TELL US EVERYTHING!" Ginny screams the moment I sit on my bed.

Oh Merlin.

Let the interrogation begin.