And the Crowd Went Quiet

Olivia Middleton's POV

A few months have passed, and Cedric and I are happier than ever. I've spent a few nights in his dorm—not like that, but just lying beside him, talking until we fall asleep. His friends have been incredibly sweet to me. Being the prefect's girlfriend means I'm always invited to the Hufflepuff parties, and I usually drag the others along with me. The more the merrier, right? And those parties—always amazing. Warm, loud, golden.

Now, it's the day before the Third Task. We're in Charms, and I'm sitting beside Rafael while Professor Flitwick drones on about the Bombarda charm. I should be listening. I know I should. But my mind keeps drifting to Cedric. And Harry. The final task is tomorrow, and something feels... off.

Rafael nudges me gently, and I blink out of my spiral. I glance at him, confused, and he subtly jerks his chin toward Flitwick. The professor is staring at me, brows raised, clearly expecting an answer.

Shit.

I slowly rise to my feet and clear my throat, stalling. "He asked what is Bombarda,'" Rafael whispers, barely audible. "Right—uh, Bombarda is the incantation for a charm that creates small explosions. It can blast open sealed doors or blow bars off windows," I answer quickly, praying I got it right.

Flitwick smiles. "Yes, very well, Miss Middleton. Do speak with me after class."

Great.

I sit back down, heart thudding. I did answer it correctly... so why does he want to talk to me? "So... dreaming about Cedric, are you?" Rafael teases under his breath. I snap my head toward him, flustered. "No!"

I say it way too fast. Which makes it obvious. But I wasn't just thinking about Cedric. I was worrying—about him, about Harry, about everything. "I'm just... nervous. The task is tomorrow. Ced and Harry, they're both..." I sigh. He rests a comforting hand on the small of my back. "They're brave. Really brave. They'll be alright. You'll see."

His words settle something in me, at least for a little while.

When the bell rings, I pack up my things and walk to Flitwick's desk. "You wanted to speak with me, Professor?"

"Ah, yes! The Third Task is tomorrow," he says, organizing his papers. "After your classes today, head to the music room and gather the choir. Practice is needed."

"Practice for what?" I ask cautiously. "Your first performance," he says, eyes twinkling. "Before we proceed to the maze, the school needs morale boost—and you, being the lead, will sing in the Great Hall."

I blink. "Right. Of course."

I walk to my next class still slightly dazed, but I pull the choir together after lunch, and we rehearse until dinner. Then, tired but satisfied, I head to the Great Hall and slip into a seat beside Harry at the Gryffindor table.

"Where've you been all afternoon?" he asks as I shovel a handful of chips onto my plate. "Busy," I say with a grin. "But I've got a surprise for you all before the task."

"What kind of surprise?" Ron asks, and I shoot him a look while chewing.

Seriously?

After I swallow, I say, "What do you think a surprise means, Ronald?" Then Cedric appears behind me, resting a hand on my shoulder. "Mind if I steal my girlfriend for the night?"

"All yours, Diggory!" Fred and George say in sync. I rise with a smile, and Cedric and I walk hand in hand out into the courtyard. We sit, and I catch him just... staring. "What?" I ask, tugging lightly on his cheek.

"Nothing. Just admiring the prettiest girl in Hogwarts—who, luckily, happens to be mine," he says with a cheeky grin. I giggle and kiss him quickly, but he cups my face, deepening it. His lips are warm, familiar. Comforting. The Great Hall's still full, so no one's out here. I don't mind the PDA.

He pulls back slightly, our foreheads still pressed together. "You're so beautiful. You make me... happier than I ever thought I could be." My cheeks burn, but I can't stop smiling.

"I think I'm in lo—"

"Ahem."

We both jerk upright. Hermione stands awkwardly near the bench. "Sorry to interrupt, but Liv... Professor Flitwick is looking for you." Cedric squeezes my hand. "Of course, gorgeous. Go be amazing." I grin. "Oh! There's a surprise for you tomorrow in the Great Hall. Before the task. It's not super personal, but I think you'll like it."

"See you before the task, Diggory!" I call as I walk off with Hermione. "He was gonna tell—" she starts. "Yes," I say before she finishes. "And were you...?" I sigh. "I don't know, Mione. It's been a few months. Maybe it's too soon."

She hums and nods. "Professor Flitwick's in the music room," she says gently before leaving me for the night.

I head to the music room and find the choir and Flitwick already waiting. He asks to hear our progress, and we sing. The music fills the room, effortless and smooth. When we finish, Flitwick claps his hands together. "Perfect!"

And for the first time all day, I let myself believe... maybe things will be okay tomorrow.

After the practice is over, I make my way to the common room. It's past curfew, so the place is quiet, dimly lit by the fire. Harry's sitting alone on one of the couches, his face half-shadowed by flickering light. I head over and sink into the seat next to him. He doesn't say anything at first—just lets out a heavy sigh.

"What is it, Harry?" I ask gently, resting a hand on his back. "You seem worried."

He keeps his eyes on the fire. "Nothing, really. Just... the dreams again. And Snape mentioned something about Polyjuice Potion earlier. Plus, the last task is tomorrow." I squeeze his shoulder. "Hey, everything's going to be okay. You weren't sorted into Gryffindor by accident. And the dreams—they're just dreams, Harry. Don't read too much into them."

He doesn't respond right away, so I lean in a little. "Want to know a secret? Ever since I told you about my nightmares, I've had this pain in my hand. Since the Quidditch Tournament. I don't know what it is, but I've learned not to overthink it. The more I ignore it, the more I can breathe."

I smile and hold out my hand to him. "So relax. Take a deep breath, clear your head, and go to bed." He stands, pulling me into a hug instead. "Thanks, Liv. I know they're just words of comfort, but from you... it means more. I don't know what I'd do without you."

I hug him back tightly. "You'll be just fine. Now sleep, Potter."

He laughs softly and heads to his dorm. I turn in too. Hermione and Ginny are already asleep when I walk in. I change into my nightgown and crawl into bed, exhaustion swallowing me fast.

The next morning, I wake late. No classes today—just the final task. It feels surreal. I dress quickly and head to the Great Hall earlier than everyone else to check the sound system. My stomach's a knot, so tight I can't even think about food. I skip breakfast. And then lunch. Just nerves and more nerves.

People are chattering, laughing, filling the Great Hall with anticipation. I can't take the noise anymore, so I slip out for air.

In the courtyard, I'm finally alone—until someone clears their throat.

I turn.

Draco.

He's smirking, a little awkwardly. "Middleton."

"Malfoy," I say, raising a brow. "You look good," he says, giving me a slow once-over. "Thanks," I reply, offering a polite smile. "You look good too."

And he does. He's in an all-black suit, sharp and elegant. My necklace glints at his throat, catching the sunlight, and his fingers—covered in silver rings—shine too. It's almost distracting.

"Did you want something?" I ask, a little thrown by his strange mood. "Erm—" he starts, but a voice cuts through. "Liv, let's go! It's time!" Tina calls from the gates. I glance between her and Draco. "I have to go. Maybe we can talk later?"

He nods, and I run back to the castle.

The Great Hall is packed. The four champions are seated at the front, just below the raised platform where we're performing. The teachers are seated among the students today. Everyone's buzzing with excitement.

I take my place in front of the choir. A single mic stands before me. My heart is pounding as I catch Cedric's eye—he's watching me, clearly confused. I give him a nervous smile.

The music begins.

I inhale slowly, grip the mic, and start to sing.

Say what you wanna say... and let the words fall out... 

The choir joins in behind me. I tilt slightly toward them, smiling through my nerves. My voice grows steadier with every note. When the final chord ends, the entire hall goes silent.

My heart stutters.

Did they hate it? Did I mess up? Was I pitchy? Too soft?

Then—clap.

Draco.

He's the first to start applauding. And suddenly the entire hall erupts in thunderous applause. Louder than anything I've ever heard inside Hogwarts. I let out a shaky breath, smiling as I step down from the stage. The cheering continues behind me like a wave.

My friends are already by the champions. Cedric pulls me into his arms and spins me in a circle. "I didn't know you could sing," he says, breathless. "You were exceptionally brilliant, gorgeous." He kisses my cheek, and I feel warmth bloom in my chest. Everyone else crowds around, showering me with congratulations and excitement.

And for the first time today... I feel brave.

The Great Hall empties quickly. Everyone heads down to the Quidditch pitch, buzzing with nerves and excitement. Cedric and I walk hand in hand, quiet the whole way. The silence is comforting, but I can feel the tension in his grip.

We reach the grounds and I stop, turning to him with a tight breath. "Cedric, please be careful. And Harry... he's younger than you, just—" He cuts me off with a deep, urgent kiss. I close my eyes, gripping the front of his robes.

"I'll be careful," he murmurs, pulling back just enough to look me in the eye. "And I'll take care of him. I promise."

I press another kiss to his cheek and hug him tightly, trying not to cry.

When we part, I head up into the stands where Hermione and Ron are already waiting. Draco and his usual lot are sitting just in front of us. Cedric's father is nearby too, beaming with pride. Cedric once told me all he ever wanted was to make his dad proud—especially after his mum died. I think he's finally done it.

We settle in as Dumbledore steps forward and announces the rules: the first to touch the cup will win. I find Cedric in the crowd. He looks up, spots me, and smiles. I wave. He blows me a kiss just before the cannon fires.

And then they're off.

"Ah, Olivia," Mr. Diggory says, turning toward me. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Mr. Diggory. And you?" He smiles warmly. "Happier now that you two are together. He told me the day you said yes to the Yule Ball. Couldn't stop grinning." I blink, surprised. "Oh... I'm glad to know you're okay with us, sir."

"Of course," he says. "You're perfect for him." He sits back, and I glance forward—only to find Draco staring at me, jaw tight. Jealousy rolls off him in waves.

Time passes slowly.

Then—red sparks shoot up into the sky. I gasp and shoot to my feet, panic tightening my chest. Hermione yanks me back down gently. "It's going to be okay," she says. "Don't worry." But I can't sit still. My nails dig into my palms. My leg bounces. And then—

"Ah!" I cry out, clutching my hand. Pain sears through my skin like fire. "Olivia?" Hermione says, alarmed. Draco turns, brows furrowed, and suddenly he's right beside me. "My... hand..." I gasp between sharp breaths. "Mione—it's burning."

Draco reaches out to take it but jerks back almost instantly. "She's burning up," he says, stunned. Hermione presses a hand to my forehead, then pulls away quickly. "He's right. You're boiling. We need to get you to Madam Pomfrey."

"I'll take her," Draco says quickly, placing a hand on my back. He doesn't even flinch from the heat. "No," I insist, gripping my wrist tightly. "It's just my hand. I don't feel feverish." But the pain is worse than anything I've ever felt—like knives, hot and sharp, stabbing again and again under my skin.

Before Draco can argue, movement in the maze draws everyone's attention.

It's Krum. He strolls out, clapping.

My stomach sinks. Why is he clapping?

"The tournament's over, isn't it?" he says, loud and smug. "I saw Diggory and Potter touch the cup."

Everyone cheers.

Cedric and Harry won. I release a shaky breath.

But then something doesn't feel right. If they won...

Where are they?

Dumbledore steps forward. "Let's wait for our champions," he announces.

I try to distract myself—talking to Hermione about exams, anything to pull me away from the fire still licking through my hand.

Then a scream shatters the air.

Fleur.

I whip around—my heart stopping.

Draco is already staring at me. His eyes are wide. Haunted.

Something's wrong.

I look down at the field just as Harry appears.

He's sobbing.

Collapsed over Cedric's still body.

He's crying. He's back, he wails.

No.

No, no, no.

I don't even think. I bolt down the steps. Mr. Diggory rushes past me, screaming. "That's my boy! That's my son!" Someone grabs me—Fred. "Liv, no, don't—"

"Let me go!" I cry, shoving against him. "He can't be—he can't be—" Fred hesitates... then lets me go. I fall to my knees beside Cedric.

He's cold.

His eyes are open.

"No..." I whisper, reaching out with shaking hands. "Ced, wake up..." I slap his cheek gently. "Wake up..."

But he doesn't.

He doesn't move.

I start to sob, crying his name again and again as everything fades. The crowd is dead silent. All they can hear is me... and Mr. Diggory, both of us crying out for the same boy.

No. I can bring people back—I can.

I press my forehead to his, close my eyes, and let a single tear fall. "Come back," I whisper. "Please..." But nothing happens. His eyes are still empty. Not glowing like they always are when he teases me. Or laughs. Or kisses me.

"Why isn't he waking up?" I demand, looking at Dumbledore. His face is grave. "Now that you're more susceptible to emotion, Olivia... you can only bring back those who want to come back."

Behind him, Moody is dragging Harry away.

I turn back to Cedric. "Please," I whisper. "Come back for us. For your dad. For me. I need you—"

I try again. And again.

Nothing.

I stumble to my feet, dizzy with grief, and run.

I don't even know where I'm going—I just know I have to get away from the body of the boy I love.