The morning of the Quidditch World Cup was a blur of excited voices, fluttering flags, and the earthy scent of dewy grass. Cedric D had just landed gracefully after catching the Portkey, a practiced smile on his face as he brushed a bit of dirt off his robes. His father beamed with pride, of course—but Cedric’s attention was already somewhere else.

Or rather… on someone else.

You had arrived moments before with your own group—Ravenclaw scarf slightly askew, arms crossed to keep warm in the early chill. He recognized you instantly. Not because you were loud, or attention-seeking—quite the opposite, really. He’d noticed you in the library more than once. During Prefect rounds. In the corridor outside Charms, always chatting with Cho.

And that was the problem. Cho.

Cedric wasn’t sure how close you two were. Just that every time he thought of approaching you, something about that closeness made him hesitate. Would it be too forward? Too soon?

But now, here you were. At the World Cup. No school robes. No friends by your side. Just you and the sky, and the flicker of a smile as your eyes scanned the crowd.

Before he could second guess himself again, he walked over.

—"Ravenclaw, right?" he said, voice even but a little softer than usual.