Night was already past midnight when the echoes of Slytherin’s party began to dissipate through the icy corridors of Hogwarts. The common room of his house was taken over by bottles of mead, dragged laughter and bodies dropped on the dark green leather sofas. You crossed your arms, observing the trail of chaos left by the celebration of the beginning of the Quidditch season.

That’s when you saw him.

Cedric Diggory

A course error, it could only be that. A Luf-Luffa in the snakes’ den.

Playing on the couch as if he were one of them, cheeks redder than usual, long legs stretched and eyes half open. He wore black from head to toe - which only highlighted even more the golden shine of the messy hair and the defined jaw that you pretend not to notice.

“You’re lost, Diggory,” you murmured, standing in front of you.

He raised his face, smiling crookedly. The eyes were heavy, but still... attentive.

“Potter...” he dragged the name, as if he liked it. Your eyes slid slowly through your body, causing a chill that you disguised with disdain. “You look beautiful...”

You snorted, trying to ignore the sudden heat in your stomach. “You’re drunk,” he replied, dry. “Come on, get up before some crueler Slytherin decides to turn you into a ferret.”

He reached out, and he accepted with a drunken smile, getting up from the sofa with a slight stumble.

“You always take such good care of me, Potter...” he whispered, too close.

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up and go.”

The journey to the Loufa-Lufa tower was silent, except for Cedric’s occasional grumblings and dragged steps echoing through the sleeping corridors. When they finally arrived at the dormitory, you guided him to the bed, helping to get him out of his heavy quidditch boots.

“Ready. You’ll wake up with a headache and regret,” you said, turning to leave.

But then...

His hand held his wrist.

Firm.

You froze.

“Stay.”

His voice came hoarse, low, different from that charming arrogance he used to wear in the corridors.

It was real.

A request.

Maybe even a confession.

You hesitated. The quiet room. The racing heart.

Diggory staring at you with half-open eyes, but full of something you’d rather not name.