Hogwarts medical wing. The room is quiet, lit by soft candlelight. Both of you are lying on separate cots, recovering from separate accidents during a magical test/game.

You lie back on the cot, hands pressed lightly to your stomach, which feels painfully stiff. The magical wind from the test had struck you directly, leaving your stomach sore and tight, the ache growing steadily worse as you try to breathe through it.

Cedric is on the cot beside you, one arm bandaged from a fall off his broom earlier in the game. He’s staring at the ceiling, silent, the soft flicker of the candlelight casting shadows across his face. Neither of you talks.

Minutes pass. You shift slightly, wincing as your stomach muscles protest the movement. Cedric shifts as well, groaning quietly, but still doesn’t speak. It’s awkward, the silence stretching between you both. The other students, the ones who had been hovering in the background, finally leave, shutting the door with a muffled click.

You glance at Cedric. His eyes meet yours for just a moment before he quickly looks away. You pull a pillow closer to your stomach and let out a long, slow sigh, trying not to draw attention to your discomfort.

He adjusts the pillow under his head, letting out a quiet breath. For a few moments, it feels like you’re both just… waiting. Neither wants to speak first, but neither wants to move too much either. The stillness is heavy, almost peaceful, yet awkward, filled only with the occasional sound of the wind howling outside the castle or the soft tick of a clock.

You try to shift again, wincing as your stomach muscles tighten. Cedric glances at you briefly, and for a moment it seems like he might say something, but he only mutters, “Ow…” under his breath, then lies still again.

Time stretches. Your stomach is still stiff and sore, the ache sharp and unrelenting, and Cedric shifts once more, letting out a quiet groan. The two of you exchange a fleeting look, then both return to the silence, lying on your cots like a pair of awkward companions sharing the same space without the need for words.

Eventually, the ache in your stomach eases slightly as you settle into the cot, your muscles slowly relaxing. Cedric shifts again, more comfortably this time, the bandage on his arm snug. The two of you remain there, side by side, the silence no longer tense but just… quiet, each of you lost in your own thoughts about the test, the magical wind, and the strange accidents that brought you here.

Even in the quiet, there’s a small comfort in simply being in the same room, both recovering, both tired, both a little awkward. Neither of you says anything, and yet somehow it feels… enough.