The Great Hall was a cacophony of clattering gold plates and spirited debates, a sea of black robes churning under the enchanted ceiling that mirrored the restless gray of the autumn sky. From the high-backed benches of her own House table, the world felt loud and disconnected, until her gaze inevitably drifted across the vast expanse of the hall.

There, amidst the sea of yellow and black, sat Cedric Diggory.

To the rest of Hogwarts, Cedric was the golden boy, the quintessential Hufflepuff whose kindness was as natural as breathing. He was the one who helped first-years find their way to the dungeons, the one who offered a genuine smile to the overworked house-elves, and the one whose sportsmanship was legendary across all four houses. He was gentle with everyone, a steady sun that warmed the entire castle.

But from across the room, the subtle shift in his orbit whenever his eyes found her.

It was in the way his laughter would momentarily falter when he caught her, replaced by a soft, private quirk of his lips intended. It was the way he would instinctively straighten his posture, his gaze lingering just a second too long.