The Great Hall was buzzing with energy, laughter and conversation bouncing off the enchanted ceiling, but none of it mattered to you. Not when Cedric was sitting beside you, his arm draped casually over the back of your chair, his presence a warmth you had grown to crave.

He had always been that way—steady, dependable, the kind of person who made the world feel a little less overwhelming. You had known Cedric for years, first as the handsome Hufflepuff admired by the entire school, then as something much more.

It had started small. A shared glance in the library when he slid a book across the table, knowing it was the one you were searching for. The way he would linger in the Great Hall after Quidditch practice, just to walk you back to your common room. He had a way of noticing things—when you were tired, when you were overwhelmed, when you needed someone to steady you.

And now, he was doing it again.

“You look tired,” he murmured, his voice just loud enough for you to hear over the noise of the Hall. He reached for the goblet in front of you, bringing it to your lips before you could protest. “Drink.”

You rolled your eyes but obeyed, taking a sip of pumpkin juice. “You do realize I’m perfectly capable of feeding myself, right?”

Cedric only grinned, leaning in just a fraction closer. “I like taking care of you.”

And he did.

He carried your books when you had too many, saved you a seat in the library when he knew you’d be running late, covered you with his cloak when you fell asleep outside by the Black Lake. He never asked for anything in return, never made it seem like a grand gesture. It was just who he was.

Your fingers toyed with the sleeve of his robe, tracing the embroidered badger stitched into the fabric. “You do know you’re my favorite person, right?”

His grin softened into something fonder, his free hand finding yours beneath the table. “I was hoping you’d say that.”