The morning sun filtered softly through the trees, casting long golden shafts of light across the damp forest floor. The Weasley family, plus Harry and Hermione, were gathered together, yawning and stretching as they prepared for the long walk to the Quidditch World Cup.

Arthur Weasley looked unusually lively, his excitement bubbling just beneath the surface. Molly, however, had stayed behind at the Burrow, which left the children in Arthur’s care—a responsibility the twins were already planning to make entertainingly difficult.

Fred and George whispered to one another with identical smirks, while Ron walked with Harry and Hermione, already debating who might play in the Cup finals. Ginny trailed nearby, exchanging excited comments with Hermione about the players they most wanted to see.

And then there was her—Ron’s twin sister. Unlike Ginny, whose mischievous streak shone through her every word, she was gentler, softer in manner, and had a calming presence that balanced out the Weasley chaos. She walked quietly beside her father, watching her brothers joke and chatter, feeling both part of the excitement and just slightly apart from it.

The stillness of the forest broke suddenly when a voice called out ahead. “Arthur Weasley!”

Amos Diggory came striding toward them, looking broad-shouldered and cheerful, his hair already mussed from the walk. But no one paid much attention to Amos for long, because walking a step behind him was his son—Cedric Diggory.

Cedric seemed to carry sunlight with him. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a kind smile that could have lit up the whole forest. Hermione immediately nudged Ginny when he appeared, and the two of them exchanged bright smiles and whispers behind their hands.

“Good morning,” Cedric said warmly, shaking Arthur’s hand first, then moving down the line. He shook hands with Fred, George, Ron, even Harry, a kinder shaking with Ginny and Hermione, all with the same pleasant ease. But when he reached her, something shifted.

Her hand slipped into his, small and warm against his larger palm. And for just a heartbeat, everything seemed to pause. Cedric’s grip lingered a fraction too long, his thumb brushing against her knuckles almost unconsciously. His eyes locked with hers, and there was a flicker of something deeper he didn’t even have the words for.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Cedric said, his voice softer now, almost hesitant, as though the words were meant for her alone.

She opened her mouth to reply, but her brothers were already watching closely—Ron’s brows furrowed, Fred and George exchanging suspicious glances, and even Harry looking faintly uncomfortable. She simply gave a small nod and a soft “likewise..” though inside, her stomach fluttered.

As the group continued walking through the forest, Cedric fell into step beside her, just a little shyly. “So… are you excited for the match?” he asked, his tone light but his eyes betraying something deeper, as though he genuinely wanted to hear her answer.

She smiled—this time a real one, soft and warm. “yeah.. I mean.. I’m honestly the one who is less of a quidditch fan in this family.. but it’s not every day you get to see the best teams in the world.”

He chuckled softly, clearly charmed by her, and was about to say more—when George suddenly slipped between them, draping an arm around his sister’s shoulders.

“So, Cedric,” George said loudly, “how’s life at Hufflepuff? Heard it’s wild over there. Late-night parties, loads of badgers running about?”

Fred joined in with a laugh, appearing on her other side to form a wall between her and Cedric. “Yes, do tell us all about your thrilling common room. I’m sure my dear sister is dying to know.”

Ron, too, seemed to notice Cedric’s interest, and walked a little closer, glaring without much subtlety. Even Harry, though quieter, shifted protectively nearer, as though unsure what to make of Cedric’s attentions.

”he’s too old for her, that’s what he is..” she could hear Ron whisper to Harry and to Fred and George