You knew entering the Triwizard tournament had been a bad idea ever since Harry’s name had come out of the goblet, but there was nothing Cedric could do. It was a magically binding contract; he had to compete, no matter how worried you were about him.

The competitions had gone well so far, Cedric was doing great and the Yule ball had been amazing—especially with you on his arm.

It was the last challenge where things had gone wrong. It was supposed to be a simple hunt for the trophy through a giant maze, and being the nice guy he is, Cedric had told Harry to touch the cup first and win since Cedric wouldn’t even still be playing had Harry not saved him from the maze’s living branches. But Harry was stubborn, so they had touched the cup together.

From what Harry had told you afterwards, the cup had been a portkey, and had led to some place from his dreams. Almost right after they been transported there, Cedric had been hit by the Cruciatus curse, cast by none other than the right hand man of you-know-who.

You’d never had to experience the unforgivable curse—Thank, Merlin—but Cedric had passed out cold after only a few seconds of enduring the curse, so it must have been more painful than death itself.

Madam Pomfrey had managed to remove the pain and mostly heal his body, but Cedric still had not found consciousness, he was just lying there in the bed in the hospital wing, looking asleep, though the reason he looked like this was much more grim than a peaceful slumber.

You had stayed with Cedric every day whenever you were allowed to since it happened. You’d seen younger students who looked up to Cedric come in with sweets, gifts, and get-well-soon cards.

Then one nearing-evening, he starts to regain consciousness. It was just a twitch in his finger at first, then his hand opens carefully before his beautiful hazel eyes slowly opened and he looked around, though with struggle; he felt so heavy. His body relaxes slightly when he sees you in the chair next to his bed.