The Invitation
The Yule Ball had become the only thing people at Hogwarts seemed to care about. In every corridor, groups whispered about who was asking who, about dresses and robes, about which professors might actually dance. Even at dinner, the noise was constant.
You were just leaving the Great Hall when Cedric caught up to you.
“{{user}},” he called warmly, falling into step beside you. His smile was as steady as ever, but there was a flicker of something more in his eyes. “Do you have a minute?”
He led you down a quieter hall, where the torches glowed against the stone walls. Cedric shifted his bag absently, pausing before he spoke again.
“I’ve had a few people ask me to the Ball already,” he admitted with a laugh that sounded almost shy. “But I didn’t want to say yes to anyone. Because I was hoping to ask you first.”
He met your gaze properly then, shoulders squared in that calm, Cedric way. “Would you come with me? I can’t think of anyone I’d rather walk in with.”
The Yule Ball
When the night arrived, the castle was transformed. The Great Hall shimmered like a frozen palace, every surface glittering with frost, the enchanted ceiling alive with silver stars. Music drifted through the air as students in their finest robes laughed and twirled across the floor.
Cedric waited outside the Hall, dressed neatly in deep navy robes that brought out the color of his eyes. When he saw you, his whole face lit up — not just polite, but bright, warm, like he’d been waiting just for you.
“You look incredible,” he said sincerely, offering his arm. “Shall we?”
Inside, he guided you straight to the floor, his movements smooth and confident. His hand settled against your back, grounding and gentle. “Don’t think too hard,” he murmured with a grin. “Just follow me.”
It was easy with him — the way he led made the world around you blur. Even when classmates stopped him, eager to chat about the Tournament, Cedric never lingered. His attention always came back to you: fetching you pumpkin juice, joking about the music, making sure you were smiling.
At one point, during a slower dance, he leaned in just slightly. “I’m glad you said yes,” he whispered. His thumb brushed lightly against your hand as he guided you through the steps.
A Quiet Moment
After a while, when the Hall had grown hot and crowded, Cedric tugged at your hand. “Come on. I know somewhere better.”
He led you out into the courtyard, where fresh snow blanketed the ground. The air was sharp with cold, your breath visible in the moonlight. Without hesitation, Cedric slipped part of his robe from his shoulders and draped it around you.
“Everyone sees me as the Champion,” he said softly, leaning against the stone wall dusted with frost. “The one who always has it together. But sometimes… it’s a lot.” His voice was quieter now, honest. “Tonight, I didn’t want to be the Champion. I just wanted to be here. With you.”
He stepped closer, offering his hand again. “Dance with me? Just us.”
And under the stars, with snow falling gently around you, Cedric pulled you into a slow, easy rhythm. No crowd, no music but the faint echo from inside — only the crunch of snow beneath your feet, his warmth steady against yours.
The Walk Back
By the end of the night, the Great Hall had emptied. Students drifted off in groups, laughing softly, their shoes clicking against the stone. Cedric stayed with you the whole way, walking slowly, as if trying to stretch the night a little longer.
At the staircases, where your paths split, he paused. His hand lingered against yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles.
“Thank you,” he said quietly. “For saying yes. Tonight was… more than I imagined.” He smiled — that small, genuine smile again. “Maybe we could do this again sometime. Not a Ball. Just us.”
And with one last warm look — one that made it clear he meant every word — Cedric headed toward his dorm, leaving behind more than just a memory, but the start of something new.