Fair and Square
"Three cheers for Diggory, the best Captain and Seeker at Hogwarts. Hip, hip, hooray! Hip, hip, hooray! Hip, hip, hooray!"
Cedric's cheeks grew hot as the kitchen exploded with cheers. He looked down at his feet, unable to meet the gazes of his housemates. They were looking at him full of pride, as though he had done something worth risking being out of bounds and disobeying school curfew. As though he was some sort of hero that they would now worship.
A hand clapped him on the back, and he was forced to look up. "Er, thanks, everyone, but really, it was a team effort and a bit of luck."
"Nonsense, Digg, it was all you!" one of the Hufflepuff Beaters, Arnold Trilby, said. He lifted a bottle of Butterbeer in a toast and, clapping Cedric on the back again, shouted to the room, "You got the Snitch and let us win by one hundred points. One hundred, I tell ya! One hundred!"
Cedric shook his head, his cheeks now feeling like they were on fire. He didn't deserve all this praise, and they knew it. "C'mon, everyone, Gryffindor almost won; it's really no big deal. Potter would've caught the Snitch if he hadn't run into that Dementor."
"Please, Potter's just being whiny because he acted like such a baby out on the field. We won fair and square," one of the Chasers said. He had only just been given permission to leave the Hospital Wing with his barely healed broken arm, yet his face was shining with joy.
"HUFFLEPUFF! HUFFLEPUFF! HUFFLEPUFF!" the room began to cheer, drowning out any more of his protests. "HUFFLEPUFF! HUFFLEPUFF! HUFFLEPUFF!"
Sighing, Cedric pushed off Arnold's arm. The boy didn't seem to notice, turning to one of the fourth years and offering her a drink. The girl glanced at Cedric, winking and giggling, yet he was already jumping off the table his teammates had made him stand on.
He walked across the room, dodging as many of the claps on the back and handshakes that he could. He wanted to leave the room, to get as far away from the false celebrations as he possibly could. It didn't seem likely, however, given the number of people blocking the exit, their drinks sloshing around as they sang some sort of Hufflepuff-pride chant. Making a detour, he headed instead for the darker corner of the room: a small area behind the table that was reserved for serving meals to the Slytherins.
Sighing, he slid down the wall and stared around the room. Gold and black confetti wafted down from the rafters, stirred up as a replica Snitch darted around. Someone had hung large yellow and black banners around the wall. The words 'Badgers' and 'winners' moved across the material, flashing every now and again. One banner, hanging directly above the table on which Cedric had not long been standing, caught his eye more than the others. He groaned, seeing a picture of him from the match taking up most of the banner. The Golden Snitch was held triumphantly above his head as he smiled out at everyone.
Loud music began to pump through the room. Through the table legs, he could see his peers start dancing, their feet tapping doing nothing to improve his mood.
Letting out another groan, he buried his head in his knees, trying to block it all out. Why couldn't they understand that he did not want this? That he didn't deserve this? They had only won by default; Potter had almost had the Snitch by the time Cedric had even spotted it, and if it wasn't for the interference, the younger boy would have surely caught it. Didn't they all realise that it was the first game he had caught the Snitch since he was in his fourth year? Couldn't they connect the fact that this was all just a strange stroke of luck, and that he was actually just a useless Seeker and Captain?
Closing his eyes, he wished he had never gone to visit his teammate in the Hospital Wing earlier that day. Whilst he was glad to have seen that the Chaser, Joe Ogden, had no more than a broken arm, he knew that he probably would not have run into Potter, Wood, or any of the other Gryffindor team either. He would not have heard that Potter only lost because he had seen a Dementor and fainted. Perhaps, if he had not been there when he had, he would now be able to pretend that he won fair and square, just like everyone else was doing.
"Hey, you look sad. Do you mind if I ask you what's wrong?" a soft voice said, barely audible over The Weird Sisters song currently thumping.
Cedric looked up, surprised to see one of the girls from his year standing over him. She held out a bottle of Butterbeer, and although he was not in the mood, he accepted the drink to be polite.
"Hi, Darcy," he said. "Nothing, just celebrating the win."
Darcy tilted her head before a bubble of laughter escaped her lips. "Funny way to celebrate down here, all by yourself," she said.
"I suppose so," Cedric said, plastering on a small smile. Part of him wished Darcy would leave him be, yet a bigger part of him was relieved that at least one person was not trying t congratulate him.
She motioned to the spot next to him, silently asking permission to sit. Cedric shrugged, taking a sip of the Butterbeer. Despite the fact that it was only there as part of the celebration, the liquid was warm and welcoming against his parched throat. After finding out that the win was nothing more than a sham, he had skipped dinner and retired straight to the common room. His friends had barely managed to convince him to appear in the kitchen, using the excuse that they were hungry themselves and wanted company to make him move.
"I think I ate too much," she said, probably in an attempt to break the silence.
Cedric looked at her. "I suppose it's a given where we are," he said.
Darcy giggled, raising a hand when a small snort escaped. Cedric pretended to not hear it. He instead studied the Butterbeer bottle, looking as small amber bubbles rose towards the lid. It would be great if he could escape and take the bottle with him.
"I think I know why you are upset," Darcy said after a moment.
Cedric took another sip of the soothing liquid, an eyebrow raised. "Oh?"
Darcy smiled again, showing off a row of perfect white teeth. Her eyes were serious, however, and after a moment's hesitation, she took his free hand. Cedric looked down at it, but just like the Butterbeer, he found it warm and comforting.
The blonde nodded, her curls bobbing up and down with the movement. Then, rubbing a thumb over his knuckles, she said, "And I just want you to know, I understand."
"Understand?"
"Uh-huh. I would be upset too if what happened today happened to me," she said. "It's a horrible feeling."
Cedric sat up from his slouched position. He wasn't sure he had heard correctly, the music still blaring, but it sounded like someone finally understood how he was feeling. Darcy knew that the match wasn't supposed to have been won the way it was; she knew he didn't need to be treated as a hero.
Taking another swig of Butterbeer, Cedric smiled at her. "You're the first one."
"Really?" Darcy blinked but returned the smile. "I thought everyone knew."
Cedric spat out some of his drink, barely choking back the laughter that came to his lips. Sweeping his arm across the room, he gestured to all the decorations and rowdy Hufflepuffs.
"They've a funny way of showing it," he said, grinning.
Darcy tilted her head again, her smile faltering. "Don't be ridiculous," she said, shaking her head, "We all know you deserve this win. Don't listen to what that p–p–prat Potter has to say. Unfortunately, not everyone in this world can take a loss as gently as they should."
"Darcy… Potter isn't saying anything," he said slowly, the Butterbeer suddenly not tasting as great as before.
"Of course he is, but you mustn't let him get you so upset. He's just a sore loser."
Pulling his hand from her grasp, Cedric put down his half-empty bottle and stood up. His head was now ringing, the music and chatter not helping. Staring at Darcy, he shook his eyes.
"I thought you got it," he said, his cheeks once more growing hot. This time, though, it wasn't from embarrassment. "I thought you—someone—finally got it!"
"Got what? Why are you shouting?" Darcy said, standing up.
Cedric ran a hand through his hair. His head now felt like a hammer was inside, pounding away at his brain. He didn't mean to shout at the girl, but now it seemed like the only way to get the message through.
"This. This is all fake! I only won the game because Potter fainted. He's not the sore loser. We are; we should've had a rematch. Why doesn't anyone understand that?" he said.
A few people glanced their way, but he ignored them. Turning on his heel, he pushed through the crowd, determined to get away from Darcy. A few students gave indignant cries when he shoved past them, but as soon as they realised it was him, they patted him on the back, congratulating him.
Gritting his teeth, he made his way to the door. It was still blocked by a few dancers.
"Excuse me," he said.
"Hey, it's Diggory!" one of the boys shouted, throwing his hands in the air. "Diggory! Diggory! Diggor—"
"I said, excuse me," he repeated, pushing his way through. The boy stumbled a little, the chant dying on his lips. Cedric didn't pause to apologise, nor did he bother to listen to whatever the boy said next as he climbed through the portrait hole and out of the kitchen.
The air was cooler in the corridor, and after turning the corner, he paused a moment to let it wash over his face. His ears were still ringing, even though the music was now contained within the kitchen. He breathed in and out and turned back to the painting of the fruit.
Why wouldn't they listen to him? Whatever happened to the good old Hufflepuffs that were supposed to be there for each other? They should not be celebrating—at least not a win made by him.
No, that wasn't fair. He shouldn't have lost his temper with them. They were just trying to support him. Still, there was no way he could go back in there, nor did he feel like going back to the common room lest he ran into more worshippers. Putting his hand in his pockets, he began to walk down the corridor.
The castle was darker than he thought it would be. Whilst candles were spaced along the walls, their flickering flames cast more shadows than light. His heart skipped a beat when a strange yowling echoed from nearby. He paused, his ears strained. The sound came again, but this time he was able to distinguish it as one of Mrs Norris' demon cries. Shivering, he decided to turn back and find another path to, well, he didn't know where he was going.
That much became all the more apparent when he knocked into someone.
"Oh, sorry," a girl said.
"No, my fault," Cedric said, rubbing his head.
The girl smiled at him, her dark eyes kind. He recognised her as the Ravenclaw Seeker, Cho Chang. What she was doing out at this time of night, he wasn't sure, but he didn't particularly care either.
"Good game today," she said, running a hand through her long, black hair.
"Yeah, right, thanks," Cedric said, turning away from her.
It was just what he needed, another false praise. When he turned back to her, she was still looking at him, but now her smile was smaller.
"No problem," she said. She was still fiddling with her hair, shuffling from foot to foot. When he didn't say anything, she added, "I wish I could do what you did. You homed in on that Snitch so quickly!"
Cedric rolled his eyes. "Anyone could have done that, Potter did that."
"Well I've never been that quick," she said.
Any trace of a smile was gone from her face, her eyes narrowed.
Cedric sighed. "Sorry, I'm just not feeling right. It's not been that great day," he said.
Cho nodded, but he was already walking past her. He needed to leave before he said anything else he regretted.
She didn't seem to want to give up though. In a quiet voice, she said, "I think I understand how you're feeling."
Cedric paused mid-step, groaning. It was deja vu all over again. Squaring his shoulders, trying to hold in his annoyance, he slowly turned around.
"You understand, do you? You understand that I shouldn't have won because Harry fainted? That Gryffindor should have won, and that anyone with half a brain could see that? Do you?" he said, his voice rising with each word.
Cho flinched but didn't back down. She folded her arms, and in a steady voice said, "No, I understand what it feels like to catch the Snitch by default. It happened my second game as Seeker; Higgs got hit by a Bludger sent by one of their own Beaters just because catching it. I remember that the Snitch darted in my direction and I only just caught it.
"But I also understand that you still won fair and square, and the fact that you don't think so proves as much."
Cedric scoffed. Cho's first game was different… sort of. Bludgers were part of the game, Dementors were not. "How?"
"Tell me, what did you do when you found out what happened to Harry? Did you know what happened during the game, or after?"
"Of course I didn't know he had fainted then. I probably would've helped break his fall if I did."
"And?" Cho prompted, raising a thin eyebrow.
It was Cedric's turn to shuffle on the spot. "And when I found out what happened I asked for a rematch."
Cho grinned at him. "There you go. I don't think I know anyone who would do the same. Come on, Diggory, we all saw you catch the Snitch. We all saw you win, and rightfully so. Sure, it sucks that Harry fell, but it could've happened to anyone. Don't beat yourself up, ok?"
What she was saying was starting to make sense. After all, he didn't fancy the Dementors much himself.
Cho must have taken his silence for denial, for she shrugged her shoulders and started to walk away. "Suit yourself, then. Just don't say I didn't try."
Cedric closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Chang? Er, Cho?" he said, opening his eyes again.
The girl turned her head. "Yes?"
"I—Alright, I suppose you're right. Thanks."
Cho's face lit up in a smile again and she winked at him. "I know."
Cedric found his own lips twisting into a smile.
"Just don't go complaining if you catch the Snitch in our match because I certainly won't be going easy on you, Dementors or not," she said.
A small chuckle escaped his lips as he watched Cho turn around and continue walking. Her long, raven hair swung back and forth down her back, and Cedric found himself waiting until she rounded the corner before he made his way back towards the kitchens.
Cho was right, sort of. He did catch the Snitch, after all, which even without an opponent was a feat in itself. And if everyone else was still insisting he had won fairly, he may as well humour them and enjoy the rest of the celebrations.
A/N: This fic was written for Camp Potter 2017, hosted by Cheeky Slytherin Lass on the HPFC forum. Specifically, for the Malfoy Cabin, Week two: Archery: Write about a celebration.
Optional prompts:
1. Remember 2. Listen 3. "I think I ate too much." 4. Try
2657 words.
I hope this story wasn't too weird/ boring/ cliche. Thanks for reading!