"Cedric? CEDRIC!" Cho raised an eyebrow irritably at the good-looking Triwizard champion standing across from her. "Have you been listening to a word I've said?"
"Hmmm?" Completely unphased, Cedric refused to lower his eyes from where a certain Gryffindor seeker was loitering.
Harry Potter, the boy who lived. He had a snitch in his fist, and kept releasing it for a brief second before snatching it out of the air again. He still wore his robes from the last Quidditch match, and his best friend the Weasley boy was talking animatedly with him. They were just close enough so Cedric could make out the scar on Harry's forehead. It was delicately etched into his features, the perfect image of a lightning bolt. Cedric was fascinated by it.
He had often dreamed of what it would be like to brush the bangs away from Harry's forehead, to touch his lips to the marred flesh, to slip his tongue-
"I think it should be completely outlawed- what's your opinion on the Wronski Feint?" Cho's voice, ever consistent, interrupted his reverie.
"Scar." Cedric mumbled… oh god, he hadn't really said that had he?
"What? Didn't catch that."
"Scary." Ah, saved. "Scary, but definitely a useful move in some circumstances."
