Chapter Two
Cedric watched her. It wasn't intentional, not really. He wasn't keeping tabs on Granger, and he didn't hound for information about her. The younger Gryffindor was someone that really had nothing to do with him. He didn't feel inclined to even talk to her at first. But since his third year, he had found himself, subconsciously, looking at that bushy haired girl(it was only bushy because the riot of curls around her face was frizzy and thick). Subtly, at odd moments when he didn't even notice the action itself until she looked back (mortifying whenever she did), or she moved out of sight.
He also noticed things... That she was isolated, and he remembers vividly how sorry he had felt for thinking ill of her. She was smarter than he had been at that age, but the wide berth that most of her house(except for a few of the older kids) made him feel as if he had been an arse, even if he had never told the girl anything of ire, she had still been the focus of it. She was a lonely kid that took solace in her books, and on some level, he could emphasize with that. He had never really had friends till Hogwarts: he went over to the Weasleys sometimes growing up, but Ron as too young, Ginny a giggling girl and the twins were perfectly content with themselves(neither Fred nor George had the inclination of playing with him, and when Bill and Charlie there he was just a tag-a-long at best whenever his mum had to come along to have tea with Mrs. Weasley).
Sometimes the tears would glisten in Hermione Granger's eyes, but her little chin high and her brown eyes, a light, rich color, even with the tears, would narrow and she would speak, something witty and sharp no doubt, from the reactions of others... But still, he knew someone had to befriend the girl, it wouldn't do for her to be alone, she needed to human interaction.
Then he had come up with the brilliant plan... He would be her friend. He had never really been more embarrassed to be so giddy at the prospect, and after the Halloween feast, he would have spoken to her(it was only then that he had plucked up the courage). He had waited, glancing at the doors as he laughed absentmindedly with his mates. She had never come, and then a troll had to come and make him anxious... Where was Granger? Was she okay? Those questions plagued him all night...
Then the next morning she had come to breakfast, chatting adamantly with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, and the lonely little girl that was so damn smart had found friends without him stepping in. He had felt... Cheated? He supposed that was the word, as a third year, watching that little first year with that near sentient hair beam and laugh as she hadn't before, with the other two had made him feel cheated...
