"I mBaile Athá Cliath, Ní fhaca mé riamh,
Aon chailín níos sciamhaí ná Mol Ní Mhaoileoin,
Ag stiúradh a barra,
gach áit ins a chathair,
Le ruacain is sliogáin, is iad go breá beo!

Is iad go breá beo, is iad go breá beo,
Le ruacain is sliogáin, is iad go breá beo.
"

I sing softly to myself as I wander into an empty classroom, fiddling with the end of my robes. I perch on a desk, fiddling with a couple of pieces of colored thread that I found lying around in the dorm. It's comforting, just plaiting these strands together, and singing in Gaelic, knowing no-one is watching me.

"You've got a lovely voice," a voice says from behind me. I jump, holding a hand to my chest, turning around. So much for being alone. Cedric is standing in the doorway, watching me. "What were you singing?" he comes into the room properly, shutting the door behind him.

"Uh…Molly Malone…you know, in Gaelic…"

"What's that?" he sits next to me, his arm brushing mine and making me shiver.

"An old Irish folk song."

"Can you sing it in English?"

"If…you…like," I say hesitantly. I take a deep breath, "In Dublin's fair city, where girls are so pretty, I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone, as she wheeled her wheel-barrow, through streets broad and narrow, crying cockles and mussels alive, alive-o!"

"I have heard that before," he says.

"It's quite famous," I say.

We sit in silence for a few seconds, then Cedric asks, "What other music do you like?"

"Country," I say. "Carrie Underwood, Tim McGraw, Luke Bryan, Colbie Caillat…that sort of thing."

"I've never heard of any of those artists," he says honestly.

"Chelsea says that they're not proper celebrities."

"Chelsea's an idiot," he winks at me; I smile back.

"What music do you like?" I ask.

"The Weird Sisters," he says, laughing at my blank expression. "I'm guessing you've never heard of them."

"No," I say.

"We'll have to do a music swap sometime," he says.

"Sure," I blush.


"Are you going to enter?" I ask Cedric as we walk out of the great hall after the Welcoming Feast.

"Probably," he shrugs. "I'm old enough."

A chill runs up my spine and I shiver as he continues, "It would be great if one of us Hufflepuffs was chosen, wouldn't it?"

"It would," I agree, as we turn to go down the steps to the common room. Just then Rebekah appears, dragging her friend Hayley behind her.

"Sheer, Sheer, did you see?" she grabs my hand.

"See what?" I ask her.

"Chelsea! She was practically drooling over that guy…Krum something or other. It was so funny!" she giggles.

"He's not that handsome," Hayley butts in. "What's the deal with him anyway?"

Cedric answers for me. "He's the Bulgarian Seeker – you know, in Quidditch. Very famous – he competed in the World Cup this summer."

"That's boring," Rebekah says. She doesn't really care about Quidditch. "But anyway, did you see that pretty girl from Beauxbatons?"

"Yes," Cedric says. He glances at me, and I see a faint flush tinge his cheeks. "She looked part Veela."

"I didn't think she was pretty," Hayley says, putting her hands on her hips. "Well, not as pretty as you, Sheer."

I blush bright red. "I…I'm not pretty," I stutter, pleased and surprised at the compliment.

Startlingly, Cedric speaks up, "You are pretty, Saoirse." I blush even more – even though Cedric and I have been hanging around together a lot more, I still haven't got over my crush on him.

"They're right," Rebekah speaks up. I smile at them all.

"Thank you."


"The champion for Durmstrang is…Viktor Krum!" Dumbledore announces, reading off the charred slip of paper. Krum gets up from the Slytherin table and slouches to the end of the hall, disappearing into the empty chamber. Cedric leans in to whisper, "No surprises there," to me. I laugh as he straightens up again and says something to his friend Brett who is sitting across the table from him. Chelsea shoots me a dirty look from further down the table, where she's surrounded by a group of 'bitches from hell' as Rebekah, Hayley and their other friend Maggie call them. Since she 'dumped' me as her best friend, she's started hanging out with our dorm mates, who she has effectively turned against me. Sigh.

"The champion from Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour," Dumbledore calls as the Goblet of Fire shoots another piece of paper out.

"That's the Veela girl," Maggie says to me.

"She is pretty," I say, watching the girl gracefully rise from her table and dance towards the antechamber door, her long sheet of silver-blonde hair swinging delicately behind her. Rebekah gives me a look, and I smile at her.

"And finally…" everyone in the hall is holding their breath, waiting for the announcement of the Hogwarts champion. Cedric is sitting, tense beside me, holding his breath.

"The Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory!" Our table erupts into cheers – Cedric's face has split into a wide grin as he gets up, giving me a smile and heading up the hall.

"Yes!" Brett and Xavier are pumping their fists, practically bouncing up and down in their seats. I hug Maggie, Hayley and Rebekah in turn, grinning so hard that my cheeks are starting to ache. He's done it – he's our champion.

All of us at the Hufflepuff table are too busy celebrating to realize that the Goblet of Fire is glowing red once more; another piece of paper shoots out of it. Dumbledore calls for silence again, looking worried.

"Harry Potter," he reads out.


"I swear they're following me!" he complains to me and Brett as we make our way back to the common room after dinner, looking over his shoulder as a group of giggling girls come around the corner, flicking their hair and throwing flirty smiles at Cedric's back.

"It's your own damn fault for being too handsome," Brett tells him, ducking to avoid a punch to the arm.

I laugh quietly – the girls are only following Cedric because he's the best looking guy in his year. Scrap that – in the whole school…but then again I would say that…wouldn't I?

We escape them by getting into the Hufflepuff common room, throwing our bags down and flopping in a group of armchairs by the fire. I cross my legs and pull out a textbook.

"Still studying?" Brett asks me.

"Too right. I've got so much homework," I sigh, shooting a glance at Cedric out of the corner of my eye. He smiles at me, leaning forward to see what I'm reading; his hand accidently brushing mine. I stiffen very slightly as he grins. "Charms, I see."

"Too right," I continue reading, trying to ignore his gaze on me. I finish the reading, and then put it away, taking out my folder of songs. It was Cedric's idea – to keep a record of the lyrics of my favourite songs so I have access to them at a moment's notice.

Unfortunately, Chelsea chooses this moment to come prancing across the room, trailed by her three new friends, Fern, Kristin and Sheena. "Hey Cedric!" she enthuses, perching on the edge of his armchair. He stiffens as she throws him a flirty grin. "Brett," she acknowledges Brett's presence – completely ignoring me.

Her friends, it seems, have different ideas. Sheena and Fern sit down next to me, Fern snatching away my folder. "Give that back!" I protest quietly, but they take no notice of me, flipping through the pages I've been so careful to create.

"What kind of music do you call this?" Fern says loudly, attracting the attention of Kristin, who's practically flung herself across Brett. Brett, needless to say, is looking very uncomfortable.

"What's the little leprechaun been doing now?" she asks lazily.

"Listening to that country shit," Sheena says.

Cedric has succeeded in pushing Chelsea off him, and sits up, glaring at the two of them. "If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all," he snaps.

"It's a free country," Fern raises an eyebrow as she pulls one of my pieces of parchment out. "What the hell do you call this?"

"Gaelic," I say softly, averting my eyes from them.

"Ooh, say something in Gaelic," Kristin says. "Chelsea told us all about it."

That makes me see red again, "Trasna ort féin!" I say rudely before I can stop myself. What is it with annoying girls and the f-word? I wonder to myself.

I notice Cedric grinning at me, having caught the gist of what I just said. Their mouths flop open in shock. "What?" Kristin stands up.

"She just told you to go and f*** yourself," Cedric says, standing up and picking up his back. "I'm going to bed. Coming, Brett?"

"Sure," Brett stands up as I snatch my book off the girls, and grab my bag, leaving the four of them frozen in shock.

"Goodnight," Cedric tells me.

"Night," I say, heading into the girls dorm tunnel.


I'm sitting the library a couple of weeks after that incident when Cedric rushes in, dumping his bag next to me, and sitting down. "The first task is dragons," he says in a low voice. I drop my quill on the table, abandoning my essay as I turn to look at him in shock.

"Do you have to kill them? How do you know?" questions spill from my mouth.

"Harry told me." He looks at my expression. "Oh, come on Saoirse. Harry Potter. He's seen them. And no, we only have to get past them."

"How?" he asks.

"I don't know," he says. "I was wondering if you could help me research."

"Of course," I say. "I've just got to finish this last sentence, and then I can help. Go find some books."

We spend that entire evening sitting and reading about dragons, talking and drawing different plans on scrap pieces of parchment, finally coming up with a good plan.

"That should work," I say, folding up the paper to put in Cedric's bag. "You can do that spell?"

"Yes," he says. "We had to learn it for our O.W.L.s."

"It will be fine," I say, trying to convince myself more than him.

"I hope," he says.


The night before the task, Cedric is a bundle of nerves. Nothing Brett, Xavier or I can say will make him feel better – nothing at all. Finally, I stand up. "Let's go for a walk," I suggest quietly.

"Okay," he says. We leave the Hufflepuff common room, and wander along the dark corridors, arms occasionally brushing. We don't talk, but it's a comfortable silence, a nice silence.

After a while, he stops me, and we sit down on a windowsill opposite the Charms classroom. "I'm scared," he admits after a while. "Very scared."

"It doesn't matter," I say quietly.

"How?" his grey eyes gleam through the darkness at me, staring straight at me.

"I'll tell you a bit of wisdom that my Ma shared with me when I was seven years old," I say, unconsciously taking his hand in my own. It's warm, slightly calloused; his fingers tighten around mine. "Everyone knows fear. The bravest hide it, that's all."

"You're so wise," he hums, releasing my hand. I feel a slight tug of disappointment when this happens, but it doesn't last long, as he puts his arms around me, pulling me close so I can rest my head on his shoulder. My whole body is tingling – I'm so close I could just reach up and kiss him, right here and now. But I won't…I don't truly know how he feels about me…I won't embarrass myself.

"You must promise me to stay safe," I say, suddenly struck by a chill again.

"I promise," he says, resting his cheek on top of my head. We stay like that for a long time.


"You did brilliant!" I rush towards Cedric who's just coming out of the champions' tent, half of his face covered in thick orange paste. I stop in front of him, uncertain, but he puts his arms around me and pulls me into a hug, his arms warm around me.

"Thank you," he says, swaying on the spot, still holding me tightly. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"It's no problem," I say against the shoulder of his robes. "You were amazing. I'm so proud of you."

We break apart, but Cedric keeps hold of one of my hands. "How's your burn?"

"Mending," he grins ruefully. "Madam Pomfrey said that the paste will disappear in about an hour."

The tent flap opens again, and the girl champion from Beauxbatons, Fleur Delacour, appears, looking pleased and relieved. "'ello again, Cedric. Who's zis?" she says, taking in our clasped hands.

"This is my friend, Saoirse," Cedric grins at me, as much as the paste will allow. "Saoirse, this is Fleur."

"It is lovely to meet you, Seersa," Fleur attempts my name. I smile at her – when I first saw her at the Welcome Feast, I thought she was a bit full of herself, but she seems very nice now.

"It's lovely to meet you too," I say. Her brow wrinkles in confusion.

"Sorry, could you speak slower? I do not understand your accent."

"Sorry," I say, doing as she asked. "I said 'it's lovely to meet you too.'"

She smiles again. "I 'ad better be going."

"We'd better go too," I say. "I saw Brett and Xav run off to set up a party."

"Party?" Cedric asks.

"For you, silly!" I elbow him in the ribs.

He cracks another smile. "We'd better not keep the guys waiting then. See you around, Fleur."

"Bye!" she says as we turn to head back up to the castle, our linked arms swinging in-between us.