When they entered the cafeteria ten minutes later - Cedric brightly and Hermione with great reluctance - Hermione was pleased to find that the student numbers were beginning to thin out. Cedric had insisted they stop on the way so he could change back into his uniform, even though he would have gotten away with wearing his kit to classes.

Hermione trailed after him as Cedric wasted no time grabbing a tray and joining the diminished line before heartily filling his plate. His portion sizes seemed far bigger than any Hermione had ever received (when she wasn't bringing sandwiches from home). However, she imagined the unfamiliar generosity was down to Cedric's winning smile, laid back demeanour and that he greeted all of the dinner ladies by name. They oohed and awed over him from under their hairnets and starched hats and told him he was a 'sweet boy' while Hermione rolled her eyes and tried not to smile.

She did her best to 'blend in' while Cedric was on a charm offensive, and stopped herself from looking around at the clusters of students. Hermione rarely came into the cafeteria and the noise - layer upon layer of scuffs and chomps under laughs and taunts - was almost overwhelming.

Lunch ran for ninety minutes at Hogwarts, something of an oddity when compared to other schools in the area. The rationale was that it gave students more time to complete assignments or the extracurricular activities that Hogwarts so valued, inside of the school day. Hermione usually had a quick lunch with Harry, Ron and whoever else was around at the beginning of the slot and then headed off to the library or one of her various clubs and societies.

But not today.

While she was woolgathering, Cedric walked over to the next station and Hermione scampered after him while trying to look 'casual'. She was pretty sure she looked as awkward as ever. It would help if she could decide what she was trying to achieve. Hermione was torn between keeping a suitable distance and standing so close behind Cedric that there was a chance other people wouldn't see her.

As promised, Cedric picked her up a cup of tea and laughed when she selected one of the complicated-sounding herbal infusions that the school had started selling at the beginning of term. They were delicious, fruity but most importantly to Hermione, free of caffeine. She could still remember the shakes she had for three days following last year's exams after she'd existed on coffee, Pro Plus and Red Bull for a month. She'd promised her parents she would try to avoid those things in the future. Hermione was determined to try; sometimes, she still thought she could taste the clawing sweetness on the back of her tongue.

Cedric paid, exchanging more happy chat with the cashier and then gestured with his overloaded tray for them to find a seat.

As they crossed the large room, Hermione spied Blaise Zabini holding court and leaning back in his chair like he was dining al fresco on the french riviera. The fashion-forward student had a large group around him because, of course he did. Hermione saw Blaises' eyebrows raise as she walked past, but she did her best to pretend she hadn't seen him, even though she felt his eyes on her back as she followed Cedric through the scattered tables.

"Everything alright?" Cedric asked, and Hermione managed to nod.

"Yes," she lied, succinctly if not convincingly. "Everything's fine. Where are we going?"

"To sit," Cedric said with a roll of his eyes and Hermione had the sudden realisation that being on the other side of the expression she so favoured was pretty annoying.

Hermione's anxiety built as they moved past scores of deserted tables and got closer and closer to the floor to ceiling windows that lined the back of the large space. Only a few groups sat in that area, and none of them were ones Hermione had ever imagined she had admittance to.

"With the football team?" she asked as she spied some familiar faces sitting over two tables littered with plates and planners.

"With my friends," Cedric clarified pointedly. Hermione's feet stuttered and protested, but she kept on walking. The only thing more embarrassing than what was about to happen would have been turning on her heel and running away. She was glad Cedric had insisted on putting her drink on his tray, she would have probably dropped it by now, either through mounting nerves or as a cover to get out of there.

Cedric looked down at her and sighed. "If we sit together, just us, we are never going to be left alone."

Hermione knew that was true, but it didn't ease the swashing feeling in her stomach, it was like her intestines had just been put on a spin dry.

"It might even be useful," Cedric pressed with enthusiasm, and Hermione grimaced.

"To whom?" she asked archly, and Cedric took a step closer.

"They're not going to be… mean," he intoned, and Hermione crossed her arms defensively.

"So you say, they like you."

As they approached what Hermione was internally calling 'certain doom', she tried to relax her features so as not to resemble a petulant toddler being dragged away from soft play.

"Everyone, this is Hermione," Cedric said, needlessly gesturing towards her. She managed a wave she was sure looked every bit as awkward as she felt. "Hermione this is Cassius Warrington, Adrian Pucey, Terry Boot and Eddie Carmichael."

"Hi," she said as their greetings were called back, all overlapping each other.

Cedric nodded in the direction of the bench seat closest to them, and Hermione folded herself down with as much grace as she was capable of achieving. Cedric followed, bunching up next to her until their thighs were pressed together - sealing their contact from hip to knee. Hermione rushed to grab her tea before Cedric could offer, and took a huge sip that almost burnt the taste buds off her tongue before lancing her throat. Hermione managed to stifle her pained whimper and set the cup back down. She hoped the pink in her cheeks would be attributed to the steam pouring off her drink rather than her certainty that she could feel Cedric's pulse against her knee cap.

"So, you're interviewing Ced for the school paper?"

Hermione turned towards Adrian Pucey, a tall boy who's limbs always looked slightly too long for him to adequately manage. He was gazing at her contemplatively. She winced at his shortening of Cedric's name, but she - wisely - said nothing. Ron and Harry called her Mione, after all.

"Yes," she confirmed easily, and she looked up at Cedric from under her lashes. She was somewhat surprised that he had mentioned it to them, given his dad hadn't had a clue.

"How's it going?"

"Okay," Hermione replied softly. Her words were deliberately vague, but only because she had nothing concrete she could say. It was going both exceptionally well and exceptionally badly, all at the same time. Cedric was pressed up against her for the second time in under an hour. His proximity was chasing a current through her right arm, but she only had half a page of the article to show for her efforts.

Swings and roundabouts.

"I'd say it was going better than okay," Terry interjected bitterly. "I wish my interview had come with lunch at Soya. Didn't even get a hint of a sandwich."

"Oh well, erm…." Hermione began, but Eddie cut off by pushing his plate away and knocking Terry on the shoulder.

"Maybe they've got more budget now?"

"Maybe they've always had it," Cassius said, not taking his eyes off Hermione. She fidgeted under his gaze. "They just didn't want to spend it on you."

"Oi fuck off, I was fundamental to the team last year."

"More than we can say for you now," Cedric said good-naturedly which was followed by more bantering back and forth.

At first, Hermione baulked at the aggressive teasing - often followed up with shoves - but once she settled into it, she realised the boys surrounding her were not that much different to her classmates. Though the table manners were undoubtedly better, Terry had even moved his roulade out of the way before he punched Eddie in the arm.

Once she finished her tea, Hermione found it easier to contribute to proceedings now and again, and it would appear that Cedric had been correct, none of them were anything but pleasant. Some more than others, but no one was outright rude.

After a while, talk turned to their training session tomorrow, and through force of habit, Hermione zoned out as she munched on a couple of breadsticks that Cedric had pushed her way.

There weren't many people left in the cafeteria at that time, though Blaises' little gang were still there. Hermione's eyes bounced over him quickly, and unfortunately, her gaze landed directly on Draco Malfoy, which was just her luck. Though it was a wonder Hermione recognised him after such a fleeting look.

Draco was pale… no… more than that, his skin was almost sallow under the artificial lights and as well as heavy bags under his eyes she could see faint bruising on the side of his cheek. She had never seen him look so bad. The Draco Malfoy she knew was never in public with so much as a single hair out of place.

If Blaise was relaxed elegance, Draco was the uptight version. He was a meticulous dresser who took ironing his uniform to the nth degree. Or rather, he instructed his housekeeper to, Draco didn't do those kinds of things for himself.

"Do you know what happened to Malfoy?" she asked Cedric, and in her distraction, she didn't notice that the conversation around them faltered.

"Hmmm," Cedric muttered in response, staring very intently at the paltry remains of his salad.

"He looks like he's been kicked down a flight of stairs," Hermione observed staring at Cedric's profile. His jaw ticked but otherwise he made no move to answer her.

Cassius stifled a laugh, and Hermione's head snapped towards him.

"He had a... tough training session yesterday," he explained with raised eyebrows as if Hermione should instantly know what that meant.

"Yesterday?"

"Yep," Cassius said, pushing some curls off his brow. "The cross teams session got moved to the weekend because of exams. We couldn't fit it in the school week."

"Oh," Hermione replied with a nod. She hadn't remembered Ron or Harry mentioning anything but then, why would they?

Under Cedric's leadership, the first team made a point of getting all the players from all years and teams together once a month. Draco was on the reserve team with Harry and Ron. None of them were happy about it.

"What happened?" she pressed. Cedric continued to worry a limp bit of lettuce with his fork, but his cheeks darkened.

"Cedric?" she said, more insistently this time, and he finally looked at her. His face looked different, Hermione thought. He appeared discomforted. She had seen enough of that expression before to recognise it, but his eyes were harder. This wasn't embarrassment. It was almost defiant, as if he was daring her to challenge him.

The intense look they shared seemed to last a moment too long, and then there was a commotion further down the table.

"Pay up," Cassius insisted, nudging Adrian in the ribs while he stared at the by-play between Hermione and Cedric and grinned. The sterner looking boy did not seem impressed in the slightest.

"Fucks sake Warrington, don't even know why you play football, you should go to Vegas instead. Try your luck counting cards or maybe you could give me Wednesday's lotto numbers?"

Cassius laughed and then Adrian passed him a tenner. "It's always a girl," he murmured to Adrian, but it was just loud enough for Hermione to hear him. She wasn't sure if that had been deliberate.

"What did you do?" Hermione intoned. She was so flush she felt almost breathless, but the attention was off them now (Terry had wagered he could fit eight mini sausage rolls in his mouth), and she was determined to get an answer.

"I didn't do anything," Cedric replied petulantly, and Hermione narrowed her eyes until he sighed.

"Flint turned up to training," he said eventually, dropping his voice till he was sure only Hermione would be able to hear him. "He's back home from Bootcamp, and he wanted to drop in on the session to see how things were going. More like seeing how I'm fucking up his legacy, but in any case, he was there."

"Okay," Hermione said, drawing out the word, and filing away Cedric's bitterness towards Flint to consider later. "But I don't see-"

"I volunteered Malfoy to guard him," Cedric admitted as if he was spitting the words out.

Hermione remembered Marcus Flint. He wasn't an easy person to forget. He'd left the school a year before and had been a highly unpopular captain for two years. Anyone that challenged his methods was told that Flint got results, but his methods were the polar opposite of Cedric's. Fred had once come back from what was supposed to be a friendly match with teeth marks on his upper arm during Flint's reign. The crescent-shaped patterns had bruised terribly, and he'd worn the reminder of being paired with the hard-headed player for well over a week.

Hermione glanced back over at Draco. His lips were pursed, indicating his displeasure. She could only imagine how pissed off he had been.

"For what reason?" Hermione asked. Cedric's hands tensed on his legs and Hermione blinked.

"You know why," Cedric breathed out while looking at the floor, and Hermione stilled. She felt a chill run up her spine as clearly as a hand, and her tongue felt too large in her mouth. He hadn't exactly been subtle, Hermione supposed, and yet his words still shocked her.

Cedric was a physical person, he'd gotten close to her more than once. But as much as Hermione had felt the truth in his expressions, it wasn't a language she easily interpreted and it was one she trusted even less since she had been burnt before.

Words though, she understood words and precise actions - like sitting her with his friends and feeling like he had to defend her honour.

Part of her wanted to be mad at Cedric. She was very capable of fighting her own battles. But he was just so bloody noble. She imagined he couldn't have stopped himself if he tried.

"Thank you," Hermione offered eventually, in words as soft as his had been. Neither of them said anything else until the boys around them started packing their stuff up and heading out.

"Where you off to now?" Cedric asked as Eddie made a motion towards him.

"Library," Hermione replied absently, insanely grateful to have some time to decompress and work out what the hell was going on in her head. "I've got a free period."

"Alright for some," Cedric said, and he got to his feet. "So, I suppose I'll… I'll see you around?"

Hermione drummed her fingers on the side of the table and wet her lips. "I erm… I could come to training tomorrow. Once I've finished with the paper meeting?"

Cedric's brow furrowed as he bussed his tray. "I thought you didn't have any more questions."

He wasn't looking at her; he was too focused on a stubborn wrapper that wouldn't release into the bin. Maybe the lack of eye contact made her feel brave, or perhaps it was Cedric himself. Either way, Hermione thought she might have been ready to take a leap, even if it was a small one.

"I… not for the article," Hermione clarified with a crack in her voice as she scrunched her fingers. "Just… to come and watch."

Cedric dropped the tray down on top of the pile with a clatter and shouldered his bag as a grin slowly drifted across his face.

"Yeah, I… I would... that would be good," Cedric said. "If you wait till I'm finished I'll take you home after, okay?"

"Okay," Hermione agreed, already edging towards the other exit. "I'll see you then."

"See you then, Hermione," Cedric replied and then turned around and jogged to catch up with his friends.

A/N: Hello, lovelies! I hope you are all well, sorry for the delay with this one but what a year this month has been! Stay safe x