Cedric was absolutely soaked, so wet that when he held his right hand up, water dripped from his glove. It had been a horrendous day, between the arrival of the Dementors at the Quidditch match, the sudden shock of seeing Harry Potter lying crumpled on the ground and Madam Hooch's stubborn resistance to the idea of a rematch. He'd seen the devastated look on the faces of the Gryffindor team's faces and he couldn't blame them – by rights they probably should have won that match, and it was only the intervention of the Dementors that had tipped the balance.

Still, even Oliver Wood, who ate, drank and breathed Quidditch, had been relatively gracious, and they had been informed that Harry Potter had suffered no permanent damage, so Cedric wasn't going to torment himself any longer. He got changed quickly, pulling a heavy sweatshirt on under his robes; he didn't know if it was because of the Dementors or the soaking he'd received, but he still felt a deathly chill.

Well, thankfully his Mum had sent him a large bar of chocolate in the post that morning, and as soon as he found the blasted thing he was going to cram it all into his mouth, whether or not anyone was watching.

He was rummaging through his bag in an attempt to find it when he almost tripped over a girl huddled in the stands. He wasn't sure how he'd managed to miss her, as she was sitting under an immense black umbrella, but chalked it up to his urgent search for chocolate.

She seemed undamaged, but he ducked to make sure – it would be the perfect addition to an already unfortunate day to discover he had broken some poor girl's sternum. Bending down to see under the umbrella brim, Cedric saw the distinctive red hair of the youngest Weasley. Her face was dead white, and she was trembling all over.

"Hey!" he said, "Hey, are you all right?" He had to shout over the howling of the wind, but it seemed he had finally got her attention.

Her head snapped up to look at him, and she said, her lower lip trembling, "Sorry?"

"I just tripped over you there, nearly. I hope I didn't hurt you."

She looked out over the Quidditch pitch absently. "No," she said, "I'm fine."

Cedric was inclined to disagree – someone who was fine did not sit out in the rain when they already cold and unhappy. He sat down beside her, saying, "Budge over for a second, would you?"

She seemed surprised, but moved quickly, offering him the shelter of her umbrella. They sat for a moment, listening to the rain tapping on the thin skin of material before she said, "You played a good game today."

"Oh. Do you like Quidditch?"

A ghost of a smile crossed her face. "I love it."

"Do you have a favourite team?"

She sighed. "No, not really. I mean, I like to watch the Harpies to pick things up but…"

Her voice trailed off, and Cedric nudged her. "What's wrong?" he said.

"I hate Dementors."

Her fists were clenched in her lap, and Cedric suddenly realised the reason behind her pale face and shaking limbs. He hadn't forgotten that she had been taken into the Chamber of Secrets only the year before – Fred and George had supposedly been absolutely devastated, and, for possibly the first time in their lives, silent. No one had been insensitive enough to ask her how or why it had happened, but he had sense enough to guess that it must have been far from pleasant.

She was still shivering, and having finally found the bar of chocolate, he broke it in half and gave the larger piece to her. She took it gratefully and bit deep – as soon as she swallowed he could see it take effect. A flush rose through her skin, her hands stopped shaking, and she sat up straight for the first time.

"Thank you," she said. "You're always so nice."

Cedric snorted, and she looked at him sharply. "What?" she said, "When did that become a bad thing to say? There is nothing wrong with being nice. I'd rather be nice than be…I hate Dementors. Did you see what they did to Harry?"

Cedric winced – it had been a terrible shock to look back, expecting to see his housemates cheering his unexpected victory, only to see his body crumpled on the ground.

Ginny Weasley however was still chattering on about Harry Potter. "…And he hates Dementors even more than I do – I didn't even think that was possible – and now he's stuck up there with Madam Pomfrey, and I think that'd only make him feel more miserable. I mean, who wouldn't?"

He looked at her sideways. "Is that why you were sitting out here, instead of going up to the Hospital Wing?"

She managed a smile. "Yeah. I much prefer getting chocolate from you to be honest. And Percy would only fuss. He's as bad as Mum that way."

Cedric swallowed a laugh – most people in the school, excepting the more obnoxious Slytherins, spoke of the Head Boy with more respect, but obviously that did not include his sister.

She grinned up at him, and said, "A pity you couldn't have doctored him – Hermione says he hates the Hospital Wing."

He swallowed a sigh – clearly she still fancied Potter, although given the fact that the younger boy had actually rescued her from the Chamber and a Basilisk, with only a sword, it was more than understandable.

"Well," he said, "Maybe you could do something to cheer him up."

She hopped up, excited, and said, "Oh…I know just what to do…That's such a good idea. Thank you."

He shook his head, but grinned all the same. He couldn't help but find it cute. Smiling, he asked, "Can I beg a spot under your umbrella?"

"Of course," Ginny said, "Only, you should probably carry it. I'm so small I'd probably poke your eye out."

He laughed, taking the umbrella, and offering her his other arm for the walk across the pitch.