Chapter 4: Give Thy Thoughts No Tongue

Flashback, Night of the Quidditch World Cup

"Oh, thank Merlin himself," Siobhan Diggory exclaimed with teary eyes.

Her husband and her son trudged up the stone pathway with ashen faces; their mouths twisted in an uncharacteristic display of worry as Amos adjusted the straps of the rucksack on his shoulders. "Oh, Bon- Bon dear, don't cry!" he cooed as he wrapped his wife in a tight hug, not caring about the heavy weight pulling on his lower back. "We're perfectly fine, right Ced? We got out, just in time."

Siobhan pulled her son forward and into a tight embrace, her hands roaming over his face and shoulders as she checked him for injuries. "Cedric, my love? Are you okay?" she asked worriedly. "You look paler than a ghost! Oh darling, you're in desperate need of a strong cuppa. Yes, some tea and biscuits will fix you right up, bring a little color to those cheeks!"

Cedric gave her a weary smile and nodded. "I'm alright," he assured. "Just a bit tired, is all. And a little nervous for the Weasleys- I hope they got out of there."

"I'll floo over there now, just to check in," Amos declared, already heading over to the fireplace and filling his hand with green powder. Siobhan's face morphed into one of concern, and she clasped her hands together as she followed after him.

"Oh Amos, can't this wait 'till tomorrow? Sweetheart, won't you just sit for some tea and-!"

"I need to check on Arthur and the kids, Bon-Bon. Need to ask Molly if she knows what's gone on. I'll be back soon, my love, I promise!" he said determinedly. With a quick toss and a close of his eyes, he was gone.

Clara practically tripped down the stairs into the front room, her eyes red-rimmed as she held a piece of parchment in her hands, shaking in fear. "Cedric!" she breathed out with relief, running over to him as fast as her feet would allow.

Turbulent grey eyes met a matching pair, and she launched himself into his arms. "Oh my gods, what happened?! Are you okay? Is everyone else okay?!"

Cedric closed his eyes as he took comfort in his little sister's tight squeeze, allowing it to ground him as his mind stayed scattered in a million different directions. "I… really don't know, honestly. Dad and I were packing up camp, and all of the sudden it was as if war had broken out on the grounds. But…I'm alright. Dad's gone to check in on the Weasleys."

"Do… do you think it was…"

"I dunno," Cedric sighed tiredly. "Everything was so chaotic… everyone was screaming, running in opposite directions… we practically flew out of there like a pair of bats out of Salazar's tomb."

Clara looked at him, shaking her head in disbelief as she allowed her breathing level out. After hearing about the devastating news on the WWN, she had been an absolute mess for hours, awaiting the arrival of her father and brother as she paced around her bedroom. She couldn't bear to be in the presence of the high-running emotions of her mother, feeling them just as much as she felt her own.

Even the presence of Hannah's owl, Wobbles, couldn't comfort her as he flew in through her window with an urgent check-in message from her best friend.

"That must have been terrible, Ced, I'm… I'm so sorry, I wish I knew what to say. I'm…I'm so glad you're alright," she said truthfully. He ran a hand through his hair, his face looking worn as he nodded. "I am, too. I… I hope everyone is. I just can't believe it…"

"What can I do? Do you need anything?" Clara insisted, her hands still grasping at her brother's arms as she dragged him over to the kitchen table. "Tea? Biscuits? Something else?"

"Just water. Please."

She poured him a glass, her hands still shaking with nerves as she pushed it over to him. Cedric drank it greedily, dehydrated after sprinting to the portkey as fast as he could.

Later that night, as both Diggory siblings sat at the top of the stairs and eavesdropped on their parents' conversation down in the sitting room, Clara's eyes widened as she picked up on words like "Death Eaters" and "fire" and "explosion." She felt shock flooding her senses as she listened to their hushed voices, the realization that her brother and father just escaped what could have been a much more tragic situation if they had been any slower.

If they hadn't been lucky.

Looking up at his sister, Cedric's eyebrows furrowed and he bumped her shoulder to catch her attention. Her eyes flickered up to meet his, her expression carefully blank as he frowned. "Are you alright?" he asked her quietly.

"I… I don't know," Clara whispered. "I'm so relieved you're safe. I… I was so scared, Cedric. I suppose… I suppose I was just anticipating the worst, and I couldn't help but think… what if…what if- "

"Don't," her brother interrupted, taking a deep breath. "I'm okay, Clara. Don't think about anything like that; I'm safe and sound. We…we should just try to put the night behind us, okay?"

She swallowed thickly. "You're my brother, Ced. I can't help it. I… I don't know what I would do- "

Reaching for her hand, he tugged at her fingers and gave them a reassuring squeeze. "I'm here, okay? I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

As she allowed herself to be wrapped in the warm, comforting safety of her brother's emotions, Clara did as best as she could to suppress the nagging feeling tugging at the back of her skull.

The feeling that things were not going to be alright, that tonight's events were not a random act of violence, but the beginning of something much, much worse.

Present Day

Clara felt like she was going to throw up.

The minute Dumbledore sat back down in his large, ornate chair with the rest of the Hogwarts professors, she felt her stomach flip and her heart sink as she watched Cedric's eyes light up.

Extremely dangerous, he said, Clara thought to herself. High death toll for the past few tournaments. Difficult and dangerous.

She didn't need to be a Legilimens to know what her brother was thinking. His posture straightened as he listened to their headmaster, his eyes searching and curious as his mouth tilted up at the corners in excitement.

Cedric had always loved a challenge.

Despite the eager lilt to his body language and the distinct, eager sparkle in his smile, she found herself searching his mind without even really trying. Cedric's thoughts and feelings were some of the clearest Clara had ever come across, a feat that was impressive in itself since she could barely concentrate and put enough effort to listen to anyone's at all. Cedric's mind was the first she had ever understood, and now she could read him just as easily as she could read a book.

If there was one thing Clara hated about her skill more than anything, it was that when she could actually decipher what she was feeling as she gained entry into the emotions and occasionally, the passing thoughts of the people around her, it was like opening a door and finding yourself in a labyrinth of passages and secret chambers. She had no direction, no idea where to go, and poking around always made her afraid she wouldn't be able to leave. People's thoughts were rarely a linear stream of thinking, and they passed too quickly for her to absorb, even as a natural-born.

But when it came to Cedric, his mind was like Hogsmeade- a little village filled with familiar cottages and shops. There were still closed doors and long, winding streets, but she felt warm and invited; she knew everything around her and where she was going. She didn't feel scared, like she was about to plunge into the dark, cold ocean without knowing how to swim. In fact, sometimes she wished she could just soak in her brother's thoughts for a while, feeling as safe and secure as a child in a warm blanket when she roamed around his feelings. He didn't have a negative bone in his body, not a single mean or cruel emotion anywhere in that awfully large head of his.

So as Clara sat with her hands in her lap as she tuned everything out and slipped into the calming, low thrum of Cedric's emotions, she felt his optimism and the low-level grade of nervousness she often acquainted with how he felt before a big Quidditch game. He was yearning for the opportunity; the hopeful expectation of winning had sewn itself into his decision, into his self-confidence.

He was preparing.

He wanted in.

The rest of dinner went by quietly, her throat feeling slightly too- tight for comfort. It was like she had a vice wrapped around her neck, anxiety clawing at her chest as she watched Cedric exchange glances with some of his Quidditch friends in excited anticipation.

"Ced," she said, her eyes flickering to meet a matching pair as they walked out of the Great Hall. "Can I talk to you?"

With a furrowed brow, he nodded and followed after her as she ducked right out of the line of vision from the hallway. Turning around a shadowy corner, she hugged herself tightly as she looked at her brother's face. His expression settled into something grave as he searched her face. "What's wrong?"

Clara cleared her throat of the emotional lump that sat there, stuck in the back of her mouth as if it was trying to prevent her from speaking. "You know what I'm going to say," she wavered. He huffed in confusion. "I'm not you, Clara. I don't know what's on your mind the way you know what's on mine."

"The Triwizard Competition," she breathed out.

"Yes? What about it?"

With a deep breath, she steadied herself as she looked at him. "Please… please don't do it. Don't put your name in."

His face fell in realization, and his mouth flattened into a straight line. "Clara…"

"I know, okay?" she whispered vehemently. "I know its selfish of me to ask you not to. But… but it's dangerous, Cedric."

Cedric met her gaze with a patient smile, nodding his head. "I know," he told her. "I know what Dumbledore said, but… but I want to do it. I want to, and… and I'm going to put my name in the goblet."

No, she thought to herself. No, just stay out of it. Stay safe.

Clara's face spasmed in anguish, in desperation. "Are you kidding me? Why?"

"Because it's a chance to prove myself."

With a lost expression, she threw her hands up in exasperation next to her. "Are you…what are you saying? Explain this to me, Ced. Why are you willing to…to take such a big risk?"

Something sad passed over his face, but he still looked at her with a small grin. His dark hair waves seemed to glisten in the embers of the torch light, and his stormy eyes squinted as he looked at his sister. "Listen to me," he said gently. "I… I'm not like you, Clara. I'm not… I'm not special like you, I'm not…passionate about things like you are, I wasn't born with any cool talents, I don't... I'm good at academics, and I'm good at Quidditch… but I suppose I don't really have much else, do I?"

Clara looked around her warily, hoping no one heard his words. How could he think he wasn't special? Didn't he know how much people loved him, how many people wanted to be him? "Cedric, you are special. You're the most amazing and wonderful person I know, you're good at everything…don't you know that? Don't you understand how much you mean to all of us, to Mum and Dad and me and Cho and your team… you are so, so special to all of us. You don't need a competition to prove that to anyone."

"Then let me prove that to myself. I… let me believe I'm special. Let me have this," he said quietly, his expression glimmering with hope.

"He said people died, Cedric. Do you understand what that means? If… if people have literally lost their lives over this bloody competition, what if… what if…?"

He grasped her by the shoulders, his eyes lowered into hers as he exhaled noticeably. "I… I'm not saying this because I'm taking any of this lightly, okay? But… but this is my chance to show everyone what I'm made of. That I've made of the stronger stuff. I'm not just some soft, weak little Hufflepuff... I think…maybe there's a chance I could really win, Clara. Wouldn't that be amazing? If… If I won something like this?"

Clara shrugged him off, ignoring the hurt that flared up in his eyes at her action. "I don't need amazing, Cedric. I… I need you not to be hurt, I need you to be safe. You're the only brother I've got, Cedric. After the World Cup… I was so scared, I… I don't know how to be alright with this. That you're willingly putting yourself in a situation that's nothing less than dangerous…what if you get hurt? Or worse?"

"I'm not asking you to be "alright" with my decision, okay? I'd never force you to be okay with something you don't agree with. But I'm almost a real adult, now. My graduation ceremony is at the end of next year, and… I want to do something important while I'm still here. Something that shows I was here, that people can remember about me, if nothing else," Cedric replied softly, his eyebrows raising in a silent plea.

"That is… terribly Gryffindor of you."

"Well, you know where the Sorting Hat almost put me. Maybe… maybe I can prove to everyone that other houses don't have the claim on bravery, on wits and tenacity. I'm a Hufflepuff, but it doesn't mean I'm not brave, too."

Clara took a deep breath, her arms still wrapped around her tightly as if she was trying to hold herself up. She never wanted any less for her brother than for him to have everything he wanted, everything he could ever ask for. But this? He was asking for the world, and she didn't know how to give that to him without giving up a little part of herself, too.

Please, his voice rang out in her head. Please have my back. You're my sister. I love you. I need you, I need you to allow me to want this.

Faltering with her words, Clara played with a long lock of her hair, examining the ends of it with her fingertips as she looked away from him. "Clara," he said seriously. "They haven't even pulled the names out. I haven't even put my name in, yet. I mean… there's no way to guarantee it'll be me, it could be any other sixth or seventh- year. The chances are so low for me, anyway… don't you think you could be here for me, on this? I… I probably won't even get selected."

His voice was somber and a little sad as he spoke, and she searched his eyes once again only to be met with the same promising expression he wore before. Cedric was being truthful, she knew that he too realized that the odds were stacked against him in terms of having his name picked from the goblet for the tournament. Surely, Clara could have his back in this decision since there was such a small chance of him getting chosen.

Couldn't she?

"I can't bear the thought of something happening to you. Of you putting yourself in harm's way," she told him honestly. The thought of her brother taking such a big chance on something that was so miniscule in the grand scheme of things made her eyes prickle.

"Well, if you love me, you'll support me, Clara," Cedric whispered gently. He didn't say anything else, and she closed her eyes at the earnestness in his voice.

Her brother would support her if their positions were swapped, she didn't doubt that for a minute. He had held her hand through what were some of her most nerve-wracking moments. When had she ever been given the opportunity to do the same?

With a deep-winded exhale, her shoulders slackened and she shook her head.

"Then… " Clara sighed exhaustedly. "…I suppose I'll have to, won't I?"

Her voice was filled with reluctance and resignation, but a forced smile pushed at her lips as Cedric's face filled with gratitude. He extended a palm out towards his little sister, pulling her by the shoulder as he wrapped her in a tight hug. "Let's just worry about if it happens, alright?" he told her. "Nothing's been decided yet. We'll take it step by step."

With a rough hand, he rubbed at the top of her skull, making a mess of her hair in a way he only ever did when they were small since he knew it would irritate her. She lightly slapped his hands away, laughing lightly as his face lit up. "Love you, Clara," he said with a smile.

"Love you too, you prat."

They parted and with a nod, they left to head back to the Hufflepuff dormitories, the tension filling the air disappearing as she turned on her heel. Cedric flashed her a smile, a silent way of communicating, "See? Was that so hard? You won't regret it, Clara. I promise you."

She could only hope that she wouldn't.

Her thoughts came to a crashing halt as she nearly collided with two figured clad in their dark black robes, and Clara's eyes zeroed in on two sets of green ties. "Oh, sorry," Cedric told them sincerely.

Clara's eyes met a pair of ice-cold grey ones, a pair of eyes such an unfamiliar pale shade of grey, they almost looked silver.

The eyes of one Draco Malfoy.

And by the looks of it, Theodore Nott was tagging along as well.

Despite the run-in she had with him yesterday when he was hanging out with his gang of hooligans, she hadn't been physically close enough to the boy to get a clear look at him. Draco's white blonde hair had grown over the holiday, and it was obvious he had also shot up a few inches in height.

They stared at each other, exchanging intense gazes as Clara felt her cheeks flood with warmth in embarrassment. Draco's eyes quickly averted to Cedric.

"No worries yeah?" Theodore told them, his normally small grin settling into something wolfish, a smile that looked knowing and confident than the slight upturn of his mouth she had seen him exchange with his friends in DADA class in years past. "You have a nice night, too."

Cedric smiled at him, and even if it was indiscernible to the Slytherin boys in front of her, she could see his tense shoulders relaxing at the lack of confrontation. It was no secret that Malfoy and the rest of his house had a vehement hatred for anyone who belonged to any of the other three Hogwarts houses, but this interaction lacked the anger and vexation she was used to seeing. Inwardly, she felt a bit relieved, too.

Her brother may have had a Gryffindor attitude when it came to competing, but he was very much a Hufflepuff when it came to interpersonal conflict. If Theodore and Draco had tried to spark up a fight, it would literally be the equivalent of two cats intending to spar with a pair of mice.

With one last nod of acknowledgement, the Slytherins walked in the direction of their dormitories and she followed after Cedric.

Once she got into her bedroom, she looked up at Hannah, who was sprawled out on top of her duvet with a picture in her hands. Her feet were crossed up in the air as she let out a sigh, and she dramatically turned over on her back as she watched Clara head over to her bed.

"Where'd you go? I literally thought you apparated, I looked for you everywhere" Hannah said, propping up her face with her hands as she looked at her friend with curiosity. Clara shrugged and waved a hand at her. "Sorry…it's not even worth getting into, right now. Just Diggory stuff."

"Oooh, Diggory stuff," she said with an eager smile, sitting up slightly. "Is this about Cho Chang?"

Clara looked up at her with furrowed eyebrows. Cho Chang? What did Cedric's non-official girlfriend have to do with anything? "…No? Why? What happened with Cho?"

"Nothing," Hannah said a little too quickly. "I just assumed…never mind. Sorry, what were you saying?"

"Wait, what? Why did you say her name?"

"Just forget I even said it. How's Cedric, is everything okay?"

Clara gave her a suspicious glance but nodded her head anyway. "Yeah, everything's fine. It was no big deal, just a…family conference, of sorts," she admitted half-truthfully. This seemed to satisfy Hannah, who merely nodded and gazed adoringly back at the picture in her hands. The blonde's finger traced over the picture fondly, and her usual loose, goofy smile was bright and longing. With a roll of her eyes, Clara shook her head at her friend.

"Oh, Merlin," Clara said jokingly. "We've reverted back to looking at "The Neville Picture," have we?"

"The Neville Picture" had become something of a legend in the Hufflepuff girl's dormitories, or at least among their group of friends. In Hannah's hands was a photo Collin Creevey had taken of a Clara, Hannah, Neville, and some other members of the Herbology Club when they were repotting plants with Professor Sprout in the greenhouse last year. They had all started the club together, an organization that wound up becoming less about plants and instead, served as a convenient excuse for Hannah to stare at the Gryffindor boy and for Clara to harass Professor Sprout for fun stories from her youth.

Clara remembered secretly wondering why Collin had even been there in the first place. After he took several rounds of pictures of her, and only her, posing with two bubotubers in her dirt-covered, tan gardening cloak, she began to think it was possible that the younger boy was not there to take pictures of the entire Herbology Club. But nonetheless, she dismissed her thoughts and before he left, asked him to take a group photo of all of them.

Somehow, Hannah had managed to sneak it away from her a few months ago last term, and Clara had yet to retrieve it back.

Hannah's face turned bright red, and she slammed the picture to her chest theatrically. "It's not just a picture of Neville, Clara. It's of all of us. Maybe I am merely reminiscing on the good times we've had together!" She flipped her long blonde hair confidently, her eyes not leaving the photo in her hands.

"Then why have you folded the picture so that everyone but you and Neville are out of frame?"

"…Maybe I'm admiring my own good looks."

"Yeah, I'm sure you're looking at someone's good looks."

Clara laughed as a pillow sailed across the room and hit her square in the face.

"Oh, you must be kidding me."

It was Monday afternoon, and as both girls walked into the Herbology classroom, they stared in shock at the sight of their new peers. Instead of seeing purple or red the way Clara and Hannah had in the previous years in their favorite course subject, it was a sea of green ties and smirking faces.

Slytherins.

And much to their dismay, it wasn't just one or two from the House of Snakes, but twelve students in total took up half of the available seats around the room as petrified Hufflepuffs stuck to the back of the class.

Hannah's face turned white with mortification as Clara took a long, deep breath and nodded to herself. They had shown up fifteen minutes before the start of class as per usual, hoping to reunite with some of their other friends from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw the way their classes had been combined the last three years. Fourth- year was already turning into a disaster; that stupid Triwizard competition was the first bad omen, and now this?

"It's not that bad," Clara assured the blonde weakly. "It could be worse. I mean… we could have been the only Hufflepuffs in here. That'd be a bit terrible, wouldn't it?"

With an audible gulp, Hannah whipped around to meet her eyes. "It's a fifty-fifty split," she whispered. "A fifty-fifty split, Clara! That's too many of them!"

"It's a… a good, equal distribution, I think…? Maybe this is a good way to…meet some new people we wouldn't otherwise talk to."

"Oh Merlin," Hannah moaned. "This is my safe space! Slytherins are not meant to be in my safe space, Clara Diggory. I come to Herbology to…to decompress… to learn about how to water succulents and rotate soil, not to be… harassed or insulted!"

Clara squeezed her eyes shut and walked towards an empty black table, pulling out a chair for her nervous friend as she collapsed into her own exhaustedly. "They haven't even done anything yet, Hanns. We've been in this room for thirty seconds and… and you're already assuming the worst. Let's be optimistic! We've got each other, don't we?" she told her, slightly chastising as she watched Hannah's angry red cheeks dim into something slightly more ashamed.

"You know, intellectually, I know you're right," Hannah replied with a huff. "But emotionally, I'm ready to start rocking in the fetal position."

With a long sigh, Clara bit her lip and shrugged, putting a comforting hand on the other girl's shoulder. "We'll stick by one another for every assignment. We'll be each other's partners, and we can do the term project as a team so we can just try to get through the year, alright?"

"…I guess."

Suddenly, she felt a tug on her hair and Clara's head jerked backwards. "Hey!" she scowled, her jaw falling open in annoyance as she patted frantically at her long locks. Whipping around in her chair, she saw Ernie and Justin snickering behind them with proud grins. "What? We were just saying hello," Ernie said innocently.

Clara narrowed her eyes at them, and Ernie merely grinned as he propped up his arms on his desk and rested his chin in his palms. "So," he asked lightly. "Aren't you excited for our new classmates?"

"I'm about as excited as a criminal awaiting arraignment," Hannah said miserably, her face contorted into frustration. "An example I'm sure many of them can relate to, surely," Justin replied with a chuckle. Ernie gave his friend an elbow to his ribs as he laughed.

Frowning, Clara put a hand on the blonde girl's knee in an attempt to quiet her. "Hanns, this classroom is not that big. You might want to wait to voice your concerns until a little later, yeah?" she suggested. It wasn't that she disagreed with her friend's feelings, she too felt apprehensive about the tension already forming between the two houses within minutes of their first class. "We can talk after."

"Well, all I know is that I'd rather eat a million Flobberworms than work with one of 'em," Ernie said as he crossed his arms across his chest, boldly staring at the back of a Slytherin student's head as he scrunched his nose. "After all the shite they've been saying about our house for the last few years, the last thing I'm going to do is help one of those snakes get a good Herbology grade. Let's see how high an' mighty they want to act when they're begging for our help."

Justin nodded in agreement. "Maybe we should show them that not all Hufflepuffs are a bunch of daft little softies."

"Definitely."

A girl with a green tie and a blunt, black bob turned around in her seat and snarled at Ernie. Clara knew her name distantly…her name was a flower, Daisy, Rosie? "Like we want to work with the likes of you, you little trolls," she sneered at the boys, who quickly turned red and looked away from her. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

Justin and Ernie slumped in their seats, embarrassed and clearly unwilling to say anything else as they avert their eyes. Clara looked over at the girl and realized she was sitting between Theodore Nott and Draco Malfoy, and immediately felt her eyes widen.

"Rude," Hannah said under her breath, sending what was probably intended as a discreet dirty look over at the black-haired girl. "We don't want to work with you, either."

Clara could feel the low-brimming rage coming from the Slytherin girl before she saw her. The girl met Hanah's glare with a vicious expression and spun in her seat, her eyes narrowed into slits as she stared back. Theodore Nott, merely watching the scene in front of him boredly, made a weak attempt to get her to dismiss the matter with a loose grasp on her shoulder, but she quickly shrugged him off his hand as she stared at the blonde with a look so dark, it would have probably incited fear in You-Know-Who, himself.

Clara glanced at Hannah, who sat in near- paralysis as she swallowed audibly and her face blanched. Both girls eyed the Slytherin and the sharpness in her smirk as she stared at them, her perfectly manicured nails tapping against her desk and forcing the blonde to emit an embarrassing squeak as a pair of baby-blue eyes meet a pair of cold, dark ones. All Clara could feel was waves of fear and barely- concealed hatred entwined in the air around her like tightly sewn thread.

With a loud creaking of the heavy wooden door, Professor Sprout, a small, round woman with short grey hair and a flare for patch-covered clothing, waddled into the classroom with a smile. Clara immediately sighed with relief and looked at Hannah, a grin rising to her face as she turned to face the front of the class. The sight of their Head of House was the only reassurance in such an uncomfortable environment, and she couldn't help but feel grateful that her professor showed up with impeccable timing. "Hello everyone!" Professor Sprout exclaimed as she shuffled in front of her students, clasping her hands together excitedly.

"I hope you've all enjoyed your holiday, and I hope you've all come back to Hogwarts well-rested and ready for your fourth-year. As many of you can see, we are in for a very…interesting term ahead of us, and I'm hoping that for the time being, we can put aside our house differences in order to make this year enjoyable for all of us," she said optimistically. From the back of her head, she heard Draco's distinct mumble ringing out among the silence. "Bloody likely," he sneered.

Professor Sprout either failed to hear him, or dismissed his comment entirely, because she proceeded without so much as a waver in her smile as she addressed the class. "While the curriculum of Herbology has not changed since I've become a professor, I've decided to take the liberty to alter the syllabus this year in favor of trying out some new ideas among my fourth-years. As all of you know, Herbology is a mandatory subject for all Hogwarts students. Yet, time and time again… I hear that many students do not feel as though it is an important component of their education," she explained, eyeing the Slytherin students carefully as she spoke. "So that is why I would like to… experiment with you all, and I am asking for your patience and understanding this year as we move forward with some changes to our class."

Clara spared a quick glance over at Hannah, her eyes questioning. Herbology was one of the few subjects she felt like she could truly enjoy, not because she her other classes weren't interesting, but because she felt a connection to the plants she felt with little else. It was also a welcome reprieve from the increasing difficulty of some of her more advanced subjects, like potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Sprout's compassionate and considerate nature was just as gentle as the plants themselves, and she found herself learning just as much from her kindness as she did from the work she was assigned. Much to her disappointment, Hannah shrugged at her, just as confused as she was.

But now, with the ominous "changes" Professor Sprout was making to the class, Clara couldn't help but feel anxious. Most Hufflepuffs liked working in the greenhouse, and she would dare to even say that at least for her, the subject came as naturally to her as the magic flowing through her veins. It was safe to say that these changes to the syllabus were definitely not an accommodation for her house, but she had a pretty good ideaas to why they were being made.

"With that being said," Professor Sprout said cautiously. "I'd like to address the Hippogriff in the room… it is no secret that the house rivalries surpass that of the competition on the Quidditch field. Throughout the last few years, I have watched our institution become increasingly more fractured among the student body, a rather disappointing result caused by the actions of very few."

"Therefore… I'd like to implement a way in which students from different houses will be paired with someone outside of their own house, a person they might not have ever spoken to. I believe that by working together and relying on one another to achieve a common goal with your grades, this may diffuse some of the…tension… among you, at least in part."

The Slytherin students seemed to collectively groan and whine as the Hufflepuffs shrunk in their seats, the very idea of having to work together such a preposterous one that even both houses could agree it was ill-thought. Professor Sprout looked at all of them with dismay, her hands resting on her wide hips disappointedly as her eyebrows furrowed together. "Students," she scorned. "I don't believe I was offering you all a mere suggestion."

The class immediately shut up, an eerie silence falling over the angry and equally uncertain fourth- years.

"Now," Professor Sprout continued. "I have taken a look at our roster for the next term, and I am delighted to inform you all that it seems as though there are just as many Hufflepuffs in our class as Slytherins. A grand total of twenty- four of you, and twelve students from each house. So, moving forward, I have assigned you all into pairings of one Hufflepuff and one Slytherin. I have chosen the pairings very carefully based on the strengths and weaknesses you have demonstrated in our class the past three years, so I expect that none of you will attempt to change your pairings or inquire about switching so you can be among your friends."

Clara could hear Ernie's audible sigh as he slumped in his chair, his foot kicking at the back of her chair annoyingly as she shot him a warning look. She kept her face carefully blank, not wanting her favorite professor to think she was disagreeing with her authority. She avoided Hannah's look of disbelief as best as she could, instead choosing to prop her face up in her hands on the desk.

To anyone else, she might have looked eager. Not excited, not thrilled, but anticipatory- as if what Professor Sprout was administering was something she agreed with, something she thought would be a good idea.

Inwardly, Clara's heart pounded against her rib cage like a drum and her stomach twisted.

"Clara," Hannah whispered, her voice laced with panic. "Clara!"

"I know," Clara whispered back. "I know, but it's going to be okay, alright? I promise."

"I'm going to be sick."

"No you're not, Hanns. Breathe. Calm down, it's okay."

"So if you're all ready to hear who your term partner will be, I suggest you listen up. Now, these partnerships won't begin until later this week since we must still go over syllabus rules and class expectations, but remember- these are not to be changed. And I know you will all be on your best behavior, because if I hear otherwise, your work for the term will immediately be docked a grade and your respective houses will lose points" Professor Sprout cautioned.

Clara fiddled with her fingers on the tabletop, her hands nervously toying with themselves as she tried to inhale and exhale as discreetly as possible in an attempt to calm her nerves.

As Professor Sprout went down the list, she could hear the unconcealed whines of protest and the air once again filled with a palpable tension as she called out pairings without so much as looking up from the parchment in her hands. Clara tried to focus on the sounds of Justin's foot tapping against the ground and Hannah's hand rubbing against the back of her neck anxiously. Closing her eyes, she breathed in and out as she awaited her name to be called out, her lips pressed against each other tightly as she tried to wade out the high-running emotions in the room.

"Mr. Macmillan and Mr. Zabini,"

"Miss Parkinson and Mr. Finch-Fletchley."

"Dear God," Justin moaned out quietly. "I'll see you all in the emergency unit at St. Mungo's, since I'm sure to lose body parts if I so much as utter a word."

Ernie snorted. "You think that's bad? If I cross Zabini, his mother's going to kill me off like she's done to one of her seven husbands! My life is at stake, Justin!"

"Ernie, I'd rather have my life be threatened, if it meant I could save my co-"

"Miss Abbott and Mr. Nott,"

Hannah let out a humiliatingly loud squeak, the sound erupting from her throat just as she tried to smother her mouth with her hands. "Clara," she whispered angrily. "You said things were going to be okay! This… this is not okay!"

But unbeknownst to her, Clara was stunned silent, her eyes facing forward as she swallowed thickly. The realization hit her like a Bludger…she was one of the last two names on the roster to be called. She barely even heard Hannah's uttered grievances as her fingers twitched, her eyes widening despite themselves.

"And last, but not least, Miss Diggory and… Mr. Malfoy. You will be our final pairing."

"Miss Diggory, may I speak to you for a moment?" Professor Sprout said quietly, her hands busying themselves with two potted Fluxweed plants. She didn't look at Clara in the eye, a sure sign that whatever her professor was going to say was obviously bad news. With a confident nudge and a nod, she urged Hannah to go on without her.

Her first Herbology class of the year had ended after what seemed like a century, and she wanted to escape as quickly as possible. Although she'd never admit she was looking, she couldn't help but notice from the corner of her eye how a certain silver-haired blonde had practically stomped out of the class, not even looking behind him as his expensive black shoes pounded against the stone floors.

"Yes, Professor Sprout?" Clara said unsurely, her hands fiddling together just as they had when the stout woman read off her list of pairings. Her grey eyes strayed to the green and purple plant in the clay pots on the table in front of her. Fluxweed was one of her favorite plants; it was the key ingredient in Polyjuice Potion and it served multiple medical and healing purposes. She wondered if her instructor was going to ask for help with it since after all, Clara had been a committed member of Herbology Club since it began.

Professor Sprout followed her gaze, offering her a wide smile and a shake of her head. "Not these, young lady," she said apologetically. "These are for the sixth years. It's a bit advanced for students of your age, although I know you and Neville are dying to get your hands on it."

Clara blushed, grinning shyly as she rocked on her heels. "Oh well, how disappointing," she joked. "I guess I'll have to satisfy myself with Bubotubers once again."

"And you'll be happy to know that since you already know how to handle them, you should get nothing less than an O on that assignment. Which actually brings me to why I've asked you stay after class, Miss Diggory. I'm… I'm quite sure you know what I'm about to say," Professor Sprout replied, her voice taking on a subtle whisper as she watered the two plants on the table.

Her smile faltered, but she schooled her features and shook her head. "I'm afraid I don't, Professor," she admitted honestly. "Is something wrong?"

The woman licked her lips and met the brunette with an earnest gaze. "Well, I hope not," she said lightly. "At least, I hope nothing will be." Clara stared on, just as perplexed if not more so, and tilted her head at her.

"I'm sure you may have some…questions… about your arrangement, Miss Diggory. And I wanted to explain my decision, if you'd allow it," Professor Sprout replied. With a shake of her head, Clara smiled and waved her off with a hand. "Oh Professor, I… it's really okay, I-"

"No, no, I must… because I'm afraid I must make something clear to you, so you're aware of your… options, for lack of a better word," Professor Sprout interrupted. "You see… Miss Diggory, you're aware you're one of my best students, aren't you?"

Clara's eyes blew open wide. "I…wow, really? Am I?" she asked in bewilderment. The other woman merely chuckled to herself, her eyes rolling fondly as she placed her soiled gloves down on the table. "I always seem to forget who I'm talking to, when I speak to my own Hufflepuff students… but fear not, Clara, this is not mere flattery. This is the truth, and it's important that you realize I am very aware of your talent in Herbology… and I consider you one of my prized pupils."

It was a terrifying prospect, really. Clara, like Cedric, wasn't necessarily used to or good at accepting compliments no matter how well- intentioned they were. Whenever someone praised her, it almost felt as though they were talking about someone else- after all, it was gardening, wasn't it? It wasn't as if she was a prized pupil at anything life changing or mountain moving. And it was certainly a lot of pressure, for her to be given such acclaim that she wasn't even aware of how she earned. However, she did feel her heart squeeze at her role model's words.

"Thank you," Clara said quietly. "Truly, that m-means a lot coming from you, really. But… but what does that have to do with-?"

Professor Sprout raised a single finger at her, cutting her off effectively. "Aha… you see, as your Head of House, as the mentor for Herbology club… and as your instructor, of course, I've gotten to know you quite well, Miss Diggory. Not only do you have a real gift for Herbology, but you also have… quite the patient demeanor, I'd say. Something this school, and frankly, the world, is in dire need of."

Clara flushed at the comment, and shyly tucked one of her dark brown locks behind her ear. "Oh," she said, lacking anything else better to say. "Well… It's just how I was raised to be, I suppose. How we were raised to be, Cedric and I."

"And I do not doubt that your parents have done a wonderful job raising you and your brother," Professor Sprout replied kindly. "But in your case specifically, I think it may also be an even greater product of who you are." She tapped at the side of her temple and sent Clara a knowing look, making the girl's eyes widen even more.

"Professor Snape and I do speak, you know," she told her student. "And while I truly do hate to sound like such an opportunist, I think your talent might actually be to the benefit of this situation, if I can be honest with you."

Shuffling her feet nervously, Clara nodded. "I… I don't really see how it'd be much use in Herbology, but I'm open to suggestion." Professor Sprout smiled at her and squinted her eyes slightly, assessing her silently.

"You see, Mr. Malfoy is also an exceptionally high-achieving student like yourself. He's one of Slytherin's most gifted students, and he is filled with immense, unbridled talent in nearly every subject, if you didn't know already."

Clara didn't know that at all, actually.

"However, his…patience…seems to run quite thin with Herbology. And if we're being candid, I do fear that his…reputation would possibly intimidate some of your Hufflepuff peers."

"But…but not me," Clara said questioningly, her sentence trailing off. "What… what is it that you'd like me to do, exactly?"

"I want you to know that I've paired you together with a specific reason. Firstly, I am very curious to see what two young, bright minds can do when they collaborate together… especially two students as different as you and Mr. Malfoy. But more importantly, I'm hoping that with your partnership, he may come to appreciate Herbology a little more, and as someone who knows you well, I know you won't succumb to fear as you work together. I know it may sound like quite a bit of a task," Professor Sprout explained.

A task, indeed, Clara thought to herself. She hardly saw how she'd be qualified to teach someone who didn't have much of an interest in the subject the wonders of plants and dirt, but if her Head of House was confident that she was the one for the job, she wouldn't argue with her.

"I can certainly try my hardest," Clara told her seriously. "I… I don't have any problems with working with Draco, really, I don't."

It was the truth. She was nervous and the idea made her feel a little unwell, but Clara wasn't exactly Harry or Hermione or Ron… she hadn't fallen prey to his bullying in previous years, and while he wasn't exactly the kindest to her, their interactions had run few and far between.

And… and maybe a little part of her thought about her run-in with Crabbe and Goyle outside of the Great Hall the other day, and the way he shut down their teasing comments without so much as a stutter in his words. After all, how terrible a person could he be, if he was willing to embarrass his own friends in favor of her, of all people? Was it possible he wasn't the troublemaking, terrible person he had been described as since their first year together?

"Good!" Professor Sprout exclaimed, clasping her hands together. "That's very good, Clara. I'm hoping your… talent… will allow for a much more dynamic form of communication, a way for you to look beyond who Mr. Malfoy is often thought to be and see him for who he truly is. This is Just what I like to hear. And I presume you realize, if you do have any…issues… know that my partnership policy for this course can be waived, if such a situation calls for it."

"I don't… I don't think that'll be necessary. Or at least, I hope it won't be," Clara responded, trying to swallow past the nervous lump in her throat. "But…I- I do have a question."

"Of course."

"Would you… would you have asked someone like Hannah, or Justin…if it wasn't for…if it wasn't for my…" she said shyly, insecurity bubbling through her words.

The woman sent her a sympathetic look and shook her head. "Regardless of your… heightened empathy, Clara… I'd have chosen you regardless," Professor Sprout disrupted, putting her small, pudgy hand on top of hers. "I think Mr. Malfoy can learn a lot from you as a student and as a person. And in turn, I think you can learn a lot from him, as well…I… I'm very hopeful that this pairing will succeed in this class."

A breath she didn't realize she was holding exhaled through Clara's mouth, and she gave her a tight smile. "Right," she said politely. "Well, that's good to know. And… and if you feel that it'll be a good pairing, I… I trust your decision, Professor."

Professor Sprout gave her another pat on the hand and sent her a grateful smile. "Thank you," she said sweetly. "For being so understanding."

"It's not a problem, Professor Sprout. If… if Draco's even half the student you've described him to be, I… I look forward to working with him. I don't know him very well, but who knows? This…could be a good thing."

With a few more words of gratitude, the Professor sent Clara on her way, and with a polite nod, the dark-haired girl left the classroom feeling like she'd run a marathon.

Dinner conversation at the Hufflepuff table was going to be very interesting tonight.

Very interesting, indeed.

A/N: Please, please consider leaving a review!

Love always,

Fairylight2003