Potter rises from the lake, and the judges converge. Diggory ties for the lead, and Krum is left in the dust. In the courtyard, under a sullen elm tree; a confrontation.
"Vat the hell, Cedric?" Viktor accused.
"Not my fault," he rebuts.
"I vill win this."
"We will see, won't we?"
Anger flashed through their eyes, and defiance reigned. After a few hours, they met again, by chance beside the school.
"I'm –"
"Shut up."
Arms, muscled and tense, felt up waists, strong but thin. Jackets and robes cast aside. A longing thrust of passion, and then it was over.