A loud crack of thunder woke Oriane up the next morning. The storm had been raging consistently for the last few days, but that morning seemed to be particularly terrible. Even from underground she could hear the relentless wind whipping outside the window.

Once she sat up in bed, she looked around, peeking at her roommates. They were all still fast asleep, their quiet breathing filling their small room. It must have been early in the morning if even Charlotte was still asleep, yet she didn't think she'd be able to rest any longer.

Carefully, Oriane quietly slipped out of her bed, still wearing her night clothes. Then, she was off to the common room, where the sound of the wind grew impossibly loud. Yet the crackling of the fireplace was a close second in terms of noise. It starved off the cold bitter wind from cooling the room down even a little.

Tending to that fire was Cedric Diggory. He knelt forward on his knees, hands hovering dangerously close to the flame as he watched them dance in front of him. He was already dressed in his daytime clothes, and his hair was dampened from a recent shower.

Oriane approached him slowly, bare feet silent against the rug underneath her. "You're up early."

Cedric nearly fell as he quickly turned around to face Oriane. His hand quickly reached up to rest on his chest, as if he was trying to quell his beating heart. "I need to put a bell on you," he chuckled.

She grinned as she moved to the side, setting herself down in one of the plush armchairs next to the hearth. "Sorry," she said in a slight laugh.

"What are you doing up so early?" he asked as he settled next to the fire once more.

"The thunder woke me up," she admitted as she turned her attention towards the windows. As November drew on, the sun was rising later and later in the morning. She could see the promise of a grey light drawing near, but other than that, the storm was blocking out anything else. "I feel like the weather is worse today than it has been all week."

"Of course it is," Cedric chuckled, "today's the day of the first quidditch game. Quite literally raining on our parade."

With everything that happened yesterday with Snape substituting for Remus, Oriane had completely forgotten about the game. It was all anyone could talk about, and it was the first thing that got students to stop talking about Sirius Black. She had already heard an earful about it from Fred and George, who were complaining to Calista the other day about Draco and Cedric. Draco for still whining about his arm, and Cedric for scaring Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor captain.

"They're still making you play?" Oriane asked, confused. "Can't they reschedule?"

He shook his head for a short moment before turning to look at Oriane. The orange blaze in front of him casted a dark shadow on half of his face, making his features look twice as sharp. The light danced with the curve of his lips.

"They'd never cancel the game over a little rain," he smiled.

As if upset about being called little, thunder rolled throughout the sky outside once more, vibrating the ground all around them. The two looked up, almost as if they were afraid the roof would come crashing in on them.

"Little," Oriane repeated.

"Yeah, I know," he admitted, finally pushing himself up from the floor. He stretched his arms into the air as he stood, a heavy sigh leaving his body as his arms returned to his sides.

"Has a game ever been canceled before?" she wondered as Cedric sat himself in the seat across from her.

He nodded. "Once that I know of. It was last year, actually."

"What happened?"

Cedric thought for a moment, his eyes flickering back to the fire providing them warmth. "Several Muggle-born students were attacked last year. Some said a basilisk was what did it. Petrified a good handful of students. Everyone was fine in the end, but they still canceled the game as a precaution."

Oriane's eyes widened as Cedric finished his explanation. "You're joking," she said, breathless. "Well, I guess that is a good reason to cancel, at least."

"Are you going to watch?" Cedric asked, deciding to change the subject. "I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to go out in this weather but a part of me is worried no one will show up at all."

She began to fiddle with the bracelet on her wrist as more thunder boomed. Sports wasn't exactly something she was interested in. Many people were. They'd root for their favorite teams, and judging by how it was the main topic of conversation for the last week, many students enjoyed it. But she found the thought of it rather boring.

But Cedric looked at her, his grey eyes reflecting the light of the fire, and a small hopeful smile on his lips. She would have hated to crush him.

"Of course. Yeah, I'll come watch."

Charlotte was right. She wished she would have said no. Not only was the rain continuing its never-ending downpour, the wind only added insult to injury. It whipped umbrellas from hands, cloaks nearly ripped off of shoulders, and it only added to the bitter cold. Even walking was difficult.

Yet she trudged along to the pitch, with Emerald and Calista leading the way. The three girls were completely silent as they walked, conserving their energy as much as they could as they fought against the wind.

Once they reached the pitch, they found seats as close to the bottom as they could. No one dared to go much higher, as the wind only grew worse in elevation. The circle-like shape of the stadium helped to starve off the wind some, yet did nothing to protect them from the rain. Oriane had never been so wet in her life.

"I have no idea how we're supposed to see anything," Emerald shouted over the sound of the rain. "I can't even look up without water hitting my eyes."

Calista huddled closer to Emerald, who sat in the middle of the three, trying to keep herself as warm as possible. "I'm sure they'll announce everything for us to hear."

As far as firsts go, Oriane knew that was going to be a terrible first quidditch experience. Yet she tried to stay optimistic as they watched the teams enter the field.

Each team wore their uniforms. Canary yellow for Hufflepuff, and Maroon red for Gryffindor. It was difficult to make out exactly who was who on each team, as they all looked the same through the haze of the rain. But she spotted Harry, his glasses unmistakable, and Cedric, as he was one of the captains shaking hands.

And then they were off, flying so high above everyone else it was nearly impossible to see through the rain. Eventually, Oriane gave up trying to watch and instead stared at her hands, which had begun to turn purple.

"How long do these games usually last?" Oriane asked after some time went by. How much time, she couldn't say. But it felt like she had been sitting on that soaking wet bench for hours.

"Depends," Calista shouted with a shrug. "But it looks like they're trying to get it over as soon as possible. I'm sure they're about as miserable as we are."

"Miserable?" Emerald echoed. "I thought you said you would be happy as long as you were looking at Zacharias Smith."

"Can't really do much looking in this weather, can I?" Calista retorted.

Emerald went to continue their bickering, as they always did, until she suddenly stopped. Everything grew cold, as if the air was freezing in their lungs. A terrible feeling of dread overtook them.

Oriane remembered that feeling all too well. Her cold eyes darted away from her hands, and instead landed on the dementors swirling around the stadium. There was at least a hundred of them. Their hooded heads gazed upwards, where Harry was attempting to catch the snitch, the final ball that needed to be caught to end the game. Cedric was hot on his tail.

Then, Harry began to slow. He was no longer heading up, but instead plummeting towards the pitch.

"Where's his broom?" Emerald asked, green eyes wide as she followed Harry's figure in the sky.

She was right. He was without his broom. And he almost looked graceful in his fall. Maroon enveloped him as his robes flapped around him, and his messy black hair seemed to frame his face in the rain. But it changed nothing. He was still plummeting to the ground, ready to shatter at any moment.

Until a familiar tall, grey figure marched out onto the field. His long grey hair and matching beard were unmistakable, even in the mess of the storm. He raised his wand, and Harry's body slowed just before he hit the ground. The dementors went to swarm on him, but Dumbledore then turned his rage against those creatures. A bright light leapt from his wand, and suddenly, all of the dark, disgusting, cloaked figures fled from the pitch.

A gasp came from Emerald as she shielded her face. "No! No, don't tell me! He's going to be alright, isn't he?"

Calista was quick to shush her as she put her arm around her, pulling her close. "Of course he'll be fine," she assured her, "this is Harry Potter we're talking about, after all."

Several staff members began to flood the field as they took Harry's motionless body off of the pitch. Students around them began to rise from their seats, attempting to get a better view of the commotion going on below.

"We should get out of here," Oriane said softly, pulling Emerald to her feet.

Exiting the stadium proved to be more difficult than getting in. Everyone was rushing out at once, clogging the small walkways that lead to the stairs. Harry was the topic of everyone's conversation, and though Oriane wasn't speaking, he was all she could think about.

Eventually the girls made it out of the stadium, and Emerald and Calista booked it back to the castle, doing their best to fight through the rain. But Oriane's legs couldn't seem to keep up. They felt stiff, like they were suddenly made of lead, and she watched as her two roommates slowly began to disappear behind the sheets of rain pouring down on them.

People began to push past Oriane as she slowly came to a stop. Everything was loud. Too loud. The rain. The thunder. Shouting. It was as if her brain was amplifying the sounds around her on purpose. Her clothes clung to her skin, nearly suffocating her under the weight of it all.

But then she saw a familiar mess of brown hair. It was Cedric. He had torn off his canary yellow uniform and instead was in his underclothes. A simple pair of black pants, and a long sleeved black shirt. The items hugged his body tightly as the rain weighed them down, but he didn't seem to mind as he made a beeline for the castle.

"Cedric!" she called, forcing her legs to move after him.

The boy stopped and turned around, shielding his eyes from the rain with his hand. "You came?" he asked over the deafening sound of the rain.

She was by his side a moment later, walking together as they made their way towards the castle. "I told you I was going to be here, didn't I?"

Harry was still unconscious as Oriane and Cedric entered the medical wing. Several Gryffindor students and quidditch players alike had gathered around his bed, obscuring them from Oriane's vision. However, at the sound of the door opening, all eyes were on her and Cedric, still soaked to the bone from the rain.

"How is he?" Cedric asked.

Hermione, with her eyes red and face wet, looked back at Harry. He was impossibly pale, yet didn't have any sign of a physical injury. "He still hasn't woken up."

"Luckily the ground was soft," a student spoke up. "It was the only good thing this stupid storm brought."

"I thought he was dead for sure."

"He didn't even break his glasses."

They joined the crowd around him, staying close by his bed. Harry wasn't the only one in poor condition, it looked like. Besides Hermione's tears, and the fact everyone was very wet, a few of the team members were caked with mud. Most of them didn't even bother changing out of their uniforms before rushing off to see him.

"That was the scariest thing I've ever seen in my life."

Harry finally began to stir with quiet moans and groans, no doubt sore from the fall he took. Eventually he opened his eyes, blinking at everyone surrounding him.

"Harry!" Fred said. "How're you feeling?"

As if he suddenly realized what happened, Harry shot upright, causing Oriane and a few others to jump. "What happened?"

She was relieved to see he was at least feeling well enough to move. The fall he took was daunting, and she expected at least a few minor injuries. Yet, he seemed his regular, normal self.

"You fell. It must've been what-" Fred paused for a moment, looking at his twin, George. "Fifty feet?"

"But the match," Harry urged, looking around. "What happened? Are we having a replay?"

Everyone fell silent as Harry continued to look around at his teammates. Then, he caught sight of Cedric, who averted his gaze.

"I caught the snitch," he said quietly. "It was just after you fell. With the storm and everything, I hadn't realized what was happening. But then I saw you on the ground and…" He paused, finally looking back up at Harry. "I tried to call it off. I wanted a rematch. But Oliver says we won fair and square. So…"

"Fair?" Ron butted in. "How on earth did he think that was fair?"

Harry looked around, eyes scanning through the faces of everyone near him. "Where is Wood?"

"Still in the showers," Fred mumbled. "We think he's trying to drown himself."

Their conversation only devolved from there. A mix of Harry blaming himself for their loss, and the others attempting to cheer him up despite it. All Oriane could think of was their previous experience with the dementors back on the Hogwarts Express. How poorly Harry had reacted that time as well.

Yet, it didn't make sense. Why would they go after Harry a second time?

Eventually Madam Pomfrey had decided that was enough visitation time for the Gryffindor team. She politely shoed them all away, only allowing Ron and Hermione to stay. Cedric and Oriane followed, the doors shutting close behind them. Cedric was met with somewhat sour looks from the Gryffindor team before they finally meandered away, complaining about the game.

Oriane turned her attention to Cedric, who was focused on watching the others walk away. He didn't move, and so neither did she. She watched as his jaw flexed, yet he still refused to say anything.

"Are you alright?" she asked, adjusting her drying hair.

He finally looked at her, expression blank as he mulled the words over in his mind. "Yeah," he said, stiff, "just… not the best game to start the year off on."

They were quiet for a moment as they stood in the empty hallway. Rain and thunder still persisted outside. It was all their day had been filled with. A terrible storm that no one wanted.

"It's not your fault," Oriane assured him.

"I know," he admitted softly.

"Doesn't make things feel any better though, I guess," she couldn't help but giggle. "But you tried to get a rematch. And you didn't know Harry had even fallen in the first place. But the fact that you tried to make things even speaks volumes, Cedric. Sure, they're a little upset about it now, but let them be. They'll get over it. But I know that when this all blows over, they're going to remember how you tried to fight for fairness. Especially Harry. You did your best and that's all that matters."

Cedric was quiet for a long moment. So long, Oriane had begun to worry that she had crossed some sort of line. But soon enough, a smile crossed his face. A small one, but one nonetheless.

"You're really good at putting things into perspective," he chuckled, running his fingers through his clumpy, wet hair. "Thank you."

She smiled. "That's what friends are for, right?"

Cedric's eyes suddenly lit up, erasing any hint of frustration he had from earlier. That sight alone was enough to put Oriane in a good mood.

"I'm starving," Cedric admitted while gesturing down the hallway. "Would you like to grab lunch with me?"

Just like that, everything seemed better. Despite the rain, despite the dementors, all was well. Harry was alive, and surprisingly uninjured; Cedric was no longer beating himself up about the issue. The only thing that could be better was if her clothes were dry. But for the moment, it was enough for her.

"I'd love to."