It wasn't that Oriane Morissette wasn't a morning person, it's just that she preferred to get up after the sun was up, and by the time Mrs. Weasley woke the three girls from their slumber, the sun had hardly scratched the horizon. Still, out of the three girls, she was the first to stir after the door to Ginny's room closed shut behind Mrs. Weasley.

She got ready in silence as her groggy eyes scanned the area around her, finally landing on her pack. She pulled out her clothes for the day, a simple pair of jeans along with a plain, pastel yellow shirt. By the time she had finished dressing herself and brushing her hair, Hermione and Ginny had managed to accomplish nothing, as the two of them were still fast asleep in their beds.

Worried they would be late, Oriane took care to gently shake the two girls awake, despite their quiet protesting. Once she was certain they would stay up, Oriane repacked her bag and slung it over her shoulder to join the others downstairs.

A warm bowl of porridge awaited her in the dining room, as did more of Mrs. Weasley's chastising. She wasn't surprised to find that she was once more yelling at her twin sons for whatever wild shenanigan they had decided to pull that time around. Yet, she pretended as if she didn't hear it as she joined the others in eating their breakfast.

From somewhere across the table Mr. Weasley sat, looking over a large sheet of parchment tickets. He was dressed much more oddly than he was the day before. He wore a very old sweater which he paired with pants that were probably three sizes too big for him. To make up for it, he wore a thick leather belt to keep them up.

"Don't worry," Mr. Weasley assured her, catching her gaze, "Amos Diggory's got your ticket."

Oriane, who hadn't been worrying about the location of her ticket at all, couldn't help but smile at the strangely dressed man. Once Ginny and Hermione finally made it out of the room, the two girls were ushered to quickly eat their breakfast before the large group of them were sent on their way.

She quickly began to regret not putting on any sort of sweater the very moment she stepped outside. The moon was still the primary source of light as the sun hardly peeked through the trees around them. It was enough to get her body up and moving, leaving behind any sort of grogginess back at The Burrow.

A majority of the walk was done in silence, save for Harry's questioning of Mr. Weasley. Everyone else was too tired (or in the Twin's case, too upset) to think of any sort of good conversation. Silence fully enveloped them all as they came to a rather large hill. Saving their breath for the walk, the group began to climb, doing their best to avoid slipping on the dark, dewy grass.

Though she considered herself to have been fairly active over the summer, Oriane couldn't help but feel as if that hill would be the death of her. Each breath of cool air felt as if it would be her last. Yet she pushed on, determined to not keep the others behind on her account.

"Well, we've made good time!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed as they finally reached the top of that treacherous hill. "Now, we've got about ten minutes to find that Portkey…"

Portkey; another mode of wizard transportation that Oriane wasn't a big fan of. Too much spinning and nausea inducing imagery for her. However, it was fast and effective. More convenient than a broom yet much safer than apparating, something she couldn't do yet anyway.

"Over here Arthur!" a figure in the distance shouted.

"Amos!" Mr. Weasley beamed as he made his way over to the man.

Excited, the others quickly followed close behind as they marched along. The sun had risen higher into the sky by that point casting the perfect backlight on two, tall figures in front of the group. Yet, as they neared them, Oriane quickly recognized one of the figures to be Cedric Diggory.

He seemed to have grown taller over the summer, yet his appearance otherwise stayed the same. Same dark, chestnut brown hair and cool grey eyes. He sported a mustard yellow jumper with a dark green jacket to ward off the cool air. Even after all that time he had this air of confidence around him, yet that seemed to waver the moment his eyes landed on Oriane.

"This is Amos Diggory everyone!" Mr. Weasley introduced. Mr. Diggory was almost as tall as his son, yet he sported a dark brown beard. Seemed to be getting rather soft around the edges, as well. "He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?"

Cedric looked around at the group around him, offering a very faint and quiet greeting.

"Merlin's beard!" Mr. Diggory exclaimed. "Harry? Harry Potter?"

There it was; the gawking over the Boy Who Lived. Oriane had been fortunate enough that far to have not witnessed such awkward interaction in person, yet Mr. Diggory was the one to break that streak for her. The boy was a legend, after all.

"Ced's talked about you, of course. Told us all about playing against you last year. I told him; Ced! That'll be something to tell your grandchildren! Yes it will! That you beat Harry Potter!" the man cheered.

Cedric, who had been shifting uncomfortably on his feet for the last few seconds, muttered to his father, "Harry fell off his broom, dad. I told you, it was an accident."

"Must be nearly time," Mr. Weasley interrupted quickly. "I reckon we only have a minute or so…"

Nodding, Mr. Diggory held out a mangled old boot, something that looked as if it had been residing in the hill for quite some time. With Mr. Weasley's instruction, everyone began to touch the boot in some way, most opting to use their finger. Oriane found herself squished between Cedric and Ginny as she joined the others in the odd ritual of holding onto the boot.

"It's good to see you, hatstall," Cedric whispered to her.

"You too, Ced," she teased.

Only a second later was the group suddenly swept up into the air. It was a terrible feeling, watching everything woosh around them at speeds faster than she could comprehend. She felt as if she should have been flung off, especially as she only had a single finger on the Portkey. However, the magic of it all forced her to freeze in place. Then, her feet suddenly slammed into the ground below her. Ginny crashed into her shoulder, and she could feel herself fall backwards under her weight.

Embarrassed, Oriane quickly looked around, only to find that just about everyone else had fallen with her. The only three people left standing were Mr. Weasley, Mr. Diggory, and Cedric, though they did appear to be slightly out of breath.

Ginny, who had ended up falling across Oriane's chest, began to apologize profusely as she pushed herself to her feet. Now having more room to breathe, Oriane coughed some as she rubbed a sore spot on her sternum.

"Quite the fall you took there," Cedric chuckled, offering her his hand.

Grinning, Oriane gladly took it, where the boy hoisted her back onto her feet with ease. "You and I both know I've taken worse dives."

Oriane rolled out her shoulders, uncomfortably aware of how roughly her backpack had slammed into her spine during her fall. She looked around the area and was rather surprised to find a deserted stretch of moor around them. If there was anything interesting to look at, it was completely covered in mist.

"Right then," Mr. Weasley spoke up as he pushed forward, "we've got about twenty more minutes of walking to do!"

And so the group trudged onwards, walking blindly into the mist around them. It wasn't at all what Oriane had expected. Shouldn't things have been a bit more lively? Where was the music? Where were the people? She had begun to wonder if the Portkey mistakenly dropped them off in the middle of nowhere.

"Sorry about my father, by the way," Cedric spoke up, picking up the conversation as he whispered to Oriane. "He can be a little much sometimes."

She smiled as her eyes found the man in question walking next to Mr. Weasley. "He seems really proud of you."

"Yeah, I just wish he wouldn't brag about me at someone else's expense," Cedric muttered.

A particularly cold breeze blew through the moor. Oriane crossed her arms, doing her best to hold in as much heat as she could. Even with all the walking they were doing, she couldn't generate enough warmth.

"I can imagine how that would be awkward," Oriane sympathized. As she spoke, her teeth began to chatter. She tried her best to get her jaw to stop spazzing, yet that only caused the rest of her body to shake uncontrollably.

A weight suddenly lifted off of her back, which caused Oriane to turn around in surprise. However, there was no one there, and she quickly realized Cedric was attempting to take her backpack off.

"What are you doing?" she asked, gripping the straps firmly. "I can carry my own bag."

"I'll give it back, just let me see it real quick," Cedric assured her.

Deciding to trust him, Oriane shrugged the straps off of her shoulders, letting the backpack fall into Cedric's hands. Then, awkwardly juggling the pack between his hands, Cedric began to take his own backpack off. Next was his green jacket, which he seemed to struggle getting it off from over his yellow jumper. Once it was fully off, he slung his backpack back over his shoulders and placed his jacket over Oriane's shoulders with his free hand.

"Cedric," Oriane quietly gasped, "it's fine, I promise!"

"You heard what he said, we've got about twenty minutes left and you're shivering. Besides, it's not the first time I've let you borrow a jacket of mine. Put your arms through the sleeves, it'll keep you warmer," he urged, trying to adjust the jacket over her shoulders so it was more secure.

At first Oriane was confused as to what he was talking about. She had never asked to use his jacket before, or anything of his for that matter. Then it came to her. It was right before Christmas break her first semester at Hogwarts after she had overheard the conversation with the Minister. She had run off into the snow without her jacket, and he had run after her with his.

The warmth of his jacket, the way it was too large to fit her properly, his hand on her back…

"Thank you," she said quietly.

Just as he said, she slid her arms through the sleeves (which she had to roll up on the ends in order to free her hands) and did her best to make it fit her small frame. Or, smaller. Oriane liked to think she was rather average height wise. Cedric just happened to be somewhat of a giant.

Once she was fully situated, Cedric finally returned her pack just as he had promised. The rest of their walk was saturated in silence, save for the sound of their footsteps on the ground.

Eventually, as the sun began to rise further into the sky, several rows of tents began to peek through the mist. Oriane wasn't aware of how many tents there were until they grew closer. Endless rows of white canvas tents with chimneys sticking out, among other things. Certainly something one wouldn't find in a regular Muggle campsite.

When they reached the edge of the rows of tents, they began to walk along the edge. Each tent was oddly shaped and held its own quirk. A tent shaped like a pyramid, tents covered completely in shamrocks; yet not a single soul besides them dared to stir.

Mr. Weasley didn't stop the group until they came to three plain tents. Oriane could vaguely make out two signs in front of them, one that read Diggory and another that read Weezley.

"Perfect," Mr. Weasley said, clapping his hands together. "Girls, you'll get the tent on the left, boys, we've got the right. Diggory's… well, we'll leave that to you."

The girls' tent looked rather small from the outside, however the very moment Oriane stepped foot inside she knew an enlargement charm had been placed. From the outside, their tent looked simple and plain, but on the inside it was as if they had a small apartment to themselves. Plush couches and beds lined the living room area and a small kitchen sat in the back. The three girls couldn't help but look at one another, happy to have so much space to themselves.

"Sometimes being in the minority has its perks," Ginny grinned.

The quiet, drowsy campsite quickly turned into a lively get-together by noon, and a full party by dusk. After they had set up their camps, Oriane spent most of her time wandering around with Cedric as they meandered through tents.

Witches and wizards from all over the world traveled to England in order to watch the Cup. Some wore funny hats she had never seen before, others were doing wandless magic. Everyone shared everything with one another; supplies, food, and stories from so many different countries. Oriane had a hard time imagining any of these people could possibly end up fighting with one another over a quidditch game.

Salesmen had begun to apparate all throughout the campsite, many carrying trays or carts of items they used to catch the eyes of anyone passing by. Most of the items were much too expensive for what they were getting (or, she thought so at least), yet they were endearing to look at nonetheless.

"Look!" Oriane exclaimed, pointing at a cart. Several small miniature models of various types of brooms carefully flew around the cart. They had gathered a decent sized crowd, Oriane and Cedric included. "They've got a Firebolt! Think your dad will buy you one?"

Cedric couldn't help but chuckle as she began to laugh at her own joke. "Yeah, I'm sure I'll be able to go pro with that one."

The two began to wander away from the cart, doing their best to keep their money pouches as heavy as possible. Which proved easy for Oriane, as most quidditch stuff didn't interest her nearly as much as it did Cedric. Though, she was extremely tempted to buy the Firebolt model as a joke.

"I have to admit, when we first arrived here I was beginning to wonder if coming here was a mistake. But now that everyone is up and going, this place is amazing," Oriane voiced.

"Crossing that moor had me worried too. Thought the Portkey up and dropped us somewhere else," Cedric agreed. "So, you're saying you don't regret coming along with me?"

"Of course not, Ced," Oriane teased.

Cedric playfully grimaced. "Please, you sound like my mum."

"What? It's a cute nickname," she assured him.

"It makes me feel like a kid."

"Are you not a kid?"

"I'll be seventeen at the end of September."

She didn't know why that fact caught her as off guard as it did, but she almost found it hard to believe. Seventeen was the age where witches and wizards were legally considered adults. Oriane herself still had roughly two more years before she reached that age herself. Thinking about it, realizing that Cedric would graduate Hogwarts much sooner than she would, made her stomach twist.

"I suppose you are getting a bit old," she admitted. "Before you know it, you'll be going off on your own adventures outside of Hogwarts."

"You act like you're going to miss me," Cedric laughed.

"Because I will miss you."

It was enough to get Cedric to stop in his tracks. He turned to look at the girl, who stared back up at him with confusion. Why was he thinking so much into it? Any good friend would miss someone if they left them, and Oriane had been nothing but great to him. So then why did it feel so different? Why was his mouth so dry, full of so much sand he couldn't get a word out? Why did his eyes keep wandering to the jacket on her shoulders?

A booming gong sounded from somewhere behind them. Off on the edge of the campsite was a large stretch of thick trees. However, after the gong rang, brilliant lamps colored green and red began to light a path through the thick forest. Instantly people dropped what they were doing and began to follow the lights.

Cedric cleared his throat.

"We should go find my dad," he excused.

And so the two began to weave through the growing crowd. People were already cheering and shouting songs, or laughing in large bands. Feverish excitement blanketed the entire campsite as everyone made their way to the game. Yet, all Cedric Diggory found himself doing was catching his breath.