This journal entry was found in a Mr. Cedric Diggory's private journal.

It feels amazing to be back at school. I spent the train ride to Hogwarts in the Prefects cabin, catching up with old friends. I honestly don't remember a single event they told me about. I just kept saying that I'd spent the entire summer practicing Quidditch. When asked about the World Cup, I gave them a brief elaboration as to how I escaped. I don't particularly wish to discuss that night. The chaos and screaming is, well, a bit too much for my taste.

When we arrived at Hogwarts, I was immediately filled with a warm sense of familiarity. I absolutely love this school. Everything about it is beautiful and grand. The ancient rugs and tapestries, the extravagent paintings. Even the vases and tables and books are full of unexplained magic. There's so much history overflowing from the stone walls. I've grown up in a world full of strange magic, yet some things never cease to amaze me, nor, I suspect, will they ever.

After the delicious feast, Professor Dumbledore spoke to us. He first listed the usual rules and regulations, and I tuned this portion of the speech out, for I've heard it enough to recite it by heart. What caught my attention was the mention of a special event that is apparently being held this year. Hogwarts is hosting the Triwizard Tournament. I've read about it, and from what I gather, it should make this year even more interesting. We'll be joined by two other schools, one of which I know to be the school of Viktor Crum. I'd very much like to meet him.

Entering hadn't even crossed my mind, to be truthful, but as we left he Great Hall, I was immediately attacked and badgered by my friends, who insisted I enter. I finally had to agree in order to shake them off my shoulders, but I'm still hesitant. I mean, five thousand galleons is a decent prize, but facing perilous tasks in which I could possibly die just for money and glory doesn't appeal to me. I'd rather be alive and remembered by my friends than dead and remembered by people who have never met me. Perhaps I can just pretend to put my name in the goblet.

Speaking of my oh-so thoughtful friends, I can hear them calling my name from the common room, where everyone else is gathered and having a small back-to-school party. I managed to escape to my room to write, but now it seems I'm wanted and must return.

One final note I feel the need to put down, however, before the thought grows stale and fade from my mind: green eyes. I keep seeing his beautiful green eyes everywhere. I can picture every detail, every small contour, of his face so clearly in my mind. When I see him, I can't help but stare until I'm shaken into reality by my friends. Sometimes, he catches me staring, and before I can snap my gaze away in embarrassment, he looks at me. I don't understand the look, but the connection we create feels… indescribable.

What's come over me?

Signed: Cedric.