Minnie walked around the girl side of the tent, grinning at Hermione and Ginny as they giggled and shrieked while grappling for the top bunk. "You two are going to get yourselves hurt messing around like that," she pointed out teasingly, ducking to avoid a pillow that was thrown her way. Ginny peeked her head over the bunk, her face flushed.
"So how about Diggory looking at you while we headed to the Portkey, huh?" she asked mockingly, eyes glittering mischievously, reminding Minnie weirdly of her twin brothers. Minnie rolled her eyes, fighting to keep her blush in check. "He wasn't staring," she insisted. "He just looked at me for a moment, that's all. If anything, he was probably more interested in Harry. You know how he's always checking out the Quidditch players." Ginny rolled her eyes at Hermione who giggled. "But YOU'RE a Quidditch player, Min," Hermione pointed out. "And everyone knows how good you are. Even Cedric." At this last comment, Hermione and Ginny wiggled their eyebrows suggestively. Minnie couldn't stop the blush this time. "Oh come off it!" she cried, throwing a pillow up at them, making the two girls break out into hysterics once again.
"Alright, you lot!" came Mr. Weasley's voice from the center gathering room of the tent, making Minnie dash toward the sound of his voice, leaving the two others to giggle madly behind her. Minnie's father stood in his Muggle attire, grinning broadly. He showed no indication of who he was favoring in the World Cup, either Ireland or Bulgaria, though Minnie couldn't say the same for her twin brothers, who were completely decked out in Irish gear. The large green hats and shamrocks glittering on their faces showed their obvious support for the Irish side.
"Time to get moving," Mr. Weasley continued, surveying the children, doing a double take when he spotted Fred and George. He glanced at his older daughter, eyebrows raised. Minnie shrugged, tugging on her Irish scarf and plastering a single shamrock to her cheek. "Just because we came from the same womb, Dad," she reminded him, "doesn't mean I know why they do some things." Mr. Weasley shrugged and led the way out of the tent, the triplets, Hermione, Ginny, Ron and Harry following close behind. Minnie glanced around their campsite, seeing red and green poking up everywhere, reminding her of Christmas, though it was only August.
Minnie saw a flash of gold in the corner of her among the tents on either side, and she turned curiously. Suddenly, she lost her footing, and the ground was coming up to meet her. She shut her eyes tight, bracing for impact—but there was none. She opened her eyes and looked up to see a pair of shining gray eyes smiling down at her, paired with a shy smile.
Cedric Diggory.
Minnie blushed wildly as Cedric pulled her to her feet. "You alright?" he asked with concern lighting his silky voice, making Minnie's knees wobble dangerously. She nearly fell once more, had it not been for Cedric's strong arm circling her waist. "I'm fine," she breathed, looking up to his deep gray eyes and practically losing herself in them. "Thanks for being there to catch me." His smile made Minnie weak at the knees. "Anytime," he replied, winking slightly.
"Hehe…thanks," she said, blushing profusely. The two walked in silence now, glancing at each other occasionally, and when their gazes met, looking away quickly.
"So," Cedric said, glancing at Minnie carefully. "I'm guessing you're rooting for the Irish?" He gestured to her scarf and the glittering shamrock on her cheek. Minnie nodded, grinning up at the Hufflepuff boy. "Always been an Irish fan," she admitted, laughing. "What about you? I don't see you dressed up for your team. Shame, really." Cedric chuckled, eyes glinting with amusement.
"I don't really have a preference on who I cheer for," he admitted. "I just like to watch Quidditch, and my dad surprised me with tickets. I honestly didn't even know who was playing in the finals; I stopped keeping track after England was beat." Minnie laughed. "I did mostly," she responded, tugging at her scarf with only slight nervousness. "But I still kept up with Ireland; I may or may not have a crush on the Seeker." Cedric's smile widened at this.
"Lynch?" he asked. Minnie nodded, not the least bit ashamed. "Isn't he a little bit of an idiot?" Cedric continued, laughing as Minnie swatted at him.
"He is not!" she insisted. "He's bloody brilliant, he is! He caught the snitch in the semis, WHICH, I might add, helped the Irish pummel Scotland. The Bulgarians barely won their match against Turkey to get here, which just proves that Lynch is 10 times the Seeker Krum is." Cedric held his hand up by his head, still chortling.
"I don't doubt your logic, Min," he assured her. "I just never took you for the type to like Seekers." Minnie snorted. "That's the only type I like, Diggory," she informed him. The subject was halted with Cedric looking very pleased with himself.
They talked and laughed all the way to the stadium, Fred and George joining in after a while of bothering one another. "We still think that Krum is going to catch the snitch but Ireland will win," Fred was saying as they climbed the steep stairs to the top of the stadium. Their conversation had previously been interrupted by the Malfoys and their pureblood mania, but to keep Minnie from hexing the family, the three boys had carried it on as they continued to climb higher. George nodded along with his twin, Cedric looked confused and Minnie only rolled her eyes at her brothers. "If Bulgaria catches the snitch, they will for sure win the Cup," she recited for the fourth time since they started on the subject. "That's just logic."
Fred and George gave her looks as they finally reached their seats at the very top of the stadium. "We will see about that," they said together.
As the Irish and Bulgarians zoomed onto the field, the crowd roaring around them, Minnie glanced over at Cedric, who looked back at her with shining silver eyes. They exchanged warm smiles before turning and yelling their encouragement at the players. Their hands brushed ever-so-slightly on the railing in front of them. Cedric's hand twitched to slightly cover Minnie's as they watched the Quaffle glide into the air and the Irish Chaser Mullet snatched it from the air, to the delight of the audience. Their hands lay touching for the rest of the match, while both owners stood yelling until their voices were hoarse and sneaking glances at each other every few moments.