Cedric and Arabella walked through the night as if in a dream, talking and laughing, enjoying one another's company and wishing the night could last longer. After hurriedly fleeing from the scene Hermione and Ron had made, the two had slowed their pace to stroll through the rose gardens, where the occasional giggle or snort of laughter could be heard.
"Doesn't seem like the most private of locations," mused Arabella thoughtfully, eyeing the plentiful bushes as they passed by. "I mean, if I wanted to go snogging someone, I'd definitely do it somewhere less… exposed."
"Is that right?" snorted Cedric, fingers slipping into his partner's hands with ease. "I wonder if there's even such a place as you're describing."
"Maybe," Arabella responded playfully, tightening her grip. "I'm sure the castle has many hidden locations— but this garden…."
The two talked about their futures and desires, and of their love for Quidditch. They spoke of friends and speculations, as well as ambitions and hobbies. Arabella was quite stunned to hear that Cedric enjoyed Muggle gardening, a pastime in which he described as helping him through multiple bouts of feeling unmotivated and anxious.
"Who knew you had such a green thumb," chuckled Arabella, resting at a bench near the outskirts of the rose bush perimeter. "If I ever brought you home, I think my Mum would throw herself on you and beg you to tend her gardens. She's always wanted a nice garden but has the opposite of a green thumb, and everything I touch practically dies on contact…."
"Oh, and is that an invitation?" he snickered, joining her. Noticing the sudden chill that lingered, he quickly removed his suit jacket and held it out for Arabella. "May I?" he asked.
"Yeah," said Arabella, smiling up brightly. She swiftly laced her arms through the sleeves, feeling the warmth of his body imprinted against the smooth fabric. "Thanks, Cedric."
Under his jacket, the white crips dress shirt tucked neatly into his dark pants glowed like a shimmering pearl in the fairy lights. Outside in this more exposed environment, Arabella couldn't help but think Cedric Diggary looked like a Renaissance painting.
"You're staring," he said after a moment's pause, lips quirking upwards with faint amusement. "What, have I got something on my face or something? Food crumbs?" he wiped hurriedly around his mouth. "I wish you'd told me this before—"
"No, nothing of the sort," snorted Arabella. "I'm just… admiring you…"
Her hands were once more between his, and the intensity of their eyes meeting felt like an electric shock to her system.
"Oh," was all Cedric managed, cheeks flushing a dark crimson.
They sat in a pleasant silence, only broken by the occasional shuffle of feet or a small giggle. And if Arabella's ears were working correctly, she could have sworn she heard a couple of what sounded to be muffled moans.
"We really ought to get out of here," she said, cheeks flushing at not-so-appropriate thoughts. "You look cold, here, take back your… "
But Cedric had moved closer to her, bringing both of her palms up and pressing them softly to his lips. Her voice died before she could finish her sentences.
"Can I ask you a serious question?" Cedric asked, soft voice cracking from nerves.
Arabella nodded, speechless and stunned.
"I'm feeling rather courageous at the moment, so please don't laugh," he continued, licking his lips as if they'd gone suddenly dry.
"I won't laugh," Arabella responded thoughtfully, heart quickening its pace.
"Would you…" he began, clearly searching for coherent words. "Can I… me… would I… no… would you… I—"
Arabella leaned in without hesitation and pressed her cold lips to his, inhaling sharply through her nose as warmth she had never felt flooded her system. She'd never really kissed anyone before tonight (unless one counted Oliver Wood's unexpected kiss of victory the year before, which she didn't), the tender pressure she felt on her mouth made it feel like her head was spinning. She drew back abruptly, breathing hard.
"I— I'm sorry," she gasped, aghast at her own actions. "I d-don't know what c-came over me— I think I— I might need to—"
But Cedric had cut her off with purposefully placing his mouth against hers once more, this time moving, deepening the kiss into something much more. Arabella kissed back with equal pressure, hands shifting so that they rested just behind Cedric's warm neck. Her fingers felt like ice, and before she knew it, her companion wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him, so close that she could detect a hammering heartbeat that wasn't her own. When their contact broke, both were breathing heavily. Face's still quite close to one another, one of Cedric's hands gently caressed Arabella's cheeks.
"S-s-sorry," he said, "it's just— it's like you were reading my mind exactly, knowing exactly what I was asking— I couldn't help myself— you have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that for…."
A laugh bubbled up through Arabella's throat, and she only smiled back dazildy, resting her head carefully against the boy's heaving chest. They stayed like that, wrapped in each other's embrace for a long while after.
"You must tell me what exactly it is that Beauxbatons girl tried to do," giggled Lyla as she and Draco drifted to the dance floor.
It was nearing midnight, and the Weird Sisters had announced that they were close to finishing up their performance for the night. Wanting to get in a few more dances, she and Draco had bid Ron farewell. Part of her had been curious about Daphne and her whereabouts, though she wasn't fascinated by what her friends were doing. Her mind did, however, wonder to Arabella and Cedric, for she had not seen either of them in quite some time.
"Trust me," blushed Draco, "you're better off not knowing…"
"Oh yeah?" she said, leaning forward so that he had nowhere else to look but her eyes, "try me, Mr. Malfoy."
"Oh, don't call me that," grunted the pale boy, looking somewhere above Lyla's head. "It sounds like you're addressing my father…"
"Can I guess then?" she asked curiously. "Did it have anything to do with trying to steal a kiss or two? She was gazing at you rather hungrily…"
At Draco's silence, she only smiled.
"Well, why didn't you let her?" she laughed as she spun, aware of how wide her skirts flared out. "I mean, it seems like there's a lot of that going around tonight."
"Not interested in kissing someone I don't know," Draco said shortly, "and besides, I'd rather kiss…."
They were facing each other now and stepping in a careful and deliberate square.
"Rather kiss… who?" Lyla said, heart proceeding to tap dance all across her rib cage. By the way the boy was flushing, he appeared to fancy them quite a lot. "Oh, come on, out with it! I've never heard you speak about anyone like this before."
His gray eyes flicked around nervously as if he wished the other couples around them were gone. He opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out. It seemed speech had momentarily left him.
"I'd like to…" he began horsley, cheeks turning scarlet, "I would— uh, well— I— I—"
Lyla's eyes widened, wondering who had her usually eloquent friend tongue-tied.
"… you…" he finished at last, gaze cast down, chest rising and falling rapidly as if breathing had become difficult.
They had stopped moving and remained stationary as other couples danced around them. To Lyla, it felt as if time had come to a raging halt, the only pieces in motion between her and him. As their gazes met, she was shocked and surprised to see such vulnerability, open and ready for anyone to witness might they walk up and interrupt.
"You want to…" breathed out Lyla, feeling a none too pleasant drip of sweat fall down the side of her neck, "you want to… to really… really… me?"
"Yes," said Draco, hands now holding her waist gently. "I've— well, I've liked you for ages, I think…."
Lyla's heart gave an involuntary stutter.
"… so may I?"
"May you… what?"
"K-kiss you," Draco said, nearly gasping for breath. "I would— you're the one I want to— to kiss. Not some stranger, no matter how pretty they may be. I've always wanted it to… with you…"
His tone was hopeful, as were his pleading gray eyes. She could feel the hands around her waist shook, and noticed that his entire body seemed to vibrate slightly. She vaguely could sense that her own hands shook, though to what degree, she couldn't quite tell.
"Alright," she said on one large exhale.
And his mouth was on hers faster than she could comprehend, and the breath was swiftly knocked out of Lyla's lungs. She'd kissed boys before, of course, and knew exactly what was expected. But apparently, she didn't here in the center of the Yule Ball dance floor, and her head swam with so many new sensations. When it ended, spots danced in her vision. She unthinkingly reached forward and secured her arms around a sturdy torso, and laughed breathlessly as Draco's worried face came into focus.
"A-are— are you okay?" he asked anxiously, cheeks equally as red as a ripe apple. "I didn't— I didn't hurt you— I— ?"
"I'm fine," she said after regaining a bit of her breath, "I just… forgot to breathe, that's all…"
His worried expression cracked, and a genuine smile lit up his features like candles on a cake. It was then that Lyla caught sight of three very familiar faces staring directly at her, one looking downright stunned while the two others both looked smugly satisfied. It was Daphne, Blaise, and Theo, and all looked like they'd been given a series of castles in the English countryside. Theo was the one who seemed shocked, while it appeared Daphne and Blaise were exchanging something that twinkled in the ballroom light.
When the Weird Sis ters fin ished play ing at mid night, everyone gave them a last, loud round of applause and start ed to wend their way in to the entrance hall. Lyla made a direct line to her friends.
"Were you betting on us?!" she shrieked, coming down on Blaise and Daphne, who both had a few poorly hidden galleons in their hands.
"Technically, no," said Blaise, who looked quite vindictive indeed.
"But yes, too," laughed Theo, "thanks to you lot, I just got an additional twenty galleons in honor of such a little snog."
"Haha," she said sarcastically, smacking the boy on the shoulder none too gently. "Glad to see that my life amuses you so. Where are your dates? Scared them off, have you?"
"Just said goodnight to them, actually," said Daphne, a dreamy expression returning to her face.
Many peo ple around the small group of friends were ex press ing the wish that the ball could have gone on longer, and Lyla couldn't help but agree.
"Well," she sighed, "guess we all should tuck in for the night…"
Hand in hand with Draco, Lyla and her friends slowly made their way out to the en trance hall, where they were just able to catch a glimpse of Hermione say ing goodnight to Krum be fore he went back to the Durm strange ship. As the Slytherins made their way to the stairway that led down to the dungeons, a voice stopped them.
"Hey— Lyla!"
It was Cedric, and Lyla could see Arabella wait ing for him in the en trance hall above, his dark overcoat tossed over her shoulders. She waved at her sister and gave a slight wink of encouragement.
"Uh, yeah?" Lyla said in puzzlement.
"Can I talk to you in private?" he said, eyes darting to Draco and the others.
Her friends shrugged and turned, continuing downward, while Draco narrowed his eyes at the other champion.
"It's okay," Lyla told him, shooting Cedric a friendly smile. "I'll be down soon enough. Wait for me at the bottom of the stairs?"
"Lis ten..." Cedric said, low erring his voice as Draco dis ap peared. "I owe you one for telling me about the drag ons. Does your egg wail when you open it?"
"Yes…" said Lyla, unsure where this conversation was going.
"Well… take a bath, okay?"
Lyla blinked, wondering if she'd heard him correctly.
"Take a… a what?"
"Take a bath, and— and um, take the egg with you to— well, to just mull things over in the hot wa ter. It'll help you think… Trust me."
Lyla gazed up in astonishment. Had Cedric sustained more than a burn from his encounter with the dragons?
"Tell you what," Cedric said, looking nervous as he glanced around the slowly emptying entre hall, "use the pre fects' bath room. Fourth door to the left of that stat ue of Boris the Be wil dered on the fifth floor. The password is 'pine fresh.' Gotta go… want to say goodnight—"
He grinned at Lyla again before hur rying back up the stairs to where Arabella stood, promptly intertwining their arms together and leading his date up the stairway that eventually led to Gryffindor Tower.
Everybody got up late on Boxing Day. The Gryffindor common room was much quieter than it had been as of late, many yawns punctuating the few lazy conversations that buzzed around that morning. Hermione's hair was bushy again. She and Rob seemed to have reached an unspoken agreement not to discuss their argument from the previous night, and were acting quite friendly to each other, though oddly formal. Ron wasted no time in telling the girls about the conversation he and Lyla had overheard between Madame Maxime and Hagrid, which shocked Arabella greatly, but less so Hermione.
"Well, I thought he must be," she said, shrugging. "I knew he couldn't be a pure giant because they're about twenty feet tall. But honestly, all this hysteria about giants. They can't all be horrible. . . . It's the same sort of prejudice that people have toward werewolves. . . . It's just bigotry, isn't it?"
Ron looked as though he would have liked to reply scathingly, but perhaps he didn't want another row, because he contented himself with shaking his head disbelievingly while Hermione wasn't looking.
It was time now to think of the homework they had neglected during the first week of the holidays. Everybody seemed to be feeling relatively flat now that Christmas was over. The bright side to all the holiday homework, however, was that Arabella seemed to see Cedric everywhere nowadays, who offered small smiles in public and soft kisses in between classes when the two found rare moments of privacy.
"Damn you two are cute!" sighed Daphne one evening as they studied together in their usual spot in the library. "Are you two officially it, then?"
"It?"
"You know what I mean! Are you two… well… together, of course!"
Lyla and Daphne shared a knowing smirk as Arabella felt her entire body flush.
"I suppose so," she responded, setting down her quill. "How about you all and your dates? If I do recall, Theo, you and that Esme…"
"Oh, that," snorted their friend, combing back his light brown hair. "What about it?"
"You two are still… seeing each other, aren't you?" questioned Draco with a raised brow. "… unless you aren't?"
"That affair ended ages ago," confirmed Theo, "but, I do still see her from time to time…"
"To shag?" snickered Ron, shaking his head in disbelief.
Lyla's eyes were widened in surprise while Daphne coughed loudly.
"My god, you're a vulgar lot," said Blaise with distaste. "Could you carry this conversation on elsewhere? Some of us are trying to study…"
"Hey, Ara?" piped up Lyla suddenly, frowning deeply as she met her sister's gaze, "you have any idea what Cedric meant when he gave me that bizarre hint?"
"Nope," said Arabella, returning her gaze to her Transfiguration essay.
"You must know something!" argued Ron irritably, staring down at his Potion's assignment. "You talk to him all the time now, so—"
"Yes, except we don't talk a lot about the tournament," corrected Arabella, "and when we do, it mainly consists of how he's feeling."
"And he's feeling…"
"Like I would tell you, Ron," said Arabella irritably.
Arabella and Cedric's relationship occupied much of Lyla's mind, especially when she witnessed them together, hand in hand, smiling at one another with what looked to be complete adoration. She'd never seen anything quite like it, especially with Arabella.
Snow was still thick upon the grounds, and the greenhouse windows were covered in condensation so thick that they couldn't see out of them in Herbology. Nobody was looking forward to Care of Magical Creatures much in this weather, though as Blaise said, the skrewts would probably warm them up nicely, either by chasing them, or blasting off so forcefully that Hagrid's cabin would catch fire. When they arrived at Hagrid's cabin, however, they found an elderly witch with closely cropped gray hair and a very prominent chin standing before his front door.
"Hurry up, now, the bell rang five minutes ago," she barked at them as they struggled toward her through the snow.
"Who're you?" said Ron, staring at her. "Where's Hagrid?"
"My name is Professor Grubbly-Plank," she said briskly. "I am your temporary Care of Magical Creatures teacher."
"Where's Hagrid?" Arabella repeated loudly.
"He is indisposed," said Professor Grubbly-Plank shortly.
Soft and unpleasant laughter reached their ears, familiar at that. Exasperated, she turned; Pansy and the rest of her ghoulish gang were all towards the back, snickering loudly. All of them looked gleeful, and none of them looked surprised to see Professor Grubbly-Plank.
"This way, please," said Professor Grubbly-Plank, and she strode off around the paddock where the Beauxbatons horses were shivering. The students followed, and Arabella cast a concerned look back over her shoulder at Hagrid's cabin. All the curtains were closed.
"Do you think he's I'll? "she asked worriedly.
"What's wrong with Hagrid?" Lyla said, hurrying to catch up with Professor Grubbly-Plank.
"Never you mind," she said as though she thought he was being nosy.
"We do mind, though," said Draco hotly. "What's up with him?"
Professor Grubbly-Plank acted as though she couldn't hear him. She led them past the paddock where the huge Beauxbatons horses were standing, huddled against the cold, and toward a tree on the edge of the forest, where a large and beautiful unicorn was tethered. Many girls "ooooohed!" at the sight of the unicorn.
"Oh, it's so beautiful!" whispered Lavender. "How did she get it? They're supposed to be really hard to catch!"
The unicorn was so brightly white it made the snow all around look gray. It was pawing the ground nervously with its golden hooves and throwing back its horned head.
"Boys keep back!" barked Professor Grubbly-Plank, throwing out an arm and catching Harry hard in the chest. "They prefer the woman's touch, unicorns. Girls to the front, and approach with care, come on, easy does it. . . ."
Arabella and Daphne walked toward the unicorn, but Lyla stood where she was.
"What do you think is the matter with him?" she whispered to Draco. You don't think a skrewt — ?"
"Oh, he hasn't been attacked, Potter, if that's what you're thinking," said Pansy softly. She, too, had not neared the unicorn, looking at the creature with a foul expression. "No, he's just too ashamed to show his big, ugly face."
Pansy had gotten, if it were possible, even nastier. Since seeing Draco and Lyla arm in arm at the ball, her attitude had become hostile and rather vindictive.
"What do you mean?" said Blaise sharply.
Pansy put her hand inside the pocket of her robes and pulled out a folded page of newsprint.
"There you go," she said, sneering. "Hate to break it to you, but. . . ."
Her grin only grew as Lyla snatched the page, unfolded it, and read it, with Draco, Blaise, Theo, and Ron looking over her shoulder. It was an article topped with a picture of Hagrid looking extremely shifty.
DUMBLEDORE'S GIANT MISTAKE
Albus Dumbledore, eccentric Headmaster of Hog- warts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has always been bold in making controversial staff appointments, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. In September of this year, he hired Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, the notoriously jinx-happy ex-Auror, to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, a decision that caused many raised eyebrows at the Ministry of Magic, given Moody's well-known habit of at- tacking anybody who makes a sudden movement in his presence. Mad-Eye Moody, however, looks responsible and kindly when set beside the part-human Dumbledore employs to teach Care of Magical Creatures.
Rubeus Hagrid, who admits to being expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, has enjoyed the position of gamekeeper at the school ever since, a job secured for him by Dumbledore. Last year, however, Hagrid used his mysterious influence over the headmaster to secure the additional post of Care of Magical Creatures teacher over the heads of many better-qualified candidates. An alarmingly large and ferocious-looking man, Hagrid has been using his newfound authority to terrify the students in his care with a succession of horrific creatures. While Dumbledore turns a blind eye, Hagrid has maimed several pupils during a series of lessons that many admit to being "very frightening."
"A hippogriff attacked me, and my friend Vincent Crabbe got a bad bite off a flobberworm," says Pansy Parkinson, a fourth-year student. "We all hate Hagrid, but we're just too scared to say anything."
Hagrid has no intention of ceasing his campaign of intimidation, however. In conversation with a Daily Prophet reporter last month, he admitted breeding creatures he has dubbed "Blast-Ended Skrewts," highly dangerous crosses between manticores and fire-crabs. The creation of new breeds of magical creature is, of course, an activity usually closely observed by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Hagrid, however, considers himself to be above such petty restrictions.
"I was just having some fun," he says before hastily changing the subject.
As if this were not enough, the Daily Prophet has now unearthed evidence that Hagrid is not — as he has always pretended — a pure-blood wizard. He is not, in fact, even pure human. His mother, we can exclusively reveal, is none other than the giantess Fridwulfa, whose whereabouts are currently unknown. Bloodthirsty and brutal, the giants brought themselves to the point of extinction by warring amongst themselves during the last century. The handful that remained joined the ranks of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and were responsible for some of the worst mass Muggle killings of his reign of terror. While many of the giants who served He-Who- Must-Not-Be-Named were killed by Aurors working against the Dark Side, Fridwulfa was not among them. It is possible she escaped to one of the giant communities still existing in foreign mountain ranges. However, if his antics during Care of Magical Creatures lessons are any guide, Fridwulfa's son appears to have inherited her brutal nature.
In a bizarre twist, Hagrid is reputed to have developed a close friendship with the boy who brought around You-Know-Who's fall from power — thereby driving Hagrid's own mother, like the rest of You-Know-Who's supporters, into hiding. Perhaps the famous Potter twins are unaware of the unpleasant truth about their large friend — but Albus Dumbledore surely has a duty to ensure that they, along with their fellow students, are warned about the dangers of associating with part-giants.
Lyla finished reading and looked up at Ron, whose mouth was hanging open.
"How did she find out?" he whispered.
But that wasn't what was bothering Lyla, not in the slightest...
"What do you mean, 'we all hate Hagrid'?" She spat at Pansy. "What's this rubbish about him" — she pointed at Crabbe — "getting a bad bite off a flobberworm? They haven't even got teeth!"
Crabbe was sniggering, apparently very pleased with himself.
"Well, I think this should put an end to the oaf's teaching career," said Pansy, eyes glinting. "Half-giant . . . and there was me thinking he'd just swallowed a bottle of Skele-Gro when he was young. . . . None of the mummies and daddies are going to like this at all. . . . They'll be worried he'll eat their kids, ha, ha. . . ."
"You —"
"Are you paying attention over there!?"
Professor Grubbly-Plank's voice carried over to where the majority of boys stood; most of the girls were now clustered around the unicorn, stroking it. Lyla was so angry that the Daily Prophet article shook in her hands as she turned to stare unseeingly at the unicorn, whose many magical properties Professor Grubbly-Plank was now enumerating in a loud voice. As she stood there, body shaking slightly, Draco carefully slipped a hand into her free one, giving a reassuring squeeze.
"I do hope she stays, that woman!" said Parvati when the lesson had ended, and they were all heading back to the castle for lunch. "That's more what I thought Care of Magical Creatures would be like . . . proper creatures like unicorns, not monsters. . . ."
"What about Hagrid?" Arabella snapped as they went up the steps.
"What about him?" said Lavender in a hard voice. "He can still be gamekeeper, can't he?"
"That was an excellent lesson," said Daphne as they entered the Great Hall. "I didn't know half the things Professor Grubbly-Plank told us about uni —"
"Look at this!" Lyla snarled and shoved the Daily Prophet article under Daphne's nose.
Her friend's mouth fell open as she read while Arabella viciously shook her head.
"How did that horrible Skeeter woman find out? You don't think Hagrid told her?"
"No," said Ron, leading the way over to the Gryffindor table and throwing himself into a chair, furious. "He never even told us, did he? I reckon she was so mad he wouldn't give her loads of horrible stuff about Lyla and Arabella, she went ferreting around to get him back."
"Maybe she heard him telling Madame Maxime at the ball," said Hermione quietly.
"We'd have seen her in the garden!" said Lyla dismissively. "Anyway, she's not supposed to come into school anymore, Hagrid said Dumbledore banned her. . . ."
"Maybe she's got an Invisibility Cloak," said Theo darkly, ladling chicken casserole onto his plate and splashing it everywhere in his anger. "Sort of thing she'd do, isn't it, hide in bushes listening to people."
"Like you and Ron did, you mean," said Blaise.
"We weren't trying to hear him!" said Ron indignantly. "We didn't have any choice! The stupid prat, talking about his giantess mother where anyone could have heard him!"
"We've got to go and see him," said Lyla. "This evening, after Divination. Tell him we want him back . . . you do want him back?" she shot at her friends.
"I — well, I'm not going to pretend it didn't make a nice change, having a proper Care of Magical Creatures lesson for once —" said Daphne hesitantly.
"— but we do want Hagrid back, of course," added Daphne hastily, quailing under Lyla and Ron's furious stares.
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