One of the things Hermione enjoyed most in the world was astonishing people. There was something rewarding about it, seeing their jaws hang open stupidly like they were stunned. She enjoyed the smug feeling of power it gave her over them, especially if she was proving someone wrong at the same time, doing something they'd thought she could not.

And she was very much enjoying the astonished expressions of the Hufflepuffs around her now.

Hermione lined up her fifth shot, aiming the cue and cue ball at the orange 5 ball. She'd decided to hit all the solids into the cups in order, just to be flashy.

As she lined up her shot, like with every other shot, Hermione pulled on her magic, and the air elemental inside of her eased out, charging the air around the game. An air tunnel from the cue ball to the ball she wanted to hit formed, with invisibe small, tight winds shaping the walls. Another tunnel from the target ball to the pocket she wanted to get it in helped set her path, and the air elemental spread out the air along the path, creating a soft vacuum to help as well.

Checking mentally that the air was set properly once more, the invisible tunnels strong, Hermione hit the cue ball with a loud thwack, sending it on its way.

From the looks of it, Hermione hadn't done a fantastic job with that shot – it naturally should have slanted decidedly to the left, from the angle she'd hit it at – but the air elemental had the cue ball speeding along its predetermined path to smack into the orange ball, which rolled off the side and into a nearby pocket just as planned. Hermione lazily chalked her cue stick again, just for show.

Her opponent, Bernard, was standing dumbfounded while hanging onto his own stick. He'd yet to take a turn.

"How is she doing this?" Ben hissed at Cedric. "She holds the cue like she's barely played."

Cedric was grinning widely now, reassured and proud. "Who knows?"

It was mildly amusing that it was a silly pool game that would earn her the respect of these older boys, to Hermione. Each to their own, though, she figured. If they had been Ravenclaws, she imagined they'd have quizzed her on upper-level material, and if they'd been Gryffindors, there'd have undoubtedly been some sort of stupid dare.

Deciding to show off even more, to emphasize that she could win even though she didn't have any sort of actual skill at the game, Hermione had her air elemental wind tunnel two paths for her next shot. When she hit the cue ball the next time, it clacked into both the green 6 and scarlet 7, sending two balls rolling into pockets, the green just slightly before the scarlet. Jaws dropped slightly more, and Hermione smirked.

"Where should I send this last one?" Hermione asked. "I have to call this one, don't I?"

"Front corner pocket, right," Hamish suggested.

"No, no, give her a challenge," Bernard said, suddenly piping in. His eyes glinted. "Back left corner."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Alright."

The back-left corner was crowded with striped balls around it, making it a very difficult shot. Hermione glanced at the table, mentally tallying up the angles and the geometry necessary to make it work.

"There's no way," Ben snorted. "The others were fairly straight shots. There's no way."

Shooting him an annoyed look, Hermione smacked the cue ball hard.

The cue ball sped off fast, rolling off at a distinct spin, slamming into the side of the 8-ball and setting it spinning as well. As the 8-ball rolled, the spin made it move in a slow curve, allowing it to angle right through a gap in the striped balls, all of which were firmly held in place by her air magic pressing them down. The black ball teetered on the edge of the pocket for a moment before falling in, and Hermione glanced at Bernard, raising her eyebrows.

"Game," she said unnecessarily. "I win."

There was a dramatic silence before the Hufflepuffs all seemed to simultaneously burst into laughter and applause. Madeline cheered, and Bernard was laughing even as he clapped for her, still holding his stick. Despite their apparent loss, they were all smiling and cheerful, and Hermione wondered if perhaps she'd been taking the bet much more seriously than they had been.

"That was brilliant!" Hamish crowed. "I've never seen anything like that! How did you do it, Hermione?"

"I've never seen Bernard lose," Ben said, still awed. "Not unless he's playing partners with a crap one."

"That doesn't make any sense," Bernard was moaning, tugging at his hair. "Those angles made no sense. How did you possibly—"

Cedric was grinning widely at her, and after she won, he'd swooped down on her, tugging her into his arms as he laughed.

"See?" he challenged his friends, eyes glinting. "She's good at everything she does."

"No kidding," Madeline whistled, amused.

Ben muttered something from the side, and Cedric shot him a sharp look.

"Don't be crude," he warned.

"Well, I'll certainly leave her alone." Bernard was walking over now, a sheepish grin on his face. "Suppose I needed someone to take me down a peg or two, really – just didn't expect it from a complete amateur a couple years younger." He grinned at her. "Good game, though. Really."

Now that the challenge had been completed, the atmosphere loosened, and several of the Hufflepuffs took up a game of doubles again.

"So how have Cedric's parents been?" Madeline asked Hermione. "Now that he's offered suit, I imagine they must be scrutinizing your every move."

Hermione glanced up at Cedric, who was draped around her shoulders, holding her from the back so she was nestled up against his front.

"His mother's been perfectly polite so far, and she seems happy for him," she offered. "I haven't seen his father yet this evening, though. I imagine he'll be rather more strict about things."

"I don't care what my father says," Cedric said darkly. "He doesn't care about my happiness, just that I give the Diggory family a good name."

"She's powerful and a pureblood," Madeline said, flicking her eyes to Hermione. "What's not to improve the Diggory name?"

"I'm not, strictly speaking, a pureblood," Hermione offered. "I'm a New Blood, which is a bit different."

"New Blood?" Madeline looked quizzical. "What's that?"

Hermione explained, and after she summarized, Madeline looked thoughtful.

"So after you're 17 and the Wizengamot accepts you, you'll effectively be pureblood, right?" she asked, practical. Hermione nodded, and Madeline shrugged. "Then what's your origin matter?"

Hermione decided she liked Madeline. She'd never had someone so explicitly indicate they assumed she'd pass whatever trials the Wizengamot handed down to her.

"My father has opinions on different families of purebloods, too," Cedric said begrudgingly. "He's… probably going to take some issue with Hermione being in Slytherin, too."

"He is?" Hermione glanced up at Cedric. "Why? I thought he was impressed with me being the 'Heroine of Hogwarts'?"

Cedric bit back a wince. "You'll see. Later. Let's just enjoy the party for now, alright?"

Hermione nodded slowly, wariness creeping into her. "…Alright."

Hermione watched as the Hufflepuffs chatted openly, friendly and bright with each other as they bickered good-naturedly about teams and whose turn it was. It took her a minute to realize one of Cedric's friends was lurking nearby, looking at her oddly. When Hermione looked back at him quizzically, he offered a rueful grin.

"'The Heroine of Hogwarts'?" he said. "That was you?"

Hermione stared at him.

"Yes," she said slowly, not sure if he was serious. "I killed the basilisk last year."

"Merlin, Matt, have you forgotten already?" Cedric teased. "The monster even petrified one of ours."

Matthew flushed.

"To be fair," he said hotly, "it's not like I memorize the details of the Daily Prophet."

"She got an award in front of the entire school last year," Cedric pointed out.

"Do you remember who the 'Hero of Hogwarts' was?" Matthew shot back. "Who got an award a few years back?"

"Err..." Cedric winced. "Well... err... that was the one who was Penny Haywood's friend, right?"

"See?" Matthew rolled his eyes and folded his arms. "Hogwarts always has something dangerous and exciting going on. You can't expect a person to remember everyone who does something remarkable."

Cedric muttered something beneath his breath about slaying a basilisk at age 13 being a little more than just 'remarkable', and Hermione stifled a giggle.

"Besides," Matthew said, his tone weary, "with all the Sirius Black chaos, we've all fairly forgotten everything else."

"That's fair," Cedric conceded with a chuckle. "I think we're all ready for that mess to be done and over with."

"For sure," Matthew sighed.

Hermione looked at them both, somewhat surprised. She knew Harry was stressed over Sirius Black (for good reason), and the Slytherins were simply through his connection to the Dark Lord, but she hadn't realized it was stressing the other houses as much. She wondered if it was worry over being attacked, or just stress from chafing under safety restrictions and the ever-present risk.

Well, no matter. It wasn't like it was her fault Sirius Black was out of Azkaban.

Hermione watched as the Hufflepuffs chatted and played pool for a while. It looked easy and friendly, some of them exchanging banter with Cedric as she and he watched from the side, and she smiled at their casual, open nature with each other. When Madeline moved to line up a shot, her remark echoed in her mind, and abruptly, Hermione turned to Cedric.

"Cedric?" she said, looking up at him.

Cedric looked down at her. "Yes?"

"Madeline said you must really like me," she said.

Cedric smiled at her, his eyes warm.

"I thought that was fairly clear by now," he teased. "I do really like you, Hermione."

"Cedric…" Hermione held his gaze, biting her lip. "Why do you like me?"

Cedric blinked. "Why?"

"Yes. Why?" Hermione repeated. "All this time, I've been very aware of why I'm attracted to you, but when I think about it, I haven't the slightest idea what draws you to me."

Cedric looked at her with wide eyes.

"You're serious?" he said, incredulity in his tone. "You're serious, aren't you."

"I'm two years under you," Hermione argued. "There are dozens of older girls who are prettier, many of them in Ravenclaw who take their studies seriously. What makes you like me?"

Cedric studied her for a long moment, putting his hands on her upper arms.

"Hermione…" he said softly. His eyes were warm. "You have no idea how people see you, do you?"

Hermione felt a shiver, and Cedric guided her over to a couch. He helped her sit down before sitting down next to her, knees pointing towards her. His eyes met hers, steady, and the seriousness and depth of his expression made her shiver.

"I will readily admit that there are many girls at Hogwarts," he said, keeping his voice relatively quiet, so as not to be overheard. "There are girls in my year studying the same material. There are girls who are prettier. There are girls who work harder. There are girls that know more. But Hermione… they are nothing like you."

Hermione listened as he spoke. His voice was so intent, she felt like she was holding her breath.

"When those girls see me, they see a handsome boy," he told her. "They giggle, they flirt, they play with their hair. They fancy me, sure, but they… there's just not much there. I can chat about classes with them, sure, but that's about it."

"But with you… you're hungry for magic, to talk about and dissect the theory behind it. You started learning fourth-year spells with me last year for fun, and you mastered some of them faster than me. That intensity, Hermione, is captivating." His eyes were intent on her, not moving. "Your determination and utter confidence in yourself and your abilities… I wouldn't say it makes you charismatic, exactly, but it's mesmerizing."

For a moment, Hermione wondered. If that was true, was it her personality making her captivating, or was it her magic doing something more?

"And ever since I first met you, you didn't treat me like a cute boy – you treated me like a person," Cedric went on. "Ever since second year, girls… the way they've talked to me and looked at me has been…" He trailed off, clearing his throat. "And then there was you. Who was full of indignation moments after meeting me, arguing like a spitfire and putting me in my place. Who clearly noticed I was a cute boy, and didn't seem to care in the slightest."

Hermione wondered if she was supposed to talk to cute boys differently. Other girls weren't treating them like they were people?

"Do you have any idea how great that feels?" he went on. "To be seen? To know you're spending time with me not because I'm handsome, or because of my name, but because you've grown to genuinely enjoy my company?" His voice was heartfelt, passionate and slightly pained. "I've always just been a person to you, Hermione, not some cute boy to hang on to. I feel like I've been doing most of the hanging on, actually," he said ruefully, running a hand through his hair. "So that's new, being the clingy one."

Hermione felt a flicker of guilt for a moment. He was the one hanging on, the one who took every step to escalate their relationship; she was the one who was holding back.

"And you might not be the prettiest, but you're pretty enough," he told her, giving her a gentle smile. He smoothed her hair back from her face. "You're tall and fit, and you look great in your robes. Your hair is pretty and suits you perfectly, as do your eyes, and the way they light up with fire. And your smile is so gorgeous, it makes me stumble – I feel like I can do anything, sometimes, when you smile at me like that. It's magical."

"It is magic," Hermione admitted. "A bully teased me about my terrible overbite when I was ten, and the next day when I awoke, my teeth were magically straightened and perfect, and the bully had an overbite like a rabbit."

Cedric laughed heartily.

"That's not quite what I meant," he teased her, and Hermione grinned along with him, sheepish.

"There's a lot about you that I like, Hermione," Cedric told her, rubbing his thumb over her hand. "Enough that I sent you jewelry, so you might wear my token. Enough that I don't want to let you go."

Hermione's mood dimmed at the mention of his token.

"Did you talk to your parents about giving me jewelry?" she asked, keeping her voice neutral.

"I did," Cedric said. His eyes were soft. "My mother was delighted I'd found someone I wanted to court, and my father agreed to give you a fair chance."

Hermione wondered what 'a fair chance' would mean.

"It'll be fine," Cedric assured her. "It will all work out fine. Don't worry about him. Just... be here right now, with me."

Hermione opted not to voice her doubts, but she allowed herself to be pulled in for a soft kiss, his lips warm against hers. His friends started hooting and teasing, laughing around them, but Hermione ignored them, allowing herself to be lost in the feel of the moment for just a little while, even if a part of her was aware it wouldn't last much longer.