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NO LONE SOUL would be able to disregard the remarkable vibrations brought along by the twenty-fourth of June. Neither Harry Potter nor Cedric Diggory — and certainly not Draco or Elara. The particular day was more than just the finale of school examinations; something both Champions had been excused from. The punctual arrival of the Third Task made its grand entrance, front and center on the main stage.
The Slytherins and Hufflepuffs coaxed Cedric with phrases embedded in encouragement. An abundance of pats on the back derived, whisper chants chorused his name — a boost of needed confidence. Best of all, a group of six used all they could manage to get the boy to eat. "You should eat before you faint," they'd tell him.
Scrambled eggs settled onto his plate by a pair of friends. A brunette buttered a slice of toast only to — accidentally chew a large bite — later grab a new piece; certain to not eat it, this time around. A set of two scooped mounts of porridge into a bowl, enough to be eaten and not left over. The last snuck peas off her plate, setting them beside scrambled eggs.
"I saw that," the formerly quiet sixth year commented. A look of extreme sternness sent to Elara, eyes drifting from the vegetables and back to her face. Draco stifled a snort, knowing the girl was bound to get into some sort of trouble. A breath taken through teeth between each word as Cedric spoke, "— put them back."
An smile of utmost sinless behaviour, too good to be true, stretched the lips of Ella. With parents as her own, the percentage of unlikeness for her to be purely innocent was high. "But they've already touched your food."
"I wonder why." At his words, a smiling Draco received a light smack on the arm. The readable expression of 'you-should-be-on-my-side' sent his way.
Not giving in to their actions, Cedric rolled his eyes. The wonders on his mind expressed as words fell from his lips; dripping like droplets of sweet honey, in curiosity. "What could possibly be better than peas?"
Softly humming her answer of "strawberries" the girl reached out to grab a plate full of her favoured fruit. The spot her peas had once resided in, taken over by the moving trucks of pretty, red fruit.
The near-encounter of bickering waylaid by a clearing of a throat, followed with a feminine voice. The Professor for Herbology and Hufflepuff Head of House, Pomona Sprout, stood directly behind the eldest boy. Her very own student belonging to the honourable House of Badgers, Cedric Diggory.
From seven various directions, grins of urbane etiquette displayed. Any evidence that'd leave their hands a bloodied vermillion — signs of a probable bickering fight — sure to be washed up by ocean tides and a thin sheet of ivory.
