Chapter Twenty-One: Mirror

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The Hufflepuff changing room was surprisingly warm and more spacious than Oriane had anticipated. Bright yellow banners bearing the mark of the Hufflepuff badger hung from various locations around the room. It was clean, and looked like it hadn't been used for awhile (since Hufflepuff had been knocked out of the runnings and all... not that Oriane wanted to remind Cedric for a second time that day). The chalkboard at the front of the room even held remnants of the teams last game plan.

She sat in one of the room's many chairs. In a way, it was almost set up like a classroom. Oriane began to imagine Cedric, standing at the front of the room, showing the others on the team techniques or things to keep an eye on. However in that moment he sat next to her, chair facing towards her as he rummaged through a small box in his lap.

Eventually, he pulled out a vial where a small, colorless liquid was sealed inside. He grabbed a wad of cotton from the box as well, taking great care as he began to pour the liquid onto it.

"Wouldn't it be easier to take me to see Madam Pomfrey?" asked Oriane.

Cedric let out a breathy laugh. "Yeah right. She told me to keep an eye on you, and told you to take it easy. I think if she saw you in this condition, she'd have my head." He lifted his hand and motioned to her head. "Ready?"

She nodded and leaned forward for easier reach. Whatever was in that vial stung as it made contact with her wound. It wasn't terrible, but certainly uncomfortable. Though, she had to admit most of her discomfort came from the sheer embarrassment of the situation.

"I'm terrified of heights," she blurted.

Cedric paused for a moment as he pulled away the then bloody cotton wad. He set it to the side on another chair before digging for another clean one.

"I didn't realize," he commented, looking at her. "I'm sorry, I should have known. Really, bringing you up that high was stupid, even if you weren't afraid."

"Don't be sorry. It's my fault, I should have just told you."

An involuntary whimper left her lips as Cedric pressed another cotton wad to her head. Of course, the stinging pain followed with it. The two of them could go back and forth forever trying to take the blame. In an attempt to change the subject, she tried to think of a joke.

"Maybe that's what my boggart should have been."

"What, the view from above the pitch?" he chuckled. He finished cleaning her wound shortly after that. He tossed the soiled items to the side before leaning back in his chair. "What was your boggart?"

His question took her by surprise. Though not many people mentioned it, she thought almost everyone had heard the story of her and her boggart. Even Draco Malfoy had learned about it (as he so graciously reminded her after the Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw game) but not Cedric? Someone she considered her friend?

"A mirror," she admitted.

He gave the same reaction that everyone else did; confusion. And she couldn't blame him, or anyone else for that matter. A mirror? Who could possibly be afraid of their own reflection?

"I know what you're thinking," she continued. "It's not exactly your average fear."

Her hand reached up to her head where the pads of her fingers lightly brushed against her wound. She hadn't been able to look at it, but going off of touch alone it didn't feel too large. Mostly an annoying scrape.

"Stop messing with it. You'll get it infected," Cedric chastised as he leaned forward to pull her hand away. He then paused for a moment, tilting his head to the side. "Why a mirror?"

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