Sinister

Five | Truly?

PERHAPS Margot hadn't entirely believed in magic before.

Sure, she'd cast spells and ridden broomsticks and seen her third-year Defense Against the Dark Arts professor turn into a wolf, but all of that made sense. Sort of.

Still, if Margot hadn't been entirely sold on magic before, she certainly was now. For that was the only explanation for why Cedric Diggory could possibly be interested in her. Margot Montgomery. The half-breed witch who was forever overshadowed by her friends.

After their initial encounter the evening of the Welcoming Feast, Margot started seeing Cedric everywhere. She couldn't count the amount of times they'd crossed paths in corridors, or locked eyes across the Great Hall.

Then, on Saturday, Cedric caught her just as she'd returned from Hogsmeade with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, and invited her for a walk in one of the gardens. They spoke for over an hour, chatting about everything and nothing.

He told her of his family, his childhood, his interests, his dreams. And he listened attentively as Margot described her own. He didn't seem at all bothered by the fact that she was half Muggle, nor did he bring up her father and his imprisonment. She didn't think she'd ever connected with someone so well, and so quickly, and every time his name crossed her thoughts, she got a pleasant swelling in her chest.

Yet she couldn't get Draco's ill-natured warning out of her head: Save yourself the heartbreak, darling.

What a sad world it was, that she had to take romantic advice from the loathsome wretch that was Draco Malfoy.

When Cedric's name was drawn from the Goblet of Fire, marking him as one of the Triwizard Tournament competitors, Margot feared the worst. Of course he would forget her in the face of eternal glory and splendid riches. Who wouldn't?

But whatever magic that had intertwined their fates stayed true, because when Margot walked out of her Charms class on Tuesday, she found Cedric waiting just outside the door.

For her.

"Margot," he said, face brightening when she emerged. "Can I borrow you for a minute?"

Ron - who'd been walking beside her - gave her a knowing wink and allowed them their privacy. Behind Cedric's back, the ruddy-haired Weasley mimed suggestive actions, causing Margot's eyes to widen.

"Is something wrong?" Cedric asked, turning around to see what had caught her attention.

She grabbed his arm to keep him from spotting Ron. "No, not at all," she said quickly. "What would you like to talk about?"

Cedric's gaze dropped to where she held him and the corner of his mouth lifted. He raised a hand to rub the back of his neck - a nervous tic, maybe? But what could he possibly be nervous about?

"I was wondering . . ." He let out a breath, as if to calm his nerves. "Are you seeing anyone?"

Margot's eyelids fluttered. "Me? I'm - no. I'm not. Seeing anyone, that is." She swallowed hard, clamping her lips shut before she could say something truly atrocious.

Cedric grinned. "Perhaps we could go on a proper date, then? Sometime next week, before my first task?"

"Next week?" Margot pretended to think about it, so as not to seem to available. That was what girls were meant to do, right? "I think that should work."

"Good," Cedric said, still grinning. "I look forward to it."

"Me too." And she meant it.

He began to leave, before turning at the last second. "And Margot?"

"Yeah?"

"I just wanted to say that you look very pretty today. Gryffindor colors suit you."

Merlin have mercy. "Thank you, Cedric."

Only when Margot had made it to the first floor girls' bathroom, where she was meant to meet Ron, Harry, and Hermione, did the reality of what had just transpired sunk in. She kicked open the door with a rabid shriek.

"My poor eardrums," Ron said, clamping his hands over the sides of his head. "What's possessed you, woman?!"

He, along with Harry and Hermione, sat cross-legged around a claw-foot cauldron. Margot didn't hesitate to join them, though she couldn't keep the smile from flooding her face.

Hermione observed her expression with a raised brow. "I suspect something's happened with Cedric."

"What, don't tell me Pretty Boy Diggory finally copped a feel?" Ron said with a snicker.

Margot pinched his shoulder, and then Harry's for laughing. "No, but he did ask me on a date."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Truly?"

"Truly."

This time, they squealed together, earning matching looks of distaste from both boys.

When Margot finally recovered from her excitement, she peered into the cauldron. "What are you making, anyway?"

"Draught of Peace," Harry answered, the disapproval evident in his tone.

"But that's for fifth year students."

"Exactly." Hermione stirred the mixture, then lowered the flame underneath. "But if I can master it now, then I won't have to worry about it next year. I might even get extra points from Snape."

Margot exchanged a doubtful look with Harry and Ron and said, "When has Snape ever given a Gryffindor extra points?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and produced a vial of hellebore from her robe. She poured in exactly seven drops, and the four of them watched as the potion turned a bright turquoise.

"There," she said, evidently relieved. "That should do it."

"What exactly does the Draught of Peace do again?" Margot questioned.

"If I did everything correctly and didn't add too many porcupine quills, it's supposed to relieve anxiety and agitation," Hermione said. She handed them each a cup full of the misty liquid.

"And what happens if you did add too many?" Harry asked, eyeing his portion distrustfully.

"Then you might fall into a deep, somewhat irreversible sleep."

Margot nearly spilled her cup. "Hermione!"

Ron furrowed his brows. "Somewhat irreversible? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just drink it," Hermione urged. "And tell me if it works."

"Bottoms up," Margot mumbled, and tipped her head back. The potion went down like a burning match, and she couldn't help from sputtering as it singed her mouth. Beside her, Ron and Harry did the same.

"Oh no," she could hear Hermione moan. "I was supposed to let it simmer."

A muddy panic went through Margot. She tried to stand, but the world around her whirled and tilted. No. She couldn't go to sleep now - not before her date with Cedric.

Moaning Myrtle, who had been hovering quietly above one of the stalls and observing, let out a giggle.

"I don't feel too good," Harry garbled, clutching his stomach.

Ron only let out a burp.

"Water," Margot managed to gasp. "I need water."

Despite her swirling surroundings, she managed to escape the bathroom and go out into the hallway. Her thoughts were all jumbled, her brain foggy, as she tried to remember where the nearest water fountain would be. The only time she had ever felt this way before was when she'd mistaken her mother's liquor for cough syrup and accidentally gotten drunk.

Except this was much, much worse.

Margot was so delirious, in fact, that when she spotted a familiar platinum-haired boy at the end of the hallway, she saw no qualms in approaching him, her search for water swiftly forgotten.

For some reason, now seemed like the perfect time to finally give Malfoy a piece of her damn mind.