𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 ; 𝘤𝘦𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘤 𝘥𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘺

nine

09 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭

          𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆, and the mild, autumn breezes turning to piercing swirls of numbness, the long anticipated day had arrived—anticipated for some people at least, I wasn't feeling very excited myself.

Because, today's date was October 30th; the day where the foreign schools would be arriving, and not to forget, the beginning of the Triwizard Tournament.

After suffering through a dull Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson—cut thirty minutes short—I had dragged my feet to my dorm, plopped my armful of books onto my bed, and trudged through the excited and filled corridors until the entrance hall was reached.

The Heads of Houses were frantically ordering directions, Professor Sprout examining through the crowd of dark robes, searching for the yellow patch that resembled Hufflepuff. 

And soon, the lines of students were established, and we all fled down the stairs until all the students of Hogwarts were settled into orderly rows in front of the castle.

Claire, from aside me, was bickering about her hair that Professor Sprout had ordered her fix— a disheveled ponytail seemingly looked sloppy.

I issued a half-hearted agreement, until the conversation that floated around me drifted towards the topic of the freezing weather, then to the tournament.

I fumbled around with the hem on my sleeve, heart hammering as dread bloomed merely from one, simple word.

It had been like for a few days now—I felt as ordinary as I normally would, that is until there was any indication towards the tournament, then the anxiety came clawing back at me, tearing apart any logic I had left inside me.

Because, it really didn't make sense. Why did I seem to care for Cedric in the slightest? When I knew for a fact that the only time I ever crossed his mind was when he was falling behind in Herbology class.

It was a question I had been asking myself at every sunrise and at every nightfall—never receiving a clear enough answer to satisfy my curiosity, so it remained unanswered for now.

I forced my focus to the sun, it was quickly plunging past the distant mountains, leaving iridescent streaks of gold and flushed pinks lingering behind.

I wasn't paying much attention to anything other than the horizon that was blazed with liveliness, and a rosy cheeked face that was just barely in my view, though it was all I could focus on for a moment.

Cedric was nervous; I could tell. The way his gaze kept faltering down to his neatly tied shoes after speaking to a neighboring Hufflepuff, and the way that the ends of his eyebrows were arched down, easily gave him away—at least not to a careless eye.

I looked back to the view as minutes trickled by slowly, with still no appearances from Beauxbatons or Durmstrang.

The entire school, situated on the trimmed lawn with impatient expressions resting on most faces—an alluring look on mine, still occupied by the falling sun—was well enough to constitute this as an act of idiocy.

We were awaiting the arrival of schools, when it was nearly wintertime and the bitter air was turning everyones cheeks ruby red. I really wished I had a thick jumper wrapped around my shuddering arms or even just a warning that we would be outside watching nothing but the leaves blow in the wind for what seemed like hours upon end.

My gaze trailed off of the blend of hues for a quick moment, glancing to the left to check the status of the front gates—which were still locked.

But Cedric happened to be looking the opposite direction, our gazes unintentionally crossing, then followed by eyes connecting.