Chapter 47

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"Have you seen this shit?"

Ophelia looked up from the essay she was writing and took out her earbuds, furrowing her eyebrows at the piece of newspaper Luca was waving in her face. "Er...no? What is it?"

"The Daily Prophet," Luca said angrily, taking a seat across her in the Great Hall. "by Rita Skeeter."

Now that she cared to look around, every other house table apart from Gryffindor's looked to be gossiping about something—and quite angrily, she added. "So, what is it?"

Luca shoved the newspaper in her hands, crossing his arms while nodding to the paper. "Take a look for yourself—page 5."

Ophelia opened up the wizarding newspaper, flipping through the pages until she reached the page that had the words "The Triwizard Tournament" flashed in big bold word. She scanned the page, and there wasn't a single word that mentioned Cedric, but a whole paragraph about how Harry cries himself to sleep. "Merlin!" she exclaims, throwing the newspaper back at Luca. "Rita Skeeter is such a bitch—this is all fake news, too."

"I know," Luca agreed. "Do you reckon Ced has seen it?"

"I have...they forgot to mention me..." Cedric muttered, slipping right next to Ophelia.

"Incendio!" Ophelia muttered, setting the newspaper on fire in the middle of the great hall until it burned out. "There," she said with a content smile. "Much better."

Luca still looked upset, and as did everyone else. "How could they forget to mention Cedric? A few lovely lines about Krum and Fleur, a whole ass paragraph about Potter and his girlfriend—I bet the young Weasley boy would absolutely love that—but not a peep about Ced. I'd better have a talk with this Skeeter bitch!" 

"Let's drop it," Ophelia said softly, resting her head on Cedric's shoulder.

Luca's expression softened, but still looked mad, and Ophelia didn't blame him—she was fuming on the inside too. "Yeah," he said dejectedly. "Sorry."

"It's alright," Cedric spoke up. "I don't really mind."

"Beep! Beep!" Luca began making an odd noise, sticking his arm out in all different directions. 

"Er..."

Luca's hand neared Cedric and the beeping noise he was making began speeding up, then abruptly dropped his arm. "Sorry, I was using a bullshit detector."

"Nice one," Ophelia laughed, fist bumping Luca.

Cedric too cracked a smile, shaking his head as he looked at his friends. "I've got to get myself some new friends—bloody lunatics."

"That's it," Ophelia dropped her mouth open dramatically, inching further away from Cedric, raising her arm to point at Cedric accusingly. "You're sleeping on the couch for a week."

Cedric stared at her blankly, shaking his head again. "We don't live in a house together?"

"Not yet," Ophelia winked.

"Uh...huh?"

"I'm joking, Diggory," Ophelia said, amused at his pink cheeks. "We're only 17, it's too early to be thinking about this stuff."

Cedric fumbled with his book bag in his lap and looked down. "Er...yeah, of course."

Luca knowingly smirked at Cedric and stood up abruptly, hopping over the table and grabbed both of them by their hoods. "C'mon, let's go play a game of quidditch." when Ophelia was about to protest—she still had her transfiguration essay to write—Luca sent her a pointed look as if to say, "to get his mind of the stupid article, if you don't follow," and that was all it took for Ophelia to stuff the crumpled up of parchment into her bag.

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