ALOHOMORA | CEDRIC DIGGORY

3〝three〞

IT WAS DINNER TIME. CEDRIC Diggory sat in the Great Hall forking a kidney pie into his mouth. A mad discussion was going on to his right.

"What's she done now?" said Jaime Lannister.

Without asking, Cedric knew exactly which she his best friend and roommate was referring to.

Three weeks since the school term started and all he seemed to hear were rumors.

Rumors of her.

Rumors of Ellis Grindelwald.

Rumors that vexed the mind and shivered the spine; that froze the heart and chilled the blood.

Rumors that her eyes looked "so evil it was like staring straight at death"; that she'd cursed one of her roommates on her very first night just because; that she'd threatened to do the same to the rest of them should they not learn to not cross her path...

To that end, Cedric assumed he must be doing a sublime job. He hadn't actually seen her since the Sorting Ceremony—if seeing the top of her head was considered seeing her at all. Although, in all honesty, he didn't think he would recognize her even if he did. There were plenty of blondes at Hogwarts.

Nevertheless, for all the fear and dread they seemingly meant to instill, the rumours remained all anyone could talk about.

Margaery Tyrell, Podrick Payne, Samwell Tarly, and Jon Snow—the rest of Cedric's clique of friends—like Jaime, had given their attention to the group of first- and second-years next to them at the Hufflepuff table. Cedric followed suit.

"Knocked a classmate off his broom!" replied Ernie Macmillan.

"A Gryffindor," added Hannah Abbott.

"She doesn't like them, then?" chimed in Anthony Goldstein, who had popped over from the Ravenclaw table.

"Don't think that's it." A boy emerged trailing behind Anthony, very much a carbon copy, perhaps just slightly smaller—his little brother: Adrian Goldstein. "I heard Ginny Weasley was right in front of her. And she was fine."

"Don't you get it?" Zacharias Smith, who recently took it upon himself to disseminate—albeit discreetly—every piece information of Grindelwald he could lay his hands on, fact or fiction notwithstanding, looked across the table as if the news he was about to deliver should have been otherwise plainly obvious. "He's Muggle-born."

Susan Bones gave a little squeak; Hannah Abbott gasped; the Goldstein brothers hung their mouths open in little "O"s; Justin Finch-Fletchley dropped his knife; someone further along toppled their goblet; another choked.

Closer to Cedric, he could see Margaery biting her lower lip so as to keep herself from laughing. Podrick and Jon, both of whom were of Muggle parentage, exchanged raised eyebrows of doubt. Samwell had helped himself to another serving of sausages as though it was any other night. And Jaime, catching Cedric's eye, simply looked amused.

Nearby Hufflepuffs listened harder than ever.

"Weasley's pure-blood. So even if she was right in front of her, she couldn't touch her, could she?" said Zacharias, and a few of the first-years around him nodded as if in understanding. "It all makes sense. She's here to finish up the job."

"What job?" asked one of the first-years.

"To get rid of all Muggles and Muggle-borns," answered Zacharias. "To rid all non-magic blood from the wizarding world."