ALOHOMORA | CEDRIC DIGGORY

38〝thirty-eight〞

THERE WAS A SPURT OF gossip about another attack when the holidays ended. Everyone had begun the spring term with news that Hermione Granger of Gryffindor was missing from classes. Apparently, the second-year was very uptight about her education and would only be caught skiving off lessons "over her dead body." It didn't help matters that she was Muggle-born.

The only known fact seemed to be that she had been admitted to the Hospital Wing. For what exactly, however, nobody really knew. Her closest friends, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, were oddly tight-lipped about her condition, and not just to "outsiders" but members of their own House too—at least according to their classmate, Hannah Abbott.

"I've asked Lavender Brown," Hannah was heard whispering in the Hufflepuff common room one night, "but even she doesn't know—and they share a dorm!"

Zacharias Smith, one of many who trooped purposefully past the infirmary on a daily basis, surely in hopes to earn firsthand canards rather than owing to true concern, on the other hand, reported that the pair were spotted visiting her in the evenings. While Madam Pomfrey had—in light of all the unwanted callers—taken to curtaining up the place and barring unauthorized students from entry, so that no one had seen Granger in a fortnight since they returned to the castle, some people claimed that the girl's voice periodically carried out into the hall; others noted that her homework was being regularly collected and handed in by either Potter or Weasley.

All of these should have been plain indication that she wasn't Petrified and turned to stone. Yet, the rumors were hardly appeased, though they took a different course.

Theories flew about like untamed doxies: things about fur and whiskers (for some accounts insisted the observation of this before Madam Pomfrey had sealed the ward), and that she might have gotten in the way of a bad Transfiguration hex. Word that both Ellis and Granger were present in the school over the Christmas break had leaked too (Cedric had the nasty inkling—though no proof—that Roger Davies was behind this), which only exacerbated the situation.

Of course everyone was ready to pin the blame on her.

The girl who supposedly cursed her roommate on her first day; the girl who had "evil" eyes; the girl who shared a last name with the second most dangerous Dark wizard of all time.

Cedric wished he could care less.

It bothered him very much what everyone else was talking about, and even more so that he was still powerless to put a stop to it. Every day his temper was challenged, and with every waking moment, he grew increasingly resentful towards his rash promise to Ellis.

Why on earth did he ever agree to keep their friendship a secret?

They weren't even together together yet.

But how could he say no, when she had basically begged it of him?

She had reasoned that their unlikely association was bound to garner attention; attention she could do without—"I get plenty of that on my own, as it is," she said.

Her main argument, however, was that he didn't need her reputation tainting his pure, immaculate, "golden boy" one. There was no use explaining to her that he wasn't a golden boy, because it was irrelevant. Even if he wasn't—which she made him realize he kind of was—she didn't think anyone else deserved to be pegged to her disgraced image. Similarly, it was fruitless attempting to convince her that he wouldn't lose sleep over whatever was people's perception of him—that had always been none of his business and was going to stay that way.

"You say that now, but you've never been bullied. You think you know what it's like but you don't—you really don't. Indifference: it's easier said than done. I should know."

He could not, with certainty, dispute that. He was, after all—though he didn't like to acknowledge it—privileged. And he knew that was what she meant, even if only implicitly.

The only compromise she made was that if, perhaps, one day, at the mercy of Merlin, the accusations didn't follow her like a shadow, she would not refuse to reveal it. And as he passed her in corridors with nothing more than the most furtive of smiles, watched her fly under the guise that he was scouting Slytherin's training program, stole peeks at her from behind textbooks or library shelves; as the days stretched into weeks that he was unable to meet her anywhere else (the Room of Requirement and Kettleburn's magizoo included) for his absence would raise suspicion amongst his own friends he had had to deceive, Cedric couldn't pray harder for this day to come sooner rather than later.

So when February arrived, it was received with much pleasure for several reasons: First, it delivered a fully-restored Hermione Granger, who quelled all speculation with repeated reassurances that she merely suffered from a very severe case of the flu—otherwise known as pneumonia. Second, the weather was improving, and the sun that shone on Hogwarts seemed to lighten everyone's spirits too. Two Petrification-free months later, and with Mandrakes all but primed for fixing up a remedy, people were finally moving towards the view that the whole Chamber of Secrets snafu was in its closing stages.

Amongst those dead set on remaining grim and scaremongers were Ernie Macmillan, Zacharias Smith, and Peeves the poltergeist. They were, however, the minority, and as their focus had now shifted mostly onto Harry Potter, it no longer troubled Cedric.

And third, there was a Hogsmeade weekend scheduled just before Valentine's Day, which couldn't be more timely in Cedric's opinion. He had run low on Chocolate Frogs after sending Ellis another couple for her birthday (one white and one dark one this time), and though she seemed to like them, reckoned he ought to be seeking out more innovative gift ideas for the forthcoming special occasion.

On the morning of the fourteenth, after he had dropped off his present at the Owlery, Cedric got quite the shock as he entered the Great Hall.

"Good Merlin," muttered Jaime.

The room was so gaudily pink it was nauseating. The (heart-shaped) confetti rain only compounded the effect. Many boys wore faces of disgust that were more contorted than was custom. In contrast, the better part of the girls were alight with excitement; Margaery and Ellis were not amongst them though. Cedric had espied the latter looking quite as sickened by Lockhart's decorative choices, and felt eternally grateful he hadn't gone for anything too stereotypical.

Margaery's dread was understandable. What the clique found mysterious was that her popularity seemed to have soared right under their noses.

Lockhart's "cupids" burst into three consecutive periods and she had been brought five valentines by lunchtime, one apiece from: Barnabas Stinson, of course; Head Boy Marvin Eriksen; Cormac McClaggen, a third-year Gryffindor; Slytherin Keeper Miles Bletchley; and an unknown admirer (he or she didn't leave a name on the card).

Like assistants sifting through resumes, Samwell, Podrick, and Cedric examined the love letters over lunch. They could not wheedle any beneficial input out of Jon, who was acting more nonchalant than usual, but agreed that Marvin Eriksen's was the classiest and should be ahead in terms of consideration. Cedric also imagined Jaime would be in his element, and he sort of was. Though he wasn't so much as teasing her than questioning her about all these "lovers" she had gained all of a sudden.

"What can I say if they like me? If you have a problem with it, go take it out with them and get off my back, Lannister!" And she trudged off grumpily, casting them dirty looks as if they were all idiots.

"Girls." Jaime shook his head.

Two more valentines were delivered to Margaery during Double Charms—one from Taylor Boot of Ravenclaw, who shared the lesson with them and grew pinker than the Great Hall as the dressed-up dwarf sang out his valentine in the front of the entire class, Flitwick humming along to the tune; the other was unnamed. So when another "cupid" roved up to them as they were dismissed, Cedric did not expect the valentine to be for him.