▬▬▬▬▬ CHAPTER NINE ▬▬▬▬▬

WHEN ÉTIENNE LEFT TO GO talk to his sister, Esmerelda immediately headed for the east wing of the fifth floor. As she drew closer to her destination, she suddenly started to realize that Étienne was right. She could actually sense a strong concentration of ghosts from the depths of the east wing. How did he know that though? 

She found the ghosts in some abandoned gallery room that was about the size of four classrooms. They all seemed to stiffen in fear upon her entry. She tried to look as harmless as possible, which wasn't that hard since she literally looked like a regular fifteen year old school-girl, but the ghosts seemed to be able to tell that she was more than that just from her presence alone. 

She quietly scanned the room, seeing familiar ghosts that she used to be close with. Moaning Myrtle had practically thrown herself into the back of the room, the Bloody Baron stayed still, and the Fat Friar was looking at her with wide-eyed terror—ouch. 

"I'm not here to hurt anyone," she said carefully and slowly as if she were talking to a bunch of frightened animals, which she might as well have been. "Okay? I only came here to check up on you." 

The Bloody Baron was the first to respond to her. 

"What have you done to yourself?" He croaked, gliding the front of the huddle, but also making sure to keep his distance from her. "I've told you before... you were getting stronger, but now it has come to the point where it is stifling." 

"You're darker now, Esmerelda," the Fat Friar said weakly. "We told you to stay away from that Dark Magic..." 

She shook her head. "It's not Dark Magic. I'm not a Dark Witch or anything like that." 

"Then what's wrong with you?" Myrtle demanded.

"I haven't done anything different... except go to the Underworld." She answered, her eye critically taking in every shift of expression. Judging by how everyone became ten times more afraid than before, they knew exactly what the Underworld was. "So you've all heard of it." 

"When I died..." Helena Ravenclaw began. "I was sent to this odd place... They called it the Underworld. It horrified me, so I left and returned to Hogwarts... How... how exactly do you know of that place? You are still part of the living so how...?"

"You don't need to worry about that," she deflected.

"You're not... not going to take us back there, are you?" Nearly Headless Nick asked fearfully. 

"No," she answered honestly. "You may be dead, but you still fall under my mother's domain." Other ghosts would have to worry about being sent back to the Underworld, but ghosts that came from her mother's world were safe. 

"What are you talking about?" He asked in utter confusion. 

"Forget it," she said swiftly. "Look, you guys hiding away is causing a huge fuss everywhere. Especially you, Professor Binns, since you're a teacher and all. I get that you're all scared, but you all need to understand that I want nothing from you and will not hurt you. That weird power surge you've been feeling from me since last year was caused by my visit to the Underworld."

"But it is different now," the Bloody Baron insisted. "As if it has doubled..." 

Doubled? She thought with furrowed brows. She hadn't really done anything different though, but she had been visiting the Underworld more often, grew more used to it and more attuned to the dead and such. Was that what he was talking about? 

"I don't really know what you're talking about," she said tiredly. "All you need to know is that I'm no harm to any of you. So can you guys please just... go back?" 

Someone in the back whimpered, and she briefly wondered if she was somehow ordering them on what to do rather than letting them actually have the freedom to choose. 

"Um... please?" She added with uncertainty. 

They all fled from the gallery room, which she took as a... good(?) sign. 

As she walked back to the ground floor to meet up with Étienne, she couldn't help but think back to what the Bloody Baron had said... apparently the powerful aura she was emitting had doubled... but how could that be when she hadn't done anything different? 

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

Things went back to normal for the next few days. The ghosts had resumed milling around the castle and Professor Binns went back to work (much to the dismay to the students). They were still wary of course, but at least they were no longer trying to hide. She wanted to introduce Étienne to them since he Beauxbatons didn't have any ghosts, but the ghosts seemed to flee whenever they caught sight of them. 

They were still scared shitless of her, but oh well. There was nothing she could do about it at this point. 

Right now, she was more concerned with the Daily Prophet article Étienne was showing her. It was the weirdest passage she had ever seen about Harry and the second she saw the first sentence, she knew everything else that was written there was fake. Because there was no way Harry would ever say something like this: 

"I suppose I get my strength from my parents. I know they'd be very proud of me if they could see me now... Yes, sometimes at night I still cry about them, I'm not ashamed to admit it... I know nothing will hurt me during the tournament, because they're watching over me..."

Harry has at last found love at Hogwarts. His close friend, Colin Creevey, says that Harry is rarely seen out of the company of one Hermione Granger, a stunningly pretty Muggle-born girl who, like Harry, is one of the top students in the school.

"What the heck," Esmerelda said blankly. "The only thing the author got right was when she called Hermione 'stunningly pretty' and one of the top students in Hogwarts. Everything else isn't true." 

"He does not seem like a... crier." Étienne agreed, pausing only when he was trying to find the right English word to say. 

"He really isn't. He's more prone to getting angry," she grimaced. "Like... really angry." He kind of reminded her of the Ares kids, who were always known to be volatile. The only difference was that when the Ares kids got angry, they got violent whereas Harry just screamed... a lot. Now that she thought about it, he sure had some great lungs on him. 

"Cedric has not been mentioned," he informed her, frowning slightly. Much to Esmerelda's joy, Cedric and Étienne got along pretty well with each other, and she was happy that Étienne was slowly developing into a more open person (he still clung onto her though, but whatever). 

Esmerelda scanned the article again and found herself realizing that he was right. What was supposed to be a report about the Triwizard tournament seemed more like a whole newspaper about Harry instead. Much of the front page had been given over to a picture of Harry; the article (continuing on pages two, six, and seven) had been all about him, the names of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang champions (misspelled) had been squashed into the last line of the article, and Cedric hadn't been mentioned at all.

Speaking of Cedric, he had finally arrived at the quad area where they both were. The smile on his face was immediately wiped away the second he saw the article. 

"I see you've done your reading," he said tightly, plopping down across from them. 

"Yeah whoever wrote all this should get fired," Esmerelda said. "Didn't cover the topic at all." 

"The author is Rita Skeeter. She was the one who wrote about the petrification attacks and your kidnapping," Cedric told her. 

"Er... what?" Étienne asked, looking slightly alarmed. 

"Nothing to worry about," she assured him before turning to Cedric. "So have you apologized to Harry yet?" 

He made a face. "Um... no. Haven't got the time." 

She gave him an unimpressed look. 

"No, honest!" He tried to explain himself. "I tried to speak with him before our wand weighing, but then Rita Skeeter came in and took Harry before I could even get a word in. And I haven't found the time to look for him since then..."

"Well there's your chance," she said, jutting her chin behind him. Harry could be seen walking down the hallway alone, trying to ignore the jeers and taunts thrown at him. "He's right there." 

Cedric took a deep breath. "Alright... here goes nothing." He started to approach them only to freeze up when Cho came into the scene and retrieved a fallen quill for Harry. Cedric watched them closely, while Esmerelda and Étienne watched him watching them closely. 

"Harry's blushing," Étienne noted. 

"Yeah..." She said slowly, taking in the beet red flush over Harry's face. Realization struck her. "Oh my gods... He likes her...! Oh man, poor Harry." 

"Why is that a bad thing?" He asked. 

"Because Cedric and Cho are dating. Harry's basically pining after a taken girl. Man, that's gotta suck. Love triangles are so complicated." She sighed, shaking her head in sympathy. 

"...Love triangles?" He repeated curiously. 

She blinked. "Oh um... I don't know how to say it in French, but it's basically when two people fall in love with the same person. Sometimes that third person loves only one of them or loves them both." 

"Ohhhh," he said, nodding in understanding. "So like... a ménage à trois?" 

She nearly choked on her spit and he busted out laughing. 

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," he snickered. "I know what a love triangle is. You should've seen how red your face turned. You were almost as bad as Harry." 

"Dude!" She hissed, her face hot. "Now I have to go wash out my ears because of you! Urgh!" 

"I'm sorry," he chuckled, not feeling very sorry at all. "I couldn't help myself—" And then he froze up, spying something over her shoulder. Whatever he saw caused his whole mood to darken. 

Frowning, she turned around. All she saw was the sight of blonde curls disappearing from around the corner. Bernadine? She wondered. When she looked back at Étienne, he was smiling widely. 

"Cedric looks busy dealing with the love triangle. How about you take me to the owlry? I've always wanted to meet your super aggressive owl." He said forcefully, then yanked her up to her feet. 

She sent him a weird look. "Um—" 

"—Let's go," he said enthusiastically, then began dragging her away. 

"Was that Bernadine back there?" She asked once they made it outside of the castle. It was snowing in Scotland now and the two of them weren't exactly wearing clothes suited for that weather. While she knew she would be okay, she was more concerned with him since his clothes were better off in Hogwarts warmer interior. 

"Y-y-yes," he replied, teeth already chattering. 

"Do you really want to meet my owl?" She asked knowingly. 

"'C-course I do," he lied. 

She snorted. "Right. Come on, let's just go back to the castle where it's warmer." 

"No, no, no! I'm fine, really!" He insisted. "I just really want to meet your owl—you call him Ethan Jr, right?" 

She winced at the mention of his name but pretended to act normal. "You just want to avoid your sister." She pointed out. 

Now it was his turn to wince. 

Bingo, she thought. 

"I don't want to pry, but was the news she gave you that bad?" She asked in concern. 

"News?" He echoed. 

"Yeah, last week she wanted to speak to you? Something about a letter your family sent?" She reminded him. 

He blinked once, then twice, and seemed to realize what she was talking about. "Oh, that. Um, everything's fine with my family. It's just... me and Bernadine don't get along pretty well... Or actually, me and whole family don't get along." 

She thought back to what her father had told her about illegitimate children and remembered how cold his family members seemed to be around him—all save for his father. 

"Yeah..." She trailed off. "I kinda got that vibe when I saw you guys at the Top Box." 

"Then you saw the awkward part when my father—?"

"Yep." 

He groaned. "Ugh. He could be so embarrassing sometimes... but I appreciate him. He's the only one in that house that seems to like me... Other than the house elves of course. They've always adored me and they were practically the only ones to raise me when my father was too busy." 

"You really don't think your family likes you?" She frowned. 

He scowled. "I know they don't. They make it very obvious how they feel about me. I could hardly blame them, though. I was the one who ruined their 'picture perfect family image', after all." 

"That's not your fault at all." She told him. 

"I know. My dad was the one who had the affair but... I can't exactly get angry at him, can I? He's the only one who cares about me in my family... And I haven't got a clue on who my mum is. Other than the fact that my dad met her while on a vacation over seas and that her name was Tricia. My step-mother thinks she might be a muggle or something. She's still furious about it." 

"She's anti-muggle?" She asked, clearly displeased. 

"Very much," he nodded. 

"Are you?" She asked pointedly. Her father had warned her that the Rosiers were a family almost as dark as the Blacks, but she had been hoping that maybe Étienne would be the white sheep of the family like Sirius had been. 

"No," he answered simply, and her shoulders relaxed. "I don't really know about my siblings... but it's weird. My father, I believe, used to be against muggles and muggle-borns but... he's changed. At least, that's what my step-mother used to say. She always complained about how different he is now. As I grew up, he always made sure to tell me and my siblings that we weren't that different from muggles. He didn't want us to fall for any blood supremacy beliefs." 

"That's... really good of him to do," she said, trying to hide her surprise. Well that was certainly not what she was expecting to hear, but it was a good sort of news anyways. 

He shrugged, and Esmerelda was suddenly acutely aware of these shadows falling over their heads. "Well, I guess, but—"

"—Watch out!" She yelled, and tackled him out of the way. She heard several shick! sounds followed by the sound of something shattering. She scrambled off of Étienne and whirled around to face whatever was about to fall on them. 

On the snow where they once stood was a pile of broken icicles. Large and pointy enough to definitely hurt someone—maybe even kill if they were dropped from somewhere high. She looked above and sure enough, the large tree they were walking by had branches full of icicles. 

"Those icicles are huge..." Étienne gulped as he stood beside her, surveying the damage. "Did you get hit?" 

"No," she answered, wondering whether those icicles had been magically enlarged or if they were naturally that big. She pushed that thought to the back of her head and looked back at Étienne, who was busy shaking the snow off of him. He was a lot paler now, and shivering crazier than ever. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," he said shakily. "Thank you for that..." His eyes kept darting over to the icicles and than back to her. He seemed scared about something. 

"Étienne, are you sure you're okay?" She asked worriedly. 

"I didn't..." He breathed out. "I didn't do that... I didn't." 

She wondered if he was trying to convince her or himself. "Of course you didn't, Étienne. I know you wouldn't try to hurt me or yourself. It was probably an accident or something." 

He was hugging himself now, his frightened eyes unable to look away from what could've killed them. "R-r-right." 

"You're turning blue, let's just head back to the castle, okay?" She had to reach out and gently tug him forward when he didn't move. 

"Okay," he mumbled in agreement, shooting the pile of broken icicles one last look before they set off for the castle. 

A fuming figure watched as they walked away. Once they were completely gone, he let out an angry cry and kicked at the tree with his wooden leg. 

"Bloody hell!" He shrieked into the air. Another failed attempt. 

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

Étienne had remained jittery about the incident up until the first Hogsmeade weekend, where Esmerelda really wanted to show him around. Her excitement must have been contagious because now he was getting hyped up for the visit too. 

"And this is the Three Broomsticks!" She said, pushing through the old doors. The pub was packed as usual. While she was waiting for her order, she spotted Ron sitting at a table with Fred, George, and Lee. Harry was nowhere in sight, but she did spy Hermione sitting at a table alone. 

"You are lucky," Étienne said enviously. "We have no wizarding village near Beauxbatons, but we are stationed near the muggle side of Nice. On the other side, we've got Monaco. Italy is close by too. But some of us are unsure of how to behave around so many muggles so we don't venture too far away." 

"Gods, that's so cool," she said, awed. "In America, it takes hours just to get out of one city. Let alone reach a whole new state..." She would never stop being amazed by how close the European countries were and how easy and quick it was to get to one country to another. 

"Is it true you have to wait until you're twenty-one to legally drink?" He asked curiously. 

"Yeah, not like I can blame the guys who made that decision. Americans are crazy enough sober. How about in France?" 

"Eighteen, like most European countries. Though we can still drink when we're sixteen as long as we have an adult family member around." 

She gasped in envy.

"Two butterbeers!" The barmaid said, sliding two glasses at them, covered in the sweet golden beverage. 

They thanked her and looked around for a place to sit. Since there was no other free space, Esmerelda decided to just sit with Hermione.

"Is it really okay?" Étienne asked nervously. 

"Hermione's nice! No need to worry!" She reassured, then dragged him over to the bushy-haired girl. 

"Hey Hermione, mind if we sit here? There's no other vacancy around," Esmerelda said brightly as she prepared to sit down on a chair that was already pulled back. 

Hermione let out a panicked squeak, which Esmerelda mimicked when something brushed up against her from behind. She whirled around and nearly whipped out her knife. 

"What was that?!" She freaked out. 

"What was what?!" Étienne asked in alarm. 

"Something just touched me!" 

"I didn't touch you! I was just trying to stand and—it was an accident! I'm sorry!" Harry's head appeared in mid-air before disappearing again. Étienne let out a frightened yelp and nearly fainted. 

"Harry!" Hermione groaned. "Someone could've seen you!" 

"It was an accident!" Harry hissed, sounding like he wanted to shoot himself. 

"Oh my gods," Esmerelda breathed out, collapsing on another chair (that was thankfully devoid of any invisible boys this time). "Dude, I was gonna shank you." 

"I'm sorry..." He mumbled miserably. 

"How—how is he invisible?" Étienne stuttered, still gawking at the chair that Harry was supposedly occupying. 

"Invisibility cloak. Family heirloom," Harry answered. "Hey hold on... Aren't you one of the Beauxbatons students?" 

"Yes. My name is Étienne Rosier, nice to meet you—ah wait..." He had brought his hand up for a handshake but realized his mistake and lowered it. He cleared his throat and turned to Hermione. "And you are?" 

"Hermione Granger," she introduced herself primly. "It's nice to meet you as well. I'm sorry for Harry startling you." 

"It was an accident..." Came the bitter grumble. 

"How do you two feel about house elf rights?" Hermione asked automatically, a weird glint in her eye. 

"House elf rights?" Étienne tilted his head like a confused puppy. 

"Exactly what I said," she then whipped out a huge notebook and started flipping through the pages. Esmerelda could see a whole bunch of notes and diagrams that was making her head spin. "House elves are suffering a huge injustice by the wizarding world and I aim to put an end to it through S.P.E.W., an organization I recently created. It stands for Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. Want to join? I've got badges. It only costs two sickles." 

"Uh." Poor Étienne didn't know what to say. 

Esmerelda stared dumbly at her. She lost her at the acronym. "Hold on, it's called 'spew'?" 

"S.P.E.W." Hermione corrected. "Honestly, first Ron, and then you..." 

"What do you mean house elves are facing a huge injustice?" Étienne asked curiously. 

At the right, Harry could be heard moaning in despair. 

"They're slaves!" Hermione fumed passionately. "They get no wages, no pensions, no vacation time, nothing! And they're treated horribly by their owners! Have you got any house elves?" She asked him suspiciously. 

Étienne didn't answer. Instead, he seemed lost in thought, his face going whiter as the second passed. He looked sickened by something. 

Esmerelda frowned in concern. "Étienne?" 

He quickly snapped out of it and cleared his throat. "S-sorry, I was just... about your organization... while I do agree that house elves should—should be treated better, they won't be happy about getting paid or those other things you listed out. They like their jobs, you see... They're very devoted to their masters..." He trailed off. 

Esmerelda noticed the way his fists were tightly balled up on his lap. 

"That's because they don't know any better," Hermione argued. "They've been brainwashed into thinking that how they're being treated is normal! It's sicking!" 

"Well... I guess you're right," he said, defeated. She looked triumphant at that.

"You know, maybe I should try and get some of the villagers involved in S.P.E.W.," she added thoughtfully, looking around the pub.

"Yeah, right," Harry said. The butterbeer in front of him disappeared as he brought it under the cloak for a sip. "Hermione, when are you going to give up on this spew stuff?"

"When house-elves have decent wages and working conditions!" She hissed back. "You know, I'm starting to think it's time for more direct action. I wonder how you get into the school kitchens?"

Esmerelda shrunk a little, hoping she wouldn't ask her. 

"No idea, ask Fred and George," Harry replied, shrugging (though they couldn't see it). 

Hermione lapsed into thoughtful silence, while Esmerelda drank her butterbeer, watching the people in the pub. All of them looked cheerful and relaxed. Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbot were swapping Chocolate Frog cards at a nearby table; both of them sporting Support Cedric Diggory! badges on their cloaks much to her great disappointment. Right over by the door she saw Cho and a large group of her Ravenclaw friends. She wasn't wearing a Cedric badge though.

Either she and Cedric were arguing, or Cho wasn't wearing them because they would switch to say Potter Stinks!. Hopefully it was the latter. Esmerelda wouldn't want Cedric to have to deal with relationship problems while also tackling the Triwizard Tournament. 

"Look, it's Hagrid!" Hermione exclaimed. 

The back of Hagrid's enormous shaggy head emerged over the crowd. He was bending low in order to talk to Professor Moody. Hagrid had brought an enormous tankard with him, but Moody was drinking from his hip flask—as he always did. Moody had told them all during their last Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson that he preferred to prepare his own food and drink at all times, as it was so easy for Dark wizards to poison an unattended cup.

"He's massive," Étienne marveled, having never seen him before until now. "Is he as tall as Madame Maxime?" 

"Most likely." Esmerelda muttered. "I wouldn't be surprised if they were long lost siblings or something." 

Suddenly, Moody looked over at their direction. He spotted Esmerelda, but then his eyes trailed over to the empty seat that Harry was actually sitting on. He tapped Hagrid in the small of the back (being unable to reach his shoulder), muttered something to him, and then the pair of them made their way back across the pub toward their table.

"All right, Hermione?" Hagrid said loudly.

"Hello," said Hermione, smiling back.

"Esmerelda," he greeted. Then glanced over at Étienne. "Er... you are?" 

"Étienne Rosier. I'm one of Madame Maxime's students." He introduced himself politely. 

Hagrid's eyes seemed to pop out in shock before he schooled his expression. Through his facial hair, Esmerelda could see that he was blushing for some reason. 

Moody limped around the table and bent down. At first, Esmerelda thought he was reading the S.P.E.W. notebook, until he muttered, "Nice cloak, Potter."

Harry's surprised voice came: "Can your eye—I mean, can you—?"

"Yeah, it can see through Invisibility Cloaks," Moody said quietly. "And it's come in useful at times, I can tell you."

He then straightened up and looked over at Esmerelda and Étienne. Thankfully, he didn't seem hostile to Étienne, meaning that neither of his parents were Death Eaters who were let off easily (but then again, they were from France, so who knew). 

"Black," he said with a horribly forced grin. "Nice to see you here. You enjoying that Butterbeer of yours?" 

That was a weird question. 

"Um... yeah...?" She answered awkwardly. She really didn't know how else to answer that. 

"Good, good. Don't waste it. I know Rosmerta, she wouldn't want her drinks to go to waste." He advised her. 

"Right..." She trailed off. She exchanged a weird look with Étienne.

Hagrid had just finished up with his secret conversation with Harry and straightened up. He then said loudly, "Nice ter see yeh, kids!" He winked, and departed. Moody followed him.

"That was weird," Étienne commented, staring back at where Moody had left. 

"Yeah. Our DADA professors are always... odd. Except for third year when we had Professor Lupin. He was the best." She smiled wistfully. 

She was just about to reach out and finish whatever was left of her butterbeer when another group of students entered the Three Broomsticks. It was Bernadine and some friends of hers. 

"Nope," Étienne said, and immediately stood up. 

"Oh come on," Esmerelda groaned, looking up at him pleadingly. "Étienne, please just stay." 

He shook his head. Meanwhile, Hermione and Harry were staring at them in confusion. 

"She'll leave," she told him. 

"Not with her friends with her. She'll just spend the entire time death glaring me. I'm not going to sit here and deal with that. I'm leaving." He said firmly. 

"Oh my gods, fine," she stood up too. Her butterbeer was nearly finished anyways. Plus, she was full. She looked back at Hermione and Harry and said, "Sorry guys, we'll be taking our leave for now." 

"Er, goodbye then?" Hermione said, clearly confused with Étienne's insistence to leave. Harry mumbled his goodbye too and the two of them left the pub. 

"I didn't even get to finish my butterbeer," she quietly whined to him as they exited the pub. 

A certain DADA professor overheard her and whirled around, his eyes bulging wide with rage. He would've screamed in fury if it hadn't been for all the witnesses around him. Instead, he stomped off. 

"You were nearly done with it anyways," Étienne shrugged. 

"You really need to resolve your issues with your half-siblings," she sighed. "Trust me, I have issues with my own half-siblings too. We kind of tried to kill each other a couple of times and I'm currently teaching my younger half-sister the best way to kill them. Family feuds aren't pretty, Étienne and I really don't want you and your half-siblings to end up like mine." 

He looked at her in great concern. "You're... you're kidding about the killing part, right?" 

"Sure." She lied. 

"How many siblings do you have exactly?" He asked. 

"There's about eighteen of us now. We all got the same mom," she answered casually. 

Étienne slipped on the snow and fell on butt. 

"E-eighteen?!"

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

The next day, just a few weeks before the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, a terrified looking Cedric came rushing over to her as she entered the common room in hopes of finishing some homework before grabbing some dinner at the Great Hall. 

"Essie," Cedric hissed, grabbing her and taking her to some secluded corner of the room. 

"Yeah?" She said, yawning. 

"I know what the first task will be." He said, terror written all over his face. 

"Oh good—"

"—Harry warned me about them this morning." He interrupted her. 

Esmerelda was pleased to hear that. "That's great! I'm glad you guys are getting along better—"

"—Dragons." He cut her off once again. 

"What?" 

"The first task. They're having face off against a bunch of dragons. I have three weeks left to live before I face my doom."

But Esmerelda didn't seem to hear that last part. Her eyes were glittering. "Dragons?!" She squealed. "Oh my gods, that's so cool!" 

"No! It isn't!" He objected. "I have to go against them!"

"Oh," she said nonchalantly. "Okay." 

He gaped at her. "Okay?! I'm about to get burnt to a crisp by a dragon in front of hundreds of people and all you can say is 'okay'?!" 

"I don't get what the big deal is," she sighed. "All you have to do is kill it." 

His jaw dropped down even further if such a thing was possible. "Kill the—?! I can't kill a dragon!" 

"Not with that negative attitude, you can't," she snorted. "Now why exactly are you telling me all this anyways?" 

He inhaled deeply, the panic in his eyes only growing more evident. "I need your help." 

"My help with what?" She asked curiously. 

"With everything, to be honest. I didn't realize how hard it'd be until Harry gave me the warning about the dragons. There's no way I can handle all of this on my own, so... so I'm asking if you could train me." 

She stared at him in stunned silence. "You... you want me to train you?" 

"Yes, and not just like the tutoring you gave me last year. I want actual proper training, like practice duels and all that." He answered seriously. "So will you help me out?" 

"Cedric..." She said slowly. "If I agree to train you, you better give it your all. I won't be happy if you decide to give up halfway." 

"I can handle it," Cedric said firmly. 

"Okay then," she breathed out, his reply bringing a smile to her face. "I'll help you train." 

— author's note —

Assassination attempt #1: Pushing her down the stairs (failed)

Assassination attempt #2: Killing Curse (failed)

Assassination attempt #3: Hexed letter (failed)

Assassination attempt #4: Imperius Curse (failed)

Assassination attempt #5: Dropping sharp icicles on her head (failed)

Assassination attempt #6: Poisoned drink (failed)

"Moody" when he fails to kill Essie AGAIN:

Essie when she finally becomes of legal drinking age in the UK: