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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐊

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The champion's tent was filled with anxious energy as I slipped inside, pushing past the flap. Cedric stood near a table, his face drawn in quiet concentration. When he saw me, his expression softened into a small, reassuring smile.

"Zelda," he said, his voice a little tight but warm. "What are you doing here?"

"Checkin' in," I replied, stepping closer. "Someone has to make sure yer not about to pass out from stress."

He chuckled, but it was faint. "I'm alright. I think."

"Liar," I teased, tugging lightly at his sleeve. "Yer allowed to admit yer freakin' out a bit."

He smiled more genuinely, shaking his head. "Maybe just a little."

I opened my arms, and he didn't hesitate, leaning in for a quick but tight hug. "Yer going to be brilliant," I murmured. "Ye always are."

"Thanks," he said quietly, and I could hear the gratitude in his voice. "That helps."

We pulled apart, and I was about to crack a joke when the sound of someone clearing their throat made me freeze. The flap of the tent swayed as none other than Rita Skeeter strutted in, her Quick-Quotes Quill already scratching furiously on the parchment hovering beside her.

"Well, well," she drawled, her voice syrupy with faux delight. "What a heartwarming scene. The Hogwarts champion being cheered on by...what shall I call you? His steadfast companion? Or perhaps something more romantic?"

I tensed, crossing my arms. "Friend," I said firmly, my tone icy. "And what are ye doing here?"

"Zelda," Cedric warned.

"Ah, Zelda Burbage," Rita said with a smirk, adjusting her garish jeweled glasses as her quill darted around. "Editor of The Owl Post, aren't you? Such an... earnest little publication. Delightful, really, how you're trying to emulate true journalism."

I felt a surge of irritation but kept my face neutral. "We tell the truth, which I'm sure is a foreign concept to ye."

Her smile didn't waver, but I could see the flash of annoyance in her eyes. "Truth is subjective, dear. It's all about the angle, the story. Surely you know that."

Cedric stepped in, his hand lightly touching my shoulder in a calming gesture. "Rita," he said diplomatically, though his voice had an edge. "Now's really not the time. I need a moment to focus."

"Of course, of course," she said sweetly, though the look she shot me was dripping with condescension. "Far be it from me to interrupt such a pivotal moment. Best of luck, Cedric." She turned back to me, her quill still scribbling furiously. "And do let me know if The Owl Post needs any tips on reaching a wider audience. I'd be happy to offer my expertise."

She swept away before I could retort, leaving me seething. "She's insufferable," I muttered, glaring at her.

Cedric gave a low chuckle, shaking his head. "She's... persistent."

"She's a menace," I shot back. "Next time, I'm hexin' that quill."

He laughed at that, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Thanks for coming, Zelda. Really."

I looked up at him, my irritation softening into determination. "Ye've got this, Ced. Show them why yer the Hogwarts champion."

He nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips, though I could see the tension lingering in his eyes. Before I could say anything else, a deafening roar shattered the relative quiet, and my head whipped toward the sound. My stomach flipped.

"Is that—?"

"Dragons," Cedric confirmed, his tone steady, though his jaw tightened as he glanced toward the sound.

I opened my mouth to say something—anything—but movement near the edge of the tent caught our attention. There she was again, hovering near Harry and Hermione. Her enchanted quill was darting across the parchment, no doubt scrawling something sensationally vile.

Cedric and I exchanged a glance, and I didn't need words to know we were on the same page. My arms crossed over my chest, my brows furrowing as we moved closer. If Rita Skeeter wanted to cause trouble, she'd have to go through me first.

"You have no business here," came a deep, accented voice.

I turned to see Viktor Krum as he stepped forward. His expression was stony, his dark eyes fixed on Rita like she was a Bludger he was ready to knock out of the tent.

"This tent is for champions... and friends," he added with a sharp edge to his voice.

For the first time since meeting him, I found myself liking Viktor Krum. Maybe I'd been too quick to judge. Aidan Lynch was still the best Seeker, though.

Rita faltered, momentarily thrown off by the collective hostility directed at her. "No matter," she finally said, recovering her composure with a sniff. Her quill swiped across Viktor's cheek in one last flourish, as if mocking him. "We've got what we wanted."

With a sharp turn, she marched out, her photographer snapping one final photo of us before scurrying after her.

"Cunt," I muttered.

The moment was interrupted by the tent flap opening to reveal Professor Dumbledore. Behind him were Barty Crouch and the other school headmasters.

"Good day, champions," Dumbledore greeted warmly, his eyes sweeping over the group before motioning for us to gather. "Now, gather round, please."

Cedric shot me a quick, reassuring look as he moved into the circle with the others.

"You've waited, you've wondered, and at last, the moment has arrived," Dumbledore began, his voice filling the tent. "The moment only four of you can fully appreciate."

He trailed off mid-sentence, his sharp gaze landing on Hermione and me.

"What are you doing here, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked, his tone polite but pointed. Then his piercing eyes shifted to me. "And you, Miss Burbage?"

"Oh, um," Hermione stammered, her cheeks flushing as she fumbled for an explanation.

I grabbed her arm lightly, offering an apologetic smile to Dumbledore. "We were just leaving, Professor. Sorry for the intrusion."

Before he could say more, I guided Hermione toward the exit, glancing back over my shoulder.

"Break a leg," I whispered to Cedric, giving him a small, encouraging nod before slipping out of the tent.

✦

The stands were alive with a sea of waving banners and roaring voices. I stood sandwiched between Lottie and Elsie, my hands gripping the wood railing in front of us as we leaned forward, scanning the arena below. Beside me, Lottie waved a small yellow-and-black flag, the badger emblem of Hufflepuff fluttering in the crisp air.

"This is going to be epic," Lottie said, practically bouncing on her toes.

"I just hope Cedric doesn't get burned to a crisp," Elsie muttered, her arms crossed tightly as if she could shield herself from the chill—or the tension.

Bellamy, leaning casually against the rail on my other side, smirked. "Cedric's got this. If anyone can handle a dragon, it's him."

I smiled at that, though my stomach was knotted with nerves. 

The crowd suddenly erupted into cheers, and my heart leaped. A figure emerged from the tent, but it wasn't Cedric—it was Viktor Krum, his hulking frame unmistakable even at a distance.

"First up, Durmstrang," Bellamy noted, his eyes narrowing as he watched Krum make his way into the center of the arena.

"Wonder what dragon he's got," Lottie said, craning her neck for a better view.

Just then, a pair of familiar redheads pushed through the crowd, weaving their way toward us. 

"Place your bets, place your bets!" Fred called out, holding up a box.

"Odds are on Krum taking the fastest time," George added, winking at me. "But I'm feeling generous—Hufflepuff loyalty discount if you want to back Diggory."

"Yer betting on my friend facing a dragon?" I said, raising an eyebrow at them.

"Think of it as believing in his greatness," Fred said smoothly.

"Or a way to earn a few extra Galleons," George added, not bothering to hide his grin.

Bellamy chuckled, shaking his head. "Ye two are incorrigible."

"That's why you love us," Fred replied with a wink.

"Besides," George said, leaning closer with a conspiratorial air, "if you're so sure Diggory's got this, you might as well profit from it."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help the small laugh that escaped me. "I think I'll stick to cheering from the stands, thanks."

"Suit yourself," Fred said with a shrug. "But don't come crying to us when Diggory wins and you're empty-handed."

"Fred, George, move along before I hex you," Lottie said, though she was grinning.

They saluted us with mock seriousness and continued their trek through the crowd, their shouts fading into the roar of the spectators as Krum stepped into position.

"Here we go," Elsie said, clutching my arm.

I leaned forward, my eyes locked on the arena. Somewhere in that tent, Cedric was waiting for his turn, and all I could do was hope he'd walk out of this unscathed.

✦

The Hufflepuff common room hyped with excitement, the rhythmic thud of applause echoing against the stone walls. Cedric stood in the center of the room, his face flushed with triumph as he held the golden egg aloft. He looked like he could hardly believe it himself, the egg gleaming in his hands as though it were a symbol of all his hard work paying off.

Though, Harry and Viktor tied for first, Cedric came in second with 48 points.

The room erupted in cheers. Chants of "Cedric! Cedric! Cedric!" filled the air, echoing off the walls, and the Hufflepuffs at the table clapped, stomping their feet in rhythm.  

Lottie and Bellamy were leading the cheers, their voices louder than anyone else's, while the rest of us joined in, clapping and shouting.

My eyes stayed fixed on Cedric before I couldn't help it. The anticipation was too much. "Open it!" I called out.

The room fell into a sudden hush, every eye on Cedric, waiting for what would happen next. Cedric's grin spread wider as he turned the golden egg over in his hands, clearly ready to give the crowd what they wanted. The pressure seemed to pull him forward as he carefully twisted open the egg, his fingers trembling just a little with the thrill of it all.

The moment the egg cracked open, a sharp screech filled the air, making the entire room jump back in surprise. It was a haunting, otherworldly sound that seemed to reverberate in the very walls around us, leaving us all covering our ears.

"Bloody hell..." someone whispered, but no one dared to look away as the egg revealed its secret.

Cedric quickly snapped the golden egg shut, his face twisting in discomfort as the screeching sound abruptly cut off. The room was left in a stunned silence, everyone blinking in shock as the last echoes of the assaulting sound faded.

"Merlin's beard," Lottie muttered, her hands pressed against her ears as though she could somehow erase the ringing. "That was... horrendous."

The rest of us just stood there, wide-eyed, our ears still aching from the high-pitched wail that had practically vibrated through our bones. I could feel the ringing in my own skull, and I instinctively rubbed my temples, trying to will the sound out of my head. Cedric looked equally rattled, his hand still clutching the egg as though he was unsure whether to open it again or just throw it into the fire.

"Cedric, that was like a banshee," Bellamy remarked, clearly trying to make light of the situation. His voice cracked a little from the sheer shock of the noise, and he winced.

Cedric gave a nervous laugh, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. "Yeah, I wasn't expecting that," he admitted, looking at the egg as if it had betrayed him. "I think... I think it's supposed to have a clue, but—"

"You're not opening it again, are you?" Elsie asked with a raised eyebrow.  

Cedric chuckled, clearly relieved to find some humor in the situation. "Not unless I want all of us to lose our hearing."

There was a collective exhale as everyone relaxed, the tension finally dissipating. 

"Well," I said, trying to smooth over the awkwardness with a grin. "At least we know it's not a dragon's egg. I don't think they screech like that."

Cedric smiled sheepishly, clearly thankful for the lighthearted comment. "Let's hope that's the last of it," he replied, his fingers still wrapped around the egg, though now he seemed hesitant to do anything more with it.

"Well, let's fucking party!" Lottie shouted, her voice carrying through the room, earning a chorus of cheers from the rest of us. The tension that had built up during the egg's screeching sound melted away as everyone erupted into excitement.

"We're celebrating, damn it!" Lottie grinned, spinning around in the middle of the room as she tried to gather everyone's attention. "Our champion came in second! Let's make sure he knows how bloody proud we are!"

✦

I made my way to the refreshment table, where an assortment of snacks and drinks were haphazardly laid out, clearly pilfered from the kitchens. It was one of the perks of being in Hufflepuff—proximity to the best food in the castle.

"Burbage."

The familiar voice behind me made me roll my eyes before I even turned around.

"Bones," I said flatly, grabbing a cup from the table. "Don't you have anything better to do than bother me?"

He leaned against the edge of the table, sipping a drink that shimmered faintly in the dim light. He looked entirely too smug for my liking.

"Maybe I enjoy annoying you, Zelda," he replied, his tone light and playful, though the glint in his eye made me want to knock the smirk right off his face.

"Yeah, well, maybe I enjoy ruining your day," I shot back, stepping closer as I eyed his drink suspiciously. The liquid sparkled like starlight, definitely not something you'd find on the Hogwarts menu.

"What's that?" I asked, nodding toward the cup in his hand.

He raised an eyebrow, lifting the drink slightly. "This? It's not for amateurs, trust me."

"Right," I said, narrowing my eyes. "Because you're so sophisticated."

Before he could react, I snatched the cup from his hand with a quick swipe.

"Oi!" Bones protested, stepping forward to grab it back, but I'd already raised the cup to my lips.

The cold liquid slid down my throat, sharp and tingling, and for a moment, I thought it was fine—refreshing, even. Then, the sensation changed. My throat felt like it was on fire, and an electric prickling sensation shot through my mouth and up my nose.

I coughed violently, my eyes watering. "What the—what is that?" 

Bones crossed his arms, shaking his head with a satisfied smirk. "I told you not to mess with it. Serves you right, Burbage."

Still coughing, I glared at Bones, my cheeks burning—not just from the fiery drink, but from the sheer humiliation of underestimating him.

"It's harmless," he said casually, though his smirk suggested otherwise. "But it'll mess with your senses for a few hours. Good luck with that."

"What is it?" I managed to croak out, my voice still rough from whatever had scorched my throat.

He winced theatrically, leaning in closer with that insufferable grin still plastered on his face. "That, Burbage, was pixie dust."

"Pixie dust?" My eyes widened as my mouth fell open in shock. "You're joking."

"Not in the slightest," he replied with an exaggerated shake of his head. "Oh, and might I add, you drank nearly all of my cup. I hope you enjoy the ride."

I stared at him, caught somewhere between disbelief and rising panic. "You let me drink it?!"

Bones raised his hands in mock defense. "I didn't let you do anything. You're the one who grabbed it, remember?"

I groaned, already feeling an odd buzz creeping up my spine, the room around me seeming to sharpen in detail yet blur at the edges all at once. 

✦

The magical effects of the pixie dust were starting to hit harder now. My body felt lighter, but in a way that made everything more intense. The air around me seemed to shimmer, and the sounds of the common room felt like they were all vibrating against my skin. My chest was warm, my heart thumping a little faster than usual. I wanted to shift in my seat, but the sensation was too overwhelming. It was like I could feel every single beat of my heart, every breath I took, and it was... good. Too good.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, trying to focus, but everything was buzzing. I felt like I was floating. I couldn't seem to keep my thoughts in one place, and my hands were trembling a little as I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. My gaze darted across the room to Lottie, who was sitting nearby, talking to Elsie. But I couldn't concentrate on anything else for long. Everything just felt too good.

I glanced back down at my hands, feeling the warmth coursing through my veins. There was an almost... desperate quality to it, a craving that lingered beneath the surface. My body felt like it was reacting to every small shift in the air, every movement of my muscles, every sound. I wanted more of that feeling. More of this warmth, this slow, melting ecstasy. I took a deep breath to steady myself, but it only made the buzz intensify.

"Zell?" Lottie's voice broke through the fog in my brain. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she watched me, clearly noticing how off I was. "You okay?"

I barely heard her over the rush in my ears, but I forced myself to focus. My mouth felt dry, and I swallowed hard, trying to clear the haze. "Yeah... yeah, I just... I don't know." I said, trying to keep my voice steady, but the words were like syrup, heavy and slow.

Lottie's brow furrowed. "Zelda," she said more seriously now, pushing some hair back from her face. "What's going on?"

I hesitated for a moment, unsure how to describe it. My senses were so alive, and yet there was an undercurrent of restlessness, a deep need that made my stomach twist. "It feels... it feels too good," I said softly, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

Lottie's eyes widened slightly as she took in the implications. She was no stranger to magical mishaps, but this was different. This wasn't just a mistake; this was something much more intense. "Are you on pixie dust?" she asked, her voice a little tight with concern.

I nodded slowly. "I didn't know it would be like this."

Lottie stood up abruptly, her expression serious. "You need to stop that, Zelda. It's not safe. It's messing with your head, and it's not just... fun." She shot me a look, clearly trying to figure out what exactly was going on in my mind. "You've got to get rid of it before you do something you regret."

Lottie paused, her eyes scanning the room, clearly thinking. Then she said, "You should talk to Fred and George. If anyone can reverse this, it's them. They know more about magical substances than anyone else."

I felt a strange sense of relief at the suggestion, though there was also something deep down that didn't want it to end. The warmth, the sensation—it was intoxicating. But I knew Lottie was right. This wasn't normal. I wasn't supposed to feel like this.

"Yeah," I muttered, the words thick in my mouth. "Yeah, yer right. I'll talk to them."

✦

I stood outside the Gryffindor common room, slightly dizzy from the trek up the stairs. It was a miracle I hadn't stumbled or fallen off one of the moving staircases, but somehow I made it here, with my senses swimming in a haze I couldn't quite shake. The hallway seemed to pulse with a strange energy, the walls leaning in closer as I took a slow, steady breath.

Ron appeared around the corner, his expression reflecting his confusion. "What are you doing here?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I flashed him a grin, my hand instinctively reaching out to rest on his shoulder. The feel of his warmth under my touch sent a shiver through me, like I could feel every inch of his presence, each nerve vibrating with the closeness. "Ronald," I said, enjoying the way his name rolled off my tongue. "I need to talk to yer brothers, can ye let me in?"

Ron hesitated for a second, looking me over with a discerning eye. The subtle flush of heat spreading across my cheeks probably didn't help my case. He was quiet for a moment, taking in the way I swayed just slightly, my mind still buzzing from the effects of the pixie dust. His eyes lingered on me longer than I expected, like he could see straight through the surface.

"You're high as a kite," he finally muttered, his gaze flicking to my eyes, where he must've noticed the unfocused gleam. He let out a soft sigh, but instead of pushing me away, he placed a hand gently on my back, guiding me forward. "Come on."

"Fortuna major," Ron said to the Fat Lady with a quiet but firm command. The portrait swung open with a creak, and I couldn't help but marvel at the hidden warmth that flooded from the common room. It was like stepping into a different world, the contrast between the cold hallway and the cozy, firelit space inside making me feel even more out of place.

I hadn't been in the Gryffindor common room much—mostly for parties, late-night gatherings with friends, and perhaps the occasional visit. The smell of firewhisky permeated the air, the sound of laughter and music spilling from within. A celebration, no doubt. Probably because of Harry's win.

A grin tugged at my lips as I stepped inside, feeling a weird thrill that I didn't entirely understand.

It was hard to focus on anything as my head continued to spin, but I knew I had to find Fred and George. They were the only ones who could fix this. 

I took a step forward, but before I could say anything else, I caught sight of the twins across the room, and everything else blurred out for a moment.

I didn't say a word. Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around Fred, pressing my face into his chest. The surprise that flickered in his eyes only made me cling tighter, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath the fabric of his shirt. His arms remained stiff at first, not sure how to react, but then they snaked around me, one hand resting gently on the back of my neck, fingers brushing against my skin as if trying to make sense of the moment.

I inhaled deeply, his scent hitting me all at once—warm, familiar, and comforting. It only made my heart race faster, the heat building up in my chest and spreading downward. I let out a soft giggle, a little too giddy for my own good. "Freddie," I whispered, savoring the way his name felt on my lips. It was like everything else melted away, and it was just him, just us.

I barely processed the conversation around me. There was a mention of me being high, and the words barely registered. My head was too fuzzy, too clouded by this warm, almost tingling feeling that refused to let go. Fred's hand began to rub my back, and the heat surged, pooling low in my belly. I needed something, someone—anything to calm the restlessness building inside of me.

"Hey, Zelly, come with me, okay?" Fred's voice was gentle but firm, and before I could comprehend what was happening, he took me by the shoulders and pulled away slightly to look down at me. His eyes softened, though a trace of concern lingered.

I blinked at him, almost in a daze. "She's down bad," George remarked from somewhere beside us.

I barely registered the words. My eyes darted over the room, the crowd of laughing, chattering students, but nothing really made sense anymore. Everything was buzzing. "I feel amazing," I said, my voice a little too sultry as I licked my bottom lip.

Fred's lips pressed into a thin line. "I bet you do," he muttered under his breath, but there was something sharp, almost angry in his tone. Was he mad at me?

Before I could ask, Fred gently guided me toward a chair near the fireplace, his hands firm on my shoulders. I plopped down, the warmth from the flames catching my skin and sending another rush through me. I reached for him instinctively, my hands trailing down his arm and curling around his hand, unwilling to let go.

"Yer leaving?" I asked, my voice small, almost childish.

"I'll be right back, Zelly," Fred reassured me, his smile warm but tinged with something I couldn't quite place. "Just stay here. Don't talk to anyone, okay?"

I nodded, the heat of his hand still lingering on mine as he pulled away. "Okay," I whispered, watching him retreat for a moment before my fingers slipped from his. The emptiness left in his absence felt far more noticeable than I wanted to admit.

The laughter and chatter around me were becoming muffled, like a soft buzz in the background, as if I was drifting further from reality. But then someone sat next to me—a Gryffindor I didn't recognize. His grin was cocky, his presence too close, but I didn't care.

"Hey, you alright?" he asked, almost teasing.

I looked at him, a small smile tugging at my lips. "I'm great," I said breathlessly, feeling a surge of warmth rush through me. His eyes flickered over me, and before I could stop myself, I leaned in closer, my lips brushing against his.

The kiss started slow, but it didn't take long for the heat to rise. His hand found its way to my waist, pulling me closer, the tension between us growing. I barely registered the world around us, everything feeling distant, like we were in a bubble of our own.

And then—Fred.

His voice cut through the haze. "Oi, bugger off," he growled, and the Gryffindor pulled away just as I blinked up at Fred, momentarily disoriented. My heart was still pounding, and I could feel the heat between my legs, but Fred was standing there, hands on his hips, glaring at the other boy.

"Hey—" I started, but he cut me off, his expression darkening.

"You're not thinking straight, Zelly." His voice was firm, his gaze unwavering. "Come on."

I opened my mouth to protest, but the words caught in my throat as he pulled a small, colorful sweet from his pocket and dangled it in front of me.

"Take it," he said, his tone softer but still laced with authority. "It'll help."

My mind screamed at me to refuse—to hold onto this feeling, the buzz that had wrapped itself around me. I didn't want it to stop. I didn't want to feel normal again. I wanted to stay in this blissful haze forever.

But Fred wasn't having it. His eyes locked with mine, and there was something there—a quiet determination. He was serious. His hand was still holding the sweet in front of me, waiting for me to take it.

"Come on, Zelly," he said again, his voice more insistent this time. "You need to take it. It's for your own good."

I hesitated, my fingers hovering above it, but the edge in his tone made me reluctantly take it. It felt too small to be a solution, but I knew he wasn't going to back down.

I placed the sweet in my mouth, chewing slowly, the faint taste of mint and iron filling my senses. Almost immediately, a wave of calm washed over me, the fuzziness in my head lifting, the heat in my body receding. But there was a part of me that didn't want it to stop. I wanted to feel that ecstasy again, just a little longer.

Fred watched me closely, his gaze softening as I swallowed the last of it. "There you go," he muttered, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face.

But there was no denying that I missed the feeling. The high was fading, leaving me with a strange emptiness, like a piece of me had just been ripped away. And yet, Fred's touch, his presence, made me feel like I was tethered back to reality. 

✦