Backfire

The sky was painted orange, the sun bidding its farewell as stars began to form in the sky. Holland sighed as she eyed the quilted sheet she was on, appreciating its different patterns from red polka dots, small, yellow vertical lines, and other random designs that Holland had assumed to have been from socks. She had decided to spend an afternoon to herself, sitting on the grass and enjoying the silence. She also packed a bunch of grapes, thinking it would be nice to treat herself. The Quidditch pitch was surprisingly one of the less occupied places in Hogwarts during free periods. Maybe because it was a bit of a long walk from the castle, but Holland needed her privacy, anyway. She decided on a place that wasn't the Astronomy tower for once, and now there she was, happily humming to herself and enjoying the silence accompanied with the occasional buzzing of bees and whistling wind. She sat on a random patch of grass, the hand-stitched quilt beneath her that she'd managed to borrow from the kitchen elves, the girl trying to free her mind, express herself, and just enjoy her own company while she scribbled and doodled all over her notebook. She looked up, observing the tall goalposts of the Quidditch pitch. Holland had always dreamed of being a Quidditch player. But with her parents being overprotective, they just couldn't risk the thought of their probably talented athlete of a daughter putting herself out in the spotlight, to be easily hunted by relatives of azkaban detainees. Holland remembered just how much she idolized Oliver Wood. She remembered how badly she wanted to try out for his team when she thought she'd be sorted in Gryffindor. She'd really adored the boy, she felt as if she were his number one fan, wanting nothing but to hug him and tell him that it was alright when they'd lost to Hufflepuff last year. It was a very rainy game, that was. One of the nastiest games Harry Potter's ever played. But come to think of it, Holland had never remembered Harry Potter to ever play Quidditch without being targeted by some sort of evil. She remembered their first year, Harry's first game. Quirrell had cursed his broom, the boy being jerked here and there like a rag-doll. It was crazy just how much it seemed like it was Snape when Harry and the others explained, but who would have thought that it was actually their stuttering Defense Against the Dark Arts professor behind all that dark sabotaging? Holland wasn't friends with the Gryffindors yet then, but she knew something was wrong. It was only their second year when Harry had explained everything to Holland, having to explain as he'd whined about not being able to play Quidditch without having someone attack him he had just been in the infirmary once more. Dobby had apparently wanted Harry out of Hogwarts, thinking that a cursed Bludger would do the trick, he enchanted it to stop at nothing until it's crushed Harry Potter. Then, their third year, it had been when Hogwarts was flooded by dementors, guarding and roaming around in search of Sirius Black. During their game, Harry had been attacked by a dementor, losing his senses and falling over a hundred feet. He had been so close to the snitch, too. After he'd fallen, Hufflepuff's seeker caught the snitch, instead. And funnily enough, Hufflepuff's seeker was Cedric Diggory. Holland remembered snorting at the boy who'd begged for a rematch despite catching the snitch fair and square. Holland then began to wonder what it would have been like to play for her house. Holland couldn't grasp the idea of playing with such people. She loved her housemates, but Holland really found the victory of simply being better than the competition much sweeter than winning from foul play. It was common knowledge that her house's Quidditch team were very nasty players. And Holland was against their form of skullduggery in sports. Such complex planning and trickery could be used for other, more important matters.

"Holland!" She groans as somebody had managed to find her, disturbing her train of reminiscence. She made sure not to tell anybody where she'd be that afternoon. She turns to the direction she'd heard the voice call from to see no other than the Hufflepuff seeker himself, running towards her from under the 30 feet stands of the Quidditch pitch. Holland sat up straighter, wondering what the boy wanted to see her for.

"Hey." Holland greets coolly as the boy makes his way to her, sitting next to her. This caught Holland off guard, but she chose to remain quiet, subtly scooting to the left from the boy before making sure the grapes between them wouldn't get squished or lose balance all roll all over the quilt.

"You'll never believe it," Cedric says with bated breath, teeth shining in the dying daylight as the boy smiled. He was still trying to catch his breath, chest heaving as he tried to settle down in his new position. His whole appearance oozed the image of disheveled, his wrinkled robes and messy hair, small beads of sweat forming on his forehead, and his even rosier cheeks. The sight making Holland feel uneasy, she felt as if she weren't allowed to look at the boy sitting next to her.

"Dragons." He breathed out, still trying to catch his breath. Holland shook her head, not sure if she had hear him right, mind still focused on Quidditch and Oliver Wood.

"Hm?" Holland was confused, then she realizes. She did have a feeling about the first task having something major to do with magical creatures. Dragons? She nearly vomited at the thought. That was intense. But then again, the price of eternal glory shouldn't come cheap. "You don't mean—"

"I do. Harry told me. It's the first task, Fleur and Krum know it, too." Cedric says quietly, giving a half-hearted smile. It was nice that the boy didn't have to keep guessing what the first task would be, but that didn't mean it was a guarantee that he'd be able to survive it.

"That's magnificent!" Holland cheers, happy the two didn't have to hypothesize and conjure up manic ideas as to what the first task could be anymore.

"Blimey, how I wish you'd been there!" Cedric admits, clearly elated like he always was. "Mad-eye, he and Malfoy—" Holland immediately interjects, wondering what had happened to her friend. The fact that he and Moody were in the same sentence made Holland feel queasy, already knowing hell had most likely broken loose.

"What?" Holland asks immediately in concern, the memory of the arachnid on Draco's nose flashing in Holland's eyes. Holland knew better than to think Draco had been keeping quiet and was behaving, whatever had come to him, he definitely deserved. Holland groaned. Having Draco Malfoy as one of your closest friends felt like having to take care of a rabid dog who'd bark relentlessly at whoever walked by, but would immediately flinch and weep the minute anybody goes near it.

"Don't exactly know what happened, he and Harry must have been having a row like always, and Malfoy was about to throw a spell. Then Mad-eye, he stepped in and transfigured Malfoy into a ferret!" Cedric was laughing, overwhelming Holland with the sound of his laughter.

"That can't be allowed." Holland says incredulously, surely an auror would know better than to do such in school. But then again, this is the same professor who had demonstrated all three of the Unforgivable curses in front of his students.

"It isn't. But isn't that what makes it so brilliant?" Cedric asks in amusement, throwing his head back in laughter. Holland stared at the sight of pure joy in front of her. It was almost a sight that only existed in fiction, with bright, sunlit hair slowly moving as he'd thrown his head back in amusement, his scarlet cheeks, teeth shining, and eyes illuminated by the beautiful golden hour sun. Holland felt her stomach groan, it was probably telling her to stop looking at something so horrendous.

Cedric then quieted down, looking at Holland and admiring how she looked. Holland immediately raised her hand, shielding her cheek form the puckered up lips that had been merely inches away from it.

"Professional, Diggory." She reminds him tiredly. He was becoming a decent person to talk to, but there were still instances where Holland could tell that the potion was taking over. Cedric huffs, visibly shrinking as he slouched in disappointment.

"Right, then." Holland says after an awkward moment of silence. "Now that we know what you're facing, I think it's time we talk about how you face it." She crosses her legs, trying not to make it obvious that sitting on the flat grass had made her rear feel a bit uncomfortable.

"Alright, how are we doing that?" Cedric asks, enticed and showing a bit more confidence about the tournament than he was in their previous nights together. Holland notices, feeling her hear warm up for the boy.

"Let's try to come up with different ways you could be facing the dragon," Holland explains. "For example, what if you had to slay it?" Holland asks grimly, waiting for the boy's reaction. The boy immediately contorts his face in discomfort, not too warm with the idea.

"That doesn't sit very well with me. I could never kill a living creature." Cedric easily said, his hands mindlessly playing with the wads of grass surrounding his right side. He tussles his own head, probably trying to imagine what he could do if that was the situation.

"Oh, Diggory. You can't kill a living creature, but a dragon sure can." Holland says, earning a sharp look from the boy. "I'm just saying, let's hope there's no slaying necessary, but if the situation leads to it.. It's you or the dragon." Holland didn't want to go easy on Cedric, how could she? Not strategizing well enough could lead to actual death, the two really needed to take this seriously. It seemed funny, how Holland initially wanted to be his tutor to make him go out there listening to her very much wrong information. Holland didn't want to get him killed, she was just hoping for the opportunity to create small, subtle mishaps like a pink cloak, a temporarily bald head, stuff like that. And now here she was, dedicating large portions of her days making sure Cedric does superbly in every single task.

"Okay, I see your point." The Hufflepuff sighs. "Well, I don't think I'm too equipped with the skill of actual offensive charms, and I'm only mildly familiar with defensive ones." Cedric admits, blinking at the ground and feeling bashful. Cedric was fully aware that Holland was madly intelligent with charms, knowing she and Hermione were always the two best in their classes, so to be in front of her and tell her that he wasn't too great at it embarrassed him a bit.

"Well, what if you were to distract the dragon?" Holland suggests. "Let it tire itself out on something completely unnecessary? Like, I don't know.. Where would you even be? Let's say there are trees, you could transfigure a tree!"

"Transfiguration. That's a bloody good idea." Cedric says, smiling at the idea. He was visibly calming down even more now, he brought his right knee up, placing his elbow on it and smiling as he realized that maybe he didn't have much to worry about, after all.

"Alright, what if it's timed?" Holland suggests for a next scenario to strategize for. She brings her fingers together, interlacing the tips and placing it under her chin as she began to devise a plan. Holland blinks up at the sky, noticing that the sun had significantly sunken down even more since Cedric had gotten there.

"What do you mean?" Cedric inquires, rolling the pulled grass between his fingers, bringing it close to his face for a better look. Holland craned her neck to see what the boy was doing, scrunching her face in amusement and snorting at how childlike he was being.

"What if each champion were to be timed, whoever stays with the dragon untouched the longest wins the task?" Holland suggests, already thinking of protective charms.

"I don't suppose you have a few shielding spells up your sleeve, do you?" Cedric asked. Holland wished she could say yes, but the only appropriate spell she could currently enumerate was Protego.

"No, but the library probably does." Holland says, listing down things she'd be looking at the library for when her and Cedric finish spending time together. "Alright, something else.. How about, you need to fly the dragon? Is that too much?" Holland wonders, watching the grass that lay in front of them. She turned to look at Cedric, the Hufflepuff already looking at her, Holland initially wanted to look away, not wanting things to feel romantic, but she chose to let her gaze courageously linger.

"No idea." He says, deep in thought, out of grass to fumble with. His eyes dart towards the grapes, eyeing them mischievously. As Holland was relishing in the silence, she lets out a startled yelp at the feeling of a grape coming in contact with her shoulder.

"What the hell?" She shrieked, face panicked until she saw Cedric's palms. "Knock it off, Diggory. You don't know who you're messing with.." She taunts, narrowing her eyes.

"Don't I? We have been messing with each other for years." He says, flinging an entire handful of fruit onto the girl. Holland yells, grabbing as much as she could from the left over grapes, rapidly shooting at the boy grape after grape. The two were now laughing manically, the high of having fun together for the first time circulating in their veins. Holland had to admit, it felt nicer when both of them were happy, in contrast to one happy and the other dripping wet in goblin slime or dungbomb residue.

"You wasted a perfectly good bunch." Holland scolded, hitting the boys arm. Cedric rubs his arm before looking around him, realizing they'd get in much more trouble if they were still outside the castle at this time of day.

"We've got to go inside. Come on, let's eat dinner." Cedric stands up, offering his hand to Holland, who was already folding her quilt and hiking up the strap of her bag on her shoulder.

"Let's go." She says, looking up directly at him, pretending that she hadn't noticed his hand. Cedric took no offense, simply shrugging it off and staying by her side as they began to walk back to the castle. Their walk was comfortably quiet, Cedric somehow knowing better than to try and make small talk. Holland found herself counting the amount of lit torches on the way to the dining hall. From the pitch to the castle, she counted 250.

"Here we are!" Holland grunts as she pretended to be having a hard time pushing the enchanted doors open. Cedric chuckling at her silliness.

"Let me walk you to your table." He offers kindly as they walk through the doors, Holland immediately frowning.

"Come on, Diggory." Holland says, sighing as she'd already told him about their rules. "We laugh, we spend time together, but we don't have to do stuff like that." Holland says, students from other houses eyeing them as they'd been standing where they were too long. "Bon appetit, Diggory." She smiles half-heartedly before walking off, leaving the boy alone and confused.

-

"Is there anything else that isn't protego?" Holland reads out another definition on the shielding spell, wincing as she knew it wouldn't be strong enough to deflect fire from a dragon. She was now with Harry once more, in the library this time. She told Cedric he should begin to rest and have some time to himself because they'd be spending loads of times practicing charms and spells for the first task. She was now in the library with Harry, who had been looking at books, himself. Holland wanted to pick out books for the boy, wanting to help him, too, but Harry politely declined. He said it felt a tad bit wrong for Holland to be helping two champions at once, and words and strategies might accidentally slip. Holland agreed, knowing her ditzy self would eventually slip out confidential information to the other champion, being inevitably confused with which spell and which plan was whose.

Holland watched Harry read quietly, slowly looking more and more hopeless. "How you feeling over there?" She asked, sympathy oozing towards the boy. Holland wanted to wrap Harry up in the house-elf quilt, smother him, and let him drink a gallon of tea, knowing better not to do exactly as that or else Harry might explode at her.

"Fantastic." Harry mumbles. "Not to mention Ron knew about the dragons and didn't even bother telling me." He follows, Holland snapping her head to look at him in confusion. That was out of line. Holland examines her friend, Harry was hurt more than angry and it saddened her.

"What would Ron know about the dragons?" Holland asks curiously, bells ringing but her mind coming up with no ideas. She felt upset, having expected more from the boy. She really believed that he was a true friend to Harry despite their current dispute. But how could he hide such important news?

"His brother Charlie from Romania. He works with dragons, remember? He was the one to bring them in. Ron was there, Hagrid tells me he nearly fainted at the sight of one of them." Harry explains, audibly bitter. Holland shook her head, desperately trying to put herself in the ginger's perspective. And then she realizes, that if Ron knew and was there, Fred, George, and Ginny would have been, too.

"This makes no sense.." Holland begins to laugh in disbelief. "If Ron was there.. Then Fred and George, were they?" Holland asks, slowly feeling anger coursing through her veins. George better have a good explanation as to why he'd kept this from her.

"They were there, Holly." Harry said, knowing she'd be upset, as well. Holland begins to shake her head another time that night. How could he hide such a thing from her? He couldn't have possibly say that it's slipped his mind, Holland was nothing but vocal with how stressed she was not knowing what the first task was. Then the afternoon in the courtyard began to make sense. He was about to tell her, and obviously decided against doing so. If Holland were animated, she'd look like one of those angry animals with steam leaving her nose and ears.

"Unbe—bloody—lievable!" Holland seethes, eyes rolling as Madame Pince began to shush her. She then leaned closer to Harry as she ranted, the boy slightly backing away in fear. "How could he keep that from me? He knew. He knew! We spoke about it the other day. He heard me talk about how stress I'd been trying to figure the first task and he said nothing." Holland rambles, rubbing her temples.

"Maybe if he told you, you'd tell Cedric and then Cedric would snog you." Harry mutters, clearly joking despite the situation. Holland snarls at Harry. "I get it, Ron's supposed to be my best friend. Guess eternal glory means so much more for him to let his best friend on a little warning that could save his life, you know?" Harry mutters. Holland immediately softens and without another thought enclosing him in a hug, forgetting about George for a moment.

"Hey, Ron was upset that night. We can't deny that." Holland says, about to continue when Harry mumbles again.

"Hard to deny he was upset when he'd proudly told me to piss of." Harry nods.

"Stop that," Holland scolds, knowing Harry really had a knack of getting so negative in trying times. Could she blame him? It seemed that danger just wanted to find Harry and strangle him no matter how quiet he was being. "Listen to me. He was upset but we all know, him included, that he was wrong. Don't you think Ron actually cares, though? Him telling Hermione to tell you that Hagrid told Parvati to tell Dean from Seamus to tell you that Hagrid needed to see you?" Holland tries to encourage him, Harry just looked at her blankly.

"Right, sorry." Holland chuckles, clearly just messing with Harry. "Jokes aside, that was Ron telling you about the task. Just not directly." Holland says as if it were elementary.

"I don't know about that. How hard would it be to walk up to me and tell me that I'm about to face a dragon two days from now?" Holland snorts. If you were Ronald Bilius Weasley and mad at the one and only Harry James Potter, then it would be as hard as stone.

"And deny himself the big bowl of pride he devours on a daily basis?" Holland jokes, laughing at Ron's and Harry's immaturity. Harry remained silent, not finding the situation as funny as Holland did. Holland lets out an impatient breath. "You two are such boys. You'll get over it eventually. I'm just hoping that it happens soon because it's getting kind of weird and unsettling seeing you two not spend time together."

"Funny hearing you say that, those were the last words Ron's said to me when it was you and George not talking." Harry smirks, knowing this would shut Holland up and basically malfunction as a human being.

"Read up on your dragons, boy." Holland replies quickly, shoving her nose down the book she let go of so she could hug the boy.

-