“Why were you in the Prefect’s bathroom?” I asked, curiosity lacing my voice. Cedric Diggory, my friend, shifted uneasily.
“Oh, uh, well, I’m a Prefect.”
“You have your golden egg.”
“I was trying to figure out what it was,” Cedric admitted, eagerness to end the conversation evident in his tone. “So I took a bath with it.”
“Oh, okay. That’s… cool.”
He nodded slowly, and a shared laugh bubbled between us.
“This tournament is making you do some weird stuff,” I commented, trying to stifle my amusement.
“Definitely,” Cedric agreed. “Next, they’re probably going to have us tied up on the bottom of the Black Lake.”
“Oh, my Lord, and they’ll have the merfolk guarding you,” I added, joining in the playful exaggeration.
Cedric laughed. “Hey, who are you planning on taking to the Yule Ball?”
“Oh, uh… no one.”
“Yet.”
I chuckled at his persistence. No one would want to go with *me*. “Who are *you* taking?”
“I’m going to ask Cho,” Cedric answered, matter-of-factly.
“The Ravenclaw?”
“Yep.”
“Okay, but I suggest you do it quickly. Fawn said something about Potter crushing on her.”
“Oh?” Cedric nodded, absorbing the information. “Thanks for telling me.”
“No problem. Good luck with your quest.”
“Hey, thanks!”
I smiled and started walking back towards the Hufflepuff House area.
~~~
“Fawn, must you drag me into this too? You know I dislike shopping for dress robes I can’t afford.”
“Oh, come on, Y/n. It’s fun, and it’s a good bonding exercise.”
“Uh-huh. Watching you examine overpriced dress robes is really bringing us closer,” I said dryly, looking at my friend. Her dark brown hair, almost black, was pulled back in a loose ponytail, and her black glasses perched on her nose. Her warm brown skin glowed in the winter chill.
“It will! Just trust me. Does this colour look good on me?”
“It looks fine.”
“Are you sure? What about this colour?”
“They both look great. Can we *please* go now?”
“Fine, just let me pay and then we can go. Aren’t you getting your outfit too?”
“I already have my dress robes.”
“Oh, okay. Merlin, I was scared you were going with someone else.”
“Fawn,” I said, turning to her. “You know Courtney and I are best friends, and I’d never do something like that, right?”
“I mean, you never know. You’re incredibly likeable. Everyone wants to be friends with you.”
I thought back to my first year. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“Oh, come on! You’re the kindest student in our year. At least three kids have approached *me* asking if they could be friends with you. I told them they’d have to talk to you, but that you’d be open to it. Okay, come on. I want to stop by The Three Broomsticks and Honeydukes. Courtney wanted some sugar skulls.”
“Oh, uh, okay?”
Fawn paid for her dress robes, casting a quick charm to keep them clean and wrinkle-free before we stepped into the biting winter wind. My scarf billowed wildly, nearly slapping a Slytherin in the face.
“Hey! Watch where your scarf is blowing!” The blond boy snapped, scowling as he faced me. His hair was so pale it looked like snow had fallen directly onto his head.
“Oh, sorry, I wasn’t really paying attention—”
“It’s a scarf! A bright, ugly yellow thing on your neck! How could you not—”
“Hey, that’s enough, Malfoy. Leave Y/n alone. She didn’t mean to hit you with her scarf, it was an accident.”
“Ugh. I’ll let it slide this time. However, the next time an incident like this happens—”
“Oh, shove off! Why are you such an arse to Y/n? She hasn’t done anything to you. Go kick a rock, or have Professor Moody turn you into a ferret again so you can gnaw on people’s fingers!” Fawn stepped protectively in front of me.
I tried to stand my ground, watching as someone shorter than me defended me more effectively than I could myself. “Hey, Malfoy, can you please leave us alone? We just want to get some butterbeer.”
He scowled and turned away.
“What an arse. Come on, let’s go get butterbeer!”
~~~
“Awwh, thank you guys so much! You really didn’t need to get me butterbeer, a croissant, and candy. You’re so sweet,” Courtney said, smiling as we sat across from her. She’d been sick and unable to join us in Hogsmeade, so we’d brought her some of her favorite treats. A mountain of candy sat on the small table: Chocolate Frogs, Sugar Quills and Sugar Skulls, Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans, Chocoballs, and Acid Pops. Three glasses of butterbeer stood next to it, one for each of us. Fawn also had a croissant, and we’d gotten her a bagel.
“You guys know I won’t be able to eat all of this, so I want you to help me!”
I glanced at Fawn, who smirked, knowing exactly what would happen. She grabbed two butterbeers, handed one to me, and opened hers. Courtney and I followed suit, tilting our bottles together in the middle.
“Cheers, to enjoyable winters, delicious snacks, and great friends.”
We clinked our cups and said, “Cheers,” in unison, then took a sip of the frothy drink.
“Bon appétit!”