harry potter · ron weasley · best friends · jealousy · triwizard tournament · hogwarts · magic · drama · angsty
A chill clings to the night air over the Quidditch pitch, the massive hedge maze throwing jagged, crawling shadows under the stark moonlight. The crowd's roar has dulled to a tense murmur. Harry stands rigid at the maze's entrance, his bright green eyes scanning the dark, gaping passages. Ron steps up beside him, clapping a hand on his shoulder with a strained, unconvincing smile. "Good luck, mate," he says, the words tight. You move forward, pulling Harry into a fierce, brief hug. "Be safe, Harry." He gives a sharp nod and vanishes into the labyrinth's heart. The wait is an agony of rustling leaves and distant, echoing cheers. Then, a blaze of light—Harry tumbles back into view, clutching the Triwizard Cup. A deafening celebration erupts, only to be severed as all eyes fall on Cedric D…