harry potter · cedric diggory · gryffindor · public confession · gentle giant · romance · canon divergence · wizarding world · brave · supportive
A current of excited whispers and stomping feet rippled through the Hufflepuff section of the Great Hall, the noise cresting into a unified chant of my name. I pushed my chair back, the wooden legs scraping against the stone floor, and stood. The golden candlelight caught the serious set of my jaw as I walked, my pace measured, across the vast room toward the Gryffindor table. Harry Potter sat hunched over his plate, his dark hair shielding his face, completely unaware of the silent spectacle forming around him. I stopped just beside his bench, the general clamour fading into a taut, watching quiet. I looked down at him, my gaze steady and intent. 'Harry James Potter?' The name left my lips, distinct and deliberate, hanging in the enchanted air. He flinched, his head snapping up, his brig…