You yawned as you brushed you dirty blonde hair out of your face, watching your tired blue-gray eyes watch you back in the mirror. The mirror was snoring, which caused you to give it a glare, pulling a hooded sweatshirt over your head. You gave a lopsided smile, thinking about the day ahead, as you grabbed your bag and headed downstairs.
“Morning, Mum,” you murmured, sitting down at the table.
“Are you ready for this, Charlie?” Your mum questioned, referring to the Quidditch World Cup. It was hell getting the tickets, but your mother, a Pureblood Irish witch, wouldn’t miss it for the world. You nodded enthusiastically, throwing your hair up in a ponytail, and taking a bite of the toast in front of you.
“Where’s Daddy at?” You questioned curiously, noticing his absence. At that moment he’d walked in the door, and leant down to plant a kiss on your forehead.
“Morning, dear,” Your dad moved to kiss your mother, who was busy in the kitchen, “So, Charlie, those friends of yours going for Ireland?”
“Of course,” you grinned, picturing your friends. You were anxious to catch up with them, it had been quite a lonesome summer, and you at least were hoping for a few good stories from their own summer vacations.
You dad grinned back at you, picking up his own bag and a piece of toast before heading back out the door, which caused you to follow, giving a quick “Come on, Mum,” as you left. You waited with your dad, watching for the light in the kitchen to go out, followed by the door closing, and your mother’s wild red hair to appear beside your father.
“Alright, off we go then,” Your dad chuckled, beginning the trek over your hill and beyond to the port key that would whisk you off to the Quidditch World Cup.
You were a relatively lean girl, just the right size, but a bit short for your sixteen years. You found the climb up the hill a bit tiring, as you had very little muscle capability, which, coupled with your looks, made you seem like the stereotypical damsel in distress. You seemingly brought out the gentlemen in all the boys you met, always being offered a free load when going to classes, doors opened, umbrellas held up, the things a gentlemen should do for a lady.
Smiling as you reached the top of the hill, your bright face was met with the sunrise. The three of you had stopped a moment to watch it’s slow rise into the sky, before your dad began to push you on again. The smile stayed spread across your face as you waltzed along behind your parents, head bobbing to an unheard melody. You were pumped for the match, and even better, a return to school. Something was happening this year, everyone knew it, it was just that no one knew what. You were longing to know, but, more importantly, you would finally be back in your old four poster with the girls, spending long nights awake by the fire in the golden common room along with the boys, and, of course, watching the rough Quidditch practices, courtesy of your best friend.
Your smile widened as you thought of him, his gray eyes and blonde hair, billowing to-and-fro in the light breeze when you last saw him. A grin was plastered across his handsome face, and you could almost still feel the warmth from his body as he’d hugged you goodbye. Your eyes were about to fall shut to let you fully relive the memory, when your father’s voice had cried out.
“There it is!” He broke out in a fast paced walk towards an old tire, as you narrowly avoided hitting a tree, blushing lightly in embarrassment as you heard a chuckle behind you.
“Charlie Andrews,” You smiled at the boy you knew to be two years younger than yourself, but a fellow Irishman and your closest neighbor.
“Seamus Finnegan,” You turned around, giving your eyes as moment to scan one of your earliest friends, despite the age gap. You’d grown apart, of course, what with you leaving for Hogwarts, and then him being sorted into Gryffindor when he’d arrived himself, but you still liked to have a little bit of pleasant chat with him when you could.
“They still call you Lucky?” You nodded at your nickname, which had been given to you in your first year, due to the fact that the day you’d met the gray-eyed boy in your memory, he’d run into you quickly, close to being late for his first Charms test. He’d passed with the best grade he’d gotten so far in your short two weeks at Hogwarts, and thus had named you his good luck charm.
You smiled, recalling him stating that he thought you’d brought him all the luck in the world that day, as he was completely unprepared. You kneeled down, grabbing the tire, as you pulled it from the depths of your mind.
“Really,” the boy smiled at you, “I’m sure I would’ve failed if I hadn’t run into you on the way.”
“I doubt it,” you blushed; your hair fell over your shoulders as you looked down.
“Of course that was it,” he grinned, sitting down beside you, “I’ll call you, Lucky. Obviously you’re my good luck charm.” You smiled up at him, the traces of your blush fading away.
“Thanks,” you responded, waiting to hear his name.
“Cedric,” he laughed at your shyness, sticking his hand out. You grasped it.
“Nice to meet you, Cedric,” you stated.
“And you, Lucky.”
Suddenly you felt the familiar tug on your abdomen, spinning you about. You closed your eyes for a moment, but opened them in enough time for you to land on your feet. You laughed as you offered Seamus a hand.
“Ruddy port keys,” Seamus muttered, grasping your hand.
“See you later, Seamus,” you gave one last laugh, following your parents over to the muggle who was directing others to their campsites.
You waited patiently for your father to finish speaking with the man, while your mother spoke to someone that she apparently knew from work. Receiving the location for your campsite, you’d bounded ahead, happy to finally be here. You threw your bag down on the couch of your tent, and allowed gravity to pull your weight down next to it. You fell asleep for a few moments there, tired from your walk.
You would’ve stayed asleep longer, if you hadn’t felt a familiar tingling sensation on your neck. Your head snapped up to find a rough hand gently brushing your neck, and a pair of memorable gray eyes smiling down at you.
Okay, so this is kind of a prequel to Ced’s chapter in Proposals, because I love him so much. This story won’t have too much Ced/you action, but I’m planning to have another story entirely after this for seventh year. Yeah, Ced survives, AU, etc, etc. :) But anyway, this story’s essentially your sixth year at Hogwarts, the Triwizard Tournament, and realizing you actually do have feelings for Cedric. Please be patient with me on it as well, because it’ll take me a long time. I’m a one-shot person, as you know. ;)
But anyway, let me know what you think of it so far!