A Losing Winner

“You don’t care about winning some stupid tournament!”

Cedric sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, allowing a deep breath to escape from his tight chest while he tried to collect himself enough to face the girl who was tearfully staring at him from across the room. He’d been in the prefect’s bathroom with her for over an hour now, trying to persuade her into coming to watch him enter his name in the goblet tomorrow.

At the first mention of the enchanted cup though, she’d seem to freeze and he’d watched as her light colored orbs widened in horror. Terrified that she’d gone into shock, he’d grabbed onto her shoulders and hauled her up against his chest. He’d placed his hand on her cheek and gently titled her head back just enough so he could clearly peer into her eyes, becoming even more frightened once he managed to clearly get a good look into them. The normal light green that usually filled her irises seemed to have transformed into an icy grey and the customary sparkle that was always running through her pretty orbs had vanished. He’d quietly whispered her name, tightened the hold around her upper body, and shook her gently too get her to react. He knew telling her of his decision wasn’t going to be easy, but he hadn’t thought it would kill her.

A few more minutes passed in which she remained expressionless and unmoving, but eventually she muttered a faint ‘no’ then collapsed against him. She began to cry, balling up the front of his robes in tiny fists and burying her face deep into his chest. At a loss at what to do, he’d simply wrapped both of his arms around her strongly and held her as close as he could. She cried for so long that the front of his sweater had begun to become damp and, having all her salty tears washed out onto his shirtfront, she had slipped into a state in which she was just quietly hiccupping.

Cautiously, he'd leaned her head back again and felt as his heart gave a painful throb at seeing her red, tear-streaked face. Her eyes were swollen, the green now more evident than the steely grey, and the hair that framed her face had begun to frizz from the water that had accumulated there.

“I have to do this,” he’d whispered.

She’d shaken her head slowly, releasing the fists of his robes that she’d had and trailed her hands up to his shoulders. She gripped them firmly and shook him just a bit, as if she thought she could shake him enough so that his thoughts would be on the same wavelengths as hers.

“No, you don’t. You have to stay with me, Cedric, forever-like you promised!”

“I’ll always be with you, Bren, but this is something that I can see myself winning. It’s the Triwizard Tournament, for god’s sake!”

That’s when she’d pushed herself away, scowling menacingly and putting a great bit of distance between them. She’d folded her arms after shoving back curly ends of her black hair behind her shoulders and had trained her glaring eyes on him. Obviously she knew that something like the Triwizard Tournament didn’t generally interest him-that it had originally been his father who’d suggested he put his name in. However, he was going to try and play it off as if he'd come up with the whole thing, if only to make his father seem less domineering than he really was.

Dropping his hand down to his waist and sighing, he finished reflecting on the passed time he’d spent up here with her, frowning a little as he was hoping there had been something that he could use in order to persuade her to see things as he was trying to.

“Don’t you understand what it would mean if I won," he questioned.

Close to a minute of time passed in which she stared at him unbelievably and he slowly realized that he hadn’t said the right thing. He let out another breath when he saw her grit her teeth and took a seat on the edge of the large bathtub that ate up a great portion of the room. Shoving a hand through his thick, sandy brown locks, he sent her a quick glance through his lashes and slumped down a little bit more when he caught her incredible expression. Instead of hearing the loud exclamation he expected, the sound of her shoes clacking over the tile of the washroom was what his ears were met with. He looked up at her again just in time to sit up and lean back on his hands, allowing her to take a seat in his lap.

She threw her arms around his neck and laid a sweet, gentle kiss on his lips. Afterwards, she rested her forehead against his and began running her fingers through the hair that rested at the nape of his neck.

“I’m sorry,” she quietly said. “I should’ve been more understanding at first, but you have to realize how you spun this, Cedric. You pretended like you were doing this because you wanted it and for that to be true, then you would’ve had to have let all this talk of ‘eternal glory’ and 'monumental fame’ go to your head; I thought you’d become a prat!”

He chuckled a little at that and ran a hand down her spine, reveling in satisfaction when she shivered a little at his sensual touch. Thinking back, he realized that starting off that way hadn’t been the best approach and now he wished he would’ve just been honest with her from the beginning.

“You’re right and I’m sorry, but I didn’t want you to begin hating my father,” he said.

“Cedric, I would never hate your father, because I know he truly only wants the best for you; however, I don’t think he really knows what that is anymore.”

As she spoke, he grasped the fact that her words were true. His father had carelessly persuaded him into deciding that putting in his name for a competition like this was something that would elevate him to the levels of the greats that he so rightly admired-to the level in which he wanted him to rise to. This was dangerous though, and something that could very well result in his death. Still, he unquestionably knew that going back on his word and defying his father’s wishes was something that he’d never do. He’d go through with his plans on entering himself into the tournament and make it out alive, then make it a point to have a conversation with his father about the priorities he’d set out for his son.

“His judgment has been lacking a lot here lately, but I can’t go back on my promise, Bren.”

She stiffened in his arms again and only a few seconds later pushed her self away so to be able to stand again. A little confused, he stared up at her and watched as her red eyes began to water again. She started to breathe heavily as well and she balled her small hands into tiny fists at her sides.

“So that’s it then? You won’t listen to any reasoning?”

He said nothing, only merely looked down to the bathroom floor and leaned forward again. He folded his hands together and rested his elbows on his knees while letting out a slow, quiet exhale of air.

Seconds later, she was storming out, the sound of her shoes hammering against the tiled floor and the slam of the door vibrating through the big room.

Left alone now, he allowed the emotions he’d felt pushing at his eyes escape and dropped his head into his arms. He sobbed for the fact that he may’ve just lost the one thing that mattered most to him, that he’d allowed his fathers high expectations to guide him onto a path that had him struggling to be someone that he knew he never was supposed to be, and because of the fear that was slowly creeping up on him at the prospect of actually being chosen for such a petrifying competition.

He cried because he’d lost all in hope everything.