My name is Cedric, and I'm currently panicking—and deeply wounded.
A few days ago, I invited my good mate to join the Quidditch team for our grand ambitions, only to be brutally rejected.
He even advised me to just catch the Golden Snitch early to compensate for our weak Chasers and Keeper.
As if I own a Firebolt!
Today, I discovered the real truth—the one with the Firebolt wasn't me, but that absolute bastard!
...
Rewind to this morning.
Cedric woke up early—or more accurately, he'd barely slept all night.
Today marked his first training session as Quidditch Captain, and Cedric was so nervous he hadn't even felt this jittery upon becoming Prefect.
He still remembered Platform Nine and Three-Quarters months ago, when Wotley had clapped him on the shoulder before parting:
"Hufflepuff's future rests with you now. Bring home some trophies."
It felt like a passing of the torch. Back in his first year, he'd heard the previous captain say those very words to Wotley—and now it was his turn.
Since summer, Cedric had buried himself in professional Quidditch manuals, memorising tactics, formations, flight techniques and training methods.
Then, tailoring everything to Hufflepuff's situation, he'd devised thirty optimal strategies for their current lineup.
He'd learned this from Wood. Last term, he'd realised Hufflepuff's tactical play was embarrassingly weak—hence their loss to Gryffindor.
This year, determined to learn from past failures, he resolved to drill tactical awareness into his team from the very first session.
Waking at dawn, he didn't rush to gather the team—since Ravenclaw had booked the earliest pitch slot—instead waiting until nearly ten o'clock to assemble everyone.
There in the common room, he began with a briefing.
Looking at the teammates gathered around him, Cedric spoke up.
"Last year, we lost the championship we could have won due to overconfidence and carelessness."
Henderson hung his head in shame.
It had been his negligence in marking Harry last year that gave the other Seeker the chance to catch the Golden Snitch.
"But it's alright." Cedric patted Henderson's shoulder reassuringly before continuing, "Failure isn't entirely bad—at least it made us recognise our opponents' strength."
"Gryffindor has the strongest overall team. They've got that brilliant pair of twins, three Chasers with seamless coordination, Wood as an outstanding Keeper, and their Seeker..."
"I've no doubt Potter will make England's national team someday."
"They remain our biggest competitors this year. Our tactical training will focus primarily on countering Gryffindor's style."
The veteran players nodded in agreement while the newer ones looked somewhat lost.
"No need to be too nervous." Cedric said calmly, "We have our advantages too. Our brooms are far superior, and we've already identified their weakness."
"Potter." Henderson cut straight to the point. "Potter's mentality is poor. Once targeted, his performance crumbles."
"Exactly." Cedric gave him an approving look and clapped his hands.
"Come on, lads, today's our first training session this term. Let's show some spirit."
Bolstered by Cedric's encouragement, the team rallied, carrying their meticulously maintained Cleansweep Twos out of the castle towards the Quidditch Pitch.
Ravenclaw should have finished training by this time.
For the next two hours, the pitch would belong entirely to Hufflepuff.
Yet before they'd gone far, Cedric spotted figures streaking across the sky and frowned.
"Why are they still training?"
"Probably lost track of time," Henderson guessed. "We're on good terms with Ravenclaw—they're not as shameless as Slytherin."
"Let's check first." Cedric nodded and kept walking.
Noticing their approach, the Ravenclaw players descended. A tall boy came forward to meet Cedric.
"Sorry, Diggory. Got carried away—completely forgot the time."
The speaker was Roger Davies, Ravenclaw's new captain this year.
"No problem." Cedric smiled slightly. "Understandable after so long without flying."
"No, no, you don't understand." Roger grinned uncontrollably. "The Firebolt's incredible—absolutely the world's perfect broom. Just watching it fly is a joy."
"Firebolt?" Cedric froze.
"Cho, show Diggory!" Davies finally burst out laughing. "Our house's prettiest girl has a Firebolt."
"Davies." Cho emerged irritably from behind several teammates. "Of course, Cedric knows I have a Firebolt."
"Wait!" Cedric stared wide-eyed at the broom in Cho's hands. "This... this is really a Firebolt?"
The Hufflepuff team collectively turned to look.
Polished ash wood, graceful curves, and that distinctive silver handle.
How could any Quidditch enthusiast fail to recognise it?
"Cho, you actually bought a Firebolt?" Cedric looked thunderstruck, completely dumbfounded.
"You didn't know?" Cho appeared even more surprised than he was. "Wayne didn't tell you? He gave this to me."
"Wayne?!" The Hufflepuff team chorused in unison.
"What's going on?" Cedric pressed urgently.
Seeing his genuine confusion, Cho felt equally puzzled but explained the situation, though she omitted Wayne's connection to the Firebolt company.
Not only did she have one, but Hermione did too. Astoria was supposed to receive one as well, but the girl hadn't attended Flying Class last term due to health reasons, so the school hadn't permitted her to bring a broom.
Thus, Wayne hadn't given her one.
Upon learning Hermione also possessed a Firebolt, Cedric was utterly floored.
Watching the retreating figures of the Ravenclaw team, Henderson turned his head. "What now, Cedric? Do we continue training?"
Cedric snapped, "Train my arse! Go find Wayne immediately!"
Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined the first Firebolt he'd encounter would be in the hands of a classmate.
And a bloody opponent at that!
If Cho had one, and Hermione too, surely Wayne must own one himself?
Cedric wouldn't demand Wayne prevent Cho from using the Firebolt—that was her prerogative, and he had no right to interfere.
But mate, couldn't you lend your own house a hand?
The team scrambled back to the common room in a frenzy, failing to locate Wayne but finding Norman and Toby busily comparing homework assignments instead.
"Wayne? He went out early this morning. We don't know where he went."
"What's the hurry? Is something wrong?" Toby asked curiously.
"Wayne has a Firebolt. Help us look for him," Cedric said before leading the team to search other parts of the castle.
The badgers erupted in chatter—why hadn't they heard about this from Wayne?
First Norman and Toby, then eventually everyone rushed out to search the entire castle.
Along the way, they encountered several Gryffindor students and aligned their efforts.
When they learned Hermione also had a Firebolt, Wood trembled with excitement and immediately mobilised all available lions to join the search.
...
Meanwhile, inside the suitcase world...
Wayne remained completely unaware of the frenzy outside. After dancing with Hermione, the little witch had gotten thoroughly drunk and fallen asleep in his arms.
By the time she woke up, it was already afternoon.
The freshly awakened girl stretched like a kitten, letting out a sleepy sound.
"What shall we do next?" Hermione asked drowsily from Wayne's embrace.
"How about planting trees? One each," Wayne suggested. "When the saplings grow up, so will we."
"Brilliant!" Hermione's eyes lit up. She loved the idea and eagerly pulled Wayne to the edge of the forest.
"Let's do it here."
"Alright."
Wayne fetched two saplings and taught Hermione how to dig holes, secure the young trees, and finally cover them with soil to retain moisture.
Gazing at the saplings—still shorter than herself and Wayne—the girl clasped her hands and made this year's birthday wish.
"Grow up quickly, little trees!"
...
Evening.
After a near-perfect day, Hermione returned to the Gryffindor Common Room.
"She's back! Granger's back!" A young lion spotted her and shouted excitedly, startling her.
"Hermione! You finally showed up!" The twins sprang from the sofa where they'd been lounging.
"Where? Where?!"
Wood burst through the dormitory door. "Where's Granger?"
"What's wrong with all of you?" Hermione instinctively took two steps back.
Have they gone mad...?
"Hermione, did Wayne give you a Firebolt?" George asked eagerly.
After a brief hesitation, Hermione nodded. "Yes."
"Where is it?" Wood exclaimed. "Can we see it?"
"It's in my dorm. Wait here."
...
Meanwhile, in the Hufflepuff Common Room, Wayne faced a similar situation.
Before even reaching the basement, he encountered badgers still searching for him. They swarmed around him, ushering him back. The moment he entered, Cedric executed a perfect sliding kneel and latched onto his leg.
"Godfather! Your child needs your help!"
Wayne's face darkened. "I already told you, I really don't have time for Quidditch."
"Not that." Cedric's nose flushed red. "The Firebolt! I mean the Firebolt!"
"How could you not tell me about something this important?"
"Er, is it that big a deal?" Wayne looked puzzled. "It's just a broom..."
"No, not just one," Cedric said gravely. "It's over a dozen!"
"A Firebolt – more expensive than all the Slytherins' Nimbus 2001s combined. What's more, it's priceless and unavailable even if you have the money. How on earth did you get one?"
"I know the founder of the Firebolt company. We're on good terms." Wayne pulled his leg free. "Isn't it enough that I'm letting you use it?"
"Norman, check under my bed. There's a rectangular box with the broom inside."
"Got it!" Norman grabbed Toby and dashed into the dormitory corridor.
"Wayne... you're amazing." Cedric's eyes welled up. "From now on, my son shall be named Wayne Lawrence Diggory!"
"Piss off!" Wayne thumped him on the head. "If you actually dare name your son that, I'll steal your wife for sure!"
Rubbing his head in grievance, Cedric stared at him in confusion.
In Britain, naming one's descendants after elders or close friends was a sign of respect, just like how Harry later named one of his sons Albus Severus Potter.
But Wayne couldn't accept this tradition. Wasn't this just taking advantage of him?
Soon, Norman and Toby carried out the box containing the Firebolt.
Cedric immediately forgot all about his sons and rushed over.
He didn't even have a girlfriend yet – women paled in comparison to a Firebolt.
The broom was passed around as everyone admired it from every angle, with the Quidditch players – being the most knowledgeable about brooms – showering it with endless praise.
"I really want to try it out," Henderson sighed wistfully.
"It's too late today. We can wake up early tomorrow morning to make up for today's training session."
Though sorely tempted, Cedric suppressed his urge to take it for a spin since it was already dark outside.
Not a single player objected to the idea of early morning training – they were all eager to see the Firebolt's true performance.
After ten more minutes, the broom was carefully returned to its box. Cedric even added several alarm spells and protective enchantments before solemnly carrying it back to the dormitory.
The barrel door to the common room opened as someone entered, spotting Wayne immediately.
"Wayne, Potter and the Weasleys are waiting outside for you. There are loads of Gryffindors, too."
"Understood."
Wayne stepped out, with Cedric following curiously behind.
Their expressions turned utterly spectacular upon seeing several members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
"What's this, Harriet? There's no Potions class today."
Harry had transformed into Harriet again – and even more absurdly, he was wearing makeup?!
"Master Lawrence!" The twins flanked Wayne with mischievous grins. "Kind and generous master! If we became girls, would you gift us a Firebolt too?"
"Just one would do – we are twins after all~"
Wayne shuddered, pushing them away with magical power, his face impassive. "Keep disgusting me, and you'll spend tomorrow as giant baboons."
"Nononono!" Fred recoiled, hastily begging for mercy. "Just joking, don't take it seriously!"
"Harriet, quick, your turn now." Fred shot Harry a meaningful look.
Under the scrutiny of several team members, Harriet wore an expression of utter despair as he bowed deeply.
"Please, Wayne, let Hermione lend me the broom!"
Wayne asked in confusion, "That's Hermione's broomstick. Why are you asking me?"
"This was Hermione's idea," Wood quickly explained. "Hufflepuff and Gryffindor are competitors. She felt it wouldn't be appropriate."
"Her situation is different from Cho's. After all, Cho is playing herself, while her Firebolt would be lent to someone else."
"Wood," Cedric said unhappily, "the match hasn't even started yet. What makes you so sure you'll win?"
"It's a fact," Wood puffed out his chest. "Gryffindor will definitely win the championship two years in a row this year!"
"Of course, that's provided Lawrence allows us to use the Firebolt."
Wayne didn't answer immediately, instead looking at Cedric.
"What do you think?"
"I have no right to stop Hermione," Cedric said frankly. "Besides, Hufflepuff wouldn't use such methods to weaken our opponents. Use it if you want."
Though he'd learned some shamelessness from a certain someone and his moral boundaries had lowered somewhat, Cedric was still that kind-hearted little badger at heart.
In the original story, when Harry fainted due to a sudden Dementor attack, Cedric had actively requested a rematch, only to be refused by Wood.
"I see," Wayne nodded. Both Harry and Wood looked delighted.
"In principle, I don't oppose it. But I have one more question."
Wayne pointed at Harry. "Borrowing the broom is one thing, but why did you come here looking like this?"
Harriet lowered her head sheepishly and said weakly, "It... it was Ron's idea. He said you weren't good at refusing girls' requests."
Cedric: "..."
Wayne: "..."