six — the sun

upright: positivity, good luck, success.

reversed: negativity, depression, sadness.

( alternatively: dragons and golden eggs, oh my! )

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IT STARTS WITH the fluttering of wings and the rustling of paper. A sharp intake of breath is next, accompanied by gasps and whispers as the familiar clinking of utensils against golden plates fills the silence between. It spreads like wildfire, racing down the tables and leaping across divides with well-placed words and exaggerated hand movements. It's a dark, nervous energy that pulsates beneath the otherwise excited atmosphere cloaking the castle.

The younger students are mostly unaffected, chatting away with faces painted and cheery grins stretching across wondering faces as they made guesses about the possibilities of what the First Task might hold, arguing amicably about who would come out on top.

It's the older students that show signs of strain, smiles a bit too tight, hands covering mouths as they whisper to their neighbor, newspapers being passed around in careful consideration to ensure no wandering eyes of younglings caught sight of the bloody images flickering on the pages. Shoulders touching, heads hunched together, the news spreads rapidly.

Verity is staring down at the copy of the Daily Prophet she'd borrowed from Imogen, jaw clenched tight enough for her teeth to start aching as she reads. The newspaper crinkles underneath her tight grip, her lips thinning as her stomach bottoms out, fear looming over her.

The words start to blur together— tortured for information, severe lacerations, all three Unforgivable Curses, cryptic message, blood, murder, murderer, killer, bloodmurdermessagemurderertorture —and she forces her fingers to loosen up, swallowing thickly as she sets the newspaper down on the table. The continuously moving picture of Kang Mi Sun looks around in a state of serenity, a soft smile on coral painted lips matching her equally vibrant earrings.

Verity thinks she's going to be sick.

She doesn't protest as Imogen reclaims the newspaper, turning her attention to the food on her plate, the image of the bloody message on the wall imprinted in her brain. Her simple breakfast of beans and toast didn't look so appetizing anymore.

HEAR YOUR EVIL, SEE YOUR EVIL

The general public may be stumped as to who could commit such a heinous crime, and as much as Verity wished to deny it, she knew who'd killed Mi Sun.

"Vera, you good?"

Verity looks up at Imogen, her friend's dark skin painted with a patch of yellow and the number 7 in black prominent against the bright background in support of Cedric, mirroring the paint on Verity's own cheek. Her multitude of braids are pulled back into an elaborate hairstyle, vaguely resembling the raised hackles of an animal.

No, she thinks bitterly, my murderous aunt is back and I'm almost positive she left that message for me and my dad is likely hunting her down as we speak. Sure, my dad is considered a powerful Auror, but my aunt is considered one of the most powerful witches alive and also one, if not the, most dangerous. Cornered animals are a lot fiercer than their free counterparts, and she may not consider herself cornered now, but my dad does his job well and eventually she will feel the walls closing in and I'm afraid of the day she realizes evading him is futile.

But it's only breakfast and already the First Task has been tainted by the shocking murder, so Verity just shrugs, "I'm alright. I feel really bad for Lovelace though."

Imogen hums sympathetically, "Yeah, that whole thing is fucked up, isn't it? I met her once you know, she was incredibly kind and apparently she donates most of her earnings to various charities. I'm not saying anyone should get murdered but... why are the kindest ones always the first ones to go?"

"The good die young," Verity says quietly.

"Yeah," Imogen frowns, stabbing her scrambled eggs half-heartedly for a moment before saying, "I was going to wait to see your expression when we got there, but do you want me to tell you about the First Task to cheer you up? You're going to lose it."

"You know what it is?" Verity asks curiously.

Imogen grins, "Oh yes."

Her friend's enthusiasm is contagious and Verity leans across the table, pushing her rapidly darkening thoughts to the back of her mind, Imogen mimicking her movement, "You can't just leave it at that!"

Imogen's grin widens and Verity barely registers someone sitting down next to her as Imogen whispers, "Dragons."

"Dragons?" Verity repeats slowly.

"Dragons." Imogen confirms.

"No way."

"Yes way."

"Is this a prank like in second year?"

"Not this time, cross my heart."

"Promise?"

"I promise. Dragons Vera, there's fucking dragons at Hogwarts."

Verity's mind short-circuits for a split second as she processes the word. Then she processes what that implied and she, true to Imogen's words and for lack of a better phrase, loses it.

"HOLY SHIT!"

Heads swivel in her direction but she doesn't care, a smile so large it threatens to split her face in two accompanied by a restless energy making its appearance. She scrambles to her feet, forsaking her breakfast and ignoring the startled underclassman next to her that she likely had given a mild heart attack. Imogen laughs at her actions and gets up, following Verity as she hurries through the Great Hall, her heart racing with excitement.

She's so wrapped up in Imogen's news and the questions that were sparked from it— What breed of dragons did they bring? Where did they bring them from? They weren't going to hurt them were they? Oh if the dragons got hurt Verity was going to have words with Dumbledore, politeness be damned —she almost slams into Cedric. 

Thankfully, he's paying attention and he quickly grabs her shoulders before she runs into him, and she freezes, looking up.

"Oh."

Cedric laughs, "Nice to see you too."

"She has a one track mind right now," Imogen comments, sliding up next to Verity and slinging an arm around her shoulders.

Cedric takes one look at Verity, who's uncharacteristically beaming and brimming with energy, before sighing, "I thought we agreed the dragons were going to be a surprise?"

"I didn't tell her." Imogen says innocently, only to snicker when Cedric looks at her with narrowed eyes.

"Uh-huh, sure you didn't."

"Well, to be fair, she looked like a kicked puppy while reading the Daily Prophet. You would've done the same thing, Diggory."

"Wait, you knew about the dragons?" Verity interrupts, frowning up at Cedric, "And you didn't tell me?"

He rubs the back of his neck, "Well, to be fair, I only found out yesterday because Harry told me... then Imogen found out because I was looking for you and ran into her. She thought it might be a good idea for it to be a surprise, and I agreed," he smiles a bit sheepishly, "you've been really stressed lately and we thought the surprise of seeing the dragons today would be fun for you."

"Well in that case, I guess I can forgive you," Verity says, the three starting to walk towards the courtyards, "but I have to ask, you're not going to have to hurt the dragon are you?"

Cedric stuffs his hands in his robe pockets, "I don't think so. From what I was able to find out, I think the goal is to steal something from them. But don't worry, alright? I'm sure Dumbledore knows you'd chew off his head, all the other judges heads, and the Ministry members heads if the dragons were brought here for something like that."

"Damn right she would," Imogen chimes in, "knowing Vera she'd set them on fire herself for putting the precious creatures in harm's way."

Her cheeks burn, "Okay okay, we all get it, I like dragons."

"Like?" Cedric grins down at her, "Vera you love dragons."

He drags out the word love and she scowls playfully at him, "Oh hush."

As they make their way to the arena that had been constructed overnight, several people stop to wish Cedric luck, clapping him on the shoulder or shooting him broad smiles and thumbs ups. Verity watches Cedric as they near a fork in the road, the main path leading up to the arena and a secondary path leading down to a tent where the Champions were to wait for their turn.

He's growing quiet, his smile a little more forced, his magic flickering around him in pulsating waves. The core of Cedric's magic was the gentlest color of sage green Verity had ever seen, with his secondary colors being composed of sparkling silver and dove gray. It was one of the most soothing mixtures she'd seen.

He notices her stare as they come to a stop, Imogen muttering something about finding good seats before walking ahead.

"What?" Cedric asks curiously.

There's a lot of things she could say, things like: You're a brilliant wizard, you're going to be fine. I know your family holds you to a high standard and you hold yourself to an even higher standard, it's okay to be nervous about something like this and I want you to know that no matter what happens, they'll be proud of you. I'll be proud of you too, hell, I'm already proud of you, you brave fool.

But she's never been one to give the motivational speeches, in all honesty, that was more of Cedric's job, so instead settles on something she does best, giving information.

"Dragons are apex predators," she begins, "they will likely view you as an annoying pest. Instead of being a stupid hero, distract it, give them something to chase. Or put it to sleep, sneak around it, something like that. Don't face it head on."

He grins weakly at her words, his face is a bit pale, "Don't be an idiot, got it."

"And," she hesitates for a moment before reaching into her jacket pocket, pulling out a card and offering it to him, "I was worried, and if I'm this worried just thinking about the First Task, I assumed you'd be worried as well. I figured you could do with a bit of pocket luck."

Cedric takes the tarot card, looking down at it, his face falling into one of thoughtfulness as he runs his fingers over the design, "...this is my card, isn't it?"

Back in fourth year, Verity had let it slip that when she did frequent drawings for individuals, she began to associate a specific card with them and that card would always appear first during drawings. When she was alone, she didn't mind revealing the card, but whenever she did drawings for Cedric she refused to let him see his card; partially because she was a little embarrassed that his card directly correlated to the nickname she called him in her head, partially because it was fun to see him attempt to find out what card was his.

"Maybe," Verity says softly, "maybe not. I'm not gonna tell you."

A field of sunflowers take up most of the lower half of the card, gradually growing smaller as a hill slopes upwards. The silhouette of a young man is at the top of the hill, hands stretched overhead and cupped together. The sun glistens in his hands, rays of light streaming across the upper half of the card and disappearing behind the faceless figure.

"Tell me what it means," he prompts her, still looking down at the card.

"I drew it upright," she recites easily, "and when the Sun is upright it represents joy, success, celebration, and positivity. However, most importantly in this situation, it represents good luck."

Cedric looks up at her and he smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling from sincerity, "Thank you."

When he goes to hand it back she tucks her hands into her pockets, "Consider it on loan. I don't know if you can have it with you in the task, but at least keep it close by. I do expect it back afterwards though."

He retracts his hand, still holding the card carefully, "I won't lose it."

Verity grins, "I know you won't, because if you do, I'll kick your ass."

Cedric laughs, "That's fair. I'll see you soon."

They part ways, Cedric picking his way down the rocky terrain to the striped tent and Verity trudging her way uphill to the vast arena stretching overhead.

"It's miss perfect Prefect!" A voice crows in joy and the next things Verity knows, she's wedged between two familiar redheads. George and Fred grin down at her and like always, it's a little disorienting to see two people so similar in looks perform the exact same expression at the exact same time.

Verity briefly wonders if they practice their synchronicity.

"Hello Vera," a voice chirps from next to Fred and she looks to the right, where Fianna Jones is walking next to Lee Jordan.

"Hey Fi," Verity greets her fellow Prefect, the Hufflepuff sporting her house colors while the Gryffindors around them are decked out in red and gold.

"Hey Fi," George mimics her and she looks over at him, "no hello Fred lovely to see you or my my is that a new scarf, it really brings out the color of your eyes? I see how it is, I thought we were friends, Finch."

Without missing a beat, Verity looks away from George and over at Fred, "Hello Fred, lovely to see you," she reaches up and tugs at the scarf around his neck, "my my, is that a new scarf? Really brings out the color of your eyes."

Fred grins wickedly, "Lovely to see you too, Finch. Nice cheek paint, wrong color though."

"How do you do that?" George asks and she looks over at him, finding him frowning at her in contemplation.

"Do what?"

"Tell us apart."

She shrugs, "You're two separate people, it's not rocket science."

"Rocket what?"

Verity laughs, "Muggle saying, sorry. All I'm getting at is you're two people who look remarkably similar, it doesn't mean you're the same person. Once you start noticing the little differences, it's easy to tell you two apart."

That was a big fat lie. When she was with one of the twins, it was fairly easy to tell who was who, but when they were around each other it was disorienting to figure out which one was which. They didn't have outstanding habits that would define them, such as George always standing on her left and Fred always standing on her right, because they would switch around as easily as breathing, just how they tossed their names around.

Their magic imprints, on the other hand, were extraordinarily different.

If Verity had to describe Fred's magic as though it was weather, it would be summer rain. Dark teal ran in streams with veins of storm-tinged white against a background of rich forest green. It reminded her of the day she'd gotten caught in a July rainstorm in the middle of a rainforest, the already dark leaves drinking in the vibrant rain as lightning streaked across the sky. Chaotic, beautiful, finicky.

And if she had to describe George's magic in a similar fashion, it would be autumn. Mustard yellow mingled with a vibrant red and muted orange. It always tugged at a distant memory, now faded with time, of running down a cobblestone pathway strewn with leaves that were a medley of all three colors, cold air tugging playfully at her hair as she catches sight of her father waiting at the doorway with open arms. Playful, warm, energetic.

George and Fred exchange a look before the latter snickers, "No need to play nice, you can just tell George he's the uglier twin."

George gasps loudly, "As if! Everyone knows that my looks are superior to yours."

"You practically have the same face, and you're both ugly," Fianna tells them matter-of-factly with a teasing smile from next to Fred, causing Lee to let out a booming laugh, "Vera is out of both of your leagues."

This sparks another argument between the twins as they reach the doors of the arena, the stands already comfortably full. Verity looks around for Imogen as they walk up the stairs, finally locating her friend who looks as if she's in the midst of a heated conversation with Niko. The Russian looks wholeheartedly amused by whatever Imogen is saying, though his face is pinched slightly as if he's trying to refrain from laughing.

"Excuse me," Verity says as she squeezes past George, smiling as she slides into the empty spot next to Imogen.

"Vera, you will not believe what I found out about these two," Imogen gestures first to Niko and then to Anastasia who's standing next to them, "they don't know who the Manifestations are!"

She sounds positively scandalized by this and Verity quickly understands why Niko is so close to bursting into laughter. The Manifestations were Imogen's favorite wizarding band, the teenager being a die-hard fan for years. If their music was a god, Imogen was their most loyal follower, devoting hours to listening to their albums and gushing over the lyrics. It was one of the few topics that could get her onto a seemingly never-ending tangent, more than happy to impart her wisdom of the band upon others.

"Oh no," Verity comments dryly, "guess we can't be friends with you lot anymore."

Niko finally loses his internal battle and cackles, distorting the black and maroon stripes on his face. He's also wearing a quidditch jersey, also black and maroon, his last name cresting over the number 3 embroidered on the front. Opposite the number is the Durmstrang crest, though in addition to the firebird there was an infinity symbol underneath.

Anastasia rolls her eyes from next to him, the only sign of her support for Viktor a single maroon stripe underneath one of her eyes, "Calm down Niko, you're going to break a rib."

"Do you play Quidditch?"

Verity startles at the sound of George's voice appearing next to her, the twins having finally caught up with her. The tall ginger is peering around Verity towards Niko curiously.

Niko brightens, "Yes! I am Keeper. Do you play?"

Fred pops up next to George, "Do we play? Of bloody course we do, best Beaters in the world."

The stands are now bursting at the seams and Verity finds herself standing shoulder to shoulder with George on her left and Imogen on her right, the ginger now thoroughly invested in his conversation with Niko who's on the other side of Imogen. She leans forward on the wooden railing, peering down at the jagged terrain below.

Her stomach churns a little as she realizes how high up they are and she squeezes her eyes shut, a little faint headed.

"You know, I'm a bit disappointed," George's words float in the corner of her vision, "I expected you to show up decked from head to toe in yellow for Diggory."

Verity turns her head to look over at him, finding that he's mirrored her stance, elbows propped on the railing, hands clasped loosely together. He smiles at her and she realizes that he has a cluster of freckles concentrated on his left cheekbone almost perfectly diagonal from the corner of his eye. They look as though they could belong to a constellation.

"I'll make sure to dye my hair yellow for the next task," she tells him, "might need your help though, since you're good at that sort of thing."

His smile turns into a pointed grin, impish in nature, "I've been told I'm rather good at hair charms."

"On second thought, I won't. Knowing you, you'd dye my hair red for Harry."

"Probably," he agrees easily.

The boom of a canon catches both of their attentions and they jump as cheers erupted around them. Students are decked out in a variety of colors (scarlet and gold for Harry, various shades of blue for Fleur, maroon for Viktor, yellow and black for Cedric) and several homemade banners are being waved about.

Verity's face goes slack with awe as a dragon roars, silvery-blue scales refracting the sunlight around it. Brilliant blue flames flicker in its gaping jaws, intelligent golden eyes taking in its surroundings as it crouches protectively over a golden egg.

"Merlin's beard," she breathes out, "that's a Swedish Short-Snout."

It takes her a moment to realize everyone around her has started to chant Cedric's last name and she watches a lone figure appear in the mouth of a tiny cave in the distance. She jostles her leg up and down as she watches Cedric crawl upwards, biting her lower lip in worry. He looked so small compared to the dragon and she doesn't realize she's holding her breath until her lungs start to ache.

She takes a shaky breath of relief as Cedric transforms a nearby rock into a dog, watching as the dragon immediately starts tracking it. It isn't long before it begins to hunt the dog and Cedric scoops up the golden egg, turning his back to the dragon and starting back to the cave entrance.

"LOOK OUT!"

Her scream is lost amongst the screeching of the crowd as the dragon whips around, blue flames curling around sharp teeth as it roars in anger. Cedric is running now and Verity can feel the wind from the dragon's wings as it flaps them from where she's standing, her heart in her throat. She can feel her heart skip a beat as flames crash into Cedric right as he reaches the entrance of the cave. She's vaguely able to understand the message Dumbledore casts (Cedric's alright, just a little burnt but he completed the task in excellent time) and she forces herself to breath.

"Are you okay?" George has to lean down a little to talk to her, his breath warm against her ear as the crowd goes wild, his words nearly lost in the sound.

It's then that Verity realizes that at some point during the task, she'd grabbed George's arm in fear, fingers curled around the soft fabric of his robes, the whites of her knuckles prominent.

"Sorry," she unravels her fingers, her heartbeat pulsating in her ears, "I just-"

He laughs, still incredibly close, the heat of his body melding with hers, "Feel free to grab me anytime you're scared, Finch."

Verity goes to respond only to lose her train of thought as another dragon is brought out. She doesn't grab George's arm again, though she nearly does when the dragon Harry Potter was trying to steal from (Hungarian Horntail; spiky, ill-tempered, and utterly terrifying. Verity adores her.) breaks free of its confinements. By the time the First Task if over, Verity thinks she may have had a few heart attacks and has never been more thankful that she didn't actually enter the tournament.

She follows her friends out the arena in a daze, half-heartedly listening to Imogen and Niko as they talk rapidly about the task. Sometime during their departure they'd lost the twins and their friends, though it was likely the twins were going to collect the bets they'd made.

She hesitates as they're passing the path that leads down to the tent, and Imogen casts a knowing look at her before guiding Niko and Anastasia away.

Verity nearly falls a handful of times as she makes her way to the Champion tent, peering inside and finding it mostly empty. Fleur is in one corner, talking to a young girl that looks similar enough to her Verity assumes they must be sisters. Cedric is in one of the beds, a rather unattractive orange goop covering part of his face.

He tries to smile when he sees her, but the goop drags down part of his mouth, making his smile rather... pathetic. Verity almost laughs.

"I love the new look," she tells him, coming to a stop in front of the bed.

He narrows his eyes at her, "No you don't."

Without being able to move part of his mouth, his words come out funny and it takes her a moment to realize what he said.

"I think you should recreate this," she continues, "maybe for the Yule Ball. Personally, I think Cho will finding it dashing—"

Cedric throws a pillow at her and she neatly sidesteps, watching it sail past.

"You're so mature, Cho's gonna love that too."

He flips her off.

"Guess you don't want your present then," he mumbles, the words crashing together.

Verity's eyebrows pinch together, "Present?"

He smiles and the orange goop, which she realizes is dried, cracks a little. He digs around in his pockets for a moment before curling his hand around something, obscuring it from her sight. She walks closer to him and holds out her hands at his behest, sighing as he motions for her to close her eyes as well.

"Open your eyes!"

Something wiggles in her palms and she slowly opens her eyes. She gasps and holds her hands up closer to her face, "Oh it's so cute."

A miniature Swedish Short-Snout turns in her palm, its little maw opening in a squeaky roar, small wings flapping a few times before settling back against her side. It peers up at her with golden eyes and sneezes, blue flames shooting out of its nostrils.

She cradles her cupped hands to her chest and looks at Cedric, unable to stop smiling, "I can really keep her?"

He nods, his words a little clearer now that his mouth wasn't frozen, "Yeah, though the charm may wear off soon. We can ask Flitwick to see if he knows how to keep her animated."

"Ms. Finch," Verity turns around at Madame Pomphrey's voice. The old woman smiles kindly at her, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave. I need to finish healing Mr. Diggory."

Verity bids Cedric goodbye and leaves the tent, focusing on the tiny dragon in her hands. The iridescent creature has curled up into a small ball, tiny trails of smoke emitting from its nose. As she climbs up to the main path she beings to brainstorm names (Ciana, Atlanta, Iseult, and Poem all come to mind) and she decided to write a letter to her father when she returned to tell him about the tiny dragon.

There's someone at the top of the path and Verity slows down, finally looking up from the dragon, "George?"

He turns around when she speaks, opening his mouth only to pause, looking down at her hands with an surprised look in his eyes, "Er... is that a dragon?"

Verity comes to a stop next to him and nods, holding up her hands so he can see the dragon better, "Yeah! Cedric gave it to me, it's what they used to decide which Champion got which dragon. It's the Swedish Short-Snout, which are one of the few dragon species to have a different colored flame. However, despite the blue of the flame, it's not cold like people assume. It's just really, really hot. Isn't that so cool?"

He leans down a little to see it better, "You must really like dragons if you know all that off the top of your head."

Embarrassment flashes through her and her cheeks heat up a little. Her love for dragons was considered normal when she was younger, but after being teased for it third year by a few older Gryffindors, she'd stopped talking about it unless she was around Cedric, Imogen, or her father.

"I, yeah, I do." Her voice is quieter than she'd like it to be and she quickly clears her throat when George looks at her, an odd look in his eyes.

"That's cool, dragons are pretty neat. Have you named it?" He asks, straightening up and beginning to walk.

Verity falls into step next to him, "Not yet. Any suggestions?"

He looks down at the sleeping dragon and reaches out, nudging it with his pointer finger. It grumbles and opens one eye, hissing. A few blue sparks fly out of its mouth and he promptly says, "Sparky."

"...Sparky?"

He nods, "That's clearly the perfect name."

"Clearly." She says dryly.

"What are you doing the rest of today?" He suddenly asks, tilting his head back to look up at the clouds, a thoughtful look on his face.

She blinks at the sudden change of subject, "Um, homework probably. Maybe a nap."

"So if I were to kidnap you for the rest of the day, you wouldn't protest?"

Verity shrugs and looks up at him curiously, "Not really, why? What do you have in mind?"

George looks down at her with a sly smile, "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

thanks for reading!

fun fact, i fell in love with Niko and Anastasia so now I have a fic for them and Viktor! it's called Idle Worship if you'd like to check it out.

let me know what you think :)