After a few weeks of serious training, the entire Hufflepuff team was convinced that they were as prepared as they could be to take on Gryffindor. On the morning of the match, the common room was abuzz with talk about the celebration they would surely have that night.
As the teams walked out onto the pitch, Eliot and Harry waved at one another. The Hufflepuff Captain scowled at Eli, then looked to the Gryffindor team and chuckled. "Hey, Wood! Heard you had a first-year on the team!"
"And you don't?" The Gryffindor Captain gestured to Eliot. "Your Beater looks a bit small to me."
"I'm a second-year, but I'll have you know I beat out a sixth-year for this spot!" Eliot's voice cracked in a way that made him sound significantly less threatening than he'd meant to. Cedric suppressed a laugh.
Wood grinned. "I suppose we'll soon find out just how bad that sixth-year was, eh?"
Eliot laughed, and the Hufflepuff Captain stomped on his foot to shut him up. Eliot didn't really understand the need for such rivalry and seriousness. Quidditch was a game, after all, and he saw no reason to dislike anyone who hadn't wronged him.
He looked around the stands and suddenly felt queasy. The whole school had shown up to the match. Even Dumbledore was there. He shuddered. How was he meant to focus with Dumbledore there?
Eliot's love for Quidditch still hadn't dwindled despite the captain's disdain for him, but he realized it wasn't all grand. This match was particularly miserable for all involved. Snape was refereeing, and even worse, three of the seven Gryffindor players were Eliot's close friends: Harry, Fred, and George. As much as Eliot wanted to win, he had a hard time hitting Bludgers at his friends, no matter how much Fred and George hit them at him. Eliot's inability to do his job may or may not have been a contributing factor to Hufflepuff losing the match despite Snape sabotaging the game in their favor. Eliot insisted Harry caught the Snitch too quickly for it to make a difference, but his teammates didn't buy it. The other Beater, Anna, insisted that she had been the same way in her early days and told the rest of the team to leave Eli alone, but they were too livid to listen. Even worse, as the year went on, Eliot found himself befriending Katie Bell. Even Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain, would chat with him from time to time. If they all made the team again the following year, Eliot feared he might have no one left to hit Bludgers at. But it couldn't be that way. Next time, he would have to do better. The match wasn't all bad, though: Fred hit a Bludger directly at Snape, much to the delight of the other students.
Due to Hufflepuff's devastating loss, their Quidditch Captain demanded they practice four times a week rather than three. Everyone on the team was a bit disgruntled about it, especially the seventh-year Chaser who was worried about finding the time to study for her N.E.W.T.s. Eliot didn't mind it. He liked Quidditch practice, and as a second-year, he had a slightly easier time balancing his lighter load of coursework with Quidditch.
Eliot was always early to practice. He felt awkward, almost stupid, changing in the locker room with everyone else there. They were all at least a year older than him and had already evened out. Eliot, an oddly-proportioned and still growing twelve-year-old (nearly thirteen if you asked him, though he wouldn't turn thirteen until early May), felt out of place amongst them. Even Cedric, having just turned fourteen, was more pleasing to look at — not that Eliot was looking. He definitely had not looked, and certainly had never stared, at least not long enough for anyone to notice. The fact that he even wanted to look confused and upset Eliot, so he always got to practice as early as possible to avoid the situation altogether. It was easier not to think about it.
However, on one particularly cold December morning, Eliot walked into the locker room to find a shirtless Cedric already there.
"Oh, hey, Eli." Cedric smiled, not bothering to cover up his muscular chest, much to the annoyance of Eliot. "What're you doing here so early?"
Eliot's face grew hot, and he shook his head, desperately hoping the blush wasn't visible. He looked up at the ceiling and willed his body to cooperate. "I always get here early. I tend to be late to things, I don't want that to be the case for Quidditch." This wasn't exactly a lie. He had a poor sense of how long it might take him to walk anywhere, especially with the staircases having a mind of their own, and was often late to class because of it. It just wasn't exactly the case for Quidditch.
"I see. Well, I was just gonna do a bit of warm-up flying beforehand, would you like to join me?" Cedric asked, finally pulling on a shirt.
Eliot tried to look at Cedric, but ended up looking down at his feet. "Um, no, thanks," He mumbled.
"Alright. Your loss, kid." Cedric shrugged. He smiled at Eliot as he left the room, and Eliot's stomach flipped. He sat down on a bench and sighed.
What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he act normal in front of Cedric? They'd always been friends, it shouldn't have felt as strange as it was. Luckily, Cedric was either oblivious or ignoring it, because he didn't seem to mind. Eliot wasn't sure what to make of all of his feelings. He definitely couldn't talk to Cedric about it. He wondered if Fred might understand. Eliot could swear he'd seen Fred stare too long at a boy here and there, the way George stared at girls, but maybe he was just imagining it to feel less alone. He thought for a moment about asking Remus, but quickly brushed that idea aside. He could talk to Remus about anything, but this was different. Eliot knew it wasn't necessarily wrong or bad to like boys — Remus made sure he knew that — but it still felt like something he might not understand fully. Eliot decided that his feelings for Cedric were something he'd have to work out on his own.