FIC: Trip Like I Do (Cedric/Petunia)

Nov 10, 2008 10:40

Title: Trip Like I Do
Pairing: Cedric/Petunia
Prompt: Challenge #7 - the Dursleys
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1165
Summary: Petunia and the acid trip of doom, complete with snogfest and a battle with an alien.
Author's Notes: Thanks to peskywhistpaw and phil_urich for supplying prompts. :D Title comes from the Crystal Method song of the same name, and there's a reference somewhere in here to the song "Mellow Yellow" by Donovan. This is in the same 'verse as the Subliminal Series, but it is not an addendum to the series - I only decided to stick with second-person because it didn't seem right any other way. Finally, I started this before we posted Challenge #7 at rarepair_shorts, but I'm cross-posting it anyway because it fits the bill.

ALSO: this is rather crack-y (if the summary isn't indicator enough) and potentially may squick you if you're not a Cedric/Petunia fan, so proceed at your own risk.

Apologies for the long Author's Notes. ;)


It's the middle of the day, and the street is quiet. Vernon's gone, Dudley's gone, all the neighbors are gone - except for eighty-year-old Mrs. Number Five with the twenty-five feral cats and the wardrobe of a schoolmarm, and Mr. Number Two with the gold teeth and who drools on himself when he sleeps. Not worth spying on them, the blasted old fogies.

Weekdays are dreadful.

What were you supposed to do when there was no handsome Mr. Number Six to idolize? With no peeking on Miss Number Seven and her turbulent love affairs? With no Ms. Number Three to gossip with?

What the bloody hell were you supposed to do for recreation?

You think about that for a minute, and a ridiculous notion suddenly pops into your head.

Acid.

It's completely mad, you know, and only the low-lifes do it, but honestly, you need a scandal (that's how you thrive on Number Four Privet Drive, after all), and there isn't a sodding scandal - so you just have to make one for yourself, damn it!

So: acid. You'll go bleeding barmy if you do nothing all day.

* * *

You blink. Multiple times. And still, this room is anything but 'Claritin-clear'.

Why is it so bleeding foggy? You can't see a blasted thing, just spots of red and yellow and green. Red and yellow and green and red and yellow and...

You were wrong, this isn't fun; this is outright ludicrous and shameful and you can't believe you'd even considered it at all. You are Petunia Dursley, a fine, upstanding citizen on Privet Drive who just wants a little time to enjoy herself, thank you - you don't do acid cocktails.

(Red and yellow and green...)

"Thanks for clearing that up," a voice says wryly, a deep, beautiful voice.

You've heard it before - is it...?

"Yeah," the voice confirms. "I'm Cedric."

"Cedric," you sigh, your cold, tough exterior melting - literally, you notice absently - into a pool of gelatin before you. "Cedric."

"Er, right. Now that we've established - "

"Lovely," you say in the same breathy, dreamy voice. "Lovely, lovely, lovely colors."

Cedric steps backward, eyebrows knitted together in bewilderment. "Well, er... thank you, Mrs. Dursley."

You flinch. The pool of gelatin fizzles for a few seconds, and then stills. "Oh please, not Dursley!" you cry. "Not Dursley! Petunia."

"Okay... er, Petunia." He bows awkwardly.

"Gooood." Closing your eyes contentedly, you will him to say your name again.

"Petunia."

You want to hear it a thousand times more, you want to hear it forever - because only he says your name like it really does mean 'flower'.

"Petunia."

Oh, what a wonderful dream this is - just you and Cedric and you and Cedric and lovely red and green and yellow...

You exhale, and lean forward to smell the air. And as you do, you feel him lean forward as well.

(Red and yellow and green...)

Softly, innocently, his lips brush yours, his breath warm and tingling. You taste a hint of peppermint - or perhaps you imagine the peppermint, because when you actually think about it, it does seem too cliché to be real. But anyway, it's a nice thing to imagine.

He cups your chin in his soft hands. You twist your fingers in his hair.

(Red and yellow and green...)

Teeth and tongue and lips crush into each other; you don't know where you end or where he ends because you're so absorbed...

This is love - or something very close.

When you look up, you see the intensity in his eyes, and it makes you feel... extraordinary, even pretty. And you - though you constantly strive for normalcy - you love this sensation.

But then, when you actually look at him - not just his eyes, but his whole figure - you notice something highly disconcerting. You step backward, horrified.

"You're - green."

Cedric blinks, not sure what to say. "Sorry?"

Pounding, your heart is pounding - could be a sign of vitality, or of butterflies in the stomach. You don't deny having either at this moment. Though it also could mean a heart attack, because you have hit that age... but clearly, you're mellow (red and yellow and green). Very mellow.

So. You might be mad about saffron, but this green Cedric isn't at all attractive.

What the bloody hell happened? The idea was to have a good trip. How can you have a good trip when Cedric is so -

"Green. Like an alien," you manage to croak in reply, because you feel about to vomit. There is a horrible churning in the pit of your stomach; what used to be 'butterflies' is now undeniably full-blown nausea.

"Er, Mrs. Dursley, are you - ?"

"NO, I'M NOT FINE, YOU IDIOT!" you lash out at Cedric - whom, it must be noted, you at one point called 'Wonder Boy'. The fact that you can no longer stand the sight of 'Wonder Boy' is a mark of how awful this trip is turning out.

What kind of fun is this? You knew it, you knew it from the beginning that this would not bode well - you yourself are a sodding fool for ever believing in acid as a form of recreation.

"AND DON'T YOU CALL ME 'MRS. DURSLEY'!"

"Okay, Petunia, calm down," Cedric says nervously, shrinking away slightly from your sudden demonic presence - but at least he has the good grace to call you by your preferred name.

He braves a step forward, hoping to subdue you in his arms - but you won't have it. You don't want an alien touching you!

"GET AWAY - !"

"Petunia, please - "

"STOP IT!"

"Petunia, calm down!"

"SOD OFF, ALIEN!"

"'Alien'?" Cedric frowns, letting go of your shoulders. The struggle stops. "Is that what this is about?"

You say nothing; instead, you only sneer at him.

But he isn't taken aback - in fact, he laughs. He's relieved.

"Oh! You think I look like an alien?"

You blink. And this is cause for relief?

"Haven't I been saying that?"

"Well, I'm not green," Cedric says triumphantly - grinning now.

"Right," you respond, richly sarcastic - everything's still red and yellow and green... Cedric included.

And then you realize... you haven't been acting very mellow the last few minutes.

"That's odd," you say to yourself, in a strange, tiny voice, as you slump to the ground.

"It's the Claritin - it's non-drowsy," Cedric explains. "Made your cocktail a little more aggressive." He sits on the floor beside you, and pulls you into an embrace. Gratefully, you rest your head on his chest, feeling his strong heartbeat pulsing against your cheek.

The two of you remain like this for what seems like an eternity, neither of you uttering a word. (Red and yellow and green...)

Cedric gently kisses you on the forehead, and you smile. This moment - the sweetest, most mellow moment you could ever imagine - makes up for the whole, previously awful ordeal.

"Mmm, best," you murmur happily.

"Yeah?"

"Best... trip."

And then you fall asleep in Cedric's arms...

Except Cedric was only ever part of the hallucination.

het, community: rarepair_shorts, genre: crack, character: cedric diggory, character: petunia dursley, ship: cedric/petunia, fandom: harry potter, writing: fanfiction, rating: pg-13

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