Fic: And This is Goodbye: Perfection
Title: And This is Goodbye: Perfection
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Cho/Cedric, Cho/Harry; mostly gen
Notes: I don't know what the title's supposed to mean
Summary: How do you let go of someone you never had?
Life is eternal and love is immortal;
And death is only a horizon,
And a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight
-Rossiter W. Raymond
Roger wants to date me, Cedric, can you imagine that? Date me. Oh, it makes me want to laugh, it does. I hate to tell him that I'm sick of dating, that I want a relationship. There is a difference, however subtle. The boy won't let up even though I think I've been turning him down ever since fourth year.
I suppose I ought to be flattered, everyone says I should, but don't you think that's silly? To be grateful that someone wants you?
Well, it seems silly to me. You always did used to tell me that I shouldn't judge my worth on how others see me. It's stupid, you said, sycophantic and weak. Or am I making this up? Am I imagining that you said this?
Of course I'm being sarcastic. Can't you tell? I hate to tell you, but I do have a sense of humour.
Don't sulk. I sulk enough these days for the both of us. You'd be surprised to see me now, at how people avoid speaking to me. Professor Sprout can hardly stand to even look at me anymore. Sometimes when I come back to my dorm my friends pretend to be asleep so they won't have to talk to me. I don't blame them, really I don't. I can't imagine I'm much fun anymore.
I'm not making excuses for them. No one likes to be around someone who does nothing but mope and forget important things. Birthdays, for one. How to play Quidditch properly, for another. It'd horrify you to see the way I fly nowadays.
It's strange to look down into the stands and not see your face.
Hufflepuff is doing poorly without you. Their new Seeker - Lampton Shinglesworth, that's his name - is nothing compared to you. I do feel badly for him. No one says anything, but I'd imagine that he'd quit in a heartbeat if he had the choice. He won't, though, he wouldn't insult your house like that.
You would've liked him. But then again, you liked most of the people you met. You were a kind person, everyone says that, so I suppose that means you were kind to me as well. I think you were kind to me. But it's easier for me to pretend that you weren't. You understand, don't you? You can't blame me for that.
I'm not trying to be rude.
Really, I'm not. If I wanted to be rude, I'd make a not-so-subtle hint about how horrible you used to be at Potions. Or I'd mention how everyone used to call you Golden Boy just to make you feel bad about being so goddamn perfect.
You think I'm brutal, do you?
I don't mean to be, but maybe I am. Always the rapacious Ravenclaw.
Do you know what that means? Rapacious?
It means I'll eat myself alive, that's what, hunting for some damn golden apple that doesn't even exist out of textbooks and History of Magic class.
You don't know what I'm talking about?
Funny that you don't. You used to be awfully good at knowing what people really mean when they speak; when you looked at me it was like you could see every horrible thing I've ever done and you won't believe how much that used to turn me off, because people don't like knowing their mistakes, Cedric, they don't. Why can't you understand that? You were a sort of a twisted mirror that showed people how ugly they really are inside. But mirrors are blank, Cedric; they can only reflect light from other sources. By their very own nature, they distort. Muggles understand that concept very well, don't they, and wouldn't you know, they even make money off of it; they have things they call 'Fun Houses' filled with mirrors that deform and create images that don't exist. They're used to scare people. Loads of fun that must be.
I know you don't understand me but god, how could you have been so blind to your own failings? Did you have any failings at all, golden boy?
Maybe you're right, maybe I am heartless. Maybe it's terrible of me to want to move on, to-heaven forbid-live a life without you. I'm sorry, but I won't spend the rest of my life grieving for something I never had. I'm done with it, Cedric. Anger is a much more manageable emotion.
Isn't that sad? That I've reduced you to nothing more than a mildly annoying memory?
Do I shock you?
Good.
Even you would be surprised at how much I hate you sometimes. How much I hate feeling so damn guilty all the time. You can't understand what guilt feels like, can you? But I do, Cedric. It's a foul blister that festers inside of me, a splinter I can't pick out.
I'll tell you what guilt is.
Guilt is waking up to find that you've almost strangled yourself with your own sheets and you can't bring yourself to care. Guilt is seeing your dead boyfriend's mother in Diagon Alley, and guilt is what you feel when you can't bear to even say hello because you're afraid of seeing your reflection in her eyes. My dear golden boy, guilt is something you'll never have the luxury of experiencing.
I'm not being melodramatic. I knew you wouldn't be able to understand. Do you see why I hate this?
But we did have good times though, you and me, I won't deny that.
I think about you everyday.
I don't want to. It's a horrible thing to be constantly thinking of the dead, because it's useless. It won't get you anywhere, and all productivity stops once the mind turns to remorse and what-ifs and should-haves. But what can I do, short of Obliviating myself?
Yes, I do want to forget. Why wouldn't I? No one likes to remember things that make them unhappy.
It's not the memories that make me unhappy, of course it's not. It's remembering them that's painful.
Doesn't it ever affect you?
Don't lie to me. You are-you were-so cowardly in some aspects.
I don't mean that in an insulting way. Really, I don't. Bravery isn't a good quality. It makes you rash and reckless and impulsive and those are things that get you killed and your name in the back of the newspaper. And yet, darling Hufflepuff that you were, you used to remind me so much of a Gryffindor.
But you've always been one for stepping over house boundaries, you couldn’t even take a Hufflepuff to the Yule Ball. Sometimes I wonder how you ever got up the courage to ask me out-me, a rival Seeker and a swotty little Ravenclaw to boot, someone you ought to dislike on principle. I should've disliked you too. I wish I did - I wish that I do.
I always knew that you had your eye on me, you know. It was Hufflepuff's worst kept secret and I used to have these silly little fantasies of weddings and babies that had your eyes. I never did think anything would come of it. Oh, you knew I wouldn't have turned you down, don't even try to be modest. You've always been good-looking and you knew I'd say yes, but you were worried about your friends, weren't you? You didn't want them to think that you were perving on an ickle fourth year.
I don't blame you. I feel the same way about Harry-yes, Harry Potter, do I know another Harry?-because he's younger than me and he seems it, too. It hurts to look at him and think that he's carrying the world on his shoulders.
Of course I feel sorry for him.
It's not empathy, idiot, it's sympathy.
I've kissed him, you know - oh wait, you don't - and I won't apologize for it, I'm not sorry that I did it. Really, I'm not, don't even try to make me feel bad.
Why? What do you mean why? Do I need a reason?
I don't know why I'm so irritable. I don't know why I kissed him. I don't much of anything these days. I liked Harry, I still do. I suppose I wanted to see if he was real boy, to touch him and just - he made me feel better about myself, Cedric. We were under mistletoe and - don't be silly, I didn't put it there, I'm not quite the conniving little witch you like to think I am.
His glasses leave little red marks on his nose, did you know that? No, of course you wouldn't, you’re dead.
Can't you tell I'm being spiteful?
I'm glad to know that it's working. Are you annoyed yet? Wouldn't you like to slap me? I'm not insensitive, you know, I do sympathise with your plight. No one deserves to die, Cedric, especially not a death that could have been prevented so easily. I wouldn't blame you for thinking that it's my fault - indirectly my fault, of course, I won't be so selfish as to claim all the blame as my own.
I'm not trying to be funny. I'm not quite in the mood for making jokes. You wouldn't have laughed, anyway. You always did have a shoddy sense of humour.
Well, you did. Admit it. It was always useless trying to tell you a funny story because you wouldn't get it. But you did laugh a lot, you had such a wonderful laugh. Strange that I should have forgotten that. I've…forgotten a lot of things.
I think about you a lot, I suppose you know that.
You never would have entered the Tournament if it hadn't been for me.
I meant well. I wanted you to shine but believe me, no one was more surprised than I was when the Goblet spat out your name. I wondered - I still wonder - what astounding qualities you had that could have possibly made it choose you. Loyalty? Honesty? You were smart, of course you were, but were you smart enough?
I don't know. Maybe it was because they needed someone to die. Publicity, you understand.
That was a horrible thing to say, I apologize.
What?
No, it didn't work out between Harry and me. We had a fight. Over you. Are you happy? You ought to be, it's quite a talent to ruin someone's life while in the grave.
Call me names, I don't care. You've hurt me enough already.
Yes, you hurt me, of course you did. You died, Cedric.
Do you really think me so inhuman?
How ironic that you do; some days I feel too human - it's such a relief to know that I'm not.
I've tried to find ways of getting around it. Being human, I mean. I spent the summer holiday reading books on how to turn back time. How to bring back the dead, to erase the past and craft a future for someone who doesn't have one. None of it worked, Cedric. I'm still alone.
None of this was supposed to happen. I had plans for us, I wanted us to make it.
I think I could've learned to love you. It wouldn't have been hard, you were an easy enough person to love.
Don't be silly. Of course I don't hate you. I try to, god knows I do, but I can't.
I miss you.
I know you don't believe me but I do.
I think we were friends once. I can't remember anymore.
I'm not trying to be hurtful, don't say that. I never wanted to hurt you.
You hurt me, too. I don't think I can ever forgive you for that.
I wonder what they did with the Cup. I hope they kept it so they can remember what they let happen, the bastards.
No, Harry didn't keep it. I don't think he would've wanted it, a big shiny silver reminder of the biggest mistake he ever made, when everyone knew he didn't deserve to be in the Tournament in the first place. You should've won; everyone thought you would. You deserved it, I'm not going to deny it, and you did want it. I wanted it, too. I wanted to be proud of you.
Please don't hate me. I don't want you to hate me. I don't know what I want anymore.
No, I'm not crying. Why should I cry, Cedric? What is there to cry over? I can't mourn for something I never had.
I...I don't want people to forget about you.
You're sorry? Sorry for what? Sorry for dying? Don't you ever say that. You fought for your life, don't be sorry.
I want to know that you fought for your life. You did, didn't you?
Tell me yes. Please say yes.
Are you there?
Oh, god, I think I'm going mad.
Where are you?
Don't leave me. I couldn't bear for you to leave me.
I'm not crying. Stop saying that. How self-congratulatory, to assume that you still inspire emotion in me.
Of course I'm angry. You can't blame me for being angry, for knowing that none of this should have happened. It defies the laws of reason.
If only you had touched the Cup first - if only Harry hadn’t been entered into the Tournament -
Or did you want to win at all? Did you try to lose? Was this all some sort of elaborate joke, a way to get back at your father? It's not very funny, Cedric. I don't hear anyone laughing.
I'm not drunk.
This entire situation is just hilarious.
Really, Cedric, you can’t even see the humour in your own death?
Let me enlighten you.
Luck was on your side the entire time. You caught the Snitch first, you were chosen by the Goblet first, you asked me to the Ball first, you rescued me from the Great Lake first, you reached the Cup first - that's five times you beat Harry, Cedric, five times.
And yet in the end, you still lost.
Rating: PG-13
Pairings: Cho/Cedric, Cho/Harry; mostly gen
Notes: I don't know what the title's supposed to mean
Summary: How do you let go of someone you never had?
Life is eternal and love is immortal;
And death is only a horizon,
And a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight
-Rossiter W. Raymond
Roger wants to date me, Cedric, can you imagine that? Date me. Oh, it makes me want to laugh, it does. I hate to tell him that I'm sick of dating, that I want a relationship. There is a difference, however subtle. The boy won't let up even though I think I've been turning him down ever since fourth year.
I suppose I ought to be flattered, everyone says I should, but don't you think that's silly? To be grateful that someone wants you?
Well, it seems silly to me. You always did used to tell me that I shouldn't judge my worth on how others see me. It's stupid, you said, sycophantic and weak. Or am I making this up? Am I imagining that you said this?
Of course I'm being sarcastic. Can't you tell? I hate to tell you, but I do have a sense of humour.
Don't sulk. I sulk enough these days for the both of us. You'd be surprised to see me now, at how people avoid speaking to me. Professor Sprout can hardly stand to even look at me anymore. Sometimes when I come back to my dorm my friends pretend to be asleep so they won't have to talk to me. I don't blame them, really I don't. I can't imagine I'm much fun anymore.
I'm not making excuses for them. No one likes to be around someone who does nothing but mope and forget important things. Birthdays, for one. How to play Quidditch properly, for another. It'd horrify you to see the way I fly nowadays.
It's strange to look down into the stands and not see your face.
Hufflepuff is doing poorly without you. Their new Seeker - Lampton Shinglesworth, that's his name - is nothing compared to you. I do feel badly for him. No one says anything, but I'd imagine that he'd quit in a heartbeat if he had the choice. He won't, though, he wouldn't insult your house like that.
You would've liked him. But then again, you liked most of the people you met. You were a kind person, everyone says that, so I suppose that means you were kind to me as well. I think you were kind to me. But it's easier for me to pretend that you weren't. You understand, don't you? You can't blame me for that.
I'm not trying to be rude.
Really, I'm not. If I wanted to be rude, I'd make a not-so-subtle hint about how horrible you used to be at Potions. Or I'd mention how everyone used to call you Golden Boy just to make you feel bad about being so goddamn perfect.
You think I'm brutal, do you?
I don't mean to be, but maybe I am. Always the rapacious Ravenclaw.
Do you know what that means? Rapacious?
It means I'll eat myself alive, that's what, hunting for some damn golden apple that doesn't even exist out of textbooks and History of Magic class.
You don't know what I'm talking about?
Funny that you don't. You used to be awfully good at knowing what people really mean when they speak; when you looked at me it was like you could see every horrible thing I've ever done and you won't believe how much that used to turn me off, because people don't like knowing their mistakes, Cedric, they don't. Why can't you understand that? You were a sort of a twisted mirror that showed people how ugly they really are inside. But mirrors are blank, Cedric; they can only reflect light from other sources. By their very own nature, they distort. Muggles understand that concept very well, don't they, and wouldn't you know, they even make money off of it; they have things they call 'Fun Houses' filled with mirrors that deform and create images that don't exist. They're used to scare people. Loads of fun that must be.
I know you don't understand me but god, how could you have been so blind to your own failings? Did you have any failings at all, golden boy?
Maybe you're right, maybe I am heartless. Maybe it's terrible of me to want to move on, to-heaven forbid-live a life without you. I'm sorry, but I won't spend the rest of my life grieving for something I never had. I'm done with it, Cedric. Anger is a much more manageable emotion.
Isn't that sad? That I've reduced you to nothing more than a mildly annoying memory?
Do I shock you?
Good.
Even you would be surprised at how much I hate you sometimes. How much I hate feeling so damn guilty all the time. You can't understand what guilt feels like, can you? But I do, Cedric. It's a foul blister that festers inside of me, a splinter I can't pick out.
I'll tell you what guilt is.
Guilt is waking up to find that you've almost strangled yourself with your own sheets and you can't bring yourself to care. Guilt is seeing your dead boyfriend's mother in Diagon Alley, and guilt is what you feel when you can't bear to even say hello because you're afraid of seeing your reflection in her eyes. My dear golden boy, guilt is something you'll never have the luxury of experiencing.
I'm not being melodramatic. I knew you wouldn't be able to understand. Do you see why I hate this?
But we did have good times though, you and me, I won't deny that.
I think about you everyday.
I don't want to. It's a horrible thing to be constantly thinking of the dead, because it's useless. It won't get you anywhere, and all productivity stops once the mind turns to remorse and what-ifs and should-haves. But what can I do, short of Obliviating myself?
Yes, I do want to forget. Why wouldn't I? No one likes to remember things that make them unhappy.
It's not the memories that make me unhappy, of course it's not. It's remembering them that's painful.
Doesn't it ever affect you?
Don't lie to me. You are-you were-so cowardly in some aspects.
I don't mean that in an insulting way. Really, I don't. Bravery isn't a good quality. It makes you rash and reckless and impulsive and those are things that get you killed and your name in the back of the newspaper. And yet, darling Hufflepuff that you were, you used to remind me so much of a Gryffindor.
But you've always been one for stepping over house boundaries, you couldn’t even take a Hufflepuff to the Yule Ball. Sometimes I wonder how you ever got up the courage to ask me out-me, a rival Seeker and a swotty little Ravenclaw to boot, someone you ought to dislike on principle. I should've disliked you too. I wish I did - I wish that I do.
I always knew that you had your eye on me, you know. It was Hufflepuff's worst kept secret and I used to have these silly little fantasies of weddings and babies that had your eyes. I never did think anything would come of it. Oh, you knew I wouldn't have turned you down, don't even try to be modest. You've always been good-looking and you knew I'd say yes, but you were worried about your friends, weren't you? You didn't want them to think that you were perving on an ickle fourth year.
I don't blame you. I feel the same way about Harry-yes, Harry Potter, do I know another Harry?-because he's younger than me and he seems it, too. It hurts to look at him and think that he's carrying the world on his shoulders.
Of course I feel sorry for him.
It's not empathy, idiot, it's sympathy.
I've kissed him, you know - oh wait, you don't - and I won't apologize for it, I'm not sorry that I did it. Really, I'm not, don't even try to make me feel bad.
Why? What do you mean why? Do I need a reason?
I don't know why I'm so irritable. I don't know why I kissed him. I don't much of anything these days. I liked Harry, I still do. I suppose I wanted to see if he was real boy, to touch him and just - he made me feel better about myself, Cedric. We were under mistletoe and - don't be silly, I didn't put it there, I'm not quite the conniving little witch you like to think I am.
His glasses leave little red marks on his nose, did you know that? No, of course you wouldn't, you’re dead.
Can't you tell I'm being spiteful?
I'm glad to know that it's working. Are you annoyed yet? Wouldn't you like to slap me? I'm not insensitive, you know, I do sympathise with your plight. No one deserves to die, Cedric, especially not a death that could have been prevented so easily. I wouldn't blame you for thinking that it's my fault - indirectly my fault, of course, I won't be so selfish as to claim all the blame as my own.
I'm not trying to be funny. I'm not quite in the mood for making jokes. You wouldn't have laughed, anyway. You always did have a shoddy sense of humour.
Well, you did. Admit it. It was always useless trying to tell you a funny story because you wouldn't get it. But you did laugh a lot, you had such a wonderful laugh. Strange that I should have forgotten that. I've…forgotten a lot of things.
I think about you a lot, I suppose you know that.
You never would have entered the Tournament if it hadn't been for me.
I meant well. I wanted you to shine but believe me, no one was more surprised than I was when the Goblet spat out your name. I wondered - I still wonder - what astounding qualities you had that could have possibly made it choose you. Loyalty? Honesty? You were smart, of course you were, but were you smart enough?
I don't know. Maybe it was because they needed someone to die. Publicity, you understand.
That was a horrible thing to say, I apologize.
What?
No, it didn't work out between Harry and me. We had a fight. Over you. Are you happy? You ought to be, it's quite a talent to ruin someone's life while in the grave.
Call me names, I don't care. You've hurt me enough already.
Yes, you hurt me, of course you did. You died, Cedric.
Do you really think me so inhuman?
How ironic that you do; some days I feel too human - it's such a relief to know that I'm not.
I've tried to find ways of getting around it. Being human, I mean. I spent the summer holiday reading books on how to turn back time. How to bring back the dead, to erase the past and craft a future for someone who doesn't have one. None of it worked, Cedric. I'm still alone.
None of this was supposed to happen. I had plans for us, I wanted us to make it.
I think I could've learned to love you. It wouldn't have been hard, you were an easy enough person to love.
Don't be silly. Of course I don't hate you. I try to, god knows I do, but I can't.
I miss you.
I know you don't believe me but I do.
I think we were friends once. I can't remember anymore.
I'm not trying to be hurtful, don't say that. I never wanted to hurt you.
You hurt me, too. I don't think I can ever forgive you for that.
I wonder what they did with the Cup. I hope they kept it so they can remember what they let happen, the bastards.
No, Harry didn't keep it. I don't think he would've wanted it, a big shiny silver reminder of the biggest mistake he ever made, when everyone knew he didn't deserve to be in the Tournament in the first place. You should've won; everyone thought you would. You deserved it, I'm not going to deny it, and you did want it. I wanted it, too. I wanted to be proud of you.
Please don't hate me. I don't want you to hate me. I don't know what I want anymore.
No, I'm not crying. Why should I cry, Cedric? What is there to cry over? I can't mourn for something I never had.
I...I don't want people to forget about you.
You're sorry? Sorry for what? Sorry for dying? Don't you ever say that. You fought for your life, don't be sorry.
I want to know that you fought for your life. You did, didn't you?
Tell me yes. Please say yes.
Are you there?
Oh, god, I think I'm going mad.
Where are you?
Don't leave me. I couldn't bear for you to leave me.
I'm not crying. Stop saying that. How self-congratulatory, to assume that you still inspire emotion in me.
Of course I'm angry. You can't blame me for being angry, for knowing that none of this should have happened. It defies the laws of reason.
If only you had touched the Cup first - if only Harry hadn’t been entered into the Tournament -
Or did you want to win at all? Did you try to lose? Was this all some sort of elaborate joke, a way to get back at your father? It's not very funny, Cedric. I don't hear anyone laughing.
I'm not drunk.
This entire situation is just hilarious.
Really, Cedric, you can’t even see the humour in your own death?
Let me enlighten you.
Luck was on your side the entire time. You caught the Snitch first, you were chosen by the Goblet first, you asked me to the Ball first, you rescued me from the Great Lake first, you reached the Cup first - that's five times you beat Harry, Cedric, five times.
And yet in the end, you still lost.