(no subject)
Title: What Comes Is Better Than What Came Before
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PGish?
Characters/Pairings: Cho, Cedric
Word Count: 425
Notes/Warnings: Character death, whee! Why yes, I'm morbid. And I guess it's sort of AU, except... not?
Cho Chang doesn’t believe in Heaven and Hell. Isn’t it awful that after you die, you’re restrained to one specific location? Shouldn’t your soul be free to travel to wherever you’d like? True, not everyone becomes a ghost after death, but you certainly don’t have to be seen in order to see the ones you loved.
She thinks of death, instead, as hello’s and goodbye’s. It’s never really one nor the other. The moment you say goodbye to this life, you will say hello to the next, whatever the “next” may be. The goodbye’s and hello’s may not even be definite. Ideally, these can be said and heard and delivered to the right people. Then again, closure is something of a luxury when you’re in the middle of a war like this. A simple “see you” quickly becomes a broken promise, never to be followed through again. A soft kiss for good luck suddenly becomes a kiss goodbye for eternity. All in the blink of an eye.
It isn’t supposed to be this way.
She carries everything with her as she steps within the walls of the battlefield. When has a place of comfort turned into a ground of combat? She looks around the Great Hall and sees hello’s and goodbye’s and laughter and tears as she dashes curses and hexes. She turns to the right and spots flashes of reds and greens. She turns to the left and recognises faces drained of colour. She glances behind her and screams ring in her ears. She returns to face her enemy and notices him instead.
Ducks from a curse here, shields from a spell there, she struggles not to blink. Everything disappears in the blink of an eye.
She wants to say his name; the syllables form “Stupefy!” She needs to tell him to stay; her wish becomes a disarming spell. Her breathing slows and shallows as enemies crowd around her. No sound can break through her lips, not a whimper, not a cry, not even an “oh!” Nothing can be seen. Nothing can be heard. Where are the pain, the flash of green, and the light at the end of the tunnel?
Is it supposed to be this way?
At last, she gasps for air. An action she deems to be unnecessary as she realises what has come for her. He has come for her. All of this makes sense.
Her wand clangs as the wood meets the floor. She has so much to ask him. He silences her and takes her hand instead. “Hello.”
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PGish?
Characters/Pairings: Cho, Cedric
Word Count: 425
Notes/Warnings: Character death, whee! Why yes, I'm morbid. And I guess it's sort of AU, except... not?
Cho Chang doesn’t believe in Heaven and Hell. Isn’t it awful that after you die, you’re restrained to one specific location? Shouldn’t your soul be free to travel to wherever you’d like? True, not everyone becomes a ghost after death, but you certainly don’t have to be seen in order to see the ones you loved.
She thinks of death, instead, as hello’s and goodbye’s. It’s never really one nor the other. The moment you say goodbye to this life, you will say hello to the next, whatever the “next” may be. The goodbye’s and hello’s may not even be definite. Ideally, these can be said and heard and delivered to the right people. Then again, closure is something of a luxury when you’re in the middle of a war like this. A simple “see you” quickly becomes a broken promise, never to be followed through again. A soft kiss for good luck suddenly becomes a kiss goodbye for eternity. All in the blink of an eye.
It isn’t supposed to be this way.
She carries everything with her as she steps within the walls of the battlefield. When has a place of comfort turned into a ground of combat? She looks around the Great Hall and sees hello’s and goodbye’s and laughter and tears as she dashes curses and hexes. She turns to the right and spots flashes of reds and greens. She turns to the left and recognises faces drained of colour. She glances behind her and screams ring in her ears. She returns to face her enemy and notices him instead.
Ducks from a curse here, shields from a spell there, she struggles not to blink. Everything disappears in the blink of an eye.
She wants to say his name; the syllables form “Stupefy!” She needs to tell him to stay; her wish becomes a disarming spell. Her breathing slows and shallows as enemies crowd around her. No sound can break through her lips, not a whimper, not a cry, not even an “oh!” Nothing can be seen. Nothing can be heard. Where are the pain, the flash of green, and the light at the end of the tunnel?
Is it supposed to be this way?
At last, she gasps for air. An action she deems to be unnecessary as she realises what has come for her. He has come for her. All of this makes sense.
Her wand clangs as the wood meets the floor. She has so much to ask him. He silences her and takes her hand instead. “Hello.”