Story & Icons
EDIT
Two Cedric/Fleur icons for you under the cut!
Title: Undecided (No, that's not the title. It means I haven't thought of one yet. XD)
Author: Serena (labellechere3x)
Characters: Cedric/Fleur
Rating: As of now, PG. As of later, PG-13.
Summary: Cedric is dead. But somehow, he is viewing his moments after death, and the reactions to the announcement of his passing. But how is it possible for him to exist, but to not exist? And how is it only one person is capable of seeing him?
Author's Notes: This fan fiction is a bit confusing as of now, but, I kind of like it. Hope you guys do, too!
A horrid gasp escaped his throat as Harry reached the port key and took his body along, as he left Lord Voldemort behind in the graveyard, and as his last moments on earth vanished.
Cedric hit the ground of a brightly lit oblivion, nothing in sight but an infinite white light. He staggered, amazed how he could stand when there appeared to be no floor beneath him.
Was this Heaven? He imagined it a tad more...heavenly. His brown eyes scanned the nothingness as he tried to calm his panting, doubled over on the ground. He didn't know where the hell he was, or where the hell he was going.
He ran a pale hand through his brown hair, taking a few desperate steps forward.
Loud, but still unsure, he called out,
"Anyone there?"
No reply came, but his voice echoed for what could have been measured as miles.
"P-please!" He stuttered, terrified at this unfamiliar place. "Can anyone help me?"
He felt a pull at his stomach as his surroundings swirled, reminding him horribly of apparation.
Another thud to the ground told him he'd landed elsewhere.
Cedric stood, his body weak from all the struggle and continuous falls. He searched around, eyes wide as he realized he was in the Great Hall.
The usual curtains that would have been decorated with the color of the winning house were now black, and everyone had a solemn look to them.
He spotted Harry sitting with Ron and Hermione, and he ran over towards them, smiling broadly.
"Guess there's another who's survived Avada Kedavra, eh?" He teased, swinging his arms back and forth to add to the shock of his presence.
But there was something quizzical of the moment--no one noticed him.
Harry, teary eyed, remained staring straight ahead as Dumbledore announced the death of Cedric Diggory.
"Wait!" He yelled. "I'm right here, I'm alive!"
The fight was useless. Cedric glanced downwards, eyes shut as it sunk in; that he wasn't really alive after all.
"What the hell is this?!" He yelled, hoping-praying-for an answer. His heart might as well have dissolved as he saw the terrible look upon Cho Chang's face, and how horrified and scarred his fellow Hufflepuff's appeared to be.
He looked over to his father, who was at the staff table, and hot tears cascaded down his cheeks as he saw the state he was in. No words were capable of describing how Cedric felt at seeing this; he turned away, shaking with sadness, fear, and above all-confusion.
Why had he gone from that nothing back to viewing reality? He shook his head with rage at the lack of understanding with all of this, and let out a yell as the images before him twisted once more.
This time landing on his feet, he appeared back into the graveyard where Lord Voldemort had taken his life.
With narrowed eyes, he locked onto Lord Voldemort, taking a few steps forward till he was standing a mere foot away from him.
"Damn it!" The Dark Lord yelled, pacing back and forth and glaring at his Death Eaters. "You're all useless creatures! Have you no intelligence to even stun the boy?" He was raving now, cursing them all to their knees.
"Right in my grasp, right in my grasp, he was! And you lot are-"
Lord Voldemort froze, his snake eyes narrowing, barely even visible through the slits. "Someone...or something, is here." He whispered in a cautious and menacing tone, turning sharply and walking right through Cedric.
"Well?" He roared at his followers, causing them to cower an inch, "Don't stand there like the dolts you are, go look!"
` They bowed, before vanishing with a wisp of silver mist. Only Wormtail remained with the Dark Lord, flexing his new hand and grinning viciously.
"M-my Lord," he stuttered, following slowly behind him as Lord Voldemort paced, "What are you to do of that Cedric boy? Surely it's been announced of his death, and that shall announce of your return--"
"Of course it shall be announced, ingenious one!” He hissed, waving a hand at Wormtail in irritation.
“I want them to know of my return!”
His glare didn’t lessen as the surroundings toppled over one another, forming together a new image.
He grimaced at the sight before him--Harry landing back at the start of the Third Task, and clinging to his own dead body.
Cedric's eyes widened as he observed the state Harry appeared to be in:
His cries were the kind you could only utter when feeling immense pain, that it sounded no louder than a whisper. He looked at the faces of the others, who were all cheering, not realizing of what was truly going on.
Cedric's eyes caught sight of Fleur Delacour, and had she been capable of seeing him, they would have locked.
Fleur stared right at him, then her eyes lowered slightly to his dead body. She let out a horrified scream and turned to the arms of her friends, sobbing into one of their shoulder's.
That's when the crowd realized he was dead.
A perilous silence fell over them, and Cedric watched as Harry was pulled away by Professor Moody, and as his father mourned for him.
Fleur had turned around, her shining blue eyes teary, and it seemed as if they connected once more.
If only if it were possible, were the only thoughts going through Cedric's head.
If only this hadn't happened.
The now somewhat annoying and familiar switch between place and time took hold, landing him in a four poster room, decorated with the laid out trunks and uniforms of a few of the students from BeauxBatons.
None of them were in the room however, but there was a sound of hurried footsteps and the door slamming open, then closed, and the frustrating cries of someone begging for an explanation.
"Allez!" Fleur spoke, locking the door on her friend. "Laissez-moi!"
She turned, collapsing onto her bed, shoulders heaving with sobs.
Cedric smiled weakly, both saddened and joyful she was missing him; they had become rather good friends throughout the tournament.
He watched, eyes glazed over as her bright blue eyes stared into nothing, wishing for this night to cease. It was almost as if he could read her mind, know what she was thinking, and feel her pain.
Her blonde hair fell into her face as she wiped at her eyes.
"Fleur.." He whispered, missing her already.
Fleur froze and jumped from her bed immediately, pulling out her wand.
"Who iz 'zhere?" She said, her hand shaking. "'Zell me who you 'ar!"
Cedric, who had been hidden in the shadows, took a startled step forward into the light.
Which was greeted by a petrifying scream from Fleur.
"Fleur?" He said, disbelievingly. "You can see me?"
"You 'ar dead!" She yelled, over and over. "Il ne peut pas être!"
She had stuffed her face into the pillow, her shrill cries most likely awakening the entire castle.
"Fleur, Fleur!" He said desperately, trying to calm her.
"Non!" She shouted, pointing her wand at him. "Dos, démon!"
"Fleur, I don't understand a word you're saying!" He yelled, pulling at his hair in frustration.
"'Ow iz eet possible?" She whispered, her wand shaking violently.
"I-I'm not exactly sure myself..." He said, shaking his head. "No one else has been able to see, except for you, not even Harry!"
"'Arry!" She said, jumping up suddenly. "I 'ave to leet 'im know 'az soon 'az possible zat you 'ar alive!"
Cedric shook his head once more. "But he wasn't able to see me earlier!"
"Oui!" She shouted, clasping her hands together. "I 'ad seen your body, once 'Arry 'ad come back," she said, looking at him intently, "And zhen I looked up and 'ad seen you, but....you weeren't dead!" Her mouth opened, forming a little 'o'.
"'Ow iz eet possible?" She said again, lightly caressing his shoulder with her fingers, to see if it truly was him standing before her.
"Fleur, I know as much as you do. I died, I'm dead, then I suddenly come back to life, but you're the only one who can see me." He said bitterly, clearly not enjoying all her questions.
She raised an eyebrow. "Non need to be 'zo rude about eet," she said, crossing her arms. "'Joost be'cause I 'orried o'er your weel-beeing--"
"Oh, I get it," he snapped, collapsing onto an armchair. "I'm just as confused as you are, all right?"
She looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully, eyes gleaming. "Per'aps I should ask 'Arry if 'e can zee you, az weel?"
"No......forget about it."
"But why? I want to know why eet iz only I can see you, or eef I am some sort of mees-fit!"
Cedric rolled his eyes. "Can't imagine that."
Her nostrils flared. "Why 'ar you beeing so seelfish?" She asked shrilly, crossing her arms. "Does dyeeing make mon freends such 'orrible people?"
Cedric stood, falling onto the bed opposite her, turning in the opposite direction.
"Don't let anyone sleep on me."
"No one sleep's zhere," She answered stuffily, uncrossing her arms.
"Well, great."
"You used to be mooch more freendly before you up-weent and died," she muttered, crawling into her own bed.
Cedric didn't answer her, but he knew she was right. Why was he being so mean to her, of all people? Wasn't she the one to first notice, other than Harry, that he was dead? Yes, it was mere observation, but that meant something to him. And why was it only Fleur could see him?
He tried to have his thoughts put him to sleep, but apparently, in his state of form, it was impossible for him to drift into a slumber.
So he resided to staying awake all night, putting other things to mind.
Things he would have never dreamed of thinking over.
Two Cedric/Fleur icons for you under the cut!
Title: Undecided (No, that's not the title. It means I haven't thought of one yet. XD)
Author: Serena (labellechere3x)
Characters: Cedric/Fleur
Rating: As of now, PG. As of later, PG-13.
Summary: Cedric is dead. But somehow, he is viewing his moments after death, and the reactions to the announcement of his passing. But how is it possible for him to exist, but to not exist? And how is it only one person is capable of seeing him?
Author's Notes: This fan fiction is a bit confusing as of now, but, I kind of like it. Hope you guys do, too!
A horrid gasp escaped his throat as Harry reached the port key and took his body along, as he left Lord Voldemort behind in the graveyard, and as his last moments on earth vanished.
Cedric hit the ground of a brightly lit oblivion, nothing in sight but an infinite white light. He staggered, amazed how he could stand when there appeared to be no floor beneath him.
Was this Heaven? He imagined it a tad more...heavenly. His brown eyes scanned the nothingness as he tried to calm his panting, doubled over on the ground. He didn't know where the hell he was, or where the hell he was going.
He ran a pale hand through his brown hair, taking a few desperate steps forward.
Loud, but still unsure, he called out,
"Anyone there?"
No reply came, but his voice echoed for what could have been measured as miles.
"P-please!" He stuttered, terrified at this unfamiliar place. "Can anyone help me?"
He felt a pull at his stomach as his surroundings swirled, reminding him horribly of apparation.
Another thud to the ground told him he'd landed elsewhere.
Cedric stood, his body weak from all the struggle and continuous falls. He searched around, eyes wide as he realized he was in the Great Hall.
The usual curtains that would have been decorated with the color of the winning house were now black, and everyone had a solemn look to them.
He spotted Harry sitting with Ron and Hermione, and he ran over towards them, smiling broadly.
"Guess there's another who's survived Avada Kedavra, eh?" He teased, swinging his arms back and forth to add to the shock of his presence.
But there was something quizzical of the moment--no one noticed him.
Harry, teary eyed, remained staring straight ahead as Dumbledore announced the death of Cedric Diggory.
"Wait!" He yelled. "I'm right here, I'm alive!"
The fight was useless. Cedric glanced downwards, eyes shut as it sunk in; that he wasn't really alive after all.
"What the hell is this?!" He yelled, hoping-praying-for an answer. His heart might as well have dissolved as he saw the terrible look upon Cho Chang's face, and how horrified and scarred his fellow Hufflepuff's appeared to be.
He looked over to his father, who was at the staff table, and hot tears cascaded down his cheeks as he saw the state he was in. No words were capable of describing how Cedric felt at seeing this; he turned away, shaking with sadness, fear, and above all-confusion.
Why had he gone from that nothing back to viewing reality? He shook his head with rage at the lack of understanding with all of this, and let out a yell as the images before him twisted once more.
This time landing on his feet, he appeared back into the graveyard where Lord Voldemort had taken his life.
With narrowed eyes, he locked onto Lord Voldemort, taking a few steps forward till he was standing a mere foot away from him.
"Damn it!" The Dark Lord yelled, pacing back and forth and glaring at his Death Eaters. "You're all useless creatures! Have you no intelligence to even stun the boy?" He was raving now, cursing them all to their knees.
"Right in my grasp, right in my grasp, he was! And you lot are-"
Lord Voldemort froze, his snake eyes narrowing, barely even visible through the slits. "Someone...or something, is here." He whispered in a cautious and menacing tone, turning sharply and walking right through Cedric.
"Well?" He roared at his followers, causing them to cower an inch, "Don't stand there like the dolts you are, go look!"
` They bowed, before vanishing with a wisp of silver mist. Only Wormtail remained with the Dark Lord, flexing his new hand and grinning viciously.
"M-my Lord," he stuttered, following slowly behind him as Lord Voldemort paced, "What are you to do of that Cedric boy? Surely it's been announced of his death, and that shall announce of your return--"
"Of course it shall be announced, ingenious one!” He hissed, waving a hand at Wormtail in irritation.
“I want them to know of my return!”
His glare didn’t lessen as the surroundings toppled over one another, forming together a new image.
He grimaced at the sight before him--Harry landing back at the start of the Third Task, and clinging to his own dead body.
Cedric's eyes widened as he observed the state Harry appeared to be in:
His cries were the kind you could only utter when feeling immense pain, that it sounded no louder than a whisper. He looked at the faces of the others, who were all cheering, not realizing of what was truly going on.
Cedric's eyes caught sight of Fleur Delacour, and had she been capable of seeing him, they would have locked.
Fleur stared right at him, then her eyes lowered slightly to his dead body. She let out a horrified scream and turned to the arms of her friends, sobbing into one of their shoulder's.
That's when the crowd realized he was dead.
A perilous silence fell over them, and Cedric watched as Harry was pulled away by Professor Moody, and as his father mourned for him.
Fleur had turned around, her shining blue eyes teary, and it seemed as if they connected once more.
If only if it were possible, were the only thoughts going through Cedric's head.
If only this hadn't happened.
The now somewhat annoying and familiar switch between place and time took hold, landing him in a four poster room, decorated with the laid out trunks and uniforms of a few of the students from BeauxBatons.
None of them were in the room however, but there was a sound of hurried footsteps and the door slamming open, then closed, and the frustrating cries of someone begging for an explanation.
"Allez!" Fleur spoke, locking the door on her friend. "Laissez-moi!"
She turned, collapsing onto her bed, shoulders heaving with sobs.
Cedric smiled weakly, both saddened and joyful she was missing him; they had become rather good friends throughout the tournament.
He watched, eyes glazed over as her bright blue eyes stared into nothing, wishing for this night to cease. It was almost as if he could read her mind, know what she was thinking, and feel her pain.
Her blonde hair fell into her face as she wiped at her eyes.
"Fleur.." He whispered, missing her already.
Fleur froze and jumped from her bed immediately, pulling out her wand.
"Who iz 'zhere?" She said, her hand shaking. "'Zell me who you 'ar!"
Cedric, who had been hidden in the shadows, took a startled step forward into the light.
Which was greeted by a petrifying scream from Fleur.
"Fleur?" He said, disbelievingly. "You can see me?"
"You 'ar dead!" She yelled, over and over. "Il ne peut pas être!"
She had stuffed her face into the pillow, her shrill cries most likely awakening the entire castle.
"Fleur, Fleur!" He said desperately, trying to calm her.
"Non!" She shouted, pointing her wand at him. "Dos, démon!"
"Fleur, I don't understand a word you're saying!" He yelled, pulling at his hair in frustration.
"'Ow iz eet possible?" She whispered, her wand shaking violently.
"I-I'm not exactly sure myself..." He said, shaking his head. "No one else has been able to see, except for you, not even Harry!"
"'Arry!" She said, jumping up suddenly. "I 'ave to leet 'im know 'az soon 'az possible zat you 'ar alive!"
Cedric shook his head once more. "But he wasn't able to see me earlier!"
"Oui!" She shouted, clasping her hands together. "I 'ad seen your body, once 'Arry 'ad come back," she said, looking at him intently, "And zhen I looked up and 'ad seen you, but....you weeren't dead!" Her mouth opened, forming a little 'o'.
"'Ow iz eet possible?" She said again, lightly caressing his shoulder with her fingers, to see if it truly was him standing before her.
"Fleur, I know as much as you do. I died, I'm dead, then I suddenly come back to life, but you're the only one who can see me." He said bitterly, clearly not enjoying all her questions.
She raised an eyebrow. "Non need to be 'zo rude about eet," she said, crossing her arms. "'Joost be'cause I 'orried o'er your weel-beeing--"
"Oh, I get it," he snapped, collapsing onto an armchair. "I'm just as confused as you are, all right?"
She looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully, eyes gleaming. "Per'aps I should ask 'Arry if 'e can zee you, az weel?"
"No......forget about it."
"But why? I want to know why eet iz only I can see you, or eef I am some sort of mees-fit!"
Cedric rolled his eyes. "Can't imagine that."
Her nostrils flared. "Why 'ar you beeing so seelfish?" She asked shrilly, crossing her arms. "Does dyeeing make mon freends such 'orrible people?"
Cedric stood, falling onto the bed opposite her, turning in the opposite direction.
"Don't let anyone sleep on me."
"No one sleep's zhere," She answered stuffily, uncrossing her arms.
"Well, great."
"You used to be mooch more freendly before you up-weent and died," she muttered, crawling into her own bed.
Cedric didn't answer her, but he knew she was right. Why was he being so mean to her, of all people? Wasn't she the one to first notice, other than Harry, that he was dead? Yes, it was mere observation, but that meant something to him. And why was it only Fleur could see him?
He tried to have his thoughts put him to sleep, but apparently, in his state of form, it was impossible for him to drift into a slumber.
So he resided to staying awake all night, putting other things to mind.
Things he would have never dreamed of thinking over.