RP: Real
Characters: Cho Chang.
Location: In bed.
Date: 30th of March, 2000 -- Late Night
Status/Warning: Closed. Strannnge dreamings.
Summary: The very best nightmare.
Completion: Complete.
"Cho," Cedric said with some finality. "This one is going to be easy."
Just as on that day, he is partially obscured by the shadow of the stands; still, Cho can make out the blueness of his eyes. They are small, bright, merry, and... They are blue. She can feel that they are happy, but in the dream their happiness is so much that she can feel it -- as tangible as he had been, once. It is as remembered, or better. In the dream, he does not touch her face and leave, as he did that day; they stand on the path and watch each other carefully. At fifteen Cho watched him leave with some frustration: no kiss, just that touch, a briefness of fingers against the skin of her cheek. She remembers wondering what he's on about, that it will be easy. Everyone knows that the third task has to be the hardest. Then again, that is how Cedric always thought -- to Cedric it was always simple. He reckoned that if you don't know to call it difficult, you never will.
In the dream he continues to stand before her, every tendon and philosophy of him. The sky laughs in blue and pink beyond his shoulder, torn through with silver clouds. She opens her mouth to speak, but cannot. It is too familiar -- she is suddenly frightened that if she moves he will disappear, a reflection on the water.
He speaks again: "Cho, do you think so?"
And because she knows this is a dream, she shakes her head. To say otherwise would be lying! For a moment her lips quiver, tongue heavy and dry in her mouth; somewhere she is aware that once she would have longed for a kiss, because it is a dream and it is only in dreams that such a kiss blooms, can ever exist. But as it is -- Percy is present in this world, though she is fifteen in her dream, and still wearing pink eyeshadow. Percy is present though they are years before marry-me, be-my-wife. Cedric knows those words, and she knows yes!, and somehow they are together and they know.
"I can't say it's easy," falls from her mouth. "But I'm happier than I've ever been."
Cedric is nearer than he has ever been, now that he is dead. But here, wherever dreams are made, he is very much alive. He smells like soap and clean grass; here is every inch of him, beyond where any inch lived or breathed. But she is not in awe of him, even as he claps her on the back, and his hands are the sparkle and ache of a sleeping limb.
"You're going to have the happiestlife you could have had, Cho. You shouldn't
A bird cackles in the dark. Her vision is everywhere at once: every face, the footsteps of the students, the potential of the hum, all voices together. They'll cheer and cry! It's the most unison Hogwarts has ever had, and that is the moment Cedric dies, the moment he stops breathing. In any dream he always dies beautifully. It's fitting to think that he is the innocent they always mention, in quotes about war: it's the innocent, they're first, they always go first.
"I miss you," Cho says. "I wish you were here." And her dream body shivers slightly when he smiles, first halting, and then --
"I'm around. I don't mind."
Cho has to ask: "What does it feel like to die? Is there a light? Is it really a tunnel?"
He laughs.
"...Do you know everything now, Cedric?"
"I know enough. I dOn't mind."
Just as on that day, she hears a shout -- Before she sees it, she hears a shout. Above the collective scream and gasp, there is one, one hanging word. This was the word that haunted her for months. "No!" Oh no, no, no
No
But Cedric stands before her, and his nails are dirty, and she remembers very clearly that this was the day they split a popsicle on the stairs at Ravenclaw tower. She has never remembered that before.
(It was lime.)
"Cedric," says Cho suddenly. "I'm getting married."
"Yeah, yoU ar--e ... You'll be pretty, he's got good taste."
"Will I be with Percy forever? If you do know everything now, you should tell me."
A sudden vision of tropical birds. She is nearer than dreaming now; it grows different. Cedric is at her side -- she knows this distinctly, his essence, the scent. She remembers, oh, and now the tears come. For months that cologne would twist her heart in shreds.
shouldn't worry. Everyone watches over You."
He holds her hand for a moment: the same hand, with squarish fingertips. He touches the ring, which somehow appears on her finger whole, round, shining. So very lovely, and she grows giddy, gazing up at him. "...What do you think?" she asks, nodding to the darkness of the hematite.
"I think you're fuNny, Cho
And they look at each other in the stillness of the dream, a dream world -- fragments of flat earth drift in and out, and quidditch pitches, and a hill she ran down as a child, rainbow chalices. Her father is smiling as well. A man she knows but cannot recognise is there, as well, and two women, and
Cedric feels steady, pure -- Real! --
It's the way he said her name. "Cho."
Suddenly she embraces him frantically. A chance, and it pulls at her to do it, he is still a dead boy, a champion, golden Cedric. Perhaps in the waking world she twitches violently at the sensation: nearly true, but nearly not, and he's only a dream after all. "I miss you. I miss you."
"I Miss you, too--Did you know that it's okay?"
The sound of a crowd. They cheer, and a snitch slips between her fingers, and though she is flying she has never flown before.
A blink, and --
He is clearer than before, somehow, though the colors were there -- so there, before. The colors were so vibrant, but now she has the sense that he is there instead. Wherever she is, he is very much present. In every way!
Cho's jaw goes loose.
"I don't mind being dead. It didn't hurt. And it's been years anyway. I guess it's sort of funny: I didn't really know until sometime later."
"How?"
"It's strange that way, when you die. You're not going to die, you never were; but when you do, we'll have a picnic. You'll see."
"Cedric--"
"Your baby is beautiful."
And her dream body unfolds, gleaming. She could be fifteen forever at this rate, but she is also twenty. Here and again her hands ache, but he's taken one, and it throbs like a sparking wand, a lovely heartbeat.
"When you wake, you might not remember me, you know."
"I know."
"I can tell you that dying is like waking. The difference is you don't ever stop. For some people it's beautiful, and for others it's not. Do you understand?"
"What am I going to do, Cedric?" Cho mouths. They are still stopped in the middle of the path. Suddenly she understands that this is where they will be, forever. It isn't her dream. This is where Cedric knows her best -- the last time, the last words, and it has been her always-wish to stand here longer. This is the last time she sees his face before he is dead, the last blueness of his eyes, and they are here because that is what she wishes would have continued. This is the moment she wanted to finish -- so he is finishing it.
"You'll be fine, of course. I love you. You only get prettier."
"Cedric," says Cho quietly; and they smile at eachother, because it's not the first time he has said it, and there has been no in-between, but now it is entirely different. When you are dead, the word is --
"It's good. Percy is good, and he'll stay good."
Not a word. Stay
"If you remember anything," he fades -- a golden arm, and she mourned
Over and under.
"If you remember, try to
*
Cho woke with a start. For a moment her eyes were wider than they'd ever been, in this bedroom: every shadow danced as if burning, and her hands felt no pain.
"Oh..."
Percy was next to her, as expected; she wanted to quiet her breathing for his sake, but somehow it was difficult. She could not quite catch up with herself: it was as if she'd run for miles, flown the entire afternoon.
After a minute or so, however, it found her. Deep breath, deep breath... And she was calm, of course. It wasn't fear. It was something else entirely.
Cho settled back into the sheets, and then into Percy. His arm was heavy to lift -- sleep held it fast -- but she slipped under, suddenly smiling, tender with love.
Location: In bed.
Date: 30th of March, 2000 -- Late Night
Status/Warning: Closed. Strannnge dreamings.
Summary: The very best nightmare.
Completion: Complete.
"Cho," Cedric said with some finality. "This one is going to be easy."
Just as on that day, he is partially obscured by the shadow of the stands; still, Cho can make out the blueness of his eyes. They are small, bright, merry, and... They are blue. She can feel that they are happy, but in the dream their happiness is so much that she can feel it -- as tangible as he had been, once. It is as remembered, or better. In the dream, he does not touch her face and leave, as he did that day; they stand on the path and watch each other carefully. At fifteen Cho watched him leave with some frustration: no kiss, just that touch, a briefness of fingers against the skin of her cheek. She remembers wondering what he's on about, that it will be easy. Everyone knows that the third task has to be the hardest. Then again, that is how Cedric always thought -- to Cedric it was always simple. He reckoned that if you don't know to call it difficult, you never will.
In the dream he continues to stand before her, every tendon and philosophy of him. The sky laughs in blue and pink beyond his shoulder, torn through with silver clouds. She opens her mouth to speak, but cannot. It is too familiar -- she is suddenly frightened that if she moves he will disappear, a reflection on the water.
He speaks again: "Cho, do you think so?"
And because she knows this is a dream, she shakes her head. To say otherwise would be lying! For a moment her lips quiver, tongue heavy and dry in her mouth; somewhere she is aware that once she would have longed for a kiss, because it is a dream and it is only in dreams that such a kiss blooms, can ever exist. But as it is -- Percy is present in this world, though she is fifteen in her dream, and still wearing pink eyeshadow. Percy is present though they are years before marry-me, be-my-wife. Cedric knows those words, and she knows yes!, and somehow they are together and they know.
"I can't say it's easy," falls from her mouth. "But I'm happier than I've ever been."
Cedric is nearer than he has ever been, now that he is dead. But here, wherever dreams are made, he is very much alive. He smells like soap and clean grass; here is every inch of him, beyond where any inch lived or breathed. But she is not in awe of him, even as he claps her on the back, and his hands are the sparkle and ache of a sleeping limb.
"You're going to have the happiestlife you could have had, Cho. You shouldn't
A bird cackles in the dark. Her vision is everywhere at once: every face, the footsteps of the students, the potential of the hum, all voices together. They'll cheer and cry! It's the most unison Hogwarts has ever had, and that is the moment Cedric dies, the moment he stops breathing. In any dream he always dies beautifully. It's fitting to think that he is the innocent they always mention, in quotes about war: it's the innocent, they're first, they always go first.
"I miss you," Cho says. "I wish you were here." And her dream body shivers slightly when he smiles, first halting, and then --
"I'm around. I don't mind."
Cho has to ask: "What does it feel like to die? Is there a light? Is it really a tunnel?"
He laughs.
"...Do you know everything now, Cedric?"
"I know enough. I dOn't mind."
Just as on that day, she hears a shout -- Before she sees it, she hears a shout. Above the collective scream and gasp, there is one, one hanging word. This was the word that haunted her for months. "No!" Oh no, no, no
No
But Cedric stands before her, and his nails are dirty, and she remembers very clearly that this was the day they split a popsicle on the stairs at Ravenclaw tower. She has never remembered that before.
(It was lime.)
"Cedric," says Cho suddenly. "I'm getting married."
"Yeah, yoU ar--e ... You'll be pretty, he's got good taste."
"Will I be with Percy forever? If you do know everything now, you should tell me."
A sudden vision of tropical birds. She is nearer than dreaming now; it grows different. Cedric is at her side -- she knows this distinctly, his essence, the scent. She remembers, oh, and now the tears come. For months that cologne would twist her heart in shreds.
shouldn't worry. Everyone watches over You."
He holds her hand for a moment: the same hand, with squarish fingertips. He touches the ring, which somehow appears on her finger whole, round, shining. So very lovely, and she grows giddy, gazing up at him. "...What do you think?" she asks, nodding to the darkness of the hematite.
"I think you're fuNny, Cho
And they look at each other in the stillness of the dream, a dream world -- fragments of flat earth drift in and out, and quidditch pitches, and a hill she ran down as a child, rainbow chalices. Her father is smiling as well. A man she knows but cannot recognise is there, as well, and two women, and
Cedric feels steady, pure -- Real! --
It's the way he said her name. "Cho."
Suddenly she embraces him frantically. A chance, and it pulls at her to do it, he is still a dead boy, a champion, golden Cedric. Perhaps in the waking world she twitches violently at the sensation: nearly true, but nearly not, and he's only a dream after all. "I miss you. I miss you."
"I Miss you, too--Did you know that it's okay?"
The sound of a crowd. They cheer, and a snitch slips between her fingers, and though she is flying she has never flown before.
A blink, and --
He is clearer than before, somehow, though the colors were there -- so there, before. The colors were so vibrant, but now she has the sense that he is there instead. Wherever she is, he is very much present. In every way!
Cho's jaw goes loose.
"I don't mind being dead. It didn't hurt. And it's been years anyway. I guess it's sort of funny: I didn't really know until sometime later."
"How?"
"It's strange that way, when you die. You're not going to die, you never were; but when you do, we'll have a picnic. You'll see."
"Cedric--"
"Your baby is beautiful."
And her dream body unfolds, gleaming. She could be fifteen forever at this rate, but she is also twenty. Here and again her hands ache, but he's taken one, and it throbs like a sparking wand, a lovely heartbeat.
"When you wake, you might not remember me, you know."
"I know."
"I can tell you that dying is like waking. The difference is you don't ever stop. For some people it's beautiful, and for others it's not. Do you understand?"
"What am I going to do, Cedric?" Cho mouths. They are still stopped in the middle of the path. Suddenly she understands that this is where they will be, forever. It isn't her dream. This is where Cedric knows her best -- the last time, the last words, and it has been her always-wish to stand here longer. This is the last time she sees his face before he is dead, the last blueness of his eyes, and they are here because that is what she wishes would have continued. This is the moment she wanted to finish -- so he is finishing it.
"You'll be fine, of course. I love you. You only get prettier."
"Cedric," says Cho quietly; and they smile at eachother, because it's not the first time he has said it, and there has been no in-between, but now it is entirely different. When you are dead, the word is --
"It's good. Percy is good, and he'll stay good."
Not a word. Stay
"If you remember anything," he fades -- a golden arm, and she mourned
Over and under.
"If you remember, try to
*
Cho woke with a start. For a moment her eyes were wider than they'd ever been, in this bedroom: every shadow danced as if burning, and her hands felt no pain.
"Oh..."
Percy was next to her, as expected; she wanted to quiet her breathing for his sake, but somehow it was difficult. She could not quite catch up with herself: it was as if she'd run for miles, flown the entire afternoon.
After a minute or so, however, it found her. Deep breath, deep breath... And she was calm, of course. It wasn't fear. It was something else entirely.
Cho settled back into the sheets, and then into Percy. His arm was heavy to lift -- sleep held it fast -- but she slipped under, suddenly smiling, tender with love.