Disclaimer- I own nothing, except the dumplings and the red wine vinaigrette.
A/N-Hi there. I finally finished this little piece of fuzz, and I think it's one of the longest one-shots that I've ever written. I'm pretty proud of it, so I'd like some constructive critisism. Oh, and the ending is supposed to be that way. I'd like for you to guess what would happen next. So... Have fun reading, enjoy the story. Also, it's a bit wangsty and "Sob sob, poor me, I suck."
Cho sighed as she saw the
Post-It note on the refrigerator door. It was a pink heart, one of
her mother's.
She plucked it off of the stainless steel door, crumpling it quickly and throwing towards the trash can. She missed, hitting the counter. Cho scrunched up her face, and decided to clean it later.
She didn't bother reading the note, because it always said the same thing. "Cho, dear, I've a meeting tonight, so I won't be home till late, and Dad will be out golfing with his friends. Call his mobile if you need anything, and there's food in the fridge. Love, Mom."
It happened at least twice a week, if not more. Her mother would be at some business meeting for her company, and her father would be working at the firm all day, going golfing with his friends after work.
When Cho was younger, maybe thirteen years old, her mother would arrange for her to go over one of her friend's house for the day. Cho had thought that it was a good arrangement, being able to get away from the house and her family, and being able to spend time with someone else's family instead.
Now, her mother thought she was too old to need to be babysat. There were no regrets from Cho's side, as she didn't really care for her friends anymore. Besides, she needed to find a job anyway.
The answering machine was flashing, so she pressed a button and made her way back to the fridge, searching its contents for a suitable breakfast.
'Lunch, more like,' she thought, looking at the clock. It was well past eight o'clock, her normal waking time.
"Hi dear, it's your mother. I'm so sorry, but I won't be able to make it home in time for dinner, so could you be a dear and make a meal for yourself and your father? If you have any plans, just go ahead and give him a ring to let him know if he'll be eating alone. Oh, and there are some fried dumplings left over from last night in the fridge. Try to finish them up, will you? Have a nice day and don't miss me too much. Bye!" the answering machine spat out. Cho, expecting this already, hit another button on the phone, calling her father.
She put him on speakerphone while she looked for the dumplings. Ring, ring, ring. At last, she discovered a plastic covered dish with her to be breakfast in it.
"Hi Cho. What's up?" the phone asked. Her father actually picked up this time. She hadn't talked to him in what seemed like weeks.
"Hi Dad. Mom's not going to make it to dinner again, so I'm going out with some friends. Can you manage dinner yourself, or do you want me to make something and stick it in the fridge for you?" Cho replied.
"Nah, it's ok. I can get it on my own, so have fun going out, ok? Did you find breakfast yet?" he told her.
"Yup, don't worry. Have a good day at work, and good luck with golfing," she said, and hung up on him before he could say anything. Putting a small portion of the dumplings on a smaller plate, she put it into the microwave for sixty seconds, and looked for the red wine vinaigrette that she ate them with.
She sighed, going through the pantry. It was always the same. Her family was always so formal with each other, quick and meaningless conversations over the phone. There was never a long dinner, because someone always had to run off to do this, or that. There was never enough time for the three of them.
Two beeps revealed that the dumplings had been "nuked", as some of her Muggle friends had said years ago. She left them there, still looking for the dressing. Finally, she gave up, and took out her wand.
"Accio dressing!" she called out, and the bottle flew into her hands.
She wasn't supposed to do magic in the house, because her father said it made him feel so much more inferior. He was a muggle, her mother was a witch, and she was an adult. Or so she thought.
What was she doing? Seventeen and graduated from Hogwarts, top of the class, and still living in her parent's house. She still didn't have a job, the fact constantly in her mind because of her mother leaving the classified section of the paper every morning. She couldn't claim to be an adult.
She didn't even have any good friends. There were acquaintances and ex-boyfriends aplenty, but no one that she could confide in, or just hang out with without having to carefully apply her make-up and spending hours wondering what to wear.
Cho slowly chewed her food. She was just a pretty face, wasn't she? She had a good smile, a nicely shaped nose, and evenly spaced eyes. Some people called her beautiful, but she didn't really want that. She wanted people to know that she was from Ravenclaw. She wanted them to know that she was more than just a pretty face, more than a good shag. She was a person, with a good brain, with thoughts that didn't include clothing and make-up.
Why couldn't she be more like Hermione Granger? She was a smart girl, smarter than herself, even with the age difference. That girl was a smart one, and people knew that. She didn't see boys hitting on that girl at the most inopportune moment, right when she was close to solving a complex Arithmancy problem. She didn't see guys staring at her breasts during dinner, and she never heard any boys talking about what a great shag she was.
Not that she ever even shagged a guy. People like to spread rumors, and Cho often took the brunt of the damage that they knowingly caused. There were so many rumors when she was still at school... The worst were about Harry. He was a nice guy, and he really seemed to like her, so she went out with him. But then, she felt horribly guilt because it was as if she was cheating on Cedric, and besides, Harry was a year younger than her.
She chewed slowly, finishing the remains of last night's dinner. Going to the sink, she saw her reflection in the stainless steel refrigerator door. A pretty face, indeed.
Washing the dishes from her parents' breakfast, she let herself go. Soap, rinse. The suds covered her hands, but she didn't mind. Soap, rinse. She reached up to hang a pot, and the soapy water dripped down her arms.
Cho walked away, and got ready to go out. Not that she really ever went out with her friends. Typically, she went to see if there were any simple jobs that she could be hired for, and typically, there were never any.
Seeing her reflection in her mirror, she wanted to cry. Her mother got her the mirror long ago, perhaps when she turned eleven or twelve. It had three panels, and it showed three of her faces as she walked by.
She paused, looking at herself. Who was she? That pretty girl in the mirror, or an intelligent mind? Was she a child, or an adult? Was she Cho Chang, with O's on her N.E.W.T.'s, or was she Cho, that hot chick sitting next to you?
She stared long and hard in that mirror. She wanted an identity. She wanted to be someone, and she was really going to do it.
On her way out of the house, she picked up the classified section of the newspaper.
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