Title: Buoyancy
Summary: His laugh echoes like a funeral dirge.
Word Count: 1,030
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Angst, angst, angst. Some OOCness and a little bit of fluff. And it's AU. So if you're not into that kind of thing..need I say more.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter's not mine - it's, unfortunately, all J.K. Rowling's. And the line "you're the only one breaking me down like this" comes from the lovely song "So Contagious" by Acceptance. The only thing that belongs to me is Sonomi (who's Cho's younger sister in this).
Notes: I wrote this for my friend Lix's Cho Chang Fic-A-Fest. I chose some prompts for myself - one was park, the other was Cedric.
I'm not confident about my writing anymore so I don't know what to think of this fic. It's my first time writing Cho/Cedric..I can't say whether this is good or not. Anyway. This fic goes out to Lix. Thank you for organizing the fic-a-fest in the first place and also for being such a loffly friend. I'm sorry this is late.. And I would also like to thank Flo and her gorgeous Cho/Cedric fics which inspired me to write this.
- - -
Sometimes she wonders what would happen if she changed the past.
The countless what ifs taunt her every day.
He would still be alive.
She squeezes her eyes tightly at the thought.
They might have married. In another place, in another time, she would've been Mrs. Chang-Diggory.
She remembers telling him once that she didn't believe – still doesn't - in adopting only the husband's last name. He had grinned at her. "As you wish, milady."
Maybe adopted a kid or two. Or have grey-eyed, black-haired mini Chos and Cedrics run around their home.
Voldemort would have never returned.
She remembers the look of utter remorse on Harry's face. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It's my fault he's dead.
His laugh echoes like a funeral dirge.
She wishes she could forget. Remembering the what ifs and what would have beens only makes her heart ache even more, so much it threatens to pull her under. She's finding it harder to find air.
It hurts to breathe. It hurts to live.
She can't forget. Her memories are all she's hanging onto.
You're the only one breaking me down like this.
Forgetting means letting go.
Her hands clench and grasp nothing.
-
She had eventually moved on. It was slow, painful, trying to recollect every memory she had of him and the two of them together and lock it away safely behind an imaginary door. Sometimes she lets herself get lost in the past.
The past is comforting. The future is not.
Every time she opens the door it aches a bit less.
She's surviving, and that's good enough right now.
-
Today she ignores everything and goes to her favorite park.
It's so beautiful she looks away.
She remembers when they used to play tag, the curiously fun Muggle game, and he would always let her catch him.
She walks along the path, not really seeing or hearing or feeling anything. She sits down on a bench near the playground and lets the memories wash over her.
He still lives on, even after death. He's all around her – she sees glimpses of him wherever she goes. A grey eye here, a mischievous smile there, a loud, joyful laugh echoing in the air, a sweet smile everywhere.
In some way, it's reassuring – she knows she's not alone now. They're together even after they've been driven apart.
She remembers sitting back with him on a blanket one warm summer night. The sky laid out before them. He taught her the names of constellations and told her the stories behind them. Her eyes would follow his fingers as they uncovered secrets about a world they were just beginning to know.
If he saw her now she knows what he would say.
And she bows her head so that no one sees the tears that stream down her face.
Let go.
-
She still thinks of him. He is in her every thought, her every action, her every emotion. Constantly. He's there with her each time she faces down a dark wizard, each time she thinks of all the people she's lost (Marietta, Sonomi, her parents -), each time she falls down and gets back up. Always. He lives in her.
She remembers the memorial (not funeral, never funeral) they held her fifth year. Her throat was raw and she felt as if she had been ripped in half and would never be whole again. That day she vowed that she wouldn't, couldn't let herself forget. She would remember for him.
She thinks of him even more fervently.
Ten years. She can't believe it's been that long. That it's the tenth anniversary of his death.
She doesn't stop crying for a very long time.
-
She hasn't dated since. After Harry, she didn't let anyone else get close to her heart. It wasn't Harry's fault – she had no more love to give. Any piece of her that was left over was his. She had given all of herself to him.
And intuitively she knew that Harry had sensed it too and so broke things off with her.
"Your heart is his. For eternity, I'd say." A shadow of a smile haunted his face. "It's okay. I know when I'm beat. It's always been him." He hugged her and forgave her with his eyes.
She mourns for what could have been.
-
She remembers Christmas, when he stole a kiss from her and she beat him at many snowball fights. Afterwards they had hot cocoa and sat next to each other in front of the fireplace on her mother's prized Persian carpet, talking about anything and everything.
(She had often wondered if she was in a living fairy tale. When she said this out loud, he had replied, "You're the enchanting princess and I'm your dashing knight in shining armor" with an impish glint in his eyes.
"You're so much more than a mere knight," she told him, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
"I'm not dashing?" He pouted cutely and looked sorrowful.
She laughed giddily. "More debonair than what's allowed in the fairy tale quota for knights like you."
He kissed her hand. "Then I'll be glad to set a new quota.")
She's become stronger as the years pass by. He gives her the strength to go on. It's easier to laugh now.
She knows she deserves to be happy.
Even if she's without him.
-
She gets up and walks shakily at first. Then, gradually, steadily, her steps become confident.
Dried tears can still be seen on her face, but somehow she manages to smile.
It's lovely and heartbreaking at the same time.
-
She knows she cannot change the past. Knows that pondering the endless what ifs and what should have beens will make her sink beneath the surface once more.
She takes it day by day. Slowly, slowly, she lets herself breathe.
She'll never be whole, only half. It'll still hurt to only hold him in her heart but never again in her arms. Eventually she'll retrace her steps and let herself live.
For the first time in a long time, she realizes she's floating.
She finds air.