Disclaimer:
*sniff* Sadly, the persons (Isn't that the coolest word? It may not be proper English, but I love it anyways, just like 'peoples') alluded to in this piece were not created by my twisted imagination, but that of the great and powerful J.K. Rowling. Please don't sue me, I just went Christmas shopping and I'm practically broke! *mumbles something about having better lawyers than anyone else too* Um, heh, *sweatdrop* Just go ahead and read now, por favor.Forgiven
by Krystyn Poe
She closed her eyes, letting the wind gently play with her hair, and a calm feeling washed over her. The school grounds were so nice at twilight…most people would be eating dinner at a time like this, but to her it was a time that could not be spent inside. The air was cool and crisp, and its clean scent of trampled grass and wilting flowers filled her nostrils, letting her believe she was in a sacred garden for a moment.
Then, suddenly, she was in a sacred garden. The day was bright and sunny, and birds were chirping, celebrating the beautiful day. Orange and cherry blossoms mixed with lilacs and roses to form a scent that almost overwhelmed the small gathering. The atmosphere of the people was somber, though, almost depressing. Words were being mumbled, and flowers were thrown, followed by fresh soil. Everyone threw something into the middle, except her. When it was her turn to throw something, many expected another rose, picture, or other small, memorable object to be thrown into the small abyss, but she had nothing to give but one small gift.
The girl opened her eyes, and the gathering disappeared. The orange and cherry blossoms were replaced by the setting sun, and the chirping of birds was replaced by the small splashes made by the giant squid in the nearby lake. Going on two years, and she still couldn't forget. Remembering was a curse and a blessing, and sometimes both. Yet, she didn't want to forget. He wanted her to remember, after all. He wanted his memory to stay alive while his spirit could not. She could grant that wish at least.
She closed her eyes again, and saw his face before her, pleading forgiveness…forgiveness she hadn't been able to give before now. Picking up the flute, she began to play.
It was a mournful song, slow and sad, savoring each note that had once reduced people to tears. Here, there was no one to cry anymore, no one to pay homage, no one to remember. Except her, and that was her gift to him. One could not throw a song into a grave.
Her breath faltered for a moment as she reached the middle of the ballad. It was almost as if he was there with her, taking her notes and weaving them into a tapestry of the past, then handing back all her painful memories to look at in one big picture…a big picture which had shifted dramatically in focus over time. His death changed so many things…things she was now ready to put behind her.
However, first the song had to be finished. Mournful tunes were fine for funerals, but not for memories. She began to play with renewed intensity, the notes falling quickly from her lips, swiftly taken away by the wind and sent towards the heavens. She played for herself, for him, for the boy who lived, for them all. She played the happy songs of life instead of the sad songs of memory. It was time to go on.
The song crescendoed, then wound down to the end. There it was, the joy and sadness, elation and pain, happiness and despair of life meshed unevenly together in a ballad of forgiveness. He was now forgiven, and so was she. His shade would leave her in peace now that her gift was complete.
As the sun dipped slowly back down over the horizon, the last rays of light seemed to embrace, her, warming her spirit and leaving her feeling more clean and pure than she had felt in years. The guilt cracked and crumbled, and the weariness left her posture completely. She no longer had to pretend she was fine, she was fine. Everything had been set right now. Her task had been completed.
She looked down at the flute and knew that the song she had just played was for him and him alone, that no other living creature would hear it. It would live in her heart forever, and that was enough.
As the stars started to come up, she smiled as a meteorite shot by in a beam of light. The heavens were smiling upon her, and so was he. It was finally over, and she could begin to live again.
And so could he.
Author's note:
In case you haven't already guessed, this is Cho finally accepting the fact that Cedric is gone and won't be coming back. It can take place whenever you like, but I personally imagine it taking place after One Last Chance. I think this is one of my better pieces, and I hope you enjoyed it. Thanks again to Jana for betaing this for me, and please review – I live off reviews.VIVA LA VIE BOHEME!