Title: A Chain Reaction
Main Pairing: Cedric/Angelina, Fred/Angelina at the beginning
Rating: T
Warnings: Slightly intimate scene, language
Disclaimer: I do not own characters, settings, or ideas conceived by J.K. Rowling and associates. This was written for pleasure, not for profit. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Life should be going great for Angelina Johnson. She has a caring boyfriend and loyal friends. However, emotions can throw your life upside down, and she finds herself tumbling in a hurricane of them. One wrong step, and events are set into a chain reaction. Set in her fifth year.
Author's Note: I was having a bad day yesterday, and decided to impose some of it upon Angelina. I hope you enjoy this ONE-SHOT!
"Angie! How are you?"
A pair of arms encircled her waist, and pulled Angelina into a warm body. She jumped before settling back into the embrace and laid her head on his shoulder. Every day, it seemed Fred was becoming more and more of a romantic. When he had first asked her out, almost two months ago, he wouldn't have done anything more than hold her hand. Even that was probably a stretch for him.
But now, he liked to be closer to her, kissing her hand and stroking her hair. It was disconcerting at first, when she wasn't accustomed to just how many freckles one person could have, but made her feel like she was the star of some romantic film. It felt nice to have someone care so much about her.
She opened her eyes, which had drifted shut, to see Fred observing her seriously. His pursed lips were too much for her, though. On tiptoes, to accommodate his height, she captured his mouth with hers. One of her hands reached behind her to pull his face closer. He tightened his hold on her and lowered his face so she didn't need to twist her body as painfully to reach him.
A cough and a giggle made Angelina very aware of her surroundings; the Great Hall. She pulled away with a gasp, color rising to her cheeks. Her bag was suddenly very interesting as she barely managed to mutter, "Good."
Alicia and Katie were staring off in separate directions when she looked at them, the latter tapping her fingers silently against her arm. They were the best friends anyone could ask for, and Angelina started to walk through Fred's arms to go stand next to them, but he held her firm.
"Where're you going?"
She patted his arms reassuringly. "Well, it is breakfast. As much as I'd love to snog you all day, I don't think my stomach could handle it."
Fred grinned, and broke his embrace. "Can I really make you lovesick?"
"I was talking more about your breath," she snorted, sitting down at the Gryffindor table. Fred slid into the empty seat next to her, and reached for the scrambled eggs.
"That didn't seem to bother you a minute ago," he murmured seriously, fork paused halfway to its destination.
Angelina rolled her eyes but couldn't contain a small smile. "I was kidding. Now you're gonna want to move away from the potatoes, or I might have to curse you."
His eyebrows shot into his hairline. "Is that a challenge?"
Before she could answer, or even understand his remark, his arms were wrapped around her, and his lips were pressed to her throat, showering the tender skin under her chin with kisses. She let out a very un-Angelina-like squeal and raised her arms hesitantly to his chest. God, she was angry, but God it felt good.
"Get a room, mates," a voice sneered, and Angelina glanced up to see George standing on the other side of the table with revolt written on his features.
Fred glanced up, the tirade of kisses brought to a standstill, but his thumbs were still tracing circles on her back. "What's your problem?"
George shrugged his bag onto the floor and took a seat next to Lee Jordan, who was pointing his wand at the bread on his plate and muttering something under his breath. "It bugs me to see you two, you know, eating each other's faces."
"And why is that?" Fred demanded, jabbing his thumb between her shoulder blades.
"Because that's what it would look like if I snogged Angelina."
The piece of breakfast meat Fred threw at his twin was caught before it did any damage, but the identical grins on their faces revealed that there were no hard feelings. Angelina managed to weasel out of her boyfriend's grip to eat breakfast and talk to her friends, though his hand rested on her leg under the table.
She relaxed into the babble, and was about to leave for her first class when someone tapped her on the shoulder.
Instinctively, she turned around, and at the same time, felt Alicia and Katie go stiff beside her. Fred was still wrapped up in a conversation about his latest inventions with George, and didn't notice the newcomer.
"Er, I think you dropped this," said Cedric Diggory. He was tall, but now he practically dwarfed her as he stood next to her seat.
It took her a moment to realize that Diggory was holding out her bag. She stood abruptly, only to find her body very close to his.
"Oh, I guess I did, thanks."
Katie giggled nervously next to her. Angelina shot her a look before snatching her bag from his grasp and sitting again.
He stood behind her for a moment longer; she could feel his gaze on the back of her neck, and was eternally grateful that he couldn't see the deep crimson her face had blossomed into. Fred had stopped chatting beside her, and was staring straight ahead, his jaw clenched.
"Hi, Cedric."
He turned automatically to reply, and threw a, "Well, I guess I'll see you on the Quidditch pitch sometime," before returning to the Hufflepuff table, where several people had their heads craned in her direction.
Angelina laughed nervously and mumbled something to Fred, but he didn't reply. When she asked what was wrong, he only shook his head, like opening his mouth would make him sick to his stomach. At last, he muttered, "Pompous prick," before glaring darkly at his eggs.
The next few weeks were some of the worst in Angelina's life. Fred had become very defensive of her, almost to the point where she was running into the girl's loo and empty classrooms whenever she saw his mop of red hair storming her way. Of course, some of the time it was George, but she was never willing to get close enough to find out.
Of course, they still spent time together, but it was usually in a brooding silence. When she asked him what was wrong, he merely shook his head and continued staring at whatever he had been before she invaded his thoughts.
To make things worse, teachers had decided to make her life a living hell, and assigned so much work that the floor of the girl's dormitory wasn't even visible. Alicia and Katie stayed strong for her for most of the time, but even friends have their limits, and they eventually got tired of blocking Angelina from Fred, or pulling an all-nighter to help her study for a test she had put off because she was obsessing about her boyfriend.
Angelina had started to take refuge in the Library; a maneuver she had picked up from Hermione Granger. Hardly anyone (besides the hardcore studiers) frequented the Library. She could often find solace in shelves that ran floor-to-ceiling with books. Even when it was a beautiful day out. Even when she wanted nothing more than to curl up and cry.
Quidditch could hardly help her mood, either. That was another hour she had to spend with other people, with him. Having Oliver yell instructions in her ear faster than she could make sense of was irritating. Actually, it was rather infuriating. Why did people have to be such jerks sometimes? Didn't she have the right to know why he was so angry? How could he be mad at her when she didn't even know what she'd done?
Angelina glared angrily at the page of her Transfiguration textbook. She didn't care about how to Transfigure a rat into a pocket watch. It was hardly worth her time to be seated, cross-legged, in the Library at an ungodly hour, but, then again, there wasn't a place she would rather be.
Curse Fred. Curse him for meaning so much to her that she couldn't function without him. What had happened to her strong will, unshakable determination to do things for herself and not depend on anyone?
"...pronounce in incantation clearly, stressing the marked vowels, while moving your wand in a simplistic jab at the object you plan to Transfigure, making sure to swish upwards at the last moment and..."
A simplistic jab at someone sounded like a fine idea.
"Uh, hi."
Angelina flinched guiltily, and slammed her book shut. "Look Fred, I'm really sorry we haven't been spending much time together lately," she muttered quickly, looking up, "but I've been really busy... oh, uh, hi, Cedric."
Cedric leaned against the bookshelf with his arms crossed against his chest in a classically handsome way. Angelina knew she shouldn't, but a light blush spread across her cheeks. "Sorry," she began apologetically, but he cut her off with the wave of his hand.
"No, it's my fault. Sorry for startling you."
Why was he apologizing? He hadn't done anything wrong. "It's okay."
"I, uh, just hadn't expected to find you here."
Angelina cocked her head to one side. "What do you mean?"
He laughed quickly. "I just sort of see you as an outside girl."
"You could say that," she snorted, rolling up her parchment.
Cedric shifted his weight against the bookshelf. "But, I'm happy I did find you."
He sure looked handsome, with hair swept into his eyes and muscles defined nicely, even under the unflattering school robes. How did he pull it off?
"Huh?"
He chewed on the inside of his lip for a moment. "Please, don't pack up since I'm here. I just need to talk to you for a minute."
She patted the carpet next to her, and he lounged with his legs extended. "Alright, shoot."
What an odd sight for someone to be browsing the shelves to observe. Cedric Diggory, the hottest guy in the school, possibly in the world, sitting on the floor in the middle of books and parchment, with Angelina Johnson.
"Did I mess with something between you and your boyfriend?" he asked straightforwardly.
Angelina raised an eyebrow. "You mean Fred?"
"Yeah. I mean, we were never really good mates, but I never thought he hated me." Until now. The unspoken end of his sentence hung in the air like moisture before a thunderstorm.
Dread filled the pit of her stomach. "What did he do?"
Cedric crossed his right leg over his left. "Nothing, really. At least, I don't think he meant it."
"Come on, just tell me. You wanted to talk to me, right?"
"At lunch, he might've set something off in my food or something. But that doesn't matter," he rushed as Angelina's face darkened. "He said he was sorry."
"He isn't sorry for half of the stuff he says he is."
Silence descended upon them. Cedric seemed deep in thought, he would grunt something inaudible from time to time, but other than that, didn't break Angelina's reverie. She, on the other hand, was fuming on the inside, not sure what she wanted to do more; stay and talk with Cedric, or get her hands around Fred's throat.
"Is everything okay with you?" he finally asked, patting her hand reassuringly.
Angelina had a smile and a forced answer of oh yes, of course I'm fine ready to use, but before she could get it firmly intact, emotions that she had been trying to quell rose to the surface.
Tears leaked from her eyes, and her throat constricted. Her shoulders crumpled in, and she hugged her knees to her forehead. Why now, of all times, did she have to cry? The last time Angelina had cried had been when a Bludger knocked her unconscious for a day and a half, and broken every rib on the right side of her body. Even then, when Madame Pomfrey said it would hurt like hell, she only let a few trickle down her cheeks.
But now, she was fragile, and tired of fighting a lost war.
It was bloody embarrassing to be snotting all over herself, but, by this point, she was past caring.
An arm wrapped around her shoulder, and she felt herself being pulled into a one-armed hug. Despite the fact that she was on the threshold of hysterical, she couldn't help but notice he smelled good. She was still human, after all.
Cedric sat with her while she cried freely. He didn't try to tell her everything would be okay, or that she shouldn't cry. He just let the tears come, and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze whenever sobs managed to break loose from her closed mouth.
After a while, the tears just wouldn't come anymore, and she leaned her head against his shoulder, exhausted. She was just a shell now, with nothing left but numbness inside.
"Thank you," she murmured into his shoulder.
He replied with a deep grunt that rattled in his chest, and turned her body gently so she was sitting on his lap, and he was holding her up with his arm.
"Hey, it's nothing."
Angelina smiled watery. "Do you still need to talk to me, now that I'm a mess? My hair looks like crap, and my makeup's probably running all over the place."
A pucker formed as Cedric's eyebrows knit together. "You look beautiful."
"You don't have to lie."
He brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. "I don't need to."
Her breath hitched in her throat as his stormy gray eyes stared into hers. She tried to return his gaze, but couldn't could it for more than a few seconds. "Convince me."
"If you say so..." he trailed off, eyeing something behind her head. She began to turn her head to see what he was looking at, but he caught her cheek with one of his hands and leaned down to kiss the top of her head.
"What..." The questions in her eyes couldn't have been clearer.
He rubbed his thumb on her cheek, never breaking eye contact. "You're beautiful."
Angelina hoped he couldn't feel the shivers running through her body. "I still don't believe you."
Still caressing her cheek with his thumb, he kissed the tip of her nose. "How about now?"
"No."
"Well, I guess we're going to have to change that, aren't we?" he asked, a grin pulling up the corners of his mouth as his gaze slid to hers and she flushed.
He leaned in, but paused, his lips millimeters away from hers. "I don't want to get in the middle of anything," he whispered, his warm breath brushing against her face.
Any protest she might have had against kissing Cedric Diggory fled from her mind as he hovered so close to her. She closed the distance between their lips by wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling his face closer to hers. His lips captured hers in a kiss that was soft at first, but then gained heat and passion.
It was perfect.
His hands rushed to her back and smashed their bodies together. She was fully on his lap now, hands alternating between the back of his neck and curling in his hair. Their lips moved together in rhythm. Once his tongue entered her mouth, it felt like it belonged there.
She moaned softly, leaning into him fully. He responded by laying her gently onto the carpet, their mouths never parting. The kiss would have lasted forever, but, finally, nature decided to remind Angelina that she was human, and she broke the kiss to gasp for air.
He was only a few inches above her, gazing curiously at her face, while she tried to get her racing heart under control.
All Angelina knew was that Fred had never kissed her like that. Sure, he was sweet, and thoughtful, but she had never felt the passion, or the overwhelming sense of how right it was for them to be together.
She also knew that it couldn't last forever. They would have to leave the Library, and then it would just be a memory. A dream, something that she would never be able to prove to herself that really happened.
"What're you thinking?" he questioned softly, and she gazed back up at him, her body tingling.
"I don't remember," she answered truthfully, captivated by the way light caught on his jaw when he smiled.
Except that he wasn't smiling anymore. "I shouldn't have done that."
The floor dropped away from Angelina, as well as her stomach, but she could only stare in horror. "What do you mean?"
"Come here in the first place, comfort you, kiss you."
No, no, NO. This couldn't be happening. He needed to stop talking this instant, let those poisonous thoughts drift away, and go back to the way things had been a few moments before.
"Cedric, don't."
But he had made up his mind. With a heave, he rolled around her, and stood up, brushing off his robes.
Angelina scrambled up without a second's hesitation.
"No, Angelina, it was a mistake, and we're both going to pay for it."
"Don't say that!" she sobbed, new tears welling up in her eyes. "Please, don't."
"Angelina?"
She spun on her heel, annoyed for all she was worth that people could sneak up on her so easily, and almost vomited on her feet.
Fred was standing, arms crossed, his face murderous.
"Fred?"
"No." His one word silenced her. "Don't even try to explain."
"Why are you here?"
He smiled, though it was more of a grimace than anything. "I could ask the same thing of you."
She stared at him, horrified by the carefully controlled monotone in his voice.
"Please, listen to me..." she pleaded.
He snarled at her, eyes bulging. "No, it's over."
"Wh-what?"
"Yeah, you heard me. If you're gonna sneak around and be a little slut, with Diggory, of all people, you can just, oh, I don't know, go to Hell or something."
"How can you say that? I caught you staring at that Ravenclaw girl a few weeks ago-"
"She had my homework, sweetie, my BLOODY HOMEWORK!"
"You know what, fine! You couldn't tell me the goddamn reason you were pissed the last few weeks, which is the only reason I was here in the first place, and now you're blaming me for what you did?"
His face was as red as his hair, and spit was practically flying from his mouth. "The reason I'm so 'goddamned pissed' is because what went on with you and Diggory at breakfast that one day!"
Angelina sneered at him. "Nothing went on between us, sugar bun."
Fred looked like he was considering strangling her. "Yeah, well I obviously wasn't too fucking far off."
Anger built up inside of her chest. "Just go. GO," she ordered quietly, vision blurred with rage.
Fred opened his mouth, sputtered, and then spun on his heel and stalked from the Library.
Angelina turned to Cedric, her insides in turmoil. "I'm sorry, I have to go," she murmured, scooping her bag up in one hand, and returning her books to their appropriate places on the shelf with the other.
"Wait." He grabbed her hand as she was about to make an unceremonious retreat to the door. "Don't go yet."
She sighed heavily, and tried to wrench her wrist out of his grasp, but he held firm. "Look, I've gotten in enough trouble tonight as it is. I don't want Madame Pince chewing me out too."
Instead of replying, he tugged her into a hug. She laid her head on his shoulder, and remained there for an immeasurable moment.
"Thank you, again," she said finally, and stroked his cheek with one finger.
Nothing was perfect, that was sure. But Cedric would be there to help her deal with everything, guiding her past minefields in the twisted network of emotions that was life.