Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Not a Spare, But a Love
By: ChoCedric
When Cho Chang hears that Voldemort called Cedric a spare before he had his servant kill him, she is so angry that she wants to pound her fists into him, to scream until her throat is raw. The grief drowns her again, choking her and almost making her gag with the force of it. She feels as though she is angry enough that she can cast an unforgivable herself, an unforgivable at Voldemort.
How could the bastard call Cedric a spare? He was the love of her life, the kindest person she ever knew. His radiance shone out for everyone to see, and there wasn't one student he didn't help. He didn't have one bad bone in his body, and the fact that he was so mercilessly struck down, and called a spare, to boot, makes Cho want to vomit up everything she ate, heaving and heaving until the contents of her stomach are emptied.
Cedric wasn't an insect. He wasn't a nuisance that needed to be eliminated. If anything, Voldemort and his insane mass of Death Eaters need to be slowly and brutally tortured, Cho thinks in absolute rage. She can remember vividly the fear and desperation on Cedric's lifeless face when he arrived back from the third task, as though he was screaming out for help in his final seconds. She can remember looking into his staring eyes and feeling the most grief-stricken she has ever felt. And the nerve of Voldemort, to call him a spare, as if he were a waste of space, as if he was something that needed to be flushed down the toilet.
Cho knows that for as long as she lives, she'll never get over losing him and what he was called before he died. He was the joy, the beauty, the happiness, the love, in her life, and she'll always hold his memory deep within her heart. She vows that she'll get revenge on Voldemort, and she'll fight him to the last breath in her body. Then she can go and rejoin Cedric, the boy who was not a spare, but a love. A true and beautiful love.
