Punk Rock Girl

Cedric sat on the edge of the bed, a cigarette clasped loosely between two fingers as he took stock of what had just happened in the past 24 hours. His hands shook as he lit the cigarette. For once in his life, he had no plan. No notes. Nothing to tell him how he was going to proceed.

He took a deep drag and inhaled the smoke deep down into his lungs. He closed his eyes and pictured it going down and bruising the tissues before he exhaled it through his nose, wincing slightly at the still novel burn of it through his nostrils.

It helped calm him some, but it didn't solve his problem. He sighed and turned to look behind him. She was still asleep, her face buried in the pillows and her arms and legs sprawled out all over the place. The hair had changed colour sometime during the night to a black that was thickly and liberally streaked with pink that followed the line of her back as she shifted in her sleep. As she moved, the plaid sheet moved lower down her body, revealing a well-shaped arse and long muscular legs. One of which was still clad in a ripped green fishnet stocking. Seeing that stocking made Cedric's face heat up. That had been the first thing he had noticed when he had bent over to pick up his sketchbook.

He normally escaped the boredom of the ministry by going out to the park and sketching during his lunch hour. None of the muggles around him gave him a second glance as he sat there quietly, his suitcase set neatly beside him as he worked on whatever sketch had been niggling at the edges of his brain at that moment. Then, when timer on his watch went off, he'd pack up and go back to his mind numbing job of aimless paper-pushing until it was time to go home.

Cedric wasn't a clumsy man, despite being almost all long limbs and angles. He moved with a careless grace that he had forced himself to learn after ruining too many homework assignments and clothing from upsetting bottles of ink at the wrong times. So even though he had been thinking about yesterday, he still hadn't come up with a good enough reason as to why he had to drop the sketchbook at the same time that she walked by his bench.

He hadn't meant to look up at that time, nor had he meant to just keep on looking up and up to notice not only her legs but everything else she was wearing. The legs had been the first thing he had seen. Those impossibly long legs clad in fishnets that were held up by garters made all too visible by a skirt that was just a tad too short. On another girl it would have just looked silly. But on her, paired up with a tight ripped t-shirt and a leather jacket covered in patches and pins topped with that crazy shock of hair it was perfect. He couldn't take his eyes off of her.

"Done the inventory?" He flushed a deep red at that and he knew that he deserved it, but it still didn't stop him from turning red. He shook himself out of that quickly and finally picked up the book. He moved to put it in his bag, but she grabbed his wrist and pulled it out of his hand as neatly as if she was picking an apple from a tree.

The protests died in his throat when she fixed him with a sharp look as she flipped through the pages of the book. He felt the blood drain from his face as he waited for her to return the book, his mortification being too much to allow him to do anything except sit still. He hadn't shown anyone his sketches. In fact, no one really knew that he drew. It wasn't because he felt that they were that bad, but rather, he didn't want anyone to see that side of him.

"These are really cool." she muttered, almost too low for him to hear her words as her fingers lightly skimmed over the pencil and ink lines. She cocked her head at him and looked at him closely before a half-smile crossed her pale face.

"Weren't you in the papers awhile back? Before the war completely broke out?"

Cedric felt himself flush a bright red at her words. He was sure that he had sunk into enough obscurity for that to have been forgotten.

"Uh. Yeah..." he stammered, wondering how to get out that he had competed in the tournament without looking like an egotistical jerk.

"You won the Triwizard Tournament, didn't you?" she asked, making blush further as he nodded.

"Well, sort of. Harry Potter got there first, but he gave me the cup after...he met with Voldemort." He winced slightly at his answer and wondered if the girl was now going to make some excuse and flee as quickly as she could. Even to his ears that was one of the lamest explanations ever.

He knew that since he held the cup, he should have done more. It was an implication that he had somehow not managed to live up to. Not in the eyes of the world. Not in his eyes also.

Ever since he had more or less lost out the Triwizard Tournament- well, that was in the public's view- he had more or less sunk into the role of obscure civil servant, following in his father's footsteps, doing a job that paid well, but was as boring as dishwater. Cedric often wondered if him not taking the offer of the cup had been the right thing to do for many long nights after. He had to admit that he had, briefly, wanted to be the name that was on everyone's lips. But once the whispers had started, followed by the attacks and then the war itself, Cedric had understood that fate had stepped in and saved his life. He realized afterwards that he would have either been maimed or dead that night. So he had made his peace with that and had decided to resign himself to his quiet life.

But sometimes he would feel a desperation that he couldn't contain. A vague sense of dissatisfaction that he knew all too well he wouldn't be able to bring up with anyone. He didn't have any close friends and his girlfriends were more or less week-long stands. He knew his parents wouldn't have anything to say to him in regards to that. So he kept quiet and looked for something else to ease that desperation.

Cedric supposed that was why he started to draw on his lunch hours. That was the one way he could express what he couldn't say to anyone else. And now this punk goddess was more or less looking through him. Everything he had been and everything he hoped to be and he couldn't lift a finger to prevent the probable sneer and mockery that was sure to follow.

She had finished by then and instead of the mocking smile he expected to see on her heart-shaped face, he was surprised to see it being a thoughtfully calculating look. As if she was sizing him up as she tried to decide if he was good enough to pass a test of sorts.

He must have passed, he decided, when she tossed the book at him and pulled him to his feet.

"Come on. We need to get out of here." she had a thick alto that put the image of smoke and dark wine in his head and he could only nod dumbly and grab his ever so respectable suitcase before he let himself be dragged away wherever it was that they needed to go.

"What's your name?" He had to ask as he bought some time. Just in case he needed to run.

She grinned at him and shook out her bright pink hair.

"Tonks."

"Cedric Diggory."

She had smiled at him. "I know. Come on."

Cedric blinked at that reply. How had she known? He opened his mouth to ask, but the point was moot when the park disappeared and was replaced by a decidedly odd looking street.

They must have side-apparated, Cedric mused as he took another drag from his cigarette, since the next thing he remembered was stumbling when they reached their destination. He didn't remember much about that place, only that she had shoved him inside a small cubicle after stripping him of his work robes and shoving what was more or less a pile of rags at him. He was too bewildered, or if he wanted to admit it, or rather too excited to have any misgivings about the situation. So he had put on the too tattered and patched almost skin-tight trousers, an old band shirt and battered denim jacket. She had shoved boots that looked like they had seen service onto him and made sure they fit. Once he had been kitted out and his suitcase transfigured into a rucksack, she had taken him to visit some acquaintances. Where she had pierced his ears with a needle and ice cube and poked three hoops through the bloody piercings that she healed up when the muggle friends weren't looking. It had hurt, but he had to admit he liked the change. It was different. Not like him at all. Cedric only had time to admire the results for a few minutes before they started to wander about in what felt like a mad scavenger hunt through what he was shocked to find out was an artsy/bohemian district. They went into what felt like a never-ending throng of shops that sold things Cedric hadn't even dreamed existed.

He talked to Tonks and they both talked to different people and he was surprised and a bit ashamed to realize that there was an entire world out there that he hadn't even bothered to look for, much less know about. When he had told her about his realization as they sat eating in a pizza place that sold vegetarian and goat cheese slices for less than three pounds, she had given him a crooked smile.

"Not everything can be learned from books, Ced. And sometimes lives can be lived in the gutter. Finish your pizza. We need to expand your education a bit more."

With that, she threw her napkins into the rubbish and lit up a fag. Cedric only nodded and quickly bolted down his food. She stood up and grinned at him, her cigarette clenched between small white teeth and bolted down another one of those little hidden alleyways this area specialized in.

He blinked once they were outside. He had to admit he was surprised that it was already dusk. He honestly hadn't thought that they had spent that much time together, talking and learning about each other and him learning about her life. In fact, it just felt right. And he wasn't going to let his straight-laced schoolboy habits end it. He was going to ride this until it burned out.

She led him to a packed nightclub full of people dressed like they were. Loud, angry and discordant riffs attacked his ears the minute they moved further inside. He thought that he would hate it, but after a minute or two, he realized that was the music he needed to hear. He needed to know at that moment that he wasn't the only one disenfranchised, feeling lost and on the fringes.

Cedric smiled at the memory and finished off the cigarette, killing the end in an empty can of beer lying nearby. He knew that was when the night got charged with something more than just simple excitement. He still didn't know how to put it into words what he had felt at that moment, but it hadn't mattered right after Tonks had pressed some kind of drink onto him and dragged him out to slam-dance onto the crowded dance-floor that looked like it was crammed to the brim with writhing bodies.

He gulped down the drink and followed her, all caution and fear thrown to the wind as the drink warmed him up from the pit of his stomach to the top of his now messy hair. It was crazy and exhilarating and for the first time in what felt like years, he felt fucken alive. Nothing could dampen that feeling as he learned to slam-dance along with Tonks, his body moving and twisting, as they both tried to make their movements be a perfect blend of music and feeling.

He caught her eye many times and he saw that she agreed in some way. No words needed to be spoken as they occasionally bounced off one another, got shoved away and then clashed together in the same sensuous and violent movements of pale, muscle-corded limbs.

They must have drank more throughout the night. The bands changed, the people changed and he chatted with everyone they came across. Maybe it was the booze or the adrenaline. He didn't care. The night was so liberating that he was sorry to have to take off with Tonks, who was smoking what seemed the hundredth cigarette of the night, as they stumbled off to where Tonks had told him she had a place. It barely registered in his alcohol soaked mind whatever direction they were heading to. She had put her arm over his shoulders and her breast was pressing into his side, and that pretty much had driven any coherent thoughts out of his mind.

He didn't notice how long they walked for, or that they had to run up a couple of flights of stairs to get to a small flat that smelled strongly of jasmine incense and coffee and a lingering scent of cloves. Tonks locked the door behind them and turned on a small lamp that shone blue light on the white walls that were covered by framed prints of art and concert posters. Books and clothes along with music magazines and indie newspapers were scattered all over

"Sorry about the mess. I was going to clean, but I didn't think I'd have guests. You want a beer?" She asked right before she pressed a can into his hands and set about cleaning up the place with a few muttered spells while Cedric blinked sleepily and sat heavily on the mattresses that made up the bed.

"It didn't matter." He finally told her as she plunked herself down beside him.

"It's done. Don't worry about it." She replied as she popped open the can and took a healthy slug of beer. Cedric laughed softly before he too followed suits and drank down about a quarter of his beer, spluttering a bit when he was done and making Tonks laugh.

He looked at her after he had gotten himself under control. He wished that he remembered what he was going to say to her, but it was forgotten when he met her dark eyes and her mouth clashed against his.

The beer was forgotten as her hands and his moved quickly to strip off clothing. Jackets, ripped up almost useless t-shirts and patched trousers and skirts flew all over the place. These were quickly followed by a black brassiere, lacy knickers and conservative briefs.

They slid up the bed, heated flesh pressing against heated flesh. Angles met curves as they moved to find the right position before anything started. He liked the taste of her mouth, liked the texture of her lips and the way that she arched her back slightly as he brushed his fingers against those pale nipples that peaked up with the lightest encouragement.

Her hands weren't idle and they traced all of the lines of his ribs and his vertebrae before the nails dug in sharply, making him hiss and take the hint. He ghosted his fingers down her waist and over the small pooch of her belly before reaching the damp and warm juncture between her legs. She was a bit wet, he found as he slid one, then two fingers into her, making her give out small squeaks as he explored her. He watched her carefully and was pleased to see she was biting her lip and her eyes were screwed shut while soft breathy moans escaped from her.

He slid in quickly, surprising her at his deftness. He could see the questions in her eyes, but he only bent his head to give her neck a lazy lick, making her shudder as he then blew on it. He wasn't that ignorant of the world. Or at least he prided himself on knowing enough about this subject at least.

Cedric fucked her at that point. There was no room to be gentle. Not right then. He would be gentle with her later. Or maybe she would be. Right now, it was a matter of forming an almost violent connection between them, to prove that both of them were alive and that day was not something that they were going to forget. A way of sealing the pact in every way possible.

They lay too still when it was done, the halo of smoke and incense the mute witness of what had occurred in that bed. They didn't say anything. Just finished the cigarettes and had sex again, this time with Tonks on top, her hair changing colours as she rode him and clawed deep furrows in his chest. He was sure that when she had finally reached her orgasm, he heard her whisper a name before she fell asleep beside him, both of them spent in the early morning.

Cedric finally shook himself out of his reverie and looked at the clock. It was ten fifty-four and there was no way he was going to make it into work. Not today at least.

Shrugging, he moved up the bed and spooned right behind Tonks, who instinctively scooted towards his warmth. He buried his face in her hair and inhaled her scent before falling asleep again. He figured that there was no harm in having a good-lie in.

-O-O-

They got up later in the day and took a shower together. They talked some, but it was the quiet good-bye talk. He got dressed and she walked him to the apparation point.

He kissed her and wanted to ask if they would see each other again, but she was gone. He too went home and went up to his room, ignoring both of his parents as he did so. He lay down on his bed and stared at the ceiling. At least he had had that one day of freedom, he mused. It would have to be good enough.

Ende