Title: immortality was never grand
Summary: When their eyes met, it wasn't love at first sight.
Word Count: 848
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Contains mentions of character death. Oh, and lots of angst. LOTS of it. Don't like? Don't read it.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter isn't mine - he's all J.K. Rowling's. I don't intend any copyright infringement. The only thing that belongs to me is this fic.
Notes: My friend Jennifer issued me a challenge..She suggested that I write about Cedric and Fleur's first meeting (I'm not talking about the one between the four Champions) with the prompt "love at first sight." This is the result.
And before I forget! This is not only dedicated to Jennifer and Kalie, my two favorite LLS, but also to my readers. Thank you so much for your support. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it.
- - -
She had never met a boy quite like him.
Maybe that was a good thing.
(She used to be cynical then. The goddess with the broken smile.
And he had managed to capture her cold heart and keep it his forever.)
Practically every boy she had come across either were hormone-driven nymphomaniacs or superficial prats who only cared about her "timeless" beauty.
Cedric Diggory was different.
It hurts to cry.
-
The Quidditch World Cup. August 25, 1994.
A day she will curse always. You never do know what you had until it's gone. She muses.
Her friends dragged her to see the momentous event. She had resisted at first - yet there was something that made her want to go, so she finally relented. She even kept her desire secret from her amis so they wouldn't use it against her.
Look where that got me, she had been thinking wryly to herself - it was then that she saw him.
He had been part of the crowd (even now, she still can't say his name out loud - or it'll echo in her head like a lonesome song). Seated right next to Ireland's fangirls. The Fighting Irish!
She was captivated by him. Her friends had giggled their way past him and placed themselves a row or two away from him, and giggled even harder when he gave them a small, warm smile. She was fighting off her amusement, until he chose that moment to look at the enchantress by his side.
When their eyes met, it wasn't love at first sight.
-
At Beauxbatons that year, there was excitement in the air.
Everyone's hushed whispers about who will be our champion? followed her ears and echoed in the hallways. We want someone strong, they said. We need someone strong. Both in mind and heart.
Someone who will fight to the very bitter end.
When she first heard the word Hogwarts, and tried uttering it, it felt strange. Mysterious.
She thought of the boy with bottomless grey eyes.
Cedric, he had said. Cedric Diggory.
When she said his name, she couldn't help savoring its taste on her tongue.
She wondered if she would find him there.
-
He smiled when he saw her. Not the small warm one he had offered to her amis.
"Fancy meeting you here," His eyes offered her so much more. "Can I interest you in a personal tour of Hogwarts?"
She wasn't surprised at how quickly she said yes.
He impressed her with his easygoing charm and fluid grace. She figured him to be a Seeker. He laughed, not mockingly, and said, "how did you know?" with his eyes bright and knowing, his eyebrows arched.
"You move as if you were born to fly." She told him. "It's in your blood, your mind, your heart. It's in every part of you."
He looked at her but said nothing more. His eyes said it all.
-
They became good friends.
Good friends with benefits.
We break and mend each other.
-
The fifth day, she knew that she had fallen deep.
This will only end in tears.
She warned herself too late.
-
Seeing him dance with Cho Chang broke everything in her.
His smile hurt her now.
-
On the day of the third task, she woke up with dread in her heart.
(She imagined them happy together. They would live anywhere and everywhere - the serene, rolling prairies in the USA, an sprawling apartment in Spain, on a high-rise building in India. He told her once that he'd always wanted to visit Italy.
Alas, their story was one that wasn't meant to have a happy ending.)
"Maybe we can save each other," you told me when we met for the second time.
Can we save each other now?
-
Before the task began, he slipped a note into her pant pocket. She fingered it, feeling the crisp hastily scribbled piece of parchment burning her hand.
She saw him at one edge of the maze, away from prying eyes. They held onto each other, knowing that soon they would have to leave, but weren't ready yet. This was the last night of their existence.
Her hands danced across his neck and felt his pulse; steady, loud, strong against her fingers.
When the time came, they couldn't let each other go.
-
He stole her first kiss. "So you'll have something to remember me by," He cheekily grinned.
She found it hard to stay mad at him.
-
Thinking of that now makes her heart ache and shatter all over again.
We live in a beautiful world.
She feels the tears that stream down her face - quiet, salty, sticky. She hates being weak. (Pain is weakness leaving the body. The words have been drilled into her mind so she'll never forget them.)
Looking at the broken body that lies before her, she's tempted to run away and never come back.
Except she doesn't. Leaving him will turn my memories to dust.
She closes his eyes and holds his cold hands in her own warm ones.
"This isn't goodbye. It's see you later."
And somehow she manages to smile.