Well, this is a pretty fast update for me! Thank you so much for your reviews. I checked the stats, and they were amazing.
Also, I would like to clarify just one thing. I am still wondering about who to pair Hermione up with in this story, so I think that all the readers should know that it may not necessarily be Cedric. Okay, it's probably be 99% Cedric, but there's a mystery bloke.
Please read and review!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
~conorlover~
Chapter 2
Introductions
Slowly, slowly, she slid the arm of her expensive robe up, revealing the smooth surface beneath. Or what should have been smooth. Now, it was mottled with several long, fresh pink scars, around which her skin throbbed angrily.
He would be very angry if he saw her skin like this. He had loved her arms, called them the arms of a 'nymph', pale and milky.
But he had also ruined her life, her family, and her reputation, not to mention his own.
But she was still addicted to him.
She knew that, because every time she closed her eyes, she could see his face, his lips, his chest, his brilliant eyes. He had made her feel complete, every time that man, that horrible man, had torn her down, had humiliated and ruined her.
But now she was ruined. And so was he.
And it was all her fault.
Picking up a thin blade from the counter in front of her, she gently drew it across the formerly pristine skin of her elbow.
Red blossomed.
Penelope Clearwater opened her make-up box, applied a deep scarlet lipstick to her plump, artificially enhanced lips, and then, closing her box with a snap, proceeded to continue with her job which was doing absolutely nothing.
Her boss was late today, as she had been for every Monday for the past few months. Nobody could complain, though – the woman worked all through the day, sometimes staying around the clock, and worked on weekends. She was a superwoman.
Penelope had been terrified to work for her at first, scared that the woman would make her stay back with her and do just as much work, but soon it appeared that her boss didn't like to leave work at the hands of others. So Penelope rarely had anything to do apart from sitting around and staring at the people passing by.
She wasn't complaining though. She wasn't stupid. Although her boss's attitude made her sometimes feel unwanted and incompetent, she wasn't going to screw her position up as an assistant (basically receptionist) to the Head of the Department for Magical International Affairs. Why, she was the first person from her class to get up this high, if you didn't count Percy Weasley, who had become Assistant to old Barty Crouch years ago, and was now leading the Department for Magical Co-operation. It made her regret dumping him sometimes, because, even if he was a pompous brat and a twit, his family was still very close to the Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and enjoyed some definite advantages. His position was, after all, a definite up to her current boyfriend's, Roger Davies, who was NOT enjoying himself at the level of Junior Reporter at the Daily Prophet. Being subject to his writing, Penelope was still wondering why they agreed to employ him at all.
She sighed, and resigned herself to a day of watching passer-by's and listening to gossip. Not that the latter wasn't a very exciting option – after all, it did reveal some exciting tidbits of information about her colleagues. Like how her boss's husband was so obviously cheating on her with his old girlfriend – there were rumors that she had even agreed to become his mistress! Penelope wasn't surprised – although they had reportedly been friends for years, her boss was a high-level Ministry employee, while her husband was a popular Quidditch player. Their temperaments didn't hit off. Even so, she admitted that the husband was a fool – although her boss was pushy and demanding, she often surprised Penelope by kind gestures, such as sending flowers to her when she had been in St. Mungo's after a teapot bit her, or offering to pay for her mother's operation. Sure, she was insanely rich, but still, how many people offered to do that?
Also, she had that quiet, understated beauty which flashier girls like the one hanging on above Quidditch player's arm overshadowed. She was no doubt a shrewd and cunning woman, but there was a quality to her which made you respect her without doubt.
Lately, however, she had been looking more harassed than ever. A few months ago, she had actually fainted in office, and her friend, an insane editor, had come to pick her up. After that, she was late every Monday.
Penelope didn't blame her – the rumour that was currently doing the rounds was one that was heart-shattering for every woman. Apparently, her boss's husband had moved out of their house, was living with his girlfriend (mistress?) and was demanding a divorce.
Her faded blue eyes suddenly caught sight of a petite woman in navy robes walking towards her. It was her boss!
She stood up, automatically smoothing her hair, and smiled, saying "Good morning, Mrs. Weasley."
Her boss walked inside her office, with a murmured "Good morning, Penelope."
She sighed, sat down, and watched her boss, Hermione Weasley, nee Granger, walk inside her room.
Cedric Diggory was absolutely frustrated.
His newest patient, Hermione Weasley, one of the top officials in the Ministry of Magic, was proving a very difficult nut to crack. She had been coming every week for the past three months, and yet had anything to mention about the real reason she was attending at all.
Oh, she was very enjoyable, to be sure. Their little game made him feel breathless with excitement, like a child once again. He was giddy with euphoria every time she initiated it, eager to hear her little anecdotes, and delirious to tell her his own, to listen to her intelligent, sarcastic, and endearing questions.
But professionally, he felt like a complete and utter failure. He had never met a patient who was so completely determined on avoiding the subject, and was quite nonplussed. At first, he had thought that she would give up after a few sessions, two or three at the most, break down and tell him everything. But she had persevered with an almost religious devotion, strictly steering the conversation back to non-dangerous zones.
That was why he had been forced to resort to methods like the one he was going to use now. Usually he never contacted anyone even remotely affiliated with the patient, in order to avoid distressing them, but then again, he had never quite come up against this kind of patient before either.
He had written to one of his previous teachers at the University, asking them for advice. The wise old man had advised him to give her time. She would eventually break down, he had said.
He had given her time. And it hadn't worked. And he was so tired of seeing those chestnut eyes that tried so hard, but couldn't really succeed at hiding the fear and trepidation that his inside them. So he would have to do this his own way.
He stepped up to the door and knocked. It was decorated with various types of garlic and something that resembled a green onion. The office staff had directed him to it, warning him not to step closer than 5 inches to the door. He had obeyed their instructions without a shred of incredulousness – he had met this particular person before, and her habits were legendary in Hogwarts.
A faint voice called out musically from inside "Come in."
He opened the door and walked inside, careful to avoid the patch of mushrooms that appeared to be sprouting near the entrance.
"Cedric," the blond-haired girl said, smiling.
"Luna," he acknowledged.
Luna Lovegood was a pale slip of a girl with pale blonde hair, silver eyes, and palest skin ever seen on a human being. Her father Xenophilius Lovegood had run this office before her, and had also been a former schoolmate of his father, and one who had once, inadvertently saved his life, so visits from the Lovegoods were not infrequent. Combined with the fact that the Lovegoods lived barely a couple of miles from his estate (in a bizarre, tower-like building), Cedric had been quite familiar with them in his early years.
Luna was three years younger to him, and he had been in his third year at Hogwarts when she had arrived. Basking in his newfound popularity, especially among the girls, he had failed to notice, or rather, ignored, the amount of bullying that the more-than-a-little-unusual girl had to go through. It was something that he had regretted later in life, but never found the object to rectify.
The object of his thoughts gestured for him to sit on one of the large, clawed arm-chairs that were placed in front of her rather bizarre, feathered desk. He obliged, stopping for barely a millisecond before to inspect the chair as to where it was free of all Unidentified Magical Objects.
Luna smiled, and, conjuring an eye-watering yellow teacup from nowhere, proceeded to pour them both tea – or at least he presumed it was tea, he was never sure with Luna – which she later pushed towards him. Politely, he took a sip of the concoction, nearly gagging – it was absolutely vile.
"Tasty, isn't it?" Luna inquired. "It's Daddy's Gurdyroot soup. It's quite a rage among our neighbours – everyone wants the recipe."
Cedric nodded as he tried to choke down the tea – his mother had taught him to be polite, and spitting out the tea, or whatever it was, would definitely break the rules of etiquette, no matter how vile the liquid in question was.
"So, was Hermione really so difficult that you had to come to me to find out the answer?"
He really did choke this time, staring at her in amazement. "How did you - " he stopped midsentence. Luna had a knack for these things. "Never mind. And yes, she was. She won't tell me a thing, Luna. How am I supposed to treat her if I don't know anything?"
Luna nodded. "I understand, Cedric, but I'm afraid that I can't tell you anything. I don't know anything myself, you see. She won't tell me."
"And you're honestly telling me that you know nothing?" Cedric's voice was challenging. Luna knew and sensed everything.
Her pale silver eyes narrowed. "I have my suspicions," she admitted. "However, those are certainly none of your business. If Hermione wanted you to know, she would have told you. And as it is, I don't know for sure, either. They are, after all, just suspicions."
Cedric hung his head, guilt creeping up on him for having invaded Hermione's privacy. "I'm sorry, Luna."
"It's alright." He looked up to see her smiling down at him. "I understand that you were curious. It could happen to anybody."
He nodded his head once again, still feeling guilty.
"Now that that's over, and you're here…" Luna continued. "I might as well tell you about Gurdyroots, right?" She beamed.
An hour later, Cedric Diggory appeared from the office of Luna Lovegood, Editor of The Quibbler, with his hair mussed and the first few buttons on his shirt undone. He was walking almost at a run, and with a desperate look on his face.
The staff didn't even bat an eyelash. They were far too used to this for it to be a novelty.
Working with Luna Lovegood had its oddities.
Lavender Brown pouted in front of the mirror as she tried to find out the perfect expression for her current outfit.
Her darling Ronnykins was due home soon from practice, and although the chances of his coming without partying first were slim, she still wanted to be ready.
She brushed her hot pink miniskirt and tube top as she went downstairs, stopping at every mirror to admire herself. She looked gorgeous, her blonde hair done up, exposing her ample cleavage to the man she loved most.
Her current residence was a luxurious apartment, with two floors, filled with the most priceless memorabilia and trinkets. Money, after all, wasn't a problem – Ronnykins was the star keeper of the Puddlemere United, and got a monthly salary that was what millions of people earned in a year. Then there were advertisements, sponsorships, public appearances… oh yes, money definitely wasn't a problem.
Ronnykins should be coming home soon now. Yes, home. Not to that awful place he shared with the Granger bitch. He didn't know what had happened between them, but one day Won-Won had appeared at the door late at night – startling her, because he was usually there only in the evenings – and hadn't left since. She hadn't pushed. She was just too delighted to find out that he had finally moved in with her.
Some people would call Lavender Brown a homebreaker, or a mistress. She preferred to call herself 'Ronnykins' one true love."
She settled down to wait for her love to come home.
Neville Longbottom was confused.
For the past few days, something had been out of sorts with the people he called friends. He had been training in Belgium under a renown Herbologist, Walter Wimplings, and had been unable to come home for several months. When he did, he found that everything had gone to hell.
Ron had moved out of the house he and Hermione shared together into Lavender Brown's apartment. Ginny was temporarily staying with Mrs. Weasley at the Burrow, Harry also having vacated their house to stay at the Leaky Cauldron. Neville had gone to the Burrow the other day for dinner, and the moment he had mentioned Hermione and Harry, a dark cloud seemed to have descended over the whole party. Luna was refusing to tell him anything, Harry was avoiding the subject and jumping like a rabbit whenever he mentioned Hermione or Ginny's name, and Hermione was refusing to meet him altogether.
Luna had told him not to push. "She's going through a tough time right now, Neville," the gentle blonde had said.
Neville was sure she was, but how was he supposed to live without knowing what had gone wrong with his best friends? There was obviously something tearing them apart.
Neville knew, that despite the fact that they seemed impermeable, his friends were actually extremely emotionally fragile. While Ginny and Harry were still somewhat stable, Ron's promiscuous, irresponsible behavior was a toll on their marriage. Instead of confronting him about it and insisting that he spend some time to mend their marriage, though, Hermione had instead chosen to delve even deeper into her work. Both of them were to fault for their failing marriage, which was obvious not only to their closest friends, but also to the entire Wizarding Britain.
Harry and Ginny, however, were still considered the 'Golden Couple', and rumours of a break between the two was highly unprecedented. Neville could not, for the life of him, think of a reason as to why it should be happening. They had been dating since his sixth year, and there had been no 'other woman' like Lavender Brown in their relationship.
Now, sitting in his sizeable apartment in Diagon Alley, Neville thought of the consequences of a possible break between the two couples.
If Ron and Hermione divorced, then he would be equally torn between his two friends. Yes, Hermione had helped him much before Ron had, but Ron had performed his own fair share. Ron had been to blame at first, but Hermione had also turned her head the other way instead of confronting the problem head-on. He could not take a side in this fray.
But he was perfectly sure that if indeed a split between Harry and Ginny took place, he would be on Ginny's side. Not that Harry had done any wrong, or never taken care of him, but simply because, ever since his 4th year, when he had asked her to the Yule Ball, he had been in love with Ginny Weasley.
It had broken his heart when she had married Harry, but he had thought that at least she would be happy with the man who loved her. But, if Harry hurt her, he swore to God, past acts of kindness forgotten, he would turn Harry Potter's life miserable.
He knew that Ginny didn't love him. She saw him just as a friend. He had never worked up the courage to face her, knowing that she was in love with Harry. She had regretted coming to the Yule Ball with him when the choice of going with Harry had appeared. He didn't blame her – who would a girl prefer? A bumbling idiot who couldn't pass in Potions, or a Dark-Lord-defeating boy?
But that didn't stop the yearning.
Lucy Diggory was an absolutely lovely woman, her colleagues claimed. Of course, this was mostly out of fear that she would inflict torture upon them otherwise.
Truth was, that Lucy Diggory was a frightful woman. She was loyal to her cause and her husband, and loved her son. But she was also frightening, simply because she would kill anyone who caused the least bit of harm to her son.
Right now, looking at her son's limp form, she couldn't help but worry. He had seemed slightly out of sorts when he had visited last Saturday, but today was Monday, and he was home. This alone was enough to frighten her.
"Cedric," she said tentatively. "Darling, are you sure that you don't want something to eat?"
Her son lifted his pale, ashen face from the counter on which it was planted face-down, and then said, with eyes slightly unfocused "Did you know that Gurdyroots can poison a yak but is an energy drink for humans?"
"What?"
"Gurdyroots are amazing…" he was drooling.
She was alarmed now. "Ced, what's wrong? Did you eat something funny?"
He giggled "Gurdyroot juice. Tastes absolutely vile, mother. I had 24 cups."
"Gurdyroots? Wait, isn't that what the Love-"
"I was visiting Luna," His eyes were pointing in different directions.
"Oh, dear." Lucy sighed.
Cedric slid to the ground in a dead faint.
So? How was it? Please, please review and tell me. Suggestions for my writing style are very welcome - you can PM them to me anytime. Has anyone guessed who is the person that the lady in the beginning of the chapter is talking about?
~conorlover~
