~*Everything You Want*~
Chapter Fourteen: Good Guys
Dove: Yet another muchly-dragged-out angst-fest… although… I loathe to write the next chapter… throughout the course of this fic I have grown to love him far more than in canon. Still… *holds up black-rimmed "Remember Cedric Diggory" flag* Remember, and understand. All love is different, and the love he and Cho shared will indeed leave a wound in her heart…
Thalia: *hugs Ced and cries into his shirt* Indeed... Cedric is wonderful, but his time, and the remaining time for the fic, is very short indeed. In this chapter, besides showing why Cho was so close to him, we have dreams... oh, so many dreams... but what shall come true? Read... and perhaps soon, you shall find out!
Disclaimer: You do realize that if we owned them, they would all go by names such as "Roggie", "Blaisey", "Dracie", and "Ceddie"... and that they would have constantly bruised ribs from repeated glomping without the protection of shirts.
"You dream a dream, but you never wake up
You're so afraid, that the dream is over
Open your eyes and you'll see
Daydreaming won't conquer me, no it won't conquer me
'Cause only the good guys can get what they're coming for
And all of the dreamers must take, what's apart
Only the good guys receive, what they came here for
And all you dreamers will leave with a broken heart…"
-Aqua, "Good Guys"
Cho rubbed her eyes wearily as she closed her potions book. Now that the Second Task was over and there would be several months before the Final Task, she was spending most of her spare time studying for her upcoming O.W.L.s.
This evening, she had spent several hours going over all of her Potions notes, and being quizzed by Penelope. The latter had finally gone to bed a moment ago, and had told Cho not to stay up too late. Cho had given the Head Girl a noncommittal nod, and now, moved to the couch by the fire to once again try to cast the Patronus Charm. The Common Room was deserted: this would be the perfect opportunity to practice with no one to disrupt.
She closed her eyes and determinedly spoke the words, but nothing came except a vast headache and a misty cloud from her wand. She sighed, and rubbed her temples, before picking up her wand and trying again.
Soon, the draining effect of casting the charm forced her to sit down on the couch. She stared morosely into the fire. She would get it! She would! Just because she wasn't...a long-blonde-haired someone... didn't mean that she couldn't do it!
Trying to ignore the ache in her protesting head, she once again focused what was left of her energy, and spoke, "Expecto Patronum!"
This time, besides the worsening headache and the indistinct cloud, there was an added soporific effect. Cho's head drooped, and her body slid into a fetal position on the couch. She fell fast asleep within minutes, her wand still in hand.
***
Roger Davies walked out of his dorm room and down the stairs in a black mood. What was it with those idiots, anyway? Kyle Cornfoot, one of his roommates, started with it that evening. "So, Davies... How's it going with the veela?"
The others had gotten into the act immediately, "She didn't do that well in the Second Task, I'm sure she needed some comforting." Chris Fox had said in a lascivious voice, and all of them had sniggered. Roger had not been amused.
Finally, he had left the room, saying something about organizing Prefect rounds, and the others had laughed, Kyle remarking that he was sure that Fleur would help him organize them if he asked nicely. Roger had left the room before the urge to hex any of them had grown too strong.
He entered the common room, expecting to find it empty. Instead, he found Cho fast asleep on the couch, her wand in her hand, an open book on Patroni lying on the floor next to her. Her hair was growing longer... now, it reached a little past her shoulders, and half of it slid forward to obscure her face. He wondered idly if it was long enough to braid yet.
She stirred fitfully in her sleep, and shivered slightly. Roger frowned. She had obviously fallen asleep studying, and the fire was dying down. "Accio blanket!" he whispered, and carefully, so as to not wake her, he covered her sleeping form up to her chin.
However, she did not stop shivering.
***
Cho was walking in Hogsmeade. It was a crisp winter's day, and the sun was setting in the sky. She was happy... it was Christmas, and she had just gotten a new broomstick from her parents. Now, maybe, she could win the Quidditch Cup for Ravenclaw! Roger would be so proud...
She felt a tap on her shoulder, followed by a tug on her... long... braid, and spun around. "Tag! You're it!" Roger laughed at her, and ran off. She giggled, and chased him. They were happy. They were friends. It was a beautiful world.
She ran... and the sky darkened as the sun set.
"Roger? Where are you?"
No answer. She scowled, "No fair! You can't hide! I'll just have to look for you, then. And I'll hit you with a tickling hex as soon as I find you, make no mistake!"
He was not in his house, or hers. He was not in Honeydukes, the post office, or any of the stores. Where could he be? "Roger, this is not funny! Stop being mean!"
Finally, she made her way to the Shrieking Shack. True, her mother had told her harrowing stories about the screams that used to issue forth from the place when she had been a student, but the place had been silent and peaceful as far as Cho could remember. And it would be just like Roger to hide there, and not expect her to look for him. Well, she would show him!
Bravely, she walked into the dilapidated hut. Darkness, and no sign of Roger. "Lumos," she whispered. The room was filled with broken and dusty furniture, and... what looked like blood on the floor. She felt a little bit of apprehension and fear creep up her spine. No, she needed to find Roger! He was finally being friendly with her again, she needed to find him!! And they needed to get out of this place! Together!
Setting her lips, she strode into the next room. Ah, there he was! Standing in the shadows, back to her, in a long cloak. She shivered with the cold, but forced cheer and courage into her voice, "Found you!"
He slowly turned around, and Cho felt her insides turn to ice. Then, a dizzying, horrible feeling in her head.
She found herself staring at... not Roger, but a Dementor!
It advanced on her, drawing a deep, rattling breath, one maggoty, gnarled hand reached as if to capture her. An angry, cold voice filled her head...
"A likely story, Chang… fifty points from Ravenclaw for staying out all night, and be thankful it's not ten times that!"
Blue eyes cold as chips of ice, and filled with hatred. Stark, inexorable, chilling hatred for her. He glared at her for a second, then sneered, and all of the sudden a silvery-blonde beauty appeared at his side, taking his hand and leading him away from her...
The Dementor advanced, and the horrible images in her head grew sharper... the accusing masculine voice growing louder and more insistent.
"NOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!" she screamed, forcing herself to picture an image of herself... dancing with him... that one last time before her fourth year... "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
This time, she felt something... something huge, distinct and powerful shooting from her wand arm, through her wand, and outward. The Dementor recoiled, and disappeared.
She found herself sitting bolt-upright on the couch in the common room, wand drawn, staring at Roger, who was watching her with an incredulous expression on his face. And hovering between them, issuing from her wand, was...
A bright silver eagle. Her Patronus. His Patronus. They were not supposed to be the same. No two Patroni were supposed to be the same. Why...
Without another word, she ducked her head and all but took off like a bat out of hell out of the common room and up the stairs to her dorm.
***
Roger stood, his eyes staring unblinkingly at the place where the silver eagle had vanished. His mind was blank, and it took him a few moments before he could shake his head slowly and sit down as if in a daze. Patroni weren't ever supposed to be the same! He had asked Professor Lupin about it last year. Truth be told, he had resorted to asking Professor Lockhart about it the year before when he was learning it in secret (as Flitwick was showing no signs of teaching it). Lockhart had somehow steered it into a conversation about his fanclub, and Roger had left, sighing. He had asked Professor Lupin the very first day of next term, and been answered with a prompt "No, it doesn't happen". As Roger had very much liked and respected this professor, despite what he was, he had taken it at face value.
Now, however, he was seeing one of the most set magical structures he had ingrained into his brain unravel. After all, according to his research, a Patronus came equally from the heart and the soul of the caster. There were no such things as hearts and souls that were exactly alike. The only way this could have happened was if the two casters were in reality the same person split, or… or… well, something else, he thought he might have read about something else, but it was so unheard of that speculation as to this point was considered silly and inane… he just wished he remembered what it had said, exactly.
Sighing, he stood, deciding to run to the library between classes the next day and see if he could find it. He didn't even want to think about leaving the common room-he knew that since a few first years had been caught out of bed, Filch patrolled the corridors around Ravenclaw particularly gleefully. As it wasn't his night to do prefect rounds, whatever he had told Chris, Kyle, Neil, and Robert, he thought it was best all around to go up to bed. He just wished he wasn't so sure he wouldn't sleep.
Opening the door to his room, he found that Robert's bed-curtains were drawn. Chris and Neil, however, were engaged in a game of chess and Kyle seemed to be brewing some sort of potion in a small, collapsible cauldron.
"Who just screamed down there, Roggie?" Kyle enquired. Roger winced. He hated that pathetic nickname.
"Don't call me Roggie," he told his roommate. "It was Chang."
Neil looked up from the game, which he was winning, and grinned. "What happened, did she walk in upon you and Fleur shagging on the couch or something?"
Roger calmly walked over, overturned the chessboard, and punched Neil in the face, sending him sprawling on the floor. He then walked up to Kyle. "Sleeping potion," he said, face blank.
"Now come on, Roger, really," Kyle argued. "Just because I'm good at Potions doesn't mean I keep one lyi-"
"Now, Cornfoot," Roger cut him off.
Kyle sighed, fished in the pocket of his robes, and handed him a small vial. "You owe me, Davies."
Roger smiled tightly. "Consider my payment not punching you to the floor as well. I would sorely like to." He swallowed the potion and felt his mind immediately relax. "Don't call me Roggie," were his last words before he crawled into bed, fully dressed, and fell instantly asleep.
***
The weather was starting to warm up again, and he felt the sun on his face. It was early springtime, and the cloudy cold of winter had passed. Roger was sitting outside, a book in his lap, by the birdbath in his yard.
There was a soft note of tinkling laughter behind him, and suddenly, two small hands covered his eyes. "Guess who?" the voice was familiar… spritely, spirited, young and happy...
He turned around, and saw her, standing behind him. It was... not Cho. But the girl looked very much like Cho indeed. Except for slight differences in the lines about the face, and hair a shade lighter, she could have been Cho.
"Cho?"
"Silly! It's Charisse!" the girl giggled, and took his hand in her small one. Roger blinked. He didn't know anyone named Charisse. The girl continued speaking.
"Mother wants to know if you're going to come to dinner."
"Mother?" Roger blinked. There was something very, very strange going on...
"You thought I was Mother for a moment!" the girl Charisse grinned, "But I'm not. She sent me out to fetch you for dinner."
All of the sudden, things clicked into place in his bewildered brain. Mother was Cho. This little girl was Cho's daughter... Cho and his daughter. It had to be... otherwise, why would Cho send her to fetch him to dinner? All of the sudden, he matched her grin, and stood up.
"All right, lead the way then, Charisse!" The girl smiled, and led him by the hand to the door of Cho's house.
The inside of the house smelled of baking bread and some sort of spicy oriental concoction. Charisse giggled and let Roger's hand go, running into the kitchen. Slowly, charmed, very afraid that this wasn't real, Roger followed her down the hallway. There were pictures on the walls. The little girl, from babyhood to her present age. A baby boy. Pictures of Cho's parents and other witches and wizards he didn't know. Cho looking delicate and shining with happiness in a long, white wedding gown. The next was a wedding picture where all the participants stood grouped together, waving. Just as he was about to examine this one, Charisse appeared. "Come on," she said impatiently, and dragged him away.
In the kitchen, Cho was standing with an apron around her waist, stirring something in a wok with chopsticks. She gave an apologetic smile. "Roger! It will be just a minute. Charisse, darling, set the table please," she added.
The little girl took a moment to look at the cradle in the corner and make a face at the baby inside before clattering plates, glasses and silverware. "Should I help, or-"
Cho laughed. "Oh, don't be silly! You're a guest."
Roger blinked. A guest? But wasn't he-
"Ced, if you don't put that paperwork away and have dinner with your family this instant, I shall leave it to get cold!" Cho called.
And into the kitchen through the door to the study strode Cedric Diggory. He reached into the cradle and picked up the baby, looking quite adept, as though he had done it a hundred times. "Sorry, dear. But you know those Romanian diplomats. You have to read what they say a hundred times to make sure they haven't put transfiguring you into a beetle in the terms."
Cho smiled up at him, eyes shining with love and contentment. "You can do it later," she declared. "Right now, we have a guest."
Cedric turned and grinned in a friendly manner at the pillar-still Roger. "Roger! Long time no see! How's France treating you, then? You write so rarely anymore. The last time we saw you was when Charisse was born. You haven't even met Cedric Jr." He reached out with the bundled baby. "Go on, get acquainted." Handing the baby over, he went and wrapped his arms around Cho, kissing her soundly.
Roger took the child woodenly and stared down at the baby, who opened Cedric's misty gray eyes-Cedric's eyes had they not been slanted-and gurgled at him.
With a scream of frustration and desperation lodged in his throat, Roger sat up in bed. It was nearly dawn.
Roger was surprised that he was able to go through all his classes the next day without screaming. The only thing that stopped him from skipping Divination entirely that afternoon was the fact that Professor Trelawney, during the last lesson, had specifically asked that he talk to her after class.
In retrospect, Roger felt that, perhaps, he should have skipped after all.
Divination had gone on without anything too unusual. Roger studiously avoided looking at anything or anyone but the crystal ball in front of him, and had listened with half an ear at Trelawney's lugubrious predictions. Oh... for this day... all of this... stuff... just to be over!
"Davies!" Trelawney's voice cut through his muddled thoughts, and Roger forced himself to pay attention.
"Yes?"
"You have not told me what you had seen in your crystal ball," the Divination professor said with a little sniff. Roger gave a shrug. What was there to see? Nothing but swirling mist. But of course, he couldn't exactly say that...
Deciding to oblige the professor's penchant for the macabre and melancholy, he said in a deadpan, sarcastic voice, "Lots of turmoil, death and heartbreak. People are going to suffer horrible fates, shocking revelations shall be made, and the Earth shall careen out of orbit, and basically, all of us are doomed."
Several of his classmates tittered softly, but Professor Trelawney suddenly looked thoughtful. "Davies, I recall telling you that I wanted a word as soon as possible."
Roger said nothing. The professor waved a hand at the other students, telling them that they could leave, it was the end of class, and turned back to Roger.
"My dear boy, you must know by now what it is that I am keeping you here for."
"No, actually I don't," Roger replied abruptly, adding mentally that he didn't particularly care to know, either.
Trelawney looked scandalized. "My boy, you are gifted with the Sight! Surely by now you must have noticed... your deep perception... your spectacular gift. This is a rarity indeed... you must have experienced some premonitions?"
"Not that I know of," Roger replied tersely. Trelawney looked frankly surprised.
"But that prediction you made... it is precisely what shall happen! I, too, have Seen it when I gaze into the depths of the Orb."
Roger was now quite certain that he was not a Seer. But Trelawney continued, "If not premonitions, have you seen any omens? Perhaps..." and here her voice hushed dramatically, "Prophetic dreams?"
Roger took an involuntary step back, and the professor smiled, "A-ha! I knew it! I always recognize the signs of a true Seer! You must inform me, my dear, what it is that you see in those dreams, what it is that happens to the people you know, the ones you love and the ones you hate... tell me all, Davies..."
No! No! This was... Roger's face contorted and he quickly grabbed his belongings, practically dashing to the exit. "Nothing! I see nothing!" He all but sprang out of the room, and slammed the door behind him.
"Never be afraid of your Sight, Davies! It will be a guide and solace to you, to help you all your life!" he heard her voice, drifting from inside the classroom, soft and misty as usual, but somehow feeling as though it was forcibly and painfully drilling a hole in his head.
***
The months flew by, and the pattern of studying for O.W.L.s and making Prefect rounds was so comforting, Cho hardly ever let herself think about Roger and any other thing Roger-related except at night. At night she dreamed, vividly. Always scenes of her and Roger together, sometimes times past and sometimes what looked like the future. She would be happy, and then the dream would change, and become either indescribably frightening or tearjerkingly sad. Then she would wake up and, fighting back tears, open a book and study so that she wouldn't have to think at all, except about how many unicorn tail hairs to mix with how many fireflowers to cure rheumatism and how many nations of Merfolk there were in the Pacific Ocean.
Then she would get up, shower, and go to class in a daze. Even Melissa and Cassandra knew better than to bother her. Cedric was her leaning post. He now knew the password for Ravenclaw, for he had carried her up to bed when she had succumbed to exhaustion in the Great Hall and later the library. The first time, he had left her a teasing note saying that she looked ravishing covered with mashed potatoes (she had fallen asleep in her plate). The second time he didn't leave anything, but looked very worried.
On the warm, balmy June night before the Final Task, Cedric's owl tapped the windowpane, and Cho raised her hand to let it in, engrossed as she was in Ruslan and Lyudmila, which Calista had handed her and told to read, saying she studied too much and relaxed too little.
She didn't have to even read the note asking for an Astronomy Tower meeting, she simply stood, set the book down, making her place with a tissue paper bookmark, and headed out the portrait hole, down the hall, and up the stairs, a notebook tucked under her arm and thinking that perhaps she would get some studying for Astronomy done afterwards, since she was going in the first place.
Cedric stood in the Tower, his hands clasped behind his back, his head raised to the stars. She came in softly, but he heard her. "You know, I wonder, did the Founders stand up here and look at the stars? What was it they saw? And a thousand years later, when new children have come to Hogwarts and they stand here and look up, what will they see?"
Cho smiled slightly and stood by his side, raising her eyes as well and beginning to name constellations in her mind. "You're in a philosophical mood tonight," she remarked. "Almost melancholy."
Cedric shrugged. "Perhaps."
"So, what is it that you wanted to talk to me about, Ced? Have you found out anything new about the Final Task?" Cho asked. Cedric shook his head.
"No, I don't want to talk about that. But there's something that's far more important, something that I've noticed going on for far too long..."
"What could be more important than the Final Task right now?" Cho asked him, a perplexed expression on her face.
Cedric turned to her, remaining silent for a few seconds, gazing into her eyes as if probing her psyche. Finally, just as she was about to squirm under his scrutiny, he spoke.
"Well, for starters, my best friend, and the fact that she's been heartbroken for nearly two years. I've been watching you, Cho, and this just can't go on."
"W-what can't go on?" Cho said weakly. She had a good idea of what he was talking about, but...
"You go through the motions of life. You go to your classes, do your Prefect rounds, smile at everyone without seeing anyone. Except for him, and everything that surrounds him. You can't go on like this. To the rest of the world, you might seem like you're just fine, but I know better."
Cho's jaw tightened, "That's... my business. And... there's nothing... anyone can do... about it."
Cedric gave her a wry smile. And then, out of the blue, he uttered something that caused Cho to nearly choke with surprise. "He loves you, you know."
"W-what?!"
"Roger. The very same boy who used to pull your hair. The one who went into conniptions when you got hurt on the Quidditch pitch. He loves you. Always has."
Cho's eyes widened, and she felt herself involuntarily backing away, "B-but..."
But Cedric continued, his eyes still fixed upon her rapidly whitening face, "And you love him, too."
Cho felt the cold stone wall behind her back. She had nowhere left to go, and at the moment, she also did not have anything to say. All she could do was stare at her friend, who was looking at her in an affectionate, somewhat sad way. She shook her head numbly.
Cedric grinned wryly, "For a Ravenclaw, you can be really dense sometimes, Cho Chang. Think about it: he's so very protective of you. He looks at me like he'd love nothing more than to hex me from here to Italy. But he never used to, until it seemed like I was taking you away from him. He goes to the Yule Ball with Fleur Delacour, only to watch you all night, and not pay any attention to what she's saying. He can't stand to see us together, because he would want nothing more than to be in my place, or what he fancies is my place."
Cho felt her cheeks start to burn, and Cedric went on, now looking at her like one might look at a favorite, if somewhat stubborn and silly little sister, "And you... I still have your letter to me last summer, when you had cut off your hair," he dug into the pocket of his robe, and extracted a rather crinkled sheet of parchment. Unfolding it, he read a small excerpt aloud, "'And as much as I hate to admit it, it hurts... it hurts to be invisible to your oldest friend... it hurts that his mates all give me strange looks... it hurts when after Quidditch practices, he goes straight up to the boys' dormitory instead of chatting with me. How could he do that, when I still don't know what unforgivable thing I did to incite this behavior? So now, my hair is short... take that, Roger!' Now... would you have cut off your hair for no other reason than spite, if you weren't trying to hurt him as much as he had hurt you? And for him to have hurt you that much... don't you think that you must love him?"
Finally, Cho managed to choke out a short sentence. "He... is a prat..."
Cedric chuckled, "Be that as it may, you love him anyway. Or else... why would you still let him upset you? Many people are prats. I've never seen you shed tears over Marcus Flint, now... and don't tell me that that was not the biggest prat on this side of Britain."
A weak, somewhat despairing chuckle escaped Cho's lips, "Well... I... Roger, he... Fleur..."
"Cho, there's nothing more between Roger and Fleur than between you and me. They're mere friends, if that. Now... promise me that you'll think about this, and sort it out. I don't want to see my best friend hurt any longer." Done saying what he had to say, Cedric strode forward, and dropped a warm, brotherly kiss on her forehead. He gave her a hug, and wished her good night before walking out of the Astronomy Tower.
That was the last time that Cho saw Cedric alive.