Oy vey.
Twas the day before Christmas,
And all through the house-
I gave in to the rampant plot bunnies.
Oh oh oh.
My fist stab at Cedric/Cho
Relationship
By Convolution
One
“Chang!” He calls out, breathing heavily. There is a pause when he thinks, for a split second, that she won’t stop. But after a few more steps, she does. Thank god. He exhales, shakily.
“What?” She says, her back to him. Little imp.
“Hold on, all right?” He walks up to her briskly. “What’s the rush?”
She turns a fraction of an inch, revealing only a glimpse of her profile. She doesn’t even spare him a glance. “Well, besides the fact that curfew is in ten minutes, I’m also rather upset about having just lost again to Slytherin, so I’d like to go wallow my sorrow, alone. That is all.”
“Ahhh. Right. Right. Absolutely.” He replies, sheepishly. Stupidly, he adds-“I still love you.” I love you even when you’re stupid and a bitch and you go all crazy apeshit…
She cocks a brow and does another quarter-turn. Almost facing him. Almost. “Cedric, I’m being a royal bitch right now. You probably don’t want to declare your undying love for me right at this moment.”
“Chang,” He begins. He takes a step towards her. She turns a little more. “You could be spitting fireballs and I’d still profess how ardently I love and adore you. So please, let me walk you to your dorm.”
“Always a gentleman.” She says, sounding bored. “Fine.”
He studies her for a moment, wondering what the flying fuck it is about her that makes him put up with her incessant verbal abuse.
Ah, yes.
“Well, aren’t you going to sweep me off my feet, magically produce roses, start singing a passionate love song- something? Let’s pick up the pace, Diggory.”
He knows why he loves her, still. Even when she’s fucking psychotic. He was quiet as a child, and is still reticent and reserved as a man. Cho Chang, on the other hand, curses like a sailor and would probably then even put the sailors to shame. Because she’d out-curse them, or something. A real potty mouth, this one, he thinks. No two moments with her are ever the same. That’s why.
He smirks a little, walks up to her. She taps her foot impatiently. When he nears, he brings his face close to hers and takes in the scent of her hair, her skin. There’s that girly scent she always has (he doesn’t know what else to call it), girly flowers and candy and perfume, whatever- but slightly damp and earthy over that is the smell of the grass and mud, marks of her violent game of Quidditch just hours before. Slytherin is fucking brutal on the field.
For all her sass, she takes his hand in hers. However, she's never one for convention, and takes the lead, sauntering along the way to her dorm, not even giving him a chance to properly kiss her, or something. What kind of relationship is this? As if on cue, (or did he say that last question aloud?) she says (tenaciously) “You know Cedric, I think I’m the one wearing the pants in this relationship.”
He can’t see her lips moving, but he relishes in the cuts and dips of her accent. “Chang, that’s what I let you think.”
“Well-”
He cuts her off by dragging her into a kiss. It’s typical cat-and-mouse. She’s reluctant at first, pissed by his last comment, but he slides his tongue into her mouth and lets his teeth worry at her lower lip and finally, finally, finally… she shuts up. And lets him have his way with her. Thank fucking god.
Her hands move to his hair and tug, almost painfully. All right, very painfully. He grabs her wrists and pulls her hands from his hair, holds them tight, never missing a beat. Her lips try to cut off the onslaught of his tongue, but he relentless. It has been too long since he’s kissed her like this. He is desperate.
He wonders if Chang ever feels this sort of need for him. A few minutes without her and suddenly he misses her acerbic little mouth and the hot glare of her gaze. Does she ever miss him?
He pulls away, finally, breathing deeply. Her cheeks are red in the dim light, her eyes so dark he cannot tell where her pupils begin.
“Nice one, Diggory. Didn’t know you had it in you!” She finally says, eyes glinting. She puts an arm around his waist, pulls him close. He buries his nose in her hair and rubs her shoulder.
“And,” He growls. “We are officially out past curfew. Aren’t you appreciative now of the fact that you’re dating a prefect?”
“Oh yes. Very.” Oh fuck. She’s doing that sucking-on-his-neck thing that always makes him go a bit weak. Very weak.
“Chang…”
They haven’t had sex in all the time they’ve been dating, and he wonders if they’ll ever. She doesn’t seem to have any qualms against teenage intercourse. Right? It’s sort of embarrassing to go to a boarding school where fucking fourth years are shagging right and left, and you’re seventeen years old with a gorgeous girlfriend and you haven’t shagged. Ever.
Is Cho a virgin?
He realizes he has never asked her this, but even before he can formulate a polite way to ask (is there any polite way to ask this?), she kisses him again, roughly, and then gives him a cute pat on the bottom and sends him on his way. Somewhere between that last kiss and his tangled thoughts, they’d walked all the way to the Ravenclaw common room. “See you tomorrow!” She says with a wink, slipping past the portrait. He stands next to the portrait for long moments, thinking.
It was definitely not a lie when they said that little wizards think about sex every 5, no, 4 minutes. Seconds.
He wants to have sex with Cho Chang.
Hands in his pockets, he walks towards the Hufflepuff dormitories, licking his lips.
He and Cho had begun their rather bizarre and tumultuous relationship towards the end of his 5th year. He remembered asking her out for the first time. Aha. What a joke. He’d fumbled over every word while she waited, patiently, for him to say, “DoyouwannagotoHosmeadewithme?”
“Sure!” She’d said, an answer bright like copper.
Later that week, at Hogsmeade, it had been she who suggested they have a few butterbeers and get to know one another better.
It was she who’d pushed him into an alley and given him his first kiss, too. It had been sloppy and artless, yes, but very real. He’d felt like his mouth was burning for hours afterwards. Like when you eat something really spicy, and no amount of water can quench the burn.
Three weeks into their relationship, no one other than Professor Snape had caught them necking in an alcove. Cedric still blushes at that memory. “Good god,” Snape had groaned, upon finding them. “I had thought you two were the better of the lot.”
Now it is his seventh year, and what a year it is. The Tri-Wizard Tournament is like a faraway, elusive dream to him. Tomorrow, Dumbledore will allow submissions of names to the Goblet to be considered for the tournament. His father has already owled him, Do it do it do it do it…Cedric’s head hurts. He will make the decision tomorrow. Tomorrow.
Walking from Professor Sprout’s class, he spots Chang sitting on a bench in the courtyard. She’s by herself, Ravenclaw blue scarf coiled lazily around her neck. A book is open in her lap, but her gaze is focused somewhere far away.
“Hey, you.” He says in greeting, coming up behind her. She looks up at him, eyes wide beneath dark lashes.
“Hello.” She says, simply, scooting over for him. He sits down. “Tired?” She asks. He isn’t sure if she’s teasing or not. He can never tell.
“Exhausted,” He replies. “Terribly fatigued. Wiped out. Tired. Can barely keep my eyes open. You?”
“Just fine. Right as rain.” She rests her head on his shoulder. It is a simple act of boyfriend/girlfriendness, but it touches him. She rarely shows much public affection for him.
“Good,” He says. “Good.” Their fingers meet and take hold.
“Are you going to enter the Tournament?” She asks, suddenly. He drops her hand. Picks it up again.
“No.” He says at first. “I mean, yes. I mean, I don’t know. I really don’t know.”
Again, more surprises. She wraps her arms around him and hugs him, lips lightly grazing his ear. “Does your father want you too?”
“Yes.” He replies. He smoothes the black lines of her hair, breathing her in. She starts saying something again, but he can’t focus on it because Harry Potter (he knows that particular fourth year because fuck, who wouldn’t?) is staring intently at him. Their eyes meet. He doesn’t know if he should acknowledge him or not, so he just blinks a bit stupidly like a fish and Potter finally looks away first. Weird moment, there. Cedric tightens his grip on Cho’s hair.
“Are you listening?” Cho asks, impatient again.
“Mhmm.” He says quickly, turning his attention back to her. Her eyebrows furrow, but she remains silent.
“You’ll do fine,” She says, off-handedly. “Anyways, got to run. See you at dinner!” Without rhyme or reason she jumps up and disappears. He sits on the bench for a long time, lost in thoughts again.
When he finally approaches the Goblet, the whole room is watching. It makes him a tad nervous, but he refuses to show weakness in the spotlight. He had Cho write his name for him. She has a neat, loopy script. When the goblet accepts his name, a cheer goes around the room, and his peers clap him on the back, Gooooo Diggory!
After it’s done and over with, he hurriedly goes out to the Quidditch pitch, where Cho is waiting. She’s holding two brooms. “Well?” She asks, handing him his broom. He takes his, and then knocks the other one out of her hand.
“Get on,” He says, gesturing to his own broom. She quirks a brow, her silent what the fuck? and then gets on with a shrug. When they’re sufficiently high enough, he does a few silly twists and turns, forcing Cho grab his waist tightly. “Of course I did it.” He finally says, when they land.
“Took you long enough to say it,” She replies. “Congratulations, you’re halfway there, at least.”
He nods. “Wouldn’t it be crazy if I make it?”
“No, not really.”
The night he discovers that he was chosen as Hogwarts’ champion (along with, of course, the boy hero Potter), Chang comes to his bedroom (no idea how she got past the portrait) and they have sex. Make love. Have intercourse. What the fuck. What do you call it? Fucking is so harsh and making love is so stupid sounding. He settles for, ‘have sex.’
Years of Quidditch have done both of them good.
Her body snaps into his, a perfect puzzle piece…
She bites his neck, leaves a mark, he places one massive red blotch on each of her thighs so she can’t forget he was there. He wants to spell CEDRIC in red marks all over her back, but resists, spells out only a small ‘C’.
He holds her tight when they’re done, won’t let her leave. She fidgets at first, but in the end, she stays for long hours. They go at it a few more times. It gets better. He learns she likes it fast, and hard, and has little patience for slowness. She prefers the foreplay to the actual sex, she doesn’t mind a little pain, she likes touching his chest- weird kink? He thinks every part of her is delicious.
**** I'd rate it.. probably strong R. Rather different characterizations of Cedric and Cho. Not saying that I don't think they're wonderfully nice and kind people... but I just wanted to explore a different, possibly darker dimension of their characters... And the plot bunny just nailed me.
****
This picture makes me swoon.
And all through the house-
I gave in to the rampant plot bunnies.
Oh oh oh.
My fist stab at Cedric/Cho
Relationship
By Convolution
One
“Chang!” He calls out, breathing heavily. There is a pause when he thinks, for a split second, that she won’t stop. But after a few more steps, she does. Thank god. He exhales, shakily.
“What?” She says, her back to him. Little imp.
“Hold on, all right?” He walks up to her briskly. “What’s the rush?”
She turns a fraction of an inch, revealing only a glimpse of her profile. She doesn’t even spare him a glance. “Well, besides the fact that curfew is in ten minutes, I’m also rather upset about having just lost again to Slytherin, so I’d like to go wallow my sorrow, alone. That is all.”
“Ahhh. Right. Right. Absolutely.” He replies, sheepishly. Stupidly, he adds-“I still love you.” I love you even when you’re stupid and a bitch and you go all crazy apeshit…
She cocks a brow and does another quarter-turn. Almost facing him. Almost. “Cedric, I’m being a royal bitch right now. You probably don’t want to declare your undying love for me right at this moment.”
“Chang,” He begins. He takes a step towards her. She turns a little more. “You could be spitting fireballs and I’d still profess how ardently I love and adore you. So please, let me walk you to your dorm.”
“Always a gentleman.” She says, sounding bored. “Fine.”
He studies her for a moment, wondering what the flying fuck it is about her that makes him put up with her incessant verbal abuse.
Ah, yes.
“Well, aren’t you going to sweep me off my feet, magically produce roses, start singing a passionate love song- something? Let’s pick up the pace, Diggory.”
He knows why he loves her, still. Even when she’s fucking psychotic. He was quiet as a child, and is still reticent and reserved as a man. Cho Chang, on the other hand, curses like a sailor and would probably then even put the sailors to shame. Because she’d out-curse them, or something. A real potty mouth, this one, he thinks. No two moments with her are ever the same. That’s why.
He smirks a little, walks up to her. She taps her foot impatiently. When he nears, he brings his face close to hers and takes in the scent of her hair, her skin. There’s that girly scent she always has (he doesn’t know what else to call it), girly flowers and candy and perfume, whatever- but slightly damp and earthy over that is the smell of the grass and mud, marks of her violent game of Quidditch just hours before. Slytherin is fucking brutal on the field.
For all her sass, she takes his hand in hers. However, she's never one for convention, and takes the lead, sauntering along the way to her dorm, not even giving him a chance to properly kiss her, or something. What kind of relationship is this? As if on cue, (or did he say that last question aloud?) she says (tenaciously) “You know Cedric, I think I’m the one wearing the pants in this relationship.”
He can’t see her lips moving, but he relishes in the cuts and dips of her accent. “Chang, that’s what I let you think.”
“Well-”
He cuts her off by dragging her into a kiss. It’s typical cat-and-mouse. She’s reluctant at first, pissed by his last comment, but he slides his tongue into her mouth and lets his teeth worry at her lower lip and finally, finally, finally… she shuts up. And lets him have his way with her. Thank fucking god.
Her hands move to his hair and tug, almost painfully. All right, very painfully. He grabs her wrists and pulls her hands from his hair, holds them tight, never missing a beat. Her lips try to cut off the onslaught of his tongue, but he relentless. It has been too long since he’s kissed her like this. He is desperate.
He wonders if Chang ever feels this sort of need for him. A few minutes without her and suddenly he misses her acerbic little mouth and the hot glare of her gaze. Does she ever miss him?
He pulls away, finally, breathing deeply. Her cheeks are red in the dim light, her eyes so dark he cannot tell where her pupils begin.
“Nice one, Diggory. Didn’t know you had it in you!” She finally says, eyes glinting. She puts an arm around his waist, pulls him close. He buries his nose in her hair and rubs her shoulder.
“And,” He growls. “We are officially out past curfew. Aren’t you appreciative now of the fact that you’re dating a prefect?”
“Oh yes. Very.” Oh fuck. She’s doing that sucking-on-his-neck thing that always makes him go a bit weak. Very weak.
“Chang…”
They haven’t had sex in all the time they’ve been dating, and he wonders if they’ll ever. She doesn’t seem to have any qualms against teenage intercourse. Right? It’s sort of embarrassing to go to a boarding school where fucking fourth years are shagging right and left, and you’re seventeen years old with a gorgeous girlfriend and you haven’t shagged. Ever.
Is Cho a virgin?
He realizes he has never asked her this, but even before he can formulate a polite way to ask (is there any polite way to ask this?), she kisses him again, roughly, and then gives him a cute pat on the bottom and sends him on his way. Somewhere between that last kiss and his tangled thoughts, they’d walked all the way to the Ravenclaw common room. “See you tomorrow!” She says with a wink, slipping past the portrait. He stands next to the portrait for long moments, thinking.
It was definitely not a lie when they said that little wizards think about sex every 5, no, 4 minutes. Seconds.
He wants to have sex with Cho Chang.
Hands in his pockets, he walks towards the Hufflepuff dormitories, licking his lips.
He and Cho had begun their rather bizarre and tumultuous relationship towards the end of his 5th year. He remembered asking her out for the first time. Aha. What a joke. He’d fumbled over every word while she waited, patiently, for him to say, “DoyouwannagotoHosmeadewithme?”
“Sure!” She’d said, an answer bright like copper.
Later that week, at Hogsmeade, it had been she who suggested they have a few butterbeers and get to know one another better.
It was she who’d pushed him into an alley and given him his first kiss, too. It had been sloppy and artless, yes, but very real. He’d felt like his mouth was burning for hours afterwards. Like when you eat something really spicy, and no amount of water can quench the burn.
Three weeks into their relationship, no one other than Professor Snape had caught them necking in an alcove. Cedric still blushes at that memory. “Good god,” Snape had groaned, upon finding them. “I had thought you two were the better of the lot.”
Now it is his seventh year, and what a year it is. The Tri-Wizard Tournament is like a faraway, elusive dream to him. Tomorrow, Dumbledore will allow submissions of names to the Goblet to be considered for the tournament. His father has already owled him, Do it do it do it do it…Cedric’s head hurts. He will make the decision tomorrow. Tomorrow.
Walking from Professor Sprout’s class, he spots Chang sitting on a bench in the courtyard. She’s by herself, Ravenclaw blue scarf coiled lazily around her neck. A book is open in her lap, but her gaze is focused somewhere far away.
“Hey, you.” He says in greeting, coming up behind her. She looks up at him, eyes wide beneath dark lashes.
“Hello.” She says, simply, scooting over for him. He sits down. “Tired?” She asks. He isn’t sure if she’s teasing or not. He can never tell.
“Exhausted,” He replies. “Terribly fatigued. Wiped out. Tired. Can barely keep my eyes open. You?”
“Just fine. Right as rain.” She rests her head on his shoulder. It is a simple act of boyfriend/girlfriendness, but it touches him. She rarely shows much public affection for him.
“Good,” He says. “Good.” Their fingers meet and take hold.
“Are you going to enter the Tournament?” She asks, suddenly. He drops her hand. Picks it up again.
“No.” He says at first. “I mean, yes. I mean, I don’t know. I really don’t know.”
Again, more surprises. She wraps her arms around him and hugs him, lips lightly grazing his ear. “Does your father want you too?”
“Yes.” He replies. He smoothes the black lines of her hair, breathing her in. She starts saying something again, but he can’t focus on it because Harry Potter (he knows that particular fourth year because fuck, who wouldn’t?) is staring intently at him. Their eyes meet. He doesn’t know if he should acknowledge him or not, so he just blinks a bit stupidly like a fish and Potter finally looks away first. Weird moment, there. Cedric tightens his grip on Cho’s hair.
“Are you listening?” Cho asks, impatient again.
“Mhmm.” He says quickly, turning his attention back to her. Her eyebrows furrow, but she remains silent.
“You’ll do fine,” She says, off-handedly. “Anyways, got to run. See you at dinner!” Without rhyme or reason she jumps up and disappears. He sits on the bench for a long time, lost in thoughts again.
When he finally approaches the Goblet, the whole room is watching. It makes him a tad nervous, but he refuses to show weakness in the spotlight. He had Cho write his name for him. She has a neat, loopy script. When the goblet accepts his name, a cheer goes around the room, and his peers clap him on the back, Gooooo Diggory!
After it’s done and over with, he hurriedly goes out to the Quidditch pitch, where Cho is waiting. She’s holding two brooms. “Well?” She asks, handing him his broom. He takes his, and then knocks the other one out of her hand.
“Get on,” He says, gesturing to his own broom. She quirks a brow, her silent what the fuck? and then gets on with a shrug. When they’re sufficiently high enough, he does a few silly twists and turns, forcing Cho grab his waist tightly. “Of course I did it.” He finally says, when they land.
“Took you long enough to say it,” She replies. “Congratulations, you’re halfway there, at least.”
He nods. “Wouldn’t it be crazy if I make it?”
“No, not really.”
The night he discovers that he was chosen as Hogwarts’ champion (along with, of course, the boy hero Potter), Chang comes to his bedroom (no idea how she got past the portrait) and they have sex. Make love. Have intercourse. What the fuck. What do you call it? Fucking is so harsh and making love is so stupid sounding. He settles for, ‘have sex.’
Years of Quidditch have done both of them good.
Her body snaps into his, a perfect puzzle piece…
She bites his neck, leaves a mark, he places one massive red blotch on each of her thighs so she can’t forget he was there. He wants to spell CEDRIC in red marks all over her back, but resists, spells out only a small ‘C’.
He holds her tight when they’re done, won’t let her leave. She fidgets at first, but in the end, she stays for long hours. They go at it a few more times. It gets better. He learns she likes it fast, and hard, and has little patience for slowness. She prefers the foreplay to the actual sex, she doesn’t mind a little pain, she likes touching his chest- weird kink? He thinks every part of her is delicious.
**** I'd rate it.. probably strong R. Rather different characterizations of Cedric and Cho. Not saying that I don't think they're wonderfully nice and kind people... but I just wanted to explore a different, possibly darker dimension of their characters... And the plot bunny just nailed me.
****
This picture makes me swoon.