FIC: A Shoulder to Cry On (Cho/Angelina)

Nov 17, 2016 07:00

Title: A Shoulder to Cry On
Author/Artist: ladonnaerrante
Characters: Cho Chang/Angelina Johnson
Prompt number: 93
Word Count: ~2400
Rating: PG 13
Warnings: minor character death
Summary: Sometimes, you just need a shoulder to cry on: Five times Cho and Angelina comforted each other.
Disclaimer: Not Mine!
Author’s Notes: A big thanks to my Beta N.


1.
Angelina’s bladder was nearly bursting, so just before potions she popped into Moaning Myrtle’s toilet. Relief coursed through her as she sank down on one of the cubicles and let out the breath she’d been holding. It was only then that she heard someone sniffling. The muffled sobs didn’t sound anything like Myrtle’s echoing wails. She listened carefully, but couldn’t figure out who it was. Once she had flushed, and washed and dried her hands, she knocked gently on the other cubicle.

“Alright in there?”

She heard a sharp intake of breath. “Don’t worry. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Angelina was met with more silence, but she waited next to the door for a few moments anyway. Just as she was about to leave the toilet altogether, she heard Myrtle’s high-pitched laugh.

“Did you hear that? She just wants to make sure you’re okay.” Myrtle’s tone was mocking. “I’ve been stuck in this toilet for nearly half a century and no one’s been nearly that nice to me. No one cares about stupid Moaning Myrtle. But when ickle firsties are crying, then they pay attention.”

Angelina turned around to see Myrtle hanging out of the sink spigot. “Bloody hell, Myrtle. You’re not helping.” Then she heard a faint click as the lock on the cubicle was unchained and its door began to open slowly. Standing before her was one of the first-year students, her eyes red and puffy from crying and her straight black hair terribly mussed.

“I’m Angelina, but you can call me Angie”

The girl swallowed. “Cho.”

“Was it Professor Snape?”

Cho nodded mutely, a couple of tears running down a cheek.

“He’s always a bit of a bear, especially at the beginning of the year. You’ll get used to him. Which house are you in?”

“Ravenclaw.” Cho’s voice was a little stronger this time.

Angelina smiled, “You’ll get the hang of it in no time! And if you run into problems, you can always talk to me, though I prefer flying to Potions myself.”

“Thanks,” Cho said, the edges of her mouth turning up in the promise of a smile, as she made her way to the sink and washed her face. “You support the Harpies?”

“Did Merlin have a long white beard?”

Cho’s eyes lit up. “Me too! Gwenog Jones is soooo cool!” Angelina held out her hand and Cho gave her a hi-five.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime,” Angelina answered and smiled to herself as she entered the potions classroom, ready to face Snape.

2.
The sun was high in the sky on what had been a lazy spring Saturday and Cho made her way down to the pitch slowly, soaking in the warmth. The Gryffindor-Ravenclaw match was only a few weeks away, and Gryffindor had the pitch in the morning for practice and Ravenclaw in the afternoon. Cho had eaten lunch quickly, in hopes of getting a few minutes of leisurely flying in before practice began. She entered the girls changing room and began to get her kit off, when she heard a flush from the toilets and the sound of water running. Angelina came out, still in her practice kit. Her hair was damp with sweat and her curls hung limply around her face, tired and worn. Cho offered her a small smile.

“Difficult practice?”

Angelina slammed the door of her locker. “What do you think?!”

Cho raised an eyebrow. She knew they were supposed to be competitors, but Angelina had spent hours on the pitch with her over first weeks of school, helping her prepare for trials. Cho didn’t think she’d have made the cut without Johnson’s help. Cho didn’t want to start a row so she turned around and went back to changing. She could feel Angelina’s eyes on her back, but there was another long silence, and Angelina didn’t speak until Cho had finished getting her kit on.

Angelina rubbed at the tiled floor with the tip of one of her trainers. “Sorry, that was rude. It’s just so bloody frustrating. Oliver is so dense sometimes.”

“What’d he say this time?”

“Just that if I always play the way I did I’d be a credit to my sex.”

Cho’s eyes went wide. “Are you kidding me?” She felt her face flame with anger.

Angelina rolled her eyes. “I know, right? But I shouldn’t let it bother me. He meant it as a compliment.” She didn’t sound very convinced.

“Who cares? That’s still messed up. You’ve got every right to be angry about it.”

Angelina laughed a little. “I guess.”

“Look, I’m going for a fly before practice starts. The sun is out, the birds are singing. Come with me, it’ll be fun.”

Cho put on her best baby-crup face, her dark eyes going wide and her bottom lip jutting out. Angie let out a genuine chuckle.

“Just don’t tell Wood I was fraternizing with the enemy.”

Together they walked to the broom shed, gathering their brooms and mounting. Cho kicked off first, riding high into the blue sky; Angelina followed behind her. The wind was cool on Cho’s face and the sun warm at her back. Higher and higher they climbed, before she heard Angie’s voice, the wind whipping away the words.

“WHAT?” Cho shouted. Angie pulled up next to her.

“I said let’s race! On your mark, get set, go!” They were off.

3.
Early morning light filtered through the Great Hall, and the subdued sounds of grief surrounded Cho as she picked her way through the crowd, stepping over bits of splintered benches and crumbling stones. Frantically she scanned the crowd, heart pounding in her chest. She had lost track of Angie after Hagrid brought Harry’s body back and she didn’t see her anywhere. Most of the bodies were obscured by groups of mourners surrounding them-the Weasley clan was in one corner, and the Creeveys cried quietly nearby. She took a few shaky breaths and tried telling herself to calm down, but as she moved through the room fear coursed through her and her stomach twisted in knots.

Cho slipped once, and then as she tried to regain her balance, a foot caught on a fallen suit of armor, and she flew forward, hitting the ground hard. Her world narrowed to the floor in front of her, dirty and strewn with debris; but still she thought only of finding Angie. The fall had knocked the wind out of her and her chest ached dully as she panted. Her head was throbbing and she felt dizzy, but she tried to push herself up anyways. Splinters and bits of rock dug into her hands, and there was a sharp pain on her knee.

Then there was a large hand on her arm, pulling her up easily and moving her to sit on one of the benches that was still intact.

“Yeh a’right there Cho?” Hagrid’s voice was warm and concerned.

She swallowed and nodded mutely, waiting a moment for the room to stop spinning before she replied. “I tripped. That’s all.”

“Looked like yeh were in a bit of a rush? You tryna find someone?

“Angelina. Have you seen her?” Cho heard the note of desperation in her voice and felt her eyes fill with tears.

“I saw her down by the lake when I went out to see to the thestrals. Probably just needed some air.”

Cho felt a wave of relief wash over her, her breathing slowing even though her head still pounded.

“Thanks, Hagrid.” She stood up and made her way out of the hall, quickly and cautiously.

The sun was just beginning to melt away the morning chill and the birds were chirping as Cho made her way down to the lake. She saw Angelina from a distance, a slight figure against the vast lake and looming mountains. Cho approached her quietly; Angelina turned when she heard her. The sun lit up the warm copper undertones of her skin and there was wonder in her eyes as they met Cho’s own. The stood in silence for a long moment, allowing the tears to stream down their faces, taking deep breaths and letting the beauty of the morning soak into their bones. Then Angelina wrapped an arm around Cho’s shoulders, pulling her close and Cho held on.

Cho pulled her down to sit in the grass. She felt Angelina brush a long finger through Cho’s dark hair and trace a line down her cheek.

“I missed you.” Cho’s voice was soft.

“Me too.” Angelina tipped Cho’s chin towards her and asked, “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” It was more a breath than a word, and suddenly Angelina’s lips were on hers.

4.
Angelina stood frozen in the kitchen of the small flat she and Cho shared off of Diagon Alley. The wooden spoon she’d been holding fell to the floor with a clatter. Her whole body felt numb; it couldn’t be true.

Cho poked her head around the corner, hair still wet and stringy from her after-practice shower. “Everything okay, love?” Cho took in Angelina’s pale face and shaking hands.

“Nana died.” Angelina heard the words but it felt as if someone else had spoken them.

“Come sit down.” Cho’s hands were on her shoulders and she found herself gently led to the sofa and pushed down onto its soft cushions. Angelina watched as Cho waved her wand at the kettle and pulled tea and mugs down from the cupboard, but she felt far away and senseless.

A hot mug was placed in her hand. “Drink.” Cho’s tone was firm, and Angelina took a sip automatically. The fragrant, milky chai they always drank warmed her, clearing her head, and the world slid back into focus.

Cho sat next her, one hand on hers. Angelina took a few more sips of tea, letting the spice and warmth wash over her. Cho wouldn’t press her to talk, she was sure of that. Cho gave her space when she needed it; when the world closed in on her and she just needed to be on her broomstick in the open air, Cho would just let her go into the wind and trust she was coming back. But she could see Cho’s eyes bright with worry and the knot that had formed in the pit of her stomach wouldn’t release itself. Nana at least had taught her that much. The thought brought tears to her eyes, and she closed them briefly, letting a few drops run down her cheek. Then she felt Cho’s hand warm and soft, wiping them away.

“No more oxtail soup and black pudding for Sunday dinner…” Angelina opened her eyes, letting the tears spill out. “You know, she came here by herself when she was only sixteen. Scrubbed bed pans and washed sheets at St. Mungo’s to put food on the table for fifty years. She never understood why I wanted to play quidditch, after all she sacrificed so I could go to Hogwarts.”

Cho squeezed her hand, “She was proud of you, though.”

Angelina felt a laugh bubble up from her belly and escape her mouth. “She did always go on about how if she couldn’t have a granddaughter who was a healer, at least she had one who set the season scoring record in the British league three years in a row…”

Cho just put an arm around her and pulled her close. She leant her head on Cho’s chest and let herself cry.

5.
The Artefact Accidents ward at St. Mungo’s was bustling; Angelina, still sweaty from practice, skirted around mediwizards and floating trays of instruments and medicine to a room at the end of the hall. Under her breath, she repeated over and over, in time with her pounding heart, “Room 133. Room 133.” As she neared the end of the corridor the numbers began to approach 133. But when she reached the correct door, she froze, stomach in her throat, afraid of what she would find.

It was only Cho’s third week on duty. After a few years of pushing paper at the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee, she had just finished her training in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office. As far as Angie knew, Cho hadn’t been working on a particularly dangerous case. But the owl had arrived just as the team headed for the showers; Angelina’s stomach dropped when she saw the St. Mungo’s seal on the parchment Her hands shook as she read, but it hadn’t given any details. Standing outside the door to Cho’s room, not knowing how bad it was or even what had happened. Angelina took a deep breath, and then another and another. Then, she pushed the door open.

She found Cho, sitting up in bed, looking pale and her face swollen. Scratches and burns dotted her face and arms, and she had bandages around one leg and hands.

“Hey.” Angelina winced as she stepped into the room.

Cho grimaced. “Hi.” Her voice was strained.

“How are you doing?” Angelina made her way over to the bed and conjured a chair, sitting near Cho’s head.

“It hurts. A lot.” Her eyes welled with tears, and Angie placed a hand on her arm, trying to avoid any tender spots, and squeezed gently. Closing her eyes, Cho let the tears run down her cheeks. Angelina’s chest tightened, and she stroked Cho’s hair, letting her fingers card through the tangles, and pressed a very light kiss to her forehead.

“Looks like it. Did they give you a pain potion?”

Cho nodded very slightly, “Hasn’t kicked in yet.” Cho grunted in pain as she shifted to try and face Angie. “But I should be as good as new in a couple days.”

Angelina cringed. “What happened?”

“Cursed tea kettle.”

Angelina felt a bubble of laughter rise in her throat, and tried to stop it coming out, but couldn’t. She chuckled, part exhaustion and part relief. Cho looked at her fondly and let out a laugh, which turned into a groan.

“Sorry,” Angelina said. “I should be more careful.”

“Look at me. First real case on my own and I end up in hospital because of a bloody tea kettle.”

“It’ll get easier.”

“I know,” Cho sighed, “I was really bored sitting at a desk all day. I just didn’t think being in the field would be quite this exciting.”

“Just try not to have too exciting a week right before the wedding, eh?”

Cho grinned, “I’ll see what I can do.” Beaming, Angelina brushed a lock of hair off of Cho’s face and kissed her softly.

.femmeslash, *2016 fest, p: angelina/cho, a: ladonnaerrante, *fic

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