Credit goes to Ama.

Everything about the scene was wrong.

His hair was too dark, and too messy. His eyes were not light enough, matching more the color of a jungle, instead of the gray that coloured the clouds before a storm. He was not nearly as tall, too, and the emerald green eyes on Harry Potter’s slender face were missing the normal twinkle that was a perpetual part of the gray ones she craved to see.

In all fairness, though, it was hardly his fault, for after all, no one had forced her here. In all fairness, she’d been thrilled about the entire ordeal only mere minutes ago. But it was this place, and the aura of love and happiness and all the memories that came with it; memories so sharp that they produced a sensation in the pit of her stomach that Cho Chang could only guess was not unlike to the feeling of having the Cruciatus curse set on you by one of those death eaters that had not long ago, escaped the confines of Azkaban.

She looked at the boy with the lightning bolt scar on his forehead, and felt the wetness of a tear roll down her freckled cheek.


Song credit: Cornestone, by the Arctic Monkeys.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything. The Harry Potter universe belongs to JKR and I'm just here using it as my playground.

Cedric Diggory had spent his day pacing around the common room. When his mood was beginning to border the line of being foul, the boy took himself to the dormitory, and resumed his pacing there, the floor softly creaking beneath him, a frown crumpling his usually smooth forehead.

It didn’t take long for the boy’s mind to drift to the last time he’d spoken to her. Vividly, he remembered the tone of her voice, the broken speech, the frown on her forehead, and the dissatisfied look on her brown eyes.

Legs uncharacteristically feeling as though they were made of jelly, the sixth year dragged himself down the stairs, and out of the common room. Suddenly recovering some of his courage, Cedric began to run. He ran as fast as his long legs could allow him, until he felt his sides ached, until his legs demanded him to stop.

His plan had been to wait for her outside her common room, but he caught up with her in the corridor of the sixth floor. When he did, he encircled his long hand around her slender wrist, drawing her attention to him.

Out of breath, he wheezed out. “I love you, Cho.”

“Harry Potter asked me to the Yule Ball today.”

His head snaps up, a small frown creases his forehead, and I resist the urge to smile. The look on my face must have given my thoughts away, for he smiles a small smile at me, barely a twitch of his mouth.

“And?” He asks, dipping the tip of his quill on the inkwell and resuming working on his homework; it’s not due for another two weeks and a half and is currently receiving more attention than yours truly.

“I said no,” I answer back, cattily “I barely know the boy.”

“Didn’t stop you from going to Hogsmeade with me, last year,” His mouth curls up into a smug smile, and my stomach drops.

I stick my nose in the air. “He is younger than me.”

He leans back on his chair, cocks his head to one side and my stomach vanishes. “Only a year.” When I don’t answer, he leans forward, blinking. A curious look flits across the gray eyes I love so. “You like me.”

Yes, yes, yes. I point my wand at him and say “Langlock!”

Knowingly, he smiles and deflects the jinx.

"Don't flatter yourself, Cedric Diggory."

Cedric has never been this thankful for the cold breeze that comes with February. Were it not for this, perhaps the flush on his cheeks could not be passed as anything else but sheer embarrassment and nerves—which is exactly the case, but that’s beyond the point.

Thump, thump, thump goes his heart.

The tall boy stretches on his tip toes, trying to catch a glimpse of the familiar mane of dark hair among the sea of students. With some annoyance, he comes to the conclusion that there are far too many brunettes in sight; it is impossible for him to spot her.

But then, no hair is quite like hers, is it?

Now he sounded like a romantic fool.

Thump, thump, thump.

It’s obnoxious, and to his ears, the beating inside his chest cavity is unnecessarily loud. Roughly, he rubs a gloved fist against his chest.

Thump, thump, thump.

Is it possible for sonorous to magnify the sound of one’s heart? He swears the looks a few girls have thrown at him are of the mocking sort.

“Cedric!” A familiar feminine voice calls from behind him, and he blushes beet red.

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP.

What is wrong with him?

My heart is beating loudly against my chest, and I wonder if someone has cast sonorus on it. Is it even possible? Don’t be foolish, Cho, I tell myself as I force my way through the crowd gathering near the gates. It’s Hogsmeade weekend, and the usual excitement that comes with it is palpable; giggles and laughter fill the cold air, and not even Marietta, disapproving as she is of my date, seems to be able to come up with an actual reason why I should not spend my day with him.

Some people smile and greet me as they seem me pass by them, and I give them nods and small smiles in return. But then I forget all about them because he’s there, waiting for me.

And suddenly, it’s like someone has cast quietus on my heart. It has slow down to its normal pace, and the nerves are not threatening to eat me from inside out anymore.

This feels right.

“Cedric!” I yell. I see relief cross his face, and there’s a look to his eyes that is so sweet and unexpectedly shy that warmth rushes through me.

Oh, for Rowena's sake. I never stood a chance.

Katie Bell is pretty in a way that you have to look twice at her to notice it; long, her hair is straw-colored, and her eyes are as round as they are dark—dark enough that the contrast against her pale parlor is very striking.

I’ve always liked dark eyes, but that doesn’t make the situation any less awkward.

“I thought you were dating Cho Chang,” She says, shyly.

“I am.”

She says nothing else, but the look she gives before looking down at her menu plainly tells me that she thinks me a bloody Hufflepuff idiot. I look down at my own menu, and consider the situation I could have easily avoided by telling my mother I was in a relationship.

If I had, she wouldn’t have set me up with the ‘nice Gryffindor girl’ she met in Diagon Alley last week. I don’t even like Gryffindors all that much. “Mum doesn’t know I’m dating her.” The rest of my comment is lost, because in that same moment I notice Cho enter the Leaky Cauldron.

If looks alone worked the same way furnunculus does, my skin would be covered in boils right now

Katie looks at me and laughs.

An unmistakable sense of dread was coiling in the bottom of her stomach, and Cho could not help but to silently panic. In less than twenty-four hours Cedric would be facing the final task, and she'd heard that its difficulty would put the dragons from the first task to shame. For some reason her hands had wound themselves around her old, muggle camera and taken it with her; she’d been snapping pictures of everything—Marietta. the grounds. Herself. Cedric.

He stopped talking, and gave her a side-ways look. She snapped a picture of him. A wry smile flirted on his lips. “You’ve not listened to a single word I’ve said.”

She’d been in fact listening, though not completely; Cho had vaguely heard the words ‘Slytherin’ and ‘Twitchy Ears Jinx’ and assumed that some Slytherins had been picking on younger students. Instead of answering, though, Cho lifted her camera, and took another picure.

“You’ve been taking pictures all afternoon,” He murmured. “Of me.”

“Yes.”

Cedric gave her a curious look. “Why?”

When she spoke, Cho didn’t look at him. “Because I want to remember us like this—young and in love.” She tried to smile, “Now shut up and say cheese.”

It was ridiculous how even after Quidditch practice, Cho Chang managed to travel with a pack of giggling girls surrounding her. It was ridiculous enough to make me gape for a split of second, but not enough to have my own brain talk myself out of the entire endeavor.

When the girls with her spotted me, they giggled and whispered between each other. Slowly, they began to drift apart until Cho was left alone to close the distance between us.

“Hi.”

Her tone was cautious but not unfriendly. And her slight Scottish accent coupled with the small crease between her eyebrows drove me a little crazy, “Hello.”

Not usually shy around girls, the tightness around my throat and the flush taking over my cheeks alarmed me a bit, “Look, I know we don’t know each other well, but Valentine’s Day is coming and I was wondering if you’d like to spend it in Hogsmeade with me.” Something in her expression shifted, and before she could say no, I said quickly, “Sounds corny, I know, but—“

She cut me off, “I’d love to.”

I blinked, suddenly feeling as if someone had cast confundus while I wasn’t looking. “Are you serious?”

I can see his lips moving, but I cannot hear a single word. My eyes are locked on his mouth, and I feel guilt well up in my stomach. Treacherous tears begin to roll down my cheeks, and Harry Potter looks torn between running away and closing the distance between us.

He chooses the latter, and my heart gives a jolt—jolt that it’s only followed by guilt twisting my stomach into a tight, uncomfortable knot.

When Harry pats my back, somewhat awkwardly, I think of how Cedric would most likely put his arms around me and rub give me a tight squeeze.

For what it feels like the twentieth time, I feel guilty again, but not enough to stop me from saying, “I really like you, Harry,” because in this moment, right now as I see him look as though someone has stunned him silly, I know it is true.

Words stumble out of his thin pink mouth, and for just a second I think I see his almond-shaped eyes go from emerald green to Cedric’s gray.

The last thing that goes through my brain before touching my lips to his is that I am slowly losing my mind.

When the door of the Ravenclaw common room opened and Cho finally emerged, all of his thoughts were immediately erased from Cedric Diggory’s mind. Slowly, he blinked, and felt his brain fill itself with words and phrases that were so clichéd he’d never dare to voice them for fear of sounding embarrassingly corny.

Cho sported that self-satisfied smile she wore whenever she managed to outwit him, or like in this case, leave him dumbstruck. She’d truly never looked more beautiful, and as this dawned on Cedric, he realized that this was perhaps not such a good thing.

As if reading his mind like those experts at Occlumency did, Cho declared haughtily. “I’m not changing.”

Cedric thought of the hordes of boys that would be hovering around her. He thought of that boy, Harry Potter, and started, “But--”

“It’s not up for discussion!” Cho retorted, as she claimed his arm as his and led them both towards the great hall. “Besides,” A coy smile flirted on her pink, full mouth and Cedric felt his own lips mirror it on their own accord, “I do like it when you are jealous.”

His defeat came in the form of a dramatic sigh.

She did not think of him.

Cho was thinking of her parents. Back when she was young enough to depend on them for some of the most basic necessities but old enough to do some wobbling, which on its own, was a form of walking. Back when life was simple and easy, and not as gray as it appeared to be now; when the biggest of her troubles was not having a sibling to play with, and when the closest thing to a heart-break that she experienced was the loss of her favourite toy.

She was happy, then—which is not to say she was not happy after that, but her life back then had seldom been tainted by sadness.

When the incantation slipped out of her mouth, silver sprouted from the tip of her wand and what had moments before been a shapeless mass, formed itself into a large, winged animal. Harry Potter himself had left the Longbottom boy to congratulate her, but she was busy pondering the bitter irony, the cosmic joke of it all.

She had not thought of him, and yet there it floated in front of her. A silver swan.

Didn’t Swans mate for life?

There is a vacant sweetness to the picture inside the over-sized locket. It is the sort of vacancy of something worn-out, and yet for some inexplicable reason, utterly irreplaceable.

Main focus of the picture: A teenaged couple, both clad in formal, and elegant dress robes.

The setting: The Great Hall, the twinkling faeries flying above and around them. Flower petals shower them, the result of a charm the boy never accomplished.

Time: Christmas.

The boy stands behind her, arms tightly draped around the girl’s waist. She seems to be standing on her tip-toes, and as she tries to look taller, they’re both carelessly laughing and smiling at the camera as though they have all the time in the world to waste.

Her expression mirrors his, both of which ooze happiness mixed with small hints of superiority that young, popular and good-looking people often seem to have. Completely content and pleased with themselves and each other as they look, the girl and the boy appear to be ready to take over the world with their ten thousand galleons-worth smiles, steal it with your permission, and keep it inside the safe places that their hearts are.

Spoiler alert: They never do.

They were close.

He could feel his heart stuttering inside his chest, as if preparing itself to run away from a killing curse. The smell of her shampoo filled his nostrils, an intoxicating combination of strawberries, cinnamon and something bittersweet that buried itself deep inside of him, making him shudder.

More than anything, he wanted to close the distance. More than anything, he wanted to—what? What did he want to do? Hug her? Touch her face? Kiss her? Had those questions being part of a test, Cedric would have said All of the Above. And yet, there he was, close enough to feel her hot breath against his chin and he was merely staring into her eyes, and occasionally glancing down at her freckles.

He didn’t even know she had freckles.

Verbal Diarrhea. “I’m sort of seeing someone right now.”

Close as they were, Cho’s eyes look huge when they widen. But then her expression fixed itself, and she took several steps back, smiling kindly. When she said, “That’s great,” her tone was friendly, but her stare was piercing.

The words died on his throat, and he watched her walk away, the one thing Cedric thought he’d never do.

Ooc: Katy Perry's The One That Got Away was my inspiration for this. :]