Disclaimmer: I do not own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does. That's final!!
A/N: Wow, my first Harry Potter fic. I'm so happy i could dance! Well, i gave writing a full story my first shot, tell me what you think about it, please! Preeetty please, review! Oh, and if you are a writer, give me some advice, i feel like i need it.
Marietta was snoring. Loudly. No, really.
The curly-haired girl lay sprawled in bed, twisted in a way that made it almost painful to watch. Her mouth was slightly ajar, with just the tiniest spec of drool sliding down the corner of her mouth and dripping unto the pillow. A cushion slammed against her face, but she barely noticed, merely moving to her side and mumbling a couple of incoherent words before sighing happily.
Her roommate groaned, grabbing her remaining pillow and pressing it hard against her head in a desperate attempt to block out the noise. Either that or she was trying to asphyxiate herself as her friend's snores did what she had thought impossible and, incredibly, became even louder than before. The cushioned pillow did little, such a poor job, actually, that she gave up hope of catching some sleep for what remained of the night and flung it across the room and against the wall.
With a sigh of discontent, she sluggishly slid from the side of her bed, flinching as her feet touched the cool surface of the floor. The boards creaked as her full weight finally shifted and settled on the floor, and she gave a long stretch, hearing as her bones creaked here and there. Her shoulder blade gave a twitch of pain, but she ignored it. Old quidditch wound from her first practice in her second year. The scar had long since healed, and the pain had dulled to a point where she no longer felt, or cared about it. It was all in the past, and dwelling in the past was, well, illogical.
She took a step forward, and her foot caught on something, probably the corner of the clawed foot of her bed. She jerked back, clutching her foot in pain. She jumped on the spot a few times, eyes watering in pain, before tightly clamping her mouth shut to block out the howl of pain that was threatening to escape her lips. Her brown eyes shifted to the side as she rubbed her toes in an attempt to stifle the wound. Her friend was still sleeping soundly. Well, not soundly. That girl…she could sleep through the apocalypse. She grumbled an oath under her breath, face somber.
It was pretty obvious. She could deny it no longer. Cho Chang was not having a good summer. And, by the looks of it, neither was her house.
The room was a mess, strewn with books and old school notes. A few candy wrappers here and there, shoes clumsily spilled out of the closet. Clothes where tossed haphazardly over the floor, drawers, desk and chairs. Two trunks lay opened, their contents scattered around the room or buried under piles or rubbish. Upturned robes and school uniforms were in both of their mattresses, rising like small mounds on the vacant sides of their beds. Quills, parchments and empty ink bottles drifted or rolled in the small breeze that entered through the lone half-opened window. A stack of old newspapers was the only thing seemingly organized in the room.
The headline of the top paper, which was also the last she had bought, caught her attention briefly. It read in big, bold black letters: Harry Potter: The Chosen One? And that was all she could make out, or read by any matter, in the dim light of her wand. The rest was smoldered by a drawing of the said boy. Her eyes flickered down to it, watching amused at it looked at her brightly with a smile.
Harry Potter stared back at her for the first time in months. He gazed up at her fondly from under thick, big round glasses. The shaggy black hair that hid his famous scar became even more untidy as he ran a hand through it in an attempt to comb it down, cheeks stinging light magenta. Cute kid, too bad he had an anger management problem. She smiled sleepily, vaguely remembering the day she had drawn it.
Had it been after D.A. practice in the past year? Yes. That was it. He had posed for half an hour as she drew him, watching every move, expression, and breath. Even the way his eyes brimmed with plain, undiluted affection for her as they had locked with her own on various occasions. She was certain she had managed to capture his love for her correctly in the image. He had liked this picture, and told her so himself. And then a kiss, and a laugh, and a smile. Maybe a few more kisses. She shook her head hastily as she slipped off her pajamas and into a faded green camisole and a pair of worn-out shorts. And again, memories were nice, but that was all they were: memories. And it was pointless to dwell in the past.
The future would push you forward. The past would drag you down. And it was always better being pushed forward than being dragged down, right?
Stupid old stairs. The oak wood of the Celtic-themed stairs creaked as she went down, and her ears drummed in discomfort. It was an old house, beautiful and large, but old and noisy. A few drafts here and there, nothing that couldn't be fixed with a bit of magic, but a good choice for a first house otherwise. Both she and Marietta had spent the little gold they had earned during summer jobs or from their parents in it, and it hadn't turned out such a bad deal. Five rooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, small living-room and a fantastic yard. If anything, it was too big for only two people. Of course, they just had to be over-exited. What few they had left been spent on lavish decorations and clothing to match their new lives.
In the end, they didn't even have a galleon left to buy food supplies, and they had to return to their parent's shame-faced and asking for a few more cents to complete their home.
With a sigh, Cho rummaged thought the food drawers, pushing a few pasta boxes and some spices aside as she looked for something good enough to eat. It wasn't like she was hungry, it was the fact that she had nothing to do but sit down that had sent her food-hunting. Her mouth twisted to the side as she stared at some sweets and cereal boxes in thought. Nothing really appealed to her for the moment. She had stuffed herself so often with sweets and cereals, and other kinds of food common to her kitchen that most made her gag on sight. With nothing else to choose from, she settled for a can of soup on the bottom shelf and stuffed it into a small pot before setting it to boil on the stove.
A few seconds later she poured it into a bowl and placed it on the table before slumping down to eat. She sat on the chair and yelped as something wet sank against her back, sending a wave of shivers as frigid water leaked past her clothing and reached her skin. She abruptly sat up before groaning in distaste. A pair of red panties with the word sexy emblazoned against fire meet her unfortunate gaze. She gave a grunt of disgust as she pulled the soaked piece of clothing out of the seat's head and tossed it aside. She didn't even want to know…
"Up already?" Marietta lazily made her way into the kitchen, and Cho grinned as she caught sight of her messy curls sticking up everywhere. "What's with the grin?"
"Your hair is messed up" she replied with another quirky grin. Marietta scoffed before yawning sleepily and pulling out a slice of chocolate cake and a carton of milk from the fridge "And that's gonna kill you."
"I don't care. It'll be a good death." Her friend took a large chunk of the dessert and sat on the chair facing her. Chocolate stained her mouth and the tip of her nose but she ignored it, taking a long gulp out of the milk carton. "God, you didn't let me sleep last night…"
"What?!" Cho asked, confused and curious. Marietta had been the one snoring like a pig for most of the night, and she had been the one who hadn't gotten any sleep? She almost wanted to toss her spoon at the girl "You where the one snoring like a troll with sinus, and I'm the one who kept you up?!"
"Igh dunh snore." Her friend said through a mouthful of cake. She swallowed down with difficulty, and Cho watched as her eyes watered, waiting for her to continue "Geez, almost choked. Anyways, you were the one moaning in your sleep."
"What? That's crazy!" Cho stuttered in shock, watching as a smirk crept up her friend's face when she began blushing heavily. "You're insane! All that sugar is going to your brain. Not to mention your teeth. And your thighs."
"Well," Marietta said smugly, waving what remained of her cake around "Want to know what you where moaning? Or do you want to know whose name you were moaning?"
"No!" She spat hotly, trying her best to keep cool under the accusation. In the end, it was too much, and her whole face and neck changed from light tan to tomato-red. "No I didn't!"
"Oh! Oh! Oh! Harry. Mmmm" Marietta leaned back into her chair and rolled her eyes, exaggeratingly opening her mouth as the passionate moans escaped her lips. "Oh, God! Harry, God!! Ugh, ugh! Oooh!!"
"Etta, enough!" She was getting seriously annoyed and embarrassed. Had she really? The thought startled her. She didn't recall doing anything of the sort, and she was even pretty sure that she had not dreamt anything at all. Especially not about Harry. Maybe Marietta was toying with her. Either way, it was getting her angry.
"Haha! That'd be a funny one, wouldn't it? You getting your first orgasm out of a dream." Marietta laughed happily. Clearly she found this whole situation very amusing. "I thought you said you were over him."
"Etta…"
"Must've left you wanting. Cuz the way you were moving in bed, it seemed like you were enjoying it! Was he really that good? You never did talk about what you did with Potter after D.A. practice."
"Etta, I'm warning you…"
"I mean, it was the Room of Requirement! All you had to do was think of a bed and boom! Instant Kama Sutra!!"
"Argh! Etta!!!" Cho sent the spoon flying her way before she lunged at her, spilling the bowl of soup, milk and the table as she made a grab for the other girl's shirt. Marietta gave a yelp and barely managed to duck the metal spoon before breaking into a clumsy run. "I'm going to kill you!"
It was a pathetic thing, really. Cho managed to catch her by jumping over the couch before pinning her against the ground. The whole thing was a mess of tangled limbs and giggles as her friend giddily laughed, dodging her playful punches. Cho was small, normal in height and small enough in figure to be called petite, but she was definitely not weak. As a matter of fact, she was quite the imposing person. She managed to wrap her legs around Marietta so she couldn't squirm, and she hooked her arm behind her head to grab her in a chokehold. With a gasp, Marietta began flailing wildly, now desperate for the air Cho's chokehold was cutting off.
"Who's my bitch?" Cho snarled, recalling how Marietta had once said the same thing about her. She was grabbing her head forcefully but letting her hold lose so that the other girl could talk. "Hmmm?"
"God, CHO!"
"I said, who's my bitch?!"
"God, I am! Happy now?"
"No" Cho said jokingly while she grinned evilly "Now say I'm the most perfect, most beautiful thing the world has ever seen."
"Geez, narcissist much! Ouch!" She sighed in defeat and slumped against her grip "Fine, fine. You are the most beautiful, gorgeous, wonderful, magnificent, perfect thing the world has ever, or will ever see."
"Ha!" With a triumphant bout of laughter, Cho released her head, watching as Marietta moved to her knees, hair sticking up awkwardly on her head. Her friend huffed, patting down her hair before giving her small smile.
"It's true, you know." She said slowly, watching for any other sign of aggression.
"Whoa, whoa!" Cho shot her an amused look "I don't swing that way, Etta."
"Not that!" Marietta shoved her playfully "That you were moaning in your sleep. It got me angry at first, you know, cuz of the sneak thing, but then it was totally hilarious."
"Really?" Oh, god. Cho just wanted to crawl into a hole and die. She was totally embarrassed. Moaning? Never, ever in her life had she done that before! And about Harry? She hadn't talked about him ever since their sudden break-up at the end of last term.
She was over him, right? She hadn't felt anything for him, right? The relationship had ended terribly, and they were now too embarrassed to look at each other, let alone speak! It would just be terribly awkward to go up to him and talk after their lethal love spat. Besides, she was tired of him leaving her for Hermione and Ron all the time. Sure they were his friends, but she was his girlfriend! He was also supposed to spend time with her. If he didn't want the commitment then he should have just told her so in the first place and she wouldn't have gotten her hopes too high. But half of her was also feeling kind of guilty.
Harry Potter was trying his hardest to understand her. He was going to fight against Voldemort, he was training the D.A. and dealing with Umbridges' constant interruptions. Life wasn't exactly easy for him. Not that that gave him an excuse to be a complete arse with her. Of course, maybe if she hadn't been mourning over Cedric and talking about him when she was supposed to be with Harry, maybe it would've been better. It's not like people enjoyed talking about other people's dead ex boyfriends. Ok, maybe it was both of their faults. But mostly his, right?
"Yeah, pretty much."
"Ouch." She winced, rubbing her arm like a little girl who had been caught doing a prank "I've never been more embarrassed in my life…."
"If you still like him, tell him."
"I can't!" Cho was amazed that she could suggest such a thing. Not after last year. He probably didn't even want to see her for the rest of his life. "He probably hates me."
"Ugh." Marietta rolled her eyes, using the sofa for support as she stood up. "He was totally jealous when he saw you talking to Roger on the quidditch match last year. His face totally turned red and he was glaring at him."
"Really?!" Cho asked brightly. Marietta shot her a half-smug half-sleazy grin and she cleared her throat. "Err, really?"
"Yes, really." Marietta gently prodded her with her foot. "Now let's stop any talk concerning your sexual fantasies about Potter. I promised Michael I'd meet him at the mall, remember?"
"Oh, yeah, right." Cho sighed. She turned to her right, bounding in the direction of her room to find a decent pair of clothes to change into. "Lemme get changed."
"That's good and all," Marietta giggled "but the room is up the stairs."
"Oh, yeah, right." Cho shot her an embarrassed smile before climbing up the stairs. "Up the stairs I go."
"Ugh, that one." Marietta muttered darkly, watching as her friend's figure disappeared into the bedroom "What's so special about Harry Potter anyways?"
Harry was snoring loudly.
He was sitting in his chair, near the window, and had been for long hours, almost until he was pretty sure his arse had flattened. Why near the window? He had been staring outside, closely pressed against it, waiting for any sign of an attack. So he had fallen asleep, his cheek tightly against the window, glasses twisted by the force and his slow, deep breathing fogging up the dirty crystal panel as his mouth hung ajar. Outside was peaceful, almost unnerving, and the orange glow of the streetlamp in the corner cast an eerie glow over him, making his skin seem pale, which was really horrible because it made him look rather ghastly with the shock of jet-black hair and his dark eyebrows.
The room was a mess, a total pigsty. It was strewn with various possessions, and a good amount of worthless rubbish. Owl feathers, apple cores and sweet wrappers littered the floor, a number of spell books lay open and sprawled on his bed next to a pile of disheveled cloaks, robes and school clothing and a mess of newspapers sat in a puddle of light cast by an old lamp on his desk. The first one read: Harry Potter: The Chosen One? The second was presented in the front page with even larger: Scrimgeour Succeeds Fudge and the third and final one read: Ministry Garantees Student's Safety. Half of that story was obscured by a large birdcage. Harry's snowy owl, Hedwig, gave a low hoot and clipped her beak impatiently, but her master was too deeply asleep to hear it.
He grunted in his sleep, face sliding a few more inches down the glass and making his glasses more lopsided against his face, probably burying the metal into his skin, but he didn't wake up. An old alarm clock that had once belonged to his massive cousin Dudley ticked softly against the silence of his room. One minute to eleven. Just one more minute. Beside the clock, gently held in place by Harry's relaxed hand, was a piece of parchment covered in thin, slanted writing. Dumbledore's letter. During the past few days since its arrival, he had read it so much that the curve that had set in once the parchment had been furled was now non-existent, and it lay flat against the nightstand. Dumbledore had said, Dumbledore had promised, to come this night.
He shifted slightly in the chair, and a piece of parchment that had been sitting forgotten on his lap fell swiftly on the floor.
The paper really had nothing important in it. A few smudged letters here and there, a drawing he had hastily made while trying to describe something that resembled childish affection, a few words that he hadn't quite managed to place properly. A pitiful attempt at writing a letter to someone. A mess. Just like his room. The only sentence that actually managed to make sence was the one scribbled on the top. Just a name with no importance whatsoever now that he was fast asleep.
Dear Cho:
A/N: I had no idea what to do in the Harry part! I was like, wtf, what can i do to bring in Harry without changing how the book began, much? So i settled for this. Lame, i know ::Dejected sigh:: Please review and say if you like!!! PLEEEEEEEEESE!!!