Sea of Waking Dreams

Sea of Waking Dreams

The bar was dim and smoky, with little tables where couples sat, conversing quietly over their drinks. Cho took a seat with her colleagues near the back where shadows made intricate patterns over their clothes and skin. Everyone here was young, and had that intellectual look to them--for a moment it was a bit like being back in Ravenclaw again, surrounded by others who seemed so similar to her but were so vastly different underneath it all. Cho had done a lot of growing up since leaving Hogwarts, though, and now the familiarity of these strangers was refreshing, rather than oppressing.

Work had run late that night at Maeve, the witches' magazine where she worked. They'd been holding a long interview with an up and coming new artist, and hadn't left the office until eight thirty. Penelope Clearwater, her editor and former schoolmate, was seated beside her, calmly sipping her beer and copying notes onto a small notepad. The other woman was famous for her workaholic tendencies, and having worked with her for nearly two years now, Cho could easily vouch for the validity of most of those rumors. On Penelope's other side was a wizard three years her senior, Willie Bain, a photographer for the magazine.

Cho watched as Willie leaned close to Penelope, whispering in her ear. A small smile spread over Penelope's face, an occurrence rare enough to merit note, if there were anyone to comment. She could see his fingers brush against the back of Penelope's hand casually, and the answering blush in her cheeks.

Cho turned away. It was obvious to everyone that something was developing between the two, and she was beginning to regret agreeing to come here with them. It was becoming more and more evident that she was little more than a third wheel. Bored, Cho turned her attention to a woman on stage, sitting alone with a Muggle guitar in her lap and waves of red hair veiling her face.

She was surprisingly talented for someone who performed in a little bar off Diagon Alley. Her voice was slightly husky, with a soft fluidity that was incredibly sensual. Her skin was pale and flawless beneath the stage lights, and combined with the vibrant red of her hair she seemed iridescent. Even her robes, made in a plain and unremarkable reddish-brown, gave off a light of their own. In the brief moment Cho had turned to study her, she had become mesmerized.

Taking a cautious sip of her beer, Cho reminded herself that she wasn't alone. She was in a room full of people, with two of her colleagues beside her--it wouldn't do to start swooning in front of all of them like a schoolgirl. But even knowing this, she couldn't fight the irresistible pull of her eyes, drawn inexorably back to the red-haired woman. The song she was singing was a ballad of some sort, something old and sad. As she sang, Cho could see images in her mind, like great paintings, full of vivid colors and perfect, steady brushstrokes. Even the tiniest of details was created before her, the curve of a flower petal, and the bright flash of sunlight against water.

The voices and faces around her melted into the hazy air of the bar, a pleasant, gentle buzz that wrapped around her like cotton. And through that came the silk of the woman's voice, moving with fluidity across the distances between them. Cho realized with a start that she'd stopped breathing.

"Cho?" Willie was saying. She blinked and tried to focus on his round face. "Are you all right? You're looking a bit tired."

She laughed half-heartedly. "Fine, fine. Just been a long day, that's all. You guys want anything more to drink?"

"I'll have another beer, if you're getting up," Willie replied. He shot Penelope a teasing look. "What about you, my dear? Feeling adventurous?"

Penelope rolled her eyes and held up the beer bottle in her hand, still half full. "I'll be fine, thanks."

Cho shrugged and rose from her chair. The song was coming to its end, and she turned to spare one last glance at the singer before she got lost in the crowd hovering about the bar. Just as she did so, the other woman looked up, and their eyes met. Cho gasped.

Ginny Weasley.

She was unmistakable, even after five years having passed since Cho had last seen her. Cho had, of course, noticed her face now and then in the Daily Prophet, several years ago during the days of the war, when anyone so closely associated with the Boy Who Lived was considered headline material for the local media. She had never really spared much thought for the younger girl, as they hadn't really known each other during their school years. But now, Cho found herself wishing that they had been acquaintances, if only so that she could speak to her now.

As Cho made her way through the maze of tables, she considered the matter. There was no reason why she couldn't go strike up conversation with Ginny, even though there was the risk of things being a bit awkward. She ordered their drinks, glancing back over her shoulder again as Ginny set her guitar aside, preparing for a break. Nothing ventured...

Cho dropped off Willie's drink, making a few quick excuses before heading over to where Ginny was sitting on the edge of the stage, taking a long drink from a glass of water. She looked up in surprise as Cho approached her, but seemed genuinely interested to see her.

"Ginny Weasley?" Cho asked, extending her hand. "I don't suppose you remember me. I'm Cho Chang, we used to go to school together."

Ginny nodded. "Of course I remember you. I mean, you know, big Quidditch star and all that..."

She smiled. "Well, I wouldn't go that far. I certainly had nothing on your Seeker, that's for sure. So, how have you been?"

"Oh, you know, I manage." Ginny shrugged, setting aside her glass and gesturing for Cho to have a seat beside her. "You?"

"Still managing," Cho replied. "I didn't know you were a musician. How'd you come to be playing in a little place like this? With a voice like yours, I'd imagine you'd be giving the Weird Sisters a run for their money."

Ginny's face was carefully still when she answered. "I had my share of fame over the years. I think I prefer small places like this... It's easier when you just blend in."

Cho found it hard to believe that Ginny could ever "just blend in" anywhere, not with long red hair or creamy white skin like hers. But she was willing to let the comment slide, for the time being. "I suppose I understand that. I know how my kind can be; they're like jackals and vultures when there's a good story to be had."

"Your 'kind'?"

"I'm a journalist for Maeve," Cho said. Ginny's eyes widened.

"Oh, of course! I remember your article a few months ago about the Memorial they were building," Ginny said. "I'd forgotten that was you. I'd always imagined you'd keep going with Quidditch. How'd you become a writer?"

"How does anyone? I've always had a penchant for it, but I didn't really start taking it seriously until I went to university. Thanks to the war, journalism had become a pretty popular field, and I knew a few people who were majoring in it. It appealed to me, so I tried it, and here I am."

"I always wanted to be a novelist," Ginny admitted, her voice low as if this were a secret confession. "But I never had the talent for it. Everything I wrote was half-formed, and I eventually realized that my skill lay in lyrics, not fiction."

"That last song- was it one of your own?" Cho asked.

Ginny nodded. "A bit depressing, wasn't it? I'm afraid most of my songs are; angsty ballads are just my niche, I suppose."

"I thought it was wonderful. Well, as much as I heard of it, anyway."

The redhead flushed. "Thanks. So, what brings you here tonight?"

"Oh, I'm just out with a couple of people from work. I don't suppose you knew Penelope Clearwater? That's her over there, with one of our photographers." Cho indicated the two of them, who were leaning close together, talking intimately.

"She dated one of my brothers for a while, actually," Ginny answered. "I'd say she's moved on since then, from the looks of things."

Cho sighed. "Ah yes, the happy couple. I honestly wish the two of them would just get a room and get it over with. Thank goodness I ran into you, I don't know if I could've handled playing third wheel all night."

Ginny's eyes moved away from hers, studying the clear water as it swirled inside its glass, catching the orange lights from the stage like tiny golden coins. She seemed uncertain about something, and Cho waited silently as she searched for words.

"Are you seeing anyone these days?" she asked finally, her voice casual. Cho had to suppress a smile. Maybe her chances were better than she'd thought.

"Oh no," Cho answered, deceptively light. "I haven't seen anyone since Lisa and I broke it off three months ago."

Cho was delighted to note the way Ginny's eyes widened slightly at this revelation. Weren't expecting that one, were you?

"Lisa?" Ginny repeated. "You mean, Lisa Turpin?"

"The one and only. She and I were both Ravenclaws, and I bumped into her again about a year ago when I was doing a review of a book she'd written," Cho explained. She took a long sip from her drink, as memories swam through her mind like soft, will o' the wisps. "We ended up dating for awhile, but, as it's often said, there's a reason Ravenclaws should never date each other. How about you?"

Ginny's attention turned inward, and there was a strange distance in her eyes that left Cho feeling cold. "No, there hasn't been anyone in a very long time."

She wasn't really surprised. Cho had heard rumors, years ago, that Ginny had lost someone to the war, but it had never been known who. She wanted to ask now, but something in Ginny's expression warned her not to investigate further. There were many things about that time that were simply best left forgotten. Cho understood what the look in the other woman's eyes meant, as she too knew what it was to lose someone.

She'd never really been in love with Cedric, and as she'd gotten older and discovered where her preferences really lay, she became fairly certain that she probably would have left him eventually. But she had cared about him a lot, and his death had been a horrible experience for her, at such a young age. Burying the ones you love never got easier, either, no matter how many times you had to do it.

"It's difficult, isn't it?" Cho asked. She smiled self-mockingly, realizing what an enormous understatement that was. "I'd like to say that I understand, but it's different for all of us."

If Ginny was at all surprised that Cho had known of her loss, she didn't show it. Her eyes were still locked on the glass, as if she were seeing something else entirely. "Is it? You know what that pain feels like just as well as I do, I imagine. We're all human, after all."

"How much longer are you going to be here tonight?" Cho asked.

Ginny shrugged. "The next performance will be here in ten minutes. I'm pretty much done for the evening."

Cho smiled winningly at her, taking the other woman's hand in her own. She had to force herself not to think too hard about the soft skin beneath her fingers, so warm against her own hand. "Let's get out of here then. Just you and me--we'll paint the town red, and all that nonsense."

The smile that spread slowly across Ginny's features was more than reward enough. With a quick glance down at their entwined hands, Ginny let her gaze travel back up to meet Cho's and there was something shining in her eyes that hadn't been there before. "All right. Whatever you want."

******

Ginny was waiting for her outside, her hair the color of fire beneath the lanterns. Cho stood in the shadows by the doorway for a moment, just watching her. It was amazing how beautiful Ginny had become. She'd always been somewhat on the plain side when they were at school, just a shy, quiet girl that didn't attract much attention at first. During Cho's final year, Ginny had become somewhat more noticeable than before, as she'd grown out of her shell. Cho vaguely remembered hearing about Ginny's romance with one of the younger Ravenclaws when she was in sixth year, but after Cedric and that fiasco with Harry Potter, Cho had stopped paying attention to most of the students outside of her own small group of friends.

Cho was beginning to see that there was a whole different side to Ginny, one that was bright and passionate, but had been suppressed by all the struggles she'd had in life. She wondered briefly what Ginny would've been like if the war had never happened, and that fire inside her had never been hidden away. Cho didn't dwell on those thoughts for long, though. She'd learned the futility of asking "what if?" a long time ago.

"All set?" Cho asked as she moved to join the other woman. Ginny nodded.

"What about your friends?"

Cho shrugged. "They hardly even noticed I was there, let alone what I said. I can't imagine they'll spend too much time missing my presence."

Ginny winced. "That bad, huh?"

"Worse. Not that I don't like them; I do, we've been friends for ages. It just gets old after a while."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Ginny said sympathetically.

Cho wondered if she did know, but decided not to ask. She was determined to bring out the old Ginny tonight, no matter what she had to do to find her. Slipping her hand into Ginny's again, and firmly ignoring the questioning gaze the other woman shot her, Cho set off down the narrow, darkened street. Fortunately the bar was only a few blocks away from Cho's work, so she knew her way around this section of Diagon Alley. She leaned in close to Ginny's ear, secretly pleased with the hint of pink coloring Ginny's fair cheeks, and whispered, "Follow me."

Towards the end of Diagon Alley, down past Gringotts where most of the smaller businesses were located, was a little park. It was abandoned now, of course, being so late at night, but was still well lit because of the reflection of the moonlight against the still surface of a pond, and the tiny fairies that drifted lazily through the warm summer air. Lisa had taken her here at night once before, and Cho had been charmed by the place ever since. Ginny was taking in her surroundings quietly, her eyes alighting on the softly glowing fairy lights.

"It's beautiful," she murmured. Cho could hear that huskiness in her voice again, and felt her breath catch. Ginny was perfect here.

If she had looked iridescent under the stage lights, then she had become surreal surrounded by the gentle blue glow of the magical creatures. The moonlight caught the hints of red and gold in her hazel eyes, lighting them up from within. Cho absently brushed her thumb over the smooth skin on the back of Ginny's hand, unable to do anything more than simply watch her.

It being late July now, the day had only just cooled to a warm, bearable temperature, and the lingering heat in the air seemed charged with electricity. Slipping her hand away from Ginny's, Cho began to unfasten the lacings of her cloak. She toed off her shoes, sending Ginny a look that was at once challenging and inviting. Ginny watched her in surprise, and then, slowly, began to shrug off her own cloak.

The grass was cool and sticky beneath her now bare feet as Cho made her way over to the edge of the pond. It was large as far as ponds went, and she knew that children often swam here during the day. Ginny shot her a startled look when it became apparent what she meant to do, and paused in undoing the numerous buckles on her boots.

"You can't really mean to go in there," Ginny called. Cho just smiled. "Cho!"

"Shh!" Cho warned in mock fear. "You don't want anyone to find us, do you? Just imagine what the Prophet would make of that!"

"Cho!" Ginny protested again, but it looked as though she were trying hard not to laugh. Cho was unable to fight off a pleased smirk, and she slipped lazily into the cool water, beckoning Ginny forward with one elegant hand.

"Come on, then," Cho urged, as the other woman continued to watch her with barely concealed amusement. "Whoever heard of a Gryffindor backing down from a challenge?"

That did it. Ginny's face set in determination as she dropped her cloak and took a few tentative steps into the shallow pond. "Oh? And whoever heard of Ravenclaws breaking the rules?" she returned, her eyes shining.

Cho smiled. "Clearly, you haven't been hanging around the right Ravenclaws."

Beneath her robes Ginny wore a dark blouse and a pair of Muggle jeans, which Cho, who was a Pureblood witch, found a bit odd and somewhat... exotic. The water made the denim nearly black, and caused the already tight-fitting pants to cling in all sorts of fascinating ways. The contrast of the dark material with Ginny's fiery hair and skin as white and soft as the fairy light was so entrancing that for a long moment all Cho could do was watch her every movement, as though Ginny were as immaterial as the light she reflected, and would disappear just as easily.

"So," Ginny murmured, her voice as smooth as the water that was lapping at Cho's skin, sending little shivers down her spine. "Do you swim in ponds during the middle of the night regularly, Miss Chang?"

"Now and then," Cho replied vaguely, catching Ginny's hazel eyes as she spoke, "but I'm not usually privileged with such lovely company."

Ginny flushed, her gaze never wavering from Cho's, and Cho found herself lost again, her entire world narrowing until there was nothing but Ginny, so soft and radiant before her, and this strange, familiar magnetism that was drawing them together, too strong to resist. Cho began to understand that she had never seen anything as beautiful as Ginny was in that moment, bathed in water and moonlight and fairy lights, her face so perfect that it hurt to look at her, but to look away was ten times as unbearable.

It wasn't until their lips met in that first kiss that Cho realized she was falling, but by then it was too late. Ginny had caught her, her arms wrapped around Cho's waist, and her lips moving in a rhythmic caress, a melody that existed wherever they touched. She could taste the pain and the depth of sorrow and passion that filled Ginny, so bitter-sweet and raw that it was overwhelming. Kissing Ginny was like coming back to life, or waking up from a long sleep; suddenly everything was new again, and so much more vivid than before. The water was like the finest silk against her skin, and the smell of flowers and grass and Ginny was sweeter and more intoxicating than the best of wines. She had never felt anything so powerful, or so perfect...

Kissing Ginny was like coming home.

Cho drew away, resting her forehead against Ginny's, catching her breath. Ginny's eyes were still closed, and tiny jewels of water clung to her dark lashes. She wanted to kiss them away, wanted to kiss Ginny's face and her beautiful, slender neck and the curve of her shoulder; she wanted to taste the smooth skin of her breasts, to press little butterfly kisses over all the flawless, moon-white skin that made up Ginny's body.

"Are you real?" Cho whispered, her breath ghosting over Ginny's lips, as red and delicate as rose petals.

Ginny's smile was heartbreaking, but Cho couldn't bring herself to turn away, however much it hurt to see the pain there. "Does it matter?"

There was no need to answer, because Cho already knew the truth. She'd been waiting all her life for this moment, and nothing mattered anymore, except for the taste of Ginny's kisses and the fire-bright color of her hair, burning Cho to ashes over and over again, only to resurrect her, renewed and made beautiful, through the power of love.

Because there was nothing more that needed to be said, because finding Ginny was a beginning and an end all at once, Cho did the only thing she could.

She leaned forward, and kissed Ginny again.

Fin.