Losing the Game

Disclaimer: Don’t own Harry Potter, wish I did.

Hey everyone! Here I am again, finally writing my Cedric/Oliver/Cho fanfic. Special thanks to my wonderful beta, Mandy…hehe. I’m new here but I hope I pick up mucho new readers!

Rating: NC-17 for sexuality

Warning: Ok guys, this story isn’t for everyone. It’s got some extreme adult content- or at least in terms of sexual insinuation. Also, I wanted to let you all know (if you don’t know already) that this is an experiment. I absolutely love Cho Chang…but the way I portray her in this story may make some of you think that I hate her. Just try it and if you find yourself not liking it, I can’t be mad if you don’t read on.

One more thing—don’t read if you object to slash or femslash (this, however, is only hinted at).

Thanks everyone!

Love,
Stella

One

Cho

Every time I walk down this hallway, I smell sex.

And I’m in the girls’ locker room. Now, I assure you, and my boyfriend will tell you, I’m completely heterosexual. It’s just that I’m a nymphomaniac and no one believes me. So whenever I stare at Katie Bell like I want to climb inside her, people think I’m strange.

“Hi, Katie,” I said cheerfully to the beautiful brunette as she started ridding her forehead of sweat.

“Hey, Cho…good game, today, huh?” she replied politely. I nodded thoughtfully and turned, making my way to my locker.

Okay, Katie is a fifth year and a Gryffindor. I guess we don’t have very much to talk about besides Quidditch. The unfortunate thing is that I stopped caring about the game long ago. I’m planning to quit soon unless Cedric, my boyfriend, lets me see him in the boys’ locker room. The upsetting thing is, I don’t even want to see him—I want to see the other boys.

Too bad for me, Cedric is too much of a coward to let me in or to go against the rules—he doesn’t enjoy the thrill of things, the feeling you get from almost getting caught doing something absolutely mischievous—he doesn’t enjoy the adventure.

Not the way I do.

He was truly flabbergasted when I told him that I wanted him to take my virginity. He’d said something like, “But Cho…you’re only fourteen.” And I’d said, “Oh, please, Ced. Don’t tell you me haven’t done it yet…” And I remember laughing at him and making him blush.

Poor Cedric. He’s a great guy, a nice guy, a true gentleman, really. He kisses me right, he treats me right, and he always makes sure I get what I want. I’m really happy to be his girlfriend. We’re a smashing couple. We’re both really good looking and we wow the crowd at Hogwarts. But underneath all that glamorous all-is-well rubbish, he’s…well…he’s boring. For one thing, he studies a lot and he’s absolutely mad about the nerdiest subjects available for study: History of Magic and Arithmancy. And furthermore, he’s such an excellent student that I don’t believe he needs to spend as much time studying as he does.

I find our differences to be most dire, of course, in the bedroom. Cedric has to be in the mood to have sex with me. He has to say “I love you, Cho” every time we’re done, which I have a big problem with because, quite frankly, I don’t love Cedric. I’m too young and bold to be thinking about those kinds of emotions. And I don’t think Cedric loves me either—he’s just, again, going out of his way to be a gentleman, and it definitely gets annoying.

Because I’m not a lady.

I’m a nymphomaniac.

And Cedric hasn’t picked up the hint. I want him to have sex with me all day, every day, and I want him to turn up the volume a bit sometimes. He’s always too cautious—too afraid he might hurt me. And so we move slowly, quietly, and the sex is just mediocre. I don’t even know why I bother to keep him around sometimes. Every time I think about breaking up with him, I look into his shining gray eyes and their silver illumination tells me that I can’t be that cruel. Even if Cedric doesn’t love me, he certainly fancies me a great deal. And even though I’m an insatiable, somewhat condescending animal with an equally insatiable desire to feel the physical form of another human being, I’m not cruel.

Katie accidentally bumped into me on her way out of the locker room, almost knocking me over. The contact of her smooth skin against mine was stimulating, so I didn’t mind. I looked up briefly to see the Gryffindor Chaser in a disheveled state. She seemed to be in quite a rush.

“Oy, I’m sorry, Cho. I can’t believe how crowded the locker room gets every day! It’s insane,” Katie laughed sweetly. “I’m a little of in a hurry today…I hear we’re having a renowned visitor.”

I shrugged and put my jeans back on, staring at Katie’s glossy lips. She’s a pretty girl but too typical, too normal for me. She doesn’t have the same robust desire for physical contact as I do. I assumed that like everyone else, she was going out of her way to be nice to me because she knew I could tell that she thought of me as strange. Her warm conversations with me were an effort to dispel my suspicions. And I was a little irked by her penetrating glances. I didn’t care that my fellow classmates thought of me as a crazed sexual beast, but I was annoyed because I hadn’t really done anything to deserve that reputation. I did lust quite a bit—but I know that the ‘most lustful’ award is certainly not going to be earned by urging Cedric to pump up the volume in the bedroom. I should at least engage in something horribly obscene.

Katie smiled one last time and apologized before she turned to dash out of room.

“Katie!” I yelled, “Who is it that’s coming to visit?”

Katie turned around sharply and smiled, flashing her perfect teeth. “Oliver! Oliver Wood!”

Oliver Wood, huh? Fancy that. Reckon I hadn’t heard that name in a while. Last I heard he was off to Puddlemere United, and that was two years ago. A shame that we were so far apart in age—I would have loved to date him or get to know him. He was a real looker, if I remember right, and of course, from all the gossip I hear in the locker room, Wood served as both his surname and his greatest attribute.

And everyone knows I like an eyeful of wood.

I finished dressing quickly, thinking my usual inquisitive thoughts. With nothing but the sound of silence in the locker room, I left discreetly, hoping I might catch a glimpse of Oliver. And all the while—I physically couldn’t help it—I still had the smell of bruised and overexerted Quidditch players swimming in my head.