I walk across the corridors of Hogwarts, arm in arm with my best friend, Marietta Edgecombe. She smirks as Michael Corner jogs by to catch up to his group of equally attractive friends. Marietta watches him, still grinning, out of the corner of her eye while adjusting her scarf across her neck, just for something to do. I smile to myself, resisting the urge to laugh. She fancies pretty much any guy she lays her eyes on, and doesn't really try to hard to hide it. She can fall head over heels for a guy within first glance. Still watching him, she flips back her red-blonde hair and laughs really loudly as if I had just said a joke, in attempt to get Michael's attention. Michael looks over at us for a moment curiously, then (to Marietta's great dismay) goes back to talking to his fellow Ravenclaws. Marietta frowns and then turns to me. "How come no guy will just ask me to the ball already," she mutters angrily. "Has anyone already asked you?" she adds with a sad look, obviously hoping I'll say no so she won't feel left out. "No," I say, desperate to keep my voice casual.
I stare at the stone walls and paintings, as though fascinated by the ancient craftsmanship. In truth I have been stressing out about the Yule Ball ever since it was announced. I know for a fact that Terry Boot, one of Michael's friends, has been thinking about asking me, and I wish he would just so I could be asked by someone. Though, if I'm totally honest with myself, I wouldn't say yes. I already have my eye on someone...with jet black hair...incredible green eyes...
"So is there anyone you are interested in?" says Marietta in a slightly cheerful voice due to the fact that she isn't the only one that hasn't been asked already.
"No," I lie with ease.
She frowns slightly, for she was probably hoping for me to go into deep detail about some bloke who I've had a crush on for ages, and that we actually have already kissed but he ditched me afterward...anything full of scandal that would make a great gossip topic for future discussions. But to be honest, I'm just not a spill-my-guts-about-everything girl. I prefer to keep secrets to myself, simply because I can sometimes put my faith in the wrong person, and as well as I think of Marietta, I'm just not willing to risk my deepest secrets by chance.
We walk down the Grand Staircase, nearly dropping our books as the stairs twist unexpectedly to the left. Marietta leads the way to the Great Hall for breakfast. When we sit down at the Ravenclaw table, I drink up a whole goblet of pumpkin juice in two gulps. Darcy McGee walks towards us arm in arm with Fleur Delacor and sit down in front of us. Darcy smiles adjusting her Ravenclaw scarf, and turns to Fleur. "Has anyone asked you yet?" Darcy asks in an excited voice.
"Yes, everywon 'as been asking me, and zey won't leave me alone!" Fleur exclaimed, annoyed. "And none of zee boyz are even zat cute, zey all are annoying leetle boyz zat zink zay stand a chance. Zey bring me flowers, and chocolates, and zey just act so desperate. Ze boyz from Beauxbatons are much more classy and zexy and romantic, unlike zese leetle immature stalker boyz from Ogwarts." She continues to complain in her annoying French accent while Marietta and Darcy look up at her admiringly. I on the other hand am not listening. Harry Potter just walked in the Great Hall.
I act as if I'm paying attention to Fleur, nodding and saying "Yeah" every few minutes, while I watch Harry enter with his friends Ron and Hermione. Harry and his friends sit down at the Gryffindor table. I notice out of the corner of my eye that Harry is watching me. I act as if he is beneath my notice as I laugh at a joke Fleur said that I didn't hear. Then he looks away to talk to Ron and Hermione. Hermione. I frown to myself. He seems to always have his attention on her. I go back to listening to my friends talk to try to distract my from my unbearable envy.
" ...and then she just fell right into it!" says Darcy laughing so hard her face is turning purple. Fleur and Marietta laugh along with her, both red in the face. I laugh too, even though I am oblivious as to what they have been talking about for the past six minutes. Darcy seems to notice that my laugh was fake and forced. "What's on your mind, Cho?" she asked quietly, still smiling.
"Nothing, just school work," I lie equally quietly.
Then I hear Harry's voice from a distance. Not well enough to hear what he's saying, but loud enough to catch my attention. I turn my head towards the Gryffindor table to watch him briefly. Darcy notices instantly. Turns to see who I was looking at and smiles knowingly. She briefly glances at Fleur and Marietta to check if they are listening to us. They aren't. They are giggling while in deep conversation about some Beauxbatons boy.
Darcy turns to me.
"So, you're into Harry Potter," she says casually. "Since when?"
I blush but decide to be honest.
"Since the Ravenclaw/Griffindor game last year," I say quietly.
"Well," she says gently, "I think he's interested in someone else."
"Who?" I ask, already knowing the answer.
"Hermione." she says not as quietly this time. "I know he says that they're just friends, but..."
She stops talking when she notices that Fleur and Marietta aren't talking anymore, and are listening intently.
"But, izen't Ermione enterested in zat red-'ead, Ron Weaby?" asks Fleur.
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean that Harry doesn't still like her," Marietta intervenes, "It's sort of a love-triangle I think."
"Does Ron Weaby like Ermione as well?"
"Yeah it's so obvious. He'll be so jealous when he finds out that Victor asked her."
"Victor Krum!?"exclaims Darcy, desperate to still be a part of the conversation, "He asked her!? How in the name of Merlin did she pull that off?"
"I honestly don't know, but I hear that she hasn't told anyone else yet," says Marietta, obviously pleased with Darcy's reaction, "I just can't wait to see Ron's face when-"
"Wait, how did you find out?" I ask with skepticism in my voice.
"Fleur is friends with Victor." Says Marietta as if the answer was obvious and I was stupid to ask such a dumb question.
"Anyveys, why are ve talking about Arry, Ermione, and Ron Weaby?" asks Fleur, sounding as annoyed as always.
"Because Cho says that she likes Harry." says Darcy.
I blush, and stare at the table, waiting for the eruption of opinions to pour from Marietta and Fleur. I wish I hadn't been staring at Harry. I wish Darcy hadn't noticed. And above all I just wish that Darcy would know when to shut up. Instantly at her words Marietta gazed up at me in shock.
"Harry Potter! How in the world can you like him?!" asks Marietta.
"Keep your voice down!" I hiss at her in a whisper.
"How can you like him?" she asks, her voice quieter now, but still full of judgment. "He is just a show-off who put his name in the Goblet underage just because he's Harry Potter and thinks that he can get away with anything and everything. Just cause he survived You-Know-Who he thinks he's something special and has to boast it by entering the Triwizard Tournament just to get more publicity that he already has. He wears that scar like a bloody crown, and all the publicity he had still wasn't enough for him, so he had to go and do something incredibly stupid just to get his name in the Daily Prophet for the fifty-millionth time, and-"
"Alright I get it!" I yell interrupting her speech.
"I just don't see how you can fancy him is all." says Marietta
"How can you not fancy him?" exclaims Darcy, still wanting to be a part of the conversation that she started, "He is so good-looking, and he survived You-Know-Who!"
"He iz too leetle for my taste. What iz he, like twelve yearz old?" says Fleur.
"He is not 'leetle'," I say, saying 'little' in my best impression of Fleur, "He's fourteen."
"Vell zere izn't much of a difference to me, considering zat I am zeventeen, fourteen is still too leetle for my taste." says Fleur stubbornly, "Boyz from Beauxbatons all look a lot older, more attractive, and are just plain taller! Hey who iz zat leetle girl?"
Fleur and Darcy look at something behind my head. Marietta and I turn our heads to see.
I recognize the girl at once. She isn't exactly someone who you can forget about. She has long, dirty blonde hair; a butterbeer cork necklace; and for some reason is wearing both her Ravenclaw scarf and a weird purple, orange, and sparkly gold scarf. Luna Lovegood.
Luna smiles down at us and asks in a overly calm voice, "May I sit with you? I would've sat somewhere else, but I arrived here late for certain reasons...and all the other seats are taken, or at least everyone tells me they are when I ask them if I can sit with them..." her voice trails off and we sit watching her a mixture of embarrassment and pity playing across all of our faces.
"Er sure you can." I say, moving my cloak out of the seat to my left and sticking my arms through the sleeves.
"Thank you." she says in the same, strangely calm voice.
"Your scarf has a hole ripped in it," says Darcy after a few moments to break the awkward silence, pointing it out.
Luna frowned. "Must be the nargles. Repairo!" she says, pointing her wand at the purple, orange, and gold scarf, mending the hole.
We all look at each other. Darcy is hiding a laugh behind her hand, while Fleur is openly giggling. Marietta looks simply sympathetic. I wonder for a moment to myself what nargles are, but then decide that it isn't really of importance.
"So are you going to the Yule Ball?" I ask Luna to break the silence. It's the first thing that came to my mind to say.
"No, I am in my third year and nobody has asked me." she says in the annoyingly calm voice.
"Well maybe someone will ask you. You never know." says Marietta hopefully, probably knowing good and well that nobody in their right mind will ask her.
"Yes maybe." says Luna.
"Let's go get our books." I say as an excuse to leave.
"Okay." says Marietta wiping her mouth with a cloth napkin while Darcy puts on her cloak that was hanging off the back of her chair. Fleur gives us a you-honestly-aren't-going-to-leave-me-alone-with-her look and then decides to just rudely stand up and walk out of the Great Hall, giving Luna no excuse at all. Luna doesn't seem to be paying attention. She is reading a copy of The Quibbler from under the table.
Marietta, Darcy, and I walk out of the Great Hall, leaving Luna reading her magazine.
"She's so..." starts Darcy.
"I know!" exclaims Marietta.
Then as we're about to walk up to Ravenclaw Tower, Marietta stopps so suddenly that we run into her. She is looking at something behind us. I turn around, half-expecting to see Luna, but find myself surprised to find Cedric Diggery behind me.
Cedric is probably the most attractive guy at Hogwarts. He has the most interesting eyes. Gray, yet they don't look drained of color. Flecks of different shades of gray color his eyes like a painting...like his eyes were painted by artists...maybe that's why they don't look so drained of color...because there are all different kinds of gray...different colors...
I lose all thought and almost don't realize that he is watching me intently, smiling at me with his perfect teeth, and full lips...
"Um..." he begins nervously, "Well I was..er...just wondering if..um...I could talk to you in private for a moment." He runs his fingers through his brown hair, his face bright red.
"Sure." I say in a startled voice that isn't mine. It's overly polite, and the one simple word that I uttered wasn't really by choice. It just slipped out. Like an instinctive thing. Like my lips had a mind entirely their own. Instinctive.
Marietta and Darcy look at me, excited.
"So we'll just go..." says Darcy and she starts dragging Marietta up the stairs.
"So," starts Cedric in a more confident voice now, "I was wondering if you could go to the ball with me."
I don't know what to say to him. I think about Harry and how I'd been hoping that he'd ask me. But it just seems unlikely that he even likes me though. He seems to like Hermione, and Ginny seems to like him a whole lot and I just can't see him ever choosing me over either of them.
"Yes," I say, "I'd love to go to the ball with you."
He smiles, still looking confident and now looks very pleased with himself, glad with my answer.
"So..." I start awkwardly, not knowing what to say or do next, "I...um...will just go get my books now."
"Oh...right...so I'll just see you later."
"Yeah..." I retreat up the stairs before I can say anything else stupid and pointless.
Most of my classes passed in a blur. I remember having a test in one of my classes, but I can't remember which subject, or what the test was about. I only remember that I was sure about most of to questions, except one that I'm sure I got wrong. I think it was asking something about goblin rebellions. If that's what the whole test was about than that must have been in History of Magic. Yeah, now that I think of it, I'm almost positive that it was in History of Magic...
I skipped lunch, mostly to avoid talking to Marietta and Darcy, and instead spent the whole time in the Ravenclaw common room, trying to study, but not taking in a word about how Dumbledore found the many uses of dragon's blood. Mostly I just read one line over and over, and eventually just gave up and stared out the window at the lake and mountains.
Now I'm in Defense Against the Dark Arts, taking another test, this one about different defensive spells. I'm on the last question.
Question 26: name the spell and describe the wand movements needed to disarm someone.
I know the spell is Expelliarmus, but I just can't remember the wand movements. Time ticks by and I try so hard to remember the wand movements, but it's quite hard to concentrate with Darcy continuously tapping me on the back of the head from behind me and whispering, "What happened? Did he ask you to the dance? Did he-"
"Miss McGee! Please refrain from speaking in my class, unless you would like to tell the whole class what you feel you so badly need to say!" growls Professor Moody, his magical eye swerving towards her angrily. She stops speaking at once.
Why can't I just remember this? It should be easy. I know the spell! Why can't I just remember the wand movements...
The bell rings loudly interrupting my train of thought. Frowning, I pick up my parchment and hand it to Professor Moody. Darcy and Marietta confront me at once.
"Where were you?!"
"What did he want?"
"What did he say?"
"What did you say?"
"He asked me to the ball!" I say quickly to stop the flow of prying questions, "And I said yes."
"Wow that's great!" exclaims Darcy, her enthusiasm genuine.
"Yeah that's great." says Marietta halfheartedly, obviously wishing that she had been asked to the ball before me.
We start to walk out of the classroom, when Harry suddenly appears in front of them, his eyes on me, apparently out of breath from running. "Er-Cho?" he starts, "Can I have a word with you?"
This cannot be happening! Why does this always have to happen to me. Darcy and Marietta giggle, along with some other girls just standing around, giggling even though they don't know what Darcy and Marietta are laughing about. Harry's face turns bright red, and I fake a look of calm that I usually see Luna wearing. "Okay," I say simply and hoping it comes out sounding normal, for I am trying my best to mask that I am freaking out right now. We walk a little ways away, away from the giggling girls and crowd of people just standing around. We are alone in the corner of the hall.
"Er," he starts nervously, "Wangoballwime?"
What did he just say? "Sorry?" I say.
"D'you—d'you want to go to the ball with me?" he asks, his face turning beet-red.
"Oh!" I say faking surprise, even though I was expecting this. I feel my face turn red. "Oh Harry, I'm really sorry. I've already said I'll go with someone else."
"Oh," he says, disappointment washing over his face, "Oh okay, no problem."
"I'm really sorry." I say, wishing now more than ever that I hadn't said yes to Cedric. I never thought that Harry would ask me, and I had thought when Cedric asked me, why not? Cedric is polite, good-looking, hard-working, I had thought that he would probably be the best date I would get. How wrong I was.
"That's okay," he said awkwardly.
We just stood there for a moment in an awkward silence. "Well-" I start.
"Yeah," says Harry.
"Well, 'bye," I say and start to walk away.
"Who're you going with?" he calls after me, before I can leave.
"Oh—Cedric. Cedric Diggory."
"Oh right," he says in a strangely formal voice.
I walk away, disappointment flowing through me. Why couldn't he have just asked me a few hours ago? Then I could be going with him, and then I would be happy...
I walk into the Great Hall, realizing that I'm incredibly late for dinner. I walk over to the Ravenclaw table and sit by Marietta, Darcy in front of me, Fleur for some reason isn't present.
"Where's Fleur?" I ask as a distraction from my disappointment.
"Dunno," says Darcy, looking around to the entrance as if expecting her to walk in, and then turns her head back, her straight butter-blonde hair swishing everywhere, "but what happened? You told him no right?"
"Yeah," I say quietly in a blank voice.
"Well you can do so much better that him anyways. And plus, you now have Cedric. Not only is he an incredibly attractive seventh year, but he's in the Triwizard Tournament too!" says Marietta enthusiastically.
Suddenly Fleur walks up and sits by in front of Marietta.
"Where were you?" asks Darcy at once.
"Ugh, ze leetle Weaby boy asked me to go to ze ball wiz 'im, and zen he just ran off!" says Fleur, "And anyveys I already 'ave a date."
"Who with?" asks Marietta casually, apparently she finds it no surprise that Fleur has a date already, but the when I get asked, her and Darcy make a big affair about it and act all surprised and excited and ask me all the details of every word that he said, faces that he made when he asked me , and hand gesture that the boy made throughout the whole confrontation.
"Roger Davies," says Fleur in a bored voice, " a Ravenclaw sixth year from Ogwarts. Zis food izn't nearly as good as food from Beauxbatons!" she complained.
I stuff a roll in my mouth whole, manors my last care in the world, and then leave the Great Hall. I travel up the stairs, into the Ravenclaw common room and go up to my dormitory, grateful for the fact that my homework isn't due tomorrow, and fall asleep the moment my head hits my pillow.