She loved the feeling of the wind in her hair. He loved the feeling of the broomstick soaring. She couldn't stand waiting. He couldn't get up the courage.

"Cho?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Did you really want to go with him to the Yule Ball?"

"I didn't think so. But I couldn't wait for you. I couldn't tell if you actually liked me or if you like that Hermione Granger."

"Didn't think so? So you don't regret it?"

"I'm sorry Harry but I really don't. People really underestimate Hufflepuffs. You are strong and brave, and rash. He is caring, and loyal, and can always find my earing no matter where I lost it. Not that that matters but you know… the little things about people. I think the question I should be asking you was whether you liked me or not. Did you know of the little things about me or did you just like me for my looks?"

Harry blushed a deep red; he didn't want Cho to know just how much he had paid attention to the older girl. He didn't want her to know how he knew that she rubbed her pointer finger against her lips when she was thinking or how she always brought the left corner of her lip inside her mouth when she was nervous. How whenever she had to speak in front of people she would constantly pull her hair out of her face. That she loved strawberries more than anything unless they were in jam because then the seeds just got stuck in her teeth and the texture didn't match. She could eat an entire pound of cottage cheese and not realize it and then not care and go have a yogurt. She would always scrape the whipped cream off a cream pie and eat the first and if it was lemon meringue she would carefully peel the top off before eating the pie from the crust to the point, pick up that last bite, bite the crust off the bottom, pop the bit of filling into her mouth and then proceed to eat the top. Sure most of it involved food but they were in different houses and different years. He couldn't tell her any of that. He couldn't tell her he loved the way her eyes lit up when she got a new book in the library. Couldn't tell her that her shy smile whenever someone called her pretty made him want to smile too. Who can tell a girl all that? A girl on the eve of her wedding. It would be better to tell her he didn't notice anything. That he just thought she was pretty. He couldn't have her having doubts. She shouldn't have regrets, even if he did.

"Harry?"

"I'm sorry, Cho, I was a stupid teenage boy ruled by his hormones. You were a very pretty girl and I was an insecure fourteen year-old. I shouldn't have brought up the past in the first place. You wanna go for one last ride around the quidditch pitch as a single woman? No Oliver here to tell me to knock you off your broom."

"Ok" She tried to hide the hurt in her voice. She couldn't let him know that she did not want to marry Cedric. How could she tell him that she wished she had kissed him at the one DA meeting under the mistletoe instead of just kissing him on the cheek? How could she tell him that she didn't care about Cedric any more than as a dance partner? How could she tell him that when he smiled she felt like she was flying? She thought all this as she mounted her broom. She couldn't make him feel bad for not loving her as she loved him though. She loved him too much and wanted him to be happy. Even if she wasn't.
So the two flew around, stealing glances at each other when the other wasn't looking, and wishing that something could be different. Wishing that Harry has asked sooner. Wishing that Cho had known how he felt. Wishing. Cho wished for Harry to be happy, and Harry wished for Cho to be happy. Neither one knowing that that could never happen without the other.