So, for the second season in a row, I am the Seeker of Puddlemere United for the QLFC. This collection will be for all the resulting stories, a minimum of 13, presuming nothing comes up that prevents me from participating.

This is for the Practice Round: 80s Throwback. As Seeker, my prompt was the poem from Shel Silverstein that can be found below.

Also for Empress's Hand, I hope you like it!

Word Count (without AN and poem): 1,120


Alone


There's a light on in the attic.

Thought the house is dark and shuttered,

I can see a flickerin' flutter,

And I know what it's about.

There's a light on in the attic.

I can see it from the outside.

And I know you're on the inside... lookin' out.

~Shel Silverstein


Alone. Completely and utterly alone.

That's how she felt after Cedric died. Like there was no one else on this planet that shared her pain, no one to support her, no one that truly cared.

Logically, she knew that this wasn't entirely correct, but since when did the rules of logic ever apply to emotions, particularly those like grief?

So, on an intellectual level, Cho understood that there were people, like her family and her closest friends, that were willing to support her, but Cho just wanted to be alone.

And so she removed herself from her family that summer, choosing to spend her time wandering around aimlessly or reading alone in the attic, as opposed to the many trips her parents had planned to make with her and her siblings.

They understood that Cho needed some time to herself, and let her stay home alone while they drove to parks and shows with her siblings. They made sure that she took care of herself and spent at least a hour or two in total every day talking to someone else, but other than that they gave her the space she needed.

And Cho was very thankful for it. She knew that she would only drag everyone's mood down if she were to tag along, which was not something she would want to do. It wasn't her siblings' fault that she was suffering, after all. It wouldn't do for her to ruin their holiday as well.

As a consequence, she became a lot more familiar with the attic, the place where she was most likely to remain undisturbed.

They had a rather nice attic, if she may say so. There was a big window that allowed her to overlook the small river behind her house and the apple and cherry trees that were scattered on the other side of it. There weren't quite enough of them to call it a wood or forest, but there woulödn't be many more trees until such a description would work.

Cho liked to sit in the corner out that window and look outside for hours upon hours, letting her thoughts and mind wander as she observed the wildlife or read a book. More often than not, she had a blanket draped over her and a cup of tea or hot chocolate nearby.

It made the pain bearable. Usually, at least.

There was no simple way for the pain to stop, no off switch for her emotions or something, but Cho knew that she had a right to cry.

Her boyfriend, her sweet, wonderful boyfriend, had died. Cedric was gone, no longer with them and there wasn't even a good reason for it. Cedric hadn't done anything—he never would, that just wasn't him—he had simply been there from what she knew.

It wasn't fair or right, that much was obvious. She had heard before that You-Know-Who's regime had been painful and that you didn't know who you could trust, but she had never truly understood what it meant.

Now she did and she didn't like the implications and consequences at all. If Cedric—possibly the sweetest boy that had attended Hogwarts last year, a true Hufflepuff in every sense of the word—could die without warning, then so could she. So could her siblings, her parents, her friends. Everyone could be taken from them at a moment's notice.

And that prospect was nothing if not terrifying. Somehow, most of her friends still failed to understand that concept, despite the prime example they had been given. Maybe they didn't want to think about it—which would be understandable, if she was being honest, but still she needed someone to talk to about this. Her siblings were out of the equation without a second thought—she was the oldest, she couldn't do that to them—and catching her parents without a risk of any of her siblings hearing bordered on the impossible.

She would talk to Marietta, the one friend that seemed to understand, but she knew that her friend's mom was in danger of losing her job at the Ministry and Cho didn't want to stress her any more.

So she suffered alone. Alone, in the attic. With only her books to support her, to take her mind away from the worries and grief.

One evening, not far into the holidays, she again sat there, at her usual spot. The sun was already setting and Cho had lightened a candle to be able to read, but she ended up staring out of the window instead.

Thus, she was able to spot the snow white owl that was headed in her direction fairly quickly. At first she suspected that it was a letter for her parents or one of her siblings, but when the owl didn't head downwards as it got nearer to the house, Cho knew that the letter was intended for her. Owls had that weird ability to tell where people were located.

She was only knew one person with a snowy owl that had any reason to contact her. Harry Potter. The boy who had seen Cedric die. The only one who had that wasn't also part of the reason that it happened.

Cho opened the window for the owl to get through and took the letter from her as soon as the animal landed in front of her.

Hello Cho,

It's me, Harry. I hope that you don't mind me writing to you, but I thought that maybe you understand what is going through my head.

Or maybe not, since I'm not even sure I do.

To be honest, I wouldn't normally do this, but Hermione and Ron aren't really replying to my letters and over that past year I've learned that it's not good to bottle everything up until it explodes, figuratively speaking.

Since I could never consider going to my relatives with this outside of a joke and, as I mentioned, Ron and Hermione aren't replying, I needed someone else to talk to, someone who would understand.

If you don't want to talk about this with me, it's fine, but you were the first person to come to my mind. Even if you don't want to talk about this, could you please write a reply, so that I know?

Awaiting a reply,

Harry

Cho wiped the single tear that had escaped away with her sleeve and turned towards the owl.

"Mind waiting overnight? This reply might be a bit longer."

The owl gave an affirmative hoot and somehow managed to look approving.

With a small smile on her face, Cho began to look for a quill and some parchment. Maybe she had found someone to talk to. Maybe she wouldn't need to be alone any longer.


Please tell me what you think!