A/N: So, I signed up for a challenge called the "We Are Never, Ever Getting Together Challenge", which is a challenge involving unexpected and/or underappreciated pairings, and I decided to sign up with Cho/Blaise, because we just don't know these two as well as we could. This is my attempt to rectify that and this challenge provides that opportunity.
Disclaimer: If I were JK Rowling, I wouldn't need to write fanfiction, would I? Alas, I have not written a best-seller series, I have not changed countless millions of lives for the better, and I am not one of the richest women in the world. I have a cat, though.
When Blaise looked at her, he saw laughter, light, warmth, love.
So he hated her, from the day they first met and had resolved to hate her until the day he died. But he didn't.
He couldn't.
At first, it was simply a mistake. He had been walking quietly, so as not to disturb the people curled away in the nooks and crannies of the large castle, and he had turned down a deserted corridor.
He needed somewhere to think.
He hadn't meant to interrupt Cho's silent sobs that cold October evening, and so, he retreated into the darkness of the shadow, watching as the moonlight illuminated the tears on her porcelain face. He decided then that she was beautiful. Despite his father's voice in head, stern and admonishing, he couldn't help it.
After a few days, curiosity got the best of him.
He decided to discover her, to learn her secrets, to learn her innermost thoughts.
He found himself wandering the halls more often during the ensuing days, waiting anxiously to catch a glimpse of her face in the daylight, so he could see if she really was as beautiful in the daylight as she was by the silver light of the moon.
One evening, he was sitting on the cold stone floor, his back resting against the wall as he flipped through his Divination book, trying to study. Half-tempted to toss the book in the bin, he scowled and tried to concentrate.
It was a crock, everyone knew that. He snorted at the thought.
A voice startled him out of his intent concentration, and he looked up, startled to find the dark-haired angel standing in front of him. Blaise, trying to be as uncaring as possible, let his eyes drift back down to his reading, showing her that he had no interest. A hand, small and lithe snatched the book away, forcing his eyes upward. His dark eyes found hers and they stared at each other for awhile, scowls painting both of their faces. The distant flickering of a torch on the wall was the only light in the corridor— her eyes looked like pinpricks of light, as if the light in her— the good— was seeping through. Blaise softened his gaze, reaching out his hand as though to touch hers, but instead, he grasped the book, sliding it from her grasp.
"Why do you follow me? I see you, you know." Her voice was hard, and cold, so unlike the Cho Chang he saw crying in the corners of the solitary halls of Hogwarts.
"You're the Ravenclaw here, you figure it out." Blaise sneered as he moved to gather his things and leave. Turning away, he began to walk away, but her next question stopped him.
"Is it so that you can tell all of your little friends what a weak, little child I am?" Cho asked. There was no taunting strain in her voice, no hurt.
She was simply curious.
As honest as she was, Blaise suddenly felt the need to be just as honest as she, turned and replied: "Because you make me better. Even if just for a minute, even for a second, when I see you, I want to be a better man."
"Why?"
"Because, you don't deserve to be like this, trapped in your own grief, constrained by the whispers of others. It's not fair. You shouldn't be told who you are." Blaise took a breath and noticed that Cho had gotten closer to him.
"You don't deserve to be like me." He murmured, looking at her.
He could smell her soap.
"And you do?"
Blaise smirked. "I s'pose we're both misunderstood, then."
Cho smiled, and it was like heaven.
Perhaps he didn't hate her after all.
A/N: Not my best, I know, but it's what I've got. Tell me what you think!