AN: I wanted an explanation for why Hermione turned down the chance to speak at her graduation. This is what came out. Takes place the day of the graduation ceremony, sometime during the reception afterwards.
I know that in canon Cho was a year ahead of Harry, but for the purposes of this story (and eventually a related fic I'm writing that tells Cho's story), I changed it so that she is in Harry's year.
She stares at her reflection in the bathroom mirror and takes a deep, shaky breath. Giving that speech had been one of the hardest things she'd ever done, and she still can feel the adrenaline of it all flowing through her body.
The door opens, and she turns at once, her hand reaching for her wand before realizing the girl entering means her no harm. "Hi," she says.
The bushy-haired girl smiles at her before she moves to enter a stall. Cho turns back to the mirror, absent-mindedly adjusting her hairdo.
"That was a brilliant speech you gave, Cho," Hermione says.
Cho turns her head to look at the stall door. "Everyone keeps saying that. Do you really think it was good?" She hears a flush and then Hermione steps out. "I do," she replies in a gentle tone.
Cho looks away, somewhat embarrassed at the praise. "I don't know why McGonagall chose me to speak. You should have been the one, you had the highest marks."
For a long moment the only sound is of running water as Hermione washes and dries her hands. Cho watches her, unsure what else to say. At last, the other girl looks at her. "I was asked to speak. But I turned it down. And I recommended you," she admits.
Cho's eyes widen. "Why?"
"My story has been told before," Hermione says. "And I believe that history should remember the stories of the true survivors of the war."
"But you – " Cho protests, but the other girl doesn't let her finish.
"My story is essentially the same as Harry's. And his story will be told and retold for centuries to come. But he wasn't the only one to be affected by the war. You were here, at Hogwarts. Your story, and the stories of each student here, and the stories of your parents – these are the stories that will be forgotten. Unless they are told."
Cho nods slowly. "Thank you. I didn't – I was terrified of sharing my story. But I'm glad I did."
Hermione holds her gaze for a long moment before giving her arm a comforting squeeze and leaving the bathroom. Cho looks after her, a new respect for the other girl washing over her.
~fin~