*Disclaimer*: nope, don't own Harry Potter (if I did, I probably wouldn't
be here now), probably never will, nor am I making any money out of this,
so please don't sue me
*A/N*: Hey all! This is just a one-shot piece. I'm thinking about making it into a short fic from Cho's pov, etc. but let me see how you all feel ^.^;
I wonder, she thought staring at the clear, polished glass, an unpainted fingernail slowly tracing the silver twists of the ring that adorned her left thumb, I wonder if they see what I see.
A girl that was so often classified as beautiful sat, sprawled on a blue- brocaded chair, contemplating the image that reflected itself in the mirror opposite her. Her petite athlete's body was relaxed but tensed, like a panther's patient pose before its prey. Her dark hair, the color of the night sky, fell in smooth lines to her shoulder blades, framing her small face and accentuating her delicate bone structure. A straight bridge strengthened her small, curved nose. Intelligence glittered in the black depths of her expressive eyes. She'd received several compliments about her flawless mane of hair, but still considered her eyes to be her best attribute. Though not piercing, as some were, they were calm and steady.
With cat like grace, she rose and spun on the ball of her right foot, keeping her eye on the mirror, so that in one swift motion, she stared sideways at her reflection. Black cloth outlined her model-thin upper body, while the printed white word "Ravenclaw" spelled itself out down her navy-colored sweat-pant's leg.
A smirk of derision curved her naturally rosy, heart-shaped lips as she snatched a blanket up from her bed and draped it over the vanity mirror. How can they all just see my face? They never seem to look beyond it. Never. Her fists clenched and she reached up a hand to finger the darkened metal sign that hung at her neck.
"Cho?" a familiar voice asked.
She turned, a bright smile automatically manufacturing itself. "Yes?"
"Davies sent me to fetch you. He said you were late to quidditch practice."
"Oh, blimey. I completely forgot. Thank you, Padma."
"No problem, Cho." The girl's head ducked back out of the doorway and Cho's smile slipped and faded. She sighed and moved to her bureau, where a worn broomstick rested against the solid wood. Picking the broom handle up, she hefted the slight weight to her other hand as she swept up her hair into a quick ponytail and headed out of the room.
Her smooth gait remained unfaltered though everyone she passed in the halls waved to her and called to her cheerfully. Inwardly grimacing as she smiled back, Cho kept her momentum steady and evaded most of the obligatory small talk that she used to relish in. She finally made it out and down to the quidditch field, where an over-inflated Davies stalked up to her and gave her the lecture. Cho rolled her eyes and mounted her broom after he was done, not saying a word. She wasn't in the mood to deal with her obsessed, womanizer of a captain, or anyone else for that matter.
Up in the air, the wind brushed her cheeks as she sped across the field. Some of her tension released itself at the euphoria of the feeling of flying, but her constant companion of grief tugged her back to earth. Flying always reminded her of him.
He would never again, join her in their flying excursions or mock-quidditch matches. Seeker against seeker. Her eyes burned as she felt the sting of tears form.
Dead. Why does he have to be dead?!
*A/N*: Hey all! This is just a one-shot piece. I'm thinking about making it into a short fic from Cho's pov, etc. but let me see how you all feel ^.^;
I wonder, she thought staring at the clear, polished glass, an unpainted fingernail slowly tracing the silver twists of the ring that adorned her left thumb, I wonder if they see what I see.
A girl that was so often classified as beautiful sat, sprawled on a blue- brocaded chair, contemplating the image that reflected itself in the mirror opposite her. Her petite athlete's body was relaxed but tensed, like a panther's patient pose before its prey. Her dark hair, the color of the night sky, fell in smooth lines to her shoulder blades, framing her small face and accentuating her delicate bone structure. A straight bridge strengthened her small, curved nose. Intelligence glittered in the black depths of her expressive eyes. She'd received several compliments about her flawless mane of hair, but still considered her eyes to be her best attribute. Though not piercing, as some were, they were calm and steady.
With cat like grace, she rose and spun on the ball of her right foot, keeping her eye on the mirror, so that in one swift motion, she stared sideways at her reflection. Black cloth outlined her model-thin upper body, while the printed white word "Ravenclaw" spelled itself out down her navy-colored sweat-pant's leg.
A smirk of derision curved her naturally rosy, heart-shaped lips as she snatched a blanket up from her bed and draped it over the vanity mirror. How can they all just see my face? They never seem to look beyond it. Never. Her fists clenched and she reached up a hand to finger the darkened metal sign that hung at her neck.
"Cho?" a familiar voice asked.
She turned, a bright smile automatically manufacturing itself. "Yes?"
"Davies sent me to fetch you. He said you were late to quidditch practice."
"Oh, blimey. I completely forgot. Thank you, Padma."
"No problem, Cho." The girl's head ducked back out of the doorway and Cho's smile slipped and faded. She sighed and moved to her bureau, where a worn broomstick rested against the solid wood. Picking the broom handle up, she hefted the slight weight to her other hand as she swept up her hair into a quick ponytail and headed out of the room.
Her smooth gait remained unfaltered though everyone she passed in the halls waved to her and called to her cheerfully. Inwardly grimacing as she smiled back, Cho kept her momentum steady and evaded most of the obligatory small talk that she used to relish in. She finally made it out and down to the quidditch field, where an over-inflated Davies stalked up to her and gave her the lecture. Cho rolled her eyes and mounted her broom after he was done, not saying a word. She wasn't in the mood to deal with her obsessed, womanizer of a captain, or anyone else for that matter.
Up in the air, the wind brushed her cheeks as she sped across the field. Some of her tension released itself at the euphoria of the feeling of flying, but her constant companion of grief tugged her back to earth. Flying always reminded her of him.
He would never again, join her in their flying excursions or mock-quidditch matches. Seeker against seeker. Her eyes burned as she felt the sting of tears form.
Dead. Why does he have to be dead?!