Author's Note: This time around, reviewers Occamy, Sam and Morgan Le Faye were joined by Bluejello (all of whom were very kind indeed). Now that Quidditch
season is over, you might think that there's no more action remaining.
Well, that all depends on your definition of "action," doesn't it? Read
on and see if you agree.
***
"Feel like talking?"
Cho's eyes remained closed for what seemed a long time before she opened them just enough to see a freckled face hovering a few feet from hers. She surveyed Ron in silence before closing her eyes again.
"Yeah," Ron said with the verbal equivalent of a shrug, "I know, silly question. If you wanted to talk, you wouldn't be hanging around all by yourself, 200 feet over the Quidditch field, would you?"
Ron eased his broomstick over so that he was beside Cho, their faces now less than a foot apart. With Harry's Firebolt safely stored away in his trunk, Ron was riding his old standby Cleansweep 7.
"If you want to fly away," Ron ventured, "I couldn't possibly catch you on this relic."
Cho neither moved nor spoke. The brisk Spring breeze ruffled her thick raven tresses and tugged at her school robes, which, flattened against her curves, amply displayed the charms which had sent more than one distracted Hogwarts student stumbling over some object he would have avoided easily were he looking straight ahead as he should have been.
"Can we go somewhere and talk?" Ron said. "Bit windy up here, innit?"
Still Cho did not respond. Ron eased his broomstick over until their shoulders were touching, their faces inches apart.
"Let's go down," Ron said quietly.
Cho did not resist when Ron took hold of the handle of her Comet 260 and guided the two of them down to the ground in a slow, angled descent. They skimmed a modest cluster of trees on the far side of Hagrid's cabin, Ron's long legs brushing the rustling leaves as they came to rest on the lush, verdant grass. Cho followed wordlessly as Ron found a pair of trees growing so closely together that he and Cho could sit with their backs against them and face each other as if they were sitting in chairs in an unnamed common room. Cho sat with her legs crossed and her head bent. Needing to keep his hands busy, Ron did not set his broom aside, as Cho had done, but lay it across his legs and fumbled with it distractedly.
"So, Ravenclaw got second place, I hear," Ron said in an attempt to break the awkward silence. Cho nodded once. "It all worked out, then." Another nod.
Ron began to fumble with the tail twigs of his broomstick, which he noted absently could do with a bit of grooming. Perhaps he would borrow Harry's broomstick servicing kit and tend to it later. It was only a school broom, he knew, but he respected brooms and liked to see them properly cared for. Lacking the requisite tools, he began to mechanically break off pieces of splintered twigs. When he spoke, his eyes did not leave his task.
"I'm -- sorry I kissed you," he said slowly. "Well, if it comes to that -- " his head rose just enough to permit him to cast Cho a meaningful glance, to which she seemed oblivious, " -- I'm not all that sorry -- you know?" A grin flickered momentarily across his face before retreating as quickly as it came. "I guess what I really mean is -- I'm sorry I kissed you for the wrong reason."
After moments that seemed without end, Cho lifted her head, her eyes finding and locking onto Ron's.
"I'm not Hermione," she said in a low, even voice. It was not an accusation, Ron knew; merely a statement. He nodded.
"And I'm not Cedric. As if I ever could be," he laughed shortly, not without a trace of bitterness. "He was everything I'll never be. Smart, handsome -- classy, I guess you'd say -- Prefect, Quidditch Captain -- probably would've been Head Boy this year if -- " Ron cut himself off, adding hastily, "Can you see me as Head Boy? The day that happens, Snape will wear a flowered bonnet with a stuffed vulture on top." He laughed, and to his welcome surprise, Cho emitted a soft, musical titter. But almost immediately, her laughter dissolved into quiet sobs. Without thinking, Ron leaped forward and folded his arms around Cho, who melted against him like soft clay. The shudders accompanying her tears finally subsided, and Ron felt her shoulders relax as her breathing slowed and became normal again.
"It's been a year," she said in a trembling whisper. "And I still look up every morning at breakfast and expect to see him walking into the Great Hall with a guilty smile on his face, telling me it's all been a -- a great mistake."
Employing a magic spell he had learned who knew where (probably from Hermione), Ron conjured a handkerchief from thin air and handed it to Cho.
"When we were working together," Cho began, wiping her eyes, "I never meant -- I mean -- I wasn't trying to make you into a -- "
"A second-class Cedric?" Ron said through a smile untainted by accusation.
Cho glanced at Ron for a moment before lowering her head. "You deserve better than that."
"So do you," Ron said. "Spending all this time with you, I can see why Harry fancied you for so long. You're a smashing girl, Cho. You deserve the best."
"I could say the same about you," Cho said. "From what I've seen of Hermione, it'll take a lot of witch to take her place. More than I've got, I fancy."
"You gone nutters?" Ron said, recoiling slightly. "You're the prettiest girl in school!"
"You didn't fall in love with Hermione because of her looks," Cho smiled. "There's a world of difference between being pretty and being beautiful."
Ron's face reddened slightly.
"And I didn't fall in love with Cedric because of his looks," Cho asserted. "Oh, I know what everyone called him: 'Pretty Boy Diggory.' But he was much more than that. He was good, and kind, and -- and -- classy, like you said. In fact, you and he shared a lot of qualities. You're more alike than you know. Maybe that's why..."
As Cho's voice trailed off, Ron said with a boldness that surprised both of them, "All of a sudden, I feel I want to kiss you again. Just to, uh, thank you, y'know -- for working so hard coaching me," Ron tried to laugh, but succeeded only in coughing awkwardly. "But there's a problem. When I close my eyes, I don't know if I'd be kissing you -- or Hermione."
"There's a simple solution to that," Cho said with equal boldness.
"What's that?"
"Don't close your eyes."
At first Ron thought she was joking. But there was no trace of mockery in her wide, obsidian eyes. Those eyes were so magnetic, in fact, that Ron thought it should be a crime punishable by a term in Azkaban to kiss her any other way than with eyes wide open. Yielding to that magnetic pull, Ron leaned in and, their eyes welded unblinkingly, drew her face to his. Their lips met, fused softly. The scene held for perhaps fifteen seconds.
Neither was sure afterwards which of them had cracked first. All they knew was that they were suddenly lying on their backs in the soft grass, giggling like First Years until their cheeks were wet with tears.
"Now that," Ron said as he stared up at the leafy branches tossing in the wind, "was about as romantic as feeding shredded lettuce to a flobberworm."
"Oh," Cho challenged through her fading laughter, "so I kiss like a flobberworm, do I?"
"A very sexy flobberworm," Ron said as he rose onto one elbow and surveyed Cho approvingly. "The poster girl of flobberdom."
Cho drew herself up into a more dignified sitting position. True to his nature, Ron merely rolled onto his stomach and propped his head in his hands, his elbows digging in to paint the black of his robes with patches of green and brown.
"I haven't laughed like that in ages," Cho said. "Not even in all those months Harry and I spent together.
"Well, Harry never kissed you, did he?" Ron said, shrugging as best he could under present conditions. "I mean, we Weasleys are all funny in our own special way. Fred and George make people laugh with jokes and pranks and stuff. For me, kissing does it every time."
Her shoulders pressing against the rough bark of the tree, Cho tilted her head back as she sighed very softly. "It's not been easy, this last year. I very nearly didn't get on the Hogwarts Express last September -- did you know that? But I saw Harry at the station, and he said something to me -- I don't remember what it was. He came to my compartment later, and we had a nice chat. We must have talked about everything in the world, Muggle as well as wizard. Everything except -- " She paused, drawing another breath. "He was the only one I could open up to. He understood the way no one else could. I don't know where I'd be right now if it wasn't for Harry. I owe him more than I can ever repay."
"Oh, you paid him back," Ron said. "With interest. You opened his eyes, made him see clearly what he'd been blind to for so long. If anything, he owes you."
"I'm sorry," Cho said so softly that the rustling leaves nearly swallowed her words. "I...I didn't mean to..."
"No," Ron said firmly, righting himself with great swings of his spider-like legs. "You did the right thing. I told Hermione last Christmas that it was past time that things were set on their proper course. I was never kidding myself. I always knew I was Hermione's second choice. It doen't matter who fancies who first. Hermione's the top of the charts. She deserves the best, not second best."
"That's such a contradiction in terms," Cho said with an analytical gleam in her eyes that reminded Ron uncannily of Hermione. "Take the House Championship. Gryffindor won, Ravenclaw came in second. Either you're second or you're best. You can't be both."
"I dunno," Ron returned thoughtfully. "Depends on your definition, dunnit? Take Hermione. In a way, she was Harry's second choice -- after you. But you ask him, he'll talk until next August about how she's the best thing that ever happened to him. Second. Best. Q.E.D."
"That's very deep," Cho said as she regarded Ron with equal parts of surprise and esteem.
"Well," Ron shrugged, "I'm no Confucius. Although," he added pensively, "Professor McGonagall might argue that I'm nearly always confused. Does that count?"
Cho's silent laughter seemed to come from both her lips and her eyes. "I don't think there are a dozen people in this school who have even heard of Confucius."
"Bet your last Galleon that one of them is Hermione," Ron grinned. "Spend enough time with her, you learn a lot of things you never expected -- whether you want to or not."
"I suspect she may have taught you more than a few things you're not even aware of yet," Cho observed sagely.
"Such as?"
"To think of others before yourself," Cho said. "You told Hermione that she belonged with Harry -- to hear Harry tell it, you threatened to Curse her if she didn't go to him. That's not the action of a selfish, immature boy. It's something a man would do. I imagine it must have been the most difficult thing you've ever done."
"You've no idea," Ron said. "On the other hand," he added, his features deepening perceptibly, "maybe you do. You may be the only one at Hogwarts who does know. I mean, you didn't choose to be separated from Cedric for the rest of your life. But you do know how it feels to remember something good you had, that you'll never have again. And you know how hard it is to hold those memories just far enough away so they don't crush you under their weight -- but not so far that you can't feel some of that goodness and be glad that you had it at all, if only for a little while."
Cho was looking at Ron as if she were seeing him for the first time. "I did love him," she said in an even, controlled voice. "He was my first."
"But not your last," Ron affirmed.
"As to that," Cho said wisely, "who can say? Tomorrow is always a closed door from the perspective of today."
"Just so you don't lock that door," Ron said.
"And are you going to follow your own advice, Mr. Ronald Confucius Weasley?" Cho smiled.
"Maybe."
"I hope so," Cho said. "Somewhere out there is a girl who might be your 'Second Best.' With the accent on best."
" 'Might be'," Ron quoted. "That and a thousand Galleons will get you a Firebolt."
"Life is filled with 'might be's'," Cho said. "Nothing is certain."
"Malfoy being an insufferable git?" Ron prompted with a hidden smirk.
"Okay," Cho conceded with a smile. "That one I'll give you. But most of life is an unending series of 'might be's.' Look at Harry and Hermione. How can they plan a life together, knowing all the while that Harry 'might be' killed by Voldemort tomorrow or the day after?"
Ron flinched involuntarily. He scrutinized Cho, who gave back a sharp look that said, "Cedric was murdered by Voldemort, and I'm damned if I'll cheapen his death by referring to his murderer as 'You-Know-Who'," as clearly as if she had spoken the words aloud.
"They can't hide from that 'might be'," Cho said. "They live with it. More to the point, they live."
"At least they've got each other," Ron said. "What do people like you and me do?"
"The best we can," Cho said. "Like everyone else, we just take it one day at a time. And when we're not strong enough to stand on our own -- we lean on our friends -- and trust them not to let us fall."
Ron snapped his fingers abruptly. "I just remembered. Harry and Hermione are going to Hogsmeade this afternoon -- well, everyone is, actually -- celebrating end of term, aren't they? Anyway, they invited me along to this bash at the Three Broomsticks, but, well -- I don't want to be odd man out, y'know? So I was thinking...maybe you'd like to come along, sort of even things out. Strictly speaking, it's Gryffindors only -- House Champions, Quidditch Cup, all that -- but you did coach me, so I'm sure they'll make an exception."
With the most delicate of smiles on her face, Cho observed, "That's very nice of you, Ron -- but do you really think Hermione would want the 'other woman' tagging along with her and Harry? It's different for you -- you three are best mates and all. But me? Now that's a third wing on the post-owl if ever there was one."
"Hmmm," Ron pondered. "Good point. Well, I guess that leaves us only one option."
"And that is -- ?"
Ron's ears went slightly pink. "Um...you and I could go together...just us."
"Ron?" Cho said with a gleam in her eyes and a smile teasing her rose-colored lips. "Are you asking me on a date?"
"Uh..." Ron said haltingly, "...I guess so. Maybe I'm not doing it right -- I mean, I've never really done it before."
"Get off!" Cho said. "You and Hermione dated for, what, four months or something?"
"Yeah...well..." Ron said somewhat clumsily. "It wasn't really -- I mean -- see, Hermione and I had already been out together loads of times. All during Third Year, when Harry didn't have permission to go to Hogsmeade, Hermione and I went together. Purely as friends, mind -- well, as far as she was concerned. Anyway, when we began to grow closer last term, we just sort of carried on the way we had been, doing things together like before -- only it wasn't like before, you know? Blimey, it's kinda hard to explain."
Cho was doing her best to suppress very polite laughter, thoroughly enjoying the pink tinge spreading over Ron's ears.
"So, then," Ron said. "You, uh...want to go? It, uh, won't be much." The crimson glow suffusing Ron's ears was now spreading across his face. His hands sought refuge in his pockets -- pockets which were empty of anything save those hands. "I don't...that is..."
"Oh, my!" Cho exclaimed, her eyes going wide. "I nearly forgot!" Seeing Ron's hands dip into his robes, Cho suddenly remembered something weighing heavily in a pocket of her robes. She extracted a small pouch and pushed it toward Ron. "Your winnings," she said brightly, forcing the pouch, from which a muted clinking sounded, into Ron's hands.
"My what?" Ron said, feeling the weight of the small pouch and striving instinctively to fathom its worth through his surprise and confusion.
"I made a bet with a group of Slytherin girls," Cho said. "With Harry out of the match, they were certain that Slytherin couldn't lose. I got fantastic odds."
"And they paid off?" Ron said with even greater surprise.
"Professor Flitwick held the wager," Cho said. "He's head of Ravenclaw, you know -- and between you and me, he's quite the gambler himself. I understand he's treating the entire staff on his winnings."
"But," Ron said dazedly, "this is yours. I didn't bet any money."
"But you caught the Snitch!" Cho said animatedly. "Without you, I wouldn't have won at all! So half of it is yours -- and I won't take no for an answer. You may not know it, but I helped Cedric prepare for his tasks in the Triwizard Tournament. I learned a lot of good hexes preparing him for the third task, and I'm not afraid to use them!"
Ron could not imagine the level of courage required for Cho to reference Cedric in this way while displaying no discernable trace of sorrow (though surely she still had enough of that and to spare). She'd have made a good Gryffindor, he mused. As he fumbled with the pouch's drawstring uncertainly, he said, "You still haven't answered my question."
"That's because I'm still waiting for YOU to ask properly," Cho replied teasingly.
Emboldened by the weight of the gold in his hand -- and the gratification of his role in its winning -- Ron stood up straight and said crisply, "Cho, would you do me the honor of accompanying me to Hogsmeade this afternoon?"
"I'd love to," Cho said in a soft voice in which Ron could detect no trace of condescension.
"Right," Ron said cheerfully. He looked at his watch. "Shall we meet in the Entrance Hall? Say, twelve-thirty?"
"Smashing," Cho smiled.
***
Author's Note: Just one more chapter to go. Follow Ron up to Gryffindor Tower where the remaining loose ends are tied up. Try not to be late. Remember, if you don't go in with Ron, the Fat Lady won't let you in without the password. (And if you meet Neville in the corridor, don't count on HIM to tell you.)
"Feel like talking?"
Cho's eyes remained closed for what seemed a long time before she opened them just enough to see a freckled face hovering a few feet from hers. She surveyed Ron in silence before closing her eyes again.
"Yeah," Ron said with the verbal equivalent of a shrug, "I know, silly question. If you wanted to talk, you wouldn't be hanging around all by yourself, 200 feet over the Quidditch field, would you?"
Ron eased his broomstick over so that he was beside Cho, their faces now less than a foot apart. With Harry's Firebolt safely stored away in his trunk, Ron was riding his old standby Cleansweep 7.
"If you want to fly away," Ron ventured, "I couldn't possibly catch you on this relic."
Cho neither moved nor spoke. The brisk Spring breeze ruffled her thick raven tresses and tugged at her school robes, which, flattened against her curves, amply displayed the charms which had sent more than one distracted Hogwarts student stumbling over some object he would have avoided easily were he looking straight ahead as he should have been.
"Can we go somewhere and talk?" Ron said. "Bit windy up here, innit?"
Still Cho did not respond. Ron eased his broomstick over until their shoulders were touching, their faces inches apart.
"Let's go down," Ron said quietly.
Cho did not resist when Ron took hold of the handle of her Comet 260 and guided the two of them down to the ground in a slow, angled descent. They skimmed a modest cluster of trees on the far side of Hagrid's cabin, Ron's long legs brushing the rustling leaves as they came to rest on the lush, verdant grass. Cho followed wordlessly as Ron found a pair of trees growing so closely together that he and Cho could sit with their backs against them and face each other as if they were sitting in chairs in an unnamed common room. Cho sat with her legs crossed and her head bent. Needing to keep his hands busy, Ron did not set his broom aside, as Cho had done, but lay it across his legs and fumbled with it distractedly.
"So, Ravenclaw got second place, I hear," Ron said in an attempt to break the awkward silence. Cho nodded once. "It all worked out, then." Another nod.
Ron began to fumble with the tail twigs of his broomstick, which he noted absently could do with a bit of grooming. Perhaps he would borrow Harry's broomstick servicing kit and tend to it later. It was only a school broom, he knew, but he respected brooms and liked to see them properly cared for. Lacking the requisite tools, he began to mechanically break off pieces of splintered twigs. When he spoke, his eyes did not leave his task.
"I'm -- sorry I kissed you," he said slowly. "Well, if it comes to that -- " his head rose just enough to permit him to cast Cho a meaningful glance, to which she seemed oblivious, " -- I'm not all that sorry -- you know?" A grin flickered momentarily across his face before retreating as quickly as it came. "I guess what I really mean is -- I'm sorry I kissed you for the wrong reason."
After moments that seemed without end, Cho lifted her head, her eyes finding and locking onto Ron's.
"I'm not Hermione," she said in a low, even voice. It was not an accusation, Ron knew; merely a statement. He nodded.
"And I'm not Cedric. As if I ever could be," he laughed shortly, not without a trace of bitterness. "He was everything I'll never be. Smart, handsome -- classy, I guess you'd say -- Prefect, Quidditch Captain -- probably would've been Head Boy this year if -- " Ron cut himself off, adding hastily, "Can you see me as Head Boy? The day that happens, Snape will wear a flowered bonnet with a stuffed vulture on top." He laughed, and to his welcome surprise, Cho emitted a soft, musical titter. But almost immediately, her laughter dissolved into quiet sobs. Without thinking, Ron leaped forward and folded his arms around Cho, who melted against him like soft clay. The shudders accompanying her tears finally subsided, and Ron felt her shoulders relax as her breathing slowed and became normal again.
"It's been a year," she said in a trembling whisper. "And I still look up every morning at breakfast and expect to see him walking into the Great Hall with a guilty smile on his face, telling me it's all been a -- a great mistake."
Employing a magic spell he had learned who knew where (probably from Hermione), Ron conjured a handkerchief from thin air and handed it to Cho.
"When we were working together," Cho began, wiping her eyes, "I never meant -- I mean -- I wasn't trying to make you into a -- "
"A second-class Cedric?" Ron said through a smile untainted by accusation.
Cho glanced at Ron for a moment before lowering her head. "You deserve better than that."
"So do you," Ron said. "Spending all this time with you, I can see why Harry fancied you for so long. You're a smashing girl, Cho. You deserve the best."
"I could say the same about you," Cho said. "From what I've seen of Hermione, it'll take a lot of witch to take her place. More than I've got, I fancy."
"You gone nutters?" Ron said, recoiling slightly. "You're the prettiest girl in school!"
"You didn't fall in love with Hermione because of her looks," Cho smiled. "There's a world of difference between being pretty and being beautiful."
Ron's face reddened slightly.
"And I didn't fall in love with Cedric because of his looks," Cho asserted. "Oh, I know what everyone called him: 'Pretty Boy Diggory.' But he was much more than that. He was good, and kind, and -- and -- classy, like you said. In fact, you and he shared a lot of qualities. You're more alike than you know. Maybe that's why..."
As Cho's voice trailed off, Ron said with a boldness that surprised both of them, "All of a sudden, I feel I want to kiss you again. Just to, uh, thank you, y'know -- for working so hard coaching me," Ron tried to laugh, but succeeded only in coughing awkwardly. "But there's a problem. When I close my eyes, I don't know if I'd be kissing you -- or Hermione."
"There's a simple solution to that," Cho said with equal boldness.
"What's that?"
"Don't close your eyes."
At first Ron thought she was joking. But there was no trace of mockery in her wide, obsidian eyes. Those eyes were so magnetic, in fact, that Ron thought it should be a crime punishable by a term in Azkaban to kiss her any other way than with eyes wide open. Yielding to that magnetic pull, Ron leaned in and, their eyes welded unblinkingly, drew her face to his. Their lips met, fused softly. The scene held for perhaps fifteen seconds.
Neither was sure afterwards which of them had cracked first. All they knew was that they were suddenly lying on their backs in the soft grass, giggling like First Years until their cheeks were wet with tears.
"Now that," Ron said as he stared up at the leafy branches tossing in the wind, "was about as romantic as feeding shredded lettuce to a flobberworm."
"Oh," Cho challenged through her fading laughter, "so I kiss like a flobberworm, do I?"
"A very sexy flobberworm," Ron said as he rose onto one elbow and surveyed Cho approvingly. "The poster girl of flobberdom."
Cho drew herself up into a more dignified sitting position. True to his nature, Ron merely rolled onto his stomach and propped his head in his hands, his elbows digging in to paint the black of his robes with patches of green and brown.
"I haven't laughed like that in ages," Cho said. "Not even in all those months Harry and I spent together.
"Well, Harry never kissed you, did he?" Ron said, shrugging as best he could under present conditions. "I mean, we Weasleys are all funny in our own special way. Fred and George make people laugh with jokes and pranks and stuff. For me, kissing does it every time."
Her shoulders pressing against the rough bark of the tree, Cho tilted her head back as she sighed very softly. "It's not been easy, this last year. I very nearly didn't get on the Hogwarts Express last September -- did you know that? But I saw Harry at the station, and he said something to me -- I don't remember what it was. He came to my compartment later, and we had a nice chat. We must have talked about everything in the world, Muggle as well as wizard. Everything except -- " She paused, drawing another breath. "He was the only one I could open up to. He understood the way no one else could. I don't know where I'd be right now if it wasn't for Harry. I owe him more than I can ever repay."
"Oh, you paid him back," Ron said. "With interest. You opened his eyes, made him see clearly what he'd been blind to for so long. If anything, he owes you."
"I'm sorry," Cho said so softly that the rustling leaves nearly swallowed her words. "I...I didn't mean to..."
"No," Ron said firmly, righting himself with great swings of his spider-like legs. "You did the right thing. I told Hermione last Christmas that it was past time that things were set on their proper course. I was never kidding myself. I always knew I was Hermione's second choice. It doen't matter who fancies who first. Hermione's the top of the charts. She deserves the best, not second best."
"That's such a contradiction in terms," Cho said with an analytical gleam in her eyes that reminded Ron uncannily of Hermione. "Take the House Championship. Gryffindor won, Ravenclaw came in second. Either you're second or you're best. You can't be both."
"I dunno," Ron returned thoughtfully. "Depends on your definition, dunnit? Take Hermione. In a way, she was Harry's second choice -- after you. But you ask him, he'll talk until next August about how she's the best thing that ever happened to him. Second. Best. Q.E.D."
"That's very deep," Cho said as she regarded Ron with equal parts of surprise and esteem.
"Well," Ron shrugged, "I'm no Confucius. Although," he added pensively, "Professor McGonagall might argue that I'm nearly always confused. Does that count?"
Cho's silent laughter seemed to come from both her lips and her eyes. "I don't think there are a dozen people in this school who have even heard of Confucius."
"Bet your last Galleon that one of them is Hermione," Ron grinned. "Spend enough time with her, you learn a lot of things you never expected -- whether you want to or not."
"I suspect she may have taught you more than a few things you're not even aware of yet," Cho observed sagely.
"Such as?"
"To think of others before yourself," Cho said. "You told Hermione that she belonged with Harry -- to hear Harry tell it, you threatened to Curse her if she didn't go to him. That's not the action of a selfish, immature boy. It's something a man would do. I imagine it must have been the most difficult thing you've ever done."
"You've no idea," Ron said. "On the other hand," he added, his features deepening perceptibly, "maybe you do. You may be the only one at Hogwarts who does know. I mean, you didn't choose to be separated from Cedric for the rest of your life. But you do know how it feels to remember something good you had, that you'll never have again. And you know how hard it is to hold those memories just far enough away so they don't crush you under their weight -- but not so far that you can't feel some of that goodness and be glad that you had it at all, if only for a little while."
Cho was looking at Ron as if she were seeing him for the first time. "I did love him," she said in an even, controlled voice. "He was my first."
"But not your last," Ron affirmed.
"As to that," Cho said wisely, "who can say? Tomorrow is always a closed door from the perspective of today."
"Just so you don't lock that door," Ron said.
"And are you going to follow your own advice, Mr. Ronald Confucius Weasley?" Cho smiled.
"Maybe."
"I hope so," Cho said. "Somewhere out there is a girl who might be your 'Second Best.' With the accent on best."
" 'Might be'," Ron quoted. "That and a thousand Galleons will get you a Firebolt."
"Life is filled with 'might be's'," Cho said. "Nothing is certain."
"Malfoy being an insufferable git?" Ron prompted with a hidden smirk.
"Okay," Cho conceded with a smile. "That one I'll give you. But most of life is an unending series of 'might be's.' Look at Harry and Hermione. How can they plan a life together, knowing all the while that Harry 'might be' killed by Voldemort tomorrow or the day after?"
Ron flinched involuntarily. He scrutinized Cho, who gave back a sharp look that said, "Cedric was murdered by Voldemort, and I'm damned if I'll cheapen his death by referring to his murderer as 'You-Know-Who'," as clearly as if she had spoken the words aloud.
"They can't hide from that 'might be'," Cho said. "They live with it. More to the point, they live."
"At least they've got each other," Ron said. "What do people like you and me do?"
"The best we can," Cho said. "Like everyone else, we just take it one day at a time. And when we're not strong enough to stand on our own -- we lean on our friends -- and trust them not to let us fall."
Ron snapped his fingers abruptly. "I just remembered. Harry and Hermione are going to Hogsmeade this afternoon -- well, everyone is, actually -- celebrating end of term, aren't they? Anyway, they invited me along to this bash at the Three Broomsticks, but, well -- I don't want to be odd man out, y'know? So I was thinking...maybe you'd like to come along, sort of even things out. Strictly speaking, it's Gryffindors only -- House Champions, Quidditch Cup, all that -- but you did coach me, so I'm sure they'll make an exception."
With the most delicate of smiles on her face, Cho observed, "That's very nice of you, Ron -- but do you really think Hermione would want the 'other woman' tagging along with her and Harry? It's different for you -- you three are best mates and all. But me? Now that's a third wing on the post-owl if ever there was one."
"Hmmm," Ron pondered. "Good point. Well, I guess that leaves us only one option."
"And that is -- ?"
Ron's ears went slightly pink. "Um...you and I could go together...just us."
"Ron?" Cho said with a gleam in her eyes and a smile teasing her rose-colored lips. "Are you asking me on a date?"
"Uh..." Ron said haltingly, "...I guess so. Maybe I'm not doing it right -- I mean, I've never really done it before."
"Get off!" Cho said. "You and Hermione dated for, what, four months or something?"
"Yeah...well..." Ron said somewhat clumsily. "It wasn't really -- I mean -- see, Hermione and I had already been out together loads of times. All during Third Year, when Harry didn't have permission to go to Hogsmeade, Hermione and I went together. Purely as friends, mind -- well, as far as she was concerned. Anyway, when we began to grow closer last term, we just sort of carried on the way we had been, doing things together like before -- only it wasn't like before, you know? Blimey, it's kinda hard to explain."
Cho was doing her best to suppress very polite laughter, thoroughly enjoying the pink tinge spreading over Ron's ears.
"So, then," Ron said. "You, uh...want to go? It, uh, won't be much." The crimson glow suffusing Ron's ears was now spreading across his face. His hands sought refuge in his pockets -- pockets which were empty of anything save those hands. "I don't...that is..."
"Oh, my!" Cho exclaimed, her eyes going wide. "I nearly forgot!" Seeing Ron's hands dip into his robes, Cho suddenly remembered something weighing heavily in a pocket of her robes. She extracted a small pouch and pushed it toward Ron. "Your winnings," she said brightly, forcing the pouch, from which a muted clinking sounded, into Ron's hands.
"My what?" Ron said, feeling the weight of the small pouch and striving instinctively to fathom its worth through his surprise and confusion.
"I made a bet with a group of Slytherin girls," Cho said. "With Harry out of the match, they were certain that Slytherin couldn't lose. I got fantastic odds."
"And they paid off?" Ron said with even greater surprise.
"Professor Flitwick held the wager," Cho said. "He's head of Ravenclaw, you know -- and between you and me, he's quite the gambler himself. I understand he's treating the entire staff on his winnings."
"But," Ron said dazedly, "this is yours. I didn't bet any money."
"But you caught the Snitch!" Cho said animatedly. "Without you, I wouldn't have won at all! So half of it is yours -- and I won't take no for an answer. You may not know it, but I helped Cedric prepare for his tasks in the Triwizard Tournament. I learned a lot of good hexes preparing him for the third task, and I'm not afraid to use them!"
Ron could not imagine the level of courage required for Cho to reference Cedric in this way while displaying no discernable trace of sorrow (though surely she still had enough of that and to spare). She'd have made a good Gryffindor, he mused. As he fumbled with the pouch's drawstring uncertainly, he said, "You still haven't answered my question."
"That's because I'm still waiting for YOU to ask properly," Cho replied teasingly.
Emboldened by the weight of the gold in his hand -- and the gratification of his role in its winning -- Ron stood up straight and said crisply, "Cho, would you do me the honor of accompanying me to Hogsmeade this afternoon?"
"I'd love to," Cho said in a soft voice in which Ron could detect no trace of condescension.
"Right," Ron said cheerfully. He looked at his watch. "Shall we meet in the Entrance Hall? Say, twelve-thirty?"
"Smashing," Cho smiled.
Author's Note: Just one more chapter to go. Follow Ron up to Gryffindor Tower where the remaining loose ends are tied up. Try not to be late. Remember, if you don't go in with Ron, the Fat Lady won't let you in without the password. (And if you meet Neville in the corridor, don't count on HIM to tell you.)