Disclaimer: It all belongs to J.K. Rowling.
A/N: Spoiler warning for OotP! Anyway, I know this chapter is short, but it's the second one in one day, so I hope you appreciate it! Please read and review.
Cho Chang peered at her clock through sleepy eyes. 2:15 a.m. She rolled over, trying various positions, but could not seem to get back to sleep. She didn't need to guess why: a certain messy-haired, green-eyed someone was weighing heavily on her mind.
Why did she always seem to get so angry with him? All she wanted was for him to like her. But Cho thought she knew the answer to that too.
It was because of Cedric. She felt guilty. He had plainly adored her, and she him. But he was dead. People had told her to move on, but Cho couldn't help worrying that she had moved on too much. She couldn't help that she had feelings for Harry so soon after Cedric's death; she just didn't want to admit that she liked him a lot, perhaps more than she had ever liked Cedric. So she looked for the little things Harry did wrong and got angry: angry with herself for liking him so much, angry with Harry for being so likable, and told herself she was angry on Marietta's behalf. Or because Harry didn't want to talk about Cedric.
So Cho distanced herself from Harry. She started going out with Michael Corner, half hoping she could lose her guilt because she wasn't at all serious about Michael, half hoping to make Harry jealous. But it had been obvious to her on the train ride home that it wasn't working; she had looked at Harry, and he at her. She blushed. He didn't.
He had, instead, looked at her almost. . . . .well, not indifferently, not as if he didn't care, but as though he had something much more important to care about now. Another girl? Somehow Cho didn't think so. She had recognized the look in his eyes very well.
It was the one she had worn for a long time after Cedric died.
"Who did you lose, Harry?" Cho whispered quietly. "Did it hurt you? I know it did." A single, silent tear slid down her cheek. She hugged her pillow to her. Why had she gotten so mad at him? He had lost someone, and Cho was willing to bet that the loss was somehow connected to Lord Voldemort. He needed someone, someone who understood what it was like. Someone who understood that one second you need to talk about it and another you just want to be left alone. He needed someone who knew that you had to be angry and sad and scared and alone before you can start to get any better.
He needed her.
And she wasn't there.
Cho knew she could tell him what it was like to be alone and lost and that he would not be like that forever. She knew that she could hold him while he held her, letting him feel strong and yet comforting and protecting him at the same time. She knew that she could love him no matter what.
But he was miles away, alone and heartbroken, thinking she didn't like him. And maybe he didn't like her anymore. Maybe there was nothing she could do. Maybe she had ruined everything for him and for herself that last time she had shouted at him. And maybe she shouldn't be feeling this way at all. Maybe she should turn to her grief and allow it to swallow her. In her sadness there was no confusion. But there was no hope either. And Cho knew that was what she needed. Hope. Hope that Harry was not hurting too badly. Hope that he would someday love her. Hope that he was not lost and alone like she had once been.
"Oh Harry," she whispered in her anguish, the tears flowing now. "I'm so sorry!"
Cho Chang did not sleep that night, or the night after that, or the night after that. Because a certain messy-haired, green-eyed, lost and alone someone was haunting her mind.
A/N: Spoiler warning for OotP! Anyway, I know this chapter is short, but it's the second one in one day, so I hope you appreciate it! Please read and review.
Cho Chang peered at her clock through sleepy eyes. 2:15 a.m. She rolled over, trying various positions, but could not seem to get back to sleep. She didn't need to guess why: a certain messy-haired, green-eyed someone was weighing heavily on her mind.
Why did she always seem to get so angry with him? All she wanted was for him to like her. But Cho thought she knew the answer to that too.
It was because of Cedric. She felt guilty. He had plainly adored her, and she him. But he was dead. People had told her to move on, but Cho couldn't help worrying that she had moved on too much. She couldn't help that she had feelings for Harry so soon after Cedric's death; she just didn't want to admit that she liked him a lot, perhaps more than she had ever liked Cedric. So she looked for the little things Harry did wrong and got angry: angry with herself for liking him so much, angry with Harry for being so likable, and told herself she was angry on Marietta's behalf. Or because Harry didn't want to talk about Cedric.
So Cho distanced herself from Harry. She started going out with Michael Corner, half hoping she could lose her guilt because she wasn't at all serious about Michael, half hoping to make Harry jealous. But it had been obvious to her on the train ride home that it wasn't working; she had looked at Harry, and he at her. She blushed. He didn't.
He had, instead, looked at her almost. . . . .well, not indifferently, not as if he didn't care, but as though he had something much more important to care about now. Another girl? Somehow Cho didn't think so. She had recognized the look in his eyes very well.
It was the one she had worn for a long time after Cedric died.
"Who did you lose, Harry?" Cho whispered quietly. "Did it hurt you? I know it did." A single, silent tear slid down her cheek. She hugged her pillow to her. Why had she gotten so mad at him? He had lost someone, and Cho was willing to bet that the loss was somehow connected to Lord Voldemort. He needed someone, someone who understood what it was like. Someone who understood that one second you need to talk about it and another you just want to be left alone. He needed someone who knew that you had to be angry and sad and scared and alone before you can start to get any better.
He needed her.
And she wasn't there.
Cho knew she could tell him what it was like to be alone and lost and that he would not be like that forever. She knew that she could hold him while he held her, letting him feel strong and yet comforting and protecting him at the same time. She knew that she could love him no matter what.
But he was miles away, alone and heartbroken, thinking she didn't like him. And maybe he didn't like her anymore. Maybe there was nothing she could do. Maybe she had ruined everything for him and for herself that last time she had shouted at him. And maybe she shouldn't be feeling this way at all. Maybe she should turn to her grief and allow it to swallow her. In her sadness there was no confusion. But there was no hope either. And Cho knew that was what she needed. Hope. Hope that Harry was not hurting too badly. Hope that he would someday love her. Hope that he was not lost and alone like she had once been.
"Oh Harry," she whispered in her anguish, the tears flowing now. "I'm so sorry!"
Cho Chang did not sleep that night, or the night after that, or the night after that. Because a certain messy-haired, green-eyed, lost and alone someone was haunting her mind.