Disclaimer: SHArice doesn't own Harry Potter.

Author's Note: Many thanks to those who reviewed! I am extremely sorry if there is difficulty distinguishing dream from reality. I'll try to clarify those parts. Secondly, Harry is totally incapable of playing the flute up to this point. Cho didn't hear him at all. She merely walked in on him and saw an image of someone else that was singing and performing what appeared to be the Concerto Charm. Thanks indigal for your input.

Writing fluff is not my business, so if you're looking for a one-shot make-up between Harry and Cho, then I advise you to move on. Cedric's influence is not entirely forgotten and will be exerted to a great pain-staking extension within the next part of the story.

Like always, reviews are welcome. Happy reading!

ooooooo

The Melody of the Sphere

Chapter Five: Bound by an Instrument

Harry turned to face the intruder, his wand at the ready. Who he saw made his eyes widen and heart beat uncontrollably. "Cho? What are you doing here?"

Cho Chang, finally released from the Hospital Wing, stared at him. She looked like she had seen a ghost (A/N: no pun intended). Her mouth hung open and she said nothing for a good long minute. She could have sworn she saw a man appear out of thin air. He looked exactly like Harry, but there was something aside from his eyes made him appear much more dark, melancholy, and sad. That man had a past of pain.

"Cho?" Harry asked again.

She looked up to see him standing only a foot away. When had he moved? She lowered her gaze, afraid to see anything else. He said her name again; this time taking her by the shoulders. "Harry…" Cho couldn't say anything else. If she said anything else, it would ruin the moment.

"Are you all right?" he asked, lifting her chin so he could see her face.

She nodded, "I'm fine. Just a little surprised to see you here."

He smiled. "Likewise." Cho couldn't believe her luck. She had come to the Room of Requirement to think about Harry and, low and behold, she got the real thing!

Letting a smile play on her features, Cho said, "I didn't know you knew how to play."

"Huh?" She pointed to the flute that was still in his hand. Harry flushed, "Actually, I don't."

"Then why do you – "

"A gift," he quickly intervened. "I was a lucky customer and the store's manager gave it to me as a constellation prize."

"Oh…is that why you're in here?"

"It's one reason," Harry answered. "What about you? I don't suppose this is just a midnight stroll for you, is it?"

Cho knew he was going to question her being there, but why did he have to do it when she was still remembering their little interlude in the Hospital Wing? Her veins still flowed with the excitement she had felt when they were looking in each other's eyes. Cho had never been so close to any guy, or at least one that wasn't half-naked and once had a crush on her. "I needed someplace to think alone," she replied, "and this room is always good for thinking."

Harry nodded. "I know what you mean, but I don't think being alone is going to be an option for a while." He sat down on the floor near the fire and added another log. Just looking at the rain beating down and listening to the wind howling outside made him shiver.

Cho sat next to him, bringing her hands close to the heat. "I hope you're not angry."

"Why would I be angry?" He set the flute down and turned to face her.

Cho was glad the fire was nearby or else he would have seen the blush that quickly crept up her cheeks. "You know – about the other night."

Harry thought about her answer for a couple seconds, and then the memory dawned on him when she looked at him. "Oh – well – I – uh," he kept stuttering. Cho had to stifle a giggle. She knew how much guys hated it when girls giggled too much.

"I'm sorry I acted so selfishly," she continued, "I was acting like a crybaby."

"No!" Harry jumped at her statement, "You were scared and I – well – don't like it when people are scared."

Cho looked at him skeptically. "Are you sure? I don't want you to act all weird around me."

"What? Who said I was acting weird?" he defended. "We didn't do anything. You just needed someone and I only – uh – shared a – um – bed for the – well – night. Besides, there's nothing weird about that and I'm not acting weird."

She raised an eyebrow. "Harry?"

Harry realized he had somehow managed to get within an inch's distance from her face. Retreating he apologized, "Sorry. I guess I am a bit strange."

"That's what makes you Harry Potter."

"Being strange?" Cho smiled. "Hmm…I don't know about that. If anything, I'm probably just as dangerous as everyone says I am."

"No, you're not." She watched as his once lop-sided smile turn into a thin line. His face was so serious it hurt. The soft giddiness left his eyes and was clouded over by an intense emotion Cho couldn't decipher. All sorts of emotions – despair, jealousy, fear – were rolling up into a painful bud.

Harry saw her smile fade. Why did he always have to bring things back to his dark side? Why couldn't he just carry on a simple conversation about nonsense? "No one knows what happened in the Chamber of Secrets or in the maze during the tournament. All the rumors might as well be true because I hate to talk about it." Harry brought his voice to a whisper, "I could very well be the murderer all the Hufflepuffs accuse me of being."

"NO, YOU'RE NOT!" Cho stood up, her expression fuming with disbelief. "I don't believe a single bad thing anybody has ever said about you! I know you didn't kill Cedric! Voldemort did that!"

He couldn't believe she wasn't crying over Cedric or flinching at her saying the Dark Lord's name. However, he was still in denial that she truly believed him. "How do you know?"

Cho sat back down, still breathing hard. "If you really are so dangerous…" she paused, gaining the courage to finish her sentence. "…then why do I feel so…safe around you?"

"Safe?"

The young Ravenclaw wanted him to know that he was a truly good person – deserving of everyone's respect. "That night I woke up, I was so scared. I didn't know where I was. I had no idea how long I had been out. I just wanted someone, anyone, beside me, so I didn't have to feel so alone." Harry listened as she gave her testimony; kept eye contact with her, fearful that any severing would be a sign of non-support. And right then, she needed all the support possible. "Then, I heard a voice – the sound of another person kind enough to reach out to me. When I realized it was you, I couldn't help but have a better sense of security."

"Wouldn't you have felt the same if anyone had walked in?" Harry asked.

"I would be lying if I said no."

"Then how could I have made any difference?"

Why does he have to make things so complicated? she wondered. "For a while, I was included in the rumors that were about you. There was always some dramatic story about you and I neglecting Cedric's memory or one where I had asked you to get rid of Cedric so we could date. I overheard a first-year Hufflepuff say that our break-up was just to cover our secret affair, so no one would bother us." Cho couldn't help but laugh a little. Harry felt his jaw drop.

"Anyway…even with all those rumors going around, I knew that you weren't anything what people made you to be." Harry still looked perplexed. "It showed in the way you held yourself. You were still able to walk through the corridors, but I could see that there was always something troubling you. You weren't smug or satisfied with what everyone said. You were hurt and that's why I know you aren't dangerous…or a murderer."

"But I am dangerous. At least, to those close to me." His mind traveled back to the Department of Mysteries. He had put his friends and only family in grave danger and because of that, Sirius was gone. Harry rummaged through his robes to grasp the sphere.

"That doesn't matter because your friends, Ron, Ginny, and even…Hermione…choose to follow you. Friends like that will go with you to any end, regardless of the consequences. I wish I had companions like that. I don't know if I have anyone who would do that for me."

I would, Harry wanted to shout. I choose to be with you, but…Cedric. "I think you do."

"Thanks, Harry."

"Uh – about that night," Harry pursued, "how did I make a difference again? I think we got a little off topic."

Cho chuckled. "Yeah – well – I suppose it was the fact that you were compassionate enough to stay with me, even with what the school was saying. You proved that you were better than that – better for standing up for what you believed in and never backing down."

Harry had nothing more to say. What was there left to say? She had said more than he ever expected her to say in his short sixteen-year life. "…"

She felt heat rising to her face as he continued to stare at her. Why did I have to say that? "I'm sorry," she mumbled, "Maybe I shouldn't have said that."

"Don't be sorry" he said, smiling and finally finding his voice, "That was the nicest, kindest thing anyone has ever said to me."

He felt his insides whirling about – never settling in a comfortable enough position. The longer he thought about what she had said, the more his heart wanted to burst in all directions. He wanted her to keep talking about anything – anything as long as he could stay awake to hear it. The light she captured from the fire and the moon radiated in her words, through her actions, and from her natural beauty. How could he have ever denied the fact that he loved her? Whoa! Love? It was much to strong a word – attraction, he felt, was safer to use. Yes, he was definitely attracted to her.

Cho didn't think she could ever say anything so truthful without a dose of Veritaserum. She had practically admitted the feelings she harbored for the young wizard sitting next to her. His face had split into a grin at her explanation. She couldn't help but mirror his smile. At least he knew that there was another person willing to believe him, even if no one else stepped up at the opportunity.

Harry reluctantly looked at his watch – 10:26! There would be hell to pay if he was caught.

The smile quickly vanished as she watched him check the time. Cho knew it was past curfew and the thought of running into a professor or even Filch wasn't very pleasing. "Harry?"

He looked up as her voice broke the silence. His name never sounded so magical. He had always thought that the name Harry carried no excitement – like an aging, rusted sword trying to do battle against an epitome of absolute adventure and charisma. "Yes?"

"Before you go, would you mind if I…?" her question was finished as she pointed at the flute laying carelessly next to him.

"No, not at all." Harry let her take it, hoping that the instrument would drag out their conversation. The delicate instrument suited her. Its silver color blended well with her blue robes. Harry watched as she placed her hands on the keys, lifting a finger here and there as if to test their chemistry. Putting her lips on the embouchure piece, she blew and a clear note resounded. "You know how to play?"

She quickly removed her lips. It had come so naturally. Cho had merely held the Muggle instrument and knew exactly what to do. She had tried to play the frustrating piece of metal in her past, each ending up with the instrument laying on the floor or her flailing her arms in anger. Her affiliation with music was very brief, but how had she managed to play it now? She looked at Harry who had a glimmer of hope twinkling in his eyes. "I suppose I do," she answered softly.

"I didn't think you would be able to."

Cho furrowed her brow at his snide comment. "What is that supposed to mean?"

And the tactless git takes over once again, Harry thought. "Well, your family is pure-blooded and…"

"And you thought that I would never associate myself with Muggle objects?" she snapped.

"No! I just thought that wizards and witches don't usually learn to play instruments, much less one that comes from the non-magical world." Harry saw her face soften slightly. He kept his sigh of relief held, afraid that it would further provoke her.

"Excuse me," she breathed, "I didn't mean to get defensive."

"It was…understandable," he said slowly.

"I guess we better get back to our rooms, huh?" she suggested.

Harry rose to his feet. "Yeah…everyone will be worried." Unbeknownst to Harry, he totally forgot about the flute as he headed back to the Gryffindor common room.

Only in her dormitory, snuggled deep in the covers of her bed, did Cho register the fact that she was holding the flute, holding on to the new memory that she and Harry had created.

o o o o o o o

"I presume you got lost?" Hermione sarcastically inquired as Harry stepped into the common room.

"You were waiting for me…" he stated, not wanting to answer her question just yet.

Setting aside a rather large leather bound book, the Gryffindor prefect folded her hands in her lap. "After your incident not too long ago, I would think it quite normal for me to wait for you, especially after curfew."

He ignored the comment and flopped down on the armchair beside her. "You didn't have to, you know."

"I know, but after seeing Cho leave the Hospital Wing," said Hermione, "I couldn't help but wonder if fate would play another little trick."

"What're you pulling at?"

"Don't be so blunt! I know you two ran into each other again. Oh, don't give me that look, Harry. It doesn't take you almost three hours to contemplate anything."

"So what if we did?" Harry was on the edge of his seat now, playing a match of wits with the top-ranked student in his year.

Hermione's lips curled themselves up into a sly smile. "If you did, then I hope you didn't say something that would send her into another raving fit."

"We had a pleasant talk, if you must know," he bit back. Harry knew she was toying with him, an ability that only girls seemed to possess.

"So you did meet!" Hermione giggled, making him frown at the ridiculous sound. "I was hoping you would."

"Huh?"

Hermione got up and paced in front of the fireplace before saying, "I think it's time we started discussing tactics."

"Tactics? What do you mean?"

Hermione cleared her throat. "Courting Cho Tactics 101."

"Ron always thought you were mental, but now I think I believe him."

"Oh, shut up, Harry and listen. I don't think I can handle any more love triangles between you, Cho, and some unfortunate other, so we've got to get this whole mess cleared up right away."

"I really don't need this right now, Hermione," he said standing up, intent on going to bed.

"Unless you want another break-up like last year, then I suggest you sit down," she forcefully stated. Harry remembered what had happened in that accursed coffee shop on Valentine's Day. He had been stupid enough to talk about Quidditch when he and Cho weren't totally off the subject of Cedric Diggory. Rolling his eyes, the Gryffindor Seeker sat back down.

"Why are you so eager to help me in my romance chain?"

"I am, after all, the underlying cause for this whole charade, aren't I?" Hermione began flipping through a thick stack of parchment lying next to an even larger pile of books. Upon finding a folded piece, she pulled it out and handed it to him. It was addressed to him. The letter was still sealed with the hardened wax pressed into the distinguishable image of the Ravenclaw house. "Three guesses who wrote it," she joked, "and the first three don't count."

Not catching on to her farce, Harry opened it.

Dear Harry,

I found this in the Great Hall after breakfast. Forgive me if I was not able to return it to you in person, but I had my own matters to attend to. I entrusted it to your friend, Hermione Granger. I hope your holiday went well as I suspect it did.

Cho

"When did she give this to you?" he asked after reading the letter twice.

"Right after Defense classes on our first day back. Here's what she wanted to return to you." She handed him the parcel that he had partially opened a month ago. Inside was a picture of him and Hermione on his Firebolt. He and the Weasley siblings had enjoyed a good round of Quidditch when her parents came over with a camera they had bought from Diagon Alley. Ron and Harry persuaded Hermione to stay on a broom long enough for them to take a picture.

"She wasn't angry was she?" he asked, after reminiscing.

Hermione just shook her head. "She tried hiding it, but it was almost too easy to read. I never knew she had such a loathing for me."

"You mean, because of what I said last year?"

"That plus this picture and us being close friends."

Harry hung his head. Am I that much of a tactless git? "All right, I concede your point. So what are we going to do about it?"

"We, Mr. Potter, are going to sleep on it and tomorrow, you are going to confront Cho about this issue pertaining you and I being a couple."

"What? I can't talk to her about it tomorrow!"

"Of course you can," she insisted, heading toward the staircase that led to the girls' dormitories. "Just consider her feelings before blurting anything out."

"And you know that would work because…?"

"Crimson Regret is quite a gentleman," she answered.

"Who?"

"Crimson Regret," she stated. "Remember that poem I received the day you feinted?" Harry could only nod. "Well, he sent me another little tid-bit after you woke up."

"And how is that supposed to help me?" Harry crossed his arms over his chest. He really hated it when she gave him only vague clips of the answer.

Hermione pulled a rolled up scroll of parchment from her robes and tossed it to him. "Read that and maybe you'll understand why I would be willing to talk with him any day." With that, she left Harry in the common room. He stomped his foot on the plush carpet, hardly creating a noise that sounded like frustration.

Women! He unrolled the parchment and read the chicken scratch he dared to classify as writing.

Dearest Hermione,

I hope your first week was pleasant. Perhaps we can meet at the Winter Ball. I would like to tell you who I am, but right now I have a few insecurities about myself. Please understand. Also, I'm glad that Harry is all right. I know how much you two mean to each other.

Sincerely,

Crimson Regret

"What a whole lot of horse turd!" Harry placed the paper in between the pages of Hogwarts: A History and went up to the boys' dormitories.

Bland rhetoric. That's all it was. Mr. Crimson Regret needed a serious knock on the head if he thought he was going to win Hermione through practically illegible scrawl. Then again, it was Hermione. She and Cho were two completely different beings. Harry didn't think it would require him to have a total personality turn around in order to gain Cho's attention. He did that well enough with the whole school spreading word about them dishonoring Cedric.

Changing out of his robes, Harry sat at the edge of his bed. He couldn't even think properly. So many events had transpired – the sphere, its melody, the flute, his dream, the wounds, and now Cho Chang. Sighing, he pulled the sheets over him, took off his glasses, and stared at his canopy. He couldn't get the invading thoughts of the Cho in his dream out of his head. Why had he dreamt of her? Moreover, why did she ask, "Is it really you?"

All the answers just seemed to slip from his thoughts before he could pin one down with his finger. Like trying to hold sand in a clenched fist, his hopes of a dreamless sleep seeped away.

o o o o o o o

Garrett watched as she turned around to look at him and sang, "This is a song for you…" (A/N: a continuation of the dream in chapter two, Painful Beginnings) He looked behind him, but saw no one. She was staring right at him, a smile of pure entertainment evident on her face. She knew he was there. She stood up and meandered over to him.

"Enjoy the show?" she asked.

"How did you know – ?" he started, but refused to continue when she giggled.

"I'm sorry, Garrett," she replied, "but the look on your face is too precious."

He was taken back by her response, but admitted silently to himself that he probably did look like a confused idiot. "You know, I keep thinking about that time when…uh…I sang."

"What about it?" She motioned for him to follow her back to her spot.

"Well," he began, scratching his head to find the right words, "I know you don't give lessons or anything, but I was wondering if…um…" He paused halfway and debated on whether or not to ask his exceedingly childish question. "I was wondering if you might…how do I say this…help me?"

Belle stopped as she was about to pick up her flute. Had he just asked her to help him with singing? No one, not even her family, had asked her something like that. "What?"

He immediately regretted his question. "I mean, I know you were joking when you said I didn't sound bad, but – "

"I meant what I said," she said.

"Really?" Belle nodded. "Anyway, it's been bugging me and I really don't want to ask some teacher that might babble out something to the press."

"I can understand that, but why are you so interested in singing?" Belle watched the long-haired young man closed his eyes, searching for his answer.

Sighing, he spoke softly. "I'm kind of falling for this girl and…well…I was hoping, after what you said, that maybe I could really…uh…serenade her."

After finally getting the question out, Garrett popped an eye open to see her smiling. He opened both. His eyes weren't playing tricks on him. She really was smiling. "Oh, Garrett, that is the most romantic thing I ever heard!"

"It is?"

She was squealing with excitement. "Yes, it is!"

"So, you'll help me?" he pressed.

"Are you kidding? Of course I will!" She began pacing the length of the bleacher, mumbling things to herself. After nodding to herself, the songstress turned around. "So, what's she like?"

o o o o o o o

Morning progressed into afternoon. Cho looked at Brie's wristwatch make its final round past the twelve. She returned to poking at her food. The Shepherd's pie on her plate had grown cold. Looking around she spotted many familiar faces; a few that belonged to those she had dated, and landed on one. The dark shadows under his green eyes had resulted from a night of restless sleep. Cho had seen him trudge in the Great Hall for lunch with his friends Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger on either side.

They were Gryffindor's illustrious trio who always managed to win the House Cup at the last second. It was as if fortune favored them above everyone else. Cho hated them when she was in her second and third year, but found hating them impossible when she finally made the Ravenclaw Quidditch team in her fourth year. It was then she had seen Harry up close. He hadn't allowed her to catch the snitch, a feat which many other boys would do. Although her team hadn't won, she couldn't help but admire him for treating her like an equal.

"Cho, are you coming?"

She looked up to see Brie shouldering her bag. "Yeah…"

Brie's radiant smile was enough to bring a little light on Cho's dim outlook. The American threw a casual arm around her Chinese friend, chattering on about some Canadian singer by the name of Avril Lavigne. Cho knew that Brie's family was the foreign counterpart to England's Malfoy family, but Brie didn't have the pure-blood attitude one would expect from a person of her stature in the magical world. She was in no way like Draco Malfoy. Her appearance did little to add to her already fiery personality.

Brie had straight, short red hair that styled into a messy arrangement of spikes. Her attitude could fluctuate between extremely cold and cruel to lukewarm and sarcastic. However, when she was around Cho, Brie would drop her cruelty or sarcasm and adopt the warmth of a best friend. It was that wonderful laugh that had attracted Cho to Brie's endless supply of energy. She never failed to turn a negative situation into a positive.

"You know Professor Tonks was really worried about you and Harry," Brie said as they neared the classroom for their Defense Against the Dark Arts session.

"Is that so surprising?"

"She and McGonagall are the only teachers who bothered to ask me about you."

"Professor Tonks is our Defense teacher," Cho replied, "so it's only natural for her to ask about my well being. After all, we don't know what caused me to feint."

"I give it one guess that those cuts of yours have nothing to do with it," Brie commented, friendly sarcasm attached to her words.

Cho rolled her eyes and sat down in her usual seat – far right, third row from the front. "You know what I mean."

"Well, not that it matters, but I found a rather intriguing piece of artwork the other day and I thought you would be interested in it."

Cho was too busy searching for her inkwell to notice the piece of parchment Brie was unrolling. "Really? Who's the artist?"

"I think you can guess who if you take a look at it."

Cho triumphantly pulled out her inkwell. Brushing her hair from her face, she asked, "All right, Brie, what is so great about – oh, by Merlin's beard, put that away!"

She launched herself at the parchment Brie was dangling in front of her blushing face. Cho recognized it as the tear-stained parchment that she had written Harry and Cedric's names on. In her grief on the first day, she had crossed out one of the names and drawn a heart around the other. Professor Tonks had spoken of a war so devastating that she felt compelled to choose between the two men that had battled for her heart. Before class had ended, Cho had already given it away to the one she felt would really appreciate her – Harry Potter.

o o o o o o o

"Thank God it's Friday!" Ron fell back into the soft cushions of one of the common room's armchairs. Harry could barely nod his consent. His head was still getting used to the pressure that came along with going back to class after a month's "vacation." His first official week back at school had been hell.

Hermione quickly settled herself at a desk where she opened her Arithmancy textbook. "Don't you ever quit studying?" Ron loosened his tie, looking over at Hermione who was beginning what looked like another Outstanding essay.

"Ron, when have you known me to hold off homework?"

Ron pondered her question, wanting to think up an instance where she had procrastinated. "Never," Harry answered, his head thrown back against the sofa.

"Okay, new question," Ron replied, "Why don't you wait until tomorrow?"

She finished writing her sentence before answering, "I'm doing homework now, so I don't have to worry about it tomorrow or the rest of the weekend for that matter."

"I don't see the point," said Ron. "You're always cooped up in the library anyway."

Ignoring his for once accurate comment, she propped up her book and said nothing.

After several moments of silence, Harry went up to the dormitories to shower. The hot water only loosened his overwrought muscles a little. Quidditch practice and Animagus lessons would begin next week and he was in no condition to handle them and his classes at the same time. Sighing, his hand unconsciously traveled over his scars. The Room of Requirement would be a good place for him to let some anxiety out.

Ten minutes later, Harry stumbled over to the mirror. Even without his glasses, he knew his hair was sticking out every which way. He would never be able to tame it without a tub full of gel. Perhaps it ran in the family.

Pulling on plaid pajama pants and a white shirt, he removed the sphere from his school robes and put it in his pocket. He needed some serious time alone. Listening to his friends bicker at each other or getting clobbered by Ron at a game of chess was not among his choice of options.

He grabbed his Invisibility Cloak, the Marauder's Map, and wand before heading down to the common room. Descending the stairs, he noted that Ron had fallen asleep and Hermione was midway through the second foot of her essay.

"Don't wait up for me," Harry said as he neared the portrait hole.

Hermione stopped writing as she looked up to see Harry crossing the common room. "Where are you going?"

"Room of Requirement," he answered.

"More thinking?" she asked with a smile. He chuckled, an indirect answer. "Well, remember to be a gentleman in case…you know."

"I will," he replied.

o o o o o o o

An hour later, Harry watched as the tongues of fire danced in the grate, entangling themselves with their partners before dying down again. He had hoped Cho would appear sometime during the night to surprise him again, but he knew she was most likely asleep.

His feelings drifted back to the dreams he had about a girl. Was it possible to dream of the same stranger over and over again? It was probable. She was beautiful he had to admit. She also had the most striking voice he had ever heard, even if it was only one line. But, one thing was nagging at him. The woman had called him Garrett. He couldn't fully remember what they had spoken about, but the name Garrett struck him numb.

He recalled their conversation in little bits and pieces. There was something involving singing. His head hurt with the strain to remember. He gave up and returned to thinking about anything but his dream, but even that was futile. Everything reminded him about it. The warmth from the fire brought back the heat from sun; Quidditch practice involved a pitch where the dream took place; even the thought of Cho having his flute reminded him of it.

"Who the heck is Garrett!" he shouted. The sound echoed off the walls of the room. He wouldn't have been surprised if Filch came clambering down the corridor mumbling something about ghosts.

Harry removed his glasses and set them on the table nearby. Rubbing his temples, he groaned and flopped down on the carpet. He reached into his pocket and drew out the sphere. Harry closed his eyes and asked for the sphere to play its song. At least he had the luxury of knowing that no one else could hear its melody. He let the music flow over him, washing away his worries for just a moment. All he needed was a moment of absolute peace…

"It's beautiful…"

Upon hearing a voice, he opened his eyes. The fuzzy image of a person walked over to him and handed him his glasses. An all too familiar pair of brown eyes framed by long, black hair greeted him. "Cho?"

Harry had to swallow hard as she helped him to his feet. She wore an elegant silk nightgown, which contrasted greatly with her black school robe. Her hair was loose; not tied up or matted down with mousse or gel. (A/N: remember Natalie Portman in Star Wars Episode II when she walked in on a meditating Anakin? It's something like that.)

"Fancy meeting you here again," she said. Cho could tell that Harry really was a nice guy just by looking at what he wore to sleep – plaid pajama pants and a simple shirt.

"You know we have to stop meeting like this," Harry replied. He straightened out his shirt and pushed his hand through his hair, praying that it wasn't too messy.

She smiled at his comment. Cho watched as he tried to nonchalantly make a quick-fix of himself. His hair was untidy as usual, but it was a nice sort of messy. "I know." She had come in here to try out Harry's flute again. He obviously enjoyed the silence of the room as much as she did.

"So, what brings you here tonight?" he asked.

Cho sat next to the fire. "I thought I would give this another try." She held out the flute.

He took it from her and ran his hands along the now familiar surface. "Why'd you hold on to it?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I hope I didn't worry you too – "

"It's okay, it's okay, really," he assured her before she went into a state of frantic apologies. "I was just curious, that's all."

"Well, I hope you didn't mind. I actually asked my cousin to send over a few of her song books, so I could help you."

"Help me?"

"It's just to repay you for helping me out that night and for…a number of other things…" she trailed off.

Harry stared at her. She appeared smaller without the numerous layers of their uniform and a heavy backpack to top it off. He looked back at the flute, dangling carelessly at his side. Everything had started with the darn thing. It was as if he was bound by the instrument to some other unknown being, like how his scar was the connection between him and Voldemort.

"What's this?"

"Huh?" He sat down and saw the object she was staring at inquisitively. It was his broken sphere. "Oh, just something I picked up at Diagon Alley."

"It's really quite fascinating," she said, looking at its fairly bright center. "What does it do?"

"Practically nothing," Harry replied.

Cho let it rest in the palm of her hand. It was about the size of a jumbo marble, yet she sensed that there was much more to this contraption than Harry let on. She heard a faint sound. It seemed to be coming from all around her, growing louder with each passing second. Cho looked over at Harry. He had his chin resting in his palms, his eyes closed, a toothless smile forming on his face. He appeared to be reveling in the sound.

The melody reminded her of something sad, yet beautiful. It reminded her of the man she had seen; the man that resembled Harry. His handsome features told a story of sorrow she hoped would never be bestowed on her. Even his voice, though not exceptionally superior, was hauntingly beautiful. It was a voice Cho knew she would never tire of. Then as quickly as the song began, it ended. She felt the pressure of the world fall back on her shoulders. That melody had made her worries disappear for a moment. A moment of absolute peace…

"Wow…" she managed to breathe.

"Wow?" Harry raised a brow. "What was wow?"

"That song."

His eyes widened. "What song?"

"Didn't you hear it?" she asked, staring at the little trinket in her hand.

"You heard it?" He grabbed her by the shoulders. It couldn't be! No one had heard it before, not even in the silence of his dormitory did anyone hear it. How? "You're sure you heard it?"

Cho was stunned by his sudden change in mood. "Yes, I'm sure."

She wouldn't be lying to him. "What did you hear?"

"I'm not sure," Cho answered. "But I know it came from this." She brought the sphere to their eye level. Harry looked at it, then at her. Several times.

Although his mind refused to believe it, his heart knew the truth. Cho Chang had heard it – she had heard the melody of the sphere.

ooooooo

Author's Note: So, what do you think? Interesting enough?

In this chapter, I desperately wanted to get away from all that gloom-and-doom business with our couples and get into more relaxed, comical scenes. I can only write so much drama, you know. Aside from that, I also hope that HPCC supporters found it to their liking. It's hard trying to write dialogue that fits the characters.

All righty then…any questions? What's up with Hermione and her secret admirer? Is there an explanation to the whole Garrett and Belle thing? Will Harry and Cho ever get over their friendship stage? The answers will follow somewhere in future chapters.

Much mahalos to Hotaru, Yashiro, and Ayu for your continued support!