Disclaimer: SHArice doesn't own Harry Potter.

Author's Note: Okay, it's time for me to start unveiling the mystery of these weird visions. Forgive me if the ending of the last chapter confused anybody. I keep assuming you know when Harry has his visions of Garrett and Belle. Many apologies.

Also, due to the fact that my computer doesn't download italics, bold, or underline, I've put the really quick flashbacks in brackets … so no one gets confused. It will make it a lot easier instead of writing "flashback" and "end flashback" over and over.

Happy reading! Reviews are welcome.

ooooooo

The Melody of the Sphere

Chapter Nine: Finding Freedom Part 2

Why am I still having visions? The sphere no longer works, so this shouldn't be happening! Why me? Plagued with questions without immediate answers, The Boy Who Lived trudged back to the bustling streets of Hogsmeade. He stopped, looked over his shoulder, and recalled his last encounter with the star-crossed lovers. Garrett and Belle had gone their separate ways, each thinking their direction was best.

Music had brought them together; Belle's singing to be exact. War tore them apart – a war against an emperor. Scratching his head, Harry dared to ponder the war that could cause such a rift between people who were so in love. There were so many to choose from. Of course, Hermione could always help him, but she would suspect something was up. Professor Binns or even Tonks' knowledge could prove valuable.

No, he reminded himself. I'm going to have to figure this one out on my own. These visions and dreams were placed on me and I'll be damned if I have to go crying to someone for help. Okay, now think.

His first night back at Hogwarts, he had observed Belle singing through the eyes of Garrett in a dream. They were in the spectators' towers of a Quidditch field. If he remembered correctly and according to Garrett, that was where the two had met. He didn't know much about Garrett, but Belle seemed to be a pretty popular figure. Maybe he could do a little research on her.

"Harry!" Familiar russet eyes twinkled in the early afternoon sun. "Hey, how long were you waiting?"

Taking her bag, Harry put on a half grin. "Only a few minutes," he lied. "Did you find anything?"

"Yep…I hope to wear it soon," Cho said, praying Harry would catch her hint.

He didn't. "Anywhere else you want to go?" the Gryffindor Seeker asked, bringing an arm around her shoulders. "I heard there's a really neat antique shop a little ways from here."

"Oh, all right." Cho smiled, however, she was frustrated. They were at an intense kissing level already! Why doesn't he ask me to the Winter Ball? The young woman cast aside her qualms as Harry brought his arm about her waist.

Once again they were hit with glares upon snickers upon unabashed pointing walking through the village. Harry breathed a small sigh of relief. The shop Hermione had described was coming into view and they had not encountered any Slytherins or Michael Corner. Looking up at the peeling paint of the building's face, he would have mistaken it for any other rundown store.

"Sisters Musique…" Cho said out loud. She took in the sight before her. The shop's grey and rather dismal appearance had her hairs on end. There were hardly any people around and it seemed that everyone avoided the area. "Is this where you wanted to go?"

Harry nodded. One afternoon, he and Hermione were passing a Sunday afternoon in the Common room with her reading the Daily Prophet and him practicing with his Snitch. She had mentioned something about a shop called Sisters Musique celebrating its two thousandth anniversary, making it one of the oldest shops in the wizarding world.

"What do they have here?" Cho asked, snapping Harry out of his reverie.

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "A friend told me about this place. It's supposed to be two thousand years old."

"Wow…" The Ravenclaw took hold of her date's hand. "Well, come on. Let's have a look!" Harry grinned. Cho seemed more enthusiastic about the shop than he was.

Pushing through the heavy door, a bell signaled their arrival and some shuffling could be heard. "Oh, dear! June, we have customers," a high-pitched voice called from behind a counter facing the entrance.

"Hold on! I'm coming!" an identical voice replied from somewhere in the shop.

Harry looked around. It appeared to be no bigger than Ollivanders in Diagon Alley. A counter with glass displays worked its way around the shop with shelves of some of the weirdest things behind them. To the left were weapons – swords, axes, shields, spiked maces, long bows, crossbows, and standing below the shelves was a full suit of armor. Facing Harry and Cho were rows of instruments, including a handful of flutes both ancient and modern. Completing the shop on the right were paintings. Many were landscapes of Hogsmeade, revealing the changes it endured through various artists' eyes. In the glass rounding the shop were numerous trinkets.

"I'm going to have a look around," Cho said, releasing Harry's hand. He nodded as she walked over to the far left side of the shop, leaning over to look at the items in the glass. Harry scanned the few portraits hanging and his eyes stopped on one in particular.

Shimmering brown eyes and wavy ebony tresses framing a sun-kissed face jumped out at him. An oil painting on canvas, the young Gryffindor could only stare. It had to be her. She wore an elegant, yet simple jade-colored satin gown. "Belle…" he breathed.

"You're almost right about that, lad." Harry's gaze moved over to an aging witch standing in front of him. She reminded a great deal about Professor Sprout – short, round, and rosy cheeks. "The name's June."

"Oh…hello," Harry greeted. Motioning to the portrait, "I don't suppose you would know anything about her."

June turned around. The young woman in the portrait looked down at the witch and smiled, giving her a small wave. "Her name was Jhalei. She lived over a thousand years ago. Hiring a painter cost a lot back then, but her family could afford it. They were very wealthy because of her sister who was a popular entertainer back then. I think you already know her name."

"Belle?"

The shopkeeper nodded. "Yes, Belle. They were twins if you can believe it. No one knows what happened to her painting, but I wouldn't be surprised if it was stolen during the invasion."

"There was a war…" he stated, trying to put pieces together.

June continued, "According to a few of Jhalei's diary entries some weeks after the invasion of Hogsmeade, she and Belle were celebrating their twenty-first birthdays with family and close friends. I suppose the paintings were gifts from their parents. But, unfortunately, that night…"

"Belle died," Harry finished.

The old witch shook her head. "It's really quite tragic. In all of her entries, Jhalei always writes about how much she missed her sister. But what really baffles me is the mentioning of a young man that Belle loved. Jhalei wrote about her loathe of him. Jealousy is what I think it is."

Harry kept quiet. He knew she spoke of Garrett. There was no other who Belle loved more, but why would her sister, someone she probably confided in, hate her sister's love? Most likely because he had left Belle heart-broken he guessed.

"Well, is there anything I can interest you in?" June asked, bringing their tense conversation to its proper end.

"You've been around for a long time," he said, "and I was wondering if you have any music spheres."

"Now there's something we're known for," the witch jovially exclaimed.

"You have them?"

"Of course, lad. Why do you think our name's Sisters Musique?" Harry could only watch as the shopkeeper ran to the back and, in a few minutes, returned with a large box. "My sister, May over there…" she waved her hand in Cho's direction by the instruments, "…and I are heiresses to a long line of music sphere smiths."

"You make spheres?" Harry asked, almost dumbfounded.

"Call us crazy, but there's something absolutely fascinating about perfecting such an art. In case you're wondering why we would pursue such a failing career, our great grandmother – well great times seventeen – is one reason why we continue to make spheres in this progressive era." June opened the large cardboard box and took out a dusty, leather-bound book, an inkwell, and several spheres of different colors.

"Why is your – uh – great grandmother so important?"

June's excited face dropped for a moment before a smile was tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Lad, this is our great grandmother," she answered, gesturing to Jhalei's portrait.

"What?"

"After Belle died and the end of the war, Jhalei took up a sphere smith's apprentice in this very shop, hoping to find someone to finish Belle's last song. If she could make a sphere worthy of her sister's talents and find a songstress with enough heart, then she could rest in peace. She led a good life. She became a wife and mother to twin daughters before passing away. She never fulfilled her goal. Funny, huh?"

"Pardon me, but what's funny?" he asked, watching as June fiddled with a blue sphere.

June chuckled. "Jhalei was a twin, she had twin daughters, and my sister and I are twins. What makes this even funnier is that such a line will end with May and I. Over a thousand years of countless heiresses and it will finally end."

"Haven't you found anyone to continue your work? Surely someone out there is interested."

The old woman shook her head. "We're too old and too tired to scout potential sphere smiths. I can't even count on my own daughters."

"What happened to them?" he asked slowly, wondering if it was too much to ask.

"One left the trade about eighteen years ago to marry some Russian bloke. The other…" June's eyes glazed with unshed tears. "…she was killed by a dementor that had gone astray not too long ago."

Harry recalled the tragedy that had befallen many innocent lives because of the Azkaban guards. He had barely escaped them with Hermione in tow. "I'm so sorry."

"We will wait patiently until someone comes along, or go waiting. I believe Jhalei's spirit has finally chosen a songstress. My grandmother always told May and I myths about when Jhalei's last would be fulfilled. She said it would come when the Sisters Musique legacy of twin daughters wrote its final chapter."

"Then you'll meet that songstress soon," Harry reassured her. He stared into the old shopkeeper's eyes, seeing the faithfulness that had kept her rooted to Jhalei's quest. For that, Harry admired June and her sister. Perhaps when someone did finish Belle's song, these visions and dreams that were thrust upon him would cease.

o o o o o o o

"What did you tell him, June?"

"Not much," her twin replied.

"You always say that. Whenever a customer comes in and starts asking about Jhalei and Belle, you just give away our entire history."

"Come on, May. Didn't you feel that those two were different somehow?"

May remained silent for a moment. "Now that you mention it, that girl did give off a rather unusual aura. Did you know she even looked like Lady Jhalei?"

"She did!"

"You didn't notice?" June shook her head. "Well, you remember that framed piece of parchment we couldn't get rid of by the flutes?"

"What about it?"

"The girl bought it!" May held a palm up to her sister before she could say anything. "I also wondered why a pretty girl like that would buy such an antique, but when I asked, she just said it called to her."

"You don't suppose?" June wondered out loud.

"I don't want to jump to conclusions. Anyway…what about the boy?"

"He was very interested in the Calista1 sisters," June answered. "He asked about music spheres and everything. That's when I told him about us being sphere smiths."

"Oh, June…" her sister groaned. "Did you have to?"

"I couldn't help it!" The younger sister threw her hands up in defense before speaking. "It seemed like the proper thing to do. In any case, he ordered a few custom spheres and we talked a bit more on how to use them. That's all."

"What would a boy like him do with obstinate spheres?" May asked, pacing around their shop.

"History project, perhaps…"

"That was Harry Potter, wasn't it?" June nodded. "Why didn't you get his autograph or something?"

"I think he has enough attention. I probably would have just made him feel uncomfortable."

"Should we tell mother about this?" May asked.

"Absolutely not!" June shouted, making her older sister jump a little. "That old hag did nothing here except scare the customers away for almost fifty years with her banshee traumas! She left us to open her own shop in Diagon Alley, so I won't have anything to do with her anymore!"

"June…?"

"I'm sorry, May. It's just been frustrating, you know."

Her sister just drew June into a sisterly hug before pulling her toward the back of the shop. "Come on, June. Let's go make another sphere."

o o o o o o o

"So, what did you think of the place?" Harry asked, looking over the rim of his drink.

"I liked it so much I bought something," Cho answered, dunking a soda cracker in her soup. After leaving Sisters Musique, they stopped by a restaurant with a wharf theme. They prepared all kinds of soups served in hollowed bread loafs.

"Is that it?" The Gryffindor pointed at the bag at Cho's feet.

"Yep."

"Would you mind if I looked at it?" Cho handed him the bag with her purchase in it, hungrily devouring her soup-soaked cracker. Harry peeked in the bag, looking like a little boy seeing what his mother had bought from the grocery store. Brows furrowed into a state of confusion when he withdrew Cho's purchase. Parchment with Old English scrawled on it framed in rusted brass was not what Harry was expecting. "What is it?"

The Ravenclaw slurped her spoonful of chowder. "Well, I'd think that was pretty obvious."

"Excuse me for being antique retarded," he replied. Cho laughed. "Okay, so why did you buy it?"

Tilting her head to the side, Cho raised an eyebrow in thought. "It called to me, intrigued me."

"You can't even read it," he observed, trying to make out words that seemed misspelled.

"That's the challenge of it." Harry scanned it over once more, then placed it carefully back in the bag. If his memory served him right, the words were written in a poem format. The letters were written in an elegant calligraphy style font. "Besides," Cho pressed on, "something tells me that there's more to it than meets the eye."

"Not all answers are given, Mr. Potter. From your performance today, I believe there is more to you than meets the eye."

"I guess beauty really is in the eye of the beholder." Perhaps it was by sheer luck or a weird alignment of the planets that such a legacy would be thrown in his direction. The weirder aspect of the dilemma was the role Cho played in it. To Garrett, Belle was the most important person in his life, so maybe it was only natural that someone of equal importance to him would be able to help him unravel the mystery. Maybe…

"Do you believe that?" Cho suddenly asked.

Harry looked up from tearing his bread bowl into chewable pieces. "Do I believe what?"

"In beauty lying in the beholder…do you really believe that or is it just one of those expressions that intrigue you for a moment?" Cho had a serious look on her face – the one that said she really wanted to know what you were thinking.

Harry picked his words. A single misplaced word has its consequences. "You easily see something in that parchment that I don't," he began, looking at the bag that was once again next to Cho's leg. "To me, something that seems ugly on the surface could very well be ugly underneath."

"You're not making sense."

How do I phrase it? Harry asked himself. "Appearances can be both deceiving and truthful. If a person like Michael Corner looks at you, Cho, he might think that you're a pretty girl and immediately jump to the conclusion that you're perfect."

"I hope there's nothing wrong with that. Girls like to know that others think they're pretty."

"Before you miss my point, let me explain something else." Harry took her hand. "Michael Corner sees you as a pretty girl. I look at you and see Cho Chang, the most beautiful person I have seen and known." Cho tightened her grip on his hand. "I can look at something that's already beautiful, but never truly see the beauty that lies within. Outer beauty may belong in the eye of the beholder, but inner exquisiteness is seen only when one looks past the image…and very few dare to look for it."

"Harry…"

"Sorry. Maybe that was a little too much deep thinking," he replied, removing his hold on her hand.

"It was just fine," she said and leaned across the table, giving her date a light kiss on his lips. It didn't matter that they were out in public. If she wanted to rid herself of unrequited love, then shun society's terms on moving on and go with all your heart.

Harry opened his eyes and had an odd grin on his face. "Hmm…if I may say something, I believe that's the second kiss today, Miss Chang."

o o o o o o o

"Harry," Cho gaily breathed as the green-eyed boy led her out of Hogsmeade, "where are we going?"

He didn't answer. Keeping his gaze at the edge of the forest, the young man picked up their pace, one hand keeping hold on their shopping bags and the other secured safely around Cho's hand. Ron was right. There was something about Cho that he couldn't grasp; she was sustenance he could never get enough of. Only her touch or voice could ease the hunger he felt when she wasn't around; never satiate. Oh, no, only alleviate with further anticipation.

"Come on, I'm getting tired!" Cho pleaded, laughing as Harry only turned around and winked.

"Just until we hit the trees…" They had only about a hundred feet of distance to cover. Harry let go of her hand. "I'll race you!"

"You're not beating me this time, Potter!" Without the additional burden of bags and a heavy cloak, Cho made a mad dash for their forest finish line. Effortlessly, the athletic Ravenclaw left her Gryffindor counterpart to tag behind her.

Harry smirked. He was far from being tired, but the amusement he found when she smiled overpowered his male pride. Pretending to slow down, he let her pass him, listening as she laughed. This is what a date should be, he thought. It's not all about looking your best or having enough money to treat your date. No, it's about finding freedom.

"Ha! I beat you!"

Harry could only chuckle. Cho had her hands on her knees; fighting to catch her breath and obtain some composure. "You sure?"

Cho looked confused for a second, and then she noticed he was barely panting. "You let me win!" Her question was answered when he bawled out laughing, nearly dropping their purchases in the process. "Oh, you!"

Slipping behind the trunk of a tree, Harry's incessant laughter rang clear among the bald trees and through the swirl of autumn leaves in a yuletide dance. As Cho chased Harry, a triplet of red-heads couldn't help but shake their heads and laugh along just outside Hogsmeade.

"All right, you're tired…" Harry gasped some five minutes later, leaning against a strong pine, "…and I'm tired, so why don't we call it even?"

Facing him, Cho smiled. "That's fine by me."

"Good because I have surprise for you and it would help if I wasn't so out of breath." Harry set their bags on the cold ground and undid the clasp of his cloak.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" she questioned, watching Harry fold it neatly and place it in a bag from the Trojan Beauty.

"Why? Does it seem like I am?" Cho shook her head, flushing a shade of pink. "I didn't think so," he mocked.

"Then what are you doing?"

Harry approached her, keeping a few feet between them. "You have to promise me you won't tell anyone about what you see."

"What?"

"Promise me," he insisted.

"All right, all right…I promise," she consented. As Harry backed away another ten or so feet with a smirk on his face, Cho grew curious again to his insistence on keeping his surprise secret. "What are you doing, Harry?" She took a step toward him.

Harry pointed a finger at her, gesturing her to remain where she was. "Don't worry. I've done this enough times."

"Done what?"

Before Cho could ask anything more, Harry ran off, enjoying his own motion with the wind. Cho watched as he raced with himself, faster and faster. Leaning forward, he dangled his arms. His knees began to bend backward, making her cringe at the sight. Harry could feel his strides becoming surer and stronger. His chin stretched outward. Fingers fused together and met the leaf-covered turf. His back lengthened along with his neck. His sleek shadow flew across the ground as he trotted slowly to her. Harry could feel his lungs fill with air that could carry him across great distances. All at once, Harry's clothing merged with a shining black hide.

Bounding back to her, Cho could only gape at the majestic creature that stood before her. Harry was now a stallion. His coat was a silken black; mane just as messy as his hair in human form. Between a pair of emerald eyes was the legendary scar, the only white patch of fur.

"You're an animagus? Harry?" The Ravenclaw Seeker held out her hand slowly, unsure of what else to say. The proud stallion dropped his head and let the tentative girl touch him. "Oh, Harry…" Cho sighed, bringing her forehead to rest against his.

Backing away, the charger turned his side toward her – an invitation to get on. "You want me to…?" Harry bobbed his head up and down, digging his hoof into the dirt. "But what about our stuff?" Cho laughed when the steed whinnied.

Stepping up, Cho gratefully smiled when the stallion got on his forelegs. "Thank you, Harry." Taking hold of his mane and swinging her leg over to mount, Cho clutched his neck tighter when he rose back up his full height. I'm so glad mother and father made me take riding lessons, the Chinese witch thought when the charger bounded off.

Cho listened as hooves pounded into the ground, sounding like distant thunder. She could hear his breaths with every stride; feel the muscles of his limbs under her legs, constricting and stretching. Cho tried to find a word to describe what she was feeling as they sped across the hills surrounding Hogsmeade. So many different words were flying at her – joy, excitement, fear, courage, a tinge of ruggedness – all daring her to pinpoint one.

"Hmm. I felt like everything was perfect. Like nothing bad could happen as long as I could hear it. I'm not sure how to put it, really."

Just as soon as memories flooded her consciousness, they were abruptly cut off when Cho felt Harry slowing down. Looking around, she could see the rooftops of Hogsmeade welcoming the setting sun. "Wow." The steed whinnied and Cho laughed as she slid off.

"Oh, geez, that smarts…" Turning around, the young woman smiled. Rubbing his lower back, Harry groaned, "And I thought horses didn't mind carrying things one-fifth their weight." A fine patina of sweat covered his reddened face.

Cho just watched as Harry regained his breath. She could still hear the sounds from the ride. Goosebumps had formed along her arm when the chilly wind whipped against her skin. There was another time she had felt like that. Like the wind that began to blow, the word Cho was searching for leapt out at her. There was no other way to describe it. Once again, she could hear the blows of mallets to the timpani, the quiet humming of brass, and the strong crescendo of strings. "Symphony…"

"What?" Harry asked finally noticing her dazed look.

"It was like a symphony," she quietly answered. "The sounds are soothing, at times strong, yet always in syncopation."

Harry took her hand, lacing their fingers together, and faced the sunset.

"The burning colors make me feel relaxed because it's the end of a long day, but then I think to myself: It's the end of the day. I may never get to see the sun rise and that's when I feel sad. It feels like the day before the end of the world. I picture all of my friends and I feel so happy to have known them."

"You remember what you said to be at dinner – about seeing beauty?" Cho asked keeping her eyes fixed on the horizon. She didn't for his answer. "When I saw the stallion you had become, I was thinking just one thing." Cho looked up at him. "You're beautiful."

Harry didn't laugh. Although many boys his age or men for that matter would have, he knew she had taken his earlier words to heart. His inner splendor had physically manifested itself into the shape his spirit honed itself to be. Stallions were proud, courageous, and untamable creatures. He had proven his bravery and opposition to restraint many times before.

"I have to ask you something, Cho."

"Yes, go ahead," she answered.

"Will you be…uh…" he stammered out before catching her longing look. Come on you incompetent imbecile! "…will you be my…uh…be my…um…date – ?"

"Yes!" Harry had to take a step back to secure his balance when Cho threw herself at him, her arms slowly cutting the circulation to his head. "Yes, I'll go with you to the ball!"

Pushing her off him, Harry could only grunt again when she hugged his middle. "How did you know I was going to ask you that?"

"Oh?" Cho released him and stepped away. She was blushing and her smile formed back into a small frown. She shifted her feet on the grass, speaking softly, "I'm sorry. I just assumed, especially after today, that you would…well…you know, ask me."

Harry bit his bottom lip, cursing himself inwardly to no end. Putting on his lop-sided smile, the young wizard lifted her chin, so he could look at her now teary eyes. "Well, now that I know you're answer, I guess this should be easy to say. Will you, Cho Chang, accompany me to the Winter Ball?"

Cho half sobbed and half laughed at her own naivety. She could only nod.

"Hey, look," Harry breathed, pointing upward at the sky. Instead of the rain that everyone had come to expect, Cho smiled as she closed her eyes to catch the soft, powdery snowflakes on her lashes. It seemed like Mother Nature was celebrating along with Cho's heart. "I'll be right back," he whispered, leaving Cho to stand amidst the heavenly white falling down.

Okay, now where is it? Harry asked himself. Magic back then couldn't have been as advanced, so there should be something to distinguish it. I'm sure this is where I saw it. Focusing, Harry smirked when he saw the little sapling barely visible against the brown of the bald trees. Its small leaves were still a healthy green, although it should have been either bald or dead like its bigger cousins during winter.

Taking out shrunken books he had bought after dinner from his shirt pocket, Harry returned it to its original size and began flipping through the pages of Advanced Transfiguration Book Seven and All Shapes, Sizes, Colors, and Mediums. He had told the shopkeeper it was a Christmas gift for a friend. What surprised him more was that the old wizard knew who Harry hung out with and assumed it was for – and what a shocker – Hermione Granger.

Closing both books, Harry set them on the partially snow-covered ground and pointed his wand at the little sapling. "I'm ready for whatever you've got planned for me, Belle."

o o o o o o o

"So you two planned this whole thing?" Ron asked his little sister and Cho's red-headed friend, Brie as they walked the path back to the castle.

"It wasn't only us," Ginny defended herself and Brie.

"Your friend Hermione Granger also helped," Brie finished. Both girls put on identical smirks when Ron raised his eyebrows, stopping in the middle of the road. He was the perfect image of shopping abused boyfriend with numerous bags and boxes in his arms.

"Why'd you have to include Hermione in this?"

"She's a girl, so it's only natural for her matchmaker intuition to kick in," Brie coolly replied.

"Besides," Ginny added, "you weren't around to notice Harry moping around all the time."

"Okay…I'm an ignorant git who has a hard time balancing his academic life and social life. Sue me." Ron continued walking, his ears turning a slight shade of red.

"And what social life is that?" Ginny quipped.

Ron rolled his eyes while Brie let out a giggle. "Its days like this that I ask myself why are we related?"

"Well, someone has to keep you on your toes," Brie answered in reply to his rhetorical question. "And who better than your little sister?"

Ron was about to open his mouth for a comeback, but Ginny cupped his mouth. "Ah ah, dear brother. Remember what mum said about respecting your elders."

"Ya mim hmm?" Ron asked with Ginny's hand still over his trap, pointing at Brie.

"Yes, I mean her," the youngest Weasley clarified looking at the seventh-year Ravenclaw. Releasing her hold on her brother, Ginny wiped her moist hand on her jeans throwing Ron a disgusted look.

"Heads up," Brie suddenly exclaimed, whirling both Weasleys to look up. Ahead of them, further along the road, were Harry and Cho. "Isn't that just so romantic?"

Whatever, Ron thought, wanting to gag. Cho was wearing Harry's wool cloak with his arm that was free of bags and a small chest around her. Ginny practically swooned when Cho leaned her head on the Gryffindor's shoulder and Harry placed a kiss on her head.

Brie nudged the fifth-year out of her trance. Looking down at the girl two years her senior, Ginny smiled. The Ravenclaw looked over at Ron who was mumbling incoherent thoughts. It was something about "girls and their mushy stuff."

"I don't think we have to worry too much anymore," said Ginny.

"I think we do," Brie replied.

"Like what?" Ron butted in.

Brie smirked. "You make sure Harry shows up as all the girls' desires, a heartthrob if you catch my drift." Ron groaned. Ignoring his wordless comment, Brie continued, "Do that, and Harry will feel like another bludger hit him when he sees Cho."

ooooooo

Author's Note: I hope everyone's satisfied with the date I had to carefully plan for over two weeks. I really had to be careful about what I wrote and revealed, otherwise it would contradict what I'm planning for future chapters. Well, now that Harry and Cho are dangerously close to being "official" in the eyes of their classmates, I'm ready to start slaving over the events of the Winter Ball!

Please, please, please email me your song requests or any specific couple you'd like to see! If you want, tell me in a review who you think Crimson Regret is…dun dun dun!

Thank you to Hotaru, Yashiro, Ayu, and those who patiently wait for updates. I promise to work harder at this. -;

1 Calisto in Greek, "beautiful"