Dear Meiqi,

Hello, it's Draco Malfoy. I am writing you to inquire on the nature of your feelings towards me. Are you mad at me? I am remorseful of our encounter on the train with Daphne Greengrass. It slipped out before I could realize what I was saying. If it makes you feel any better, I changed the subject off of it the moment you left the compartment.

I think Daphne has forgotten about the entire encounter. I hope you can too.

From,

Draco Malfoy

P.S. Happy Christmas.

I smile at myself as I read the letter, careful not to crease the delicate piece of parchment in my grasp, as I scan it over and over again. With every reread, my heart seems to swell even more, until I'm absolutely certain it will grow too big to fit into my chest, and I'll explode entirely.

Though, just as I'm about to grab a quill to write back to him, do I hear Dad's voice calling my name from downstairs.

"Meiqi! Come down, it's time for dinner!"

"Coming!" I call back to him, setting the letter down on my desk. It'll be there when I get back, I figure, so there's no rush to respond. Rising from my chair, I jog out of my room and down the stairs, grinning as the scent of my mother's famous lasagne fills the air. A meal fit for Christmas Eve, I figure, as I sit down at the table, and immediately dig in.

"Someone's hungry." Cho snorts from across the table, eyeing me up and down as I devour the food.

"Starving." I agree. "I haven't eaten since lunch."

"Ah yes, a whole six hours." She rolls her eyes. "How ever did you survive?"

Oh.

Only now do I realize she had been being mean. Implying I'm fat, or something, by commenting on how much I eat. I slowly lower my fork, setting it down on the table. Daphne's voice rings in my head, repeating over and over, how I don't deserve to be treated like that.

But I don't want to start a fight, not on Christmas Eve. It'll only upset my parents. This is the first Christmas we've had outside of St. Mungo's since I got sick at six years old, and I'm not about to ruin it for them.

So, I grit my teeth, and stare at the ground, suddenly no longer hungry. A tight pain forms in my chest, but I push it to the side, taking deep breaths until I'm no longer focusing on it.

"Are you not going to eat?" Mum asks, glancing over at me with concerned eyes.

"I'm full." I give her a small smile. "It was delicious, though. Thanks, Mum."

"Anything for my little girl." She grins at me. "I'm so bloody thankful, that we're finally here together."

"Me too." Dad agrees, reaching over to give my shoulder a tight squeeze. "I'm thankful for our Mei's health. I'm so thankful you're better."

"Me too." I say, though I'm not sure how much I mean it. Would I rather be sick, or seeing dead people? It's a difficult choice to make, and I'm not sure which I would pick, if forced.

Cho smiles as well, though it doesn't meet her eyes. "I'm not hungry either." She admits with a sigh, pushing her plate away from her. Only a bite has been taken out of the lasagne, and not a big one. "I'm going to go back to my room, if that's okay?"

"Of course, honey." Mum says. "Are you okay?"

Cho nods. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just…yeah."

Before any of us can question it, she stands up, and makes her way up the stairs, her footsteps growing further and further away, followed by the sound of her door shutting.

"What do you think is wrong?" Dad turns to Mum and asks. "Is it Cedric again?"

"I have no idea." Mum answers.

"Should I go check on her?" Dad's eyes flicker towards the staircase, wide with worry. The tightening in my chest grows worse, but once again, I ignore it, focusing on my parents as they discuss my sister.

Mum shrugs. "I don't know. Meiqi, will you check on your sister?"

"Er, yeah, sure." I bite down on my lip as I rise from my seat. While I doubt Cho wants to talk to me, I'll do just about anything my parents ask of me, so I turn and follow the trail she had gone.

When I reach her door, I hesitate for a brief moment, before pressing my fist to the wood and knocking.

"What?" Cho snaps from behind the door.

"Can I come in?"

"Whatever."

I take that as a yes, turning the door handle and pushing it open, stepping inside. Her room is clean, much cleaner than mine, with pale green walls and a massive window giving her a beautiful view of the suburbs we live on.

Cho is sprawled across her bed, arms spread in an eagle position, and she barely even looks up at my arrival. "What do you want, Meiqi?"

For a long moment, neither of us say anything. I know I'm supposed to be checking up on her, making sure she's okay, but I can't help but prioritize my feelings, my emotions, in a way I rarely have before.

Eventually, I break the silence, with a deep, shaky breath. "I thought we were friends now."

"What?"

"I mean, when you came up to me in the Great Hall, to tell me that you're dating Harry. I thought that meant we were friends. But I guess I was wrong."

"Yeah, I guess you were." She sits up, gaze darkening as it meets mine. "Now can you go? I don't want to talk to you."

"Why do you hate me so much?"

At my question, Cho lets out a dry laugh. "I don't hate you, Meiqi."

Once again, the tightening in my chest grows worse, and once again, I ignore it. There are more pressing matters on hand, after all, like a final confrontation with my sister.

"It sure seems like it. You resent me, that's for sure. I just don't understand what I ever did to you."

"That's the point, Meiqi." She lets out a sigh as she rises to her feet, making her way over towards me. "What have you ever done for me, except laying around in a hospital bed, taking all of mum and dad's attention?"

"I…"

"When Cedric was killed, they didn't even come to see me, for three bloody days, because you had an episode! For three days, I was stuck at Hogwarts, in misery, because of you and your stupid fucking condition. And then, when you get better, they're all happy, and I'm expected to be happy too, when I'm mourning my dead fucking boyfriend! How am I supposed to be happy, when you're better, and Cedric is dead? Then, you come to my school, and start getting all this bloody attention, like you haven't done enough sucking up our parents attention, you had to dye your hair pink and become friends with the fucking Slytherin prince!"

The words hit me like a slap to the face, so hard, I nearly fall over. It's only my staggering feet that keep me upright, though a simple gust of wind would send me flying to the ground.

"You would rather I be dead, and Cedric be alive?" I can't believe what I'm saying, the words coming out of my mouth in a breathy whisper, but here I am, standing in front of my sister, begging her to tell me that she loves me. That she cares about me. That she's happy I'm alive.

When Cho doesn't instantly deny it, when Cho says nothing in response, simply staring at me through a stone cold expression, I know the answer to my question crystal clear.

I don't say anything. I don't think there's anything I can say, that can adequately express how I'm feeling, express the horrible aching sensation in my chest. Instead, I blink back the tears burning at my eyes, and march off to my room, slamming the door behind me loud enough that I know it will alert our parents.

But I don't care.

I don't care one bit, as I collapse onto the floor in a fit of sobs, crumbling like a piece of parchment in one's grasp. I cry, and cry, and cry, without a care for who might hear the sounds of my pathetic wails though the walls.

Never in my life have I felt as desperate as I do now. Not when I was on my death bed, not when I was seeing dead people, without a clue as to who they were or what they were doing to me. Not even when Cedric Diggory had his fingers wrapped around my throat, did I feel as horribly pathetically uselessly desperate as I do now.

Desperate for what? I can't even tell. Love, I suppose.

My parents, sure, they love me, but not as much as they do Cho. The child they don't have to worry about. The perfect one, the one who isn't racking up medical bills, the one who isn't at the cusp of dying. Sometimes, I think they'd convinced themselves for so long that I was going to die, that they'd detached themselves from me, to spare their heartbreak when the inevitable happened.

I can't even blame them.

No one comes to check up on me. If they even notice, if they even hear me, they don't care. Not enough.

So, after hours go by, when I'm certain my parents are in their room, asleep or close enough to, I slip out of my room, ignoring Knife-Neck as he appears in front of me, speaking to me about wanting me to cry quieter, because I'll disturb his newborn baby.

Instead, I tiptoe downstairs, grabbing a quill and a piece of parchment, scrubbing down a note and leaving in on the table.

Mum & Dad

I've gone to visit a friend. Don't worry about me. Be back soon.

- Meiqi

When I finish, I head towards the fireplace. Scooping up a handful of floo powder, I whisper the name of the one place where I reckon I'm wanted.

"Malfoy Manor."