The One That Got Away

Chapter 3: Don't You Want to Take Care of Your Family

Harry continued running until he was down the block. He rounded the corner and stopped. Leaning against the wall, his breathing was erratic and heavy. His knees buckled and he slid to the ground, where he stayed. His hands flew to his ears in a vain attempt to drown out the deafening thumping of his heart as it beat against his chest; he finally knew what it was to run away from passion.

He brought his knees to his chest and kept it there until he heard a noise approaching him. Hearing the footsteps getting closer, he disapparated.

When he opened his eyes, he was in the sitting room of Cho's bedroom suite. Taking off his coat, he sat on one of the chairs and lowered his head as he tried to slow down his pulse. When his body had finally stopped shaking, he stood up.

He looked around the room, at the ornate fireplace in the corner that flickered hues of gold from it's dying ambers. The mantle still displayed the picture of the couple from the Yule Ball during her seventh year. He picked up the frame, looking down at the image of them; he dressed in robes of green and her in silvery white.

He put the picture back in its place and followed the low hum of music that was coming from her bedroom. He gingerly pushed back the sliding glass doors, bringing her mahogany canopy bed into view. Oh, the numerous escapades that bed had seen, the many late night chats that had occurred while cocooned underneath those white chiffon curtains.

And there she was, kneeling in the corner, her back to him. She was placing items into a suitcase, but was soon on her feet when a fast paced song came on the radio. He stood in the doorway, mesmerized by the sight of her dancing around the room, oblivious to his presence in the background. She bobbed her head to the music, her long black hair swinging freely. Her white, satin nightgown grazed the floor, making her appear as if she were floating.

After observing her for a few minutes, he slowly crept up behind her, taking soft and deliberate steps. He walked until he was standing a few feet away from her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and whispered, "Hello darling."

Cho screamed and jumped away from him. Turning around, she placed her hands over her mouth and stared at him. Her eyes widened as she scanned his face. "You little scoundrel. You scared the daylights out of me. " She was still breathing heavy. "How long have you been in here watching me?"

"Long enough to know that you shouldn't dance like that at the reception."

She hit him on the shoulder. As she playfully swung at him again, he grabbed her arm and pulled her close. "Is that how you greet your future lord and master?"

As they embraced, there came a light tapping on her bedroom door. "Cho?" came the voice from outside her room. "Why were you screaming honey? Is everything alright?"

"Mom, I'm sorry for waking you," Cho shouted back. "I'm just excited because I'm getting married to the best man alive." She leaned forward, placing a kiss on Harry's lips.

"Well, try to get some sleep. It's very late. You should get some rest for tomorrow."

"Okay."

"Goodnight Mrs.--" She quickly smothered Harry's mouth with her hand, stopping him from talking.

"What did you say dear?" called Mrs. Chang.

"Nothing," said Cho. "I just wanted to wish you a good night." She kept her hand planted firmly on his mouth until her mother's footsteps were no longer audible. She removed her hand and stared at him. "What do you think you're doing? If she found out you were here, she'd throw a fit."

"Why? I can understand keeping it a secret all those other times I used to sneak in here, but we're getting married tomorrow." He looked down at his watch; it was already one in the morning. "We're getting married today. I'm pretty sure they know that we've already had sex. I mean, we've practically been living together for the past couple of months."

She dropped her head and began to look at the floor. He took a step back as he stared at her. "What?"

"My parents are old fashioned," she said slowly. "They still see me as their precious little girl." She lifted her head and looked him in the face. "They don't know I've been staying with you. They think I've been sleeping at one of my girlfriend's house."

He shook his head. "You're very crafty aren't you? It's okay. I don't blame you for wanting to keep something like that a secret. But it's a good your parents see you as being pure, because they would drop dead if they knew what a freaky animal you were."

She narrowed her brows into a frown. "Very funny. Anyways, how was your stag party? Did you have a good time?"

He smiled. "Yeah. But I missed you. I couldn't wait to get back here and be with you." He flung an arm around her waist and pulled her to him.

"I'm glad you had a good time," she said. "But I was beginning to doubt if you were going to come over." Her fingers went to his shirt, as she began to straighten his collar.

"Sorry about being so late, I had to run an errand." He noticed that she wasn't looking at him; her gaze was directed at his neck.

Soon her fingers drifted from his collar to his neck as well. She then grabbed his chin and began to turn his head from side to side.

"What are you doing?" he asked, a puzzled look on his face.

"Nothing, just hold still." She leaned close to his neck, as her fingers began to pull at his skin. "This side is clear," she said. She turned his face again and checked the other side of his neck.

"Cho, what are you doing?"

"Inspecting you."

"For what?" He tried to move his head away, but she kept his chin firmly locked between her fingers.

"Stop squirming, I'm almost done. I just want to check you for any signs of wrong doing." After thoroughly evaluating him, she muttered, "Okay, no love bites. That's good. But she could have left her smell on you."

"What smell? Love bites? What are you-" Before he could finish his sentence, she leaned forward and pressed her face into his shirt collar. He could hear her taking deep breaths.

When she finally let go of him, she stepped back and smiled. "Everything checks out. You've been a good boy tonight." She kissed him. He would have kissed her back, but he was still trying to make sense of what had just happened.

His eyebrows stayed in their ever-fixed furrowed position. "What was that all about? Why would I have love bites on my neck? And what's with smelling my shirt?"

"It's no big deal. Just something that a couple of my friends told me I should do to you, just to make sure you weren't doing something you're not supposed to." Her eyes didn't meet his gaze for very long, before they skipped away. She then walked away before he could ask her another question.

He sat on her bed and followed her around the room with his eyes as she walked to her dressing table and picked up a hairbrush.

She turned around to face her large mirror and began to brush her hair. She pretended not to see him as his reflection stared back at her. But after a few minutes, his unrelenting stare became too much for her to try to ignore. She put down her brush. "Will you stop staring at me like that? It's a bit disturbing to look in the mirror and see you making that face at me."

"You thought I would mess around with another woman tonight, didn't you?"

She whirled around. "No, I didn't think you'd do that." She dropped her head and began to finger the silk embroidery on the edge of her gown. "Actually, I don't know what to think."

Harry lay back on the bed, his long legs stretched out before him. He turned his head to watch her as she continued fumbling with her gown.

She approached the bed, lifted his legs onto her lap and began to take off his shoes and socks. "People have been telling me that during stag nights, some guys go a little crazy. They often think that it's their last chance of freedom, so they try to snog and shag as many women as possible."

"But we didn't go to any clubs. We just went out to dinner. That's all. We're getting married tomorrow and you still don't trust me?"

"I do trust you. I just don't trust other people. I've heard nothing but horrible stories from my friends ever since I told them you were having a stag party. I tried not to let anything they said affect me, until I found out that Ron was organizing the party. And well.you know what he's like."

"What he's like?"

"Well, he practically lives in those clubs. And since he's your best friend, I thought he would influence you to go somewhere seedy. And, Parvati told me that the restaurant is just around the corner from a club called.The-"

"The Witches' Brew."

She raised her eyebrows. "So, you know the club?"

"I just know of it. The guys were thinking about going there tonight, but-"

"I bet is was Ron who made the suggestion."

"Actually it was Justin. The fact remains that I didn't go. And why would you think that it would be Ron's idea to go to the strip club?"

"After what he got you for your birthday, I'm surprised you would ask me that."

Harry placed his hands over his face, so she couldn't see him laugh.

"It's not funny. I know he meant it as a goof, but it was humiliating. Here I was trying to throw you an elegant birthday party, and he strolls in with a girl dressed in a French maid's outfit." She hit him on the knee. "Will you stop laughing? My poor mother nearly had a heart attack when she entered the room and saw that girl shaking her butt in your face. It's a good thing I had some smelling salt with me."

She watched him for a while longer and then turned her head away, bringing her hand to her face.

"You're laughing too," he said. "I see you."

"No I'm not." When she turned to face him, her cheeks were slightly flushed. "Anyways, I'm really sorry for doubting you. I shouldn't have paid any attention to their talk. I know you would never do anything like that to me. Cause you know I'll hurt you if you did." Her fingers reached inside his pant leg and pinched his skin.

He returned the smile she bestowed upon him, but the happiness didn't reach his eyes. His gaze swiftly drifted to the picture of them at their engagement party.

Her fingers went to his feet. "Ah, they're cold. Could you hand me that bottle. It's on the nightstand, near the vase." He placed the small bottle into her hand. She squeezed the contents of the container onto her palms and massaged his feet.

Harry began to relax as the oil warmed up his skin. "What I don't understand is why you would listen to Parvati. What kind of friend fills up another girl's head with horror stories like that? She's been doing that sort of thing since we first started dating. She seems to know more about my whereabouts and what I'm up to than."

He watched her face. Although she was looking at him, her eyes seemed distant; she appeared to be preoccupied with something. Her hands moved away from his feet. "Oh my God! Harry, turn it up! The radio, turn it up!"

Harry reached for the radio and moved the dial. As the sound grew louder, a woman could be heard talking. "This dedication goes out to HP. I will always love you forever."

He listened as a slow song began to play on the radio. Cho got to her feet, a big smile on her face. She grabbed both of his arms and pulled him up. "Why don't you dance with me for a while?"

He wrapped his arms around her waist, as she led them into a slow dance. "You must really love this song," he said. "This is our song Harry."

He stared back at her with a bewildered look on his face. "It is?"

She released her arms from around his neck and placed them on her hips. "Weren't you listening to the dedication?"

"Yeah. It went out to HP.that's me, right?"

"And some people say you're thick. Of course that was you. I called them tonight. I told them not to play the song until late because I wanted us to be together when it came on. But all my efforts seemed to have been wasted, since you weren't even aware the song was meant for you."

She began to walk away, when he hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her back to his side. "That was very sweet of you. I'm sorry I didn't recognize the dedication right away. I guess I ruined the whole surprise. Do you think you could find it in your heart to forgive me?"

She crossed her hands against her chest. "I guess."

"Why don't you tell me why you dedicated this song to me."

"This song was played during the night of the Yule Ball."

A slow smile crept onto his face. "I remember that night quite well." Both arms wrapped around her and his fingers splayed against her back. "That was a great night. But I was really nervous."

"I could tell."

A startled expression spread on his face. "Was I that obvious? I tried my best to stay calm."

"Harry, your hands were shaking and it took you like an hour just to remove my bra. I know it was your first time, but did you really have to tremble. I would have thought a guy of your popularity would have had some experience in that department."

He looked away for a moment, but when he turned to face her again, there was a glimmer of something wicked in his eyes. A playful look was now on his face. "I was nervous because you were an experienced older woman and I wanted to please you." His lips curled into a half grin.

She reached behind her and grabbed his hands as they tried to get hold of her derriere, pushing them away. "You make me sound like such a tart. Other than you, I've only been with one other." Her voice became choked and trailed off. She broke their gaze and began to look towards her grand window.

His hand rose to her chin and she turned her head to glance at him. He leaned forward and kissed her lips. He continued stroking her face, by the while keeping vigilant eye contact. Once he saw that her melancholy had eased, he said, "But we didn't play any music when we were intimate."

"I know. This song was played during the ball when we took our first dance. Remember?" She watched his face, trying to see if he had recalled the event; he merely stared back at her with blank eyes. She hit him on the arm. "Don't you remember? It was when you kissed me."

Harry drew his eyebrows together. "I kissed you a lot of times during the dance and a lot more afterwards."

"But the kiss you gave me during our dance was so special. That was the first time I really felt like I was truly your girlfriend." She pulled away from him and stood in the middle of the room, her eyes up at the chandelier, somehow imagining that night. "I remember the spot light was on us and it just felt like we were the only ones in the room."

Harry slapped his hand on his forehead. "Oh God! Now I remember. That was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. No wonder I've blocked it out of my memory."

She immediately snapped out of her fantasy world and glared at him. "How could you say that? You told me you loved me right before we kissed. Even though you'd said it before, that time I think you really meant it."

"I did mean it. Don't get me wrong, I really enjoyed kissing you, but when we pulled apart, everyone was staring at us. And the following day, The Daily Prophet had a big picture of us on their front page. I never heard the last of it from the guys ever again."

He threw himself down on the bed. "That was a nightmare week for me. The Slytherins blew up the picture and posted it around school. I had to endure their jokes and snickering, and everyone made kissing noises at me where ever I went."

"I don't know why you were so humiliated. I loved that picture. I even kept a copy of it."

"No, you didn't."

She went to the nightstand and opened the top drawer. She took out her scrapbook that contained newspaper clippings and magazine articles on their relationship. On the front page was their wedding announcement. She flipped through the pages until she saw the picture of them at the ball.

Harry took the book from her and gazed at the image of them engaged in a lip lock. He winced when he saw Hagrid's amused face in the background. "That kiss was private. They shouldn't have published this picture. I'm embarrassed just looking at it."

She grabbed the book from his hands and stared at the image. "Why was that embarrassing? Kissing is very natural."

"Not when it's in front of lots of other people. Like that time you wanted me to give you a kiss in front of your girlfriends. That really unnerved me."

"What was wrong with that? It was just a group of my friends; it's not like they were strangers. Plus I wanted everyone at the shower to see how in love we were." She put the large book back in its place.

"But I can't do stuff like that. I'm not like Ron. I can't have it off with someone in the middle of the street and not think anything of it."

"Don't exaggerate. I don't want you to snog me in front of everyone." She walked over to her dresser and continued packing her suitcase. "Speaking of Ron, did he do anything outlandish at the party?"

"He flirted with anything that moved, got drunk and passed out, nothing out of the usual."

She snorted loudly. "That guy blows my mind. Every time I open up the papers he's doing something wild. I read somewhere that he went into a store and bought out the whole left side."

"He's just having some fun. He's never had any money in his life. The twins' shop is doing well and supplies the family with a steady income, but Ron's contract is the most money that family has ever seen in their life. Can you blame the guy for going a little overboard?"

"I don't think overboard is the word for it. I just wish he were a little less pretentious with his money. He's likely to lose it all if he's not careful. He's the prime example of what some people would call `nouveau riche.' "

Harry sat up on his elbows. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, he has tons of money, but he's still clueless on what is or isn't good taste. Remember what he wore to the house last weekend? Who the hell wears fur robes and a hat with feathers in it?"

"He did look a mess."

"He sure did. Just because you can afford fur, doesn't mean you should buy it. Only some people look right wearing that stuff. He looked ridiculous."

"But he only wore it to try to impress you and your friends. He knows you guys are upper class and he wanted to fit in."

"But he looked like an idiot. Why doesn't he just get a stylist to help him dress? And I thought I told him he could only bring one guest and he shows up with two girls decked out in God knows what. And he just had to get drunk and dance around like a maniac."

A smile spread on Harry's lips. "Yeah, he tends to do that a lot." He thought back at how the redhead grooved on the pool table, wiggling his bottom and gyrating his hips like the Muggle entertainer Elvis. "But you must admit, he has a lot of rhythm. You should have seen all those people at the restaurant and the way they admired his dancing. That is, until he hit his head on the light fixture."

She laughed to herself and shook her head. "It's funny, you know? He's got this big fat contract with the Cannons and is making lots of money with endorsements. But underneath, he's still a poor man playing dress up. It's like those poor families who win The Daily Prophet drawing. They go out and buy expensive clothes and stuff, but they still don't know how to act."

She began to place frilly negligees into her suitcase. "I'm bringing these to our honeymoon. I have a few other things that I'm also taking, but I want to surprise you. They're a bit erotic, and I think you will be shocked when you see them."

"It wouldn't be a black dildo, would it?"

"A black what?"

"Nothing." He turned his head so he could hide his smile.

"Anyway, I saw the McNeely family who won the drawing last month. They were having dinner at a fancy restaurant, and they looked really stylish. But then they started eating with their fingers. I couldn't believe it; it was so disgusting. That's the same thing I see with Ron. Like my mother always says, `You can put a pig in a suit, but underneath it'll still be a pig.' "

Harry began to glare at her. "That's a really mean thing to say, especially about someone I care about. Why would you want to repeat something like that? And why are you attacking him all of a sudden?"

She turned around and was almost taken aback by the intensity of his glare, as his eyes narrowed on her. "I'm not attacking him. I just think he has little control over himself and I'd hate for you for follow that route. I just know he'll try to lure you to join him in his wild escapades. I think he might be a bad influence on you. You never used to drink when we first started dating and now you're at the pubs with him nearly every night."

"Just because I'm at the pub, it doesn't mean I'm drinking. And you don't have to worry about me being enticed into doing anything stupid. I have some good influences in my life that keep me on the straight and narrow. Like Hermione, she's smart and is headed down the right track with her life. Obviously, you don't see anything wrong with her."

He lifted his head and glanced her way, awaiting a response. But she stood up and faced her mirror. He eyed her reflection as she went back to brushing her hair; her face was calm and relaxed, showing or giving away nothing. He wondered if she heard him.

There was a long moment of silence and then she began to talk as if he had not spoken at all. "Oliver Wood is on your team right?"

"Yeah, he's the captain."

"He's a nice guy, has a good head on his shoulders. How come the two of you don't hang out?"

"We do, but he's usually busy planning game strategies with the coach." He rolled onto his side and sat up on his elbow. "What's this sudden interest in Oliver?"

"You should really consider hanging out with him more." She bent over and began to brush the back of her head. When she straightened out, her hair appeared thicker. "I just thought you might want to hang out with some people other than Ron once the Quidditch season begins."

Harry sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed. "You don't want me to be around Ron?"

Satisfied with her hair, she put down her brush and walked to the bed. She sat on the floor and wrapped her arms around his legs. "You can socialize with him, but try to keep other friends too. I'm sure you could find other players on the team who are a bit more respectable to be around."

"Ron is my best friend and I can hang out with him if ---"

"Of course you can honey. You can hang around anyone you want." She got up and sat down next to him. "I'm not telling you who you can and can not be friends with. I would never do that. I just know that Ron has a bit of a reputation."

She placed a hand on his thigh, rubbing his muscles in a circular motion. "I just know that some sponsors have taken an interest in you." She leaned forward and lightly kissed his cheek. "Just wouldn't want you to lose an endorsement deal because of whom you associate with."

Her fingers curled around his chin and she turned his face. She kissed the other cheek. "I know that you want to support your family. You and I will have children in a couple of years and don't you want to give them the best?" She grabbed his face with both hands and tilted his head downwards. She placed kisses on his forehead, her lips running along his scar.

"And what about Sirius?" she asked. "He got badly hurt on his last assignment. And I don't know about you, but I don't think the Ministry is going to keep handicapped Aurors on their payroll. Don't you want to take care of him?"

Harry closed his eyes and thought sadly of his Godfather, confined to a wheelchair after a violent confrontation with a powerful Dark Wizard.

Her mouth reached the side of his face and her breath fanned his ear as she whisper, "I just want to make sure that everyone in our little family is taken care of. "

"I do want to take care of you, Sirius and our children, everyone. But I also want to have my friends in my life. And that means Ron."

"You will have him in your life baby. You will be around him almost everyday." She kissed his eyes, before placing featherlike kisses along the bridge of his nose. When she reached his mouth, she pulled away and brought her hand to his face. "You have such full lips," she muttered.

His eyelids became heavy and began to drop, as her finger traced his mouth. When she reached the edge of his upper lip, she abruptly drew back her hand.

"Don't stop," he whispered. "I liked what you were doing"

She squinted and lowered her head, so she could get a better look at her finger. "Baby, did you eat any red candy tonight?"

"No. Why?"

Her eyes fluttered from her fingertip to his lips and back again. "No particular reason."

Harry watched as she began to pull away from him. "What's wrong? You got sick of exploring my face?" He observed her eyes and how her gaze remained fixed on his lips. "Why are you staring at me like that? Did you see some mud on me?"

"Why would you have mud on you?" she slowly asked.

"I got splashed with some muddy water by a stagecoach. I guess some of it must have dried onto my skin when.Dean used the drying spell."

He took off his shirt and looked at it. There were brown splotches on the back, from where the mud had dried. "I think I'm going to take a shower. I'll feel a lot better after I'm clean."

He stood up and began to undress. As he slid his boxers down his body, he looked up to see her staring at him. "What is it now?"

"You love me don't you?"

"Of course."

She walked over to him and let one hand slide down his bare chest, his stomach and below his hips. He gasped. She kept her hand there; her expert fingers knew where to go and what to strum. Her other hand slithered around to his back, landing on his taut buttocks, feeling his muscles clench. She was amazed at how she always managed to get a response from him. Soon she felt a hot part of his body pressing eagerly against her hip.

His arms rose and draped around her shoulders. He pressed against her body. "Do you think we can break that two week rule? I know you want to wait till our wedding night, but maybe we can cheat just a little bit."

She lifted her head and brushed her lips against his. "Why don't you take a shower first," she murmured against his mouth. "Then we can see where things lead."

"It'll be the quickest shower ever." A smile spread on his lips as he walked into her bathroom.

She stood by the bed and looked down at her hand, eyeing that faint red stain that remained on her fingertip. She knew he hadn't gotten if from her, she had long removed her makeup; she wasn't even wearing any lip-gloss. Soon thoughts of the restaurant, Ron, and the club rushed into her head.

She sighed loudly and rubbed her thumb and forefinger together until the stain disappeared.

Seeing his shirt as it lay on the floor, she picked it up. She brought the garment to her nose; no other scent other than his cologne could be detected. Shaking her head, she decided that she must be mad and went about the room gathering up his clothes.

Walking into the sitting room, she was about to ring the servant bell, when she saw his coat laying on the chaise longue. As she draped the garment over her arm, several sickles fell out of its pocket. She leaned over to pick up the money, when she noticed a neatly folded piece of paper lying amongst the silver coins.