The One That Got Away

Chapter 4: Why Did You Have To Chase After Me

The money dropped from her hands as she focused her attention on the slip of paper. After quickly picking it up, she eyed the blue stationary, before coming to the conclusion that he must have written her a love letter. A smile spread on her face as she thought of how shy he could be at times when it came to expressing his feelings for her.

She let his clothes fall to the floor and sat down on the chaise lounge, resting her head on the pillow. As her fingers delicately unfolded the paper, she leaned into the cushions, repaired to read.

As her eyes scanned the paper, her excitement began to fade when she realized it was not his handwriting. She read the note several times before letting it slip through her fingers and drift onto the carpet.

She remained in that position for the longest time, as Hermione's words flashed across her mind. She placed her hands on her lap and closed her eyes.

"Cho, where'd you go?" came his voice from the bedroom. "I'm ready for us to begin." Harry poked his head in the sitting room and eyed her. "You still in the mood?"

She leisurely opened her eyes and looked up at him, gazing over his glistening and wet body, his organ still engorged. She turned her head and looked the other way. Her hand rose to the small table nearby and fingered the flowers that lay there; the first bouquet he had given her, the ones she had bewitched so they'd always stay fresh.

He sat back on his heels and rested his hand on her stomach, playing with the silky material of her gown. "Do you still want to." He brought his face forward and nuzzled her neck, his lips lightly grazing her skin. "I don't know how much longer I can keep this up. Literally."

He pulled away from her when she remained quiet. "You were supposed to laugh," he said. He eyed the serious look on her face. "What's the matter?"

Her hand dropped to the floor, as she grabbed the letter that lay near his feet. She held the piece of paper between her thumb and forefinger, and dangled it in front of his face.

His pulse quickened when he saw the slip of paper. He looked away, as he tried to conceal his reaction, but her alert eyes never left his face, taking in every sign of discomfort on his part.

"I was going to get my house-elves to wash your clothes," she began, "when this fell out of your coat pocket." The letter was now between her fingernails, as if she didn't want any part of it to touch her skin. "I read it, thinking it was a love letter that you might have written me. I hope you're not mad."

"No." His voice quivered, but he cleared his throat and tried to talk in a composed manner. "I would have been curious too if I were you."

"I was a bit surprised to find out it was from Hermione."

He got a sudden lump in his throat at the mention of the other woman's name. There was a long silence, before she spoke once more. "I didn't know you saw her tonight."

He watched her face and how calm she looked, how at ease she appeared to be. "She came to the stag party," he said.

Cho's brows came together. "Came to the party? You mean she stopped by to wish you hello or something?"

"No. She was a guest. She spent nearly the entire evening with us."

She brought her hand down and let the letter lay on her lap. "But you never mentioned anything about her coming to the party. I looked over the guest list, and I don't remember seeing her name on there."

"She was a last minute addition. I didn't think it was a big deal, so I didn't say anything to you. Do you have a problem with her attending?"

"Yes I do. When I asked you if I could come, you said it was for guys only. But if Hermione was there, I should have been able to attend as well."

He withdrew his hand from her belly when he noticed her narrowed eyes and clenched jaw. "I guess," he said weakly. "But the reason you couldn't go was because it was just going to be a group of my friends and I. When you had your wedding shower, you only invited your friends, right?"

"But you were more than welcomed to come along."

He quickly searched his brain for a good justification for his actions. He needed a defense that would not arouse her anger or suspicions. "But Hermione is familiar with most of the people at the party, you're not. You don't really know Fred and George, Seamus or even Neville. I just thought you'd feel uncomfortable."

"I would have gotten a chance to know them."

Harry looked down at the floor, all words having escaped him.

She sounded more composed, almost cheery, as she said, "Anyway, it doesn't sound like she had a good time, since she doesn't want to attend the wedding."

"No, she had a good time. It was only towards the end of the night that things got a bit strained."

She brought the letter to her face and read out-loud what Hermione had written. Harry's heart squeezed when he heard those sad words repeated to him.

Cho read the note in a matter-of-fact manner, her voice flat and unemotional. "What did she mean when she said it would be too hard for her to watch our wedding ceremony?"

"I don't know," he muttered.

"What did you do when she gave this to you?"

"What could I do? She had already left by the time I found the note in my pocket." Harry took the paper from her hands and looked over it with melancholy of his face. "It's really too bad she won't be there. Don't you think?"

"Yeah. We spent all that money getting her gown custom made, and she won't even show up."

He stared at her in disbelief. "I don't care about the money. I would just like my best friend there. I'm really going to miss her. Things won't be the same without her."

She looked at his face and then turned away, bringing her hand to the flowers once more. Her fingers gently grazed the petals of the pink roses. "Her not being there is not the end of the world," she stated.

"But it would make things more complete."

As her hand hovered over the flowers, they slowly lost their bloom and began to wilt.

Harry watched in astonishment as the petals turned dark brown. "What's wrong with the flowers?"

Her eyes were glassy as she stared at him, her face tense and tight.

Harry touched her face. "What happened to your flowers?"

She broke out of her trance and looked down at the sad and pathetic plants, as mold began to develop on them. She moved her hand away. "Oh, the freshness spell doesn't last forever. The flowers go bad after a couple of years."

Harry brought his brows together. "I thought the spell was everlast-"

"Oh, who cares about some stupid flowers? I could always buy more." She snatched the letter from his hands and took one last hard look at it before placing it on the table.

She then grabbed his face and held it between her palms. "Let's not talk about Hermione anymore. What's done is done." She sat up and entwined her arms around his neck. She bend down and kissed him. Then she brought her mouth to his ear. "Why don't we finish what we began?"

He pulled away. "I don't know. I'm not in the mood anymore." He looked down at his body, his excitement was gone and his organs were relaxed and placid once more. "All this talk about the stag party has been a bit of a turn-off."

She sat so her knees were on either side of his body. "Don't worry about that. I'll be more than happy to help you out in that department." She reached down and her fingers began to work their magic on him once more.

He closed his eyes as that warm touch surrounded him, encircling and stroking him. He was then ready to do what he had wanted the moment he sprang from the shower. He leaned forward, falling onto her body as they caressed. They lay there for several minutes, clutching onto one another's body.

"Not here," she whispered. "Let's go to bed."

He carried her into the bedroom and fell with her on the bed. Before they began making love, he was already seducing her with his eyes as they gazed down her naked body, enjoying the curves that she always kept hidden. He lay on top of her, basking in the feel of her skin.

He kissed her and was about to proceed with more, when she said, "Turn off the lights first."

He pulled away and looked down at her face. He began to laugh as Justin's words suddenly popped into his head.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing." He leaned down and kissed her again.

************

Cho rolled onto her side, her arm landing on his chest. He brought that hand to his lips and kissed it, before placing it on her side of the bed. He looked at her; she was fast asleep. There was a pleasant smile on her lips; she was clearly basking in the afterglow of their activities as she slumbered.

He was unable to sleep, spending most of his time staring out into the semi dark room, which was dimly illuminated by the hazy glow of moonlight that seeped through the window. He got up from the bed and carefully made his way out of the room, trying his best not to stub his toes on the furniture.

He crept to her sitting room and was instantly greeted with bright lights. "Dim," he whispered and the lights in the room softened to a light pink hue. He approached the little chair near the servant bell, and there were his clothes, washed, iron and neatly folded. He shook his head, amazed at the efficiency of her house-elves.

After getting dressed, he paced the room, trying to calm his jittery nerves. He walked to the small window and opened it, letting the cool breeze hit his face. His senses now fully aroused, he decided that a walk would do him some good. He at first considered strolling around the manor's immense gardens, but fear of being seen by her parents made him erase that option from his mind.

His hand drifted to his stomach as it began to rumble. His discomfort over having people watch him eat had prevented him from enjoying his dinner that night. Her house-elves would undoubtedly oblige his every desire, but he knew they were still preparing for the wedding and he didn't want to add to their responsibilities.

He stole a quick glance back into her bedroom to make sure she was still asleep, she was. He put on his coat, deciding he would only be gone a few minutes; he would return before she even noticed his absence.

He apparated onto a street corner, just outside a pub. As he prepared to cross the street, another pedestrian trotted by, bumping into him. "Excuse me," said Harry. He watched as the other man continued walking as if nothing had happened, muttering obscenities under his breath. Harry stood still and squinted. "Seamus?"

Seamus turned around. "Hey Harry. I didn't even see you there." He walked back to where Harry was standing and stared at him, his eyes narrowed.

Harry observed the queer statement on the other man's face. "What's wrong with you?"

"Ron wouldn't happen to be with you, would he?"

"No. Neville took him home. Remember? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's just that I'm going to kill him when I see him. I hope he'll be sober at your wedding because I'll feel bad about beating up a drunk man." Seamus brought his fist into his palm.

"What did he-"

"He promised he would pay for my entry into the club. But then he had to go and get drunk. So when we reached the club, I realized I didn't have any money, but Justin and Dean had already gone inside. I spent two hours sitting outside, waiting for them to come out. I could just kill someone right about now." He threw his head back. "God, I hate being poor!"

"Seamus, I could have given you the money."

"Well, it's a little late for that now." He took a deep breath and looked at Harry. "I'm sorry. I'm just a little upset at the moment." He closed his eyes and sighed loudly.

Harry placed his hand on the man's shoulder. "Why are you so wound up about not getting a lap dance?"

"It's not just the dance, it's everything. It's my whole damn life." He began to blink rapidly as his eyes got misty. "Nothing goes the way I plan. Everything turns out bad for me. Everyone else is living the good life, but me."

"That's not true."

"Yes it is. I've got nothing good in my life. I find myself envying everyone, even Neville. He's rich now. Who knew his grandmother had all that money? I wish I had a rich relative who would drop dead and leave me a big inheritance."

"Seamus, don't say stuff like that. You've got a lot going for you."

"Like what? Everyone's got career plans, but me. You and Ron are going to be stars, Neville's going into international relations, Dean's training to an Auror, Justin is doing something and then there's me. I've got nothing, no career and no girlfriend. Even fat Neville's got a girl. How the hell he got Padma is beyond me."

"I thought you were going to train with Dean? You made such a big deal about being an Auror."

Seamus sat down on the curb and rested his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees. "They did offer me a position, but I turned them down. I suddenly got scared, thinking I didn't have the right qualifications. But then I realized they wouldn't have offered my the job if they didn't think I was the right man."

He dropped his head and looked down at the ground. "When I went back to tell them I had changed my mind, they said the position was already filled. I'll have to wait until next year. A whole year. What am I going to do with myself till then? I should've just taken the damn job when I had the chance."

"You're not the only one who's passed up an opportunity," Harry muttered in a low voice. He sat down next to the other man and put his arm around his shoulders.

"Now, when everyone else is earning a great living," continued Seamus, "I'll be sitting home on my arse, eating beans on toast."

"Don't worry, things will work out for you." He began to rub Seamus' back, not knowing what to tell him, trying to think up some words of encouragement. "Hey, I know. Why don't you go to the Ministry again and try to convince that you're the man for the job. And if they still say no, then maybe there's a position open for a Hit Wizard."

Seamus shook his head. "Nah. I like the intelligence part of being an Auror. That's my specialty."

"Then go back there and show off your secret agent skills. You just have to be persistent. If you want something bad enough, you can get it. Plus I know they're looking for someone now, since Sirius."

Seamus looked at him, as it was now his turn to console his friend. "I heard what happened to him. I'm really sorry. How's he doing?"

"He's fine," murmured Harry. "It's just a bit weird for him to suddenly be dependent on other people. But he's adjusting. He's getting really good with that wheelchair. I raced him in the hospital corridors and he beat me every time."

He looked around, suddenly wondering why Seamus had been walking by himself. "What are you doing around this side of town? The club is nowhere near here."

"I just walked over here to get out some of my frustrations. The guys said they would meet me just around the corner in a few minutes. They went to visit Dean's lady friend and to pick up his car."

"Dean has a car?"

"Yeah. Justin's gotten him into loving all things Muggle. But I don't know why he has the thing, he can't even operate it."

Just as he spoke, Dean pulled up in the car with Justin. Harry and Seamus quickly jumped onto the sidewalk. The car's tires spun incredibly fast, hitting the curb as it came to an abrupt stop. The loud thumping of music blared out the windows.

"You asshole," said Seamus. "You almost hit us."

Dean took a puff of his cigarette and casually glanced at him. "Just get in the car."

As Seamus opened the car door, billows of white smoke came oozing out in large clouds. Seamus coughed and began to fan the smoke out of his face. "What on earth are you smoking?"

"Just a little something I picked up in a Muggle neighborhood."

"It smells funny."

"Yeah, but they're really good. Right Justin?"

Justin lay in the backseat, his head resting against the window. "Yeah," he managed to mumble. His eyes were cloudy and half closed.

Harry eyed the back seat passenger with some concern. "Justin, are you all right?"

Justin looked at him and gave him a toothy grin. "I'm perfectly fine." He then blew smoke out of his nostrils.

Harry took a step back as the smoke hit his face. He recognized the smell immediately. It was something he was strangely familiar with, in due part to Dudley. He had often smelled that odor coming out of Dudley's bedroom.

Seamus stuck his head out of the car window. "Thanks for the encouragement. I'll go to the Ministry after your wedding."

Harry was about to say something in return, when Dean hit the accelerator. The green-eyed man jumped back as the car sped away. He watched as they rounded the corner and were gone from his sight.

Standing alone, he wondered where he should go. But deep down, he knew exactly where he would head to next. He had not apparated in some random neighborhood; this was where Hermione lived.

************

She sat in the chair in front of the television, the sound turned down low as to not awaken her roommates. Her feet were propped up on a stool, Crookshanks sleeping on the floor next to her.

She stared at the television, looking through it as if in a daze. Then her eyes flickered to the broken pieces of what used to be her radio, scattered along the floor. She was about to turn off her television and go to bed, when there was a sudden knock on the door.

She glanced at her clock; it was three in the morning. She approached the door and looked through the peephole. And there he was, standing in the hall with a grin on his face, as if he knew she was observing him. She slowly opened the door.

The two stared at each other for a few minutes, before he broke the silence. "Hi."

"What are you doing here? It's three in the morning."

"I know. I'm really sorry for disturbing you. I'll go and let you get some rest." He made his way to the winding staircase, and halted. He looked back at her once more.

"Harry, you don't have to go. Come on in."

"Are you sure? You look like you're ready for bed."

"I've been awake all night. I'm not tired." She left the door open as she made her way into the kitchen. She glanced over her shoulder; he stayed perched in the hallway. "Come in and I'll make you some tea."

He slowly walked into the flat and closed the door behind him. As he approached the kitchen, he spotted the broken pieces of wood on the floor. "What's that?"

"That used to be my radio. Crookshanks knocked it over."

Harry squinted to get a better look at the pieces. "That cat of yours sure did smash it into bits."

"Do you want some scones?" she asked quickly. "I think I might have some left-over."

He sat at the small kitchen table, as she poured him some tea and placed a plate of scones and jam in front of him. She then seated herself across from him.

"So, did you get the book you wanted?" Harry asked.

"No."

"Why not? After all that hoopla you created about getting it?"

"I had too much on my mind."

He picked up a scone and lathered it with strawberry jam, before popping it into his mouth.

She observed with some astonishment as he inhaled another one, smacking his lips in the process.

"I didn't know you were so hungry," she said. "I think Hannah made some bangers and mash for her and Penelope's dinner. Would you like that as well?"

With his mouth still full, he nodded his head.

She picked up her wand from the counter and tapped it on the table. A plate of steaming hot sausages and mashed potatoes appeared before him. She sat back in her chair and watched him eat, enjoying the faint grunting sounds he made. "Did you enjoy your dedication?"

Harry looked up at her from his plate. "My what?"

"The dedication on the radio. Didn't you hear it?"

"Yeah. I didn't think anyone." He pushed his food away. "How did you know about that?" She kept quiet. He let his eyes wander to the living room and to the shards of wood in the carpet.

Seeing where his gaze was directed, she asked, "Did Cho do that to surprise you?"

"Yeah. Except things didn't work out the way she had hoped. I didn't realize the song was for me."

Hermione watched his face, observing the slow smile that crept onto his lips as he talked of his fianc‚e.

"I actually couldn't remember the song," he continued, "but she told me it was played during-"

"The Yule Ball," muttered Hermione.

"Yeah, that's right. Everyone seems to remember that, but me. Anyway, you should have seen her when that song came on; she nearly jumped to the ceiling." He chuckled.

She did not return his smile and lowered her head.

He took another sip of his tea and looked around the room. Leaning against the wall in the corner was her trunk. "I guess you're all packed and ready to head off to Hogwarts," he said. "It's a good thing you have room mates who can look after this place while you're away."

He looked at her for a response, but she kept quiet, her head in the same lowered position. She had now brought one hand to her face, shielding her expression as she stared down into her lap.

"Herm, is there something-"

"Why did you have to chase after me tonight?"

He put down his tea and flashed her a puzzled look. "Well, it's obvious that your letter disturbed me. I was really upset when I read it. For you to write something like that was really hurtful, you know that? And I couldn't let you walk out of my life, not after all that we've been through."

His brows knitted together into a puzzled look as he examined her face. "Why would you do something like that?"

"I just thought it would be better for all of us," she said. "It would make everyone's life a little easier." Her voice was very faint; he had to strain just to hear what she was saying. "It would be better for Cho because she hates me. I would be better for me cause then I wouldn't have to pretend to be happy for you."

"What about me? How would I benefit from my best friend not being around?"

"Without me, you could devote all your time into being Mr. Cho Chang."

"This is not funny Herm. I would have missed you." He reached across the table and grabbed her hand, stroking her skin. "You have been a constant in my life for seven years and now you think you can just disappear and it wouldn't affect me?"

She did not utter a word. He was starting to grow frustrated by her lack of response. "That's not fair what you did." His voice was now growing louder, feeling himself tremble as the emotions began to rush through him. "What you did was cowardly. You don't drop a bomb like that and just leave. You have to stick around and be prepared for the consequences."

Her head snapped up and she jerked in her seat. She pulled her hand from his gasp. "Don't you lecture me on what's cowardly and what's fair."

He gasped when he saw her face. No wonder she kept her head down, he thought. Her cheeks were tear stained as the large drops flowed from her eyes. There was intensity in her glare that he had not expected.

"It's okay for you to sit there and criticize me," she stated, "but you don't know what I was going through."

She brought her hand to her face and wiped away the teardrop that drizzled down her cheek. "Don't you think that it hurt me to write that letter? Don't you think I too wanted nothing more than to be with you? But I decided that it was for the best that we not spend any time together."

Her voice was choked as she tried to hold back her sobs, which were increasing. He could see that she was struggling just to be able to speak.

"I was prepared to go on with my life," she said, "and forget about the past. But then you had to come after me."

Her breathing was now heavy as her chest began to sharply heave in and out. She finally gave up her battle with her emotions and sat back in her chair crying. "Why did you have to come after me?" she asked in a weak voice. "Why did you have to stir all those emotions in me?"

He opened his mouth to say something, but she interrupted him. "Why couldn't you just let me go on my way, get on with my life? That way, we would have gotten over each other."

"What do you mean `gotten over each other?'"

She wiped the last of her tears and snorted. "Oh, I forgot. You're still in denial."

"How am I in denial? I have made myself perfectly clear to-" He stopped talking when he noticed the way in which she stared at him.

"You mean you wouldn't have kissed me if that man hadn't interrupted us? You were just lowering your head for nothing?" When he didn't say anything to her, she shook her head. "Now you know why I wanted to get away from you. Whenever we get together, something always happens."

She observed his face and the way he avoided her gaze. She sat up straight in her chair. "Fine. Deny that something was going to happen."

"I'm not denying anything," he finally admitted. "I just think we can work this out. We don't have to stop seeing each other completely."

He reached across the table and took hold of her hand once more. "I love you."

He immediately looked down when those words escaped from his mouth. "You and Ron," he added quickly. "You are like family to me. I'm sure we can resolve things to a point where we both feel comfortable around each other."

"When? You have your honeymoon, and then afterwards, you'll be at training camp with the Cannons. Plus, I'll be away at Hogwarts for most of the year. So when will you have time to resolve this?"

"I don't know. We'll be able to squeeze in a day where-"

She quickly pulled away from his touch. "You know what? Forget about it. We don't have to resolve this right away. I'm sure we can just wait until you cheat on Cho with me. That would be a perfect time."

Harry dropped his head and began to knead his forehead with his fingers. "Things will not lead to that."

"I'm glad you seem so confident with yourself."

"I am confident. I know that what you have for me was induced by your breakup with Krum. But I assure you that nothing will happen between us. Because I love Cho." He stopped talking when he realized how much he emphasized that last sentence, making it sound a bit too forced for his liking.

"This has nothing to do with Krum," she fired back. "The breakup was mutual; I don't have any lingering feelings for him." She snatched the cup and plates from in front of him and brought them to the sink.

She was washing the teacup, when he came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. "We can deal with this," he whispered into her ear. "I want you to be at the wedding. I want you around on the most important day of my life."

His body was now against hers. Hermione stood still and closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his hands as they travel from her shoulders to the sides of her body, moving up and down.

"Please say you'll be at the wedding," he breathed.

As he moved closer to her, his hot chest melted perfectly with her back. Soon, she felt something rubbing against her bottom. Before she could guess what was pressing into her with such force, a faint beeping noise came into the room.

Harry pulled away. "It's Cho," he said looking down at his watch. "She must really need me. This thing only beeps when it's an emergency." He went to the table and picked up his jacket from the back of the chair. "I guess I shouldn't have left her alone like that."

He turned and looked at Hermione. "I need to know your answer before I leave."

"And what answer would that be?"

His warm breath was on her ear once more, "I want you to say you'll be at the wedding."

The beeping noise was getting louder and soon flooded the room.

"I really want you to be there today," he continued. "It would mean so much to me for you to stand by my side, to witness this event in my life."

"You have Ron. He'll be there for you, if he can recover from his hangover. You don't need me around. Plus I'll look awkward standing there."

"Herm, you won't look awkward. You'll look beautiful standing up there in your dress. Your gown is the same color as the robes you wore in our first Yule Ball. You looked stunning then, you'll be equally radiant today."

He wrapped his arms around her waist. "If you're not there," he uttered, "who's gonna tell off Ron when he gets out of line? And who's gonna be ready with a counter curse when Snape starts hexing the other guests?"

A smile came to her lips as he continued to coax her into attending the wedding, his warm breath moving from her ear, to her neck. "Fine," she said. "I'll be there."

"Great. That's the best news I've heard in a long time."

"Well, I'm glad you're so happy." She turned off the water and put the teacup on the tray to dry. "What time do you want me to be there?" She waited for his response while she dried her hands. "Harry?"

She turned around. He was gone.