The One That Got Away

Chapter 7: I've Been in Secret Relationships, Too

When Harry apparated into the sitting room, he was taken aback by the loud noises and chattering that suddenly enveloped him and overwhelmed his senses, causing him to take a step backward as his ears adjusted to the clamor. The bridesmaids were situated on the floor in the corner of the room, talking loudly amongst themselves. But they soon quieted down when the maid of honor stood up and began to construct them on the proper way to walk down the aisle.

"I want you all to take small lady-like steps," she said. "I don't want you to run down the aisle like some race horse, the way Gemma was doing during the rehearsal." She swiveled her head and glared at the redhead sitting down on her right.

Harry quietly crept to the doors leading to Cho's bedroom, making sure not to step on the pink silk gloves and rose bouquets that were lying on the floor. He also took care not to draw any attention to himself. As he pushed back the sliding glass doors, a raven-haired young woman turned around and glanced at him. Seeing that she was about to say something, he brought his finger to his lips, signaling for her to remain quiet.

As Harry stood in the doorway, the young woman's eyes remained on him, slowly traveling up and down the length of his body, lingering on certain parts in the process. He was suddenly encompassed by uneasiness, as he was reminded of the stares he often received from the girls at Hogwarts when he walked down the halls.

Before he was able to enter the other room, she winked at him. He stopped to stare at her for a moment, his brows drawn together as he eyed the coy smile on the corner of her glossy lips. That was not the first time she had done that to him; his entire relationship with Cho had been plagued with winks and suggestive glances from the woman.

The only time she had done anything physical towards him was the previous week at his house, when she had cornered him in an empty hallway on his way to the library, as he sought solitude from the partygoers. She pressed herself against his body, her left hand traveling down his back, giving him a firm pinch on the bum.

He could not move as he was shocked at how brazen she was being at the moment, apparently risking the chance that one of the other women would see her actions. He took one last look at her before heading into the other room and shutting the doors.

He was on his way to Cho's dressing room, where he knew she would be getting ready, when loud laughing coming from outside led him to the grand windows of the bedroom. He looked out of the glass and saw members of the Chang family walking around the gardens below. Lead by Mr. and Mrs. Chang, the party made their way up the small bridge over the carp pond, towards the gazebo, which was now being decorated for the ceremony.

As the family disappeared out of sight, a pained expression spread on Harry's face as he thought how none of his blood relatives would be present at the wedding. He doesn't know what possessed him to invite the Dursleys, considering he was not in good terms with them when he had vacated their home the year before. Regardless, he had driven to their house and handed the invitation to his uncle. But Vernon had handed it right back, showing little interest in the youngster's nuptials. In fact, the only person who seemed somewhat intrigued to attend was Dudley, whose fat face lit up when he saw the moving pictures on the invitation.

Harry opened the door to Cho's dressing room, one of the few rooms in the house he had never entered before. The splendor of the room rivaled only that of the manor's grand ballroom; the walls were covered in ivory silk wallpaper and a chandelier hung from the doomed ceiling that was enchanted to resemble the night sky.

Cho was seated before him at her dressing table, looking at her image in the mirror as she applied her makeup. She was only wearing a satin robe and he could see her stockings and the beginning of what looked like a garter belt on her exposed leg.

Even though the well-sculpted leg was a delectable sight indeed, it was not enough to keep his eyes from darting to the open shelves on his left that held all of her clothes. Although he knew most of her things were packed, there were still a large amount of robes, shoes and purses sitting on the various cabinets.

"Cho let me help you with your dress," said the house-elf at the other end of the room. "It has to go over your head, so be careful that you don't mess up your hair."

Glancing up, she nearly dropped the garment when she saw Harry standing by the door. "What on earth are you doing in here?" she asked as she narrowed her eyes on the green-eyed man. "You are not supposed to see the bride before the wedding. And certainly not when she is half naked."

Hearing the house-elf say her fiancé's name, Cho turned around in her chair and glanced up at him. She placed whatever was in her hands on the counter and jumped out of her seat. "Why are you so late? The photographer's going to be here soon."

"I'm sorry," Harry said. He looked down at his feet, thinking how he had spent more time at Hermione's than he had planned. After Ms. Granger had thrown him out of her bedroom, he had seated himself on the living room couch, petting Crookshanks - who had finally decided to give him the time of day.

Before he could explain himself, the house-elf placed her hands around Cho's waist and pulled her away. She positioned her small body between Harry and Cho's and lifted the wedding dress high in the air, as she attempted to shield the young lady's body from Harry's prying eyes. She glanced over her shoulder at Cho, and eyed her robes, which were slipping off her shoulders and exposing her bra. "Will you please cover yourself up? You should show a little bit more modesty."

The old house-elf directed her glare at Harry once more. "Now get out. It's inappropriate for you to be in here, regardless of your past activities with Cho."

"Olga," screeched Cho.

Harry lowered his head, hoping that his cheeks would not turn a bright crimson and give away his embarrassment. When he glanced up, the house-elf's large amber eyes were still on him, glaring at him with disapproval.

"I have kept your meetings with Cho a secret from her parents for long enough," the elderly house-elf spouted, a look of disgust spreading across her face at the same time, "but I will not tolerate this sort of behavior anymore."

"I'm sorry," said Harry. "I didn't mean to offend you in any way. I'll leave."

Cho walked up to him and stopped him from escaping the room by placing her body in front of the door. "You don't have to go. I want you here with me." She looked over Harry's shoulder at Olga. "He's going to be my husband in a few hours. And I don't think it's right for you to kick him out."

An enraged look spread on Olga's face. "But he certainly can't be in here while you get dressed, it's indecent."

"He can just turn around."

Harry placed a hand on Cho's waist, and got a stern look from the house-elf when his fingers accidentally brushed up against his fiancée's bosom, pushing the loosely secured robe out of place and thus exposing more of her bra. He immediately brought his arm back to his side. He leaned in close to Cho's ear and whispered, "I don't want to cause any trouble here. I just wanted to say hi anyways.

She grabbed his shirt and mouthed, "Stay." Turning around, she then got down on one knee and faced Olga. "He won't look, I promise."

"Fine," the house-elf muttered in a tight voice under her breath.

Harry turned and faced the door, as Cho and her overprotective servant went to the other end of the room. Soon, all he could hear was the rustling of fabric.

"I really missed you this morning," Cho said.

Harry glanced over his shoulder. "I'm sorry I had to take off, but--" He paused when Olga, who was standing on a high stool as she lifted the dress over Cho's half naked body, glared at him. He immediately faced the door once more.

"What were you saying?" his future bride asked.

"I had company coming over. Sirius dropped by." As he talked to the door, Harry stopped to think of the absurdity of what Olga was forcing him to do. He didn't know why he couldn't just face Cho, seeing that he had just catch sight of her in her under things; he had seen her in less on numerous occasions. But he obeyed Olga's orders and continued to stare at the wood door. Plus, he knew the house-elf was probably watching him at that exact moment.

"Sirius? I didn't know they released him from the hospital already."

"Cho," snapped Olga, "could you please pay more attention to what you're doing? You're going to tear the gown."

"How's--"

Harry couldn't hear the rest of Cho's sentence, as it came out sounding muffled. He guessed her dress was going over her head at that time.

"How's he doing?" she asked again.

"A lot better than when you last saw him." A smile spread on his face as he thought of his godfather, who was probably back in his wheelchair, being pushed around the gardens by Dobby. Harry's hand traveled to his neck, as he recalled his earlier conversation with the other man. "About the guesthouse," he said rather quickly, "I've decided that Sirius should..." He then took a long pause.

Harry reached into the pocket of his trousers, his fingers wrapping around a piece of thread, as he concentrated on what he would say next. "I talked to Sirius about it and he's happy with the plan."

He gulped audibly, realizing his sentences were coming out sounding ambiguous. He pulled his hand out of his pocket and looked down at it. His eyes grew wide with surprise when he saw that there was actually a long strand of brown hair wrapped around his index finger.

He closed his eyes and brought his hand to his nose, allowing himself to be consumed by the aroma of her shampoo: a crisp clean smell that lingered with a hint of rose. Thoughts of a previous summer spent at The Burrow, when he, Ron, and Hermione would be seated at the kitchen table, eagerly waiting for Molly Weasley to place the plates of sausages and eggs before them, flooded back into his memory. Hermione would be sitting on his right, her freshly washed hair still moist and emanating the same scent that had now enraptured him.

That time spent at the Weasleys' was relaxing, as he was able to escape thoughts of Voldemort for that short period of time. And his relationship with Hermione had not yet been complicated by the emotional ramifications that was brought along by their sexual union - which would occur months later, and reduce their interactions to a series of awkward moments accompanied by bashful glances and reddening cheeks.

But those days are never to be had again, he thought. Hermione's once jovial face was replaced by the images of that afternoon, and the strange behavior that he had witnessed. Then suddenly, as if his temporary amnesia had been lifted, he remembered why he had stayed so late at Hermione's house; the announcement that she had no intentions of attending the wedding had forced him to stay, hoping his extended presence in the flat would convince her to change her mind.

He lowered his gaze to the floor, his face becoming glum as he thought of Hermione's absence. His hand went back into his trousers and deposited that strand of hair into his pocket, as it had now lost the happy memories that had once been associated with it.

"Harry," said the house-elf, who was now standing beside him, her long, bony fingers on his shirt. "You can turn around now and look at your future bride."

Harry slowly pivoted, and glanced at Cho. She was standing in the center of the room, her hands running up and down the long cream-colored gown, her fingers lightly grazing the delicate silk fabric.

"What do you think?" Cho asked.

His spirit still clouded with sadness from his previous thoughts of Hermione, Harry was only able to mutter, "It's nice."

Olga, who was displaying what could have been interpreted as a smile as her large eyes washed over Cho, gazed up at him.

Seeing the disappointed look on Cho's face and the unrelenting glare coming from Olga, Harry cleared his throat. "I mean you look beautiful," he said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. He forced his lips into a grin, but quickly lowered his head when neither Cho's nor the house-elf's hard gaze changed.

"Great choice of a husband you've made," Olga stated. "He can't even give his future wife and mother of his children a genuine compliment."

Cho brought her hand onto the house-elf's shoulder. "Olga please be kind."

Olga moved away from Cho and placed her hands on her small hips, glaring up at Harry. "Just because everyone in the wizarding community fawns over him, doesn't mean I will too."

She kept her narrowed eyes on him as she made her way to the door. "I will give you ten minutes to be alone, and do.... whatever. But after that, you" she said, sticking a bony finger out at Harry, "will have to go." She paused at the door for a moment, and glanced over her shoulder at Cho. "Don't do anything improper in here."

When Olga had left, Cho approached Harry and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'm really sorry about that. She always thinks we're in here doing something sexual. She never believes when I say we spend most of our time talking."

Just out of curiosity, Harry pressed his ear to the door, sure that Olga would be standing at the other end, waiting with sheer anticipation for any grunting or moaning noises to come wafting into her large ears. Noticing the look on Cho's face, he signaled for her to keep quiet, as he did not want Olga to have a heads up on what he was doing. He waited several minutes at the door, holding his breath so she would not hear him. After he had gotten ample evidence that no one was there, he pulled away.

"You can never be too careful," he said. "Are you sure you want her to come and live with us? You don't think she'll have a stroke about us sharing a bedroom?"

Cho pulled away, as it was now her turn to place her hands on her hips. "Don't say that. I know she's a bit stern at times--" Harry opened his mouth to utter a smart-alecky retort, but she lifted her hand in the air and prevented him from saying a word. "Like I was saying before. She has her good points. She's very loyal, works hard and has never tattled on my parents about you coming over here."

"True," said Harry, thinking of all the opportunities the elderly house-elf could have told her parents about their nightly rendezvous. But remaining quiet was not the only thing she had done to help out the couple; she always made sure the staff washed Harry's clothes, and that they awoke to a large tray of food every morning.

"But I still think she hates me," he said.

"She doesn't hate you. She's just a little old-fashioned. And very protective of me."

Harry thought Olga possessed those two qualities in abundance. The house-elf was of a different generation and had very strong and limited views of what was and was not appropriate behavior for a man and woman. The green-eyed man thought Olga had become possessive of Cho over the years. But he couldn't blame her, since she had raised his future bride from infancy. Although she had always been surly to Harry from the beginning, her hatred towards him did not fully surface till she caught him in Cho's bed the previous summer.

Cho's face became serious as she glanced down her dress. "You don't like it, do you?"

"It's lovely," he said, with more sincerity in his voice.

"I'll look more beautiful when I finish getting ready." She walked back to the large granite counter and busied herself with the activities he had seen her conducting when he first entered the room.

Harry pulled up a large armchair from the corner of the room and propped himself into it. As he sank into the soft fabric of the chair, he stared up at the bright lights encompassing the entire length of the mirror. He lost himself in the soft glow of the illumination, as he thought of how Cho's vanity was a grander and more elegantly appointed versions of Hermione's.

"What's wrong?" she asked, seeing the look on his face in the mirror.

"I was just thinking about Hermione," he muttered nonchalantly. Still engrossed in his own thoughts, he did not see that she was now glaring at him. "I paid her a visit today, and we had a very unusual conversation."

The bottle of lotion Cho was holding in her hands fell onto the counter with a loud thud. She was able to catch the small jar before it rolled onto the floor. She glanced over her shoulder once more and raised a delicate brow. "What did you and Hermione talk about?"

"She said she wasn't coming to the wedding." Harry dropped his gaze from the alluring light fixtures to his future bride's face, noticing how was now staring at him with great interest. "But she wouldn't tell me why she had changed her mind about attending. She mentioned something about being too embarrassed to come. I tried to talk to her about it, but she already had her mind set."

"That's too bad," Cho replied. She then turned around and opened her bottle of lotion, applying the fragrant substance to her hands and arms.

There was a heavy silence between them, the only noise in the room was the sounds the various objects made when Cho lifted them, and then placed them back on the counter.

"Do you think I'm slow in reacting to things?" Harry asked.

Cho brought her brows together and glanced at him. "What?"

"Do you think I don't react to things in a timely manner?" Before she had the chance to ponder the question, he had begun talking again. "I don't think that about myself." He placed his finger to his temple, as he fell back into deep thought, obviously recalling past episodes that reinforced that opinion of himself. "When we got engaged, didn't I immediately start searching for a place for us to live?"

A smug smile spread on his face as he thought back to how he tackled that task, first hiring an estate agent to assist him with his search, and then finally calling about the help of his friend's mother. But that smile soon faded when he heard her snort loudly. He snapped back to reality and glanced at her. "What?"

"You only went looking for the house after I spent about two weeks badgering you about it. Remember all those owls I send you at school?" She put down her brush and glared at him. "Which you never responded to, by the way. I finally got you to take action after I sent you that Howler."

He looked down again, thinking of the snickering he received from his fellow classmates when his fiancée's message went off during breakfast. The vivid expression on a certain blond Slytherin's face still remained with him till that day.

"If it wasn't for me," she continued, "you and I would be living with Sirius in that tiny flat of his. Oh, that reminds me, one of my friends said he put his place on the market. I guess he can't live there anymore because it's not handicapped accessible. Do you know where he's planning to move?"

Harry knew the moment had come for him to reveal all to her, but he hesitated and eventually lost his gumption. He stared up at her with blank eyes and shook his head.

She faced her mirror again and began to apply her makeup. "Why did you bring up the topic about your inability to act."

"Hermione said I didn't act swiftly--"

"Can we please not talk about her again?" interrupted Cho.

Although he wanted someone to help him analyze what could be bothering his seemingly temperamental friend, Harry immediately stopped talking, as the recollection of last night's argument was still fresh in his mind. He stretched out his feet and rested his head against the chair, as he continued to watch Cho get ready.

Humming an obscure tune to himself and looking down at his shoes as he tapped them on her thickly carpeted floor, he glanced up to discover she was staring at him. Her face screwed in a twisted grimace, she curiously eyed him. The large grin disappeared from his face, and he settled his hands in his lap, ceasing the foolish activity he had been engaged in.

"I just noticed you're not in your tux," she said.

"It only takes me a few minutes to get ready, so I'll get dressed when I leave here. I think all the guys should also be dressed by the time I get back." He then thought of his houseguests. Ron would surely still be on the sofa, he mused. A smile spread on his face when he imagined a toga clad Neville standing over the redhead, slowly fanning him with a giant banana leaf. But that smile faded as his thoughts narrowed and concentrated on one houseguest in particular.

"I had a long chat with Dean earlier," Harry said. He paused long enough to see if she would react to the mention of the other man's name; she made no reaction and continued to put on her earrings. "He said he's not coming to the wedding."

She stopped her actions for a moment and glanced over her shoulder at him. But just as quickly, she faced her mirror and began fixing her hair. "That's too bad," she responded casually. "He's a really nice guy."

He watched as her fingers weaved in and out of the delicate bun on her head, trying to fix the strands that had come loose from the hairstyle. "Oh, this is ridiculous," she muttered. She grabbed her wand from the counter and tapped it against her head. "What style do you like?"

Harry remained quiet for a moment. "Were you and Dean close friends?"

She continued to tap her wand against her head, watching her hair change from curly ringlets to straight. "Why would you ask that?"

"No particular reason."

"I would really like my hair down, but I don't want it to get in my face. When you kiss me, I don't want you to get a mouthful of hair. What do you think--"

"When did Dean come over to your house?" He watched as she kept her wand on her head for a moment, before placing it down on the vanity. "It's just that he mentioned coming over to your place, and I was just wondering when it happened. He even said he encountered Olga."

Cho glanced over at him. He sat back in his chair, thinking she would give him an explanation. But she looked away.

"Cho," he said again.

"He was only here a couple of times. Nothing more."

He remained quiet, as he didn't want to seem as though he was pressuring her to talk. He assumed she would start talking if there was more that had to be said.

She got up from her seat and turned her chair around, facing him. She lowered her head and then glanced up at him through her long lashes. "We shared a kiss once in the den. Olga caught us and gave Dean quite a tongue lashing."

Harry drew in a deep breath, as he had not been prepared for that piece of information. He had expected her to talk a mere flirtation that they shared, not actual physical contact. The revelation was a bit of a shock since she had been so honest with him about her past romantic dealings. He knew she had been sexual with one other person, whose name they never utter. He was also aware of one or two other people she had briefly dated after that, but Dean's name had never been mentioned.

Cho lowered her gaze, as she tried to hide the smile that was now developing on her face. "Poor Dean," she said with a slight melancholy in his voice. "When Olga told my parents about what he had done, they went through the roof and said he couldn't visit anymore."

"Wait a minute," he interjected, "your father once caught us making out in the library and he never said anything."

"That's because he knew you and I were in love. Plus he approved of you. He knew you had a good head on your shoulders. I think he thought Dean was a bit of a lost cause, with no hopes of a future. Poor guy."

Harry recognized that caring tone that was now in her voice, causing him to wonder about her relationship with the other man. "Did you guys date?"

"No. It was a one-time thing." Her head was still lowered, her long silky hair blocking her face. She quickly glanced up at him. "I invited him over here because his parents were gone on holiday for the summer, and he was all alone. I guess I felt sorry for him. We were just sitting on the couch talking, and that's when we kissed."

She remained quiet for a long time afterwards, her eyes steady on Harry, probably trying to guess what could have been running through his mind at that time, and what he must of thought about her.

"We never did anything other than kiss," she went on. "That was a very difficult time for me. It was right after the Tri-Wi--" She stopped talking and gazed down at her hands. "Anyways, I didn't say anything to you because you guys were in the same house and I thought it would make you feel weird. Plus, nothing really happened between he and I that made it worth mentioning."

She got up from her chair and sat on his lap, draping her arm around his shoulders. "Are you mad I kept it from you?"

Harry shook his head. "I could never be mad at you for something like that. Anyway, I'm glad you didn't tell me while I was still in school. It would have felt a little uncomfortable dealing with Dean on a regular basis if I knew the truth about you guys."

"Well, I don't want you to be jealous or anything, because nothing happened." She lowered her head as if she was going to place a kiss on his lips, but hesitated for a moment. After some thought, she kissed him. She then laughed as she tried to get the lipstick marks off his face.

"It feels so good to finally have everything out in the open," she said, getting up from his lap. "I never really liked keeping something like that to myself."

She sat in front of her mirror again, changing the brightness of the lights with a snap of her fingers. "I don't think Dean has gotten over me yet," she said, "because last week he kept staring at me." She had a bit of a smile on her face as she talked. She looked back at Harry to see if he had witnessed her happiness; he had not, as he was too busy staring at the other end of the room. She cleared her throat and adopted a stern expression. "I was actually relieved when he finally left the party."

Harry was only half listening to what she was saying and had stopped watching her a long time ago, as he was now completely absorbed in his own thoughts. "There are some things I haven't told you about my past either," he murmured.

Cho made a face. "Harry Potter, you're an open book. I know everything there is to know about you. You never keep things from me." She turned around again and looked down at the large vanity, searching for a hairpin. "You practically told me your whole life story on our first date. I couldn't get you to shut up."

He doesn't know what made him share the entire details of his life with her that afternoon at The Three Broomsticks. All she had to do was say "Tell me about your life" to evoke such a ready response from him. He was honest with her, detailing his childhood in the dark confines of that cupboard, to his last encounters with Voldemort, before the Dark Wizard's death. His tale, of course, had differed so much from her sheltered life attending private schools and coming out parties.

The smile on her face began to diminish. "You really depressed me that day." She glanced over her shoulder and stared into his face for a moment, before getting out of her chair and kneeling in front of him. "If you ever want me to put a curse on the Dursleys for you, all you have to do is ask. I'm sure I could find a good torture spell in my grandmother's old spell book." She brought her hand to his chin, lightly touching him with the tips of her fingers.

"You don't have to do any of that." He managed a smile as she cupped his face between her hands. He then watched as she walked back to her chair, half dragging the long train of the dress in the process. "I really shouldn't have told you those horrible things. Professor Quirrell, Volde...I mean You-Know-Who. I didn't mean to give you nightmares."

"Don't say that. I love hearing about your life."

He began to wring his hands in his lap, wondering if what he was about to do was the right thing. Before he could rethink his decision, he found himself blurting out, "I've been in a relationship you know nothing about."

She brought her hands over her mouth, trying to shield her laugh. "The only person you've ever dated was me. If you had dated someone else, I'm sure news of it would have spread around the school like wildfire. Unless..." She turned around and gave him an amused smile. "Don't tell me you had a secret relationship with Ginny."

"I never dated her."

"I don't think she's gotten used to the idea that we're getting married because she was giving me a lot of attitude when I last saw her."

Harry thought back to the expression on Ginny's face a few months before, when Ron had announced - against Harry's will - to the entire common room that he was getting married to Cho. Ginny's eyes had changed from shock, to sadness and anger in a split second's time. He would have chased after her when she ran up to the dorms, but the equally shocked look on Hermione's face kept him put.

"Anyway," continued Cho. "I met up with Ginny the other day when we were both eating at the same restaurant. I was in the middle of explaining to the waitress that I didn't want any dressing on my salad, when I heard some giggling coming from behind me. She and her little friends were sitting a couple of tables away, and I could see that she was rolling her eyes at me."

Cho finally spotted her hairclip and fastened a portion of her hair in back of her head. "Oh, that reminds me. I'm so sorry about Eloise. I was told she was flirting with you at the party last week. Can you believe the nerve of that woman to do a thing like that to my future husband? Anyway, she and I had a long and heated talk right before you got here. She told me she was drunk and didn't know what she was doing, and she swore she would never do it again."

"Hermione and I slept together," Harry said.

"If it wasn't for the fact that we've known each other for so long, I would have kicked her out of the bridal--" She stopped talking, as if what he said had just reached her ears at that instance. She took her hands away from her hair and turned around, her eyes large as they stared at him.

"Hermione and I slept together," he said again, thinking he needed to utter those words a second time, to keep her from thinking she was hearing things. His heart was now beating rapidly, as he heard those words come out of his mouth. That was the first time since that following night that he had actually acknowledged the event. His breathing increased and he felt himself growing warm.

She was now facing him, clutching her diamond hairclips in her hands.

Seeing the look on her face and knowing how her mind operated, he quickly added, "This didn't happen last night. This occurred before you and I started dating."

As he went on to talk about his encounter with Hermione, he tried to keep his voice from sounding shaky and unsure. But he didn't have to try hard to accomplish this task; the words spewed from his mouth with ease and little effort, like he had rehearsed it down to the last word. In actuality he had indeed rehearsed it, as he had spend over two years pondering the events over and over again in his head.

"The only time Hermione and I had a chance to talk about this," he said, "was last night."

She continued to stare at him with wide eyes. But he noticed that the clips she once held so tightly in her hands had now fallen to the ground.

"I needed to tell you this because it has been eating at me for so long. I know it's a lot to take in at once, but I hope you can understand why I kept it from you for so long." He leaned forward in his chair, placing his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. "I really want to know what you're thinking."

He stared at her face; there was no anger present in her expression that he could immediately detect.

The silence continued for several more moments, as he wanted to give her all the time she needed to digest the information, seeing that his bombshell was greater in severity than the seemingly innocent kiss she had once shared with Dean.

When she didn't say anything to him for what seemed like an eternity of exchanging stares, he got out of his seat and approached her. He leaned against the vanity and looked down at her face. She caught his gaze for only a moment, before looking down at the floor. He touched his hand to her chin in an attempt to get her to look his way once more, but she pushed his fingers away.

He got down on his knees in front of her, his hands resting on legs, allowing him to lean in close to her face and detect the slightest emotion that flickered in her eyes. "Are you mad at me?"

She finally lifted her head and glanced at him for a mere second, before looking at her image in the mirror once more.

"I wanted to tell you all of this some time ago," he went on, "I swear I did. I just never got around to--"

"It's all right. You don't have to tell me anymore." She pushed him aside as she reached over the counter for something.

Harry remained in that squatted position, looking up at her face and wondering if she meant those words. Although she continued with her activities as if nothing had happened, her air of calmness did not fool him; he could plainly tell by her pursed lips and narrowed eyes that things were not right. He touched her knee again, as he wanted to engage her in a dialogue and make sure that there would be no lasting hostility between them.

"It's hard for me to concentrate on what on I'm doing," she said, "with you staring at me like some sort of hawk."

He pulled back for a moment. "How do you feel about this?"

Cho had her lipstick in her hand and was about to bring it to her lips, when she stopped. Slowly turning her head towards him, she said, "I need some fresh air, it's a bit stuffy in here." She then proceeded to get out of her chair, nearly knocking into Harry in the process. "I'll be right back."

Harry moved quickly to get to the door before her. "Before you leave," he began as he pressed his back against the door, his hand firmly on the doorknob, "I want to know if you're mad about this."

She placed her hands on her hips and glared at him. "Will you please get out of my way?" she snapped. "I feel like I'm suffocating in here."

He continued to gaze at her face, silently pleading with her to convey more, but after seeing the irritation that was now growing in her eyes, he moved out of her way and allowed her to exit the room.

He watched as she hurried past him, slamming the door close in the process. He made his way back to the seat, thinking how he should have kept his little secret to himself.