The One That Got Away

Chapter 8: Do You Want to Tell Them, or Shall I?

Cho eventually came back into the room, walking slowly through the door and refusing to make eye contact with him. She sat down on her seat once more and took a deep breath, before continuing to go about the business of getting herself ready. Harry was soon made to wonder if his future bride was not just doing those things to keep from talking to him, as she looked completely made up in his eyes. He watched as she brought the lipstick to her face, the tube hardly touching her lips.

But even she couldn't keep up the charade for very long, as her movements grew less and less, until she was sitting motionless, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes then darted to his reflection, as she began to give him a hard and long look. "Why didn't you tell me this before?" she asked. "Like when we first started dating?"

Harry continued to stare back into the mirror, as if dumbstruck by the question. He of course had numerous chances to reveal the information to her in the past. He recalled a rare opportunity when he sneaked into the Ravenclaw girls' dorm when all of Cho's roommates were away - or perhaps she asked them to make themselves scarce that afternoon. They had lied on her bed, her head resting on his shoulder, as they stared up at the ceiling, sharing details of their lives to one another. But halfway through their conversation, things turned racy, as they soon began talking about sex.

He learned that her first sexual encounter had occurred during her fifth year, right before her boyfriend at the time was to participate in the third task. She then looked at him, waiting for him to convey details of whom he had slept with. Harry had wanted to share his sexual experience with her as well, but every time he attempted to talk, nothing came out of his mouth. So, he kept quiet. He guessed Cho had attributed his silence to him being a virgin.

Additionally, the couple's disastrous first night of lovemaking helped to reinforce that notion in her head. Everything from his clumsy caresses to the way he slobbered - well, she thought he did - against her neck turned what should have been a night of passionate bliss into an evening he long hoped to forget. He still doesn't know what produced that nervousness from him; that awkwardness was not present in his encounter with Hermione.

"Harry," she said. She had now turned around in her chair and was staring at him.

Harry dropped his head and folded his hands in his lap. "I don't know," he finally muttered, staring down at his feet.

The glare from her eyes continued for several more minutes. "What kind of answer is--" She stopped talking when she heard loud knocking on the door.

"Are you ready yet?" came Olga's voice from the other end of the door.

Cho stood up from her seat and headed to the door, which she opened just a crack. "Can you please give us a few more minutes?"

Harry watched as Olga placed her hands on her narrow hips. The house-elf then leaned close to the door, as she tried to look inside the room.

He noticed that Olga had changed out of her work attire. Although the pillow case dress she was wearing earlier was in much finer condition - actually it was immaculate - compared to the dirty rags Dobby wore when he was working for the Malfoy family, Olga was now wearing a shiny light pink pillowcase that look as though it was made out of silk, with gold beading around the edges. Her large ears were bedecked with gold earrings. She looked nice, Harry thought. A little scary, with her wrinkled face and large saucer shaped eyes, but nicely groomed. She reminded him of the plastic trolls Dudley used to collect, minus the brightly colored hair.

"What are you two doing in there?" Olga asked in her normal screechy voice. "I've given you both more time than was needed to be alone." She then tried to push open the door, looking up at Cho with suspicious eyes. "Are you even dressed?"

Cho sighed loudly and opened the door for the house-elf. "As you can plainly see, I am dressed and so is Harry. We're just having a discussion and would like to be left alone."

Olga took a step into the room and began to look around, her eyes darting from left to right, perhaps looking for some evidence of wrong doing, Harry thought. She then bestowed on him a harsh glare, the same one that always made him feel uncomfortable.

"Fine," Olga finally said. But before she left the room, she took a long look at Cho, running her hand along the woman's gown. She signaled with her finger for the future bride to lower her head. She then began to talk into Cho's ear.

Harry couldn't hear what she was saying, because the house-elf had lowered her voice. But he guessed she was complimenting Cho on the way she looked, because a smile began to spread across the young woman's face.

When Olga finally left the room, Cho continued to stand near the door, her back to Harry. She then brought her forehead against the door and stayed there for a long time afterwards.

After a long silence, Harry finally got out of his chair and tentatively approached her. Standing only inches away from her body, he reached out his hand, running his fingers slowly down her spine. When she did not budge, he clasped his hands around her waist. He leaned into her body, his chest rubbing against her back and rested his head on her shoulder. "What are you thinking?" he asked into her ear, his voice soft.

"I should have guessed," uttered Cho, her head still against the door.

"Guessed what?"

"The reason Hermione always acted strangely around you." With that, she moved her shoulder to the side, pushing his face away. She turned around and walked back to her chair. But instead of facing her mirror and pretending to apply her makeup, she faced him, her legs crossed underneath her long gown, and her arms pinned to her chest.

Harry continued to linger at the door, eyeing the rigid expression on her face. He wanted to walk back to his seat, but he couldn't move. "How does Hermione act strangely?" he asked. It was an obviously silly question, for he knew the answer all along. Although civil to Cho, Hermione always had trouble keeping her affections for Harry truly hidden; she would always stare at him with darkened eyes, sit extremely close to him and--

"Harry," Cho snapped. "Did you even hear what I was saying?"

Harry blinked several times. He had been too engrossed in his own thoughts to realize she had begun talking again. "I'm sorry," he said. "What were you saying?"

"I said she's always staring at you in a weird way."

Harry almost took a step backwards when those words reached his ears. It was as though Cho had been reading his thoughts exactly. Realizing his emotions were probably showing on his face, Harry tried to adopt an expressionless look. "What do you mean?" he asked in his calmest voice.

"She's always staring at you like she loves you."

"But she does love me." Harry closed his eyes, realizing his mistake the moment those words escaped his mouth. He had spoken too quickly, he thought, not realizing the implications that his statement could have. "What I meant," he began again, this time choosing just the right words, "is that she loves me like a brother. You have to remember that she and I practically grew up together."

"I know that. But the look she gives you is different. It's not a sisterly kind of glance, but more like...." She paused for a moment. "It's the way I look at you."

She dropped her hands from her chest and brought them to her side. Sinking back into her chair, the hardened look on her face disappeared as she began to stare straight ahead. Harry at first thought she was taking inventory of her clothes, but on closer inspection of her focused eyes, he realized she was thinking. Probably thinking back to all those times she had caught Hermione staring at him.

"I always thought she had feelings for you," Cho began, "and now I know that she does."

Harry managed to let out a forced laugh. "You don't know for sure how she feels about me. She probably looks at Ron the same way too."

"She doesn't look at him the same way. Maybe you don't see it because you're a man. But I can see it. I notice the way her face lights up when she's around you, and the way she always manages to touch your arm when she's talking to you."

A smile began to grow on Harry's lips just then as he thought of his friend's habit. It was true that every time they would be involved in a conversation, Hermione's hand would reach out to him, her fingers making light contact with his skin. Or else she would place her hand on top of his. The smile had grown larger on his face, until he focused his attention back to Cho.

She of course was not smiling, but staring at him with those deep eyes that always seemed to know what he was thinking. He looked down, trying hard to chase those thoughts of Hermione out of his mind. When he looked up, her eyes were still on him. But then her gaze slowly moved away from his face, as she glanced down at her shoes.

Harry strolled back to his chair. Seeing that she didn't look angry, he moved his chair close to hers, sitting only a foot away. "Is that why you've always been cold to her?" he asked.

She lifted her head. "I've always been nice to Hermione."

"I'm not saying you've been mean, but you have to admit that you do act differently when she's around. You kinda stiffen up. She's under the impression you don't like her."

Cho took her time replying. Her silence was starting to make Harry become uncomfortable, but she eventually opened her mouth and said, "It's not that I don't like her. I just feel weird around her, every since the four of us went to Hogsmeade together."

Harry sat back in his chair, remembering the day during his sixth year when he, Ron, Hermione and Cho had gone out to dinner together. He and Cho had been dating for two months, and he thought it would be a good idea if his two best friends became better acquainted with his girlfriend. But the night had been somewhat of a disappointment, as Cho barely talked the entire evening and he and Hermione were still feeling uneasy around one another.

"I was really uncomfortable that night," she said.

He reached over and placed his hand on her knee. "I'm sorry about that. I know Ron can be a handful sometimes." Ron was indeed unruly that night. Thinking he could liven up the somber atmosphere that had enveloped their table, the redhead began to tell raunchy jokes and belch the alphabet.

Cho made a face. "No, I wasn't talking about him. I was referring to you and Hermione."

"Me and Hermione?" Harry thought back to what they could have done to make Cho feel uncomfortable.

"You guys kept finishing off each other's sentences. And she knew so much about you. More than I could ever know in a lifetime."

A somewhat relieved smile spread on Harry's face. He grabbed her left hand and held it tightly in his own. "We'll have our whole life to get to know each other better." He moved forward in his chair and attempted to place a kiss on her lips, but she turned her head to the side.

"That's not the only thing," she went on, "that bothers me about your relationship with her." She then gazed down at her gown.

Eyeing her closely, Harry was able to detect a sliver of sadness in her eyes. He wanted to stroke her face just then, run his fingers over that smooth skin until her spirits brightened. But he did nothing; he suspected she was in deep thought, and his touch could cause her to lose her concentration. So he sank back in the chair and waited patiently for her to begin talking.

"The thing that bothers me most about you guys," she said quietly, still keeping her eyes lowered, "is how you always confide in her."

"But--" Harry immediately paused and bit back his urge to refute the statement. He wanted to hear her reasoning before he said anything more.

Cho remained quiet for a moment, perhaps waiting to see if he would try to say more. "I sometimes feel left out of your life because you always run to her before you console with me first."

She closed her eyes. When she opened them again, they were glistening. Harry moved back in the chair when he witnessed the sight. He had never seen her in that state, as she was always so composed.

"It really hurt me," she said, "when you didn't tell me about the Cannons asking you to be on the team. I know you were in Hogwarts and I was here, but you could have owled me." Her right hand lowered as she began to play with the lace trimming on her gown. "I could have helped you make the decision about joining the team. And let me remind you that I did play Quidditch."

Cho brought her hand to her face and wiped away the tear that was now drizzling down her cheek. "But instead," she continued, "you run to Hermione and tell her the news, despite her not being knowledgeable about nor even liking the sport."

Her voice was now breaking, as she began to take several pauses after every word. But she cleared her throat and looked Harry straight in the face. "I was really hurt when you did that."

Harry lowered his gaze, not wanting to look into those brown eyes anymore. It was true that she should have been the first one to hear about his Quidditch deal, considering they were engaged at the time. But he had been taken aback when he began to receive letters from every team in the league. He remembered how an owl from the Bats, dressed in the team's colors, flew into the Great Hall and delivered a singing message to him.

Of course everyone in his house put in their two cents on which organization he should play for, from discreetly slipping him little notes in class, to shouting out a team name to him while he walked down the hall.

He had initially not wanted to join any team, thinking it would be too dangerous, as the professions played a rougher and nastier game than even the Slytherins. He'd been worried about his well-being, and since he and Cho had decided they would start a family during their second year of marriage, he wanted to be in good health when his children arrived. At the time, he had considered getting a cushy job at the Ministry of Magic or working at Cho's father's financial management business. But deep in his heart, he knew he wanted to play Quidditch.

He could have easily talked to Cho about the matter, since his decision would also affect her, but he thought she was too preoccupied with the wedding plans. So he turned to the only person around whose opinion he valued: Hermione. Ron was deemed unable to provide him with the impartial advice he needed, due to his near worship of the Cannons.

After much deliberation, Harry finally settled on the struggling Cannons; his friendship with and the heartfelt letter he received from team captain Oliver Wood had heavily influenced his decision.

"Do you know how it makes me feels," she stated, "every time I open up a magazine and it credits Hermione for getting you to sign with the Cannons?"

Harry remained quiet, as he didn't know how to answer such a question. But he guessed she didn't really want him to respond, as she quickly began to talk once more. "It's not that I wanted the bragging rights or anything, it just would have been nice to be involved in the decision making, considering all that I've given up for you. I quit playing because of you."

"You didn't have to."

Cho's eyes widened and she quickly snatched her hand away from his. "Of course I had to," she nearly shouted. "I wouldn't feel right competing against you in a game."

Her gaze remained on him for a brief instance, before traveling to the corner of the room and resting on a picture. She eyed the portrait of him in his Gryffindor Quidditch gear, flying high above the pitch. The expression on his face was laden with determination as his eyes were narrowed, obviously searching for the snitch and telling himself to reach it before the other team's seeker - which he always did.

Harry looked at the photo too, thinking how that was the day Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup, during his sixth year.

"I've always loved that picture of you," she said.

He leaned forward and touched her leg. "Well you're a great photographer." His hand began to move along her leg in a slow circular motion. He soon stopped with his caressing when he noticed the look on her face. She was still eyeing his photograph, but unlike the previous time, when she had looked upon his image with pride, the expression in her eyes was now slightly glum. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"That could have been me, you know." She got up from her chair and approached the portrait. "Ravenclaw could have won the Quidditch Cup that year, if I had been on the team." She touched her hand to the glass and watched as the portrait of Harry slowly turned to her, the intense look on his face fading as his lips curved into a smile . But the smile soon disappeared when something golden whizzed by in the background, causing him to go chasing after it. The picture was now empty, showing only a view of the bright blue sky and the billows of clouds that floated about like balls of cotton.

But Harry came back into the picture, proudly holding out the snitch in his hands for his betrothed to see. Cho's eyes flittered to that golden and shiny ball, watching as its wings thundered against Harry's fingers in a hopeless attempt to get away. Her eyes then traveled up to Harry's smiling face. Then with a swift motion, Cho turned the picture over onto the table.

Harry looked down when he caught a glimpse of her face. It was true she had been a great seeker; she was actually the only one in school who had given him the least bit of a challenge. She had been a formidable force during the game for the Cup in his fifth year, matching his every movement and speed. She would have been a perfect seeker for the Bats, he mused, thinking how the team had wasted that position on Draco Malfoy; who he thought was only chosen because of his looks and family name, rather than his talent, or lack there of.

When Harry had drifted out of his thoughts, he saw that Cho was seated once more, this time holding a large golden box in her hands. He watched as she reached behind her to the vanity, her fingers roaming over the makeup containers and other small bottles until they curled around a small key. She then unlocked the box and pulled back the lid, taking out a large bundle of letters that were held together by a neatly tied pink ribbon. "These are all the love letters you ever wrote me while we were in school."

Harry reached out and took the letters from her. On top of the pile lay the first letter he ever wrote her, dated October 1, 1996. It was rather short, consisting of only five inches of parchment. He made a face as he scanned what was his first attempt at a poem. His fingers glided through the stack, until he reached the pile of letters he had written during his last year of school. Unlike the correspondences on the top, these letters were significantly longer and more well thought out, as he had become more at ease and proficient with his writing skills by then.

When he looked up again, Cho was holding an envelope in her hands; he could see the red seal from where he sat.

"This arrived to me during my last year," she said. "It came as a surprise, considering I had stopped playing by then. But I guess they still had faith I would be in good form." Her finger moved along the seal, which glimmered from the flickering overheard light of the chandelier. "I never told anyone about it, not even you." She leaned forward and gently placed the envelope on top of the large pile of letters.

Harry eyed the envelope. He was about to reach inside and read the letter, but stopped when his gaze fell upon the seal, which told him all he needed to know. His eyes washed over it, growing large with surprise, before he glanced up at her again. "Why didn't you tell me about this earlier?"

She looked down at her hands. "What was the point? I was going to turn down their offer anyway. Plus I didn't want you to feel bad."

Before Harry could say another word, she reached for the pile of letters on his lap and put them back in her box, locking the lid. She got up from her seat and put the box in the hidden compartment behind her many robes.

Harry grabbed her hand when she attempted to walk past him on her way to her vanity. "Cho, we could have worked it out. You would have done a great job being a seeker for the Bats."

He dropped his head, remembering how dedicated she had been to the game; even though she was no longer on the team, she never failed to practice with her former Ravenclaw teammates every afternoon. He was also impressed by her physical condition; even joining her on one of her morning runs around the castle grounds.

She moved her arm out of his reach. "Well it doesn't matter now, does it? Anyway they gave the job to Malfoy."

"You didn't have to sacrifice your career for me."

"Well I did," she snapped. "And you repay me by telling me you slept with Hermione."

The hard look she bestowed upon him made him move back in his seat. He had seen that look before, but only on very rare occasions when her anger was fully aroused.

"I didn't say all of that to anger you," he said, his hand trying to find its way to her once more. "I just wanted to come clean to you because you came clean to me."

"There's a big difference between a kiss and having sex with someone."

Harry stiffened in his seat. The remorse he had been feeling only seconds before vanished as he was now possessed with something else. He had assumed he was doing the right thing by telling her everything about his past. "It had taken a lot for me to say that to you. I thought you'd at least appreciate that."

Cho leaned against the counter and glared at him, a cynical smirk spreading on her lips, as her eyes moved up and down on his body. "Appreciate that you lied to me all these years?"

Harry felt his heart racing, as his hands tightened around the arms of the chair, his fingernails digging into the fabric. "You did the same thing. You lied to me about Dean."

"I never lied to you about anything. I never said anything about Dean because he wasn't an important person in my life. He and I didn't do anything that was worth mentioning."

Harry could hear her breathing. He rested his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes for a moment. He now knew he was in for a long battle. Although appearing meek and unassuming to everyone else, Harry knew that deep down Cho was extremely feisty and would not back down.

"You," she said pointing a finger at him, "are the one that lied. I asked you if you ever slept with anyone and you kept quiet. To me, having sex with someone is a big deal and is worthy of mentioning to your girlfriend. I was honest with you from the beginning. I told you about my experience with Ced--" She paused and brought her gaze to the corner of the room.

He then saw how her eyes were now glistening once more. She held her hand up to her face for several minutes before looking at him again. "If I had slept with Dean," she said, her voice shaky and unstable, "I would have told you."

"I'm sorry. I wanted to say something, but I just couldn't. I guess I just tried to forget it ever happened. But I certainly didn't mean to upset you right before our wedding." He continued to look into her face. But the intense glare in her eyes did not soften. "Listen, I don't want to fight with you right now. I just want us to have a good day."

"I don't want to fight either," she replied. Her breathing had slowed down significantly, but her face still held the tell tale signs of being upset. "But I think there's more that needs to be discussed."

"Like what?"

"You mentioned that you and Hermione talked about this last night, right?"

"Yes."

"When did you guys talk about it?" Harry brought his brows together. She saw the confusion that was now on his face and said, "When during the stag party did you guys talk about your one night stand?"

Harry flinched a bit as he heard his encounter with Hermione referred to in that way. Something about the way she said it cheapened the experience. "I guess you could say we discussed it towards the end of the party. Right before everyone left for the Witch...the club."

"And who brought up the subject?"

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but then stopped. He gave Cho a hard look. "Why are you asking me these ques--"

"Who brought up the subject?" she asked again.

"Hermione did."

Cho had now crossed her arms tightly against her chest. "Why did she bring it up?"

"Well, Ron said something about her having..." He hesitated for a moment. "Ron mentioned something about her still having feelings for me," he said in a small voice. He could now detect a smile forming on her lips.

Harry didn't like the way she was interrogating him. But he suspected she didn't completely trust him now that she knew he had kept something of that nature from her for so long. So, he decided to tell her everything that took place at the party. "Hermione and I talked about the incident while the other guys were playing pool."

"Is that when she kissed you?" she asked nonchalantly, with almost a smirk on her lips.

Harry held his breath for a second. "What?"

"Is that when she placed her lips on you?"

Harry's mind began to race as he tried to figure out how Cho could have known about their kiss. He then assumed Dean must have been the one who told her about the embrace. But before he could start cursing the young man, who was now at his house enjoying the comforts of his guest bedroom, he remembered that he and Hermione were on a street corner during their kiss, far away from Dean and all of the other party guests.

"You had lipstick on you," she said, sensing what he must have been thinking. "I noticed it when I tried to kiss you. Of course I thought the lipstick was from an overly zealous waitress who wanted to congratulate you. But after I found out Hermione was at the party, I knew it must have been from her."

A heavy silence grew between them, as Harry thought of how stupid he had been for not being more careful that night. But all he could do at that moment, as the shame washed over his body, was look down and try to ignore the hard glare she was giving him.

"Harry," she said, her voice soft, "is their something else you'd like to confess to me?"

Harry shook his head. "You already know everything. There's nothing else."

She sat in her chair. Being so close to her made Harry wish she would go back to her vanity. "I'm going to sit right here," she said, "until you tell me what you've been hiding."

"What? I'm not hiding anything else. You already know that Hermione and I slept together and she kissed me last night. There's nothing else, I swear."

She took a deep breath. "You think I'm really stupid don't you?"

"I don't think that of you. You're a very intelligent--"

"Will you stop?" she shouted. "I already know the truth, so don't sit there and patronize me with stupid compliments." She remained silent for a long time, probably giving him some time to make a guess as to what could be running through her mind. "Do you have feelings for her?"

Harry did not answer.

"Harry, do you love her?"

Right then and there, Harry was taken back to his fifth year in school. A week after their sexual encounter, Hermione had crept into his dorm and asked him that same question. He wanted to respond and say what was in his heart, but he had said nothing, causing her to cry and walk out of the room. But since then he struggled with that question, which he had pondered during his entire relationship with Cho, causing him to stay awake late at night.

He glanced up at Cho's face, watching the expression in her eyes switch from anger to sadness. "I can't believ--" She stopped talking and turned her head towards the door.

"Cho," came her maid of honor's chirpy voice from the other side of the door, "the photographer's here. Everyone's waiting for you."

"Not now. Harry and I are busy."

"But we're running late."

"Didn't you hear what I said? We're busy right now." She stared at Harry once more, her eyes filled with tears. "I knew it. I just knew it." She got up from the chair and began to pace around the room. "I wondered if I was making the right decision when I told her not to come. But I now know I did the right thing."

"What?" asked Harry, who had been watching her walk back and forth in front of him, observing as she half tripped on the long material of the gown, almost ripping the delicate fabric with the heel of her shoe. "You told her not to come to the wedding?"

"I didn't say that," Cho snapped back. "I just told her I didn't think it was right if she stood next to you. She's the one who decided not to attend the wedding."

"When did this take place?"

Cho continued to walk to the other end of the room. "This morning. She was at Highlands. We were talking and I told her she shouldn't be in the wedding party. I told her..." She paused and took a deep breath. "I told her you and I decided her dress wouldn't fit with the rest of the bridal party."

Harry suddenly remembered his earlier discussion with Hermione. Everything she had said earlier was suddenly beginning to make sense to him. She had actually been talking about her encounter with Cho all along, he thought. He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he had known what was bothering her.

He then turned his gaze towards his future bride. "Why would you do something like that?" His hands began to curl into a fist and he found himself getting to his feet. "Why the hell would you do something like that?" he asked again, his voice a lot louder and forceful than before; forceful enough to make her stop walking and stare at him. "Do you realize the amount of trouble I went through to get her to...how could you do that?"

She gave him an equally angry and defiant glare. "That's the only thing I could do. I couldn't risk her being up there with you while the minister asked if you wanted to marry me or not."

Harry drew his brows together. "Why not? You think I'd say 'no' if she was standing right next to me?"

"Yes."

They were now facing one another, each one with a determined expression in their eyes. But Harry was the first to look away. "Why would you think that?"

"Because you love her," she screamed. Her right hand swept along the vanity, knocking bottles and makeup to the floor. Her chest was now heaving in and out as she stared back at him. Harry stepped back when a bottle of face powder rolled towards him, spilling out its contents onto the carpet. "Do you think I was going to stand there," she said, "and risk you changing your mind at the last minute and humiliating me in front of everyone?"

He reached out his hand to her, and opened his mouth in an attempt to say he could and would never do that to her, but she cut him off. "I know how you feel about her," she went on. "I've known for nearly two years now." A tear swelled from her eyes and trickled down her cheek, her mascara running down with it. "I see you guys when you're together, the little looks you give one another. I always knew Hermione had feelings for you. I could see that from the very beginning. But it wasn't until recently that I realized you..." She lowered her head as more tears flowed from her eyes. "You love her too."

Harry brought his hand to her hips. "Cho--"

"Shut up," she yelled and slapped his fingers away. "I've seen the evidence for myself. I've always noticed the way you acted around her. I tried to ignore it until we went out to dinner with her and Krum. Usually in circumstances like that, the women would talk to each other and the men would wound up talking about sports. But you spent the whole night whispering to Hermione, while I had to try to maintain a conversation with Krum."

She took a step backwards, moving away from his outstretched hand. "And I saw the way you were staring at her, touching her face every now and then. But what tipped me off was when you didn't tell me about her attending the party and you going to her house in the middle of the nigh--" She stepped on her bottle of lotion and lost her balance, falling backwards.

Harry rushed to her side. But he didn't reach her in time and she hit her head against the wall with a thud. "Are you okay?" he asked, kneeling down and wrapping his arms around her waist, as he tried to help her up.

"Leave me alone!" She pushed him away and remained on the floor, rubbing her head with her hand, the fabric of her gown billowing up around her body and surrounding her like a fluffy cloud.

"Cho?" came a loud voice from the other side of the door. "Are you okay honey?"

Just then the door creaked open and Cho's mother poked her head into the room. "Harry," she said, "what are you doing here? What's going on in--" Her hand lifted to her mouth, when she caught sight of her daughter lying on the floor, with traces of blood on the palm of her right hand. "What happened?" Before anyone could answer, Mrs. Chang pushed the door open and walked into the room. Her hand went immediately to her daughter's face, her fingers lightly touching her cheeks and wiping away the tears. "Honey, what's going on? Emma said she heard some shouting in here."

Cho lowered her head. Her long hair, which was now a disheveled mass, fell to her face. Mrs. Chang turned around to Harry. "What happened?" she asked him, her dark eyes pleading with him for some answers, seeing as that her daughter was not willing to give her an explanation. "Did you push her?"

Harry continued to stare down at her, and then at Cho, who was now whimpering. He swiveled his head to the door, where the bridesmaids were now gathered; they were all trying to get a look into the room and at the injured bride to be.

"He pushed Cho?" one of the bridesmaids whispered to another.

"Who pushed Cho?" came the screechy voice from behind the crowd of women. Olga shoved the bridesmaids aside and made her way into the room. She gasped, her large eyes getting bigger as they rested on Cho. Then her gaze traveled to the carpet, eyeing the spilt containers of makeup and broken glass. She then stared at Harry. But unlike Mrs. Chang, she did not ask him any questions about what had happened. She lifted her hand in the air, her palm facing him.

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but felt an incredible force strike him in the chest, pushing him backwards. Fortunately for him, he fell back into the deep cushions of the chair he'd been sitting on earlier. "I didn't do anything to her," he said. "I love her too much."

"Olga stop," said Cho, before the house-elf had a chance to knock Harry once more with her magic.

Olga did not lower her hand, keeping it directed at Harry, who was now struggling to breathe while the pressure on his chest intensified, as it tried to force him to the other end of the room. But he was able to hold onto the chair for support.

Cho wearily got up from the floor, and approached the house-elf. She grabbed Olga's arm, forcing it down. "He didn't do anything to me," she said. "I just tripped on one of these bottles and hit my head against the wall."

"What were you guys talking about?" asked the young woman who had flirted with Harry earlier. Her eyes were glued to him, although her question was directed at Cho.

Cho narrowed her eyes and glared at Eloise. "I don't think that's any of your business."

The maid of honor placed her hands on Eloise's shoulders and pulled her out of the room. She then began to round up the other women, leading them back into the sitting room.

Mrs. Chang approached her daughter, lifting her long violet gown a little off the floor, so the spilled face powder wouldn't soil the satin fabric. She placed a dainty and bejeweled hand on Cho's shoulder. "Honey," she said, in her sweetest voice, "are you sure nothing's wrong?"

Cho made no response, just keeping her eyes centered on her bridesmaids as they walked away, whispering to one another and throwing her glances over their shoulder. She then lowered her head and brought her hand to her forehead. "God knows what they could be saying about me."

"They're fine," Mrs. Chang shouted to the other women, "just a lover's quarrel. They'll kiss and make up shortly." She then leaned close to her daughter's ear and whispered, "Everything is fine between you guys, isn't it?" Her voice had suddenly lost the confidence and cheeriness that was there a moment earlier.

Cho remained quiet.

"Darling," Mrs. Chang said again, her tone lingering with some fright, "this is no time to be picking a fight with your future husband." She turned around and flashed Harry a nervous smile, before turning to Cho once more. "Whatever you could have done to start this argument, please fix it. And fast."

Her hands reached for her daughter's hair, trying her best to straighten the strands with her fingers. After a few unsuccessful minutes of fumbling with the dark locks, Mrs. Chang pulled away. "I don't have time for this right now." She looked her daughter up and down, eyeing the dress that now had stains on it and a large rip along the side. "You can get your pictures taken after the ceremony." Just before she left the room, she glanced up at Harry. "I would get home if I were you. You need to get ready. And Olga, please fix her up, she's a mess."

"Don't cry dear," murmured Olga, as she wrapped her tiny arms around Cho's waist. She then got up on her tips of her toes, her hand stretched out to Cho's face, her thin fingers wiping the young woman's cheeks. "I'll make you all pretty again." Her tiny hand curled around to the back of Cho's head, her fingers feeling their way around the spot that had banged against the wall. Cho suddenly moved back and winced in pain. "It's okay," said Olga. "The pain will soon be gone."

After she had finished healing whatever wound was on the back of Cho's head, Olga then pointed her fingers at Cho's face. Slowly, the young woman's face was once again perfectly made up, her hair forming itself into a bun once more. "I don't know why you even bothered with putting those cosmetics on manually," she muttered. "This is much faster."

Olga then glided her hand along Cho's dress, restoring the garment to the splendor that had been there before. She took a step back to inspect her work. "Great. You look beautiful. All I have to do now is get the veil and you'll be done."

Cho pushed her away before she could conjure the veil from the closet. "Not now," she said, with a forlorn look on her face. "Harry and I still need some time to ourselves."

The house-elf directed her gaze towards Harry, shooting him a warning look. "I don't know what was going on in here--"

"I didn't do anything to her," he began. "I would never lay a hand on--"

"Silence," Olga shouted, lifting her hand to the air once more.

Harry, now fully aware of the house-elf's powers and still suffering from the throbbing that lingered in his chest, immediately sat back on the chair and quieted.

"I believe you didn't do hit her," Olga said. "But I surely know that you upset her in some way. So, take this as a warning, Harry Potter, what you felt earlier is just a very small fraction of what I am capable of. I can unleash--"

Cho brought her hand over her house-elf's mouth. "Can you just give us a minute? Please."

Reluctantly, Olga made her way out of the room.

Cho walked over to where Harry was seated, standing over him. He opened his mouth to say something, when she lifted her hand and slapped him across the face. The blow was a hard one, as he could feel the sting develop on his cheek almost immediately.

After the slap, she continued to stand over him, her eyes narrowed, her breathing rapid. She then walked to the corner of the room, where she stood against the wall. She did not cry or yell at him, but stared down at the floor. He watched her the whole time she was there, but she would not return her gaze, as her head remained lowered, her eyes closed. Perhaps she was thinking of what to do next to him, or which heavy object she would throw at his head. Whatever it was, he knew he deserved it.

After what seemed like an eternity of tense filled silence, she approached him again. Harry braced himself for another attack; he would not attempt to move out of the way if she did decide to hit him again, as he wanted to allow her to vent out her anger - even if she ended up hurting him.

She stood just a foot away. Her eyes were closed, as she took deep breaths. When she glanced at him again, Harry moved back in his chair, as the expression in those once lively almond shaped eyes were haunting. She finally sat in her chair, facing him. He reached out his hand to her and tried to touch her arm, but she stopped him.

"Do you love her?" she asked. Her voice was now soft, almost as if she already knew the answer.

Unlike before when he had to carefully consider his answer and the impact it would have on his life and on his fiancée's emotions, he now answered almost immediately. "Yes," Harry said, his voice full of conviction. As he heard that word escape his mouth, he suddenly felt free. Even the pain in his chest from Olga's magic ceased, as he was now able to breathe freely. "I love her."

She didn't say anything, just staring at him, her face becoming more and more gloomy by the second. Her lower lip was now quivering and she was blinking rapidly, trying to fight off the wave of emotions that was taking over her body. But her fight was useless, as the tears soon began to trickle down her cheeks, ruining the brilliant job Olga had done with her makeup. Her hands lifted to her face and she slumped down in her seat.

Harry got out of his chair and knelt in front of her. He timidly stretched out his arms to her, but unlike last time when she had met his touch with scorn and disgust, she fell into his embrace, welcoming his warm caresses and allowing him to pull her into his body. She rested her head on his shoulder as she cried. Harry closed his eyes, as he was soon affected by the sounds that now echoed in his ears, crashing against his eardrums.

He tightened his arms around her, as he too was now overcome by the same emotions. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "I didn't mean to do this to you." As the words came out of his mouth, he felt something warm run down his face, trickling into the corner of his mouth, where he was able to taste the saltiness.

Resting his face in the sloping curve of her neck, he was able to detect the gentle fragrance of her perfume. He was suddenly reminded of the many nights he had enjoyed making love to her as that same scent flooded his nostrils. Those had been some happy times for him, as he lay under that canopy, the light of the moon casting a silvery glow over the bed and on their naked bodies.

Harry thought back to the times he had been on top of her during their numerous sexual encounters, his mouth slightly opened as he moaned, his eyes squeezed shut as he awaited the inevitable shred of ecstasy, the little death that would cascade throughout his entire body. Of course he concentrated on Cho's body, but he knew the image that always triggered his orgasm was of another dark haired young woman as she lay on the floor of the Astronomy Tower, her eyes large and glistening with desire, her skin made radiant by the glow of the many stars twinkling over her naked body.

His hand moved along her back, as he tried to comfort her and himself with gentle words. But in the end, he soon grew quiet, as he found it harder to talk; he was now in the same state as she. They remained in that position long after their emotions had subsided, their arms around each other, their bodies rocking back in forth. Cho was the first to pull away. She merely stared into his eyes, not saying anything. And then her hand lifted to her face and wiped her tears.

"Why did you ask me to marry you?" she asked, her voice scratchy and barely audible.

Harry sat back on the floor, bringing his hand to his head, as he contemplated the question, not expecting she would ask him something of that nature. "Because...I love you." He winced and looked away, knowing his words must have sounded unconvincing, especially after he had professed to loving Hermione. He glanced up at her face, observing the look in her eyes. "I really do love you. I wouldn't have asked you to marry me if I didn't want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Do you think we could possibly do that after what's just happened?"

Harry pulled back. "What are you saying?"

Cho lifted her hand to her head, undoing the tight bun. "You just admitted to being in love with Hermione. Do you think we can now go on like nothing happened?" She placed her elbows on her thighs, lowering her face into her hands. "This is my worst nightmare come true."

They were quiet once more, as either one waited for the other to say the words they were both thinking at that moment, but did not want to hear. Her head remained lowered, as she sneaked glances at him every so often.

But a loud banging on the door soon broke their silence. "Cho," said Mrs. Chang, "the guests are already starting to arrive." She paused for a moment, as she waited for an answer from her daughter. "Darling, did you hear me?"

"What do you want to do?" Harry asked.

"I really don't kno--" She rapidly turned her head to the door. "Mother, please go away!" She continued to watch the door, waiting until she heard the woman on the other side begin to walk away, before talking once more. "I know I'll feel like a liar if went out there like nothing happened. I can't stand in front of those people and declare my undying love for you after this." She brought her hand to her head, rubbing her temples in a circular motion. "Oh my God, my head hurts."

"Let me help you," said Harry as he got up from his seated position and stood behind her. He reached for her head and began to massage her temples, his fingers gingerly grazing her skin. She relaxed into his touch and he could soon hear her signing softly to herself as his fingers worked their way around her head, releasing her from the throbbing that was once there.

"I didn't mean to do it," she muttered, her eyes half closed.

He stopped rubbing her head for just that moment. "Do what?"

"Tell Hermione not to come. When we were in that restaurant, sitting across from each other, I couldn't stop thinking about how the two of you felt about one another. I just couldn't risk it Harry. I wanted you all to myself, and couldn't risk--" She brought her hands to her face.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered, as his fingers moved to her neck, trying to assuage her emotions. "I never meant for it to be like this. I never wanted to hurt you."

"But why didn't you tell me earlier? You should have said something in the beginning, before we started our relationship." Her voice broke for a moment, getting harder and harder to understand. But she soon regained the composure for which she was well known. "All this time, I've been walking around feeling insecure because I felt I had to compete with her. That's why I've always been...overly protective of you."

She let out a bitter laugh, and so did Harry. He thought back to all the times she had kept him under a watchful eye, always wanting to know where and with whom he would be going out. At first, he felt flattered that someone would love him so much as to constantly worry about his welfare, but of late the attention was beginning to ignite his nerves, causing some of their most fiery arguments.

He bitterly recalled an explosive episode at his house a few months earlier, just several days after he had graduated from Hogwarts. Ron, his ever present partner in crime and a catalyst for nearly all of their arguments, had come over to take him out for a few drinks at the pubs in Hogsmeade to commemorate that happy occasion. Of course Cho didn't like the idea of him spending the whole night with the lads and insisted he stay home. What happened next was a heated confrontation between the engaged couple, as he said a few things to her that he had been holding back for all that time, commenting on what a bossy jail warden she was. Having been confronted by him - in front of a snickering Ron, no less - Cho fled to the bedroom. In the end, Harry never went out with the lads and had to spend the night on the couch.

"I've always wanted you with me," she continued, "because I feared losing you. I thought you'd go and seek out Hermione. I didn't like myself when I acted that way because I know that's not the way I really am."

Harry tilted her head backwards and placed a few light kisses on her forehead. "I'm sorry I made you act that way," he murmured against her skin. He was about to say more, when he heard talking coming from the other side of the door. From the sounds of it, he expected the entire bridal party and Chang clan were waiting outside, probably wondering what was happening and whether they should break down the door.

Although his own heart was beating fast, as he now didn't know what to do, the look on Cho's face remained calm and at ease. She slowly got up from the chair and approached the vanity, grabbing a few tissues to wipe away the wet tears that still remained on her face. She then turned around and faced him. "Do you want to do it or shall I?" she asked.

"Do what?"

"Tell them the wedding's off."

Harry's eyes grew wide, as he never imagined he would hear those words escape her mouth. And that her expression was so calm surprised him even more. He approached her and took her hands. "Are you sure about this--"

"Why would you even ask me that? I love you, but I can't marry a man who's heart is not entirely with me." She began to fan her face with her hands, as if trying to keep her eyes from watering once more. "As much as I would have enjoyed being a Quidditch wife, I don't think I can go through with this." She placed her hand against his chest, right over his heart, which was beating erratically. "Us getting married will not make this issue go away. It'll just make it worse. And I wouldn't want to bring up children in that kind of environment."

Harry pulled her hand away from his chest and brought it to his lips. He wanted to fall to his knees at that moment, and grab her around the waist, thanking her for what she had done. Deep down, he loved her. He really did, he told himself. And he had wanted to marry her and start a family; the family he never had, the family that would replace all the horrible thoughts of the Dursleys from his mind. But then again, he had clung to her because he was running away from something. The idea of marrying her had seemed so appealing because then - he hoped - he would be free from Hermione and the power that drew him to her, causing him to venture to her home during the middle of the night.

Surely he had thought of calling off the wedding, but he had never uttered these words to anyone. Laying awake at night, while her arms wrapped around his waist, he would contemplate telling her he wasn't ready for marriage. But looking down at her angelic face as she swept, he couldn't bring himself to hurt her, to destroy all her hopes and dreams of a happy future with him.

"Are you mad at me?" he finally asked.

"I'm angry at you, at Hermione and especially with myself." She pulled her hand away from his lips and brought them to her side. "But I guess in the end, it had to happen. I don't want us to be in a loveless marriage, where we don't trust one another."

She grabbed him by the waist and pulled him into her body. "I'm really not that mad," she continued. "I'm just sad it had to end like this. I really thought we'd be happy together. But I want you to be happy. I want you to play Quidditch, and find love in your life again...." Harry could see that her face was beginning to tense, and she glanced away from him just then. "Maybe you'll find love with her," she said in a bitter voice, barely audible.

"And what will you do with yourself?"

Cho dropped her head and looked down at the gown, the same one that had brought her so much excitement as she walked about the boutique, showing it off to all her bridesmaids. "Who knows?"

Harry looked at her with disbelief for a moment. She was normally so optimistic of her future. He then went to the small table, where his picture lay upside down. He lifted the picture of himself and brought it to her. "I want this for you," he said. "I want you to pursue your dreams." His hand traveled to her hair, pushing it behind her ear. "I always thought you were an excellent athlete. And now that we're not getting....well, I want you to try out for the Bats."

Her expression remained sad, looking as though his words had not been convincing enough. "What if we have to face off against one another?" she asked.

"That won't matter to me. The only thing that will bring me a lot of joy would be to see you force Draco off the team. I know if you tried out, they'd see how wonderful you are and give you the position."

She took the picture from his hands and looked down at it. "I'll think about it," she said in a weak voice.

They were quiet then, as Harry tried to digest what had just happened during the course of that time. He had never imagined things would end up like this, but it was now a blessing. However, his happiness was only overshadowed by how guilty he felt about hurting her, causing her so much pain for all those years. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close. He didn't say anything, only enjoying the feel of her body for what he assumed would be the last time.

"I love you," he finally said. "I always will. You know that, don't you?" He watched as she nodded her head. And with that, he pulled away.

She remained where she was, leaning against the vanity, with her head lowered. "By the way," she called out, "could you tell everyone I want to be left alone? I don't think I can face everyone's questions just right now."

"Sure," he replied. He then made his way to the door.