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'Dear Cho...'

Cho was rereading the letter from Fleur for the thirteenth time. She was still in the same spot, nestled in the sunny corner of the owlery with a smile on her face. The owl on her arm was still there, but she had long forgotten.

She could hardly believe that someone other than her parents had actually put it in the effort to write her a letter.

And it was Fleur. Beautiful, badass Fleur Delacour with her grace and her smile...Cho could feel her heart pumping, and it was strangely comforting.

She turned to her bag and took quill and ink, and set some parchment down in front of her, brushing away the straw quickly before dipping her quill in the ink.

Her writing had never been so fast and neat at the same time, and she could her cheeks hurting from the smile on her face, but she didn't care. That kind of pain was the only kind she ever wanted to feel.

She finished far quicker than she expected, and their was parchment all over the place. Gathering it up to place in the envelope, she gave it to Fleur's owl, who seemed more than eager to finally go.

Her hands and robes were covered in ink, the air was maybe a little too warm, and the owlery definitely didn't have the best smell to it.

But Cho felt amazing. And she could certainly get used to that.

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After having sent the letter, Cho left for the common room, practically humming. She needed to get packed since term was letting out soon, but she had kept putting it off. But now she was very much in a cleaning mood.

She had always been an organized person, though she erred on the lazier side of things. She liked things neat and arranged when she could help it.

She could admit to being a tad bitter that life didn't work like that, but she was learning to accept it. Slowly.

Entering the clock tower courtyard, Cho was surprised to see Michael Corner sitting there alone. No Terry Boot, no Anthony Goldstein. Just him.

He had been acting funny around her lately. Lingering smiles, greeting her by name when she passed.

Cho genuinely liked him as a person, and he wasn't too bad-looking at all either. But she really didn't want to be noticing that right now. She didn't need another Harry Potter situation.

Mentally scolding herself, she was going back the way she came when he noticed her.

"Oh, hi Cho! Fancy meeting you here."

She met his stare, and her stomach flipped when he smiled.

"Damn it," Cho muttered under her breath, but she walked over to him anyway, sitting on the fountain next to him. Her smile had grown to emulate his, and she could feel her face getting warm.

"How have you been Michael?"

"Just fine, thanks. Better now that O.W.Ls are over, but who knows what this summer's going to look like." He crossed his arms, and it looked like he scooted closer to her, but she couldn't be sure. "How about you?"

"I've been okay. I'm not sure I'm looking forward to going home though. Bit boring there, usually."

The real reason she didn't want to go was because she knew her bad days at Hogwarts were always better than her bad days at home, but she wasn't going to tell Michel that.

"At least you can cast magic now right? Wasn't your birthday in April?"

Cho smiled coyly. "I'm surprised you know that. Very good, Mr. Corner."

He winked. "I try Miss Chang. I do."

The two continued their conversation for a while. They both were emphatic Quidditch fans(Tornadoes for the win), they ranted about Astronomy(Who even needs to know about the thirty moons of Jupiter), and many other things.

"What? You don't like pumpkin? I can't-What kind of witch are you?"

Cho tipped her head back with a laugh, brushing her hair away from her red cheeks. "I've always been more of a Cauldron Cake person, honeslty."

Michael shook his head. "I guess I can see that, but no pumpkin pasties? Merlin."

She laughed again, and it was then she noticed the the sun was low, and she did need to get back to her dorm.

"Well, I'd better get going. I haven't packed up my trunk yet so I'd better get to it while I still can." She rose to her feet, stretching a little.

He stood up with her, his dimples showing. "I'll walk with you. I'm heading that way anyway."

She nodded and they set off, talking enthusiastically.

It took them a bit to get the riddle, but when Cho finally guessed beehive, the door swung open to reveal an empty common room.

"Thanks for talking with me Michael, I really enjoyed it."

"Of course! The pleasure is all mine Cho." He scratched the back of his neck, and she felt her chest flutter.

"I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yes, I think so." Cho sometimes missed her first meal when she didn't feel like getting up in the morning, but she didn't think that would happen tomorrow.

"Well, good night Cho."

"Good night!"

The air was charged with expectations, but it dissipated once Cho rose on her tiptoed and pressed a kiss to Michael's cheek, leaving them both flushed.

She smiled quickly at him before heading up her stairs, doing a little twirl to her bed, flopping down with a sigh.

Marietta and her other dormmates were probably at the librairy to make up for all the time they'd miss during the summer holiday, so she had it all to herself.

Humming, Cho got up from her bed and began to pack, feeling far too high up from the world to be tired.

Tonight's going to be a good night.

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Fleur rummaged through the cupboards for another pain killer potion, biting back a sigh.

She had known staying up all night to study for the Auror tests had been a bad idea, but she had always had a talent for making bad choices, so she didn't quite know why she was surprised.

She dragged herself back to her dark room, chugging down the potion with ease, and flopped herself down on a pile of clothes, falling asleep almost instantly.

She was awakened by a persistent pecking at her wrist, and Fleur startled forward, only to find her owl perched on her with a letter, twittering noisily.

"Thank you Elkie," She murmured. Finding an owl treat by her pile of clean clothes, she gave it to the bird, taking the letter in exchange.

Perhaps she did need to clean.

Shrugging it off, Fleur tore open the letter, finding a long letter with the most beautiful handwriting she'd ever seen.

It was long, but she was ready.

And after she read it, perhaps she would ask Cho what kind of ink she used, because the contrast between it and the parchment made her a little too happy.

Her fatigue was long gone as she read through the letter, her hands already twitching toward a quill to begin writing a reply.

After all, who couldn't enjoy a letter with handwriting as beautiful as Fleur herself?

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