Maybe it was her particular Ravenclaw observational skills or just her impeccably good hearing, but she often heard what they said about her. She had nice full lips, it was true, and when she pouted, you could just melt. And that tan… courtesy of her Chinese heritage; and soft touchable skin. Deep brown eyes that looked straight into you and found something so deep it made you twitch and thrust violently and yes… She was Cho Chang, so incredibly fuckable, yet not, because she would have you on your knees before she would even let you touch her.
She sat with her friends at the Ravenclaw table during breakfast one day, and laughed with them, smiled sweetly and pushed her long soft hair behind her shoulders. All the while she was looking; observing.
The sweet scents of spring wafted into the Great Hall that day, and she smiled when she looked over at Harry Potter and he blushed. Oh, how it gave her that good little kick whenever a boy blushed. It was wonderful, she thought, like the fix you got from a cup of hot, steamy coffee first thing on a cold morning. It was an even bigger wave when she made the big boys blush. Terrence Higgs, over her shoulder, and Cedric Diggory in front and a little to her left. Now to smile at Harry Potter one more time.
He abashedly looked away. How delightful! How endearing! How… Well. Well, well, well.
Ginny Weasley was glaring at her. If the Death Curse had a Look, that is what it would look like.
Well was that not… interesting.
Cho believed it to be that the little Weasley was possessive of the famous black-haired boy at first. But when Cho pretended to look away, she noticed Weasley look over at Hermione Granger and Cho accidentally dropped her fork.
Cho Chang went to her classes in her usual flirtatious fashion. She would smile sweetly; touch her shoulders, hands, hair. Purse her lips, tilt forward, push her chest out and laugh with a laugh like song. And all the while she would watch with absolute inner glee as each and every boy would blush and stutter, say completely incoherent things, then abashedly look away when they started talking - but otherwise stare at her All Day Long.
It was like an addiction, a drug, and she knew it. But she could not get enough. The way they steamed in her gaze, and wobbled around like jelly when she got near. It was everything delicious and tasty and sugary. Nobody, not even her friends suspected.
Except for one.
Cho did not really like boys; she just liked to step all over them. She also noticed them without really noticing their beauty, and she did not quite understand why girls dribbled so much and became mindless zombies when they would walk by. She noticed, even at the age of fifteen, the growing popularity and friction between the two arch-rivals Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, but even their rivalry did not compare to Cho Chang and Hermione Granger.
Cho sat in Transfiguration that day, and smirked to herself.
Hermione ‘I Know Everything’ Granger. The bitch should have been Sorted into Ravenclaw.
The girl was in the year below Cho but she still made Cho’s blood boil whenever the Griffindor gave her one of those, ‘I know you’re a cock tease’ looks. Cho could only glare back, and it was terribly frustrating.
When her test was given back that lesson, she found one more reason to spite the little teacher’s whore. Full marks. Nice. She thought, Tonight I will get my revenge, and smiled to herself. There was a sudden collective gasp as half the boys in the room were temporarily stunned by her smile.
The petite little Ravenclaw only wished that that night would come sooner. It would not, so she tried to pass the time by simultaneously studying for her OWLs and flirting with every boy in the Common Room. Then she just got more frustrated when Terry Boot, a boy in the year below her, would not respond to her advances.
Cho silently crept out of the Great Hall that night after dinner and trudged grumpily to the forest edge of the lake, her hood up. She was still pissed off about that Boot boy, and was thoroughly cursing him when she saw Hermione leaning against a tree.
Hermione pushed off and looked down at Cho. “You’re late,” she snapped.
Cho sighed and rolled her eyes. “I had a bad day so I ate.”
“What happened? Someone actually not respond to your advances,” she laughed softly. “No wonder you’re in a bad mood. You’re in a right state, too.”
Cho bristled. “Never mind!” She took out the parchment from under her arm and handed it to the other girl. “Full marks. Beat that!”
Hermione looked at the test. “Nice,” then threw it on the ground.
“Well?” snapped Cho. Only Hermione could get her so angry. “Didn’t you get your Herbology essay back today?”
Hermione took a step forward and lifted her hands to lower Cho’s hood. “Not important,” she murmured and leaned her face down to Cho’s.
Cho grasped Hermione’s hands gently and pulled away. “No,” she whispered, “not until after the Progress Report.”
Hermione leaned back and squinted into Cho’s face. The Griffindor’s eyes were shimmering like the lakes surface in the moonlight, colour of caramel and a hint of honey swirl. So appropriate.
Cho knew Hermione smelled just like that. Her lips were red and sweet, and she knew what they would taste like too. Something like nutmeg and the sour and sweet taste of milk. Cho dropped her hands and moved over to a tree and rested against it. “So, progress?”
Hermione turned to her, chocolate curls bouncing. She looked down at the ground. “Well, I had Terrence Higgs last week,” she glanced up through her eyelashes and grinned. “Victor asked me to the Yule Ball today. I will have had him by tomorrow night. But,” she frowned, seeming serious. “You can’t tell anyone I’m going to the Yule Ball with him.”
Cho nodded. “Anything we say during these meetings stays with us.”
Hermione smiled, sparking up her caramel eyes. “I haven’t been able to get to Ron or Harry. I’ve noticed Harry is very taken by you. Cedric too, but I had him yesterday.”
Cho shrugged, dismissive. “I’ve had him three times already, and he doesn’t count anymore, because he’s talking me to the Yule Ball.”
Hermione scowled angrily and stepped closer. “Three times -?”
“Good work with Higgs,” Cho interrupted. “So that’s another point to you. Try and work on Krum, but he shouldn’t be hard. As for Ron and Harry -“
“Why three times?”
Cho was startled at Hermione’s harsh tone. “Only because I suspected, Love,” she broke out into a sly smile and took Hermione’s hands in hers. “I wanted that extra point, and you know the rules.” Hermione did not look convinced. Cho sighed. “As for your two little boyfriends, they’re harder than I thought. They’re so thick, but we’ll have them soon.”
Hermione pulled her hands away and wrapped her arms around the smaller girl, pulling her into a warm embrace. Cho sighed, wrapped her arms around Hermione’s neck and leaned against her shoulder. “Maybe we should forget about those two,” Hermione said softly, “and move on to our next challenge.”
“Okay,” Cho agreed, just as softly, “but it has to be a real challenge. An older man.”
Hermione pulled away slightly to look into Cho’s face. “Are you sure?” Cho nodded. “Alright, how about Charlie Weasley? I heard he’s staying in the castle.”
Cho made a face, “No, please, no more Weasleys!” Then she suddenly grinned, a new idea forming. “I know! How about Professor Snape?”
Hermione nodded and smiled indulgently, then suddenly took on a serious look. She peered down, her gaze lustful, and pressed her lips to Cho’s
That was when Cho Chang forgot about boys and blushing and control. And it was when she remembered love and caramel and all things truly desirable. She felt like a true Ravenclaw at that moment, observing herself. As if she were a stranger standing back and watching a girl with soft hands lace her fingers into a smaller girl’s long black hair. And she felt the conflict of tongue against tongue and body against body in a quiet struggle between power and submission, yet the two entities were totally equal.
The night drove on with fire in her heart and flutters in her tummy and the pressure of lips taking her to insanity, only to bring her back again. Then she wondered vaguely, while the air was thick and her heart was pounding, if she will ever win.
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