Word: 25. Sorting Hat

***
The short little Chinese girl practically had to be lifted onto the stool. Her face crimson with embarassment, Cho Chang's feet dangled so far off the ground that to get down was to jump. Puberty being what it is, she was shortest girl, about par with some of the boys. Unlike them, she couldn't hope to grow much taller, like they would.

The last thing she saw before the hat was lowered over her eyes was a boy, wearing a yellow tie at a table on the far left of the Great Hall. He had kind, smiling grey eyes.

I hope, I hope...

"Ravenclaw!"

Darn!

Word: 75. Yodel

***


There was something about Asian music that the Western songs lacked (possible decent lyrics, and no chorus of 'yeah baby do it like that, do it like that, baby').

Quietly, Cho slipped a tape in, hugging her knees to her. The soft strains of tahrir, a yodelling technique of the Azeri classical music, began. Half chant, half moan, half song, half prayer.

She couldn't understand the lyrics, but the singer's voice sounded like the howl of an animal in pain, the sobs of a woman. The song was centuries old, speaking of love. Of loss.

And of finding again.

Word: 15. Room

***

Motes of dust are highlighted by the sunlight, streaming in from the loft windows.

There’s a futon bed in a corner. Posters of Quidditch stars adorn the walls. A wind chime tinkles softly.

Robes are packed away, but a blue and silver tie lies on the table. A baggy, yellow-striped-black jumper is spread over the bed - perhaps a momento of a boyfriend?

Whoever the boy is, there are no pictures of him around at all.

Then you look under Cho’s bed, and find boxes of letters and pictures. Also, practically every wrapper off every sweet he ever gave her.

Word: 28. Timeturner

***

The time turner was handed over. Cho looked up into the dark hood. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Gah, it's your choice," said the figure. "Always is."

"Huh," said Cho. "Can’t you make this easier?"

"Not supposed to," muttered the figure. "Just make up your mind. Jeez."

She could bring Cedric back. Stop him from going to the third task. Warn him. Break his legs. Something. She could change things. Everything.

Cho opened her eyes; mutely handing the timeturner over.

"Alright, s'your choice, Chang." Was that some respect? The figure melted away --

-- Cho woke up.

Word: 50. Boggart

***
The examiner flourished a wobbling cupboard. He didn't need to tell them what was inside. They knew. Cho stepped forward when her name was called, wand at the ready.

The boggart slammed out, a silvery wisp transfiguring itself into Cho Chang. Cho faced herself, staring deep into eyes that were even darker with pain, a haggard face; clutching an armful of Cedric momentos. There was a forever that lasted a few seconds in reality.

"Riddikulus!" The Cho changed, renacting the events at Puddifoots.

There was another crack as the table, chairs, cherubs, pink hearts and Harry disappeared. Cho had laughed.