#cho.

Cho is a Korean born vampire & high ranking member of the Volturi Guard. Born sometime around 800, Cho’s father was a traveling merchant who constantly took the young Cho between Silla, China, & Japan. On his travels, Cho was miserable. His father was an abusive man & the conditions of his ships & caravans were pitiful. The only thing that kept Cho sane was exploring new places. Even if that was not enough to keep him happy, it kept him content. During a bout of financial trouble, Cho & his father were detained by the Tang Dynasty for unpaid debts. Even in the dire conditions, Cho wouldn’t succumb to his woes like those around him, something that caught the eye of an immortal prison guard named Jae-gyu.

Jae-gyu would come to Cho in the night & the two would talk for hours, immediately hitting it off. The night before his father’s scheduled execution, which would ultimately lead to Cho’s as well, Jae-gyu offered to save him from death & Cho accepted without asking for context. Several days later, Cho was a vampire. With Jae-gyu, he traveled beyond the small corner of the earth he had seen. Soon, their paths crossed with Aro’s & the Volturi. Aro extended an invitation for the pair to join them but Jae-gyu was not interested in sharing Cho nor was he interested in relocating to Italy. At Chelsea’s insistence, Cho changed his mind and joined the Volturi, watching without remorse as Felix killed Jae-gyu.

Cho is able to make anyone feel content in his or her circumstances. There is a druglike side effect to his skill, however. A person can become addicted to the feeling he produces, and be unable to feel well without it. Aro saw the potential for his gift & Cho became a linchpin in keeping Athenodora & Sulpicia happy after the death of Didyme.

She’s fifteen when her life breaks open

Here’s what she sees: years of Quidditch practice to become the Ravenclaw Seeker and only female member of the team, countless hours of studying to keep up her grades and pass her O.W.Ls with flying colors, a comfortable level of popularity that she had never expected and Cedric, dead in Harry’s arms.

Sometimes it’s all she can see.

It only takes one month for her peers to become less than understanding of her current state. After all, her life is so good otherwise. If only she can move past her boyfriend’s sudden death at the hands of a man bent on killing anyone who gets in his way, anyone without pure blood, people like her own mother. If only she can keep from crying during meals without him, nights where no one wants to be around her so all she has are her dark thoughts to keep her company. If only she can move on to a new boy, one not as kind or courageous or handsome or loving as the one she lost. If only she can steel her heart and pretend that loss is something a person, a girl of only fifteen, can process with efficiency, then move beyond.

They’re right, it would be so easy. They’re right because they have no idea how she feels. No, he wasn’t destined to be the one great love of her life, but he didn’t even have the chance to be someone else’s. Thinking about his poor father, always so embarrassingly proud of his son…in her mind, he is always there, crying over the body of his dead son.

Every day that she wakes up and gets dressed and eats breakfast and goes to class is the hardest day of her life. And every day it’s her greatest accomplishment.   

So there is another boy. His name is Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One. Maybe she’s a glutton for punishment. If there was any guy in the entire school who was most likely to die next, it’s him.

But when she thinks this, it’s so unfair to him. How is it his fault that he was marked almost from birth with a lightning bolt across his forehead? He likes her, and she knows this, because even if he is incredibly brave and an impressive Seeker in his own right, he is not smooth. Cho smiles at him once during breakfast and he chokes on his pumpkin juice.

Other than that, though, he is cute. She wishes that how much she likes him as a person was enough to make her forget about Cedric. How convenient it would be if her emotions operated the way everyone else seemed to think they did – pain, denial, a brief grieving period, then onto the next. It’s been less than a year since Cedric died, but she knows him. She knows that he liked Harry and that he would be crushed to see her so unlike herself. 

When Hermione asks her to join their secret club, she says yes. Even if she was powerless to save Cedric, she won’t let Voldemort get away with more murder, at least not without a fight. If the time ever comes that she needs to know her defensive spells backwards and forwards, this club seems like the best bet.

Harry is their teacher, and of course he’s amazing at it. For once, she isn’t a good student. Cho constantly stuffs up spells when he walks past. Partly it’s intimidation and partly it’s…something else. It becomes apparent very soon that she does like Harry, but to rejoice in her newfound feelings would be naïve on her part. She still isn’t sure. It’s Christmastime and they’re talking after a DA meeting. Her eyes flit upwards to see mistletoe that wasn’t there just a moment before, and she’s not even sure if she or Harry conjured it, but she leans in to kiss him. Just so she knows, she wants so badly to know. Kissing Harry isn’t unpleasant, but it’s nothing like kissing Cedric. The unwanted comparison brings tears to her eyes and suddenly she’s crying on Harry Potter, but she can’t even bring herself to feel embarrassed or bad or anything else. She’s just so tired. When will she feel it again? When will she be able to kiss a boy and feel that spark? When will she be able to fall asleep at night and not wake up crying? It’s been months. Cho can’t remember the last time she felt happiness that wasn’t immediately followed by crippling guilt.

Despite her own feelings of hopelessness, she is not a quitter. She likes Harry! She really does. And he likes her, and he’s been so nice to her all this time, the least he deserves is a shot. They go on a date to Hogsmeade on Valentine’s Day. Considering they’re not even dating, she can feel a sense of impending doom from the very start of the date, as if they’re jinxing it. She’s looking at Harry’s face and wills herself not to think about her last boyfriend. Somehow, it always comes back to Cedric. She can’t help herself. Harry was the only one there when Cedric died, the only one at Hogwarts close to understanding how she feels! How can she not ask about it? It’s an attempt to gain closure or something close to it, but Harry doesn’t understand. How can he not understand? If the mere thought of her former boyfriend didn’t immediately result in a stinging behind her eyes, wouldn’t they both be happier? She could be a good girlfriend for Harry, but she’s starting to see that he wouldn’t be a good boyfriend. He isn’t willing to discuss what happened with her, not even for a moment, not even when her chest constricts with hope so tightly that she can barely speak when he brushes her inquiries aside. How could he be so—

It isn’t his fault that Cedric died. She doesn’t want to blame him. She doesn’t like this feeling growing inside her, this gnawing feeling of resentment towards Harry for never letting her in. They would both feel better if he opened up, but just as she wishes people would understand that they can’t rush her healing process, she tries to understand that she can’t rush his.