Author's Note: Hey hey, it's me again, ditching my other fics for now and writing a one shot...I wrote this a while ago, actually, and it's pretty different. So let me know what you think, okay?

Disclaimer: (Insert witty disclaimer here).

She sobbed like her heart would break, though surely it was already broken. It broke that night and every day, waking up broke her heart all over again; the pain would never leave her. She huddled against the weeping willow tree, hanging onto its trunk like it was the only thing keeping her to the earth, keeping her from flying up into the sky to be with him. In a way, it was. Wiping away the endless flow of tears, she tilted her head to look at the sky. If she let go of the tree, would she really fly out of the world and see him again? Her grip loosened. She certainly hoped so. Releasing the tree completely, she stood. But something was wrong. She was still there, standing on the ground, helpless and alone. No one wanted to help her; she didn't want anyone's help. There was nothing anyone could do for her anymore.

"Cho! Cho?" Marietta Edgecomb's voice floated through the misty summer air, carrying over to the girl. She collapsed on the ground again. She couldn't handle anyone else meddling, pretending that they cared and they could help. She wished she'd never stood, because then no one would know where she was; she'd prefer it that way. But her friend was running over the grass, still damp with the morning dew. Her red hair flew behind her like a flag. She looked frantic. Okay, so maybe people did want to help her. But it didn't matter. She couldn't care less anymore. "Oh, sweetie!" Marietta wailed, throwing her arms around her petite friend. "Are you okay? I've been so worried! Do you want to talk about it?" She meant well; anyone could see that. But her constant babbling was only serving to make everything worse. Cho's dark brown eyes filled again with the tears that had plagued her since June.

"Just go." She spoke in a dull whisper, her voice hoarse from so much crying. "I want to be alone."

"Come on," Marietta continued, refusing to take the very clear hint she was given. "We'll go up to your house. Your parents are really worried."

"My parents," Cho spat, "have no idea what I am going through. No one does." She pondered this last sentence for a while. It was true; no one could dream of what she was feeling.

Cedric had been her first love. They'd met when Cho had gotten herself hopelessly lost on the way back from the library in her first year and she'd run smack into him. He steadied her, laughing a little, assuring her as she stammered apologies that really everything was fine. He'd led her back to the common room—it turned out she wasn't as far from it as she'd thought—and that had been the start of it. The months and years that followed weren't clear. It was all bouquets of roses and cut classes, chocolates, tuxes and dresses. It was moonlight and stars, sunrises and candlelight. It was tender kisses, love, joy, and bittersweet pain. Ups and downs, highs and lows. But the lows had only served to make the highs more passionate, more beautiful. This low, however…there was no way Cedric was going to come hurrying over, panting from the exercise, with a desperate expression. His hair wouldn't be in a state of disarray that he would attempt to smooth out as she managed to mockingly glare at him and demand if he knew what he put her through. He would never offer that plaintive puppy dog face that made speech (and anger) impossible, and he'd never say that he was sorry, that he'd meant to come back, but he'd been detained by something that positively couldn't wait, and he'd had nothing to look forward to but this moment. She could never forgive him.

"Why don't you try to explain it, then?" Marietta suggested, as if this were the easiest thing in the world to do. "It will make you feel better."

"No." Marietta couldn't be more wrong. Nothing could ever make her feel better. She thought again, and was hit with a wave of guilt. It was her fault that Cedric was dead. Her fault. She could have prevented it; maybe if they hadn't had that fight before he'd gone into that maze, he wouldn't have been so reckless. Maybe he would have just let Harry Potter take the cup and the glory that he was bound to get for something else later anyway. It was that that made Cho so miserable. What did it matter about the second task anyway? If she hadn't gotten him so riled up about it maybe he would have been thinking a little more clearly. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she held them that way, never wanting to open them again. "Marietta?"

"Yes?" Marietta looked up at her friend hopefully.

Cho held her breath. "Did he say anything about me? Before he went into the maze?"

"Come on." Marietta beckoned, not answering her friend's question.

"Marietta." Something in Cho's tone must have told her friend that she meant business, because the redhead stopped short.

"He gave me something for you. Said he knew you'd want it." Marietta sounded distinctly uncomfortable. "I think he had a feeling something bad was going to happen."

"What? What did he give you?"

Biting the inside of her cheek, Marietta shook her head and started toward the house. Cho raced after her, heart in her throat. What could it possibly be that was making her friend so nervous? As the two girls entered the house, Cho's head swam wtih possibilities. Marietta searched around a bit before she pulled out a simple, yellow and black sketchpad. Cho drew in a deep, audible breath. His drawings. The ones he'd never shown anyone. For her. "I didn't look at them." Marietta breathed. "I knew I had no business going in that book." Cho could only nod, for she didn't have the voice to show her gratitude. She flipped open the cover page, and there, on the front page, was a message written in familiar, messy printing.

Cho,

I know you wanted to look at these while I was drawing them, but I was trying to wait for the right time. I think tonight's as good a time as any, don't you?

Love,

Ced

It was so like him. Direct. To the point. And yet, warm and caring. She knew she could only wish to be like that.

She flipped the page again. It was one of her, that day by the lake. She was twirling around, her arms flung out at her sides as she stared at the sky, laughing. He hadn't included himself in the picture, but she remembered the day well. They'd just had an entire discussion about how if you spun around with your head tilted up, you got dizzy faster, and she had decided to try it out. He'd been watching her, and laughing so hard that he fell into the lake fully clothed. Her eyes closed again as she inhaled the sweet scent of the early summer air as though she were back in that moment. She could still hear his laughter. The corners of her mouth tilted upward as she remembered.

As much as she wished she could stare at that picture for the rest of her life, she also wanted to see the rest. They were all as eloquent as the first; simple pictures that conveyed a deep emotion and a real life story. She saw pictures of the English moor, sunrises and sets, oceans, and more. Every single one was an experience or even a conversation she had once shared with him. Many of the pictures were of them, or of her. These were the most painful to look at, but the most rewarding. She relived the past five years of her life in the pages of that sketchbook, remembering moments and conversations that had long since erased themselves from her memory. Finally, as she reached the last page, another inscription caught her eye.

There. Do you like them? I'll give this to Marietta just in case. If anything does happen, I want you to have it. (And by the way, yes, I will admit that in writing…that would make you right! But I'll be careful. We couldn't have you being right, could we? Scary thought.) Don't forget that I love you, no matter how many stupid arguments we've had.

Ced

The book fell to the ground, and Cho let out an anguished cry. She loved him so much. With every fiber of herself, she only wished that she had had the chance to tell him that one last time. She wanted to say the goodbye that he would never hear. How could she say she would never forgive him? She gazed up at the sky and mouthed a soundless, "I love you."