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When Cho gives up another attempt at falling asleep, the irritating red of sunset glow has finally disappeared from the sky. Every time she's closed her eyes, she's seen the Snitch being caught in front of her, and relived her own failure to speed up in time. All the wrong moves she's made.
She's kept seeing the Gryffindors hugging each other, and the fabulous long box braids escaping from Angelina Johnson's high ponytail, and her strong arms embracing all the brilliant players she, as their captain, is proud of. She's still heard Johnson's whoop among the sounds of partying from the Gryffindor tower.
Now there's only Marietta's snoring. It must be close to midnight. A warm May night.
Cho reaches for her broomstick under the bed, where she kicked it, having first thrown it aside at the end of the match. The poor broom deserves an apology. And flying is still the highest pleasure she knows.
Someone's passed her in the fragrant air above the lake shore.
"Caught you!" Angelina Johnson turns to flash her a grin.
"Quit taunting me!"
"Sorry! I didn't mean. I'm drunk and happy enough to dare ask you... You fly beautifully."
Cho snorts.
"Honestly. Always. Dance, too. I've wanted... ever since I saw you dance at the ball last year. I had great fun dancing with Fred but... That's when I realised I'd rather dance with a witch, and that perhaps you could be... like me?"
Cho does like her. "Yes. I'll fly with you."