Small Cho/Oliver ficlet. I dunno where it came from. Written for a prompt - "Do you even understand?" "Don't talk." and "What's going on over there?"

(Edited because I didn't make the deadline. Deal with it. First Oliver/Cho ficlet of its kind in English. I'm really excited, if you can't tell.) :)

No idea where this came from. Don't ask, I dunno. Seriously. Any reviews, comments appreciated because this is a new pairing I've actually come to like a lot. Strange. I don't normally find my own pairings this way... That's why prompt-writing is awesome xD Don't like? Don't read or go write your own! :D

Cho was crying in the girl's loo. Again. Roger just didn't understand. He was an old friend. But JUST a friend! She choked on her tears, gasping with the effort to breathe.

"Ooh! Look who it is!" Moaning Myrtle teased, appearing behind Cho. Although Myrtle was a ghost, water was running off her in long rivulets.

Cho jumped, shivering in the ghost's presence.

"Go away, Myrtle. I'm not in the mood, today," Cho sobbed in between large breaths. Her chest heaved from her crying spell.

Myrtle laughed, floating up towards the ceiling.

"Looks like Little Miss Perfect isn't perfect anymore," Myrtle sneered, well, for a ghost.

Cho gave one last cry before she ran out of the bathroom, not caring anymore who saw her. Anything to get away from Myrtle. Cho ran, headfirst, down the corridor, tears falling onto the ground. Her face turned beet red as she heard snickers from fellow students. A Slytherin boy she recognized jeered at her, calling her a crybaby.

Cho kept running until she found herself outside. Collapsing by the lake, she couldn't decide if she felt like dying or vanishing into the earth. Complete invisibility might be a better option, she thought wryly. Face still contorted from crying and feeling humiliated, Cho lay in a heap. She kept incredibly still, her body only moving with the occasional twitch.

"Hey," a voice said. "You okay?"

Cho opened her eyes and saw a boy standing over her. Backing up until she hit a tree, Cho winced. She looked down and was surprised to find her knees were scraped. Something that looked suspiciously like pus oozed out of a cut on her thigh. Seeing that, her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

The last thing she remembered was the boy's eyes widening in horror. Whoever he was, she hoped he didn't mind.

"Sorry," she tried to say, mouth barely able to form the word.

"Don't talk," he said, placing a cool hand on her forehead. He was calm and - comforting. She quickly drifted into a suspended state while her body attempted to heal itself.

"What's going on over there?" a woman called, voice full of concern. She approached quickly, startling the boy.

"Oh, Professor McGonagall!" he gasped, surprised to see her. "I, I was just," he fumbled with his words.

"Mr. Wood," McGonagall said. "Step aside."

"Yes, Professor," he obeyed, feeling like a twelve-year old again. Oliver Wood, seventh year Gryffindor, Quidditch Captain, known for his temper and drive, meekly backed away.

McGonagall inspected the girl, shaking her head.

"This girl looks like she was under severe shock. I've seen it before. Wood, if you would be so kind, alert Professor - oh, he's here," McGonagall said, as if commenting on the weather.

"Oh, Filius!" McGonagall called, waving.

"Yes, Minerva? What happened?" Filius walked over as quickly as he could. He would never levitate in front of students unless he was teaching.

"I believe she's a Miss Chang. Mr. Wood?" McGonagall prompted Oliver.

"Uh, right, Professor," Wood cleared his throat. "I saw her run out here and collapse. She just - well, fell right over. I ran as fast as I could from the Pitch - we were practicing for the upcoming game -"

"Wood," McGonagall reprimanded.

"Right, sorry, Professor. Anyway, I came over to help and she just, well, passed out. As you can see. She's not hurt too bad, is she?" he asked, tentatively.

"Only Madam Pomfrey will be able to tell us that. Filius?" McGonagall asked, looking to Flitwick for permission.

Professor Flitwick did the honours.

Hours later, Madam Pomfrey had some news.

"She's awake," she said, brusquely, moving on to her other patients. "You can go see her, Filius."

"Oh, good heavens," Minerva sighed.

Flitwick opened the curtains hanging around Cho's bed and spoke to her quietly.

"Wood," McGonagall said, "you don't have to stay, you know."

"I know, Professor," Oliver replied.

"Very well, I leave you to it," Minerva stood up, looking every bit the part of a regal queen.

"What? You're leaving, Professor?" Oliver asked, nervously tugging at his robes.

"Filius doesn't need two over-eager Lions, does he?" She winked before disappearing outside the Infirmary.

Oliver Wood was stunned. It wasn't like Minerva McGonagall, bastion of Gryffindor strength and courage, to give parting shots to students. And she had winked! Merlin, what trouble had he gotten himself into?

Filius emerged a second later, not at all surprised that Minerva had left.

"Ah, Wood, good of you to stay," Filius squeaked. "Although, if you have other things to do," he coughed discreetly, "you may go. Miss Chang will be alright now. I trust she just needs some rest and proper care."

"Yes, Professor. Thing is, I thought I'd stay to make sure, seeing as I did find her, and all," Wood's voice trailed off slowly. He had the nagging sensation that he was blushing in front of Professor Flitwick.

Filius gave Wood a rather knowing smirk. If kind Filius ever smirked. Wood tried to remember the last time he had seen his professors act so playful. Nothing came to mind.

"Ah, gallant young Gryffindor, I shall leave my little Raven in your capable hands," Flitwick teased. "Thank you, Poppy. I'll stop by later tonight after the Staff meeting," Filius informed Poppy with a nod.

"Goodbye, Mr. Wood," Filius called over his shoulder, flapping his hand in a shooing motion. And with that, the diminutive Charms Professor vanished into the depths of Hogwarts castle.

Oliver approached Cho's bed slowly. The curtains were gone, he noted. Probably Flitwick's doing. He sat in the chair provided, a suitable seat for someone watching over a patient. Wetting his lips, he paused and realized he didn't know what to say.

He looked at her. She was younger than him by several years, he guessed. She was pretty, in an odd way. Her long dark hair matched her easily tanned skin. In winter, she was pale. He remembered having seen her on the Quidditch Pitch, although his recollections of her were vague. She was the only girl on the Ravenclaw team. Then he remembered: she was the girl every body was talking about after Quidditch matches. Even Harry fancied her. Wood grinned, knowing she couldn't see him. Why couldn't Harry or Cedric have found her? It was rumoured that after Cho rejected Roger Davies, her Quidditch Captain, Cedric Diggory of Hufflepuff was going to ask her out next month. Wood sighed and stared at her again.

If he allowed himself to think of girls as more than Quidditch players, which he mentally told Alicia, Angelina and Katie, he DID, he allowed that Cho was a pretty girl. Nervous with this mental allowance, Oliver fiddled with his tie. Finally, in the growing silence, Oliver looked away. He felt uncomfortable, almost creepy, sitting alone staring at a girl he had never met before. At least, not officially met. They weren't friends. They didn't share classes. They didn't even know each other well on the Pitch. She was a Seeker, Harry's counterpart. Not his. Oliver groaned and sat back, running a hand through his hair.

He imagined his younger sisters and cousins and decided to do what they did when they were bored.

Oliver started talking. He didn't know why, but there was something about this girl, Cho, he reminded himself, that made him feel compassionate.

"Hi, I'm Oliver. Oliver Wood. Nice to meet you. I know we've met before, but I just wanted to make it formal. Seeing as, you know, how we should have manners off the Pitch." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I dunno why you're here, but I noticed before you, I dunno, fainted? Well, since you're not talking, I guess I'll say it. Before you fainted, I realized you had been crying. I hope it wasn't anything too serious, like someone dying or because you lost something important or special to you." Oliver grinned, catching himself. "Sorry, I'm rambling again. Well, my point is - what I was going to say, uh," he lost his trail of thought.

Groaning, he cradled his head in his hands. He watched her out of the corners of his eyes. She didn't move a muscle.

Quietly, he said, "I had an aunt who died last summer. It was awful. Mum wouldn't talk to me for weeks. Da just sat in the corner, drinking. They were really close to her. It was so sad. I couldn't stay at home. I just - it was too horrible. I was always out, playing Quidditch with friends or staying at other peoples' houses. I couldn't face going home until July. Mum's first words were, 'Where were you?' and then we all cried a bit. Except Da. He just kept drinking." Oliver stopped, suddenly realizing what he said. Eyes wide, he frowned and glanced at Cho's eyes. They were closed, but he could see her eyelashes slightly fluttering.

"I don't even know why I'm saying this. Do you even understand? No, you don't. You can't. You're sleeping - or unconscious. I've never told this to anyone before." He was amazed at himself. Speaking to a girl about something other than Quidditch. Mentally he pictured the expression of his team. Harry would be sleeping, catching extra winks before practice. Fred and George would be too busy whispering. But Alicia, Katie and Angelina would be shell-shocked to know he had talked to another girl, without once mentioning a Quidditch play.

Softly, he reached over and touched her hair.

"I hope, if you're dreaming, you're having a nice, lovely dream. Maybe you're flying, high up in the air, away from the cares of this world. Maybe you're gliding over a lake or swimming with fish. Maybe you're just happy. I wish I could see what you see," he sighed. He realized, for the first time, he wanted something for someone else. But this wish was impossible. Simply because it wasn't guaranteed.

Oliver sat there quietly. For how long, he didn't know. The fading light of the sun told him how quickly time was passing.

Slowly, a small hand made its way to his arm. She held onto him with a light grip. It was comforting. He smiled, closing his eyes. If she needed something, he would feel her move. He felt confident in his Quidditch senses.

Flitwick entered the Infirmary at eight to check on his student. Students, he mentally amended. While Wood wasn't his favourite, the boy had a way with spells, probably from his Quidditch playing, although Flitwick would never EVER be caught dead admitting that to Minerva. Filius was amused to find a sleeping Wood next to Miss Chang. Her hand entwined in his. He couldn't help smiling before he made Wood's chair more comfortable. With a simple swish, Flitwick transformed the chair into a recliner.

"You owe me, Filius," Minerva said, changing from her cat Animagus form back into the strict Deputy Headmistress. Smiling, she held out her hand.

"It was well worth it," the Charms Professor acknowledged, chuckling. He gave her the promised coins.

Stretching her hands like cat's paws, Minerva yawned lightly before leaving, emerald green robes swishing in her wake.

Flitwick nodded once more to a dozing Madam Pomfrey and set off for the dungeons. Severus Snape owed him a drink.

And another round of edits, because my hurried/rushed writing had so many mistakes *sigh* c'est la vie maybe this is better...? (nothing of mine is perfect, I admit this upfront first and foremost because it's the nature of moi) XD lol

Again, reviews, rants, comments - this pairing is quickly growing on me. I might have to write more for it at a later time. ^^ haha