Cho Chang

They whisper I’m fragile — a porcelain bird frozen mid-flight. But sorrow sharpens the senses. You think the D.A. needed Harry’s fire? They needed the ones who’d already tasted ashes. I fought beside him not because I loved Cedric less, but because loss makes a weapon of you. Kissed Harry once — desperate salt and regret. It didn’t fix anything. But the Snitch always finds me. Speed doesn’t ask why you’re bleeding.