Harry's normal nightmares were filled with DA meetings and the death of Cedric. Sandwiched somewhere between the two however, were dreams of Cho Chang, Cedric's girl. He'd already kissed her once, but she cried afterwards, leaving him with a weird feeling. Was he really that bad a kisser? Or did she miss Cedric so much, even another boy's kiss drove her to tears? If so, Harry felt eventually in time the tears would cease, but how long? He wanted her to feel like he did now, just thinking of her. He wanted her to feel the nervous, yet exciting murmurs in the depths of the stomach. He wanted her to swoon somewhere deep inside when their lips met again. For that first time he kissed her, that's how it was for him. A rush of something had overtaken him and nearly made him collapse against her. He fought it, trying to be cool, but what of the next time? Would there be a next time? He was thankful that the thought of her chased the bad nightmares away. That the memory of the softness of her lips lightly against his made him forget that Voldemort was out to kill him. When kissing her, it was like nothing else mattered at all. Was that how all kisses were supposed to be?