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Harry screwed up all the courage he had ever used and reached across the table.
Cho's hand was soft, and slightly cold. He wrapped his hand around hers to keep it warm. Cho grinned at him.
Harry felt his insides melt again, but this time he didn't feel he'd end up as a puddle on the floor.
"Ah, Cho, I, ah. Hermione insisted that I meet her later. She's wouldn't tell me why. But if you come with me, we could have lunch afterwards?"
Cho was looking at him oddly, and Harry held his breath.
"That sounds nice," she said.