When I first wrote this, I used the Finnish speech marks, and people complained they couldn't read it. Here it is: the readable version of "Harry's and Cho's Christmas, part I"
It was Christmas Eve.
Harry was walking down the stairs, when he saw Cho. She was leaning to a wall, her face wet with tears. She didn't seem to have noticed him.
"Er… Cho?" Harry said quietly. "Are you OK?" She jumped, and wiped her eyes with her hand. "I'm fine," she said, and turned around to go away.
"Cho wait!" Harry called after her. "Cho, what is it?"
Cho didn't answer; she just started to ran. Harry ran after her. She ran fast through the corridors, turned sometimes left, sometimes right and tried to get away from Harry. Finally she found herself facing a dead end, in a little chamber filled with different sorts of mirrors, illuminated by candles, which reflected in the mirrors. There was only one way out, the door opening, in which Harry stopped. "Cho, what is it?" he asked again. "Have I done something"
Cho shook her head. "It's just…" she started, but burst in tears again. She turned, so he wouldn't see her crying, but the thousand reflections on the mirrors on the opposite wall betrayed her. Harry stepped forwards, trying to decide what he should do. Neither of them noticed that the door behind them closed silently.
"It's just," she sobbed, "it's a year since the Yule ball…"
Harry suddenly understood. The Yule ball last year… Cho had been Cedric Diggorys partner. Cedric, who had died during the Triwizard Tournament last year. Cho hadn't been herself after his death, always, when Harry had seen her in the corridors, she had looked pale, and had dark circles around her eyes.
Harry didn't know what to do. Slowly he walked to her, and lay a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I know," he said quietly.
"It's so hard to understand that he is gone," she sobbed. "And I didn't even get to say goodbye."
"I know, Cho," Harry said. "He was a fine person." Cho didn't answer. Harry turned her firmly around. "Look at me, Cho," he said. "I know it's hard, but you've got to go on with your life. He wouldn't want you to…" he got no further. Cho slapped him in the face.
"I don't care," she cried. "It was my fault. I asked him to take the Cup. For me! I wanted him to win!"
"It wasn't your fault," Harry said again. "It was my fault. I told him to take the cup with me. It was me Voldemort wanted, not him."
Cho looked at him, surprised at the bitterness in his voice. Harry tried to hold back tears, but they kept burning his eyes. He couldn't look at her. "It was my fault, Cho, not yours. And he forgave me. And so did his parents. They thanked me for bringing his body back, when I had just killed him!" Harry couldn't stop the tears. "I'm sorry, Cho," he whispered.
Cho looked at him. "It's not like that," she whispered. "It wasn't your fault. It was Voldemort, who killed Cedric."
"I told him to take the Cup, Cho," Harry said again. "You should stop accusing yourself, Cho. It wasn't your fault."
"Then it's not your fault either," she said. Harry looked at her, and saw, for the first time in months, that the blank expression she had had since Cedrics funeral was gone. For the first time in months he saw some of the old, cheerful Cho.
There was something else in her expression, though. Something, that he had never seen there before. Very slowly he pulled her towards himself. She didn't resist, but she didn't look at him, when he embraced her.
"Look at me, Cho," Harry whispered, and she lifted her face slowly. The thousands of mirrors reflected in millions of fading images, when their lips met and they shared their first kiss.
Harry didn't know how long they had stood there, but suddenly he realised how dark it had become. The most of the candles had already died down. "Cho," he said quietly. "We should maybe go back. People maybe miss us already."
"What, oh yes," she said, looking at her watch. "But it's still a couple of hours 'til dinner."
Harry turned, to where he thought they had come from. There was mirrors, but not a doorway. He turned around. No door.
"Er… Do you know where we came from?" he asked Cho. She looked around. "Where is the door?"
Harry went to the nearest wall, and examined it carefully. "Here is no sign of a handle," he said. He moved on to the next wall. "Nor is here."
"Do you mean we can't get out?" exclaimed Cho, with panic in her voice.
"I don't know. Try to tap on the mirrors on that wall with your wand, and I'll take this one," Harry said pointing at the walls.
They tapped on the mirrors with their wands, but nothing happened. The candles died out one by one, until there was only one left. "Lumos," Harry whispered to his wand. It spread some light to the room, but couldn't chase away the shadows that lay in the corners. Harry sat down and leaned towards a wall. "We can't do anything now," he said to Cho. "We should probably just wait; maybe the door opens again. It must open, because the candles were new when we came."
Cho sat down besides him, and leaned her head on his shoulder. Harry put his arm around her, and they sat quiet, watching the last candle die out.
"Harry," Cho whispered. "What's that?"
Harry looked at the direction she pointed. The mirrors on the wall on his left had started to shimmer, and a long, thin shadow appeared in them. The shadow glided to the next wall, and before Harry could do anything, it stepped into the room. Harry recognised the shadow immediately. It was someone, he had seen far too often. The long, thin man in black robes, with a wand, that he held carefully "Voldemort," he hissed.
"We meet again, Harry," Voldemort said. "What a coincidence, that you should be in this room."
Harry raised his wand. "Expelliarmus," he shouted. A jet of red light blasted from his wand. It went through Voldemort, who laughed. "I'm just a shadow, Harry," he said. "You can't hurt me, but I… I can hurt you."
Then Voldemort noticed Cho. "Good evening, my dear," he said. Cho looked scared. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your little friend, Harry?" he asked, his livid, scarlet eyes glittering unpleasantly. "How rude of you. Maybe you should like me to persuade you a little bit?" There was menace in Voldemorts voice. He raised his wand, and the slits he had for nostrils, vibrated slightly.
At the same time as Voldemorts cold, high voice said "Crucio", Harry flung himself in front of Cho, and the Cruciatus Curse hit him instead of her. He heard Cho scream, but he couldn't understand, what she said. The pain was too all consuming. He wished it would end, he longed for death, whatever was better than this pain. Somehow, it still felt a bit less intense, as he remembered it.
Then it ended. Voldemort smiled. Harry looked for his wand; he had dropped it when he had tried to protect Cho.
He looked at her. She was trembling, but she looked very determined. She picked up Harry's wand, which had slid to her feet, and gave it to him. "How did you get here?" she asked Voldemort.
"Funny you should ask," he said. "You see, already while I was in Hogwarts, I decided to secure my position. I knew that some of the teachers here wouldn't like my ideas, so I got the idea of a spell, that would guarantee me entrance here."
While Voldemort talked, Harry slowly moved closer to him. "Keep on talking, Cho," he thought. "Just a little bit longer!"
"What kind of spell did you use?" she asked.
Voldemort laughed. It was a scaring, unscrupulous laugh. "Oh, I'm afraid I cannot tell you," he said. "You know, powerful Dark Magic isn't anything to play with."
Just one more step, Harry thought. One more step. He hadn't any idea of what he would do then, though.
"It was nice talking to you," Voldemort said. He raised his wand. "I'm truly sorry we don't have time to chat longer. But, you know, duty calls…"
Harry jumped forwards, rage filling him, and, at the same time, as Voldemort shouted "Avada Kedavra", his voice cried out the same. Two flashes of green light lighted up the room, and the shadow of Voldemort broke into thousands of splinters, which escaped from the room breaking their way through a solid-looking wall of mirrors.
"Cho," Harry whispered. "Cho?" There was no answer.
"Lumos!" Harry's voice was trembling, as though he was afraid of what he was going to see.
Cho lay on the floor. She was very pale, and her breathing was fast and irregular, but she was alive. Harry lifted her up carefully and carried her out through the doorway Voldemort had opened and down the corridors they had come through hours before.
Harry carried Cho directly to the hospital wing, but there wasn't anyone there. He couldn't leave her, so he carried her down to the Great Hall, where all the people that had stayed at Hogwarts over Christmas were just starting on the dinner, Madame Pomfrey among them.
"Harry!" Ron shouted. "Where have you been?" Harry ignored him. He needed to talk to Dumbledore immediately.
"Madame Pomfrey!" he shouted. "Could you come over here, please? Cho is hurt."
She hurried towards him. Dumbledore and the other teachers followed her. "What has happened?" Madame Pomfrey asked.
"Voldemort," Harry said. "He was inside the castle. Or… at least a shadow of him was."
"Where?" asked Dumbledore sharply.
"In a room with lots of mirrors," Harry said. "We were there, when the door closed, and when all of the candles had died out, a shadow of Voldemort appeared. And he tried to kill Cho, but failed… And then I…" He couldn't say he had used Avada Kedavra, not in front of Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey. "Then the shadow of him just shattered," he finished.
"Exactly how did he try to kill her?" asked Snape softly. "The Dark Lord isn't a person that likely fails on that task."
"Avada Kedavra," Harry answered. Snape made a voice of disbelief. "Hogwarts is well protected. You must have imagined, Potter," he said softly.
"Then what happened to Cho?" Harry looked down at her. Cho showed no signs of waking up, and her breathing was fast but weak.
"I think you could explain that, Potter," Snape hissed softly. "After all, she was with you."
"Enough, Severus. Could you show me the room?" Dumbledore asked Harry.
"But Cho…"
"Madame Pomfrey will take care of her," Dumbledore said. Harry stroke Cho's hair gently and stood up. "This way," he said. He led Dumbledore, Snape and Professor McGonagall through the corridors towards the room with mirrors. Left, right, right again, left, and once more right. At the end of the corridor, the open door revealed thousands of reflecting images on the mirrors on the walls and shattered pieces of glass on the floor. And then, in front of their eyes, a wall of thick smoke rose from the threshold and turned into a solid wall.
Snape walked to the wall and touched it. Nothing happened. He tapped it with his wand. It had no effect whatsoever. Professor McGonagall walked to him. Harry heard them discuss the wall with lowered voices.
"Er… Professor Dumbledore," Harry said. Dumbledore looked at him. "When Voldemort tried to kill Cho I…" Harry stopped to think how to say what he had to say. "I tried to kill Voldemort," he said quietly. "With Avada Kedavra," he added.
Dumbledore looked at him. "And now you're afraid of being expelled and that the Ministry will be after you, and you will be sent to Azkaban." Harry nodded.
"I don't think you could have killed anyone with that curse," Dumbledore said slowly. "It's too advanced magic for you. And besides, I don't think the Ministry would mind having Voldemort killed," he added, with a twinkle in his eyes. Then his expression became serious again. "I'm glad you told me this, Harry. Now we know how to fight Voldemort, if he appears here again. And I hope I can trust on you. You won't use the curse again, will you?"
"I don't know why I said the words," Harry said miserably. "They just came to me. It was just… when he attacked Cho…"
Dumbledore didn't say anything. Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall returned to them. "I'll take Flitwick here first thing tomorrow," Professor McGonagall said. "He could maybe open the door. But now, Harry, I think you should spend this evening in the hospital wing. Come on…"
As the four of them walked out of the corridor, thick smoke filled the corridor and turned into stonewall, which was impossible to distinguish from the rest of the wall.
"Tom Riddle," said Dumbledore sadly. "Probably the most talented student that has ever been to Hogwarts." He sighed. "Now, Harry, the hospital wing. We could maybe even find a bed next to Cho."
Please review! And if you like the story, I have already written two sequels, and there will be more… (This is turning out to be a pretty good series…)