Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and am making no money from this.
Cho
Some things about this summer have been surprising, some less so. As I expected, I've been spending as much time out of the house as I could. It's not that I've run away or anything absurd like that; no I'm simply outside. Mainly I'm continuing the exercises and training I was doing for Quidditch at the end of the last school year. It was a simple matter to transfigure some weights to, and of course running, whether distance or sprints, as well as hills to train on took no special measures.
I have no idea if I'll continue this in school; it's likely I'll be named captain of the team, so I could mandate this sort of training for the team. It's certainly had obvious physical benefits: my conditioning, my percentage of body fat, my endurance, my muscle tone, all have improved as a result.
I suppose it would be cliché of me to say it's also given me too much time to think, but the fact of the matter is my mind would be wandering and thinking regardless. Whether working out or studying for my NEWTs (as my parents have repeatedly and emphatically indicated they want me to be doing) my mind always finds a way to wander.
Nothing has changed between my parents and I. One might think it would have, given how last year ended; Umbridge recalled, the Educational Decrees repealed, none of it made a difference. Actually, that's imprecise; none was even spoken of. Though in a way it's unsurprising. For all the fanfare those decrees received and the Ministry's extremely public efforts to reform Hogwarts they were rescinded with nary a word. Partly it was because news of Voldermort's return drowned it out, but mainly it was a face saving measure.
Minister Fudge has spent the summer desperately trying to save his job. I felt it was obviously a losing endeavor, but he tried regardless. Human nature, I suppose. Ironically, one of the ways both he and his potential successors (since the end of his time in office seems a foregone conclusion to all) is to cozy up to everyone who was at the Ministry and helped to uncover Voldermort's return.
First it was a very obvious effort: the Order of Merlin, Second Class. Minister Fudge had us all at the Ministry for the ceremony, a gaudy thing whose obvious purpose was to have him photographed with all of us, giving us medals, shaking our hands and such. Not that I mean to sound unappreciative, it genuinely is a great honor, and unlike some instances of that medal being given out, we actually did do a service for the nation to earn it.
And then there's the instances of this or that special task force or some committee or another reaching out to us for our insights on Death Eaters, their activities or best ways to pursue them. Usually a letter suffices, but there are times where we've been asked to actually go to the Ministry and provide testimony. All a farce of course; none of them cares in the least what we have to say. It's all just so they can get their picture taken with us, so everyone can see how much they care and how hard they're working to keep the nation safe and all that sort of drivel.
Ironically Harry benefits the least from this. It seems old habits die hard, as the saying goes, and after the extended smear campaign against Harry, disdain for him is a very deeply ingrained habit for the government and The Daily Prophet and while they are no longer attacking Harry, he gets few mentions and faint praise when his name actually is raised.
Not surprisingly, Luna gets little mention as well. It isn't personal in her case it's simply a matter of people having actually spoken to her. Luna is not your textbook heroine, and not someone most papers would be eager to interview or quote.
So that leaves only five of us, myself, Hermione, Parkinson (or whatever one would call her now that she lacks a surname), and two Weasley siblings. We're regularly asked to come to the Ministry and consult on some matter or another (their code for asking us to appear in new photographs with them), get interviewed so some quote or another can appear in the paper, or contacted by this wizarding society or that so they can make us honorary member (and thus gain prestige).
At first I felt honored by the attention, basked in it even. I even allowed myself to think it would make a difference somehow. But it quickly became apparent that was not to be. Unlike the attention and adoration that came with winning the Quidditch Cup, this is almost all being used as a prop by others. Certainly the Order of Merlin is a genuine honor, and having my name become a household name is something the narcissist in me loves, but it has almost no practical meaning.
My relationship with my parents is still the same, distant, formal, and certain to go quite badly if I manage to get a contract with a professional Quidditch team. Mainly I try to ignore them this summer; give them their space, and other than the odd cursory greeting or reminder that I should study for my NEWTs, they do the same for me.
My friendship with Mariette Edgecombe is not something either of us has made an effort to repair either, so on the whole it has been a summer with little contact with anyone I actually care to speak to. Today, however, that changes.
Hermione and Parkinson (until I have a better way to refer to her I'll stick with her previous surname) have invited to take me shopping at a Muggle mall, along with Harry. I've never actually been shopping at Muggle stores, so it should be quite an interesting day; I've been looking forward to it since Hermione first suggested it.
I try to pick something to wear that will blend in. I've one really seen Muggles in casual attire going to and from Kings Cross station, and I suspect I'm erring on the side of conservative fashion choices, but as they say, it will have to do. It's a bit of a walk to where I'm meeting Hermione and Parkinson, an intersection of two roads a few miles from my house. Muggles and wizards tending to not live in close proximity (and thus wizarding residences not being on the Muggle road network) has its downsides at times.
I leave the house after breakfast, and get to the rendezvous point just on time. Within a minute Hermione and Parkinson arrive in a Muggle car, which Hermione apparently can operate.
"Hi Cho. Good to see you again." Hermione greets. She looks well enough, and if anything her hair is a bit more under control than last year.
"Heya Chang. Dressing a bit like a nun there, aren't you?" Parkinson asks. The summer has been kind to her; she's let her hair grow out, and her facial features have matured nicely. No more pug comments I think. Parkinson is a legitimately pretty girl now.
"I wasn't sure what would be appropriate for this," I blush a bit.
"Yeah well, we'll we're going shopping so we can get you something better."
"I assume we're picking up Harry first?"
"Yeah, we'll get him on the way."
"He said his relatives probably won't let him go, so we may have to improvise," Hermione states.
"I take it that's a euphemism for something?" I ask.
"Relax, Chang, we got this." Parkinson smirks. I take it that means either there is no plan whatsoever or Parkinson has plans that fit with her own special brand of charm.
It's a bit of a long ride to Harry's house. It's actually a fascinating experience; I've never seen how Muggles live. The population density is shocking;so many homes in such close proximity, many aren't even free standing structures; they share two common walls. I find it hard to understand how they can tolerate it. Of course at Hogwarts everyone has roommates, but I can't think of many wizarding families who would live in such close quarters to another. But then I suppose there aren't nearly as many wizards as there are Muggles.
That's the other thing I can't help but notice: Muggles are numerous to the point of absurdity. Every car we see has Muggles, every store has Muggle customers, every workplace is filled with them, every house is for them to sleep in at night. I've always known Muggles are more numerous than wizards, and going to and from Kings Cross Station every year I see some of Muggle London, but it's hard to grasp from a single journey back and forth just how vast Muggle society is. It's an amazing sight, one I had no idea was there, not in this sort of scale. I suppose it's as they say: I truly do need to get out more.
Pansy
Potter's house is this generic brick piece of crap. Whole street full of them, all the same, just different numbers on them. Yeah, real important people here I'm sure, all full of personality and each sharing two walls with their neighbors.
Hermione parks the car and we all walk to the front door. She rings the doorbell and this fat Muggle answers.
"Hello, we're here to see Harry Potter," Hermione says.
"There's no one here by that name," is the reply. From what Hermione told me, this guy must be Potter's uncle Vernon
"I'm quite sure this is the right house."
"Well it isn't. You've made a mistake." And with that the door is slammed in our faces.
"What a dick," I mutter. Hermione rings the bell again, with no result. She tries once more, still nothing. "Here, let me try." Hermione steps aside and rather than try the bell again, I take out a wand and casts Alohamora on the lock, instantly opening the door.
"W...what?" Vernon sputters, rushing over. "Now see here, this is breaking and entering."
Yeah, like I'm going to take shit from this ass. Before he even gets started with whatever dumb thing he has to say my wand is pointed at the man's throat, shutting him up. "So you do know what this is then. Good, that'll make this simple."
Harry comes down the stairs; probably heard all the ruckus."What's going on here? Hermione? Cho? What are you doing here?"
"I told you Harry, we're going out for the day," Hermione replies.
"Yeah, I know, you said so in your letter. But I told you, I can't go."
"What, this fat sack of crap said no?" I ask.
"He didn't give me permission, no."
"How about now?" I ask the Muggle. "Want us to take Potter and head out? Or maybe you'd like us to spend the day here?"
"Um, no, no, he can go," he lamely answers.
"Good," I start to lower her wand, but then a thought hits me and I aim it at the fat bastard again. "Tell me something, you give Potter an allowance?"
"An allowance? What, no, of course not."
"Thought so. Fine, hand over your wallet."
"You're robbing me? I won't have it. Wait, aren't you too young to do magic? I thought that was a law with your freaks, underage magic or some such. You can't do more than point that stick at me, can you?"
"Um, maybe he's right and you should calm down," Potter tries to interrupt me.
"Quiet, Potter," I don't bother sparing him a glance. "And you, Muggle, you're right, underage magic is illegal. But do you know how they know if an underage witch casts a spell? It's called The Trace. It's a spell put on your wand when you get it. It notifies the Ministry when the wand is used, and if it's in a place you shouldn't be casting, they come down on you. The Trace decays over time, vanishing when you turn seventeen. So if I use my wand, yeah, they'll know. Thing is, this isn't my wand, it's a wand that belonged to a wizard of age. So I can cast whatever the fuck I want and the Ministry won't know shit. So as I was saying, wallet. Now."
Of course the Muggle hands it over. I mean, come on, was there ever any doubt? I start walking out and make it almost all the way to the door before turning back around. "Oh, and just because I use magic don't think I don't know what a credit card is or how they work. If any of these cards gets declined or even takes too long to run I'll be back to make offerings of you all to a dark god."
And with that I'm out of here. Behind me I hear Hermione and Chang telling Potter to follow along, like it isn't obvious he's supposed to. Seriously, what the hell's he think we were here for if not to pick up his lame ass?
"Make offerings of them to a dark god?" Chang starts once we're outside. "Just what kind of impression of us do you think that man is going to have?"
"As people not to fuck with?"
"Maybe. But stealing from him and then threatening him? Is that really wise?"
"Why the hell not? What's he going to do?"
"Make my life miserable when I get back," Potter answers.
"Maybe you should threaten him too then."
"Pansy, please, be nice," Hermione tries to calm things down.
"Yeah, fine, whatever. You know.…" I start. "I'll be nice and calm if you let me drive."
"You don't have a license."
"I would if you hadn't interfered."
"I had to. I couldn't just stand by and let you use the Imperius curse just to get around paperwork issues."
"Wait, you know how to drive a car?" Chang asks.
"Yeah, sure," I answer. "Hermione was old enough to learn over the summer and I'm staying at her place, so when her dad taught her I was around and he taught me too. I'd have gotten that stupid license with Hermione if I had whatever stupid paper crap I need. No birth certificate, what a load of crap. Not my fault Muggles are obsessed with shit like that and wizards aren't."
But of course Hermione won't let me drive. She can be a trouble maker at times, but it's still a hell of a work in progress. Seriously, who gives a fuck if I have a license. Not like I can't deal with some idiot cop if I get pulled over. I'm sure Hermione would freak if I used magic on a cop, but what the hell though. Not like I have much to lose, so why the fuck shouldn't I do what I want?
I behave though, because I really don't want Hermione to freak. I may not have much to lose, but I have her, and damned if I'm going to fuck that up for a damned car. I'll keep asking to do crap like drive and just go from there. Even if Hermione's still too stuck on rules, she's worth it. Even with all the crap it cost me, she's worth it.
The mall is quite a place, a Muggle version of Diagon Alley. I remember when Hermione first took me to one. All those weird stores and crap, it's a hell of a thing. It's obviously Chang's first time; the girl is busy looking everywhere, like she's trying to memorize it all or something.
"Hey, Chang, try not to stare so much, ok? People are going to notice you gawking everywhere," I comment.
"Sorry, I didn't realize," she answers.
"Don't worry about it," Hermione brushes my criticism off. "Pansy was just as bad the first time I took her to a mall."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I mutter.
"So where are we going in here?" Chang asks.
"Hmm, maybe getting you something a bit more stylish to wear. So, how adventurous you feeling, Chang?"
"Adventurous, Parkinson?"
"Look, I'm not a Parkinson anymore, so cut it out with that shit, ok? The name's Pansy. We're out like friends, so we can act the part."
"All right, Pansy. I'm Cho, as I'm sure you know. And let's say I'm feeling very adventurous."
"Ah, so we can dress you up however we want?"
"Um, just what exactly are you planning?" Potter asks.
"Relax, Harry, it's just a bit of fun, girls out shopping together and all," Hermione reassures.
"I won't promise to stick with it, but I'll at least see what you come up with," Cho grins. All right, she wants to see how far we can go I guess.
"So Hermione, where should we start?"
Hermione thinks about it for a bit as we walk. "Well Cho did tease about wearing black leather last year."
"Serious? Like just as a look or full on S&M?"
"It was just a tease, but she was alluding to the latter."
"Looks like we've got our starting point." I don't know how far Cho's going to let us go, but I plan to get as much of a show out of this as I can along the way.
I figure my best bet for that show is to go all out from the start. You know, get the shortest skirt, tightest top that's the lowest cut and all that. We go to this big store at one of the ends of the mall and start picking stuff out. We don't let Cho see it, just at the end shove it all in her hands and usher her into a changing room.
"Um, are you sure about this?" Cho asks from inside the changing room.
"What's wrong?" Harry's all concerned and crap. Seriously, it's a changing room. What the hell is there to be worried about?
"It's nothing wrong, per se. It's just, I'm not sure if there shouldn't be more to some of these articles of clothing?" comes Cho's explanation.
"Oh stop complaining and just do it," I yell into the changing room.
"Cho, it's just us, so what's the worst that could happen? It's for fun, no big deal," Hermione tries convincing her.
"All right, I suppose. You all promise not to laugh or anything similar though?" Cho negotiates.
"We promise. Now come on."
After a bit of rustling around Cho finally comes out. She's wearing this tiny black leather miniskirt, and a matching bustier that's closer to one of those sports bra things than a real top. Hell, it even opens in the front, held together with laces, with this nice gap between each side so you can see Cho isn't wearing a bra.
Cho's looking damned fine in that outfit. Top like that is unforgiving, but she makes it work. Ton of cleavage for her wonderfully big tits. Great abs she's showing off too. Skirt's awesome too, nice classic flare to her hips and long legs. She's obviously been working out too from the muscle tone I'm seeing there. The sky high stilettos we stuck her in help too. I may be a pure blood, but in this case, I have to say, fuck their fashion. Muggle black leather like this is where it's at.
"Damn Cho, you make that work," I praise.
"You think so?" she asks.
"Absolutely, you look amazing, Cho," Harry agrees.
"Oh, well then." Cho strikes a few poses, blushing but posing like she's a model or some crap like that. Not that it's so farfetched, the girl's got the body for it.
"I think you should come home with me, Cho, spend a few nights. We can have some real fun together," I grin at Cho.
Hermione clears her throat loudly. "Forgetting someone, dear?"
"Not at all."
"Oh? I'm your girlfriend and we are rather serious. I think that means you don't get to have that sort of fun with anyone but me."
"What are you talking about?"
"You practically propositioned the girl, and in front of me. We're supposed to be exclusive you know," Hermione loudly insists.
"Exclusive? What the hell does that mean? We're together, yeah. But if there's a chance to have sex with a smoking hot chick like Cho there, then hell yeah we should do it. I wasn't going to cheat or anything, I was going to bring her back to share."
"Share?"
"Yeah. Like you said, we're together, so we share. It's not like we can't get someone else if there's a chance, just it's got to be both of us. Like some team adventure kind of thing."
"If this isn't a joke, it isn't very funny," Potter butts in.
"Hey, this is between Hermione and I."
"He's right, Pansy, it isn't that funny," Hermione agrees.
"What's supposed to be funny? People have stuff on the side, why can't we have Cho there? She's plenty hot enough."
"Most couples aren't like that; my parents certainly aren't."
"Yeah, but your parents are weird, all normal and stuff. You don't think both my parents had at least one thing on the side each? Or old Lucius there wasn't getting his knob polished somewhere other than Narcissa's honey hole? That's just how it is."
"No it isn't, not for most people, and I think you know that. You must have heard other people talking, friends, acquaintances in school, things like that?"
"I don't pay attention to that crap. Half of that is probably idiots who are lying or in denial."
"Pansy," Hermione frowns.
"What?"
"I think you know what actually is and isn't normal here."
"Yeah, fine, but so what? You're going to actually tell me you don't want to have a threesome with Cho here? I'm all for it, so what's the hang up here?"
"Hey!" Potter yells. "This isn't funny anymore. Whatever you and Hermione want to do in private is your business, but leave me and Cho out of it."
"I'm right here you know," Cho looks at Harry.
"Yeah, I know."
"So then please don't talk for me."
"What, you want to have sex with Hermione and Parkinson?"
"No, but I am capable of speaking for myself. I appreciate your trying to protect me, but speaking for me when I'm literally standing next to you isn't charming, it's condescending"
"Um, yes," Hermione starts after an awkward silence. "So let's just chalk this up to misunderstandings all around then? Just let it drop and move on?"
So apparently Hermione's hung up on this exclusive couple thing and Potter is overprotective of Cho. I guess I can understand the Potter thing, looking at Cho, yeah, lot to be protective of. Not that I really give a shit about him. Hermione not wanting anything like this though, I'm not sure what to make of that. I guess it's kind of sweet and romantic and crap, which defiantly fits Hermione. On the other hand, it'd be a hell of time we could have. Apparently not though.
In the end we wind up getting Cho a fair bit of stuff, including that black leather thing she modeled for us. I don't know if she'll actually wear the stuff or not, but if she does she'll be the hottest thing in Hogwarts.
True to her reputation she makes us stop at a bookstore so she can go shopping there. She winds up getting a bunch of books, crap on Muggle Asia, you know Japan, China, Korea, that kind of stuff. She also gets some stuff on martial arts of all things; guess Cho wants to learn to beat the crap out of people. Hey, no skin off my back. Hell, we're making Harry carry everything we've bought, and books are damned heavy. Given how much she bought I think maybe Cho really is a sadist.
Hermione
Pansy living here has been nothing like I thought it would be. I once thought of her as every parent's nightmare to have introduced as their child's girlfriend; everything about Pansy says that should be true. Instead my parents love her. Pansy has been polite to a fault; her manners are fit for Buckingham Palace. Of course I knew she was a pure blood so would have been raised with proper manners, but I'd never seen her use them. Around my parents she's polite, well spoken, impeccably mannered, and they absolutely adore her.
I also thought there'd be no end to her complaints about living in a Muggle home and having to deal with technology and so on. Not a one. It took time to teach Pansy the basics of Muggle technology, but she took to it without a complaint. Actually some of it she rather liked.
I thought there was an outside chance Pansy would like some video games, and she does, but she much prefers movies. Specifically American action movies from the 1980's. The pointless, wanton violence, the cheesy one liners, she eats the stuff up.
It's all very odd. Odder still is the fact she hasn't shown any reaction to matters with her family. She hasn't talked to me about it, she hasn't shown outbursts of anger, I haven't heard her crying in her bed at night, nothing. Usually when my parents go to work Pansy and I find our way to the same bed together, but even there, it's like it never happened to her. I'm getting worried.
The closet she's come to showing any inappropriate emotion was with Harry's uncle. I expected she'd make threats and such (she is Pansy after all) but pointing her wand like that scared me a bit. Drawing her wand was something I expected, pointing it in Vernon's direction, again, not unexpected. But to level it at the man's throat, that's what you do when you mean to attack. No, not attack, to kill. It proved idle as threats go, but still.
Stealing the man's wallet was concerning as well. Granted yes, he has abused Harry greatly, practically starves the poor boy has probably spent a tenth of what a responsible guardian would spend on their charge, but still, that's no excuse to steal from him. I know Harry has said other wizards have threatened too, but I'm concerned none the less..
I really should have stopped Pansy, but I'm a bit worried about what she would have done. I know she's dealing with a great deal, and the more you repress and the longer you do it for, the worse it is, and I certainly don't want to contribute to that, but robbing people, even deserving people is hardly the proper outlet. I don't know, I suppose I should have at least said something. Pansy just worries me so much sometimes.
She still is happy to be around me, she smiles and so on, and we enjoy our time together, both in bed and just doing normal couple things, so it's not that she's depressed or completely stifling her emotions somehow. In fact she seemed elated by kittens of all things.
Apparently Crookshanks was rather busy with my parents own cat. So busy that near the end of summer we have four brand new baby kittens in our house.
"Oh wow, they're so cute," Pansy stares at them, looking absolutely amazed.
"They really are," I agree. "I suppose while we're still here I can take two and you take two?"
"What, like to keep?"
"Well yes, of course. They're our cats, after all. We'll have to leave most of them here when we go back to school; I'm taking Crookshanks with me, so I'd leave both of mine, but you could take one of yours with you."
"Only one?"
"Pansy, the rules only allow one. Besides, one kitten is plenty to handle while you're taking classes and whatnot."
"All right, I suppose."
I strongly suspect she plans to sneak both her kittens to school, but there's no point arguing about it now.
There's a lot of ways I've been able to describe Pansy since I first met her. No share of negative words for the first four years I knew her, certainly. Last year the terms became more positive, then even affectionate. Clever, cynical, intelligent, pretty (time is very much Pansy's friend on that front), girlfriend, lover, but never cute, not until now.
Pansy with her kittens is absolutely adorable. The way she plays with them, it's like a little girl: smiling and innocent, I love watching Pansy playing with the kittens almost as much as I enjoy playing with the kittens myself.
"You know you should really name them," I tell Pansy. Her two kittens, a boy and a girl still have no names.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll get to it. Just not good with names I guess. Besides, this way I get to see what they're like, watch them grow a bit then decide."
"That just sounds like a rationalization for being lazy."
"Yeah, whatever. They're my kitties so I can do what I want."
There's no doubt Pansy's kittens have personality: both are adventurers. They love to go all over the place, first exploring the house and then quickly the back yard. They range far, can move fast and love to climb. I suppose that's typical of cats, but it makes them hard to find too. It gets so bad I have to resort to putting a tracer spell on their collars.
We find them hiding in the backyard all over the place, in trees, under bushes, absolutely everywhere, and every afternoon just as it's getting dark Pansy is there asking me to use that tracer spell and find her kittens.
"Hey, Hermione, can you use that spell again?" Pansy asks me, just like every other day. And just like every other day, I do.
I cast the spell, seeing what nook or cranny the mischievous kittens may have gotten to. And just like every other day I find the girl kitten's collar easily enough, but the boy's is different; he's farther, much farther.
"Um, this is odd. It seems like one of your cats got loose from the yard somehow. Actually he's quite a bit farther, wandering around the neighborhood."
"That cat loves his adventure," Pansy grins. "All right, we'd better go get him."
Author's Notes:
So here's the first chapter of this story. I hope everyone is glad to see this sequel and enjoyed this chapter. I'd like to thank that-fan for all his help with this chapter. It took a little work to get the tone of part of it right.
Like every author, I love to get reviews, so if you have something to say, please leave one, they're much appreciated. Thanks.