OR DIE TRYING: CHO CHANG'S SEVENTH YEAR

By monkeymouse

NB: JKRowling built the Potterverse; I'm just redecorating one of the rooms. And one of the great things about JKR telling the story from Harry's point of view is that stuff could be happening all over Hogwarts that Harry isn't aware of.

Rated: PG

Spoilers: Everything

xxx

3. Friends and Family

"What am I doing wrong!" Penelope howled. It was a frustrated cry that could have been heard outside the house.

Cho had spent an hour trying to teach Penelope Clearwater to produce a Patronus. She repeatedly demonstrated her own Swan Patronus, she repeated what Harry Potter had taught Dumbledore's Army about producing a Patronus—and still, after repeated tries, Penelope could only coax a vague silver cloud out of the end of her wand.

"Maybe we should rest for a bit," Cho suggested. The truth was, she was puzzled as well. Penelope was older, certainly more experienced, and just as studious as she remembered her at Hogwarts; a complete Ravenclaw girl. It shouldn't have been this difficult.

They had been practicing in the Clearwaters' living room, to make sure that there was enough room. They now moved to the kitchen, where Penelope used a Chilling Charm on a couple of bottles of butterbeer.

"Got that one right, anyway," she said gloomily. "How did you do it the first time?"

"Well, I guess I just picked the right memory."

"Something to do with Cedric?"

"Well, no, because he was dead. Yes, we had some wonderful times together, but now it's all mixed up with sorrow. It has to be something that's pure happiness, and nothing else. I pulled something out of my childhood; maybe you should do the same."

"There just isn't a lot to choose from for me," Penelope sighed. "My first bits of magic, I mean, I never saw them coming. I'd drop a dish or something, and it would shatter, and then, while I fretted about it, it would all come back together, good as new. It frightened me at first, but I didn't let on to my folks. I was pretty much comfortable with it by the time the first Hogwarts owl arrived, but they were still only beginning to catch on."

Cho took a sip of her butterbeer. "The hair thing?"

Penelope nodded. Hair seemed to be one of the earliest barometers of magic; a parent could cut or style a child's hair, and it would all be undone in an hour. "Of course, they thought they were getting old and forgetful, even though they weren't yet forty," Penelope chuckled. "Magic would have been the last thing to occur to either of them."

Cho nodded, even though she'd never heard a Muggle-born talk about her childhood before. There were so few at Hogwarts—and one of them happened to be Hermione Granger, who was really a sore point with Cho at the moment. Penelope interrupted Cho's thoughts:

"Did you know what animal it was going to be before you started?"

Cho shrugged. "I hadn't given it a thought, actually. Do you suppose that's the problem here? I mean, do you have some animal in mind?"

Penelope actually started to blush. "Yes, well, it's … do you think that's the problem?"

"Could be. What is it?"

"Well … a gryphon."

It was clear to Cho at once. "Let me guess: body of a lion, wings of an eagle. You wanted a Patronus that would be the symbol of you and Percy."

Penelope bit her lip and nodded her head. She looked as if she might burst into tears.

"Please don't take on," Cho smiled, gripping Penelope's hand in her own. "I can say from experience it doesn't change anything. Anyway, that's probably why it keeps going wrong. You've got two thoughts going at once: your happiest memory, and your wanting it to be a gryphon. Just let the Patronus be whatever it's going to be."

"D'you think it'll work?"

"Only one way to find out, isn't there?"

Penelope sat, sorted out her thoughts, and tried again. Finally, the third time she said "Expecto Patronum," a cloud of silver vapour gushed out and resolved itself into an eagle which flew out of the kitchen and into the living room.

Penelope actually ran to the living room by herself, seeming to forget about Cho, chasing her eagle. When she followed after, Penelope was creating a second Patronus, and then a third.

"Cho! Look! I can do it! I did it! I mean, you did it!"

"We both did it," she smiled. Before she could say anything else, Penelope grabbed her hand and pulled her to the sofa.

"I don't know how I'll get to sleep tonight," Penelope grinned, barely able to keep still. "I feel so …"

"I know what you mean. So, what was your memory?"

"My Sorting. I didn't know about Muggle-borns or anything like that. I always thought I was some sort of freak for being magical. When it came time to put the Sorting Hat on, I was terrified that it wouldn't send me to any house, that it would say 'Here now, you don't belong here at all; just get on back home,' or something. And then it said, 'Don't fret yourself, my dear. Hogwarts is where you belong, and your House shall be Ravenclaw!' Well, the Hat could have said I had to live in the Potions dungeon and I still would have been relieved, but to be in Ravenclaw—that was such a joy! I mean, I'd read about all of the Houses the first day I got 'Hogwarts: A History.'"

"I wonder why the other Houses complain about that book so much."

"Well, it's their loss if they've never read it. But what are we doing here? Let's get back to the kitchen! This is a big night!"

"What do you have in mind?"

"To Spell us up a cake!"

xxx

And Penelope did create a pumpkin layer cake with blue and bronze icing that tasted of honey and fruit. "Why don't you send one of these to Percy?" Cho asked. "You know the saying about the way to a man's heart."

"Why don't you send one to your boyfriend, then?"

That put a small cloud over the celebration, as they thought about the unattainable boys they each loved so deeply. They left half of the cake until Sunday morning, and finished it for breakfast, with tea.

"Cho!" Penelope shouted out suddenly while she was pouring. "I almost forgot to mention. The oldest Weasley boy is getting married!"

"Would that be one of the twins? I thought Percy was the oldest."

"No, there's two above him. The oldest is Bill Weasley. He's been off in the Sahara, researching spells for Gringotts."

"Sounds dangerous."

"Maybe it was, but he got back in one piece. And you'll never guess who he's marrying!"

"Tell me, then."

"The Beauxbatons Champion!"

"Fleur!" At the Tri-Wizard Tournament, the Beauxbatons students had stayed in Ravenclaw House and eaten with them. Fleur Delacour had struck Cho—and most of Hogwarts—as haughty and aloof, but the longer she stayed in Hogwarts, the more human and approachable she became. Part of it was losing some of the Tasks, which gave her some much-needed humility.

"Fleur got better toward the end," Cho said, adding cream to her tea. "How are they all getting on?"

"Well, Molly, Mrs. Weasley, that is, she doesn't seem to think Fleur's good enough for her boy. Personally, I think all mothers are like that. They can never stand to see their sons go off, while it seems they can't wait for their daughters to leave home."

"But the wedding's still on?"

"From what I hear, wild hippogriffs couldn't tear those two apart. His mother will just have to learn to like her, that's all."

"I guess life with her can be a bit strange," Cho said between forkfuls of cake; "I know it was at Ravenclaw. With that veela ancestry of hers, she walks into a room and all the males go completely to pieces."

"Most of the males," Penelope corrected. "Mister Weasley has never fallen under her spell."

"Well, he's an older wizard, more experienced."

"Experienced is right. The fact is, he loves his wife much too much to succumb to a veela; probably immune to love potions and the like as well. He just can't imagine anyone better than the love he's found."

Neither can I, Cho thought.

xxx

It was a few minutes after noon when Cho Chang hopped out of the fireplace in the parlour of her home. The only one to greet her was the cat, Chairman Miao. With all the talk of Death Eaters on the loose, this worried her. She looked around and saw the note from her mother on the mantel:

Come downstairs to help out as soon as you get back.

It wasn't unusual for the herb shoppe to be open on a Sunday. Usually, though, her parents wouldn't open until one o'clock. Sure enough, after she dropped her overnight bag in her room, she went downstairs, found that the shoppe was not only open early, but fairly crowded.

Cho's mother was bent over behind the counter searching for gentian root. She glowered at Cho … as if I was supposed to KNOW about all this without someone telling me, Cho thought. Still, she kept her own composure as she stepped behind the counter: "How can I help you, ma'am?"

xxx

The shoppe closed a little after five; a couple of hags held things up by arguing over the last of the valerian. No sooner had Cho locked up and spelled the place clean then she was called upstairs by her mother.

"Put on something good," Lotus said to Cho as she rushed from kitchen to dining room and back; Cho could smell something wonderful each time Lotus went in or out of the kitchen. "The Tans will be here at half past. Show them to the parlour and serve them whatever they're drinking." She was off again before Cho could reply.

She looked through her wardrobe, and realized that she had no dress robes for summer. There was one set she had planned to wear to the Third Task, but she and Cedric had argued, not knowing she would never see him alive again. Still, she was finally past losing control of her emotions; she put on the robes, which adjusted themselves to the few inches she had grown in over a year. No sooner did she walk out of her room when she heard the street bell; the Tans were here already.

Cho had seen much more of the Tans, who after all lived next door, before she went away to Hogwarts. They were a couple of Chinese wizards, who seemed slightly older than Cho's parents. Lian Li Tan dealt in Chinese artifacts for Muggles in a shop in the West End, while his wife dealt imported magical items in a shop in Diagon Alley. They'd lost their only son in the war against Voldemort, and never spoke of him when Cho was around. However, once a year, the shop would open late, or stay closed altogether, and Cho came to realize that it was the anniversary of their son's death.

Mister Liang's face was rather flushed; the after-effects of having dosed himself with Pepper-Up Potion after catching a cold. He and his wife were shown into the parlour, and they took a seat on the sofa.

"What would you like to drink?" Cho asked.

"Just a glass of water for me," Mister Tan said. "That Potion always makes me thirsty."

"Missus Tan?"

"Cho, you're seventeen years old now, aren't you?" Cho nodded. "Well, then," the older woman smiled, "I expect you can call me by my name without offending me."

"Oh; of course."

"Well, then, I'd like two things: some chilled green tea, and for you to join me for a minute."

Cho Spelled up three tall chilled glasses, and then sat in the comfy chair just across the coffee table from the Tans. As she sat, Cho glanced nervously at the kitchen door.

"Now don't you worry about your mother," Mo Tan smiled. "She can find her way around her own kitchen, I'm sure, and I asked you to stay here for a bit."

"Yes, ma'am." Mrs. Tan raised an eyebrow. "Sorry; Mo. I'm afraid this'll take some getting used to," Cho chuckled nervously. "The way you write your name, it means 'hair,' doesn't it?"

"Yes, and I hated it when I was young. Made me sound like some kind of monster. But the fact is, I was born with a full head of hair already showing. It was the only logical name."

Cho took her first good look at Mrs. Tan in ages. Her hair was still black, but gathered into a tight bun. She had olive-coloured skin, and the thought crossed Cho's mind that she was a few shades darker than Michael Corner. Her face wasn't pretty, but had a kind of stately, classically Chinese beauty to it. "Stately" was probably the best word to describe her, Cho decided; Mrs. Tan, even though she was a merchant and the wife of a merchant, commanded respect because she had made peace years ago with her life, and could ask Cho to do things for her without seeming heavy-handed about it.

"I just wanted to say," Mrs. Cho went on, "how sorry we were to hear that young Diggory was a friend of yours."

More than a friend, Cho thought; all she said was, "Thank you."

Mr. Tan nodded. "You see, our son was only eighteen years old when he was killed in the last war."

Cho couldn't help asking, "How did it happen?"

"He and some of his mates had been attacking Death Eaters, then retiring to a safe-house in Croydon South. Well, it wasn't so safe; the Death Eaters found where it was, then set the house on fire. He was burned alive."

There was a slight tremble in Mrs. Tan's jaw. "I fretted about it for years; it was such a terrible way to die. Of course, he knew it was likely to happen; we all knew it. And it would have been worse if he'd never fought in the war at all and was killed anyway."

Before anyone could say anything else, Lotus stuck her head out the kitchen door: "Cho, I really need your help."

"My fault, my dear," Mo Tan spoke up cheerily. "Something I wanted to talk about with your daughter. Didn't mean to keep her."

Lotus may have been displeased, but didn't let it show. "Cho?"

"Excuse me," Cho said to the Tans and went into the kitchen. "Mummy, I'm sorry…"

"Set the table," Lotus snapped. "I can't do that and cook, too."

Cho went into the dining room and began spelling plates out of the cupboard and onto the table. She waited until she was done to think: why did you invite them if you didn't want to do the work?

xxx

As they ate a delicious seven-course Chinese meal, the two men mostly talked business.

"Witches coming and going from your place all day," Lian Li Tan said, "can't help but notice it. All this war talk doesn't seem to have hurt you."

"Some day," James Chang said, sounding almost like a professor, "some genius will figure out a way to mass-produce potions and bottle and sell them, even to Muggles. Until then, I think our business is secure."

"And everyone's so much more aware of the danger now," Lotus nodded. "All those posters and pamphlets from the Ministry…'

"I'd just as soon paper our loo with those things," Mister Tan interrupted. "Comes right down to it, they're not so useful."

"Well, the Ministry has to look like it's doing something, doesn't it?" Mo Tan said. "It's an awkward place they're in."

As Cho spelled herself some fried noodles, she surprised even herself by responding. "Well, they've put themselves in that place. They knew something was up for a year and didn't even admit it."

Lotus looked daggers at her daughter, but Mo Tan simply clucked her tongue as she poured herself some more tea. "Fudge should have gotten out ages ago. Nice fellow and all, but we needed Scrimgeour to get us back on a war footing."

Cho was about to say something else, but she caught the look on her mother's face and simply went back to eating. However, Mo Tan saw all of it.

Cho didn't say anything else that evening until she led the Tans downstairs to let them out. Before she could say anything to them, though, Mo Tan grabbed Cho's hand and pulled her toward the back of the shoppe, away from her husband.

"There's a lot happening now, dearie, and I don't know the whole story yet, but there's something I want to tell you. This is it: you can fall in love any number of times in your life. You don't need to listen to all of that one-time-only romance rubbish. I mean, if you're trying to stop yourself from looking around…"

"Excuse me, erm, Mo," Cho interrupted. "If I've stopped looking, it's because I know exactly who I love."

Mo Tan hugged Cho as if she were a long-lost daughter. "Just, well, never cheat yourself out of happiness, Cho. We have little enough of it these days." With that, she let go, turned, and left the shoppe with her husband.

Yes, I know exactly who I love, Cho thought as she walked up the steps. And I used to think he knew as well.

xxx

To be continued in part 4, wherein Cho ponders sending one owl, receives another, and faces the Terrible Twins…