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
10. Horror in Hogsmeade
Cho ate a light lunch after the tryouts, then went up to her dormitory and started trying to fill out the Quidditch roster. It was actually fairly easy; easier than she'd feared, at any event. She still had to replace the Beaters and Keeper, but she thought she'd found some likely prospects among those who could fly while wielding a bat or grabbing a Quaffle.
Keeper first, then. One very obvious candidate jumped out of the pack: a Sixth Year named Kevin Entwhistle. Cho had seen him around Hogwarts, but he'd never impressed her as anything special. Now, however, she had reason to remember him; he'd shot up during his time in Hogwarts and now stood just over six feet tall. He wasn't the most acrobatic flier that day, but he could maneuver a broom with one hand and stop a Quaffle with the other. His hand was large enough, in fact, to clutch the Quaffle in mid-flight. Stopping it the way a Seeker would stop a Snitch. It was surprising that Roger hadn't spotted him sooner; perhaps Entwhistle never wanted to go out for Quidditch, or waited until his O.W.L.s were behind him.
In any event, he had enough raw talent to be listed as a Regular; the Reserve Keeper spot could be filled by someone younger, who would need a year to absorb the fine points of the game. There weren't many choices, but Cho decided to place Sheridan as the Reserve Keeper.
Rowena Sheridan.
Even as she wrote the name on the parchment, Cho felt a thrill go through her hand and up her arm. Not because Sheridan was such a great Keeper –although Cho was sure she would be in time. This was about continuing what Roger and Mackie had started: adding witches to a Ravenclaw team that, for whatever reason, had gone almost a century as an all-male Quidditch team. Cho knew that she'd have to find out the whys and wherefores of it this year, time and N.E.W.T.s permitting.
That reminded her: she wrote down "Sara Anand" as Reserve Seeker. She was sure that Madam Hooch wouldn't put up much of an objection, and that they could both talk to Professor Flitwick if he made an issue about Sara being a First Year. After all, a precedent had been set.
Harry.
She'd thought about him on the train, and every day since they'd been back at Hogwarts, one way or another. She'd even deliberately waited to send her mother's birthday present until the first Saturday morning of the fall term, and waited around in the Owlery that morning for more than two hours, on the off chance that Harry would come up again. But he never did. She finally sent off her package, and walked back to Ravenclaw, at first feeling like the biggest fool in Hogwarts. Then she remembered the chat she's had with Harry last year, and by the time she reached the tapestry she was back to wishing for another chance to see him, to be with him…
Stop that! The Beaters!
The pickings were much slimmer here. Both the Beaters she'd played with for years, Jenkins and Becksnee, were gone now. She'd have to replace them. The simplest would be to move the Reserve Beaters up to Regulars. But the Reserves, Teddy Bufidius and Emil Cargon, weren't much better than the talent she'd seen at tryouts.
Well, she sighed, a touch of experience is better than none at all. Besides, we have until winter and the match with Hufflepuff to sort this out. Maybe I can schedule some extra Beater drills—target practice…
She wrote in Bufidius and Cargon as Regular Beaters, and chose a pair of Third Years, Martin Elna and Clarinda Knogg, as Reserves. Again, Cho felt satisfied in being able to put a witch in position to be a Regular for Ravenclaw, if only in the future.
Cho made copies of the scroll for Madam Hooch and Professor Flitwick, then took the original scroll down to the Common Room to post on the notice board. Sara Anand was already there.
"Captain, you said we'd talk after lunch."
Very bold, Cho thought, and very determined. Just like I was. She pinned the scroll onto the board and turned to Sara. "Well," Cho smiled, "this'll give us something to talk about."
Sara dashed up to the board, read the notice, then turned speechless toward Cho.
"I know you need experience in the game," Cho said, "and if you're willing to learn some of the fine points, I can teach them to you. By this time next year, I'll be graduated and Ravenclaw will need a Seeker again. If you really want to be one, your training will have to start right away. Is that what you want?" Sara nodded happily. "Then show me your schedule, so we can work out a practice time."
Cho tried to sound as businesslike and practical as she could, but she couldn't help but feel excited as she spoke. I'm telling her what Hooch told me, Cho marveled as she watched Sara dash up to her dormitory for a copy of her schedule. Is this what it feels like to be a teacher? Because I like the feeling. Funny that it never occurred to me as a career…
xxx
Things should have repeated themselves for Cho; after all, she had already been six years at Hogwarts. But, this year, it seemed, everything was different.
Classes weren't so very different from the previous year, except that the faculty constantly reminded her of the last thing she needed to be reminded of: her N.E.W.T.s. Some of the work was more advanced, and some of it was pretty much what she expected. Always, though, was the shadow over everything; the shadow of getting a job out in the wizarding world, of life after Hogwarts, of having to prove oneself to the Ministry before one could actually go out and prove oneself.
The teachers weren't so awful, except for the constantly awful Snape and his Potions replacement, Slughorn. Snape seemed indiscriminate in his abuse; even a few Slytherin came in for his withering glares and comments this year. But Cho dreaded Defense Against the Dark Arts for another reason. She seemed to stumble coming out of the box this year: try as she might, even understanding what she was expected to do, even after explaining it to other Ravenclaws and helping them along, she found it impossible to work wandless non-verbal spells. Try as hard as she might, she could make nothing happen. Other lessons went more easily, but she knew that, if she did not master this, her N.E.W.T. in DADA would be a disaster.
Slughorn wasn't mean to her in the abusive way that Snape was; Cho had gotten used to that after all these years. Slughorn was, in a way, worse: while he had his favourites, Cho was not among them. As he had on her first day with him, he regarded Cho as some small pile of rubbish that someone was supposed to have picked up. Whether she got the Potions assignments right or wrong seemed completely immaterial.
At the opposite end of the scale was Advanced Care of Magical Creatures, the class in which Cho was the only student. Once a week she went dutifully down to Rubeus Hagrid's hut, although half the time he was absent and the lessons were taught by Professor Grubbly-Plank, a hag who seemed old enough to have taught Rowena Ravenclaw. Still, they both knew what they were doing, even if Hagrid had a very clumsy way of expressing it. She came away each week with pages of notes about wyverns, basilisks, and one week even a shape-shifting tanuki from Japan.
Every evening, she took an hour to share her notes with the other Seventh Years of the Claw Club. It wasn't simply a matter of making copies for the others and letting them sort it out for themselves. Everyone had questions about the others' notes; details needed to be filled in, vague references needed to be clarified.
Cho was surprised to find that one set of her notes was already making the rounds: her explanation of the I Ching method of divination written out back in her Fourth Year, to try to help other Ravenclaws cope with Trelawny's teaching of the subject. More accurately, as Roger Davies had put it, "She's really made a hash of things, and none of us get this moving trigram business at all. Can you give us a hand?" Cho had done more than that, when she realized that her notes were still circulating among those Ravenclaws taking Divination, a subject she'd sworn off after Cedric was killed.
Cho also had what amounted to two Quidditch practices a week. Sunday mornings, the Ravenclaw team would be out practicing plays, testing strategies, getting ready for a season that the entire House seemed to think would bring them back the Cup. Then there were Tuesday afternoons, just before dinner, when Cho and Sara would have the pitch all to themselves for an hour. Cho didn't have a set of lessons here; it was simply speaking with Sara, watching her fly, assigning her a test of her skill on her broom (she was still using a school broom, an old Nimbus model made before Sara was born, and Cho coached her on how to get the maximum speed and control out of it). It made Cho feel good.
It made her feel almost a grown-up.
She juggled schoolwork, Quidditch, writing letters home, writing letters to Penelope Clearwater because now she felt that she could relate to Penelope as an equal, as if they were both grownup witches in the world, even though Cho hadn't quite stepped over that threshold. Not yet.
Saturday afternoons, and the occasional dinner, she'd chat with Michael Corner. She couldn't very well say no, as long as he behaved himself, and, so far, he was behaving himself. They spoke of schoolwork, of students and families of students who'd gone missing or worse; they even alluded once or twice to "the Army" even though Marietta would be sitting nearby—for she had no recollection of Dumbledore's Army or her role in betraying it.
And she juggled thoughts of Harry.
She couldn't help it. Half a hundred times in as many days she wanted to hunt him down, to talk to him about her friendship with Marietta, to say that she understood the wrong that Marietta had done but didn't understand why it had to come between the two of them. Things had gotten off to a rocky start, true, but she and Harry had found happiness with each other for a time; didn't that count for something with him? Because Cho knew that it still did with her.
But, no matter how much she wanted to talk to him, she couldn't find the courage in herself to seek him out. She felt she couldn't take another storm of his contempt. She'd think about it, not shedding a tear but blushing and sighing, usually in one of the lavatories, which amused Moaning Myrtle no end; she'd taken to calling Cho "the blushing bride." Which only made Cho blush all the more profoundly.
Like it or not, and she didn't always like it, she still loved Harry Potter.
xxx
Even though the weather was miserable the Saturday of the first Hogsmeade visit, almost every student who could go seemed anxious to make the trip. Cho was one of those students, in part because she now reserved the autumn Hogsmeade trip as the designated day to do her parents' Christmas shopping. For Cho, surprising her parents was always part of the holiday, and she couldn't hope to surprise them by shopping in Diagon Alley—not when her parents knew all the other Diagon Alley merchants on a first-name basis. And of course there was nothing for her in Knockturn Alley. So Hogsmeade, despite its relatively limited selection, was it. Also, the shops had their own particular charms, from Zonko's to Honeyduke's to the Three Broomsticks.
"Gon' ter take the plunge, Cho?" Jan Nugginbridge asked while they were dressing that morning. The weather was foul, cold and windy and spitting rain. It was nothing Cho couldn't deal with; after all, she'd flown in worse. But this was supposed to be a day for strolling.
"Probably not. I wouldn't try it until after I'd done my shopping, anyway." When Jan said "take the plunge," she meant that they were now of a legal age in the wizarding world, and could order firewhiskey in Hogsmeade.
"Need teh save yer money, then?"
"Need to hang onto my judgment. I've not had much practice at drinking; an occasional nip of wine with the family at home. I can only imagine what I'd think was an appropriate present for my mother after I'd had a firewhiskey."
"Maybe ye'd finally tell her off; give her what she needs teh hear."
"Oh, I, I have no trouble doing that," Cho said, her voice softer.
Jan nodded; she understood mothers and daughters.
By now, their Prefect, Marietta Edgecombe, had finished applying makeup to her face, covering up the horrid acne which spelled out SNEAK. Ironically, Cho noted, the only makeup which worked was developed by two other members of Dumbledore's Army, who despised Marietta for what she'd done: the Weasley twins.
Cho hated the word, but it seemed appropriate so many times, especially now: the ways of fate could be inscrutable.
Cho and Marietta walked side by side down to Hogsmeade, saying nothing, gritting their teeth against the suddenly cold and blustery weather—more like mid-winter than mid-October. Their first thought was to stop into the Three Broomsticks to warm up with a butterbeer, but most of the other students had the same idea; there wasn't a seat to be had. So they made a dash down the lane to Gladrags, where Cho planned to get a gift for her mother. On the way, they had to pass Zonko's novelty shop, which Cho noted was shuttered and apparently abandoned.
"Wonder if anything happened to him?" Marietta asked as they entered Gladrags.
Cho shrugged. "I've heard rumours that the Weasleys are trying to buy up his business, and make it part of their own."
"Whether they are or not, their makeup is the only thing that works on this." Cho understood what her friend meant, and once again cursed Hermione Granger for blighting Marietta's face, and almost cursed Harry for siding with Granger. Almost.
"So, what are we looking for this morning?" the Gladrags saleswitch said, a bit too loudly.
"A winter cloak for my mother," Cho said. "She's about my height, I suppose, or a bit taller."
"Does she need it for warmth or style?"
"A little of both, I think. She already has several cloaks to keep the cold off, but nothing that looks good for social occasions."
"And what about colour?"
"Well, red is always a good choice of colour, but I'm in Ravenclaw, and." Cho left the sentence hanging. The fact is, she was hoping against hope that her parents would actually come to one of her matches this year.
The saleswitch led Cho over to a rack of cloaks. "Let's see what we have here, then."
xxx
An hour later, the two young witches left Dervish and Banges. In addition to the cloak for her mother, Cho had gotten her father a self-calculating abacus, with a guaranteed memory capacity for over a million calculations. Since the weather had gotten no better, they made a dash back to the Three Broomsticks. This time, they found spaces at the bar.
"You really think he'll like that?" Marietta was asking about the abacus. "Seems to me he wouldn't trust a machine to do his calculating for him."
"Oh, but he's always been very keen on modern technology as well as tradition. He can use it as a ledger book; it can remember who bought what and when."
Marietta sighed. "I never know what to get my mother, except yet another book. She spends all her time at the Network these days."
"Can't they hire her an assistant?"
"You'd think they would, but no. Apparently Scrimgeour's hands are tied on this one: no new expenditures without permission from the Hexchecker or something." Marietta took a drink, staring straight ahead. "Not as if she likes being home, whether I'm there or not."
Cho took a sip of butterbeer, embarrassed. No matter how much she fought with her mother—and sometimes their screaming matches lasted for days—she never doubted her mother's concern and love. Things were very different between Marietta and Madam Edgecombe; Marietta's mother could be as cold as the awful weather howling through the streets of Hogsmeade.
Then Cho heard another sound from outside: the cracking sound of someone Disapparating. Shortly after that was a yell: "Come back you thieving—"
Harry.
"Let's go," Cho said, grabbing Marietta by the hand and nearly dragging her to the rear entrance of the pub, leaving two half-finished butterbeers on the bar.
Once they were outside, Marietta pulled her hand out of Cho's grasp. "You didn't have to do that," she said, loud enough to be heard over the wind but not much louder. "I recognized the voice, too."
The two of them started walking back to Hogwarts, Cho's cheeks blushing like a hearth, and not from the wind.
"Look, Cho, I'm hardly one to talk, but you really should say something to the boy. Maybe he's willing to give you another chance."
"If only that were true," Cho said. She would have sighed if they were indoors, but the wind and the cold didn't permit that. "I saw that look he gave us on the train."
"Well, that isn't always a permanent thing. Besides, I haven't seen him with any other girl this year." Marietta kept walking, and deliberately didn't look at Cho when she asked, "So how did you two get on last year?"
"I, well, didn't I tell you?"
"Not really, so tell me now. Did you two brew up any memories?"
"Well," Cho started, then gave a small smile. "Not as many as I'd have liked."
"There, you see?" Marietta seemed triumphant, as if she'd been the one dating Harry Potter. "You've got something to build on!"
Cho quickened her pace. "It's more, well, complicated than that."
Their conversation was interrupted by a terrible scream. They both turned to look behind them, then gave a gasp. They saw a witch screaming in terror, floating six feet off the ground. A couple of other students were grabbing at her ankles, trying to pull her down.
"Gods," Cho said barely above a whisper, "it's Katie!"
"You know her?"
"Katie Bell. She's a Chaser for Gryffindor." Cho looked around over the barren landscape, half-expecting to see Death Eaters keeping Katie afloat as she'd seen them at the World Quidditch Cup.
"That tears it," Marietta said. "Let's get back—right now!" The two witches rushed back to the gates, up the stone steps and into the castle.
They staggered, panting, into the Great Hall and sat at the end of the Ravenclaw table.
"Almost time for lunch, anyway," Marietta half-smiled. Cho glanced out at the entryway, where Professor McGonagall and Filch were rushing to the entrance.
"What was all that?" Cho asked.
"I'm sure we'll find out by sunset. You know how rumours are in this place."
"Let me take these up, then," Cho said, taking her parcels. "Back in a few."
By the time she went through the tapestry (using the password "intracostal"), touched her copy of Confucius, dashed up to the dorm, dropped her bundles on the bed, and returned to the Great Hall, the tables were half-full and Marietta had already started eating. Either the other students didn't know what had happened yet or they were trying to act as if things were normal. And, for Cho, they were at least a bit normal, because she couldn't suppress the thought: will Katie Bell be able to play the first match?
xxx
To be continued in part 11, wherein Hogwarts' first Quidditch match, and Cho's last season, gets underway.