Chapter 28: Flying Snow Overdrive
Like a river overflowing its banks, excitement for the championship Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw had swallowed the school. Banners and pennants bearing the colours of the competing Houses sprouted like wildflowers after a summer rain throughout the school, from the peaks of the towers to the dank recesses of the Slytherin dungeons. In the preceding weeks, Ron and Harry had trained the Gryffindors until they collapsed, eager to defeat the highly-experienced and –trained Ravenclaws. It would be the most difficult match any of them had ever faced, made all the more so by the Firebolt Cho possessed, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Ron. "Mate, couldn't you have waited to give her the broom after the final game? I know she's your girlfriend and all, but what about the Cup? If we end up losing…"
"We won't, Ron, I promise," Harry had told him, as much to boost the Keeper's confidence as his own. For Cho was not a broken shell of herself, lost in grief and easily distracted, but instead a proud and determined young woman whose Quidditch skills had significantly increased in the past year. After the torturous practices that would make Oliver Wood weep, there was little they could do now, save for play.
The day of the match dawned, and the two Quidditch teams moved onto the Pitch, accompanied by the cheers and shouts of the student body, while the flags and symbols of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor flew in equal numbers amongst the crowd. "Bugger, Hogwart's is really into it today," Ron said. "You ready, Harry?"
"Of course," the Seeker replied, stretching in preparation for the chase. "How's the rest of the team?"
"They're fine," Ron answered. "I had to give them a heroic speech, but they're all set and ready." He turned his attention to the incoming Ravenclaw team. "Hey, Chang! I brought your boyfriend here, just in case you needed comforting after you lose."
The jibe was good-natured and friendly, and Cho took up the torch in earnest. "Hey, Weasley! Sorry I didn't hear that, but the lads and I were too engrossed in listening to that song of yours. We were at the verse where you 'let in everything'. Not the best omen for the game, is it?" The beautiful Quidditch Captain was all smiles as she reached the center with her team, sapphire robes blazing bright in the spring sun, brooms polished to a mirror-shine, looking for all the world like a professional Quidditch unit, disciplined and well-trained. "Sorry we're a bit tardy, I was in bed, enjoying the thought of an easy victory," she said, a butterfly sigil sewn into the chest of her robes, while the royal-blue cloak bore the emblem of a great swan. "Shall we get on with this, Captain Weasley?"
"Yeah, Captain Chang, Harry's getting a bit anxious for the Snitch."
Cho raised an eyebrow. "Is he? Well, Harry is going to have to learn that ladies go first."
"I've never been one for tradition, Cho," Harry said, nodding to her. "Good luck to you."
"And you, Harry," his lover answered, bringing her Firebolt to her side. It was unlike any meeting with the opposing team Harry had ever experienced; the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws jested good-heartedly with each other, and more than one player shook the hands of their challengers and wished them luck. Mounting his broom, Harry glanced over the girl offering her teammates a few more suggestions. Meeting her eyes, Harry gave Cho an almost unperceivable nod, a sign of respect from one Seeker to another. I love you, he mouthed to the beautiful Ravenclaw, watching with joy as she mouthed the words back before slapping down the pilot's goggles. Yes, they would compete with each other until their fingers were worn down to the bone, they would not hesitate to achieve victory, would never throw a game, and would love each other all the same.
Hooch's whistle shrieked sharply, and the crowd exploded with excitement as the players soared from the Pitch like eagles, taking the skies the moment the signal was given with machinelike precision and intensity. As the Chasers pounced on the Quaffle in a wild scrum, the Seekers immediately pursued the Snitch, not content merely to hover over the stadium and let the prize come to them. Harry kicked his broom into high gear, seeing Cho enter into an aggressive search pattern, darting around the Pitch. Replicating her strategy, the Gryffindor went in the opposite direction, hoping to take advantage of airspace his opponent had thus far ignored. The Ravenclaw fans erupted as their Chasers scored the first goal, and Harry faintly heard Ron curse in the background. If he had any expectations that this game would go smoothly, this most recent omen served to dash those hopes.
About a dozen feet below the Seekers, the Chasers engaged in their own private little war, the speed and energy of the younger Gryffindor line countered by the more experienced and steadfast Ravenclaws, and something of an aerial stalemate began to emerge. Every pass was intercepted, every stratagem was identified and countered, and should one team manage to bypass the enemy Keeper to score a goal, the opposition quickly rallied and retaliated, leaving the score at a dead heat. The Beaters were certainly of little help here, blocking each other at every opportunity and preventing them from aiding the Chasers. Harry put all this out of his mind; the Snitch was his only priority, and as a cheer sounded from the other end of the Pitch, he pulled the Firebolt into a hard turn and raced towards it, as Cho Chang was hot on the Snitch's tail. Bringing the broom's legendary acceleration to bear, the Gryffindor Seeker streaked towards her, trying to anticipate the best point at which to intercept the Snitch, made all the more difficult due to the fact that the golden orb was unusually quick and agile this game.
Fifty metres from the Snitch, and the two Seekers were on a collision course, the Snitch between them, and neither showed any signs of stopping. Harry could even see Cho's lips turn up in a proud smile as she lay flat on her broom, cutting down on the wind resistance and letting her nudge ahead. From the Announcer's Booth, Dean Thomas's voice captured the intensity of the moment. "It's a game of chicken between the Seekers, and the Snitch is the prize! Man, these two are going at it! It's down to the wire h- the Snitch banks right! Potter and Chang go after it…see the excellent handling of the Firebolt in action here as they make the turn! Now the Snitch is heading for the centre of the Pitch, Chang and Potter in hot pursuit- BLUDGERS COMING IN!"
Harry lay flat on the Firebolt, twisting to the side as a Bludger rocketed past, scraping over his back. Recovering quickly, he cursed as the Snitch disappeared from his sight, the manic chase disrupted by the hands of fate or the Beaters, he couldn't tell which. Alongside him, Cho banked to the right, gaining altitude in hopes of tracking the Snitch again. Wiping his sweat-covered brow with a leather greave, Harry decided to change tactics. Cutting forward speed, the Gryffindor Seeker let himself drop into a Wronski Feint, spiralling towards the earth in an almost uncontrollable dive, whispering to Merlin to let Cho take the bait. The crowd held its collective breath, and Dean proclaimed from the booth in a trumpeting voice that Harry had seen the Snitch. The audience bought it.
Cho, unfortunately, was made of cannier stuff than that, and continued on her hunt as if nothing had happened. Shaking his head, yet grinning at his lover's excellent sense of Quidditch tactics, Harry pulled up ten feet from the ground, the broom groaning from the stress of the sudden manoeuvre. Another goal by the Gryffindor Chasers put them ahead 70-60, but the Ravenclaw Keeper, a sixth-year girl as tenacious and skilful as Ron, wasn't making it easy for them. With the Snitch nowhere in sight, Harry took the opportunity to aid the Chaser line for a few moments, buzzing the Ravenclaws and disrupting their plays, allowing Gryffindor to score two additional goals before he returned to his search.
A golden flash twinkled in the corner of Harry's eye: the Snitch, fluttering near ground level beside the boards. Taking care not to alert the still-searching Cho, Harry continued with his own search pattern for a few moments, before rapidly changing direction and pursuing the orb, hoping that his feint brought him a few precious seconds. The Snitch dodged and weaved with an intensity never before seen, yet Harry stayed on it like a bloodhound after a fox, trying to anticipate and pre-empt its almost random flight path. Cho soared in with lightning speed, and Harry jerked his broom in front of her, cutting her off. "Ready to give up?"
The Ravenclaw Seeker laughed, deftly manoeuvring around Harry to put herself neck and neck. "I was going to ask you the same!" The Snitch suddenly jumped ahead, and they pursued, pushing their brooms to ever increasing speeds, racing inside the boards in great circular laps, over and over again. It became a test of acceleration, the two Seekers pushing themselves and their equipment to their limits, until the stands and spectators became a colourful blur around them. Harry mentally kicked himself for not wearing goggles like Cho; at the speeds they were travelling, a bug could take his eye out easily and end a promising Quidditch career. Dropping several feet to avoid a Bludger before gaining altitude once more, he began to shift his body weight around to quicken his turns, as the Snitch zig-zagged and manoeuvred swiftly around the Pitch, while Cho instead tried to anticipate its next move. The golden walnut suddenly stopped and reversed direction, causing the Seekers to overtake it; Harry immediately cut his forward speed, his greater experience with the Firebolt letting him respond quicker. Cho recovered swiftly and was soon on his tail, the aerial ballet intensifying even as the skies turned dark and a faint rumble could be heard on the horizon.
Unable to shake its pursuers, the Snitch climbed, rising above the towers lining the stands, rising until the Pitch itself began to shrink from view, and yet Harry and Cho followed, even as their brooms began flying at ever steeper angles. The first raindrops began lashing down at them, threatening to drag them off, then abruptly as the Snitch had climbed, it dove back to the earth again. Harry turned sharply to follow, but the broom was too slow, the Snitch now too distant, and once he lost sight of the orb, the process would begin again.
Then Cho dove. Not dove, rather, but fell, letting the broom drop powerless and somersaulting off, leaving nothing beneath her but the rapidly-approaching ground. Horrified screams sounded as both girl and broom plummeted towards the earth, and Harry abandoned the pursuit of the Snitch to intercept her, noticing how her eyes remained closed, as if in meditation. Please don't let her die, please don't let her die…
Chocolate-brown orbs snapped open, and a lithe arm reached out, seizing the Firebolt from the air and bringing it to support the girl's weight, straws humming as it returned to life. Cho spun uncontrollably for a few seconds, then yanked up hard on the head of the broom and stopped the fall. Within half an instant, before Harry had any chance to react, the Ravenclaw Seeker was rocketing towards the Top Box, fishtailing before she crashed into the teachers, left arm extended. Leather-bound fingers closed, and the Ravenclaw stands erupted in jubilation, as Cho Chang pumped a fist into the air, the polished shell of the Golden Snitch bright even in the pouring rain.
Six figures in sodden blue cloaks whirled around her as she landed, slapping her on the back, while the Ravenclaws reached a new fever pitch as Dean announced the final score, 240-100 Ravenclaw. Harry heard himself cheer in amazement at his lover's skill. "Unbelievable!" he crowed. "Merlin's beard, how did she do that? That was incredible!"
Behind him, Ron cursed. "So much for winning the Cup again this year. McGonagall's going to be upset tonight, that's for certain, not to mention Ginny!"
"We've had our glory, and now its Cho's turn. Besides, you and the rest of the team played well. If anyone's to blame for us losing, it's me."
"Better her than Malfoy, at any rate. And I was right, you shouldn't have given her that Firebolt!"
The two friends laughed, and joined the rest of the team in congratulating Cho as the Quidditch Cup was hoisted over her head, rain and tears of joy flowing down her face. The disgrace of defeat she had experienced last year had been erased, and her beautiful features lit up in a way Harry hadn't seen for a while. Enjoy it, love. You've definitely earned it. Corner began talking about a big party in Ravenclaw Tower, but from the look in her eyes, it was clear she would be elsewhere. Wrapping her arms around Harry, she asked, "Now then about that bet…"
From beyond the Infernal Gate, Kharaidon smiled, evidently pleased with the gains of his servant. "You have done well, Voldemort of the Death Eaters," the Dark God said, its voice pleasant and seductive in spite of the daemonlord's hideous form. "It pleases me to see that you have fulfilled the oath as promised. Are you and yours prepared for the world that lies ahead?"
"Yes," Voldemort hissed, humbling himself before the daemonlord, still bleeding profusely from the ritual sigils carved into his flesh. "Step forth into my reality, Kharaidon, and cleanse the world of all its imperfections! Show us the glory that is Chaos, and grant me the power promised!"
The honour guard of lesser daemons standing on either side of the portal let out barbarian howls of triumph, and Kharaidon stepped forward, right hand reaching out in anticipation for his glorious passage. Voldemort felt a swell of triumph in his black heart, and paused for the rush of power that would come with Kharaidon's entry, the magicks of Chaos that would elevate him to godhood.
Yet the daemonlord did not cross, could not cross, and remained trapped within the Realm of Chaos despite the open Infernal Gate. The God of War strained and pressed against the event horizon, sending ripples surging along the portal, but the dimensional membrane held. The daemonic honour guard snarled in dismay, drawing huge battle-axes and pikes from their flesh, while the Chaos Stones began to hiss and whine under the strain. After a few minutes of exertion, Kharaidon ceased his attempts to enter Earth, staring down at Voldemort with all the cruelty and anger he possessed. "This portal is…insufficient to transport the entirety of my majestic form." Waves of hatred radiated from the portal, and many of the Death Eaters cried out in pain, shrinking back from the Infernal Gate. "And the ritual is yet incompleted, one piece of your soul has not yet been returned to you. You promised me that a stable portal could be formed, that I would taste of this world's air and feast of this world's life once more. And you have failed me, Voldemort."
"No, my lord, please!" Voldemort cried, nearly begging now, black blood running down his face. "I can still fuel the portal!"
"Another desperate, foolish ploy by another pathetic insect attempting to win the favour of Chaos," the daemonlord replied. "Since you cannot guarantee my passage, your existence has become as insignificant and without purpose as any other. The power you desire will forevermore lie out of your reach, Voldemort, and you will be claimed by death as is the fate of all mortals."
"No!" Riddle screamed. "I beg you, Kharaidon, don't leave me! There is another way! The doorway can be sustained enough to grant your entrance, but I need more time!"
Daemons snarled and readied themselves for the charge, but Kharaidon motioned them back with a wave of his hideous talons. "Speak, and I shall judge."
Immensely grateful for this temporary reprieve, Voldemort gladly took it, rising up to look the daemonlord in the eye. "The ritual works, my lord, I have proven it. The Stones are intact and I possess the skill and the power needed to open the gate. All that remains is the power source. I know of a place where magic flows freely, where the arcane energies that can be tapped and wielded to fuel the Infernal Gate are ten, a hundred times greater than this! And my armies are strong, Kharaidon. This location can be seized and secured long enough for the Stones to be assembled, the portal created, and Earth delivered to you."
Kharaidon was silent, affixing Voldemort with its hellish stare. "You failed me today, Voldemort. How can I know that you will not fail again?"
"Earth can be yours, Kharaidon! Its magicks drained, its life consumed, all empowering you even further to exceed the strength of your brothers! Both Earth and the Realm of Chaos will bow down before you, but if you will only trust my judgement and my power. Look within my mind, Lord Kharaidon. See my plan unfold, and judge for yourself."
The daemonlord's gaze only seemed to grow more intense, and Voldemort hissed in pain as Kharaidon entered his mind. Everything was silent for a moment, both daemons and Death Eaters as silent as statues.
And then Kharaidon laughed, harsh, booming and terrifying. "You can make this happen?" it asked, flames curling up the corners of its mouth. "You can bring it about?"
"Yes," Voldemort said. "They are as much my enemies are they are yours, and the energies of the place will be perfect for fuelling the Infernal Gate. And, there are plenty of potential sacrifices to ignite the spellwork. I will redeem myself, Kharaidon. I will bring you to this world."
"Magnificent. Such destruction that will result, such pain that will be born from this scheme. Yes, perhaps you are of some value after all. Very well, Voldemort. You have earned yourself a respite, but the torments that you shall endure if you fail again will be many-fold in return for your previous infraction."
Voldemort bowed. "Thank you, Lord Kharaidon."
"And now, a small token of my appreciation."
"My lord-"
Kharaidon's eyes blazed and the portal rippled ominously, even as warpfire gathered in its right hand. "No. I insist!"
Warpfire exploded outward from the daemonlord's outstretched hand, slamming into the event horizon with an avalanche's force, pushing and straining against the portal before piercing the membrane. As the Infernal Gate sealed with a monstrous crack and the Chaos Stones went dark, the fragment of daemonic energy homed in on Voldemort, circling around him like twisting adders before lunging and swallowing the Dark Lord into a burst of purple flame.
Voldemort screamed as the fires stroked his flesh with its agonizing touch, entering him through every wound and orifice. The ritual markings glowed bright onto his flesh, drawing in the magic, permeating every cell and fibre of his body, reshaping him, transforming him. From both the reviewing stand and the pit below, the Death Eaters watched in horror as their master was dragged up by unseen hands, breaking and twisting him, until the fire burst from every pore and consumed him.
Silence fell over Hell Pit, broken only by the most terrified whispers of Bellatrix Lestrange. "Master…"
Ash fell and split from his body, and Voldemort arose, emerging from the fire like a newborn bird from its shell. The Dark Lord paused to admire his new form, his satisfaction growing with each moment that passed. While his previous body had been emaciated and skeletal, this form was strong and humming with strength. Vitality surged through his limbs and great muscles had been sculpted into glowing, healthy flesh, even as dark hair sprouted from the top of his skull. His former form had been horrifying to gaze upon, but this new body possessed a terrible, inhuman beauty to it, marred only by the numerous Chaos runes left as black scars on his skin. The unholy sigils seemed to grant Voldemort new strength and endurance, and the Dark Lord imagined himself punching through the solid rock of Hell Pit with his fists or seeing enemy swords harmlessly deflect off his body. "Marvellous…" he whispered, clenching a fist and watching with glee as the warpfire of Chaos burst forth effortlessly. Chaos had torn him down and rebuilt him, making him stronger than ever, particularly in his mastery of spellcasting, thanks to the pure Dark Magic thrumming through his veins. And to think that it nearly failed…
"Robes," he commanded in a thick, rich tenor. "And bring me Rookwood. I'd like to test something."
As Bellatrix Lestrange placed a jet-black robe over her Lord's body with a look of adoration, Asmodeus brought Rookwood forward, the traitorous Unspeakable grovelling before his master. "You failed me tonight, Rookwood," Voldemort said, speaking with a terrifying calm. "I was under the impression that the portal would sustain Kharaidon's complete entrance, not merely a portion of his power. And as much as I am grateful for the gift granted to me, it is far less than I expected, particularly given your promises you gave to me."
Rookwood pleaded at his Master's feet. "My Lord, there was simply not enough power to sustain the portal, that is all! My calculations were perfect and the ritual was without flaws! As you said, it was simply a question of power, and by all accounts, you have a most magnificent plan in mind…"
"What of your notes, Rookwood? Do you still possess them?"
"Yes, my Lord, they are kept in a safe place. If you want me to review my calculations with you-"
"No, I was simply determining whether your presence amongst the Inner Circle is worth keeping, and since your work can be replicated, the answer is no." The Dark Lord raised a hand. "Avada Kedavra."
Rookwood barely had time to scream before the Killing Curse stuck him, dying swiftly before Asmodeus booted his lifeless body from the reviewing stand into the pit below. "Most interesting," Voldemort exclaimed, so engrossed with his new powers that the looks of his followers went unnoticed. "Wandless magic, without any effort. Truly the Dark Gods of Chaos are mighty in all things."
"But it requires a powerful wizard to wield their magicks, my Lord," Asmodeus said, scornfully gazing down upon Rookwood's broken corpse. "Magic means nothing without the might of will to control and use it well, as you taught me."
"And you have learned your lessons well." Voldemort paused to consider his wand, half-buried in a pile of soot and ash. "Destroy that primitive thing, Asmodeus, and make sure no trace remains. It appears I no longer have need of it."
As his lieutenant moved to do his master's bidding, Voldemort turned to address his legions, the failure of the ritual set aside in the minds of all. "My faithful! You have seen the power of the Dark Gods, witnessed what they can accomplish, and now with their aid well in hand, our victory cannot be stopped! Beyond these walls lies a world of decadence, of perversion, where the pure and noble blood of our people is ravaged and corrupted by the filth of the Muggles and their allies! It is a world where blood treason is the common currency, and the grand culture and traditions of Wizardingkind are discarded and cast aside for mongrel ideas of tolerance. They may have taken the rest of our people into their disgusting fold, but we remain free of their lies! With Chaos at our beck and call, and with the strong hearts of men like you, we will eradicate the Muggle disease from this world, and create a new Eden, one free of their kind. Will you serve me? Will you follow me through fire and death? Do so, and there will be a place for you in this paradise, where all your dreams will become reality. What say you?"
"For Lord Voldemort," Asmodeus breathed, inciting others to join him. "For the Dark Lord and the Grand Crusade! Death to the mudbloods!"
"Death!" came their rallying cry, a thousand angry voices cheering on the Dark Lord's madness.
"Then go forth! In one night's time, we shall claim the greatest prize in the Wizarding World, and reach the gates of Paradise! And the world will be swept clean by the purging fires of Chaos. Prepare yourselves for ascension."
The hordes bellowed Voldemort's name, a thought that pleased the Dark Lord. In truth, the ritual could have gone disastrously; it was only due to a hastily-conceived backup plan and by allowing Kharaidon to peer inside his mind that catastrophe was averted and his agenda preserved. Yet Lord Voldemort was not foolish, for while he had allowed the daemonlord to examine many of his thoughts, other areas of his mind still remained closed off, sealed to the influence of Chaos, while he had temporarily walled off his connection to the Potter boy. He would not jeopardize his plans at this stage, not when he was so close! Soon, his enemies would lie dead before him, the power of a god would be his, and he would lord over a new world in which all life called him master. Bearing a small, vicious smile, the Dark Lord retreated back to his chambers, ignoring the ranks of Death Eaters that scurried away in his wake. Much had been done, yet still much remained, and he had to prepare.
The rain pelted down upon the tent, rapping furiously against the canvas, but for all the storm's fury, the interior was left safe and dry, perfect for the two lovers who nestled together on the futon. While the rest of the school marked the evening with celebration and riotous noise, Harry and Cho slipped away through the numerous secret passageways and corridors that honeycombed the castle, and made for the tent he had prepared beforehand. "Both my tower and yours will be madhouses tonight," the Gryffindor explained, draping his coat over the raven-locked girl to shield her from the pounding rain. "And it'll be the last time I see you for a while, and it's your birthday tomorrow, so I want to make it special."
"Where did you find this?" Cho had asked, noting with pleasure that the tent was a magical one, enchanted to offer greater space than its physical framework permitted, rather than a crude Muggle model.
"I called in that favour with Fred and George. The tent isn't worth a thousand Galleons, I think, but considering how priceless you are, it's a bargain."
Cho positively beamed at the compliment, and Harry took the opportunity to slide in behind her, callused hands massaging her sides through the silk blouse. "But tell me, Cho," he whispered into her ear, drawing an aroused gasp. "Where exactly did you learn that manoeuvre?"
"Impressed?"
"Absolutely! To be honest, it was the most brilliant bit of flying I've seen! I admit, I was worried about you for a second, but you pulled it off. Was it something you learned from a Quidditch playbook, something you made up yourself?"
"I conceived it about a night before the match. I knew that since we were both on Firebolts, the Snitch would be adjusted to provide more of a challenge. And you're arguably the school's best Seeker, so I needed a way to improve my odds when things went bad." The beautiful Ravenclaw gave a mischievous, sultry smile, pushing him down onto the futon, straddling him. "So yes, it was something I improvised, but I never managed to test it out in practice sessions, so that was the first time."
"Brilliant," Harry whispered. "Bloody brilliant. You definitely earned the Quidditch Cup, and no mistake. You've come a long way, Cho, you should be proud." He meant it; Cho had matured and grown a great deal emotionally since their training had begun, emerging from the chrysalis of grief and self-doubt to become someone even greater, her skills and abilities finally given a chance to shin now that the clouds had parted. "What about your parents? I'd think that they'd be pleased with you winning."
Cho sighed, eyes falling into misery. "I'm afraid not. Apparently, it isn't proper for a lady to be playing such a rough sport, and they consider it to be a frivolous waste of time regardless. They think I should spend more time on my studies, to improve my marks." The girl shrugged. "My marks are already great, and my parents couldn't care less about what I was studying, just so long as I accomplish things they can show off. My goal of becoming a Healer means nothing to them, and in fact they would prefer something more…domestic."
"That's why they want you to marry Zhang."
"My family is pureblood, Harry, and while they're not blood supremacists like the Malfoys or their ilk, they still remain rooted in many traditions held by pureblood wizards. First and foremost, arranged marriages are central to much of pureblood society; with so many families possessing a great deal of money, and with a family's good name to preserve, any and all marriages are usually either suggested by the parents or demanded by them. It helps keep fortunes intact, status preserved, and it helps forge the political alliances that high-status purebloods relish, mine included. My parents would never let me wed someone they didn't propose. Zhang's the top choice, but he's one of many they would consider to be a suitable match for me. If not him, then another." Cho let out an exasperated sigh.
Harry paused to consider this, running a hand through her silky hair. "No offense, but your parents sound like horrible people."
"They're not horrible!" Cho snapped, somewhat angry at the accusation. "They're just…small-minded, that's all. Harry, my parents love me, they genuinely do, but the way they express this love isn't always in my best interests. My love, I am not abused by them. I have enough to eat, I live in a wonderful house, I wear good clothes and I have a small library full of knowledge from around the world. These are all good things, and they see giving me to a husband of their choice as just one of them. They can be cold and condescending, that is true, but they truly believe that marrying me to Zhang is the right thing to do!"
"But they must think about your feelings as well!"
"Of course they should! But, as I said, they are small-minded at times. My opposition to this marriage, the course of the war, the fates of the poor or less-fortunate, anything; if it does not correspond to their worldview, then it is shunned and ignored. My father cares not for the war, or what will happen if Voldemort wins. He's too concerned with managing the businesses, considering profits and losses in Galleons, not lives. As for my mother…" Cho looked positively downcast when she came to this. "As for my mother, she is a great bird that has, for too long, remained locked in her cage, and now accepts the bars and locks as the only existence she has. She is a woman of high society, not science, homemaking rather than magic, and the person she's become…" She paused again, tears filling her eyes. "I can't be like that. I won't, and it's high time they recognized it."
Harry felt pity for the beautiful young woman grasp his heart. Here she was, talented, intelligent, powerful and compassionate, yet those closest to her couldn't see it, and for all those who marvelled her beauty, they often forgot that fact. "Are you certain you don't want me to come with you tomorrow? I can afford to miss a day's worth of classes if it means being a help to you."
Cho shook her head. "Please, Harry, I told you before; I need to do this alone. I appreciate your support, I really do, but this is my fight and I need to win it myself. It's…" Her voice trailed off here, becoming a bare whisper. "I need to prove to myself that I'm strong."
"But you are," Harry exclaimed, grasping her by the shoulders. "Cho, every day you prove that you're a strong woman. No one who faced the things you have and survived could ever be considered weak."
"A strong woman wouldn't have broken down in the face of her grief as I did last year. A strong woman wouldn't let the barbs of those she once considered friends to hurt her, or tremble in fear at the thought of facing down her parents." She sighed, thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of her nose as if to dispel a headache. "I don't know Harry, sometimes I just feel so weak, so pathetic, too fragile to be of any use to anyone, and I have to remind myself every damn day that I'm capable of doing great things. Maybe it's just stress, but I need to do this by myself, to prove that I'm strong, that I'm able to stand up on my own feet. Please, if you love me, you'll let me do this."
Harry considered her words for a moment, then nodded. Personally, he felt that she was being too critical, but he understood the need to prove her strength, even if only for herself. "Okay then. If you're certain you have to do this alone, I won't stand in your way. But," he emphasised, kissing her lips softly. "Just remember, Cho, it's okay to have these feelings; you can't be made of iron twenty-four hours a day. And no matter what, you have never let them interfere with achieving your goals, whether it was getting good marks or working with the Army or fighting the Death Eaters. No one in their right mind blames you for weeping over Cedric; I did last year, but that's because I was an insensitive clod and an idiot. You grieved because you loved him, didn't you?"
Cho looked up, chocolate-brown eyes becoming tinged with sorrow. "I still do," she said, wrapping her arms around Harry and burying her face in the crook of his neck. "Cedric was a wonderful man, Harry, and while the grief has faded and the pain has disappeared, a part of my heart will always remain with him." The Ravenclaw smiled wistfully, as if reminiscing on what might have been. "Did I ever tell you that Cedric proposed to me?"
It took a moment for Harry's shock to fade. "Sweet Merlin, Cho, you should have told me!" he answered, grasping her tightly. No wonder she cried over him, he thought to himself, stroking her hair in a comforting gesture. "When did this happen?"
"Right before the Third Task. He took me out onto the grounds the night before, and we just lay there in each other's arms watching the stars go past." The lovely girl blushed as she recounted the following events. "I was young and foolish back then, and wanted to make love to him but he refused. He wanted to save himself for marriage, and proposed to me right then and there."
"And? What did you say?"
"I refused him, Harry. I simply wasn't ready for that kind of commitment then, and I wouldn't consider myself ready for it now, even with you. But he took it in stride and told me he'd wait. Our relationship wasn't too popular with our parents; mine, as you can guess, weren't happy about me finding love with someone they didn't choose, and Cedric's parents were less than thrilled with having a Chinese girl dating their son. Amos in particular was rather cruel to me, and he missed no opportunity to deride my heritage."
"Bastard." The word burst forth from Harry's lips, recalling the pity he had felt for the man upon his death at Azkaban, and he burned with shame to consider how he might have felt sorry for Amos. Turning back to the more important matter, he said, "I'm sorry, Cho, I had no idea that you and Cedric had gotten so close. I know you loved each other, but marriage..."
"Puts a whole different spin on things, doesn't it?" she asked, pressing up against him, the feel of her full breasts filling him with desire. Moist lips laid oh-so-gentle kisses on the length of his neck, teasing and tormenting the Gryffindor, putting him into a growing state of euphoria. "You're not angry with me?"
Harry kissed her, cradling the smooth oval of her face in his hands. "No, I'm not. I just wish that you'd told me sooner. Maybe I could have helped you?"
"Like with my parents, it was my fight to face. Let's face it, at the time, I was too caught up in my own troubles to explain it to myself, let alone anyone else. I just…didn't want to burden you any further."
"But you're not a burden, Cho, not in the least. Hell, sometimes, I feel like I'm dragging you down rather than the other way, After all, you're a brilliant young woman who can play a great game of Quidditch and write essays on the laws of Transfiguration and the histories of past Dark Lords, while I'm just a arrogant kid who can't even consider things beyond the moment. For you, the future is something to be taken hold of, to be shaped in your image, while I have no idea what to do after the war is won. I thought about becoming an Auror or going professional with Quidditch, but to be honest, the only thing I want in my life is to be with you. Anything else, a job or achievement, wouldn't be worthwhile unless you were there to share it with."
"Harry…"
"Let me speak," Harry continued, placing a finger over her full lips. "You made me so much more than I used to be, forgave me when I couldn't even forgive myself. If I had to choose between the world and you, then the world would have to find itself a new saviour. For without you, this life is nothing, and all the wonders of the Wizarding World are cheap parlour tricks. When I said I loved you, I really meant it, Cho. That won't change, no matter what happens or what distances separate us. So let Zhang come. If Death Eaters and friends couldn't destroy what we've made together, he certainly won't."
Rosy warmth flooded Cho's cheeks, and Harry felt his heart skip a beat as she smiled, joyous and contented. She was here, and she loved him, and she was so warm and so willing…They kissed furiously, drinking of their affection as a man dying of thirst might sup at the water of a oasis. Words were no longer necessary. Proclamations of love and desire were surplus to requirements. All that mattered was the feel of hand and lips against breast, the rejection of silk and cotton for cool air and flesh, embracing the ultimate expression of their love with a fanatic's zeal. Harry laid the young woman down beneath him, ripping away her blouse to expose her blue silk bra, heedless of the buttons that flew like shrapnel. Loving kisses teased his nipples and chest, causing him to groan, kneading her breasts with gentle hands, while she removed his belt and began enticing his growing arousal. The noise he made drew a smile from the polymath. "Enjoying yourself?" she asked, paying extra attention to the spot. Harry clumsily kicked away his jeans as they were pulled down, and Cho had to stifle a giggle at her lover's enthusiasm. "Patience, my love. I'm not going to fade away before your eyes."
"Sorry," Harry replied in a small whisper, kissing her. A hand caressed her thigh, snaking its way up and down the muscled leg, much to the young woman's delight. By this point, Harry and Cho had experienced the act of lovemaking many times, enough to familiarize themselves with each sensitive area and point of arousal on each other's bodies. Even so, each pleasured moan or sigh was treasured, each gasp cherished, particularly this night. Cho would be away for Merlin knew how long, and while she wanted to return to the castle with all haste, these things had a habit of spinning out of control. Time to make her feel like a goddess, Harry instructed himself, deftly reaching for the clasp of her bra. Green eyes sparkled with desire as her perfect round breasts were exposed to his sight, hardening under the cold night air. "Tell me what you want," he gently pressed her, kissing and nibbling her breasts, slowly bringing her to the heights of bliss. Cho threw her head back and moaned as he continued to lavish attention on her upper body, her hands gripping the tangled mop of his hair, hips squeezing his sides. The warmth displayed in her chocolate-brown eyes only encouraged him, and Cho screamed in pleasure as his hot breath enveloped a nipple. "Tell me."
Cho drove her lips against his; kissing him so ferociously she drew blood. Frantic hands unbuckled her belt and removed her own jeans, the kiss never breaking, more of her luscious body revealed before wanting eyes. The beautiful Ravenclaw was a landscape of curves; the gentle hills and slopes of her muscles, the high peaks of her orb-like breasts, the valley of her stomach and groin, all completed by the thick dark forest of her hair that lay shimmering against her smooth, exotic skin. "You, Harry. I need you," she gasped, baring her arched neck and smooth collarbone to his kisses. Tenderly, they removed the last articles of clothing, leaving them naked on the futon and enjoying the warmth of their bodies, the tantalizing taste of their kisses, the pleasure of bare flesh locked in their embrace. They continued like this for some time, their caresses bringing them to the point of ecstasy, but never reaching the height, just simply enjoying themselves while they still had the time.
After a while, Cho could take no more, shivering and moaning under his loving touches, the pleasure reaching a crescendo. "Harry…"
"Anxious, are we?" Harry asked, letting the girl writhe beneath him, the flash of lightning rippled over her bare skin, making her look all the more beautiful in both darkness and light. "I thought you said we'd have all night."
"Personally, I won't be able to last much longer, and you're much farther along than I am." She gracefully opened up, parting her thighs to allow Harry entrance. The Champion of Gryffindor took the opportunity with gratitude, entering her with extreme care, so as not to harm the young woman. Touched by his tender affection, Cho smiled. "Honestly, Harry, I'm not made of glass! I won't break, and I know you'd never hurt me. Go on."
"What would your parents say if they caught you like this?" Harry inquired sardonically, slowly thrusting. "What would they think of their only daughter taking a lover who they haven't even met?"
With a playful smile, the Ravenclaw beauty squirmed her hips, breaking the connection, before seizing Harry by the wrists and pinning him to the futon. The young man gasped in ecstasy as Cho rode him, and waves of pleasure came crashing down upon him, threatening to swallow him whole. He was helpless, paralyzed, entranced by her, and enjoying every minute of it, his eyes never leaving Cho's for a moment as their lovemaking progressed. Chocolate-brown orbs welled up with desire, and Harry lost control, reaching his peak seconds before his lover, twin cries echoing into the howling storm.
And then all was silent. Cho was lying down beside Harry, both exhausted from their torrid coupling, drenched in sweat. Then she spoke, wrapping her arms around the young Gryffindor. "They would hate me for it, perhaps even disown me. But it's my body, my life, and I will not accept their chains, nor will I consent to becoming a piece of property." Pursing her lips, she buried her head into the crook of his neck, letting the Gryffindor stroke her hair. "I'll be back, Harry, I promise. Don't be afraid for me and don't waste any tears. To live is to suffer, but also to hope and dream and love. Don't forget that. Never forget it."
"I won't. I promise," Harry whispered, and then they were kissing again, her strong hands roaming over his body, holding each other for what could be the last time for a long while…
The sun had only just emerged over the treetops when Cho arrived at Hogsmeade Station, last night's rainfall glistening on the cherry-red metal of the Hogwarts Express. The journey down to Hogsmeade had been done in silence; neither Harry nor Cho could find the words to say, and Blaise was canny enough to understand when to avoid intervening. The other Champions had offered to help carry Cho's luggage, and the beautiful Ravenclaw offered no objections, staring silently into the distance and clenching the hilt of her katana. "I shouldn't be gone too long," she remarked, vainly attempting to break the malaise. "Three days, at most. They'll be having my birthday party tonight and I'll be meeting Zhang then, but I should find a way to sneak out before long."
"It'll be a rough few days," Blaise remarked, levitating a suitcase as she walked. "But don't worry about us; just enjoy the party, throw a drink in his face, then storm out. If he's anything like you described, you won't have to put up much of an act, you'll be well motivated to drive him out."
"One should hope so. perhaps I'll be able to get some studying done on the train. I wonder why Professor Dumbledore wanted me to go home this way rather than Portkey?"
"Something about also getting the chance to ship supplies and Aurors elsewhere in the process, and avoiding the chance of a Portkey malfunction," Harry stated, setting her things down at her feet, the sound of the train whistle' shriek like a knife to the heart. "So…this is it, huh?"
"It is," Cho sighed, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. "Don't be like that, Harry, I'll be back soon."
"And then I'll lose you again when you head off to university," he lamented, returning the gesture. "Why is there always something standing between us?"
"They may impede our way, but they can't stop us, Harry. I know it's hard, and I hate the thought of missing you when I graduate. But when I said that I loved you, I really meant it, and no distance between us will ever change that. Okay?"
Harry nodded, kissing her softly. "I feel like such a fool, whining like that in front of you while you face one of the biggest trials in your life. Forgive me?"
"Trust me, darling, if I was mad at you, you'd know it." The stream whistle shrieked once more, startling her into action. "Well, there's my ride. Goodbye, my love, I'll miss you. Just stay safe, okay?"
The young Gryffindor held her even tighter, feeling her lithe form press against him, and it psychically hurt to let her go, to let her face this challenge alone, and the pain of separation began to well up. "I will, I promise," he said, pouring all his emotion into one last kiss, savouring every last moment of contact he could while he had the chance. "Kick his arse and don't back down from him."
"I'll keep that in mind, beloved," Cho replied, giving him a longing, lingering look as she moved for the train, her luggage trailing close behind like obedient hounds following at their master's heels. Suddenly, the young woman stopped and turned, as if forgetting something, dark hair caught in the wind. "Blaise? Look after him, okay?" Looking rather flustered, the Champion of Ravenclaw boarded the train, disappeared into the white smoke, and was gone.
At the highest room of Ravenclaw Tower, Luna Lovegood clutched her head in pain, sobbing futility in the wake of the nightmare that tormented her thoughts and dreams. Her slender young body staggered around the room, colliding into walls and furniture, but she remained ignorant of the physical pain and the bruises that marred her pale skin, fingernails digging into her scalp as she tried to shut the visions out. "No, it's going all wrong!" she wailed to herself, sinking to her knees. "The fourth wasn't supposed to be like that! It wasn't supposed to happen that way!" A vial of some thick, glutinous mixture stood mockingly on the table, and Luna swept it away, shattering it against the wall. The girl sobbed, twisting her hands into bitter claws, gasping for breath. "The fourth is coming! By Rowena, how could we not see! How could we not have known!" Luna darted for the nearest corner, pressing herself against the stone and curling up into a ball, trembling in fright, eyes burning gold in the darkness. Every shadow rose up menacingly, and every thought spoke only of the horrors she had seen, the nightmare that emerged to consume her mind.
For Luna had seen much of what would pass, and much of what would come. She saw the true face of the fourth, and by the time she was discovered by a shaking second-year, Luna Lovegood had utterly retreated from the world, lost behind the barricades of her own mind and too frightened to venture into the daylight. She had seen into the heart of evil itself, and knew that if her vision came to pass, none of them would survive…
A/N: That was the longest it's every taken to complete a chapter, and it's an experience that I hope I don't have to repeat anytime soon. I've been under some stress lately, as it's my final year of university in September, and the pressure of job-hunting and what to do after school is really building up. Excuses aside, I found that this chapter was very difficult to write, and I spent a lot of time working on sections or scenes that I eventually dropped. Regardless, I hope you all enjoyed it (particularly the H/C lemon and discussion), and look forward to reading all of your reviews. I've found that they are of great help to me, both in helping me make the story better and in keeping myself motivated, so if you could take the time to write one, I would greatly appreciate it. Things are heating up now, and I'll try to post updates on a monthly basis (at the latest). I want to see the ending of the story as much as you! Thanks!
Next Chapter: Cho meets Zhang, Bones makes a desperate gamble, and all hell breaks loose…
