Chapter 12: Heaven
The next day, Harry dropped off Cho's novel at Pegasus Publishing in Hogsmeade. At the end of the year, Harry rode back on the Express with his friends. They talked fondly of Cho. Harry could deal with his grief now, because of one night and the memory that it recalled.
It was the night after they had returned from the mission. Harry gave up on trying to sleep, and sat up. There were streaks on his face from dried tears, and he was the only one awake. He peered out a window and looked at the stars and the lawn below. He remembered looking at the stars overhead before both the best and worst moments of his life. Hogsmeade had been so beautiful.
Suddenly, Harry remembered the pictures he had taken three. He fished around in the drawer in his desk, and found his copies of those four pictures taken on that cobblestone street. He looked at Cho's smiling face and remembered her: her enchanting eyes, her beautiful smile, her wondrous wisdom, and her tender heart. At least you can keep their memories alive, she had said.
Harry began to cry again. They had had so many dreams and hopes as a couple that were unfulfilled. He would have devoted himself to her. He would have made her so happy. She had convinced him to believe in Providence, but how could God take her away at such a young age? She had been full of faith and love and good intentions, and she was young. Where was the fairness in that?
He looked again at the picture, and suddenly he remembered the scene. He had been so determined to take the perfect picture, taking way too much time preparing it.
Then he had looked up, and Cho had melted his heart. The memory of her appearance and her words led to a thought in his mind, and for the first time since her passing, he smiled genuinely and whole-heartedly.
Cho was surely in heaven, and he imagined her there. She was tapping her foot, her arms crossed and a playful smile on her face, expressing mock impatience. And she was looking down at him right now, and she was saying, Take your time, my love.
***
There is nothing more magical than love. "God is Love," said St. John.; thus, Love is God. Love people, love God, and leave the rest up to Providence. Do these things, and you will be practicing the greatest magic of all.
--Cho Chang,
From her novel, London Bridge
***
A/N: I've based this story on two statements that I've heard are attributed to J.K. Rowling. First, everyone in Book 4 likes the wrong person. Since the relationship is cursed, one could say that Cho is indeed "the wrong person" for Harry.
The second statement is that Harry dates someone for a short time in Book 5.
I'm not sure if these rumors are true, but this story accounts for them, in a way.
I did two things differently this time. First, I wrote almost all of it out by hand at first. Also, I listed out all the important events and determined the final chronology at the start. These strategies seemed to benefit me, and I'd heartily recommend them. In addition, a healthy obsession with the story and a character or two--in my case, Cho--really helped me keep my focus.
Death is a strange thing in fiction-writing. It's surprisingly easy to let fictional characters die, even if we love them. There's a detachment there. I'm sure Cho turns out to have a much different personality and fate in the canon, but this is largely why we write fan fiction these days: to exercise control over what will soon be out of our hands.
Influences: Jose Saramago's All the Names (on my ideas about the living and the dead), Margaret Atwood's The Blind Assassin (on structure and style), Gladiator (on the last words), SugarQuill's After the End, Blaise's The Farther Shore, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (on Cho's passing away scene), and the urge to inject my Catholic faith into the virtually non-religious Harry Potter story.
Of course, this could go in either of two ways: either Harry finds love again or he does not. In the latter case, he and Cho could--and this is kind of absurd--get married in heaven. In any case, I'm not following this story up.
--Pottermaniac
August 12, 2001