~*Everything You Want*~
Chapter Nine: Is It All That Great Without Me
Thalia: Two chapters in a row! DA-AMN we're good!! *raises the ubiquitous "ph34r us" sign*. In which chapter.... Cho starts showing somewhat Rogerian tendencies and gets jealous... heh! We all know they're meant for each other...
Dove: Have we mentioned that Fleur is here to make a mess of things? As the official Fleur Fanfiction Goddess, I can't wait to utilize her here… this makes you wonder if just beating them over the head might be easier. Really.
Disclaimer: Someday, we'll convince you we don't own Harry potter. Probably.
"Is it all that great without me
I really want to know
Was it easy to forget me
Cause your eyes are saying no
Did you find a broken rainbow
With an empty pot of gold
Well if it's all that great without me
Then I'm glad you let me go
I don't mean to sound so vengeful
Or to hit you when you're down
But you took my house of dreams
And burnt it to the ground…"
-Evan & Jaron – "Is It All That Great Without Me"
Cho discovered in classes the next day that her workload was to be unbearable. "You are to be taking the O.W.L.s at the end of the year," Professor Flitwick informed the fifth year Ravenclaws in their morning Advanced Charms class. "As Ravenclaws, both your parents and I expect top performances out of you this year. To achieve these results, we will be adding extra two-hour applied magic sessions after dinner on Wednesdays. You are free to come and review for your O.W.L.s. You are not required to attend, although I thoroughly recommend that you do so." He smiled. "I'm sure you will not disappoint us."
It was much the same in every class she had that week, except Defense Against the Dark Arts. "I was told to beat into your heads that you need top O.W.L. scores," Professor Moody growled as he entered the room, limping a bit on his fake leg. "Consider your heads beaten if you like, since I'm not going to mention those useless tests again."
The class gave a unified gasp of horror. After all, insulting the O.W.L.s was rather like insulting the Ministry, who required them. Besides that, as Ravenclaws, tests were something of a holy ground.
"It's dark times we're in," Professor Moody continued. "Dark times, and it is possible, even probable, not everyone in this room will live until graduation."
Back in the corner, Cassandra of the delicate nerves sniffled a little. She did seem genuinely upset. Due, however, to her ubiquitous histrionics caused by absolutely nothing, no one paid attention except Melissa. "Professor, you're going to give Cassandra nightmares," Melissa piped up.
"She's a big girl, Miss... Trenton," he said, consulting his roll sheet. "Now, you can sit down and listen, or you can leave."
Melissa sat.
"War isn't a friendly business," the teacher continued. "In order to make sure more of you survive to talk about it, we're going to work on offensive tactics because, as you Quidditch players say, offense is the best form of defense. Now, get up and move the desks aside..."
By the end of this class, everyone sported a few bruises and held a petrified sort of respect for Professor Moody.
Except trying to master this new form of learning, nothing very interesting happened, except the announcement that the delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang would be arriving on Halloween. The school was abuzz, wondering what they and the tournament would be like. Sarah Fawcett and Henry Vanderhoff were often seen with heads bowed conspiratorially together over sheaves of parchment too messy to be notes.
"Trying to enter the tournament," Penelope sighed to Cho one night as they sat helping the first year girls with their impossible Defense Against the Dark Arts homework. "I know exactly what they're doing, but I can't seem to get them to come to their senses."
Cho was tired from her O.W.L. practice session-it was Wednesday, after all-but quite cheerful as she worked alongside Penelope. "Are you entering, Penny?" she asked, making alterations in an essay on the subject of basilisks. "That's a toad, not a frog, Orla," she said, pointing about halfway down. "Otherwise, this part's all right. You'll have to redo the next part, though, because that's just a theory at this point... Professor Moody won't accept it." Handing the essay back, she turned expectantly to Penelope. "Well?"
"No, I'm not."
"Roger Davies will," Orla piped up. "He's the reckless one."
"Let's not discuss Roger Davies," Cho said, lips thinning.
Alison Crisp, another first year, sighed. "But you said he didn't matter anyway, and, besides-"
"HE DOESN'T MATTER!" Ignoring the startled looks from the rest of the common room, Cho stomped off to bed.
"Nice going," Calista muttered from across the room.
"Smooth," Orla shook her head. "She wasn't even finished with my essay."
Penny sighed as she watched the fifth year Chinese girl storm away to her dormitory. "I'll look at your essay, Orla. Just remember the cardinal rules of Ravenclaw Tower. Firstly, you don't ever slack off on your studies. Secondly, you don't ever hurt someone maliciously. Thirdly, you don't ever mention Roger Davies and Cho Chang's names to each other."
"What's this about me?" Roger walked into the common room, back from Prefect duties. Several people noticed how he quickly glanced at Cho's usual seat by the window, then clench his jaw almost imperceptibly. Penny shrugged.
"Nothing. I was just about to look at Orla's Defense Against the Dark Arts essay. What was it on?" she asked Orla.
"Basilisks." the first year girl answered promptly. Penny winced, remembering a pair of murderous yellow eyes her fifth year, then darkness...
Roger, who had heard this exchange, stepped forward, "Say, Penelope, why don't you go and help out Terry Boot on his Ancient Runes translation, I'll look at her essay, I'm better at Defense than languages, anyway."
Penny smiled gratefully, "All right, thank you, Roger." Under her breath, she muttered, "Now, why can't you be this considerate to the girl who loves you? Men!"
Roger sat down in the middle of the group of first and second year students, somewhat surprised to see them looking at him in an almost idolizing manner. He picked up Orla's essay and began to read.
A while later, he looked at her, "Well, this essay is very good overall, Orla. This part, though is mere speculation at this point, so you cannot include it as if it were a fact." Patiently, he started explaining the concepts to Orla, as the others listened carefully.
In her dormitory, Cho cursed inwardly. She had left the book on Patroni that she had gotten from the library in the common room. Now, it would have been no big deal for the most part, but the book was due back tomorrow and she still had a chapter to read. Now, she had to go back and likely face a lot of strange looks from the younger students. And of course, she would have to apologize to Orla for not finishing looking over her essay.
Quietly, she descended the staircase that led to the common room. She looked inside, and her eyes widened. Roger had taken the seat that she had vacated, and was patiently explaining Orla's assignment to her. He was even smiling slightly. He smiled so rarely nowadays. Cho's heart leapt up for a moment, then dropped back down like a stone. Her book lay right next to him.
Roger smiled at the first-year girl. She was quite the quick learner of Defense Against the Dark Arts once she got the hang of it. Now, she was scribbling furiously over her essay, and Roger was fairly sure that it would even be up to Professor Moody's standards. Then, he felt a prickling sensation at the back of his neck. Someone was watching him.
He looked up, and immediately, the smile vanished from his face. Cho Chang walked towards him, her face blank and stony. The young students around him quieted immediately, and an awkward silence filled the air.
"I came to get my book." Cho said tonelessly, gesturing the leather-bound tome next to him. He shrugged, his face as stony as hers.
"Be my guest." Cho walked up to the couch and bent over to retrieve the volume. Her shortened hair fell forward over her shoulders, and quite accidentally, brushed the side of his face. He flinched as if in pain, and moved away.
Cho grabbed her book and stalked away without a backwards glance.
Orla found her tutor taciturn and terse for the rest of the evening. She glanced around the room at the still-conspiring Fawcett and Vanderhoff.
"Oh, why can't they go and plot something useful for once, like how to lock Roger and Cho into a room until they snog or something?" she whispered to Calista.
"Robin Harrison tried that last year, locking them in the broomshed after Quidditch practice until they could talk out what was wrong. Cho wouldn't speak to him for a week afterwards, and Roger chased him around the pitch waving his Beater's club in one hand and his wand in the other and threatening to turn him into a duck-billed platypus before concussing him. No one's tried it since." Calista whispered back.
The younger students sighed collectively.
***
Soon it was time for the foreign students to arrive.
Halloween was rather an interesting time to choose for it, Roger thought. Then again, he had been finding the small ironies in life more and more frequently lately. As they stood in a crowd outside, looking around and wondering when and where the students would appear, and how they would get here.
A second year girl, whose name Roger recalled as being Calista, expressed the opinion that they would fly.
"But it's cold!" chorused most of the younger girls.
"Not on broomsticks," she said.
"A flying carpet?"
"That would be just as cold," someone pointed out.
"Not a carpet, either," Calista shook her head, musing almost to herself. "But maybe a-"
"LOOK!" A flying coach had arrived. People looked at the quiet Calista with more respect.
Roger didn't pay much attention after this, because he caught a conversation going on behind him as the French students exited the coach. "Yes, he is really good-looking. But Roger Davies looks better."
"We all know that, Cassandra." Ah, the silly fifth year girls. "But Roger is..."
"Yes, isn't he? The French boy shows more promise..."
Behind them a few rows, Cho heard also, and seethed.
Roger Davies was not that good looking! All right, she admitted to herself, all right, maybe he was. Maybe he was beautiful. Maybe he made girls turn incoherent with one gaze. MAYBE. But he was still an unreasonable, temperamental prat. A beautiful, unreasonable, temperamental prat...
Growling at the direction of her thoughts, she turned her attention to the arriving delegation from Durmstrang. The Hogwarts students turned towards the lake, where a skeletal ship was slowly rising out of the swirling, turbulent waters. The ship rowed to shore, dropped anchor, and came to a halt, and the Durmstrang students, led by a sleazy-looking Headmaster, filed out.
One student, a grim-looking boy with a slouching posture and shuffling gait caught Cho's attention. She looked closer, and gasped. Nor was she the only one to do so. A slight distance away from her, she heard the youngest Weasley boy exclaim to Harry Potter and that girl, Hermione, the boy's name.
He was, quite unmistakably, Viktor Krum!
In front of her, Cassandra and Melissa had abruptly ceased the argument about Roger's good looks when they realized who he was, and immediately started gushing about the young foreign celebrity instead, wondering if he would sign their hats in lipstick and whatnot. The topic of Roger was no longer mentioned.
Cho decided that Viktor Krum was a very nice sort of fellow to have around.
After greetings and introductions, the Hogwarts students, followed by the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang representatives, filed back into the castle for the feast. The Durmstrang students went ahead and sat down at the Slytherin table, and the Beauxbatons students, after looking around, walked towards their table. Cho didn't pay much attention.
Then, she felt a tap on her shoulder, "Excuse me, may I sit 'ere?"
She looked up to see a tall French boy with light brown hair and a lopsided smile, the same boy that had been deemed to "show promise" by her silly roommates. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cassandra nodding at her frantically, her eyes begging Cho to allow the boy to sit so that they could fawn over him.
"All right." She moved over, giving the boy room to sit next to her. He thanked her, then introduced himself.
"My name eez Philippe Carsairs, and 'oom do I 'ave ze 'onor of speaking to?"
"Cho, Cho Chang." she replied laconically. She saw Cassandra and Melissa make their way over, almost-predatory looks on their faces. "And those two are Cassandra Feldman and Melissa Trenton. They're my roommates, and they're quite interested in your school." Okay, maybe that was a bit abrupt, but could she help it if she was not really in the mood for making small talk and it was obvious that those other two were just dying to meet the fellow? She saw Cassandra flirtatiously toss her curled head and rolled her eyes and turned to her food. And then, a moment later, the arrival of someone else at her table caused her to set her fork down and stare.
Roger's eyes had narrowed as he watched Cho make way for the French boy to sit down beside her. Good Merlin, wasn't Diggory enough?! The French bloke sat down with a big smile on his face, and the ease of someone who was quite used to pretty girls fawning over him. He better not hurt her, or I will personally rip him apart... he thought automatically, before stopping himself. He didn't care. Really! Goodness, he needed to find some sort of distraction.
One showed up a moment later, walking towards him. A Beauxbatons girl about his age with a beauty too unearthly to be human: tall, statuesque figure, flawless skin, perfectly even features and a mane of lustrous blonde hair. She strode over to where he was sitting, and asked, in a melodious if slightly imperious voice, "May I sit down 'ere?"
He looked at her for a moment. She was quite stunningly beautiful. Even though her lustrous hair was too light. Even though the brilliant eyes were blue rather than brown and held a look too worldly. Even though her satiny voice sounded like it had never burst into a spontaneous fit of laughter in her life. Even though her elegant bearing was too proud and majestic. But at least, she was a distraction. He nodded and made room for her. "Hullo, I'm Roger Davies."
"Fleur Delacour." she held out a hand and shook his briefly.
"It's nice to meet you. Welcome to Hogwarts." Soon, they struck up a conversation about their favorite classes, and Roger found out that this girl shared his affinity for Charms. Soon, they were having a lively conversation about Charms theory, and he found out that the regal Fleur was actually quite smart under the queenly demeanor. And, she kept his mind busy enough with questions and statements that he didn't even think about anything else... much.
Cho watched as the elegant, strikingly beautiful blonde girl looked around the Ravenclaw table appraisingly for a moment before her eyes landed on Roger. Gracefully, she made her way over, and in a mellifluous, French-accented voice, she asked if she could sit next to him. Roger graciously agreed and moved to make room for her.
And Cho Chang, for the first time in her life, found herself irrationally hating someone on sight.