The streets were dark and dank and cold, with a lingering smell of fish. The alleyways were quiet as graveyards, except for the occasional yowling catfight over someone's leftover dinner scraps. Lights were switched off, doors were locked; the only movement was that of smoke curling out of brick chimneys. The houses along Frances Way sat like sleeping dragons, guarding their precious treasures of small, be-flowered yards. Somewhere in the depths of one, an heirloom grandfather clock struck 2:15 AM with a series of soft bonggggs.
No one stirred as a shadow was thrown in sharp relief against a garden wall. It strode along gracefully, its four legs curiously elongated by the light's projection. It disappeared as it moved out of range of the streetlamp. Had anyone chanced to wake and look out the window, they would have seen what appeared to be an extremely large, striped cat, gradually being swallowed up by the darkness. Had they looked a little closer, they would have known they were deep in a strange dream- Bengal tigers did NOT walk down Frances Way. It simply wasn't a Roaming-Bengal-Tiger-in-the-Middle-of-the-Night sort of neighborhood.
The tiger, whose full name was in fact Lien Cho Chang, was tired, dirty, and extremely irritable. She was growling to herself under her breath, and wishing for a nice, hot bath. Can't wait to get home, she thought. Can't believe I have to walk- if someone from the Ministry see me, I'm dead, dead, dead. 12 more blocks. Agghh, want to get home. She stalked along the sidewalk, rounding the corner onto Greater Filk Street, still mentally muttering and cursing.
Half an hour later, the tiger known to her friends as Cho made her way up the steps of a small stone building, where she looked around furtively, then suddenly transformed into a rather petite young woman, with black hair pinned up into a bun, dark blue eyes, and a very dirty face. She unlocked the door and walked into the hallway, staggering drunkenly up the steps to her apartment. She unlocked her door, then closed and warded it behind her with a mumbled Clausiocavo and a light flick of her wand. She stepped out of her shoes, walked into the living room- and promptly collapsed on the floor. 38 hours later, she was awoken by the persistent ringing of her phone.
She dragged herself up off the rug, and stumbled over to the phone. "'Lo."
"Cho, you're back! I've been a bit worried. You all in one piece?"
Her brain struggled to engage. "…….Neville?"
"Yes, yes, of course. Are you alright? You sound odd."
"Woke me up," Cho muttered crossly. She was never her best in the morning. She glanced up at the clock- it was 4:45 in the afternoon. "Nev. Um. Got home late. Bath. Food. Talk later." She hung up the phone and staggered into the bathroom. Leaning over the sink, she splashed cold water on her face- she was absolutely filthy, and the pattern of the rug was pressed into her cheek. She stripped off her simple robes, and waved her wand over the bathtub. Water and orange-blossom scented bubbles immediately began spewing out of the faucet. She lowered her aching body into the water with a long, drawn-out sigh of pleasure. It had been nearly three months since she'd had a real bath. She laid her head back against the side of the tub and stared at the ceiling, which was decorated with a painting of a Chinese flower pond- she'd painted it last year on an impulse born of total boredom. The blossoms in the painting seemed to shimmer against the cool blue of their pond, and the warm water lapping against her neck felt like absolute heaven. The only sound was a light pattering against the window- it was raining outside. The scent of the bubble bath filled the tiny room so it smelled like an orchard in full bloom. Sound and sight and smell and feel. Mmmm. At peace, Cho drifted back to sleep.
An hour later, the phone rang. Cho, jolted out of a pleasant dream, sat bolt-upright in the now freezing water, and glared out the bathroom door into the living room. "I hate you, Neville Longbottom!"
She defiantly waited until the phone had stopped ringing before climbing out of the tub. She wrapped her shivering body in a thick towel, and made her way into her tiny bedroom.
Her closet was fastidiously organized by color and style of clothing. Reaching in, she plucked out a cotton dress of deep rose. She slipped it on and walked over to the antique dresser. She brushed out her long black hair and pulled it back off her face with an enamel barrette. She applied mascara, lip gloss, and a touch of blush to sharp cheekbones, then used a simple charm to get rid of the smudges under her eyes. It wasn't so much that she was a vain woman; she simply believed in taking pride in a neat and attractive appearance. It was something that confused many- she was a small, elegant woman who could survive in a jungle with nothing but a canteen of water and her wand, who dated often but was never attached, who was full of energy yet always held onto a certain calm. Every movement and gesture she made carried the same quick, deliberate grace as that of the tiger. No one had been very surprised at her chosen animal when she'd first registered as an Animagus. Something of a mystery, people said of Lien Cho Chang. An interesting woman, and a strong one. Well liked, but not well known. A puzzle indeed. Only appropriate of an Unspeakable of the Department of Mysteries, they whispered behind their hands- those types can't let anything away. Top-secret, you know.
Cho stared at herself in the mirror for a moment. With her usual guard gone, she looked tired- the kind of bone deep tired that has nothing to do with sleep. This last mission had taken its toll on her. Perhaps a vacation was in order. Perhaps she should consider a bit of desk duty. Perhaps, she thought with an inner sigh, she should call poor Neville back.
After I've eaten something, she thought, making her way into the kitchen and opening the refrigerator (which was in fact just a large white cupboard, spelled to remain cold). Opening the door, she winced. Not so much as a speck of anything edible. She poked around in the cupboard until she found a package of lo mein noodles, a can of water chestnuts, a package of moldy bread, and one oddly non-rotten tomato. She put water in a pan on the stove and tossed in the noodles. "Coqueo." The pot began to bubble merrily. She drained the noodles into a blue pottery bowl as soon as they were done, and added in chopped tomato and water chestnuts. After she sprinkled a light pinch of salt and ginger over the bowl, she dug in with a will. It tasted like celestial ambrosia.
Half an hour later, the kitchen was clean and tidy, with a neatly written grocery list sitting on the counter. Cho settled herself on the emerald-toned divan in her living room. Picking up the phone, she dialed Neville's number. He picked up halfway through the first ring.
"Cho? Is that you, finally?" he asked, sounding rather testy.
"Yes, it's me. Sorry about this afternoon- I didn't get home until almost three in the morning last night- no wait, the day before. I'm fine, just a little tired and scratched up."
The anger immediately drained from his voice. "Hey," he said softly. "You sure you're alright? I know you can't tell me much about the mission, but…was it bad?"
"Yes." She told him shortly. "It was." She heard Neville give a little sigh on the other end of the phone.
"Can I take you to dinner tomorrow? Just some rest and relaxation time, no pressure. We should talk."
Cho picked up a small figurine off the end table next to the couch. It was a little girl, holding out a large lotus blossom as though offering it to someone. Carved of pure Chinese jade, it was the color of a ripening lime. Cho ran her thumb over the petals.
"Why don't you come over here, Neville. Tomorrow, around eight. I'll make some kind of dessert, and if it isn't raining, we can eat it out on the balcony. Alright?" She closed her hand around the little jade figure.
"That's fine with me. I'll take the Express down to London
from Hogsmeade. I've missed you- Lien."
Cho heard a light click as he hung up the phone. She expelled a shaky breath. In her 25 years, there had been a total of four men who had called her Lien. Her grandfather, her father, now Neville. And Cedric.
She closed her eyes tightly and wrapped her arms around her legs. Settling her cheek on her knees, she stared at the wall. There was a photo hung there. It had obviously been taken at night, and depicted a little area of water covered in lotus blossoms. They seemed to glow, releasing a pale blue luminescence in the moonlight. Like pearls dropped in the tears of sapphires, Cho remembered; that was what how he had described the color.
The memory resurfaced, as clear as pixie crystal. Her fifth year at Hogwarts; she had been dating Cedric Diggory for two months. They had kept it quiet, not wanting anyone to give them a hard time. Until just before Christmas, when he'd asked her to go to the Yule Ball with him. She was sixteen, and wildly in love- and not a little unnerved. She hadn't ever dated much, and had been quite content with her female friends.
Then she and Cedric had shared a compartment on the Hogwarts Express, at the beginning of the year. She was 15, he 17. They had talked about everything- a long, rambling conversation that lasted the length of the trip. Once they arrived at the castle, they had parted company in the Great Hall to sit at their own House tables.
The first day of classes, Cedric had waved to Cho in the halls, and then worked his way through the mill of students to ask her if she had any free time that evening. He had a brand new telescope to try out, and wanted her to come with him to the Astronomy Tower. She had agreed, somewhat warily- the Tower was a notorious Lovers' Lane. But to her surprise, she and Cedric had enjoyed a two hour conversation about astronomy, an interest they shared. They fiddled around with the telescope, talked, made jokes.
Cho came to realize two things over the next couple of months: Cedric was someone that she felt absolutely, completely at ease with- a rare thing for one of the Changs, who had a long Unspeakable history and were taught from the cradle to always be on their guard. Second, Cedric was a gentleman. Not the fussy, kiss-your-hand, open-the-door-for-you type- that would have made Cho vastly uncomfortable- but simply a good man to his bones.
As they became closer, Cho let her guard slip further and further. The week before the Yule Ball, she had told him her name, and the story behind it. Lien. Lotus. He was the first man outside her family to have her permission to use the name.
On the night of the Ball, she had been drunk with happiness- everything seemed sharpened, magnified. Colors, all different shades, swirled around her. It was like being in a garden of sound and texture and rainbow. She and Cedric had danced every dance, spinning and twirling all around the Great Hall. During a lull, he had taken her hand and led her outside. "Where are we going?" she'd asked.
"It's a surprise," he'd answered, with a grin and a kiss.
They'd started walking in the direction of the lake, then around the edges, leaving the lights of the castle further and further behind. Almost at the opposite end of the lake, they reached the edge of a willow thicket. Cedric pointed his wand directly at the trees.
"Separo Arboreum."
A narrow path appeared in the tangle- though it was really more of a tunnel, as the tops of the willows were still thickly intertwined overhead. Cedric smiled. "Ladies first."
Cho began to pick her way down the little path, Cedric's hand at her waist. There was some sort of light at the end. A minute later, she came out on the bank of a tiny inlet, tucked back out of sight of the castle. The surface was covered with close to a hundred lotuses. She simply stood and stared.
"Do you like it?" Cedric had asked her, his voice quiet. "I looked up a spell to make things grow quickly in water, and begged the lotus starts off of Professor Sprout."
"It's beautiful." She knelt down, touched one of the waxy petals. "One for love," she murmured to herself. She looked up at Cedric. He offered his hand to help her up. They stood facing each other.
"Merry Christmas, my Lien." He whispered it into her hair as he pulled her tightly against him. He had held her while she cried, cried as she hadn't since she was eight years old.
Hours or maybe minutes later, he had taken her back to the castle, and had led her to the Hufflepuff common room. It was largely deserted- nearly everyone was still out partying, or tucked into a corner of the garden. It had been an easy thing to make it to his room undetected. They had made love for the first time. Cho had never regretted this; it had been right for her.
Six months later, on the morning of the Third Task, Cedric had come up to her at breakfast and handed her a small package, wrapped in blue tissue paper.
"Late birthday present," he explained.
Cho had laughed. "I turned sixteen in November, Cedric. Over six months ago."
"I know, but..….an Unbirthday present, then."
She had pecked him on the cheek, then run like hell to make it to Charms. "See you tonight!" she'd called over her shoulder. And she had. She had wished him luck before he went down to the field and entered the maze. It was the last time she saw him alive.
After midnight, unable to cope with the sight of Cedric's mother's silent tears, or her friend's attempts at comfort, she had escaped to her room. She curled up into a little ball on her bed and wept as though something inside her was broken. A petal of her lotus had been plucked and tossed to the wind. Love. Gone just like that.
In the morning, she had awoken slowly. Sunlight filtered in through the window to her room, but she felt no warmth. It was then that she had spotted the little tissue-wrapped package, still sitting on her nightstand. She had been running late getting to the field for the Third Task, and had set it there to open later. She snatched it up and tore at the wrapping paper. Her hands gentled as she saw what was inside. It was a photograph of the lotus inlet that Cedric had created for her. They had visited it many times since he'd first shown it to her. The picture frame was made of carved jade- filigreed, so it consisted of tendrils that curled around mother-of-pearl lotus blooms. It must have taken him forever to find. A small piece of parchment was attached, with a note scribbled on it: Got Colin Creevey to lend me his beloved camera! Hope you like it. Love you. –C.
Still staring trancelike at the photo on her apartment wall, Cho gave into the grief that had been buried deep inside her for nine long years. It hurt. Oh, how it hurt. But somehow, acknowledging the pain and letting it out was like releasing a pent up breath. A lone tear tracked down her cheek. The lotuses continued to glow, captured forever in an image of utter peace and beauty. And the woman named Lien stood up and went to bed.