OR DIE TRYING: THE STORY OF CHO CHANG

By monkeymouse

NB: JKRowling built the Potterverse; I'm just redecorating one of the rooms.

Rated: PG-13 (The contents of this chapter may be considered unsuitable by some persons)

Spoilers: Everything

xxx

16. An Owl Home

6 November 1991

Dear Mummy and Daddy,

Sunday morning again. Coriander is scratching at the door to be let out, and Pywacket is playing with the hem of my nightgown. I've learned a few things about cats at Hogwarts, having two of them in my dormitory. One thing I've learned is that cats are much more dependent than owls; they always seem to need food or exercise or just a bit of attention. But that's what also makes them so much more fun than owls! I suppose that, when I was growing up, I just took Chairman Miao for granted, since he was the only cat in the house. Once I'm out of Hogwarts, though, I'll probably get a cat.

It's been a very busy week. The school had its Hallowe'en Feast-it was supposed to be just a bit of a party in the middle of the year. In the middle of it all, our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher bursts in saying that a troll had gotten into the castle dungeon. So they march us all up to our rooms. A half-hour later, they tell us the troll's been caught with no harm done, except to one of the girls' bathrooms.

How it got into the dungeon, thence to the first floor, is a mystery we've spent most of the week kicking around the Common Room. The door to the dungeon (the only one big enough for a mountain troll) was locked from the inside, which means that someone let it in, then re-locked the door. As to who would be lunatic enough to let a troll into the castle, there's simply no way to know. I think all of the students here have a quirk or two (including your impudent little horse!), but I can't imagine most of them wanting to put anyone's life at risk.

Note that I said "most". There's at least one truly awful character here, one year below mine. He's a Slytherin, which means he's got at least the makings of a very nasty character. But this one, Draco Malfoy-well, I won't get ahead of myself. Here's what happened:

It was a day or two after the Feast. I'd just come into the Common Room from practice-and we really are getting better every day! (I say "we" even though I probably won't play a game this year. This is the last year for Macarthur Culligan, our Seeker and Co-Captain. It's so important for him to leave with a winning season, and maybe even the House Cup. We're all working so hard to give it to him.)

I was just about to head up to the dormitory when Raina al-Qaba came in. She's usually quiet most times and very pleasant the rest, but she was crying like a lost child. She tried to run up to the dormitory, but she was in such a state that she tripped on the bottom step. My friend Penny Clearwater and I went to help her, and I guess being shaken up by the fall helped her, because she was less frantic, although still crying.

"What's the matter?" Penny asked.

"I just met the most awful student." Raina's actually shaking at this point.

"What, worse than me?" That was Grimaldi (of course).

"He's a First-Year, I think. Draco Malfoy. Hair like snow, face like a knife-blade."

"I know about him," Penny nodded. "Father's on the Board of Directors."

"Well, the way he was walking around, he acted as if he owned the castle. I was crossing the courtyard, and he moves right in my way; him and these two fat little students who act like his bodyguards."

"Bodyguards, is it?" Jan asked. "Full of himself, in't he?"

"I try to go around, but he keeps moving to block me. Before I realized what had happened he was right in front of me, and the other two were standing behind me, and I was caught in the middle. I couldn't get away. He sort of curls his lips and said, 'What are you doing here?'

"I said, 'I'm a student, like you.'

"He said, 'Get this straight: you are definitely NOT like me!' He starts reaching for my khimar [that's the scarf she always wears around her head] and I tried to back away, but those other two are there. Then he said, 'Where are you from anyway?'

"'I was born in London, but my parents are from Iran.'

Then he smirked at me again and he said, 'What does that make you-a Sand Witch?' The other two thought this was funny and started laughing. Then they started pushing me back and forth, and they kept chanting 'Sand Witch! Sand Witch!' They only stopped when one of the professors-Diggle, I think- came out of the castle. I . . . I was too embarrassed to say anything, so I just ran back here."

The poor girl was still shaking after recalling what had happened to her. Penny put her arm around Raina's shoulder. "We can't take any action against them now, I'm afraid. It would just be your word against theirs. Just be content until Saturday. We'll get to see all of Slytherin House get taken down a peg or two."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Letitia asked.

"Slytherin gets to defend its House Cup against Gryffindor." That was "Jinx" Jenkins, one of Ravenclaw's Beaters (and I'm not sure where he got his nickname; he's very aggressive at Quidditch but rather sweet-tempered off the field). "They've got to deal with Gryffindor's secret weapon."

"Wot's that, then?"

"Harry Potter, of course."

Ever since I got on the Ravenclaw team, I quite simply haven't had the time to be angry at Harry Potter for getting on as a Seeker in his first year. "How do you know he's that good?" I asked Jinx.

"Because Wood has been drilling with the boy three times a week. Potter didn't even know what Quidditch was when he got here, so they've had to get him up to speed. Anyway, with all that practice time, somebody's bound to just sort of walk past the stadium, or taken a nap under the stands, or something."

"Then you've seen him! You're saying he's good?"

"I'm saying that, for an amateur who's never played a match, he's very good."

"What does that make me, then?"

"You? You're older, you know the game inside-out, and you've played more matches than Harry. The fact is, you're damn good."

(Sorry for crowing about that; I know it isn't seemly. But I'm just reporting what was said.)

So Saturday came, and we all went to the stadium, not so much to cheer for Gryffindor as to hope that they beat Slytherin. But I was also there-and I suspect most of us were there-because of Ha Li Po Te. We'd heard so much about him, and seen him around Hogwarts, and by all accounts he's a pretty average student. We wanted to see why an exception was made in his case for Quidditch.

Well, from the opening whistle, we could see why. Whether it was all the training or something inborn, he rode his broom as if he was born for it. Almost every move he made was a move I would have made in the same position. He understood the game, the role of the Seeker, and how to play against the unbelievably dirty tactics of Slytherin.

I know I've written to you beforre about how they play Quidditch. Nothing has changed since last year, except maybe their ferocity. They knew (or suspected) that they'd have to fight for it this year, and what Slytherin did was more like brawling than Quidditch. At one point, both Seekers were racing toward the Snitch, but the Slytherin Captain deliberately collided with Harry Potter, forcing him almost off his broom. He must have felt that the team would rather suffer the penalty shot.

Shortly after that, something started going very odd with Potter, as if he was losing control of his broom. I don't mean to sound superior, but I don't think the Nimbus 2000 was designed for an eleven-year-old-and certainly not for an eleven-year-old to fly in a match, whether he vanquished the Dark Lord or not. Finally, he goes into a dive, falls off the broom when he gets close to the field-and takes the Snitch out of his mouth! Slytherin contested the play, and (I hate to admit it) well they should have; who's to say that he didn't have a Snitch tucked into his cheek all along?

The history of Quidditch includes some pretty audacious cheats. Lots of players-and the occasional spectator-cast spells on other players or referees; and Madam Hooch one time told me of a match where one team fielded three Beaters-one of them had gotten his hands on a Cloak of Invisibility, so he was quite literally a secret weapon. (That one ended when the extra Beater didn't pay attention and was knocked unconscious by a Bludger.)

So, in the end, Gryffindor was declared the winner. I was glad for Raina's sake, but as for Harry Potter, I'd say the jury is still out. Nothing I saw yesterday in his first game convinced me that he was the great talent that the rumours said he was. Still, there will be other matches this year.

The weather gets cooler, the days grow shorter. School is enjoyable, Quidditch is enjoyable, but this year I'll be glad to get back for the holidays. You'll understand why. Scratch Chairman Miao behind his ears for me. I'll write again next weekend-sooner if anything interesting happens. But every week can't be as interesting as trolls and Quidditch.

Cho

xxx

to be continued in part 17, wherein Cho goes home for the holidays and finds more than she bargained for at the British Museum