OR DIE TRYING: THE STORY OF CHO CHANG

By monkeymouse

NB: JKRowling built the Potterverse; I'm just redecorating one of the rooms. And one of the great things about JKR telling the story from Harry's point of view is that stuff could be happening all over Hogwarts that Harry isn't aware of.

Rated: PG

Spoilers: Everything

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26. The Wizard Within

Whatever the monster was and whatever it wanted, it seemed to have been satisfied by the attack on Colin Creevey. Nothing was heard from it for weeks afterward.

Not that the student body of Hogwarts didn't take matters seriously. Books were pulled down from dusty library shelves-some of them for the first time in decades-in attempts to find out what the monster might be and how best to counter it. Some of the more enterprising students started a brisk business selling protective amulets, crystals and plants to those who wanted "protection". Students quizzed teachers relentlessly; even Madam Hooch was repeatedly grilled about the Chamber of Secrets until she finally barked at a group of First-Years: "Knock it off! I may know every blade of grass in the stadium, but I know damn-all about any Chamber of Secrets in the castle! Now get on your brooms before I start attacking!"

Some teachers tried to proceed with the business of teaching magic to the students, and Cho, among others, liked it that way. Dwelling on any possible attack did no good. Best to stick to a routine; it keeps the mind from flying away and imagining all sorts of monstrous possibilities. Of course, she had her own ritual to look forward to: rising early on a Saturday morning, arranging her hair, filing her nails, eating a very light breakfast, putting on her Quidditch robes and finally-FINALLY-taking her Comet 260 into the sky as the Ravenclaw Seeker. That game was scheduled to happen just before the Hogwarts Express took everyone home for the holidays; everyone, it seemed, but Cho.

Two days before the match, on the 19th of December, a piece of parchment on the notice board near the Great Hall caught everyone's attention. It announced the formation of a Dueling Club, with the first lesson that evening at 8:00.

"Kind of ol'-fashioned, innit?" Jan said to Cho as they went in to breakfast.

"Sounds like fun to me," replied Erasmus Skiddle.

"Well, it shouldn't." That was the voice of Professor Flitwick, whose head barely came up to the students' waists. "I expect you'll all go to this, this thing. However, let the others know that I will be meeting with all of Ravenclaw House in the Common Room directly afterwards." With that, Flitwick strode toward the Head Table, with as serious and concerned a look on his face as any of them had ever seen.

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At the appointed hour, most of Ravenclaw was back in the Great Hall, where the dining tables had been pushed together to form a makeshift stage. Professor Gilderoy Lockhart dropped another notch in Cho's estimation as he tried to pass himself off as an experienced duelist, only to be flattened by Professor Snape.

A few students were called to the stage; Harry was pitted against Draco Malfoy. But from the first swish of a wand, it wasn't a duel: it was a brawl. Cho watched in shock as students threw all sorts of hexes back and forth, ranging from tickling fits to uncontrollable dancing. Some of the students abandoned their wands altogether and started fistfights.

Cho was about to leave the Great Hall in disgust when she heard Malfoy yell "Serpensortia!" She turned to see that he had conjured up a ten-foot-long black mamba; a very nasty snake with very deadly venom. Lockhart tried (and spectacularly failed) to halt the snake. That was left--to Harry Potter, who calmed the snake down immediately by hissing to it. Nobody had ever seen anything like that before, and Harry's friends rushed him out of the hall. That effectively ended the Dueling Club.

"What do you think that means?" Letitia Groondy asked as they made their way back to Ravenclaw.

"It means Potter's a Parselmouth," said Libby Foggly. "That's rare, that is, and it means you're a Slytherin or a servant of the Dark Arts."

"Well, Potter's neither one!" Penelope Clearwater said indignantly; then, less sure, she asked, "He isn't, is he?"

"It's logic, isn't it? The only Parselmouths have been students of the Dark Arts."

"That's not logical," Cho answered Libby back. "Maybe Parseltongue is just another wizarding talent, like flying or casting Charms. There could have been, say, a Hufflepuff Parselmouth who kept it hidden precisely because of the associations with the Dark Arts."

"Why are you so quick to defend Harry Potter?"

"It's not about Harry Potter!" Cho said, a bit too loudly. "Not just about him, anyway. I'm just pointing out the flaw in your argument."

They kept on debating about Parselmouths all the way to the Ravenclaw Common Room. It was almost impossible to find a seat, since most of the rest of the House was already there. Cho found a space behind the daybed where Roger Davies was already sitting, squeezed between other members of the Quidditch team.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Although they couldn't see him, the voice of Professor Flitwick carried over the babble of the students. Once they quieted down, the tiny professor stood on a low table in front of the fireplace. Even so, only his head was visible, bobbing on a sea of black robes.

"I assume that most of you were at the so-called Dueling Club tonight. It became just what I was afraid it would become: a shambles, a common brawl, and a disgrace to Hogwarts and everyone in it."

"But, Professor," Pablo spoke up, "we've heard rumours that you were a duelist yourself once."

Professor Flitwick sighed and wiped his face with his hand. "I had hoped not to discuss any of this, but it looks as if I must. You, there by the ladder; Mister Krixlow, isn't it? Could you hand me down the large green volume on the shelf just above your head, please?"

Vincent turned and pulled down the hefty book; several Ravenclaw hands passed it up to Professor Flitwick. He set the book down on the table and turned to an inner page. He then drew out his wand and pointed it at the book: "Projectos!"

There suddenly appeared next to the professor a translucent image of a picture from the book. This wizard was handsome, tall and lean, with a rugged jaw, an elaborately twirled mustache, and sparkling pale brown eyes behind his spectacles. The imager towered over Professor Flitwick.

"Have any of you seen this image before?" Nobody answered. "So none of you recognize who this wizard might be." He looked around the room in embarrassment. "The fact is, the book is one I wrote a long time ago, on two-handed Charming-casting two spells at once, you see. As for the picture, well, this is me."

Students actually gasped. This was impossible.

"Let me be more precise. This is me as I used to be, some two hundred years ago. Before I had the misfortune to take part in a duel.

"I was in University at the time, in Avalon. I was specializing in Charms and Hexes and was making a name for myself. Unfortunately, I was also competing with another student for the attentions of a certain witch. My rival, Cromwell Jinkers, challenged me to a duel, and I accepted.

"We met at dawn in one of the classrooms. It was my intention to hit him with a favourite combination of mine: Levitation and the Tarantellegra. I just wanted to dance him across the ceiling for a few minutes, to make the point that I was an expert in my field. Jinkers, who was not an expert, decided to strike before the three-count was over, as Mr. Malfoy did a few minutes ago. In my case, he Hexed me full-force with the Diminuendo."

The students kept looking back and forth, between the rakishly handsome young man and the wizened little dwarf. After a minute, Flitwick closed the book with his wand, and the image beside him vanished.

"Needless to say, my affaire de coeur ended that day, when I ceased to cut such a dashing figure. My interest in dueling also ended that day, since I learned something very important. It's the reason you are all gathered here. Duels may seem like harmless displays, a chance to show off your knowledge of Charms and Hexes. That is what the rules dictate. My opponent decided to throw out the rules, which made all the difference.

"When you become involved in a duel, you do not merely pit your knowledge against your opponent's. Duels reveal the wizard within-the capacity for fair play and for sound judgment. Duels show whether your opponent-and you yourself-will play by the rules, bend them, or break them beyond repair. They can be exceedingly dangerous, as I had occasion to find out."

"Professor," Libby Foggly spoke up. "At the end of the duel, we saw Harry Potter speak to a snake in Parseltongue. And some of us were wondering; have you ever heard of a Parselmouth who wasn't interested in the Dark Arts?"

"You already know the answer to that question, Miss Foggly. You were there, were you not?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Then tell me what happened."

"Malfoy conjured up a snake with the Serpensortia, and Potter spoke to it."

"Is that all that happened?"

"No, sir. Snape, pardon, Professor Snape started to get rid of the snake, but Professor Lockhart stepped in and blasted it across the room instead. The snake turned on one of the spectators, and that's when Potter spoke to it."

"And then, what happened?"

"Nothing happened. The snake stopped."

"Precisely," beamed Professor Flitwick. "The snake stopped! Mister Potter did not conjure up the snake himself, but, with limited time and abilities, his first impulse was to stop the snake from harming others. This is what I meant when I said that a duel reveals the wizard within. This evening, we looked into the mind and heart of Harry Potter, and we did not see a servant of the Dark Arts. So, to answer your question, I did not know of a Parselmouth who didn't embrace the Dark Arts-not until tonight."

With that, Flitwick dismissed the students, sending them to their dormitories for the night. Cho walked upstairs in a happier frame of mind than when she had returned that evening. Ha Li Po Te a student of the Dark Arts? It was absurd. After all, Potter had saved that boy-whoever he was- from the snake.

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to be continued in part 27, wherein Cho's good mood is entirely undone in the space of twenty-four hours . . .