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
xxx
42. High Spirits
"15 January 1994
Dear Mummy and Daddy,
I'm writing on a Saturday from my second home at Hogwarts-the hospital wing. First of all, I assure you that I feel fine, nothing got broken this time, and I'll be back in Ravenclaw House by tonight. And what happened to me wasn't my fault at all. But I've missed yet another Quidditch match! You're probably very pleased, mummy, but I feel that, if I don't keep my hands occupied by writing this letter, I'll only end up throwing something through the window!
To begin at the beginning, then-
Whatever holiday atmosphere we wanted to bring back with us to Hogwarts after the holidays was literally swallowed up when we got to Hogsmeade. Once again, we had to leave the train and return to the castle under the dementors' awful gaze. (Now that I think of it, I don't even know that they have eyes-I've never seen them, at any rate-so speaking of their "gaze" may be totally off the mark.)
Those of us in Ravenclaw House know that this first month back is crucial for us if we want to win the Quidditch Cup and perhaps the House Cup. Today's match is the long-delayed match against Slytherin House; you've read my letters and heard me speak about them, so I'll say no more-except to say that the fact they're still in contention today is only owing to their Seeker playing up a nip on the arm he got from a hippogriff last year. Honestly, he poured it on so thick and so fast that Slytherin didn't have to play at all the past four months. They could just sit back, practice, and probably spy on the rest of us.
But about the wardrobe . . .
The weather has been relatively kind to us, and our own practice sessions had gone well. Roger was confident that we could knock Slytherin decisively out of the running with our first game. It would give Ravenclaw its second win of the year, and all but sew up the Cup for us, since Gryffindor lost so spectacularly to us last autumn. But then, you've heard me on that subject too . . .
So it was with no pressure and no worries that I went into Charms class on Friday. It's a favourite course of mine, and not just because Professor Flitwick is also Head of Ravenclaw. He has a very sweet and even temper and seems to like everyone. The most cross I've ever seen him was last year when Gilderoy Lockhart tried to start up a Dueling Club here-like everything else Lockhart tried here, it was a disaster.
The subject this day was Summoning Spells. We found ourselves in a classroom full of very large pouffes and pillows. The idea was to Summon something substantial, but which wouldn't hurt itself or anything else if it went astray. Of course, as you can imagine, kids will be kids, and soon pouffes were flying all over the room, and gradually, book-bags and other things started flying too. Once Professor Flitwick took his first trip across the room (the first of several!), it became a free-for-all, but nobody minded in the least, least of all Professor Flitwick. The whole thing was like a snowball fight; it was all good fun, and we all landed on the cushions.
Most of us, at any rate.
At one point, a couple of the boys from my class decided to Summon me across the room. I didn't mind, but then one of the girls fought back by Summoning one of the boys who Summoned me. In short, we were headed for a collision. He put his arms out and shoved me to the side. He shoved a bit too hard, because I went headfirst into a wardrobe door.
And that was the last thing I remembered until I woke up a little while ago. I hadn't any idea what time it was, but I certainly recognized the hospital wing. I looked over at Madam Pomfrey, who seemed surprised that I was trying to get up out of the bed.
"Please stay still, Miss Chang! You've had a concussion and been unconscious. You mustn't get up yet!"
To tell the truth, I did feel a bit unsteady on my feet, so I fell back onto the bed. I managed to ask, "How long have I been out?"
"Not long enough, from the looks of it," Madam Pomfrey answered back. "You'll need a bit more rest, I think."
"I meant, how many minutes?"
"Minutes? Child, you were brought in here yesterday!"
I couldn't believe it; that meant that it was Saturday, with the Quidditch match at eleven! The clock in the ward said 10:35, so I knew that-once again-it was all up for me playing Seeker.
None of the team was there, but they'd probably come by while I was unconscious. Now they were getting ready for the match, while I couldn't.
Funnily enough, I wasn't upset about it this time. I realized that this was a freak accident, something that could have happened to anyone. So I asked Madam Pomfrey, as she was going to watch the match, for a scroll and a quill. I'm writing you to pass the time, and not to feel lonely or downhearted about everything. That can happen so easily when you're all alone in the hospital wing, and not even the ghosts come by to keep you company.
I'll send this off now, and tell you later if we won or not.
Best wishes to all
Cho"
Madam Pomfrey had left a window open at the far end of the ward, and Quan Yin had been waiting on the sill for the past few minutes. As soon as Cho started rolling up the scroll, the owl glided over to her bedside. She stroked the bird's feathers a few times before fastening the letter to her leg.
Just as the owl went back out the window, Roger stuck his head in from the hall. "Have a minute?"
The question "How did we do?" was already out of Cho's mouth when she realized: I know how we did, and it didn't go too well. Roger was there alone, after all, and his mood was definitely subdued.
"Well, it could have been worse. 190 to 180, but that means that, if we take Gryffindor next month, we'll have another shot at the Cup."
"Details, Roger; give me details!"
"Same old Slytherin, basically. They set out to get the Seeker, any way they could. The Chasers were hitting Bludgers at him! Jinx was pretty shy by the end, but we rolled up a pretty good score and kept them down to nearly nothing. In the end, Jenkins and Malfoy were clawing for the Snitch like a couple of cats after a mouse, and then Slytherin gets one in the goal just before Malfoy takes the Snitch."
"Sounds exciting at the end, then."
"MISS CHANG, IT WAS A DEAD BRAWL!!"
Madam Hooch! She was standing at the door to the wing, still in her referee's robes, and angrier than Cho had ever seen her. The teacher strode briskly toward Cho's bed.
"I know you couldn't have prevented this, so I'm not going to tell you that. But your House isn't the only one that expects you to do your part."
"Madam, believe me, I . . ."
"Don't interrupt! I've been waiting for you to show yourself on that pitch. You probably don't even understand what's at stake! Well, your time here at Hogwarts has passed the halfway mark and you've nary a match to show for it! We need to see you out there next month!"
Without waiting for a reply, Madam Hooch turned on her heels and marched back out of the wing, leaving Cho literally shaking in the bed.
Roger was pale as well, but tried to make a joke of it: "Well, I didn't expect the Lord of the Admiralty."
It worked. Cho smiled, and let go of the breath she'd been holding. The atmosphere became immediately lighter, just as the rest of the team came into the wing.
"Sorry, Cho," Jinx Jenkins started, "I guess you've heard . . ."
"Nothing to apologize for; I know you did your best."
"All right, everyone!" Davies was acting as if he were giving a pep talk. "We're down but not out. It's three weeks until the next match, when we have it out with Gryffindor. Winner gets the honor of stomping Slytherin's face in the mud!" Cho looked around; the others were nodding and grinning, the defeat forgotten.
"I know the way Wood's mind works. He's going to drive the team without mercy; three practices a week, and more if he can get away with it. We don't need those many, though; we'll just keep to the schedule. Stay rested, stay loose. They'll be the ones feeling the pressure.
"As for you, Cho." She was actually startled to hear him call her name. "I'm issuing a direct order to you. Friday the fourth, I want you to skive off all your classes. I'll fix it with the professors, but your marks are good so you won't suffer. Try to stay in Ravenclaw House; if we can get your meals to the Common Room, we'll do that. Best would be to stay in bed in your dorm all day."
"ROGER!"
"Better not let that one get out," Skiddle smiled over Cho's protest. "If Grimaldi hears she's been confined to bed, he'll probably volunteer to enforce it."
Roger actually blushed as the others-including Cho-snickered.
"Well, you know what I mean. Take it easy before the game. No accidents, no incidents."
Cho gave a flat-handed salute. "Aye-aye, Captain," she laughed.
"Can we get back before the lunch is all gone?" Molina complained. "We'll be up later, Cho."
The team all waved and smiled as they left the hospital wing. Roger Davies stayed behind.
He had walked the team halfway to the door. As he came back to Cho's bed, he seemed very earnest. "I meant it, Cho," Roger was saying. "The last two scores were so close without you, I know we'd have won if we'd played a real Seeker."
"Thank you, Roger," she smiled. "I won't let you down."
"So, how long are you stuck here?"
"Until I give her leave to go!" Madam Pomfrey had returned to the wing. "She had a head-on with a solid piece of furniture, and I wish to be satisfied that she won't collapse in a day or a week. Get on now!"
Roger tried to speak, but Cho held up her hand. "See you in the Common Room tonight."
As Madam Pomfrey escorted Roger to the door, Cho settled back into the bed, recalling his words. "A real Seeker."
Those were the most wonderful words she'd ever heard!
xxx
to be continued in part 43, wherein Cho and other Ravenclaws kick back the night before the big match.
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
xxx
42. High Spirits
"15 January 1994
Dear Mummy and Daddy,
I'm writing on a Saturday from my second home at Hogwarts-the hospital wing. First of all, I assure you that I feel fine, nothing got broken this time, and I'll be back in Ravenclaw House by tonight. And what happened to me wasn't my fault at all. But I've missed yet another Quidditch match! You're probably very pleased, mummy, but I feel that, if I don't keep my hands occupied by writing this letter, I'll only end up throwing something through the window!
To begin at the beginning, then-
Whatever holiday atmosphere we wanted to bring back with us to Hogwarts after the holidays was literally swallowed up when we got to Hogsmeade. Once again, we had to leave the train and return to the castle under the dementors' awful gaze. (Now that I think of it, I don't even know that they have eyes-I've never seen them, at any rate-so speaking of their "gaze" may be totally off the mark.)
Those of us in Ravenclaw House know that this first month back is crucial for us if we want to win the Quidditch Cup and perhaps the House Cup. Today's match is the long-delayed match against Slytherin House; you've read my letters and heard me speak about them, so I'll say no more-except to say that the fact they're still in contention today is only owing to their Seeker playing up a nip on the arm he got from a hippogriff last year. Honestly, he poured it on so thick and so fast that Slytherin didn't have to play at all the past four months. They could just sit back, practice, and probably spy on the rest of us.
But about the wardrobe . . .
The weather has been relatively kind to us, and our own practice sessions had gone well. Roger was confident that we could knock Slytherin decisively out of the running with our first game. It would give Ravenclaw its second win of the year, and all but sew up the Cup for us, since Gryffindor lost so spectacularly to us last autumn. But then, you've heard me on that subject too . . .
So it was with no pressure and no worries that I went into Charms class on Friday. It's a favourite course of mine, and not just because Professor Flitwick is also Head of Ravenclaw. He has a very sweet and even temper and seems to like everyone. The most cross I've ever seen him was last year when Gilderoy Lockhart tried to start up a Dueling Club here-like everything else Lockhart tried here, it was a disaster.
The subject this day was Summoning Spells. We found ourselves in a classroom full of very large pouffes and pillows. The idea was to Summon something substantial, but which wouldn't hurt itself or anything else if it went astray. Of course, as you can imagine, kids will be kids, and soon pouffes were flying all over the room, and gradually, book-bags and other things started flying too. Once Professor Flitwick took his first trip across the room (the first of several!), it became a free-for-all, but nobody minded in the least, least of all Professor Flitwick. The whole thing was like a snowball fight; it was all good fun, and we all landed on the cushions.
Most of us, at any rate.
At one point, a couple of the boys from my class decided to Summon me across the room. I didn't mind, but then one of the girls fought back by Summoning one of the boys who Summoned me. In short, we were headed for a collision. He put his arms out and shoved me to the side. He shoved a bit too hard, because I went headfirst into a wardrobe door.
And that was the last thing I remembered until I woke up a little while ago. I hadn't any idea what time it was, but I certainly recognized the hospital wing. I looked over at Madam Pomfrey, who seemed surprised that I was trying to get up out of the bed.
"Please stay still, Miss Chang! You've had a concussion and been unconscious. You mustn't get up yet!"
To tell the truth, I did feel a bit unsteady on my feet, so I fell back onto the bed. I managed to ask, "How long have I been out?"
"Not long enough, from the looks of it," Madam Pomfrey answered back. "You'll need a bit more rest, I think."
"I meant, how many minutes?"
"Minutes? Child, you were brought in here yesterday!"
I couldn't believe it; that meant that it was Saturday, with the Quidditch match at eleven! The clock in the ward said 10:35, so I knew that-once again-it was all up for me playing Seeker.
None of the team was there, but they'd probably come by while I was unconscious. Now they were getting ready for the match, while I couldn't.
Funnily enough, I wasn't upset about it this time. I realized that this was a freak accident, something that could have happened to anyone. So I asked Madam Pomfrey, as she was going to watch the match, for a scroll and a quill. I'm writing you to pass the time, and not to feel lonely or downhearted about everything. That can happen so easily when you're all alone in the hospital wing, and not even the ghosts come by to keep you company.
I'll send this off now, and tell you later if we won or not.
Best wishes to all
Cho"
Madam Pomfrey had left a window open at the far end of the ward, and Quan Yin had been waiting on the sill for the past few minutes. As soon as Cho started rolling up the scroll, the owl glided over to her bedside. She stroked the bird's feathers a few times before fastening the letter to her leg.
Just as the owl went back out the window, Roger stuck his head in from the hall. "Have a minute?"
The question "How did we do?" was already out of Cho's mouth when she realized: I know how we did, and it didn't go too well. Roger was there alone, after all, and his mood was definitely subdued.
"Well, it could have been worse. 190 to 180, but that means that, if we take Gryffindor next month, we'll have another shot at the Cup."
"Details, Roger; give me details!"
"Same old Slytherin, basically. They set out to get the Seeker, any way they could. The Chasers were hitting Bludgers at him! Jinx was pretty shy by the end, but we rolled up a pretty good score and kept them down to nearly nothing. In the end, Jenkins and Malfoy were clawing for the Snitch like a couple of cats after a mouse, and then Slytherin gets one in the goal just before Malfoy takes the Snitch."
"Sounds exciting at the end, then."
"MISS CHANG, IT WAS A DEAD BRAWL!!"
Madam Hooch! She was standing at the door to the wing, still in her referee's robes, and angrier than Cho had ever seen her. The teacher strode briskly toward Cho's bed.
"I know you couldn't have prevented this, so I'm not going to tell you that. But your House isn't the only one that expects you to do your part."
"Madam, believe me, I . . ."
"Don't interrupt! I've been waiting for you to show yourself on that pitch. You probably don't even understand what's at stake! Well, your time here at Hogwarts has passed the halfway mark and you've nary a match to show for it! We need to see you out there next month!"
Without waiting for a reply, Madam Hooch turned on her heels and marched back out of the wing, leaving Cho literally shaking in the bed.
Roger was pale as well, but tried to make a joke of it: "Well, I didn't expect the Lord of the Admiralty."
It worked. Cho smiled, and let go of the breath she'd been holding. The atmosphere became immediately lighter, just as the rest of the team came into the wing.
"Sorry, Cho," Jinx Jenkins started, "I guess you've heard . . ."
"Nothing to apologize for; I know you did your best."
"All right, everyone!" Davies was acting as if he were giving a pep talk. "We're down but not out. It's three weeks until the next match, when we have it out with Gryffindor. Winner gets the honor of stomping Slytherin's face in the mud!" Cho looked around; the others were nodding and grinning, the defeat forgotten.
"I know the way Wood's mind works. He's going to drive the team without mercy; three practices a week, and more if he can get away with it. We don't need those many, though; we'll just keep to the schedule. Stay rested, stay loose. They'll be the ones feeling the pressure.
"As for you, Cho." She was actually startled to hear him call her name. "I'm issuing a direct order to you. Friday the fourth, I want you to skive off all your classes. I'll fix it with the professors, but your marks are good so you won't suffer. Try to stay in Ravenclaw House; if we can get your meals to the Common Room, we'll do that. Best would be to stay in bed in your dorm all day."
"ROGER!"
"Better not let that one get out," Skiddle smiled over Cho's protest. "If Grimaldi hears she's been confined to bed, he'll probably volunteer to enforce it."
Roger actually blushed as the others-including Cho-snickered.
"Well, you know what I mean. Take it easy before the game. No accidents, no incidents."
Cho gave a flat-handed salute. "Aye-aye, Captain," she laughed.
"Can we get back before the lunch is all gone?" Molina complained. "We'll be up later, Cho."
The team all waved and smiled as they left the hospital wing. Roger Davies stayed behind.
He had walked the team halfway to the door. As he came back to Cho's bed, he seemed very earnest. "I meant it, Cho," Roger was saying. "The last two scores were so close without you, I know we'd have won if we'd played a real Seeker."
"Thank you, Roger," she smiled. "I won't let you down."
"So, how long are you stuck here?"
"Until I give her leave to go!" Madam Pomfrey had returned to the wing. "She had a head-on with a solid piece of furniture, and I wish to be satisfied that she won't collapse in a day or a week. Get on now!"
Roger tried to speak, but Cho held up her hand. "See you in the Common Room tonight."
As Madam Pomfrey escorted Roger to the door, Cho settled back into the bed, recalling his words. "A real Seeker."
Those were the most wonderful words she'd ever heard!
xxx
to be continued in part 43, wherein Cho and other Ravenclaws kick back the night before the big match.
