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

43. The Night Before

The next three weeks were unlike any that Cho had ever spent preparing for a match. The Ravenclaws had their usual practices, while Oliver Wood put the Gryffindors through no less than five practices a week! It seemed absurd, but Cho admitted that it was probably also necessary since Harry Potter no longer had his Nimbus Two Thousand. He'd been practicing on a Shooting Star, an old school broom that was older and slower than Cho's Comet Two Sixty.

"I can't believe he's really riding that old horse into battle," Jinx said at dinner the Wednesday night before the match. "It has to be a trick. No Seeker would use it."

"Well, if he's got a proper broom, where is it?" Becksnee asked. "Hey, Rog, d'you think Wood might keep a Nimbus or something hidden until the match?"

"Nah. He wouldn't let Potter get used to one broom and then switch him at the last moment. He's on that Shooting Star because that's all they've got."

Roger went back to attacking his roast chicken. Cho spent that dinner as she'd spent many dinners the past two weeks: staring at the back of the head of Harry Potter.

xxx

On Friday, February 4, Cho awoke to find a tray of food on her writing desk. Jan was just putting on her robes. "Right, then. Yeh know the orders fer the day. Roger asked us teh make sure yeh miss ev'ry single class today."

"Oh, this is ridiculous!" Cho laughed as she started to get out of bed.

"Oh no it's not!" Diana Fairweather wagged a finger at her. "Flitwick is doing Confusion Charms today. Just your luck you'd take a heavy dose and start chasing Bludgers tomorrow instead of the Snitch."

"Fine; you've made your point. But this is absolutely the LAST time!"

"Of course it is," said Letitia. "We just want you to break that run of bad luck; after that, you're on your own."

"Which is how we'll leave you," Libby said. "But we'll be back during the breaks."

"Meanwhile, yeh can do what Ravenclaws do best: read a book."

That's easy to say, Cho thought, when her mates had gone to class and she was alone in the Common Room. But look at all the books. Which one do I curl up with at a time like this? She smiled as she realized that the question was so simple it answered itself. On the eve of her first official Hogwarts match, there was only one book: "The Broom Gets All the Credit", by Eunice Murray.

As Cho settled into the day bed and opened the book, she realized that she hadn't read it in ages, but didn't need to. She'd practically memorized the book. And yet, as she read, she realized with a start that she was reading things differently. Certain passages had changed, or rather her experience had changed, and made her look at the book in a new light.

Cho realized that she now had experiences she didn't have when she found the book, which was-heavens-five years ago?! As she read about Murray being battered by Bludgers, she could remember how her own bruises felt after rough practices. When Murray wrote of the loneliness of waiting in hospital to be healed, Cho remembered her own days and nights in the wing. And when Murray wrote of the rush of the wind, the cold bite of the rain, the vibrating of the Snitch in the hand-Cho had felt it all, and remembered it all.

This wasn't her old favorite book, but a new book, made new by her life experiences. And Cho found that she loved it all the more.

She read through the day as she had read through the night when she was younger. She didn't even notice lunch, much less stop reading for it. When it came to dinner, once again her mates brought food up from the Great Hall, although she hardly ate a bite. She hardly even paid attention to what else was happening in the Common Room-

until Roger Davies stormed in.

He came in looking as if he wanted to fight a mountain troll, and that the troll might come off the worse for it. His jaw tight, his teeth bared, his fists clenched, he paced the Common Room, looking perhaps for something to throw, until he stopped in his tracks, threw back his head and yelled:

"F---ING FIREBOLT!"

Cho and her friends in the Common Room just stared at him nervously.

"I can translate that." It was Erasmus Skittle. "He saw Gryffindor practicing at the stadium this evening. Potter's got himself a new broom after all."

"And it's a Firebolt?" Cho asked.

Roger blurted out, "F---ING FIREBOLT!"

"Top of the line," Skiddle nodded. "Going to be tough to beat."

Roger seemed to come out of a trance and rushed over to Cho. "This changes everything! We've got to get you a whole new strategy. We need a practice session tonight!"

"Roger! Roger!" Cho laughed as she tried to keep from being pulled out of the day bed. "Get a grip on yourself! Just have a seat."

Roger looked at Cho rather dubiously but took the comfy chair next to the day bed.

"You did the right thing in telling me to take the day off. It gave me a chance to reread Eunice Murray, and she's got the correct attitude toward this. Listen." Cho turned to a dog-eared page and started reading aloud:

"If I'd spent my salary forever buying 'the best broom money can buy', I'd have spent more time shopping for brooms than playing the game. The fact is that a Seeker doesn't play against a broom, but against another Seeker. The broom is only part of the Seeker, and not such a large part at that. There is so much more to consider: the experience, the reflexes, the sharp eye and the sure hand. We've all lost to slower brooms and managed to beat out faster ones, because in the final analysis it's one Seeker against another."

Cho closed the book and looked at Roger. He was staring at his lap, his cheeks burning.

"Remember in June, Roger? I beat Malfoy and he was riding an Oh One. That broom makes my Comet look just as ridiculous as a Firebolt would. But that's not what we have to worry about tomorrow. I have to worry about the Snitch; you have to worry about the Quaffle. And we both have to play better than Gryffindor, regardless of who's riding what. Really, Roger, we're going to be fine."

Roger looked up. "You think so?"

"I know it," Cho smiled.

Roger finally smiled. "Thanks, Cho. You know, you're the . . ." Roger suddenly stopped himself, as he looked around the Common Room and realized that there were two dozen Ravenclaws listening to him. "See ya tomorrow," he said hastily as he got up and ran up the stairs toward his dorm. After a minute, though, those in the Common Room could hear a voice come down the steps: "F---ing Firebolt."

xxx

Hardly any studying got done that evening in the Common Room. Cho and friends had taken over the territory near the day bed, and seemed determined to make each other laugh, no matter what it took. Others joined them, including (and Cho was overjoyed to see her) Penelope Clearwater. They told jokes, they told stories (true or not, it didn't seem to matter), and they drank bottle after hidden bottle of butterbeer.

By ten that evening, they were running out of steam but they kept on; at this point, they were making up slogans for Ravenclaw House.

"Ravenclaw: We Fly While the Others Try!"

"No: 'We Fly While the Others Cry!'"

"If at first you don't succeed, you're not Ravenclaw!"

A Third Year had been hanging about the edges of the group, and now stepped up. Sally Fawcett was clever enough to be Sorted into Ravenclaw, but turned out to be precocious in other areas as well. Vincent Krixlow had started referring to her as "Fawcett by name and by nature, because it's so easy to turn her on."

"I'd like to propose a toast," she began.

"Ah well, we haven't had many of those tonight, have we?" joked Sixth Year Sybil Gogrinch. In fact, they'd toasted just about everything for the past two hours.

"It'll be the old poem," Sally went on, "with a few changes."

The "old poem" was a bit of verse someone had embroidered some time in the 1600s and was subsequently framed and hung on a wall in the Common Room:

The Slytherin Snake is deceitful and sly The Gryffindor Lion is strong but can fall The Hufflepuff Badger will barely get by While the Ravenclaw Eagle soars over them all!

"I'll need your help," Sally was saying as she moved next to the framed poem. "Read each line aloud, then follow my lead. Off you go!"

Not knowing what was planned, the girls began:

"The Slytherin Snake is deceitful and sly . . ."

"In bed", Fawcett added.

About half of the Ravenclaw girls burst out laughing. Cho was too surprised to laugh.

At a gesture from Sally they went on: "The Gryffindor Lion is strong but can fall . . ."

"In bed."

This time all the girls were laughing. Some of them could hardly catch their breath to move on to the next line: "The Hufflepuff Badger will barely get by . . ."

"In bed!" Some of the girls now joined Sally in adding the new words. Cho was laughing so hard she almost cried as she shouted out the last line with the others:

"BUT THE RAVENCLAW EAGLE SOARS OVER THEM ALL IN BED!"

They all dissolved in laughter, and were content to be scolded by a Prefect a few minutes later that it was time for them all to get some rest.

Cho was literally stumbling up the steps to her dorm. Such were the effects of butterbeer: a kind of liquid butterscotch that, whether hot or cold, when taken in sufficient quantities makes the drinker pleasantly sleepy and at peace with the world. Cho didn't even bother to change out of her casual slacks and pullover sweater; she didn't even bother to brush out her hair. She simply fell onto her bed and was happily asleep in an instant.

xxx

to be continued in part 44, wherein Cho finally, FINALLY . . .