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
45. The One Responsible
By the time any student gets to be a Fourth Year at Hogwarts, the library is no longer a mystery. If they don't know precisely where a given book can be found, they at least know the layout and the sections, and can find their way from one aisle to another without, for instance, grabbing a book on voodoo at the edge of the Restricted section instead of a treatise on the history of cats as familiars.
This knowledge also comes in handy when one does not wish to be found, and on 5 February Cho Chang wished desperately not to be found. She lurked in corners of the stadium until the Ravenclaw changing room was empty, dashed in, shed her robes, and dashed out again. She avoided the noisy lunch in the Great Hall and didn't dare go to the Common Room, or even back to Ravenclaw at all.
She lost herself among the more esoteric volumes in the library: Surrounded by accounts of mermaids and the uses of St. Elmo's fire in the nautical magic section, she sat on the floor with her head in her arms, prepared to move if she heard a sound yet not really paying attention.
She stayed in the library until Madam Pince called closing time. Then she stepped briskly out with her head down, taking a very long, wandering route to get back to Ravenclaw House. She got past the tapestry (the password was "fornix"), touched the spine of Confucius, and walked briskly through the Common Room toward the steps to her dorm.
"About time."
Roger had pulled up a chair next to the stairs to the girls' dorms.
"Look, Roger, can we talk about the match tomorrow?"
"No, we can't. You went missing the moment it ended and now you slink back in here because you're trying to avoid talking about it."
"You're right; are you happy? Tomorrow, please."
"No, it's got to be now, no matter how you feel."
"For the record, then, I feel awful. I couldn't feel worse if a dementor came in here, knocked me down and sat on my stomach. Can't this wait?"
"No it can't, for one simple reason: I've been there before. Now sit down, please."
Cho hesitated, and in that moment of hesitation lost her resolve to avoid Roger for as long as possible. She shrugged and sat across from him, on an old Victorian love seat.
"First of all, I'm not going to tell you off because of today's game. You didn't do anything wrong."
"No, I just turned away at the wrong moment and handed the Snitch to Gryffindor."
"We all saw it . . ."
"And the worst part is, they weren't even real dementors!" Cho couldn't sit still; she was up and pacing in front of Roger. ""I should have been able to see that! I saw it all clearly enough after, of course, when it was too late! It was our last chance at the Cup and I cost us that chance!"
"If you're quite finished, Miss Chang, I have just one question: do you want to resign from the team, or do I kick you off?"
The question froze Cho in her pacing. As much as she blamed herself for the day's loss, she still wanted to be on the team-to prove herself, now more than ever. All afternoon and evening she'd felt that she had to resign, but being asked to do it now felt as if she'd be ripping her heart out of her chest.
"Will you please sit back down and listen?" Roger smiled. Cho did so, no longer feeling the anger at herself. In fact, she wasn't sure what she was feeling. "First off, it may have been a stupid disguise in hindsight, but you weren't the only one fooled by it. Potter was, too; I think he's been expecting dementors all year. And if you thought the Snitch wasn't worth taking on three dementors, that just means you're sensible."
"Don't try to cheer me up on that one, Roger. Harry won by not being sensible."
"And that's the only way he won. I've talked to some people at the match, and not just our team. I talked to Hooch, and to Hagrid who's been here forever, and I even sought out Cedric Diggory. They all said the same thing: that you kept Potter off the Snitch far longer than they would have predicted, especially with him on a Firebolt. You played a good game."
Cho didn't want to take her eyes off of her nails. "You have to say that."
"No I don't. I'm not just talking as your Captain. I like to think I'm also a friend."
For the first time since the game, Cho's mouth cracked into a smile. "Of course you are, Roger. It's funny, but I remember how angry you were when I first got here, how absolutely opposed you were to my getting on the team. That's what makes me think that you're one of the best friends I have here."
Roger's face lit up. "Well, high time you noticed. Anyway, I was going to say that you're not the first player to get browned off about a loss. I've felt it; we all have at times. And here's the proof." Roger reached between the cushions of his chair and pulled out "The Broom Gets All the Credit". He handed it to Cho, who noticed the bookmark on page 107. She hardly even needed to open the book; she knew exactly which passage he meant:
"Winning a match, especially an important match, may be the greatest emotional thrill one can feel, but, by the same token, a loss can send one to the depths of despair. Yet time and experience bring maturity and perspective, and it was only later in my career that I truly appreciated the wisdom of the poet who instructed us to 'meet with Triumph and Disaster/And treat those two impostors just the same'. We did not devote our lives to the Crowning Sport of the Wizarding World in order to feel despair or exaltation. There are, believe me, many safer and saner ways of doing both."
When Cho finally closed the book and looked up at Roger, she was smiling and crying at once. "Sorry, Roger. I've just been this daft little twit about the whole thing."
"What you've been," Roger said, leaning forward in his chair so that his knees almost touched Cho's, "is getting over your first match. We all go through it. Next year it'll be different."
"Next year, Ravenclaw wins back the Cup."
"You going in for Divination, then?"
Cho and Roger simply smiled at each other for a minute. Cho felt as if she was waiting for Roger to make the next move, and she didn't know quite what that next move would be . . .
"What's all this then!"
They both jumped as Vincent Krixlow walked from the bookcase to the Common Room. "Not interrupting anything rude and improper, am I? If so, please carry on; don't mind me."
"This is about Quidditch!" Roger shouted back, his face a deep pink.
"But Quidditch is a team sport," Vincent went on, "so if you need me to join in . . ."
Cho simply drew her wand and pointed it in his general direction. "Two words, Vincent: Jelly. Legs."
Vincent thought better of intruding any further and crossed to the stairs to the boys' dorms. "Well, think I'll call it a night. Remember, you two: if you can't be good, be careful, and if you can't be careful, just don't name it after me." With that, he dashed up the stairs.
Roger was laughing in spite of his anger. "How long has he been like this?"
"Since our first day here. He's incorrigible!" Cho too was laughing as she stood up. "I guess I'll see you in the morning, Roger. And, thanks for everything."
"Think nothing of it. But be prepared; tomorrow, that game will be the main topic of conversation."
xxx
But it wasn't.
Cho slept in that Sunday, even though she heard whispers and murmurs from her mates through the bed curtains. By the time she was fully awake and pulled open the curtains, the other girls were all awake and gone. Unusual for a Sunday. Cho quickly dressed, washed up and went downstairs.
Several groups of Ravenclaws were in the Common Room arguing.
"Sucks we have to wait, just because of Gryffindor."
"If anything really happened to Gryffindor!"
"Come off it! You think they'd lie about a thing like that?"
"But Weasley and the knight in the picture both said so!"
"I know that knight, and he's a total nutcase! Hardly knows what century this is; you think he'd know Sirius Black?"
"What about Sirius Black?" Cho asked
One of the arguing students, a Sixth-Year named Ponsonby Britt, turned to Cho. "Rumour is that he got back into the castle last night."
"Rumour? The bed curtains didn't cut themselves!" answered a Fifth-Year, Greta Oxblog.
"Whose bed curtains?"
Greta turned to Cho. "The young Weasley, Ron. The one who's always hanging about with Harry Potter."
"How did Black get into Gryffindor, much less the castle?"
"As for Hogwarts, nobody knows. But apparently he found a written list of all the Gryffindor passwords and just read down them."
"And THAT's what I refuse to believe!" Britt shouted. "What are the odds of an intruder-even one who manages to get past the dementors and into the castle-conveniently finding a list of the passwords and knowing exactly where to find the House? This only makes sense as just another practical joke by the twins."
"Well, if you want improbability, try this: an hour or two earlier and he would have walked right in on their victory party. Why did he show up at exactly the right day and exactly the right time, and go to exactly the wrong bed?!"
"You think he meant to kill Harry?" Libby Foggly had wandered over from another group of students.
"What's the percentage in killing Ron? I mean, he's hardly the hero who vanquished anything at all, is he?"
"It only makes sense if it was a stunt pulled by the twins, I tell you," Britt insisted. "They knew how to get into the House, and they knew which dorm to be in."
"But Ron Weasley saw someone answering Black's description; so did the painting!"
"A simple Disguising Charm," Britt replied airily. "Anyone here could do it."
"Then why pose as Sirius Black?" Greta persisted. "They had to know it would turn the castle upside-down, put everyone on edge, and just bring the dementors even closer to actually being in Hogwarts. Besides, those two can never manage a straight face; if it was one of their tricks, they'd be laughing their arses off."
"It simply can't have been Black! The whole thing's just impossible!"
"Now, now, Pon, remember Rowena's Rule."
Cho wandered away, remembering Rowena's Rule herself, an old saying attributed to one of the Four Founders of Hogwarts: "If you eliminate the impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."
Just then, Professor Flitwick came in through the bookcase. "Once again," he announced, "a search of the castle has revealed nothing, so the halls have been deemed safe for the moment. We'll be adding additional security measures shortly. In the meantime, go on down and get some breakfast."
By now Cho, who had eaten almost nothing before the match and nothing at all after it, was definitely interested in breakfast. As she neared the doors of the Great Hall, though, she saw Gryffindor Chaser Angelina Johnson coming out. She was talking with a couple of other Gryffindors, but stopped when she saw Cho.
"Hey, Cho!" the black girl called out.
"Yes?" Cho looked up at her.
Angelina was nodding her head. "Good match."
Cho smiled. "Thanks; you, too."
If you're not a player, Cho thought as she went in to breakfast, you don't understand.
xxx
to be continued in part 46, wherein Gryffindor plays for the Cup, the students take their exams, and Cho and Roger make plans for the summer
A/N: The Muggle poet quoted by Eunice Murray is Rudyard Kipling, and the line is from his poem "If". As for Rowena's Rule, it is one of the best- known sayings of Sherlock Holmes. Of course, nobody knows where he went to school . . .
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
45. The One Responsible
By the time any student gets to be a Fourth Year at Hogwarts, the library is no longer a mystery. If they don't know precisely where a given book can be found, they at least know the layout and the sections, and can find their way from one aisle to another without, for instance, grabbing a book on voodoo at the edge of the Restricted section instead of a treatise on the history of cats as familiars.
This knowledge also comes in handy when one does not wish to be found, and on 5 February Cho Chang wished desperately not to be found. She lurked in corners of the stadium until the Ravenclaw changing room was empty, dashed in, shed her robes, and dashed out again. She avoided the noisy lunch in the Great Hall and didn't dare go to the Common Room, or even back to Ravenclaw at all.
She lost herself among the more esoteric volumes in the library: Surrounded by accounts of mermaids and the uses of St. Elmo's fire in the nautical magic section, she sat on the floor with her head in her arms, prepared to move if she heard a sound yet not really paying attention.
She stayed in the library until Madam Pince called closing time. Then she stepped briskly out with her head down, taking a very long, wandering route to get back to Ravenclaw House. She got past the tapestry (the password was "fornix"), touched the spine of Confucius, and walked briskly through the Common Room toward the steps to her dorm.
"About time."
Roger had pulled up a chair next to the stairs to the girls' dorms.
"Look, Roger, can we talk about the match tomorrow?"
"No, we can't. You went missing the moment it ended and now you slink back in here because you're trying to avoid talking about it."
"You're right; are you happy? Tomorrow, please."
"No, it's got to be now, no matter how you feel."
"For the record, then, I feel awful. I couldn't feel worse if a dementor came in here, knocked me down and sat on my stomach. Can't this wait?"
"No it can't, for one simple reason: I've been there before. Now sit down, please."
Cho hesitated, and in that moment of hesitation lost her resolve to avoid Roger for as long as possible. She shrugged and sat across from him, on an old Victorian love seat.
"First of all, I'm not going to tell you off because of today's game. You didn't do anything wrong."
"No, I just turned away at the wrong moment and handed the Snitch to Gryffindor."
"We all saw it . . ."
"And the worst part is, they weren't even real dementors!" Cho couldn't sit still; she was up and pacing in front of Roger. ""I should have been able to see that! I saw it all clearly enough after, of course, when it was too late! It was our last chance at the Cup and I cost us that chance!"
"If you're quite finished, Miss Chang, I have just one question: do you want to resign from the team, or do I kick you off?"
The question froze Cho in her pacing. As much as she blamed herself for the day's loss, she still wanted to be on the team-to prove herself, now more than ever. All afternoon and evening she'd felt that she had to resign, but being asked to do it now felt as if she'd be ripping her heart out of her chest.
"Will you please sit back down and listen?" Roger smiled. Cho did so, no longer feeling the anger at herself. In fact, she wasn't sure what she was feeling. "First off, it may have been a stupid disguise in hindsight, but you weren't the only one fooled by it. Potter was, too; I think he's been expecting dementors all year. And if you thought the Snitch wasn't worth taking on three dementors, that just means you're sensible."
"Don't try to cheer me up on that one, Roger. Harry won by not being sensible."
"And that's the only way he won. I've talked to some people at the match, and not just our team. I talked to Hooch, and to Hagrid who's been here forever, and I even sought out Cedric Diggory. They all said the same thing: that you kept Potter off the Snitch far longer than they would have predicted, especially with him on a Firebolt. You played a good game."
Cho didn't want to take her eyes off of her nails. "You have to say that."
"No I don't. I'm not just talking as your Captain. I like to think I'm also a friend."
For the first time since the game, Cho's mouth cracked into a smile. "Of course you are, Roger. It's funny, but I remember how angry you were when I first got here, how absolutely opposed you were to my getting on the team. That's what makes me think that you're one of the best friends I have here."
Roger's face lit up. "Well, high time you noticed. Anyway, I was going to say that you're not the first player to get browned off about a loss. I've felt it; we all have at times. And here's the proof." Roger reached between the cushions of his chair and pulled out "The Broom Gets All the Credit". He handed it to Cho, who noticed the bookmark on page 107. She hardly even needed to open the book; she knew exactly which passage he meant:
"Winning a match, especially an important match, may be the greatest emotional thrill one can feel, but, by the same token, a loss can send one to the depths of despair. Yet time and experience bring maturity and perspective, and it was only later in my career that I truly appreciated the wisdom of the poet who instructed us to 'meet with Triumph and Disaster/And treat those two impostors just the same'. We did not devote our lives to the Crowning Sport of the Wizarding World in order to feel despair or exaltation. There are, believe me, many safer and saner ways of doing both."
When Cho finally closed the book and looked up at Roger, she was smiling and crying at once. "Sorry, Roger. I've just been this daft little twit about the whole thing."
"What you've been," Roger said, leaning forward in his chair so that his knees almost touched Cho's, "is getting over your first match. We all go through it. Next year it'll be different."
"Next year, Ravenclaw wins back the Cup."
"You going in for Divination, then?"
Cho and Roger simply smiled at each other for a minute. Cho felt as if she was waiting for Roger to make the next move, and she didn't know quite what that next move would be . . .
"What's all this then!"
They both jumped as Vincent Krixlow walked from the bookcase to the Common Room. "Not interrupting anything rude and improper, am I? If so, please carry on; don't mind me."
"This is about Quidditch!" Roger shouted back, his face a deep pink.
"But Quidditch is a team sport," Vincent went on, "so if you need me to join in . . ."
Cho simply drew her wand and pointed it in his general direction. "Two words, Vincent: Jelly. Legs."
Vincent thought better of intruding any further and crossed to the stairs to the boys' dorms. "Well, think I'll call it a night. Remember, you two: if you can't be good, be careful, and if you can't be careful, just don't name it after me." With that, he dashed up the stairs.
Roger was laughing in spite of his anger. "How long has he been like this?"
"Since our first day here. He's incorrigible!" Cho too was laughing as she stood up. "I guess I'll see you in the morning, Roger. And, thanks for everything."
"Think nothing of it. But be prepared; tomorrow, that game will be the main topic of conversation."
xxx
But it wasn't.
Cho slept in that Sunday, even though she heard whispers and murmurs from her mates through the bed curtains. By the time she was fully awake and pulled open the curtains, the other girls were all awake and gone. Unusual for a Sunday. Cho quickly dressed, washed up and went downstairs.
Several groups of Ravenclaws were in the Common Room arguing.
"Sucks we have to wait, just because of Gryffindor."
"If anything really happened to Gryffindor!"
"Come off it! You think they'd lie about a thing like that?"
"But Weasley and the knight in the picture both said so!"
"I know that knight, and he's a total nutcase! Hardly knows what century this is; you think he'd know Sirius Black?"
"What about Sirius Black?" Cho asked
One of the arguing students, a Sixth-Year named Ponsonby Britt, turned to Cho. "Rumour is that he got back into the castle last night."
"Rumour? The bed curtains didn't cut themselves!" answered a Fifth-Year, Greta Oxblog.
"Whose bed curtains?"
Greta turned to Cho. "The young Weasley, Ron. The one who's always hanging about with Harry Potter."
"How did Black get into Gryffindor, much less the castle?"
"As for Hogwarts, nobody knows. But apparently he found a written list of all the Gryffindor passwords and just read down them."
"And THAT's what I refuse to believe!" Britt shouted. "What are the odds of an intruder-even one who manages to get past the dementors and into the castle-conveniently finding a list of the passwords and knowing exactly where to find the House? This only makes sense as just another practical joke by the twins."
"Well, if you want improbability, try this: an hour or two earlier and he would have walked right in on their victory party. Why did he show up at exactly the right day and exactly the right time, and go to exactly the wrong bed?!"
"You think he meant to kill Harry?" Libby Foggly had wandered over from another group of students.
"What's the percentage in killing Ron? I mean, he's hardly the hero who vanquished anything at all, is he?"
"It only makes sense if it was a stunt pulled by the twins, I tell you," Britt insisted. "They knew how to get into the House, and they knew which dorm to be in."
"But Ron Weasley saw someone answering Black's description; so did the painting!"
"A simple Disguising Charm," Britt replied airily. "Anyone here could do it."
"Then why pose as Sirius Black?" Greta persisted. "They had to know it would turn the castle upside-down, put everyone on edge, and just bring the dementors even closer to actually being in Hogwarts. Besides, those two can never manage a straight face; if it was one of their tricks, they'd be laughing their arses off."
"It simply can't have been Black! The whole thing's just impossible!"
"Now, now, Pon, remember Rowena's Rule."
Cho wandered away, remembering Rowena's Rule herself, an old saying attributed to one of the Four Founders of Hogwarts: "If you eliminate the impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."
Just then, Professor Flitwick came in through the bookcase. "Once again," he announced, "a search of the castle has revealed nothing, so the halls have been deemed safe for the moment. We'll be adding additional security measures shortly. In the meantime, go on down and get some breakfast."
By now Cho, who had eaten almost nothing before the match and nothing at all after it, was definitely interested in breakfast. As she neared the doors of the Great Hall, though, she saw Gryffindor Chaser Angelina Johnson coming out. She was talking with a couple of other Gryffindors, but stopped when she saw Cho.
"Hey, Cho!" the black girl called out.
"Yes?" Cho looked up at her.
Angelina was nodding her head. "Good match."
Cho smiled. "Thanks; you, too."
If you're not a player, Cho thought as she went in to breakfast, you don't understand.
xxx
to be continued in part 46, wherein Gryffindor plays for the Cup, the students take their exams, and Cho and Roger make plans for the summer
A/N: The Muggle poet quoted by Eunice Murray is Rudyard Kipling, and the line is from his poem "If". As for Rowena's Rule, it is one of the best- known sayings of Sherlock Holmes. Of course, nobody knows where he went to school . . .
