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-13

Spoilers: Everything

xxx

47. A Quidditch Summer 1: Diagon Alley

The entire month of July was hot, humid and tedious. Hardly anyone ventured out into Diagon Alley for weeks, and Cho, sitting behind the counter of her family's herb shoppe, felt utterly alone. Chairman Miao would occasionally walk across the counter, or sleep in Cho's lap, or stretch out on the immaculate wooden floor. Business was very slow.

Still, Cho accepted it as the price she had to pay. As long as she was still able to get away two afternoons a week to keep in practice for Quidditch, she knew that this was her parents' way of making sure that she earned their trip to the World Cup in August.

She followed the playoffs in the Daily Prophet along with the rest of England's wizarding world: it had all started with thirty-two teams from around the world, playing in far-flung venues, seasoned veterans and ambitious newcomers all competing for the Cup. There had been memorable moments already: France's win over Chile in the first round after two rain- soaked hours of play; the head-on collision between the Seekers from Germany and New Zealand in the second round, and the controversial ruling that New Zealand won by clinging to more of the Snitch than Germany; the decisive Spanish win over Venezuela followed by Spain's decisive defeat at the hands of the seemingly unstoppable Peru.

It was the middle of August. Cho's mother Lotus was adding some fresh eglantine to the displays. Cho was just reading about the two semi-final matches to be played that week: Bulgaria/New Zealand and Ireland/Peru. The winners would fight for the Cup in exactly two weeks, and she'd be there to see it!

The shop bell rang; Cho was on her feet and bowing toward the door before she even brought her eyes up to see who it was. It was a man with dark skin, short hair and a closely-cropped dark beard. He wore an impeccably tailored Muggle suit, although his wand was clipped to his belt. He was followed into the shop by two women whose black dresses covered them from shoulder to floor, and whose black hoods and veils masked all but their eyes.

"As-Salaam alaikum," Cho greeted the visitors.

The man seemed surprised, but replied, "Wa-Alaikum Salaam."

As he began to speak, Cho smiled and said, "Sorry, sir, but that's all I know."

"Don't worry," the shorter of the women spoke up, "it's all you need to know." The woman moved her veil a bit to show her face.

"RAINA!" This was only the sixth week of school holidays, but the girls hugged each other as if they'd been separated for years. They started bombarding each other with questions, until Lotus cleared her throat a bit loudly.

Cho came to herself. "So sorry, mother. This is Raina al-Qaba, one of the girls in my year at Hogwarts. We're both in Ravenclaw. I'm sure I've spoken of her."

"Pardon me, Cho," Raina said, "but I'd better take over the introductions." She turned to the man in the suit, who looked very serious, almost angry. "This is my father, Muammar al-Qaba, and my mother, Parvin."

Lotus bowed. "It is an honour to meet you both."

The expression on Muammar's face didn't change a bit as he spoke. "We came to shop for school supplies for my daughter, and it occurred to me that, in my line of work, I need assurances that certain herbs and medicinals will be imported to England on a regular basis, with no challenges at Customs. Perhaps we can discuss this?"

"As long as it is within Muggle law and wizarding law, we are at your service," Lotus bowed again.

"I am a businessman of impeccable reputation."

"I have no doubt." It sounded to Cho as if they were insulting each other, yet they did not show it. "Perhaps we can discusss this further in the parlour upstairs. Cho, prepare some iced tea for our guests, then come back and watch the store while we talk."

Cho couldn't complain; it was a sensible arrangement. Besides, she could use it to her advantage. "Mother, could Raina stay in the shoppe with me? We have so many things to talk about."

Cho's mother glanced at Raina's father, who gave a barely detectable nod. "Fine, after you've prepared the tea."

A few minutes later, Cho rushed down the steps from the parlour to the shoppe. Raina had removed the veil from her face, although the rest of her was still covered.

"Is that . . . all right?" Cho asked, vaguely pointing at Raina's face.

For the first time she could remember, she saw Raina's face take on a look of anger. "That veil was for him, not for God," she muttered. Cho guessed that she'd had some sort of argument with her father.

A second later, Raina was her old self as she turned to Cho. "But I got my books, plus the new robes!"

"What new robes?"

"Didn't you get your school letter yet? Mine arrived last night."

"I haven't checked today yet. Maybe Quan Yin stopped along the way."

Raina pulled the Hogwarts letter out of her pocket. "Here's the mystery." She was pointing to a line requiring "Dress robes, suitable for formal occasions".

"What sort of formal occasion do you think they'd be planning?" Raina asked.

"I haven't the foggiest," Cho said. "We've had parties and dances before, and none of them required dress robes."

"Maybe the Minister is coming for a visit!"

"No, I think he was there last year, with all the Sirius Black trouble. I thought I saw him in Hogsmeade, anyway."

"Unless it's something to do with the World Cup!"

"You think so?"

"Makes sense, doesn't it? Ireland will probably win the Cup, and they could come home by way of Hogwarts, or stop by just after school starts, maybe put on an exhibition match! They know we're a great school and we put a lot of stock in Quidditch."

"Well, I hardly think the Irish team . . ."

"Besides, that Seeker of theirs, Moran, may be looking for a girlfriend who cares as much about Quidditch as he does."

"Raina, please! I think I'd like someone a little closer to my own age."

"Who, Roger? Maybe Diggory?"

"No comment."

"Or maybe Harry Potter. OR, maybe you like Malfoy!"

Cho playfully swung at Raina. "Take that back or I'll Hex you!" Cho laughed.

"Allah wil protect me-and then I'll Hex you!"

"And then I'll Hex you!"

"And then I'll Hex YOU!!"

The two girls chased each other around the shoppe, laughing harder than they had in a long time. They almost didn't hear the steps on the stairs. Quickly, Cho put a serious look on her face, while Raina reattached her veil.

Muammar barely looked at his daughter as he told Mrs. Chang, "Thank you for an enjoyable time. I will send your husband the necessary papers." With that, he turned and left the shoppe, with Raina falling into line behind him.

xxx

As the Cup Finals drew closer, the crowds in Diagon Alley grew larger. A few went to the stadium to camp out a week or two in advance, but most of the others waited. Plus, wizarding visitors from around the world were stopping off to see London, which meant a trip to Diagon Alley.

One week after her meeting with Raina, Cho decided that, if she didn't get her new mitts now, she might never have the chance. The stores would be hopelessly crowded after the Cup. So, she got her mother to agree to letting her leave the shoppe for an hour to go to Quality Quidditch Supplies.

The store was being watched that day by an old wizard, one of the owners who seldom tended the store himself. He was explaining to a customer, wishing to buy an indoor mini-Quaffle for his children, that he would wait until the last day to go to the Cup. "I'd pay to see some Quidditch, but not a bunch of folks on a campout."

Not in a good mood today, are we, thought Cho as she started to try on mitts. Just then, the customer, who spoke with a heavy Australian accent, asked: "Didn't you used to play before?"

"Of course I did!" the old man said, still sounding angry. "Seeker for Wimbourne back in the Sixties, before my eyes went bad and they had to retire me. Listen! You want to hear something that'll disgust yeh? Go down to Dorset there and ask them Wasps they got now who ol' Gridpipe was. Don't none of them know anymore; don't none of them remember." The Australian took his purchases and left, but the old man kept on. "Now it's all flash and good looks; the team started going downhill when they took on that Bagman, and I'll say it to my dying day. Nobody even knows anymore what two things yeh need to be a Seeker!"

Without even thinking about it, Cho spoke up: "Skills and honour."

She turned toward the old man, speaking as she slowly walked toward him. "Honour without skills is bravery, and skills without honour is mere technique, and these alone do not catch the Snitch. They must work together, so that the Seeker can play the game as it was meant to be played."

The old man's face had changed while Cho spoke. Now he was smiling, as if he beheld an angel. "Here," he said softly, "how old are you, anyway?"

"Fifteen."

"I would have taken yeh for younger. Do you know how long it's been since a fifteen-year-old quoted Eunice Murray back to me?"

"I fell in love with the book when I was ten."

Just then, a group of children burst into the store. They were four or five boys, and one girl, about age eight. They grabbed some World Cup banners and took them to the counter, with an argument going on all the while.

"There is not!" one of the boys kept shouting.

"There is too!" the girl kept shouting back.

"There is not!"

"There is TOO!"

"What are you lot on about?" Gridpipe asked as he reached for their money.

The girl quickly told him: "They keep saying there's no girl Seekers but they're WRONG!"

"But there AREN'T any girl Seekers!"

"Oh?" Gridpipe asked. "What about Kineen for Holyhead? She's a girl Seeker."

"Holyhead has only witches anyway; that doesn't count."

"Then what about Eunice Murray?"

"Who's she when she's at home?"

"Only the best Seeker Montrose ever had, back in the Thirties . . ."

"But that's old history; I mean now."

"Excuse me," Cho said, "but I'm a Seeker."

The arguing stopped as the children stared at Cho. The boy finally asked, "Who do you play for, then?"

"My House team at Hogwarts Academy."

"That's school Quidditch. That's not real Quidditch."

"I beg your pardon," Cho smiled, "but when I fly, the wind in my face is real, and when it storms, the rain in my robes is real, and when I catch the Snitch, and feel it humming in my hand, that's very real."

"You see?!" smirked the little girl.

The boy digested this for a minute, then reacted as a boy his age might: by rearing back, punching Cho on the arm, then running out of the store, with the other boys right behind him.

Cho sighed and turned back to Gridpipe, when she felt a tug on the sleeve of her robe. The little girl was still standing there.

"Are you really a Seeker?" she asked barely above a whisper.

"I really am," Cho smiled.

Then the girl smiled. "Then I'M gonna be one too!"

"Good for you. It's hard work, but give it your best, and I know you'll be a good Seeker."

The child nodded her head, then turned and ran out of the store.

Cho looked at the door for a while, and at the people passing on the other side, before turning back to Gridpipe. "Now, how much for these?"

The old man smiled. "This just happens to be our special sale day, when we give free mitts to Hogwarts Seekers."

"No; I'm sorry. Thank you, but I insist on paying my own way."

"Then could you do an old man a favour? Send me an owl when you play your next match. I think it'd be worth the trip to see that."

"Of course I'll remember."

Cho was biting her lip as she gathered her change and her new mitts and walked down Diagon Alley. If she started crying in front of Mister Gridpipe, he might not understand how happy she really was.

xxx

to be continued in part 48, wherein Cho watches the World Cup, is taught an unexpected lesson and sees her parents in a completely different light