Cho awoke to the warmth of the sunlight stretching across her face in a luxurious embrace. She laid in her bed, eyes half lidded, slowly letting the ceiling above her creep back into familiarity. She had woken in this same spot, cocooned by the same silken blankets, for the last month and a half. This brought no comfort. She got up, unwarded the doors to her chambers which led straight to the courtyard, and opened them. It was summer and the sub-tropical air was getting heavy with the promise of evening moisture.
Every summer and winter since she began school at Hogwarts, Cho had stayed at her ancestral home in Guilim learning Chinese magic techniques from her grandfather to compliment those taught to her in England. Chinese magics were not audio as with European magics, but visual and consisted of tracing out characters representing the spell. It was extremely difficult to master all spells and such a task was only accomplished by the extremely educated. Her grandfather was one of the few in the wizarding world who could do it. Despite this, this did not cause him to become elitist about his knowledge but, instead, he encouraged all to receive his instruction. One winter, she even brought Cedr-.
Cedric.
She had brought Cedric, bubbling full of youthful prompt and decorum, to meet her grandfather, who had greeted them both warmly during a winter break a little over one year ago. Cedric had over packed sweaters and wizard robes and sweated abysmally until he relented to wearing a native linen shirt. How handsome he looked chasing after her on his broom above the courtyard, his carefree grin and wind blown hair topping a set of lean muscles shying from the contours of his shirt. And how happy her grandfather was, to know that this good natured lad of wizard standing was to be her honorable match…
The courtyard was empty. Before his death, her grandfather had drawn densely layered wards on to the whole property, making her once-open ancestral home unplotable and apparition-proof. Only the local nymphs, whom her grandfather had assigned to her as bodyguards, were allowed on the property. Cho, alone, was here performing funeral rites that she thought that would never be her responsibility.
Cho did not know why the home was handed down to her. Buddhist tradition from India had seeped heavily into China, turning what was a once matriarchic society into the infamously misogynistic present one. By all means, the home and all its magical and historical treasures should have been handed down to her father or her uncles. But she supposed that genetics was placed above sex.
Cho's family was an old family, both in terms of Muggle and wizarding history, though its name, Chang, was unfamiliar to many in the British society. Her written linage rivaled that of the Malfoys, trekking back thousands of years. However, Chinese society never stigmatized magic as the Christian based societies. They simply saw magic as an enhanced form of enlightenment, or even as advanced martial arts. Even modern pop culture painted celluloid fantasies of warriors and half-lings performing charms and curses that must be familiar to those that have seen a British wizard in combat. Magical schooling was informal and a magical bureaucracy, such as the one in Britain, was non-existent. As a result, many Chinese wizards mixed and married freely with Muggles and even used their abilities to manipulate Muggle events. Indeed, many of her ancestors gifted with the ability of divination and arithmancy were revered as war strategists, the most famous being Zhuge Liang of the Three Kingdoms era.
But the most famous wizarding contribution from her family was that made by Quong Po, who, during his long ninety-six years of life, studied the uses of the powdered eggs of the Chinese fireball dragons that dotted her home land. The fireball dragon had become a symbol for her family. The fireball flew, emblazoned in lucky gold and crimson, on her family's banner. Her grandfather, until his death, had been following Quong Po's footsteps and continuing his research. He had been uncharacteristically secretive about his progress; even to Cho, without a doubt his favourite as the only grandchild with wizarding abilities. An unfortunate side effect of having liberal relationships with the Muggle society is that magic ability within a line dwindles and that it is difficult to identify those with the gift. In fact, both of Cho's parents were near-squibs and owned a Chinese herbal store catering to both the Muggle and magical public in Canton.
Her grandfather, however, was one of the most powerful wizard she had ever encountered. Jun Chang was of Dumbledore's era and fought the Grindelwald Wars in the mid twentieth century on the Pacific Rim side against Grindelwald compatriot Tomo Iishi, who like his non-magical brethren, wished for a pogrom for non-Japanese Muggles. It was her grandfather that threw the last curse at Iishi, nine months after Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald and the war on the Western front was declared over.
After the war, Jun retreated to a quiet life in the ancestral home in Guilim, researching local magical materials and occasionally admitting a few magically gifted youngsters too impoverished to travel to Europe for formal magical instruction. When Cho began displaying the gift at the age of four, her grandfather requested and received guardianship of her. One of Cho's earliest memories was of her grandfather patiently guiding her hand through the steps of a character representing "peace", a calming charm, difficult for the hands of a four year old. When Cho became old enough for formal instruction, he personally met Dumbledore to discuss her education and the two became fast friends, meeting on occasion to discuss various research projects.
He had been happy when Cho was sorted into Ravenclaw, happy when she became a chaser in her house Quiditch tea, happy when she brought home Cedric…
Then Cedric died.
Then grandfather died.
The wounds were fresh and compounded by the presence of the other. They both died because of the same ene….
After Cedric was gone, her grief was soothed by the honest compassion of her grandfather. Cedric was so warm, so golden, his arms pure sunlight. She longed for the sugary safety he lent her, and despite her grandfather's persistent counseling, she spent the year after his death jumping from boy to boy, friend to friend looking for that unbridled joy again. Just when she thought that the pain had subsided….
Then that night.
Holding his hands before the bed that was to become his deathbed, though she refused to believe it at the time.
When she was a child, she had believed that he was the strongest wizard and that nothing could hurt him. He would protect her forever.
As wizards, both had so many more years to live.
Cho felt tears on her cheeks. She always had cried so easily. Her pillows had been crusted with salt for the last year. She made a fool of herself in front of Harr..
She willed herself to stop.
Though the courtyard, her courtyard, was now empty of visitors, there was a relatively nearby farming village from which she could receive reliable, though delayed, wizarding news. Occasionally, she ventures into this village for supplies. For the villager's safety, she does not linger there too long. She did not belong there anyways. Her Mandarin was meager and her countenance easily marked her as a foreigner to the locals. Just two weeks ago she heard about the death of Charlie Weasley. She had known a younger Weasley, Ronald, Harry's friend. She had not known Charlie personally.
Young men died much too early these days.
Most of the company she had during this summer was from the local nymphs that resided in the forest that surrounded her home. They were fox changelings; clever, beautiful, poisonous tricksters that in many Chinese fables had pulled wayward men to their doom. They were born out of the angry spirits of young women discarded or killed by their lovers and, like Dementors, feasted on the souls of men. Despite the terrifying reputation of their race, these changelings were loyal; this particular group was bonded to her family as protectors through a closely guarded family secret that even Cho did not know. Her grandfather was on exceptionally good terms with one of the nymphs, Mei, whom she had known since she could remember. When her grandfather died, Mei had swron to protect her.
Cho simply looked at Mei and the nymphs as exotic friends. They all had smooth, ageless porcelain skin which they showed off carelessly, long silky raven hair decorated with perfumed flowers and elegant sea pearls and a svelte shapely body. One would have never thought that their nails and lips were full of poison or that one's soul would be sucked out by their kisses.
When she was younger, before she developed delicate features that cleverly mimicked her nymph friends, she was envious of their beauty. Cho knew that she was attractive, though it was a bit of a surprise as her mother was quite plain. She knew of her admirers in Hogwarts. Cedric could have no doubt gone out with any girl in Hogwarts and Michael Corner was darkly striking. Even the elusive Harry Potter was intrigued by her appearance. But her heart belonged to Cedric.
Cho headed to a shallow, lily gilded spring hugging the back of the courtyard for her morning bath carrying flasks of plain shampoo and soap that she created from a simple recipe in a hygiene book at Hogwarts. Before that she relegated to using Muggle shampoo. The nymphs were already there, their bejeweled hair glistening in the shy sunlight and waved enthusiastically when they saw her. Cho removed her clothes and slipped in. It seemed so natural to be naked around the nymphs who danced about without a single thread on their bodies. In happier times, when her home was not so empty, she bathed in solitude in her own quarters. It was therapeutic to watch her beautiful bodyguards pampered themselves around her, laughing and splashing.
Mei swam up to her, smiling. The odd combination of her fox eyes and her decidedly Asian
"Lovely morning, is it not, Sweetness?"
Cho smiled. Mei seemed to have an infinite amount of pet names for her. Cho enjoyed the attention and thought that it was quite quaint. Mei never talked about death, especially those that she had caused. Cho had long ago stopped asking about the wicked men that Mei tempted with her lashes and thighs to their spiritless dooms.
"Good morning, Mei."
"What shall it be today, Sweetness? Pearls braided into your hair? You'll look ravishing with lotuses tuck behind your ears?"
"Ravishing for who?" Cho laughed. "There's no one here to impress!"
"Impress yourself."
"Well first I have to get unstinky!"
Cho smiled mischievously and pushed off the bottom of the spring, floating away from Mei. After she had cleaned herself fully, she allowed Mei to hum about her, braiding, plucking, and rouging her features into perfection.
"You look like one of us." Mei said when she finished.
Cho smiled. This irrelevant indulgence was an escape. Death and England seemed to be an impossible dream. She continued wading in the spring, playing a lazy game of tag with the other nymphs.
Suddenly Mei's lovely features harden.
"I sense a man."
Cho looked at the other nymphs and saw that they had also sense the stranger. Their eyes toughened to hungry fox eyes ready for a meal. Because of the new unplotable wards, very few men –meals- wandered into the forests.
They gazed towards the moon-shaped entrance of the courtyard expectantly. Cho indulged this for a few moments but decided that she heard and saw nothing out of order.
"But it's not possible! Grandfather had made this place unplottable."
"Hush. Keep your head down. This man had killed many. Their spirits cling to him."
Cho decided not to protest and waded away. Cursing the nymph's insistence, she pulled herself out of the water.
It was this moment that she saw Professor Severus Snape walk in through the circular archway and step into her home.