OR DIE TRYING: CHO CHANG'S SIXTH YEAR
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
2. A Simple Birthday Owl
The Changs came back to Diagon Alley late on 4 August. They weren't expected back until the tenth. Their two weeks in Copenhagen didn't lift Cho's spirits, and their two weeks in Amsterdam became one week when Cho's mood switched from silent and sad to sullen and argumentative. The least incident, a word or glance from her mother, might set Cho off. It was bad enough that she would burst into tears; twice in Amsterdam she started shouting at her mother, loudly and angrily, in public--it was unheard of. Her parents finally decided that the trip was doing Cho more harm than good.
At first going back seemed to be the right thing to do. The next day, 5 August, Cho was in the shoppe early in the morning, helping her mother, with the family cat Chairman Miao rubbing up against her ankles. Familiar surroundings, a familiar routine; these seemed to do Cho more good than a tour of the North.
The tempest seemed to have blown itself out, until Lotus asked Cho to join her in the parlour after dinner for a cup of tea. Lotus poured for herself and her daughter; a pungent black Chinese tea softened by jasmine blossoms. Lotus knew that it was too soon to hope, but it seemed that Cho was doing better--better than she was in Amsterdam, anyway.
"Do you think you'll be seeing any of your school friends before you go back?"
Cho shrugged. "Perhaps when the book lists come out."
"Yes," Lotus nodded; "they'll fill up the Alley right enough." She sipped her tea. "Do you expect to hear from Roger?"
"No."
"From Ha Li Bo Te?"
Cho stayed silent.
"We were gone for his birthday, you know."
"I know."
"Are you going to do something about it?"
Cho noisily put her cup down. "I will if you let me!" She ran to her room and slammed the door.
It was no accident--it couldn't be an accident--that her mother would bring up Harry now! She wanted to see what Cho would do; but what would she do?
Whatever it was, she'd do it in the morning.
xxx
After the Second Task, after that first kiss, Cho lived in ecstasy--but that ecstasy could only be maintained if she pretended that Harry Potter simply didn't exist. That first kiss happened a year after Cho had developed her first crush, on The Boy Who Lived. Cedric overwhelmed her for those months between the Second and Third Tasks, but not completely; the crush stayed somewhere in the background. She didn't speak to Harry, and tried to push herself away if anyone else spoke about him, tried to ignore the crush or bury it.
But why? What was she afraid of? Betraying Harry? There was nothing to betray; there was no understanding between them. The last time they had spoken was before the Yule Ball, and they hardly traded a dozen words before that.
So there was nothing there, right? Wrong; something was there, she still had an unshakeable faith that something was there between them. She knew how she felt, and everyone seemed to know how he felt, but she couldn't yet figure out exactly what that feeling was.
She spent a long night, very little of it asleep. She refused to admit that her mother was right about sending a birthday owl to Ha Li Bo Te; but maybe the act of writing would help her figure it all out. She waited until dawn, then she got out of bed, took parchment and quill and began to write:
"Dear Harry,
This is to wish you a belated Happy Birthday. How are you? I am fine."
--Really? Are you? Has it finally sunk in that Cedric is dead and gone?
Of course it has.
--They why do you still think you'll see an owl someday with a message from him?
I don't think that--not all the time.
--But you think it.
Sometimes, yes.
--Why?
Because.
--Why?
Because--I don't want him to be gone. Not gone forever. Not dead.
--But what did Quirrell teach in Dark Arts your first year?
That the Dark Arts seduce and trap people three main ways: by offering money, by offering love, but mostly by offering to bring back the dead.
--And what did he say about it?
That it can't be done; that the dead can never return.
--So you're better off not wanting it.
But I...
--You what?
I want to be held again the way he held me; to be kissed again the way he kissed me; and I want to kiss him back. I want the feelings again--the feelings--they were so...
--Even knowing Cedric is gone?
Knowing it doesn't help at all; I miss him. I miss the feelings.
--Which do you miss; him or the feelings?
I can't separate them any more.
--Don't you think someone else could give you those feelings?
I don't know.
--Harry, maybe?
I... don't know.
--Do you want to know?
But Cedric; it feels like I'm... betraying him.
--You think you can hurt a dead man? You'd have to be more powerful than You-Know-Who...
Shut up!
Cho looked again at the meager letter she had started to write to Harry, and wanted to tear it up, start over again with a new parchment and just pour out the words, pour out everything that had happened since they first saw each other face to face on the Quidditch pitch in her Fourth Year; finally tell Harry--what? That her heart was so tumbled within her that she still couldn't say exactly how she felt about him? That she felt SOMETHING but didn't know what? That there was, in short, nothing to tell him?
She re-read the letter, and picked up the quill:
"I was out of the country until yesterday. That's why this is so late."
What else?
"I really am fine. Please don't worry about me."
And what to say next? Was there anything to say next?
"See you at school."
--Nice touch, Cho, she scolded herself; you're warning him to keep to himself this summer.
Shut up; you're not my mother!
--How do you know?
She signed the letter "Cho"--not "Love, Cho"--there'd be too many questions she couldn't answer if she did. She gave the note to Quan Yin, saying "You know, part of me hopes you'll lose this. But it needs to go to Harry Potter. I just... I don't know... Please." She opened the window, and Quan Yin flew out.
That was her last word to Quan Yin, and for the rest of the week, that was almost her only word on the subject. She prayed to her owl to deliver the note; she prayed to Cedric's spirit for guidance; she begged her ancestors for clarity, with all her questions bound up into the single word: "Please."
On the morning of 8 August, Cho's owl came back, the note unread. Quan Yin couldn't tell Cho that Harry Potter wasn't at number 4, Privet Drive, and there was no way for her to know about number 12, Grimmauld Place; no way to tell Cho that, in fact, Harry Potter was only a few miles away from her home in Diagon Alley.
All Cho Chang knew, as she untied the unopened letter and threw it in the trash, was that she died a little bit that day.
xxx
to be continued in part 3, wherein a nightmare sends Cho looking for an old friend
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
2. A Simple Birthday Owl
The Changs came back to Diagon Alley late on 4 August. They weren't expected back until the tenth. Their two weeks in Copenhagen didn't lift Cho's spirits, and their two weeks in Amsterdam became one week when Cho's mood switched from silent and sad to sullen and argumentative. The least incident, a word or glance from her mother, might set Cho off. It was bad enough that she would burst into tears; twice in Amsterdam she started shouting at her mother, loudly and angrily, in public--it was unheard of. Her parents finally decided that the trip was doing Cho more harm than good.
At first going back seemed to be the right thing to do. The next day, 5 August, Cho was in the shoppe early in the morning, helping her mother, with the family cat Chairman Miao rubbing up against her ankles. Familiar surroundings, a familiar routine; these seemed to do Cho more good than a tour of the North.
The tempest seemed to have blown itself out, until Lotus asked Cho to join her in the parlour after dinner for a cup of tea. Lotus poured for herself and her daughter; a pungent black Chinese tea softened by jasmine blossoms. Lotus knew that it was too soon to hope, but it seemed that Cho was doing better--better than she was in Amsterdam, anyway.
"Do you think you'll be seeing any of your school friends before you go back?"
Cho shrugged. "Perhaps when the book lists come out."
"Yes," Lotus nodded; "they'll fill up the Alley right enough." She sipped her tea. "Do you expect to hear from Roger?"
"No."
"From Ha Li Bo Te?"
Cho stayed silent.
"We were gone for his birthday, you know."
"I know."
"Are you going to do something about it?"
Cho noisily put her cup down. "I will if you let me!" She ran to her room and slammed the door.
It was no accident--it couldn't be an accident--that her mother would bring up Harry now! She wanted to see what Cho would do; but what would she do?
Whatever it was, she'd do it in the morning.
xxx
After the Second Task, after that first kiss, Cho lived in ecstasy--but that ecstasy could only be maintained if she pretended that Harry Potter simply didn't exist. That first kiss happened a year after Cho had developed her first crush, on The Boy Who Lived. Cedric overwhelmed her for those months between the Second and Third Tasks, but not completely; the crush stayed somewhere in the background. She didn't speak to Harry, and tried to push herself away if anyone else spoke about him, tried to ignore the crush or bury it.
But why? What was she afraid of? Betraying Harry? There was nothing to betray; there was no understanding between them. The last time they had spoken was before the Yule Ball, and they hardly traded a dozen words before that.
So there was nothing there, right? Wrong; something was there, she still had an unshakeable faith that something was there between them. She knew how she felt, and everyone seemed to know how he felt, but she couldn't yet figure out exactly what that feeling was.
She spent a long night, very little of it asleep. She refused to admit that her mother was right about sending a birthday owl to Ha Li Bo Te; but maybe the act of writing would help her figure it all out. She waited until dawn, then she got out of bed, took parchment and quill and began to write:
"Dear Harry,
This is to wish you a belated Happy Birthday. How are you? I am fine."
--Really? Are you? Has it finally sunk in that Cedric is dead and gone?
Of course it has.
--They why do you still think you'll see an owl someday with a message from him?
I don't think that--not all the time.
--But you think it.
Sometimes, yes.
--Why?
Because.
--Why?
Because--I don't want him to be gone. Not gone forever. Not dead.
--But what did Quirrell teach in Dark Arts your first year?
That the Dark Arts seduce and trap people three main ways: by offering money, by offering love, but mostly by offering to bring back the dead.
--And what did he say about it?
That it can't be done; that the dead can never return.
--So you're better off not wanting it.
But I...
--You what?
I want to be held again the way he held me; to be kissed again the way he kissed me; and I want to kiss him back. I want the feelings again--the feelings--they were so...
--Even knowing Cedric is gone?
Knowing it doesn't help at all; I miss him. I miss the feelings.
--Which do you miss; him or the feelings?
I can't separate them any more.
--Don't you think someone else could give you those feelings?
I don't know.
--Harry, maybe?
I... don't know.
--Do you want to know?
But Cedric; it feels like I'm... betraying him.
--You think you can hurt a dead man? You'd have to be more powerful than You-Know-Who...
Shut up!
Cho looked again at the meager letter she had started to write to Harry, and wanted to tear it up, start over again with a new parchment and just pour out the words, pour out everything that had happened since they first saw each other face to face on the Quidditch pitch in her Fourth Year; finally tell Harry--what? That her heart was so tumbled within her that she still couldn't say exactly how she felt about him? That she felt SOMETHING but didn't know what? That there was, in short, nothing to tell him?
She re-read the letter, and picked up the quill:
"I was out of the country until yesterday. That's why this is so late."
What else?
"I really am fine. Please don't worry about me."
And what to say next? Was there anything to say next?
"See you at school."
--Nice touch, Cho, she scolded herself; you're warning him to keep to himself this summer.
Shut up; you're not my mother!
--How do you know?
She signed the letter "Cho"--not "Love, Cho"--there'd be too many questions she couldn't answer if she did. She gave the note to Quan Yin, saying "You know, part of me hopes you'll lose this. But it needs to go to Harry Potter. I just... I don't know... Please." She opened the window, and Quan Yin flew out.
That was her last word to Quan Yin, and for the rest of the week, that was almost her only word on the subject. She prayed to her owl to deliver the note; she prayed to Cedric's spirit for guidance; she begged her ancestors for clarity, with all her questions bound up into the single word: "Please."
On the morning of 8 August, Cho's owl came back, the note unread. Quan Yin couldn't tell Cho that Harry Potter wasn't at number 4, Privet Drive, and there was no way for her to know about number 12, Grimmauld Place; no way to tell Cho that, in fact, Harry Potter was only a few miles away from her home in Diagon Alley.
All Cho Chang knew, as she untied the unopened letter and threw it in the trash, was that she died a little bit that day.
xxx
to be continued in part 3, wherein a nightmare sends Cho looking for an old friend