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
8. Stumbling
Cho was the first one awake Monday morning; she was the first in her robes and out the door. As she walked to the Great Hall she was also running through the entire upcoming year in her head, trying to figure when Quidditch practice might be and what nights to spend in the library until closing. She was determined to be the first girl out of the dorm every morning and the last girl in the dorm every night. She resolved to spend as little time in the room as possible, with or without the reassurances of the Prefect.
She had Quidditch to worry about. She also had classes to worry about. No matter what mood she was in, this was her Sixth Year, which meant advanced work in most of her classes. She couldn't allow herself the luxury of grieving over Cedric--not too much grieving, at any rate. Because this year, it seemed, she also had her dormitory-mates to worry about. She still had no real idea what the year would bring, except that this year would have one major difference.
She would seek out Harry Potter. She would talk to Harry Potter. She would get to know Harry Potter.
Part of it was because she needed to know what had happened to Cedric in his final minutes of life. And, like it or not, Harry was the last one with him. Also, the two of them had Cedric's death in common; surely it had upset Harry as well. They could talk about it together; they could console each other; isn't that what the grief counsellor said to do?
Cho wouldn't mention--for the time being--the fact that she had had a crush on Harry since her Fourth Year, and perhaps even earlier.
It was while these thoughts were chasing through her head, sitting at the Ravenclaw Table in the Great Hall, picking at breakfast but not really hungry, that Harry and his usual friends--Granger and Ron Weasley--arrived. They didn't look over at the Ravenclaw table; Cho kept her eyes fixed on Harry, until he sat with his back to her. She sighed, feeling let down, but not totally sure why. After all she'd already resolved to make the first move--
"Morning, Cho." It was one of the Ravenclaw Beaters, "Jinx" Jenkins. He sat across from her, blocking her view of Harry. Before he could say anything else, though, the morning mail owls swooped in, dropping dozens of letters, parcels and copies of the Daily Prophet.
"So; er, have a good summer?" "Jinx" winced as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Wait; I didn't mean-- Well, you know what I meant."
She gave him a sad smile. "It was all right."
"I wanted the team to get together and send you a scroll, but we couldn't agree on anything, and people were in and out of the country. Guess we're not really a team unless there's a Quaffle involved."
"I know." Cho's smile got a bit broader. "Thanks."
Just then Professor McGonagall started passing out schedules to the rapidly-filling tables. Cho noted that Umbridge's class would be her first class Fridays, and Potions with Hufflepuff would be the last. All she needed was History of Magic to make Friday the worst of the week. Still, she had a week to prepare for all that. Today would be Advanced Astronomy theory first, then Herbology, Ancient Runes after lunch and Magical Creatures to round it off.
"Have you seen Roger yet?" Cho asked.
"Jinx" shook his head. "I saw him for a quick minute last night in the Common Room, but he was working out some lists. I reckon he's trying to figure out which Reserves to move up as Regulars. All the teams have lost players since last time." As soon as he said that, Cho's smile dissolved as her eyes started to fill with tears. "Oh gosh, Cho, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that."
Cho had one hand over her eyes while she waved Jenkins off with the other. "Don't apologize. It's me; I'm sorry. I'll be all right."
"Yeh, well..." Jenkins took his schedule and left the table.
Damn it! Cho cursed herself; it's starting already and it's got to stop! Otherwise this whole year will be a disaster. She composed her face, wiped her eyes, and went to fetch her books for her first class.
xxx
The Astronomy classroom was brightly lit with candles on all tables and flaming torches in all the wall sconces. They were needed, because just as class began, the sun disappeared behind gray clouds and a light rain began spitting against the windows. Cho didn't much notice the rain, until Professor Sinistra began discussing Pluto and its lone moon, named Charon by the Muggles. "Both names," said the professor, "are of course associated with Greco-Roman mythology about the dead."
Cho bit her lip, looked out the window, and noticed for the first time that the rain clouds were exactly the shade of Cedric Diggory's eyes. She spent most of the rest of the lesson clutching the edge of her desk and trying not to scream.
She remained at her seat, composing herself, for a minute after class was dismissed, then rushed to the courtyard. She would need to cross the courtyard to get to the Greenhouses for Herbology, but the rain hadn't let up; if anything, it was a bit worse. She found herself pushing through knots of students who were also trying to wait out the rain.
Then she turned one corner--and ducked back around the corner. There he was. Harry was standing just a few yards away, with his friends, also waiting out the rain.
She wanted to talk to him; needed to. But she hadn't counted on the others. He always seemed surrounded by those two. Why couldn't she catch him alone? There was no hope for it now; who knew when the next chance might come? May as well say hello to Harry and ignore the others.
Cho smiled as best she could, and turned the corner again. "Hello Harry!"
Harry seemed quite surprised, and started to blush even as he said "Hi." What was there to be embarrassed about? He was probably remembering the train, she decided. "You got that stuff off, then?" she smiled, trying to make a joke of it.
"Yeah," he nodded, also trying to grin. He paused a few seconds, as if unsure what to say. "So," he finally tried, "did you, er, have a good summer?"
She saw him wince the instant he said it; knowing it was the worst possible thing to say. For Cho it was a repeat of what had happened with "Jinx" at breakfast. No, not this time, I will NOT lose control! Not here! She choked off the sob while it was still in her throat, held her face still, and said quietly, "Oh, it was ... all right, you know..."
"Is that a Tornadoes badge?" Harry's friend Ron Weasley chose this worst moment to barge into the conversation. He was pointing at the pale blue Tutshill badge she had bought the week before and forgotten about. But there was something odd about Weasley; he was acting as if the badge was the Dark Mark. "You don't support them, do you?"
"Yeah, I do," Cho snapped back at him. What was his problem?!
He bore down on her like Snape at his worst, or like an Auror trying to extract a confession. "Have you always supported them, or just since they started winning the league?"
Cho felt what Harry must have felt on the train with the Stinksap: this is just surreal--it can't be happening! Gathering as much dignity as she could, she shot an icy look at Weasley and said, "I've supported them since I was six." She glanced at Harry, who seemed thoroughly embarrassed by the whole thing.
A couple of students ran past. The Greenhouses! She was going to be late! "Anyway," she turned to Harry, who looked at her with an embarrassed half-smile. "See you, Harry." And she crossed the courtyard, through the still falling rain.
By the time she was halfway across, she heard Granger shouting at Weasley for being so rude. Cho allowed herself a small smile.
xxx
She had trouble concentrating in Herbology; the strange encounter in the courtyard would not go away and could not be explained.
What was Weasley so worried about? So what if she had a Tutshill badge?! That can't have been the real reason for all that...
Cho took brief notes as Madam Pomfrey described some of the dozens of carnivorous species of plants in Greenhouse Number Four. Cho had had experience of half of them, and wasn't worried about the lesson. It was Weasley that bothered her. All Cho really knew about him was that he had been rescued by Ha Li Bo Te during the Second Task, and that he was a brother to the Gryffindor Beaters. But was that a reason for him to be so challenging?
Or was that it? Maybe he was trying to be protective of Harry--The Boy Who Lived, after all, had saved his life. But that didn't explain why he thought Cho was any kind of a threat...
She just kept going around in circles about it all, trying to unravel Weasley's Tutshill Problem while also sketching the distinctive petals of the Blue-Blossomed Toad-Guzzler.
xxx
After class she went straight to the Great Hall; her stomach was starting to growl in the Greenhouse and she knew she should have had a bigger breakfast. But she wasn't sure if her nerves would let her have much for lunch either.
As soon as she sat down, Roger Davies, Captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, sat opposite her.
"Doing all right, Cho?" he asked, his concern plain on his face.
"I'm all right," she smiled; "thanks for asking."
"How's Thursday evening on your schedule?"
"Nothing so far."
"Looks like we'll have practice Thursday evenings, then. Come to the stadium and we can start practice right away. Just a matter of promoting a couple of Reserves to Regulars."
"It's a long time since I flew; I can hardly wait."
"I think this'll be a good year."
"It's your seventh, isn't it, Roger? We'll make sure to win the Cup for you. A leaving present."
"That's what I like to hear. See you Thursday, then." He paused for a moment, then said, "I'm glad to see you're better."
"I think I can handle things. Don't worry."
"Later, Cho." Roger got up and left. When he did, she could see Harry and his two friends at the Gryffindor table. Again, Harry sat (deliberately or not) with his back to her. But Cho noticed something else: the rest of Gryffindor House seemed to be avoiding Harry. There was several feet of empty table on either side of him, and it didn't seem to be accidental.
Cho looked at the shepherd's pie on the table, and was once again not hungry.
xxx
She didn't let her mind wander during Ancient Runes; they were so complicated that they required nothing less than full attention. On the other hand, Care of Magical Creatures was a doddle, since she'd already had experience with bowtruckles; her parents sold them in their shoppe.
At that evening's dinner in the Great Hall, conversation was taken up not with any of the Ravenclaws' new classes, but by rumours of Harry Potter. She sat down next to some Third-Years; their conversation was so animated that they didn't even notice Cho.
"Got into a real dust-up with Umbridge."
"Never!"
"Personally, I wouldn't put it past him."
"Yeh, he's fought a dragon before, hasn't he?"
"But this dragon's high up in the Ministry. He's jeopardising his whole life!"
"From what I hear, it may not be a long life. It's as if he's asking to get thrown into Azkaban."
"But nobody in their right mind would want that!"
"My point exactly."
This time Cho was very hungry, but still she didn't bother to eat; she was too agitated. She had to know what this was all about.
She noticed that a large knot of Ravenclaws were leaving the table, and this time the center of attention was Fifth-Year Padma Patil; her twin sister Parvati was in Harry's year in Gryffindor. Thinking that she'd know best what had really happened, Cho got up and followed the group through the corridors, into the West Wing, behind the tapestry (using the password "chthonic"), through the bookcase and into the Common Room. There was already a large group of students, apparently waiting for Padma. Apparently they'd had the same idea as Cho.
Padma, not usually one for making speeches or idle conversation, gave a sigh of resignation. "Listen up, everybody," she said loudly, "because I don't want to have to tell this whole bloody story again. I'm telling you the way Parvati told it to me. First of all, the way Umbridge teaches Dark Arts is utter rubbish. She doesn't teach anything at all! She just teaches the theory of defensive spells, but won't let anyone actually do the spells. And that book!" A few students, who apparently had Umbridge already, were nodding their heads; when Padma mentioned Slinkhard, all of them seemed have read the book before the term began.
"Anyway," Padma went on, "some of the Gryffindors--Parvati included--start talking back to her about the class, but then Harry Potter starts in on how we're going to be attacked by You-Know-Who." A few Ravenclaws chuckled derisively when Padma said that, which made Cho angry. "He even comes right out and says the Name, which costs Gryffindor ten points. But he keeps on about You-Know-Who being back, and Umbridge says he's lying, and Potter says the Ministry is lying, and the upshot is that he's got detention for a week!"
"Better him than me," muttered a Fourth-Year boy.
"Shouldn't have talked about the Ministry like that," Cho heard the girl next to her say.
"The last part of it was Umbridge saying that the Ministry believes that You-Know-Who hasn't been reborn, and isn't waging a new war or anything, and Potter says, 'Oh, so Cedric Diggory just sort of dropped dead, then?'"
Cho had resolved to be the last girl in her dormitory at night. That resolution was forgotten as she worked her way around the crowd still listening to Padma, dashed upstairs to the empty dorm, jumped into bed, drew the curtains, buried her face in her pillow, and wailed out the grief she'd been fighting off all day long. She cried herself to sleep.
That night, she had the Coffin Nightmare again. She woke out of it, again screaming Cedric's name. As soon as she did, someone opened her bed curtains.
All four of her dorm-mates were staring at her, wands lit. Raina was sad, almost in tears herself. Jan looked disgruntled at being woken up. Diana seemed merely curious as to what the noise was all about. And Marietta was trying to keep her face a blank mask, but some concern still showed through.
Cho looked at the others, all looking at her. She started to say "I'm sorry," but got no further before she started crying again, now out of shame and embarrassment instead of grief, and buried her face in her hands.
She heard Marietta say, "I'll take it from here, then," felt the Prefect crawl onto her bed, and heard the curtains being drawn again. Marietta gently pulled Cho's hands away from her face. "Has this been going on all summer?" All Cho could do was nod. "What do you usually do?"
"My ... My mother would ... Draught of Peace."
"Well, that's more than I happen to have in my pockets," Marietta said, smiling slightly. "Think you'll be all right without it? Or should I send you to Madam Pomfrey?"
"I ... I think I'll be fine now. At least, until morning."
"Let's see what we can sort out in the morning. Rest easy, Cho." Marietta let Cho alone and closed the bed curtains.
Cho laid back against her pillow, eyes wide open, trying to fight sleep. Before this she hadn't tried to simply go back to sleep after a nightmare, and now she was deathly afraid of embarrassing herself twice in one night. After almost an hour, sheer exhaustion overcame her, and she fell into a dreamless sleep.
xxx
Cho almost slept through breakfast Tuesday morning as a result, and attended the morning classes in a fog. It wasn't until her afternoon Transfiguration class that she felt even remotely like herself.
She spent the rest of the day and much of the night in the library working on her bowtruckle scroll for Professor Grubbly-Plank. She then relocated to the Common Room to work on Ancient Runes, and stayed up until midnight, when the Ravenclaws had Astronomy in the Tower.
An hour later, as she stumbled into bed with the others in her dormitory, Cho realized, with a bit of a jolt, that she'd gotten through the entire day without thinking of Cedric even once. She was vaguely bothered by that, but too sleepy to let it keep her up.
xxx
Wednesday morning Cho awoke at dawn, having slept more soundly than she had in days. Still it bothered her; if the only way to get a good night's sleep is to exhaust myself, I won't last a month.
As she parted the curtains of her bed, she saw Marietta putting on her robes. "How are you, then, Cho?"
"Fine, I suppose. Last night, did I--"
"No, and you don't have to worry about the others. I worked out a temporary solution."
"What's that?"
"Soundproofing Charms on all the other bed curtains. The castle could be falling apart and they wouldn't know."
"Well, that helps them, but--"
"I didn't soundproof your bed or mine. If you get in a bad way, I'll still be able to hear it and do something about it."
Cho smiled. "You're a better friend than I deserve, Marietta."
"Nonsense; I'm the Prefect. It's my job to keep track of everyone and sort out the problems. Ready for the day, then?"
Cho nodded. "The morning should be simple, at least."
She was right about that. First came History of Magic with Binns, who hardly anyone listened to; next, Advanced Charms with their Head of House, Professor Flitwick. Charms were never Cho's strongest subject, but Flitwick was so kindly and pleasant that she didn't mind making the extra effort.
Today, however, he kept Cho after class when the others had gone. "I never really had a chance to tell you about the Divination text on your book list."
"I assumed that the letter would be the same for everyone."
"No, they weren't all the same. And I recall why you wanted to leave Divination." Before term ended, Cho had walked up to the Divination professor, Madam Sybil Trelawney, and embarrassed her by asking why she did not foresee the death of Cedric Diggory. Later that day, she asked Professor Flitwick to place her in Muggle Studies instead of Divination.
"To tell the truth," Professor Flitwick continued, "I had hoped that you would reconsider over the summer. Sixth Year is, after all, when Professor Trelawney teaches Chinese methods of Divination such as the I Ching. I've heard reports that you are quite adept at these methods, and was hoping you would assist Professor Trelawney; from the source, as it were."
A student assisting a professor?! Cho was shocked, and honoured, and almost didn't notice Professor Flitwick continuing. "But that was before the arrival of our new ... of Professor Umbridge. She's already put the school on notice--just a few hints here and there, nothing formal--that she'll be reviewing the performance of every instructor at Hogwarts. The Ministry seems to have some sort of idea that the school poses a danger to the entire wizarding world. Rubbish, of course." Flitwick stopped a moment, his brows wrinkled in deep thought. He seemed to forget that Cho was there.
Then he came back to himself. "Well, it's all one. I did want to let you know what I was thinking. Under the circumstances, having a student assist an instructor would be an insult to the instructor; an indication that all was not well. However, I was hoping that you weren't still so opposed to Divination that--" Flitwick's voice trailed off, expectantly.
Cho shook her head. "I'm sorry, Professor. I meant what I said. What good is Divination if nobody saw what ... what would happen?"
"Oh, I'm sure someone saw it, Miss Chang. The Department of Mysteries at the Ministry has an excellent collection of prophecies, or so I understand. I'm sorry that this particular prophecy seems to have been, erm, overlooked at the critical moment. But, be that as it may, of course I'll allow you to change to Muggle Studies." Flitwick straightened his robes; they had been studying Levitation Spells, which had left everyone a bit rumpled.
"Thank you, Professor."
"And, Miss Chang, if there are any serious problems..."
"I promise I won't do anything foolish."
xxx
By the time she made her way to dinner in the Great Hall, Cho once again felt that coming back to Hogwarts at all might have been something foolish--colossally foolish.
Professor Idylwyld's Muggle Studies had started in on internal combustion engines. After a long and tedious lecture about the mechanical principles behind the engine, at the end of the period the class was assigned a five-scroll essay describing how the engine was linked to Muggle wars of conquest and political corruption. It seemed like university-level work to Cho, who groaned along with the rest of the Sixth-Years. But Cho also groaned because she knew she was headed for the first of two Potions classes of the week.
Cho had no idea how Snape had spent his summer holidays, but it hadn't improved his disposition. Barely were the Sixth-Year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs in their seats when Snape turned on them, almost ferociously.
"I have seen the phenomenon far too many times here at Hogwarts," he started, looking darkly at all of them. "The O.W.L.s are behind you now, the N.E.W.T.s are next year, so you consider yourselves able to glide through this year, able to, as the saying goes, 'skive off'. I promise you, you are wrong." He paced back and forth in front of the class, like a caged tiger at the zoo. "You have crossed over into Advanced Potions, and this will mean a great deal more work, more concentration, and more presence of mind than you have shown me in recent months.
"Miss Chang, briefly explain--if a Ravenclaw can be capable of explaining anything briefly--the significance of cinnabar to the ancient Chinese alchemists."
No, you won't, Professor Snape; you will not force me to humiliate myself the way you did my first day.
Cho took a deep breath, stood, and stared directly at Snape as she answered: "Cinnabar plays a role comparable to that of gold in Western traditions. The mercury contained within cinnabar is extracted and added to sulphur in a process performed nine times, which yields an elixir known as the Elixir of Return." With that, she sat, her eyes still locked on Snape.
Snape looked at her for a few seconds, then turned away and looked to the Hufflepuffs. "Miss McQuinch, the uses of mercury--ALL of them."
xxx
Once again, Cho hardly ate a bite at dinner. School was exhausting her; not the course work, but the stress of being back, of holding in her emotions when every stone in the walls reminded her of Cedric.
Raina was sitting across from Cho, her face full of concern. "Don't worry," she said. "I'm sure you'll feel better once you get back on a broom. When's your first practice?"
"Tomorrow night."
"We can all tell, you know," Raina went on as she dished herself some chicken curry. "We can always tell when you've been on a broom; your whole demeanor changes. It's really obvious. How long has it been?"
"Not since..." Cho started to choke up again, but forced it back. "The night of the Third Task."
Raina blushed, muttered a "Sorry," and started to rise. Cho grabbed the sleeve of Raina's robes.
"Don't go, please." Cho's lower lip trembled. "I--I don't mean to upset anyone, but I do it anyway and..."
Raina sat back down. The rest of the dinner was silent; Cho may have been glad for the company, but Raina seemed nervous, as if she might again say or do the wrong thing.
When they got to the Common Room after dinner, they saw a small crowd by the bay window. Padma Patil was once again holding forth; they heard the phrase "Harry Potter's detention." This stopped Cho in her tracks; she wanted to listen to this.
Raina, however, shook her head and started up the stairs to their dormitory, saying, "I can't listen." It would take a few weeks before Cho fully understood what that meant.
Meanwhile, Padma was explaining what happened to Harry's hand while he was writing lines for Umbridge. "Parvati said that you could actually read the scratches on the back of his hand".
Vincent Krixlow gave a low whistle. "She's usin' a damned Iron Quill; no doubt about it."
"Never heard of that one, mate," Pablo Molina said.
"Well, let's see," Vincent said, scanning the walls of books until he saw what he wanted. He pulled his wand and pointed it at the bookcase on the opposite wall: "Accio Fingdelly!" At once a slim grey-bound volume slipped out of the case and flew across the room, landing in Vincent's hand.
"This is 'Dark Devices and Demonic Doodads,'" Vincent went on. "It was written by Warren Fingdelly, and it's a nice little book full of nasty little things. Every one would be at home in Knock Turn Alley."
"Seems to me I saw that one in the Restricted section," Diana Fairweather began.
"Just borrowed it for a bit," Krixlow grinned. He was deliberately underplaying his ability to steal a Restricted book, hoping it would impress his Housemates--and it did. "Here it is," he said after thumbing through the book. "It says here the Iron Quill was invented in 1647 by Invidious Kafka, as a way to help Cromwell and the Puritans sort out the wizards from the Muggles. After the Restoration the Wizards Council banned its use, but every century or so someone's hauled it out again."
"What does it do, exactly?" Cho asked.
"Exactly, I couldn't tell you. That would take some serious Arithmancy to explain how it works, and I'm avoidin' Arithmancy like Filch was teachin' it. But, near as I can tell, there's some sort of ghost nib, you might say, that does to the back of your hand whatever you're doing to the paper with the real nib. So you really are writin' with your own blood."
"And she's a high-ranking Secretary in the Ministry?" asked Terry Boot. "She belongs in Saint Mungo's; that's sick!"
Cho nodded and settled into a comfy chair. She tried to read for her Runes assignment, but the late nights studying and early mornings were catching up with her. Her eyes started to water and go out of focus; she struggled to pay attention to the runes on the page...
She fought her way through a veritable forest of high grass, brown and dead but blocking her way. It was a struggle to make even a few inches of progress. Finally, though, she broke through.
She saw a pit. It was a huge pit; Cho imagined that it was what the lake would look like if it were drained of all water and baked for months under an unforgiving sun. The pit, and all the land around it, was brown, dead and dusty. And at the bottom of the pit was a strange looking machine. It looked vaguely like one of the old looms she'd read about in Muggle Studies, or an old Muggle printing press, or a little of both, and something else that made it look--just--wrong, like a plant or animal that has no business being alive.
Cho tried to get a closer look at the machine, but she couldn't; the pit was ringed with a wire fence; nothing could get into the pit. So it was with surprise that she saw figures down there, moving toward the machine. The Slytherin Quidditch team, in full uniforms, were marching by twos, guarding a naked Harry Potter. Harry's hands were tied and clasped in front of him, and Cho was too far away to see clearly, but she could tell that Harry was being held prisoner. She got up to the fence.
Just then a loud, high-pitched voice echoed through the pit: "HEM HEM!" It was Professor Umbridge, dressed in elaborate robes but still with those silly little-girl ribbons in her hair. "The prisoner has proven to be most reluctant to accept the authority of the Ministry. Instead, he has persisted in spreading pernicious lies that can only upset and disturb the wizarding community and cause people to mistrust the Ministry. Lesser means have failed to persuade him of the error of his ways; we therefore must render upon him the supreme judgment."
Cho looked back at the machine; Harry was now strapped to it, face down. Umbridge pointed her wand at the machine, and it started moving. The parts didn't move in a way that made any sense, and nothing seemed to be touching Harry Potter's back. But his back began turning pink, then red, then, even from her vantage point yards away, Cho could see the small red dots appearing on the prisoner's back. The number of dots grew and clustered together, until they formed great bloody gashes on his back--gashes that spelled out, in cursive script, "I MUST NOT TELL LIES"...
"CHO!"
Cho woke up. It took her a few seconds to realize that she had fallen asleep in the comfy chair. Jan Nugginbridge had been shaking her shoulder.
"Yeh were doin' it agin, weren't yeh? Dreamin' 'bout Cedric."
"What?" Cho was still confused from being awoken so suddenly. "Did I say anything?"
"Yeh were sayin', 'Take me! Take me instead!' Dreamin' 'bout that night, eh?"
Cho shook her head, hoping that Jan could not see her face, which Cho felt was burning crimson.
xxx
to be continued in part 9, wherein the Ravenclaw Quidditch team prepares for the year ahead
A/N: Cho's dream about Harry's torture is based on the literary work that, I believe, inspired JKRowling--and, if you haven't read it already, I recommend the short story "The Penal Colony" by Franz Kafka.
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
8. Stumbling
Cho was the first one awake Monday morning; she was the first in her robes and out the door. As she walked to the Great Hall she was also running through the entire upcoming year in her head, trying to figure when Quidditch practice might be and what nights to spend in the library until closing. She was determined to be the first girl out of the dorm every morning and the last girl in the dorm every night. She resolved to spend as little time in the room as possible, with or without the reassurances of the Prefect.
She had Quidditch to worry about. She also had classes to worry about. No matter what mood she was in, this was her Sixth Year, which meant advanced work in most of her classes. She couldn't allow herself the luxury of grieving over Cedric--not too much grieving, at any rate. Because this year, it seemed, she also had her dormitory-mates to worry about. She still had no real idea what the year would bring, except that this year would have one major difference.
She would seek out Harry Potter. She would talk to Harry Potter. She would get to know Harry Potter.
Part of it was because she needed to know what had happened to Cedric in his final minutes of life. And, like it or not, Harry was the last one with him. Also, the two of them had Cedric's death in common; surely it had upset Harry as well. They could talk about it together; they could console each other; isn't that what the grief counsellor said to do?
Cho wouldn't mention--for the time being--the fact that she had had a crush on Harry since her Fourth Year, and perhaps even earlier.
It was while these thoughts were chasing through her head, sitting at the Ravenclaw Table in the Great Hall, picking at breakfast but not really hungry, that Harry and his usual friends--Granger and Ron Weasley--arrived. They didn't look over at the Ravenclaw table; Cho kept her eyes fixed on Harry, until he sat with his back to her. She sighed, feeling let down, but not totally sure why. After all she'd already resolved to make the first move--
"Morning, Cho." It was one of the Ravenclaw Beaters, "Jinx" Jenkins. He sat across from her, blocking her view of Harry. Before he could say anything else, though, the morning mail owls swooped in, dropping dozens of letters, parcels and copies of the Daily Prophet.
"So; er, have a good summer?" "Jinx" winced as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Wait; I didn't mean-- Well, you know what I meant."
She gave him a sad smile. "It was all right."
"I wanted the team to get together and send you a scroll, but we couldn't agree on anything, and people were in and out of the country. Guess we're not really a team unless there's a Quaffle involved."
"I know." Cho's smile got a bit broader. "Thanks."
Just then Professor McGonagall started passing out schedules to the rapidly-filling tables. Cho noted that Umbridge's class would be her first class Fridays, and Potions with Hufflepuff would be the last. All she needed was History of Magic to make Friday the worst of the week. Still, she had a week to prepare for all that. Today would be Advanced Astronomy theory first, then Herbology, Ancient Runes after lunch and Magical Creatures to round it off.
"Have you seen Roger yet?" Cho asked.
"Jinx" shook his head. "I saw him for a quick minute last night in the Common Room, but he was working out some lists. I reckon he's trying to figure out which Reserves to move up as Regulars. All the teams have lost players since last time." As soon as he said that, Cho's smile dissolved as her eyes started to fill with tears. "Oh gosh, Cho, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that."
Cho had one hand over her eyes while she waved Jenkins off with the other. "Don't apologize. It's me; I'm sorry. I'll be all right."
"Yeh, well..." Jenkins took his schedule and left the table.
Damn it! Cho cursed herself; it's starting already and it's got to stop! Otherwise this whole year will be a disaster. She composed her face, wiped her eyes, and went to fetch her books for her first class.
xxx
The Astronomy classroom was brightly lit with candles on all tables and flaming torches in all the wall sconces. They were needed, because just as class began, the sun disappeared behind gray clouds and a light rain began spitting against the windows. Cho didn't much notice the rain, until Professor Sinistra began discussing Pluto and its lone moon, named Charon by the Muggles. "Both names," said the professor, "are of course associated with Greco-Roman mythology about the dead."
Cho bit her lip, looked out the window, and noticed for the first time that the rain clouds were exactly the shade of Cedric Diggory's eyes. She spent most of the rest of the lesson clutching the edge of her desk and trying not to scream.
She remained at her seat, composing herself, for a minute after class was dismissed, then rushed to the courtyard. She would need to cross the courtyard to get to the Greenhouses for Herbology, but the rain hadn't let up; if anything, it was a bit worse. She found herself pushing through knots of students who were also trying to wait out the rain.
Then she turned one corner--and ducked back around the corner. There he was. Harry was standing just a few yards away, with his friends, also waiting out the rain.
She wanted to talk to him; needed to. But she hadn't counted on the others. He always seemed surrounded by those two. Why couldn't she catch him alone? There was no hope for it now; who knew when the next chance might come? May as well say hello to Harry and ignore the others.
Cho smiled as best she could, and turned the corner again. "Hello Harry!"
Harry seemed quite surprised, and started to blush even as he said "Hi." What was there to be embarrassed about? He was probably remembering the train, she decided. "You got that stuff off, then?" she smiled, trying to make a joke of it.
"Yeah," he nodded, also trying to grin. He paused a few seconds, as if unsure what to say. "So," he finally tried, "did you, er, have a good summer?"
She saw him wince the instant he said it; knowing it was the worst possible thing to say. For Cho it was a repeat of what had happened with "Jinx" at breakfast. No, not this time, I will NOT lose control! Not here! She choked off the sob while it was still in her throat, held her face still, and said quietly, "Oh, it was ... all right, you know..."
"Is that a Tornadoes badge?" Harry's friend Ron Weasley chose this worst moment to barge into the conversation. He was pointing at the pale blue Tutshill badge she had bought the week before and forgotten about. But there was something odd about Weasley; he was acting as if the badge was the Dark Mark. "You don't support them, do you?"
"Yeah, I do," Cho snapped back at him. What was his problem?!
He bore down on her like Snape at his worst, or like an Auror trying to extract a confession. "Have you always supported them, or just since they started winning the league?"
Cho felt what Harry must have felt on the train with the Stinksap: this is just surreal--it can't be happening! Gathering as much dignity as she could, she shot an icy look at Weasley and said, "I've supported them since I was six." She glanced at Harry, who seemed thoroughly embarrassed by the whole thing.
A couple of students ran past. The Greenhouses! She was going to be late! "Anyway," she turned to Harry, who looked at her with an embarrassed half-smile. "See you, Harry." And she crossed the courtyard, through the still falling rain.
By the time she was halfway across, she heard Granger shouting at Weasley for being so rude. Cho allowed herself a small smile.
xxx
She had trouble concentrating in Herbology; the strange encounter in the courtyard would not go away and could not be explained.
What was Weasley so worried about? So what if she had a Tutshill badge?! That can't have been the real reason for all that...
Cho took brief notes as Madam Pomfrey described some of the dozens of carnivorous species of plants in Greenhouse Number Four. Cho had had experience of half of them, and wasn't worried about the lesson. It was Weasley that bothered her. All Cho really knew about him was that he had been rescued by Ha Li Bo Te during the Second Task, and that he was a brother to the Gryffindor Beaters. But was that a reason for him to be so challenging?
Or was that it? Maybe he was trying to be protective of Harry--The Boy Who Lived, after all, had saved his life. But that didn't explain why he thought Cho was any kind of a threat...
She just kept going around in circles about it all, trying to unravel Weasley's Tutshill Problem while also sketching the distinctive petals of the Blue-Blossomed Toad-Guzzler.
xxx
After class she went straight to the Great Hall; her stomach was starting to growl in the Greenhouse and she knew she should have had a bigger breakfast. But she wasn't sure if her nerves would let her have much for lunch either.
As soon as she sat down, Roger Davies, Captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, sat opposite her.
"Doing all right, Cho?" he asked, his concern plain on his face.
"I'm all right," she smiled; "thanks for asking."
"How's Thursday evening on your schedule?"
"Nothing so far."
"Looks like we'll have practice Thursday evenings, then. Come to the stadium and we can start practice right away. Just a matter of promoting a couple of Reserves to Regulars."
"It's a long time since I flew; I can hardly wait."
"I think this'll be a good year."
"It's your seventh, isn't it, Roger? We'll make sure to win the Cup for you. A leaving present."
"That's what I like to hear. See you Thursday, then." He paused for a moment, then said, "I'm glad to see you're better."
"I think I can handle things. Don't worry."
"Later, Cho." Roger got up and left. When he did, she could see Harry and his two friends at the Gryffindor table. Again, Harry sat (deliberately or not) with his back to her. But Cho noticed something else: the rest of Gryffindor House seemed to be avoiding Harry. There was several feet of empty table on either side of him, and it didn't seem to be accidental.
Cho looked at the shepherd's pie on the table, and was once again not hungry.
xxx
She didn't let her mind wander during Ancient Runes; they were so complicated that they required nothing less than full attention. On the other hand, Care of Magical Creatures was a doddle, since she'd already had experience with bowtruckles; her parents sold them in their shoppe.
At that evening's dinner in the Great Hall, conversation was taken up not with any of the Ravenclaws' new classes, but by rumours of Harry Potter. She sat down next to some Third-Years; their conversation was so animated that they didn't even notice Cho.
"Got into a real dust-up with Umbridge."
"Never!"
"Personally, I wouldn't put it past him."
"Yeh, he's fought a dragon before, hasn't he?"
"But this dragon's high up in the Ministry. He's jeopardising his whole life!"
"From what I hear, it may not be a long life. It's as if he's asking to get thrown into Azkaban."
"But nobody in their right mind would want that!"
"My point exactly."
This time Cho was very hungry, but still she didn't bother to eat; she was too agitated. She had to know what this was all about.
She noticed that a large knot of Ravenclaws were leaving the table, and this time the center of attention was Fifth-Year Padma Patil; her twin sister Parvati was in Harry's year in Gryffindor. Thinking that she'd know best what had really happened, Cho got up and followed the group through the corridors, into the West Wing, behind the tapestry (using the password "chthonic"), through the bookcase and into the Common Room. There was already a large group of students, apparently waiting for Padma. Apparently they'd had the same idea as Cho.
Padma, not usually one for making speeches or idle conversation, gave a sigh of resignation. "Listen up, everybody," she said loudly, "because I don't want to have to tell this whole bloody story again. I'm telling you the way Parvati told it to me. First of all, the way Umbridge teaches Dark Arts is utter rubbish. She doesn't teach anything at all! She just teaches the theory of defensive spells, but won't let anyone actually do the spells. And that book!" A few students, who apparently had Umbridge already, were nodding their heads; when Padma mentioned Slinkhard, all of them seemed have read the book before the term began.
"Anyway," Padma went on, "some of the Gryffindors--Parvati included--start talking back to her about the class, but then Harry Potter starts in on how we're going to be attacked by You-Know-Who." A few Ravenclaws chuckled derisively when Padma said that, which made Cho angry. "He even comes right out and says the Name, which costs Gryffindor ten points. But he keeps on about You-Know-Who being back, and Umbridge says he's lying, and Potter says the Ministry is lying, and the upshot is that he's got detention for a week!"
"Better him than me," muttered a Fourth-Year boy.
"Shouldn't have talked about the Ministry like that," Cho heard the girl next to her say.
"The last part of it was Umbridge saying that the Ministry believes that You-Know-Who hasn't been reborn, and isn't waging a new war or anything, and Potter says, 'Oh, so Cedric Diggory just sort of dropped dead, then?'"
Cho had resolved to be the last girl in her dormitory at night. That resolution was forgotten as she worked her way around the crowd still listening to Padma, dashed upstairs to the empty dorm, jumped into bed, drew the curtains, buried her face in her pillow, and wailed out the grief she'd been fighting off all day long. She cried herself to sleep.
That night, she had the Coffin Nightmare again. She woke out of it, again screaming Cedric's name. As soon as she did, someone opened her bed curtains.
All four of her dorm-mates were staring at her, wands lit. Raina was sad, almost in tears herself. Jan looked disgruntled at being woken up. Diana seemed merely curious as to what the noise was all about. And Marietta was trying to keep her face a blank mask, but some concern still showed through.
Cho looked at the others, all looking at her. She started to say "I'm sorry," but got no further before she started crying again, now out of shame and embarrassment instead of grief, and buried her face in her hands.
She heard Marietta say, "I'll take it from here, then," felt the Prefect crawl onto her bed, and heard the curtains being drawn again. Marietta gently pulled Cho's hands away from her face. "Has this been going on all summer?" All Cho could do was nod. "What do you usually do?"
"My ... My mother would ... Draught of Peace."
"Well, that's more than I happen to have in my pockets," Marietta said, smiling slightly. "Think you'll be all right without it? Or should I send you to Madam Pomfrey?"
"I ... I think I'll be fine now. At least, until morning."
"Let's see what we can sort out in the morning. Rest easy, Cho." Marietta let Cho alone and closed the bed curtains.
Cho laid back against her pillow, eyes wide open, trying to fight sleep. Before this she hadn't tried to simply go back to sleep after a nightmare, and now she was deathly afraid of embarrassing herself twice in one night. After almost an hour, sheer exhaustion overcame her, and she fell into a dreamless sleep.
xxx
Cho almost slept through breakfast Tuesday morning as a result, and attended the morning classes in a fog. It wasn't until her afternoon Transfiguration class that she felt even remotely like herself.
She spent the rest of the day and much of the night in the library working on her bowtruckle scroll for Professor Grubbly-Plank. She then relocated to the Common Room to work on Ancient Runes, and stayed up until midnight, when the Ravenclaws had Astronomy in the Tower.
An hour later, as she stumbled into bed with the others in her dormitory, Cho realized, with a bit of a jolt, that she'd gotten through the entire day without thinking of Cedric even once. She was vaguely bothered by that, but too sleepy to let it keep her up.
xxx
Wednesday morning Cho awoke at dawn, having slept more soundly than she had in days. Still it bothered her; if the only way to get a good night's sleep is to exhaust myself, I won't last a month.
As she parted the curtains of her bed, she saw Marietta putting on her robes. "How are you, then, Cho?"
"Fine, I suppose. Last night, did I--"
"No, and you don't have to worry about the others. I worked out a temporary solution."
"What's that?"
"Soundproofing Charms on all the other bed curtains. The castle could be falling apart and they wouldn't know."
"Well, that helps them, but--"
"I didn't soundproof your bed or mine. If you get in a bad way, I'll still be able to hear it and do something about it."
Cho smiled. "You're a better friend than I deserve, Marietta."
"Nonsense; I'm the Prefect. It's my job to keep track of everyone and sort out the problems. Ready for the day, then?"
Cho nodded. "The morning should be simple, at least."
She was right about that. First came History of Magic with Binns, who hardly anyone listened to; next, Advanced Charms with their Head of House, Professor Flitwick. Charms were never Cho's strongest subject, but Flitwick was so kindly and pleasant that she didn't mind making the extra effort.
Today, however, he kept Cho after class when the others had gone. "I never really had a chance to tell you about the Divination text on your book list."
"I assumed that the letter would be the same for everyone."
"No, they weren't all the same. And I recall why you wanted to leave Divination." Before term ended, Cho had walked up to the Divination professor, Madam Sybil Trelawney, and embarrassed her by asking why she did not foresee the death of Cedric Diggory. Later that day, she asked Professor Flitwick to place her in Muggle Studies instead of Divination.
"To tell the truth," Professor Flitwick continued, "I had hoped that you would reconsider over the summer. Sixth Year is, after all, when Professor Trelawney teaches Chinese methods of Divination such as the I Ching. I've heard reports that you are quite adept at these methods, and was hoping you would assist Professor Trelawney; from the source, as it were."
A student assisting a professor?! Cho was shocked, and honoured, and almost didn't notice Professor Flitwick continuing. "But that was before the arrival of our new ... of Professor Umbridge. She's already put the school on notice--just a few hints here and there, nothing formal--that she'll be reviewing the performance of every instructor at Hogwarts. The Ministry seems to have some sort of idea that the school poses a danger to the entire wizarding world. Rubbish, of course." Flitwick stopped a moment, his brows wrinkled in deep thought. He seemed to forget that Cho was there.
Then he came back to himself. "Well, it's all one. I did want to let you know what I was thinking. Under the circumstances, having a student assist an instructor would be an insult to the instructor; an indication that all was not well. However, I was hoping that you weren't still so opposed to Divination that--" Flitwick's voice trailed off, expectantly.
Cho shook her head. "I'm sorry, Professor. I meant what I said. What good is Divination if nobody saw what ... what would happen?"
"Oh, I'm sure someone saw it, Miss Chang. The Department of Mysteries at the Ministry has an excellent collection of prophecies, or so I understand. I'm sorry that this particular prophecy seems to have been, erm, overlooked at the critical moment. But, be that as it may, of course I'll allow you to change to Muggle Studies." Flitwick straightened his robes; they had been studying Levitation Spells, which had left everyone a bit rumpled.
"Thank you, Professor."
"And, Miss Chang, if there are any serious problems..."
"I promise I won't do anything foolish."
xxx
By the time she made her way to dinner in the Great Hall, Cho once again felt that coming back to Hogwarts at all might have been something foolish--colossally foolish.
Professor Idylwyld's Muggle Studies had started in on internal combustion engines. After a long and tedious lecture about the mechanical principles behind the engine, at the end of the period the class was assigned a five-scroll essay describing how the engine was linked to Muggle wars of conquest and political corruption. It seemed like university-level work to Cho, who groaned along with the rest of the Sixth-Years. But Cho also groaned because she knew she was headed for the first of two Potions classes of the week.
Cho had no idea how Snape had spent his summer holidays, but it hadn't improved his disposition. Barely were the Sixth-Year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs in their seats when Snape turned on them, almost ferociously.
"I have seen the phenomenon far too many times here at Hogwarts," he started, looking darkly at all of them. "The O.W.L.s are behind you now, the N.E.W.T.s are next year, so you consider yourselves able to glide through this year, able to, as the saying goes, 'skive off'. I promise you, you are wrong." He paced back and forth in front of the class, like a caged tiger at the zoo. "You have crossed over into Advanced Potions, and this will mean a great deal more work, more concentration, and more presence of mind than you have shown me in recent months.
"Miss Chang, briefly explain--if a Ravenclaw can be capable of explaining anything briefly--the significance of cinnabar to the ancient Chinese alchemists."
No, you won't, Professor Snape; you will not force me to humiliate myself the way you did my first day.
Cho took a deep breath, stood, and stared directly at Snape as she answered: "Cinnabar plays a role comparable to that of gold in Western traditions. The mercury contained within cinnabar is extracted and added to sulphur in a process performed nine times, which yields an elixir known as the Elixir of Return." With that, she sat, her eyes still locked on Snape.
Snape looked at her for a few seconds, then turned away and looked to the Hufflepuffs. "Miss McQuinch, the uses of mercury--ALL of them."
xxx
Once again, Cho hardly ate a bite at dinner. School was exhausting her; not the course work, but the stress of being back, of holding in her emotions when every stone in the walls reminded her of Cedric.
Raina was sitting across from Cho, her face full of concern. "Don't worry," she said. "I'm sure you'll feel better once you get back on a broom. When's your first practice?"
"Tomorrow night."
"We can all tell, you know," Raina went on as she dished herself some chicken curry. "We can always tell when you've been on a broom; your whole demeanor changes. It's really obvious. How long has it been?"
"Not since..." Cho started to choke up again, but forced it back. "The night of the Third Task."
Raina blushed, muttered a "Sorry," and started to rise. Cho grabbed the sleeve of Raina's robes.
"Don't go, please." Cho's lower lip trembled. "I--I don't mean to upset anyone, but I do it anyway and..."
Raina sat back down. The rest of the dinner was silent; Cho may have been glad for the company, but Raina seemed nervous, as if she might again say or do the wrong thing.
When they got to the Common Room after dinner, they saw a small crowd by the bay window. Padma Patil was once again holding forth; they heard the phrase "Harry Potter's detention." This stopped Cho in her tracks; she wanted to listen to this.
Raina, however, shook her head and started up the stairs to their dormitory, saying, "I can't listen." It would take a few weeks before Cho fully understood what that meant.
Meanwhile, Padma was explaining what happened to Harry's hand while he was writing lines for Umbridge. "Parvati said that you could actually read the scratches on the back of his hand".
Vincent Krixlow gave a low whistle. "She's usin' a damned Iron Quill; no doubt about it."
"Never heard of that one, mate," Pablo Molina said.
"Well, let's see," Vincent said, scanning the walls of books until he saw what he wanted. He pulled his wand and pointed it at the bookcase on the opposite wall: "Accio Fingdelly!" At once a slim grey-bound volume slipped out of the case and flew across the room, landing in Vincent's hand.
"This is 'Dark Devices and Demonic Doodads,'" Vincent went on. "It was written by Warren Fingdelly, and it's a nice little book full of nasty little things. Every one would be at home in Knock Turn Alley."
"Seems to me I saw that one in the Restricted section," Diana Fairweather began.
"Just borrowed it for a bit," Krixlow grinned. He was deliberately underplaying his ability to steal a Restricted book, hoping it would impress his Housemates--and it did. "Here it is," he said after thumbing through the book. "It says here the Iron Quill was invented in 1647 by Invidious Kafka, as a way to help Cromwell and the Puritans sort out the wizards from the Muggles. After the Restoration the Wizards Council banned its use, but every century or so someone's hauled it out again."
"What does it do, exactly?" Cho asked.
"Exactly, I couldn't tell you. That would take some serious Arithmancy to explain how it works, and I'm avoidin' Arithmancy like Filch was teachin' it. But, near as I can tell, there's some sort of ghost nib, you might say, that does to the back of your hand whatever you're doing to the paper with the real nib. So you really are writin' with your own blood."
"And she's a high-ranking Secretary in the Ministry?" asked Terry Boot. "She belongs in Saint Mungo's; that's sick!"
Cho nodded and settled into a comfy chair. She tried to read for her Runes assignment, but the late nights studying and early mornings were catching up with her. Her eyes started to water and go out of focus; she struggled to pay attention to the runes on the page...
She fought her way through a veritable forest of high grass, brown and dead but blocking her way. It was a struggle to make even a few inches of progress. Finally, though, she broke through.
She saw a pit. It was a huge pit; Cho imagined that it was what the lake would look like if it were drained of all water and baked for months under an unforgiving sun. The pit, and all the land around it, was brown, dead and dusty. And at the bottom of the pit was a strange looking machine. It looked vaguely like one of the old looms she'd read about in Muggle Studies, or an old Muggle printing press, or a little of both, and something else that made it look--just--wrong, like a plant or animal that has no business being alive.
Cho tried to get a closer look at the machine, but she couldn't; the pit was ringed with a wire fence; nothing could get into the pit. So it was with surprise that she saw figures down there, moving toward the machine. The Slytherin Quidditch team, in full uniforms, were marching by twos, guarding a naked Harry Potter. Harry's hands were tied and clasped in front of him, and Cho was too far away to see clearly, but she could tell that Harry was being held prisoner. She got up to the fence.
Just then a loud, high-pitched voice echoed through the pit: "HEM HEM!" It was Professor Umbridge, dressed in elaborate robes but still with those silly little-girl ribbons in her hair. "The prisoner has proven to be most reluctant to accept the authority of the Ministry. Instead, he has persisted in spreading pernicious lies that can only upset and disturb the wizarding community and cause people to mistrust the Ministry. Lesser means have failed to persuade him of the error of his ways; we therefore must render upon him the supreme judgment."
Cho looked back at the machine; Harry was now strapped to it, face down. Umbridge pointed her wand at the machine, and it started moving. The parts didn't move in a way that made any sense, and nothing seemed to be touching Harry Potter's back. But his back began turning pink, then red, then, even from her vantage point yards away, Cho could see the small red dots appearing on the prisoner's back. The number of dots grew and clustered together, until they formed great bloody gashes on his back--gashes that spelled out, in cursive script, "I MUST NOT TELL LIES"...
"CHO!"
Cho woke up. It took her a few seconds to realize that she had fallen asleep in the comfy chair. Jan Nugginbridge had been shaking her shoulder.
"Yeh were doin' it agin, weren't yeh? Dreamin' 'bout Cedric."
"What?" Cho was still confused from being awoken so suddenly. "Did I say anything?"
"Yeh were sayin', 'Take me! Take me instead!' Dreamin' 'bout that night, eh?"
Cho shook her head, hoping that Jan could not see her face, which Cho felt was burning crimson.
xxx
to be continued in part 9, wherein the Ravenclaw Quidditch team prepares for the year ahead
A/N: Cho's dream about Harry's torture is based on the literary work that, I believe, inspired JKRowling--and, if you haven't read it already, I recommend the short story "The Penal Colony" by Franz Kafka.