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
11. Your Only Option
A/N: OotP went into greater detail about the Ravenclaw Quidditch team than any of the previous books; as a result, some of my Original Characters from "Or Die Trying" will have to be dismissed, modified or otherwise accounted for. In this case, the Reserve Chaser formerly named Leigh Caporeale is now named Torrance "Torture" Chambers.
xxx
Sunday morning was everything Cho had hoped it would be. The sun shone brightly, the dampness of the rain had totally dried up, the grass of the pitch was firm and springy underfoot as the Ravenclaw team assembled after breakfast for its practice. Both Regulars and Reserves watched and waited as Roger Davies made a few notes on a scroll.
"Right," said Roger, noticing that his team had arrived. "Here's what I've decided. Bradley and Chambers are the new Chasers."
Cho nodded. The choices were good ones. Torrance Chambers had played two years earlier, when Cho had been laid up and Molina had had to play Seeker. Chambers knew how to work with Roger and against the opposing side. He was known in Ravenclaw House as "Torture" Chambers, but, except for his hard-charging performance on the pitch, was soft-spoken and even-tempered. Cho had asked about his nickname one time; he had just smiled and said, "I guess they didn't like to waste a good joke."
Preston Bradley, like Chambers, was a Fourth Year, but had developed a unique style during his years of practice. He was a cerebral player, befitting Ravenclaw House; he seemed to study the play, no matter how fast and aggressive it was. All of his movements, whether tossing the Quaffle himself or passing it to others, were precise and usually accurate. Combined with Roger's style of play, which was increasingly reckless but still under control, the Chasers would be a formidable offensive unit.
"I hope I'm right about a Keeper," Roger went on, "because I'm going with Millbanks."
Hugo Millbanks was a Third Year, but he'd shown surprising natural talent. He rode his Cleansweep casually, even sleepily, but he had a remarkable reach. If he couldn't actually stop the Quaffle, he could at least deflect it and stop it going in. He was a fine choice.
The practice itself was nearly flawless. Everybody seemed to be on top of their game. The Chasers had perfect control of the ball; the Beaters, who pulled their Bludgers rather than do any damage to their own side, were still able to disrupt things; Millbanks proved to be a better Keeper than even the rumours had had it. And Cho Chang found the Snitch within the first five minutes, and repeatedly caught it and let it go rather than interfere with the others' practice sessions.
Roger finally called a halt at noon. "Great practice, everyone," he gushed. "I didn't think it would all pull together so well after a year off. I think we've got a championship team again."
Jenkins spoke up: "Do you know what's the first match?"
"Gryffindor and Slytherin. Gives us that much more time to get ready. Now, don't let what I just said go to your heads. We're not perfect yet, but we can be by December. So; next Sunday morning, then."
"Roger."
This time Cho had stayed behind without Roger asking. "Was that satisfactory?" she asked with a bit of an edge to her voice.
"Better than that," Roger smiled. "Sorry I ever doubted you. It's just that, after, well ... I was worried."
"That's sweet of you, Rog," Cho smiled in return. "But I had to get back on the pitch to feel like myself. I think it'll be a much better year."
Roger nodded, and Cho left the stadium. She was smiling because of the Quidditch practice, and because of her meeting Harry Potter in the Owlery. The year might turn out well after all.
xxx
She began to doubt all that again that evening at dinner. Cho sat away from the others at first, then realized that Jan Nugginbridge had taken a seat next to her.
Jan didn't even look at Cho as she helped herself to lamb stew. "Lissen, Cho, I've been a right silly sausage about everything this week. I din't mean ter cut yer loose an' all."
"I'm sorry, too, Jan," Cho sighed. "I didn't think I'd disturb you all so much. Does the soundproofing spell help?"
"Yeh, loads. But, how long will this here go on?"
"I wish I knew. I still miss him so."
"Yeh. Well, I'd love teh help yeh out, but I don' think I can now. Not after Friday."
"What about Friday?"
"Tha' stunt yeh pulled talkin' back ter Umbridge."
"You don't mean to say that you agree with--"
"Look, Cho, she ain' jest another teacher. High up in the Ministry, she is, an' no good comes of goin' against the Ministry."
Once again, Cho had lost her appetite. "Sorry you feel that way, but the way she just ignored what happened to Cedric, I--I couldn't let that pass."
"Tha's all right, then, as long as it's outta yer system, and yeh hol' yer tongue."
Cho's voice dropped to a whisper, so that only Jan could hear the bitterness in it. "I'm sorry, but Cedric will never be 'out of my system', and I will be the one to say whether I hold my tongue! Excuse me." Cho stood up suddenly and left the Great Hall.
Emotion had been building up in her, and she didn't think she could get all the way to the West Wing and Ravenclaw House before she exploded. She rushed into the nearest girls' lavatory instead, locked herself into one of the stalls, sat on the toilet and let go of the little control she still had over her emotions. She sobbed and sobbed for ten minutes, not caring if anyone came in and heard her or not.
When she finally stopped and dried her eyes, the first thing she saw when she left the stall was Moaning Myrtle. She was floating at one of the sinks, so that it poked out through her ghostly stomach.
"It won't do you any good in the long run, you know." Myrtle said in her thin, nasal, ghostly voice. "I mean, I cried about my lot in life all the time I was alive, and it never got me anything."
"I'm different, then," Cho said as she washed up at the sink next to Myrtle. "I'm not trying to cry for anything, and certainly not for myself. But I know Cedric is never coming back."
"Don't be too sure," Myrtle smirked. "Lots of strange things happen in the world. I just heard a strange little thing about Umbridge, for example."
"I couldn't care less about Umbridge."
"But you should. You should care more about Umbridge, if you know what your skin's worth." But then the ghost sighed, as well as a ghost can, considering ghosts can't draw breath. "But then, what do I know? Just another miserable little ghost wandering around the halls of Hogwarts; what possible interesting crumbs could I pick up?"
She was fishing for either a conversation or a fight with Cho, who didn't feel like having either. "Sorry, Myrtle. I have to go now." And she took off before Myrtle could say another word.
On her way back to Ravenclaw, she turned it all around in her mind. Who did Jan think she was, to warn Cho off of talking about Umbridge? Even if she did it out of concern, why was she concerned? What could Umbridge possibly do to Cho, whether she spoke up in class or not? But then she remembered Saturday morning, and the spider web-like writing on the back of Harry Potter's hand. No, there was something definitely wrong with the woman; no teacher at Hogwarts had resorted to discipline by torture in centuries. The question really wasn't why Cho was speaking up about Umbridge, but why others weren't.
She was still turning these thoughts around in her head when she found herself in the Common Room. She remembered one assignment she still hadn't finished: Professor Grubbly-Plank had assigned essays on Demiguises. She walked up to her dormitory, and, as she opened the door, she heard Marietta Edgecombe telling the other girls: "...just got off the Floo with mummy, and..." She stopped dead as soon as she saw Cho.
Cho didn't say a word; she walked to her writing desk, took ink, a quill, scrolls and the books she needed, and walked back down to the Common Room. She worked on the paper until after midnight, when her head began to nod--
She had the Umbridge dream again, except that this time, she was being tortured instead of Harry. Cho was strapped onto the infernal machine, naked and face down, but she was able to get a look around the edge of the pit. She saw Snape and Malfoy, with identical sneers on their faces; she saw Harry, unable to do anything to help her, with tears pouring down his cheeks; she saw her dormitory mates and the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, talking nervously among themselves, surrounded by Dementors and unable to make a move as the machine rumbled to life, and Cho screamed as the machine's blades began to carve into her back--
and she awoke in the Common Room. She carried everything back up stairs, resolving to write the final lines of the essay in the morning.
xxx
When Cho awoke from a dreamless sleep in the morning, she had barely enough time to finish the Demiguise essay before breakfast. She gathered her books for the morning, donned her robes and went to the Great Hall without saying a word to her dorm mates.
Halfway through her oatmeal porridge, the mail owls arrived, including Quan Yin with a letter from her family. Cho noted immediately that this letter was different: it was written by her father, who never wrote to her.
"Dear Cho,
Your mother was very pleased to receive the gift of bulbs, and she'll respond to you in her own way and in her own time. For now, I must address another matter: the letter which preceded the gift of the bulbs.
I may have spoken before you left for school of the possibility of my obtaining a contract with the Ministry of Magic. This past Friday afternoon, after the latest in a series of meetings with someone from the Magical Creatures division of the Ministry, I am pleased to say that I have secured such a contract. The Ministry must keep examples of certain species for various research purposes, and our shop is now under contract to provide for the special diets of creatures ranging from flobberworms to dragons. This will mean more work for your mother and me (and for you, when you are on vacation), but also more Galleons in the bank to secure our futures and ease our circumstances in the present.
There is one regret attached to the contract. I have had to negotiate with Mr. Amos Diggory, whom you blame in part for his son's death. Whether this is true or not, he is my contact at the Ministry, and will have to come to the shoppe from time to time. I expect you, if you are there when he comes, to treat him civilly, as you would any other guest."
Cho felt as if she'd been stabbed in the heart with a blade of ice. How could you, she thought; how could you ask me to be civil toward him? Amos Diggory had indeed railed at his own son about his choice of girlfriends, dismissing Cho as a "squinty-eyed little alien". She would like nothing better than to pay him back in his own coin... She kept reading:
"Far more disturbing is your disrespectful attitude toward Dolores Umbridge. Not only is she your professor, she is still a Special Under-Secretary at the Ministry. Even though my contract is with the Magical Creatures division, it is still subject to her approval. She has been given a great deal of power at the Ministry, is extremely close to Fudge, and our family could well feel the repercussions if your feelings about her became too loudly voiced. Whether you like it or not, your only option at the moment is to keep your head down and try not to do anything that would risk this contract."
You too? How dare you lecture me about Umbridge?! She tossed the letter aside before she'd finished reading it, but in doing so a discarded copy of the Daily Prophet caught her eye. There she was, on the front page, her toad-like eyes staring out at the reader under the headline:
Dolores Umbridge Appointed First-Ever "High Inquisitor"
Cho sat numb, her mind absorbing the implications of this news. She almost forgot about her first class.
xxx
to be continued in part 12, wherein a joyless Sixth Year for Cho (Quidditch excepted) is altered by an unusual invitation.
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
11. Your Only Option
A/N: OotP went into greater detail about the Ravenclaw Quidditch team than any of the previous books; as a result, some of my Original Characters from "Or Die Trying" will have to be dismissed, modified or otherwise accounted for. In this case, the Reserve Chaser formerly named Leigh Caporeale is now named Torrance "Torture" Chambers.
xxx
Sunday morning was everything Cho had hoped it would be. The sun shone brightly, the dampness of the rain had totally dried up, the grass of the pitch was firm and springy underfoot as the Ravenclaw team assembled after breakfast for its practice. Both Regulars and Reserves watched and waited as Roger Davies made a few notes on a scroll.
"Right," said Roger, noticing that his team had arrived. "Here's what I've decided. Bradley and Chambers are the new Chasers."
Cho nodded. The choices were good ones. Torrance Chambers had played two years earlier, when Cho had been laid up and Molina had had to play Seeker. Chambers knew how to work with Roger and against the opposing side. He was known in Ravenclaw House as "Torture" Chambers, but, except for his hard-charging performance on the pitch, was soft-spoken and even-tempered. Cho had asked about his nickname one time; he had just smiled and said, "I guess they didn't like to waste a good joke."
Preston Bradley, like Chambers, was a Fourth Year, but had developed a unique style during his years of practice. He was a cerebral player, befitting Ravenclaw House; he seemed to study the play, no matter how fast and aggressive it was. All of his movements, whether tossing the Quaffle himself or passing it to others, were precise and usually accurate. Combined with Roger's style of play, which was increasingly reckless but still under control, the Chasers would be a formidable offensive unit.
"I hope I'm right about a Keeper," Roger went on, "because I'm going with Millbanks."
Hugo Millbanks was a Third Year, but he'd shown surprising natural talent. He rode his Cleansweep casually, even sleepily, but he had a remarkable reach. If he couldn't actually stop the Quaffle, he could at least deflect it and stop it going in. He was a fine choice.
The practice itself was nearly flawless. Everybody seemed to be on top of their game. The Chasers had perfect control of the ball; the Beaters, who pulled their Bludgers rather than do any damage to their own side, were still able to disrupt things; Millbanks proved to be a better Keeper than even the rumours had had it. And Cho Chang found the Snitch within the first five minutes, and repeatedly caught it and let it go rather than interfere with the others' practice sessions.
Roger finally called a halt at noon. "Great practice, everyone," he gushed. "I didn't think it would all pull together so well after a year off. I think we've got a championship team again."
Jenkins spoke up: "Do you know what's the first match?"
"Gryffindor and Slytherin. Gives us that much more time to get ready. Now, don't let what I just said go to your heads. We're not perfect yet, but we can be by December. So; next Sunday morning, then."
"Roger."
This time Cho had stayed behind without Roger asking. "Was that satisfactory?" she asked with a bit of an edge to her voice.
"Better than that," Roger smiled. "Sorry I ever doubted you. It's just that, after, well ... I was worried."
"That's sweet of you, Rog," Cho smiled in return. "But I had to get back on the pitch to feel like myself. I think it'll be a much better year."
Roger nodded, and Cho left the stadium. She was smiling because of the Quidditch practice, and because of her meeting Harry Potter in the Owlery. The year might turn out well after all.
xxx
She began to doubt all that again that evening at dinner. Cho sat away from the others at first, then realized that Jan Nugginbridge had taken a seat next to her.
Jan didn't even look at Cho as she helped herself to lamb stew. "Lissen, Cho, I've been a right silly sausage about everything this week. I din't mean ter cut yer loose an' all."
"I'm sorry, too, Jan," Cho sighed. "I didn't think I'd disturb you all so much. Does the soundproofing spell help?"
"Yeh, loads. But, how long will this here go on?"
"I wish I knew. I still miss him so."
"Yeh. Well, I'd love teh help yeh out, but I don' think I can now. Not after Friday."
"What about Friday?"
"Tha' stunt yeh pulled talkin' back ter Umbridge."
"You don't mean to say that you agree with--"
"Look, Cho, she ain' jest another teacher. High up in the Ministry, she is, an' no good comes of goin' against the Ministry."
Once again, Cho had lost her appetite. "Sorry you feel that way, but the way she just ignored what happened to Cedric, I--I couldn't let that pass."
"Tha's all right, then, as long as it's outta yer system, and yeh hol' yer tongue."
Cho's voice dropped to a whisper, so that only Jan could hear the bitterness in it. "I'm sorry, but Cedric will never be 'out of my system', and I will be the one to say whether I hold my tongue! Excuse me." Cho stood up suddenly and left the Great Hall.
Emotion had been building up in her, and she didn't think she could get all the way to the West Wing and Ravenclaw House before she exploded. She rushed into the nearest girls' lavatory instead, locked herself into one of the stalls, sat on the toilet and let go of the little control she still had over her emotions. She sobbed and sobbed for ten minutes, not caring if anyone came in and heard her or not.
When she finally stopped and dried her eyes, the first thing she saw when she left the stall was Moaning Myrtle. She was floating at one of the sinks, so that it poked out through her ghostly stomach.
"It won't do you any good in the long run, you know." Myrtle said in her thin, nasal, ghostly voice. "I mean, I cried about my lot in life all the time I was alive, and it never got me anything."
"I'm different, then," Cho said as she washed up at the sink next to Myrtle. "I'm not trying to cry for anything, and certainly not for myself. But I know Cedric is never coming back."
"Don't be too sure," Myrtle smirked. "Lots of strange things happen in the world. I just heard a strange little thing about Umbridge, for example."
"I couldn't care less about Umbridge."
"But you should. You should care more about Umbridge, if you know what your skin's worth." But then the ghost sighed, as well as a ghost can, considering ghosts can't draw breath. "But then, what do I know? Just another miserable little ghost wandering around the halls of Hogwarts; what possible interesting crumbs could I pick up?"
She was fishing for either a conversation or a fight with Cho, who didn't feel like having either. "Sorry, Myrtle. I have to go now." And she took off before Myrtle could say another word.
On her way back to Ravenclaw, she turned it all around in her mind. Who did Jan think she was, to warn Cho off of talking about Umbridge? Even if she did it out of concern, why was she concerned? What could Umbridge possibly do to Cho, whether she spoke up in class or not? But then she remembered Saturday morning, and the spider web-like writing on the back of Harry Potter's hand. No, there was something definitely wrong with the woman; no teacher at Hogwarts had resorted to discipline by torture in centuries. The question really wasn't why Cho was speaking up about Umbridge, but why others weren't.
She was still turning these thoughts around in her head when she found herself in the Common Room. She remembered one assignment she still hadn't finished: Professor Grubbly-Plank had assigned essays on Demiguises. She walked up to her dormitory, and, as she opened the door, she heard Marietta Edgecombe telling the other girls: "...just got off the Floo with mummy, and..." She stopped dead as soon as she saw Cho.
Cho didn't say a word; she walked to her writing desk, took ink, a quill, scrolls and the books she needed, and walked back down to the Common Room. She worked on the paper until after midnight, when her head began to nod--
She had the Umbridge dream again, except that this time, she was being tortured instead of Harry. Cho was strapped onto the infernal machine, naked and face down, but she was able to get a look around the edge of the pit. She saw Snape and Malfoy, with identical sneers on their faces; she saw Harry, unable to do anything to help her, with tears pouring down his cheeks; she saw her dormitory mates and the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, talking nervously among themselves, surrounded by Dementors and unable to make a move as the machine rumbled to life, and Cho screamed as the machine's blades began to carve into her back--
and she awoke in the Common Room. She carried everything back up stairs, resolving to write the final lines of the essay in the morning.
xxx
When Cho awoke from a dreamless sleep in the morning, she had barely enough time to finish the Demiguise essay before breakfast. She gathered her books for the morning, donned her robes and went to the Great Hall without saying a word to her dorm mates.
Halfway through her oatmeal porridge, the mail owls arrived, including Quan Yin with a letter from her family. Cho noted immediately that this letter was different: it was written by her father, who never wrote to her.
"Dear Cho,
Your mother was very pleased to receive the gift of bulbs, and she'll respond to you in her own way and in her own time. For now, I must address another matter: the letter which preceded the gift of the bulbs.
I may have spoken before you left for school of the possibility of my obtaining a contract with the Ministry of Magic. This past Friday afternoon, after the latest in a series of meetings with someone from the Magical Creatures division of the Ministry, I am pleased to say that I have secured such a contract. The Ministry must keep examples of certain species for various research purposes, and our shop is now under contract to provide for the special diets of creatures ranging from flobberworms to dragons. This will mean more work for your mother and me (and for you, when you are on vacation), but also more Galleons in the bank to secure our futures and ease our circumstances in the present.
There is one regret attached to the contract. I have had to negotiate with Mr. Amos Diggory, whom you blame in part for his son's death. Whether this is true or not, he is my contact at the Ministry, and will have to come to the shoppe from time to time. I expect you, if you are there when he comes, to treat him civilly, as you would any other guest."
Cho felt as if she'd been stabbed in the heart with a blade of ice. How could you, she thought; how could you ask me to be civil toward him? Amos Diggory had indeed railed at his own son about his choice of girlfriends, dismissing Cho as a "squinty-eyed little alien". She would like nothing better than to pay him back in his own coin... She kept reading:
"Far more disturbing is your disrespectful attitude toward Dolores Umbridge. Not only is she your professor, she is still a Special Under-Secretary at the Ministry. Even though my contract is with the Magical Creatures division, it is still subject to her approval. She has been given a great deal of power at the Ministry, is extremely close to Fudge, and our family could well feel the repercussions if your feelings about her became too loudly voiced. Whether you like it or not, your only option at the moment is to keep your head down and try not to do anything that would risk this contract."
You too? How dare you lecture me about Umbridge?! She tossed the letter aside before she'd finished reading it, but in doing so a discarded copy of the Daily Prophet caught her eye. There she was, on the front page, her toad-like eyes staring out at the reader under the headline:
Dolores Umbridge Appointed First-Ever "High Inquisitor"
Cho sat numb, her mind absorbing the implications of this news. She almost forgot about her first class.
xxx
to be continued in part 12, wherein a joyless Sixth Year for Cho (Quidditch excepted) is altered by an unusual invitation.