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
22. Turning of the Tide
Monday morning dawned brightly in the hospital wing. Cho felt as if spring was coming early; then realized that she had no reason to feel that way. She didn't relish what was about to happen.
She looked around the wing and didn't see Madam Pomfrey. Cho tried to get dressed and out before she showed up.
"No, you don't!"
Cho stopped in her tracks halfway to the door. Madam Pomfrey had been in a side-office, but came out when she heard Cho heading toward the door.
"I told you that you needed this before you could go back," she said, holding aloft the blue bottle of elixir.
"But I don't really need it, you see. I mean, I've hardly eaten a thing all weekend, and..."
"And yet I catch you sneaking out against medical advice. You surprise me, Miss Chang; most Ravenclaws have more sense."
Yes, Cho thought, but most Ravenclaws haven't made utter fools of themselves in Hogsmeade in front of students and villagers. What makes you think I want to go to breakfast in the Great Hall so they can laugh at me? After that little display, I probably don't have a friend left in the castle.
Madam Pomfrey didn't say anything more; she simply opened the bottle and poured some Arbuthnot's Appetite Enhancement Elixir into a spoon. It looked a bit like clotted cream, but it didn't smell so bad. Cho took the spoon and swallowed the elixir.
"NOW you can go," Madam Pomfrey smiled, "and it's high time. Your Prefect has been waiting an hour for you."
With that, Marietta stepped out of the side-office where Pomfrey had been. "Come on, then," she smiled at Cho, "breakfast won't keep forever."
"Let's go to the dorm first," Cho said quickly; "there's something I have to take care of."
Everyone seemed to be at breakfast; they passed no one in the corridors, and the Ravenclaw Common Room was empty. Cho immediately sat down at her writing-desk, and started to write on a blank scroll:
"Dear Penny,
You told me this summer that you didn't understand how you could love and hate someone at the same time. I think I finally understand you..."
But that was as far as Cho got with the letter. The elixir had kicked in, and she had a sudden craving for oatmeal porridge, and a bit of eggs, with kippers on the side--
She rolled up the scroll and put it in a drawer of her desk, thinking to finish it up later. She grabbed her school robes and book-bag, and ended up almost dragging Marietta back to the Great Hall. If anyone said anything to Cho at breakfast, or even looked at her oddly, she didn't notice. She didn't eat so very much, but it was one of the largest meals she'd had since the holidays, and left her too full to even think about lunch. When she went to the Great Hall with Marietta for dinner, she was almost back to her old self.
They were talking about the Care of Magical Creatures class they had just left; it had clearly been one of the worst they had ever seen. Professor Hagrid seemed to turn up every week with fresh cuts and bruises, as if he'd spent the weekend wrestling with trolls ("Which wouldn't surprise me a bit," Marietta added). Today, however, he was talking about Nogtails, and it should have been a simple, straightforward lesson. He kept losing the thread of his lecture, however, rambling off in odd digressions, forgetting students' names and failing to assign points for answers.
"Either he's got a brain injury from whatever he's been fighting," Marietta said as they entered the Great Hall for dinner, "or he's taken to drink."
"Yes," Cho sighed, "I thought I smelled something of the sort on him."
"Either way, he's getting to be useless as a teacher. Madam Umbridge will be letting him go at this rate."
"Well, I don't much like that," Cho said as they sat down at the Ravenclaw table. "Maybe he's been drinking too much because of Umbridge and her inspections. He's afraid of the pressure."
"Well, he shouldn't be afraid of inspections. No teacher worth his or her wand would be. If he and Trelawney can't handle the pressure, they're well out of here."
"I have nothing to say about Trelawney," Cho muttered, helping herself to chicken-and-ham pie. "But Umbridge is part of the problem."
"I don't know about that," Marietta said reflectively. "She had me into her office this weekend for a chat; talking to all the Prefects, I expect. But it seemed rather cosy, the two of us chatting like adults, away from all the young kids here."
Cho nodded and was glad her mouth was full; it gave her a reason not to complain about Umbridge.
Marietta waited until Cho swallowed her food; then, she lowered her voice and said, "Speaking of younger students, exactly what happened in Hogsmeade on Saturday with you and Harry?"
In that moment, Cho realized that, when she walked in, she hadn't taken a second to look over to the Gryffindor table to see whether Harry was there; she also realized that she was deliberately seated with her back to the Gryffindors.
Marietta sat next to her, waiting for an answer. Cho sighed. "What happened? Absolutely nothing that I want to talk about."
"Why not, if it wasn't your fault?"
"But I ... he ... that's just it. I don't know who's at fault."
"It's just that rumours circulate in a place like this. I've heard that he struck you, that you threw something--"
"The only thing thrown was confetti! Marietta, please leave it alone!"
"But the point is, what's the next meeting going to be like?"
"Well, we won't have to worry about that until next week anyway. Gryffindor and Hufflepuff play on Saturday, and they've called extra practices this week."
"Well, when it happens?"
Cho set down her fork. "I don't know," she said softly. "Part of me wants the most bloody-minded sort of revenge, and another part of me thinks that I should be the civilised one, and treat him better than he treated me, no matter how it makes me feel."
"And how is that?"
"I don't know," she said again. "With Cedric it all seemed to come naturally. Now it seems I've forgotten all that; nothing is working the way it should."
Marietta took a sip from her water goblet. "And you don't feel like dropping him altogether?"
"If I did," Cho smiled sadly, "we wouldn't be having this talk. Now, I am declaring this subject closed! We have Artithmancy tomorrow, and I still can't get chapter seventeen straight."
They rose from the table and left the Great Hall, with Cho still not looking at the Gryffindors--
no matter how desperately part of her wanted to.
xxx
"Right-o, Hogwarts, and welcome!"
The stadium seats were as full as ever, even though the temperature had taken a bit of a dip by Saturday; the unseasonal warmth of the week before had been replaced by a nip in the air more typical of February.
"It all has to do with the Muggles," Luna was saying to nobody in particular as the Ravenclaws walked to the Quidditch stadium. "My father says that they keep mucking about with their own potions, and it's opened up a big hole in the sky. That's why the weather's gone all a-flutter."
Hole in the sky? Typical Luna, Cho thought. You'd think even Muggles would take notice of something like that ...
She settled in to watch the Gryffindor team play Hufflepuff, glancing over to the Gryffindor benches at times. There he was, a spectator rather than a Seeker. Part of her remembered what she'd said and thought on the way to Hogsmeade the week before, and she wanted to go over to Harry, even if he was sitting next to Granger, wanted to talk to him, wanted to comfort him-- But then she remembered what he'd said, what he'd done...
She shouldn't be looking at Harry anyway. This would be the first game for Gryffindor since Harry and the Weasley twins were banned, and Roger expected the team to study the replacements. The new Seeker was Ginny Weasley, younger sister of Ron, Fred and George; she was in Dumbledore's Army, too. The new Beaters weren't, and she had to watch them as well.
She only watched them for twenty-two minutes. The Hufflepuffs took advantage of Keeper Ron Weasley, whose playing seemed even more inept than it had during his first game. They scored against him almost at will, and had run up the score as high and as fast as they could. But the Gryffindors were tenacious, hanging on until the score was 230-80. Cho, who had spent so much time thinking in terms of a gap of 150 points, knew that this was critical. If Gryffindor got the Snitch, the score would be 230-230, but Gryffindor would win. And Ginny Weasley and Summerby had both seen the Snitch, they were jostling each other for position, reaching, grabbing...
Summerby hesitated.
Hooch's whistle blew.
Weasley grabbed the Snitch--
and Gryffindor lost!
"Well, of course, it was her first time out, wasn't it," Roger Davies was saying as a group of Ravenclaws walked back to the castle. "If she'd kept her eye on the rings as well as the Snitch, she'd have seen that last Hufflepuff goal and batted the Snitch away or something. She got the Snitch and handed Gryffindor the win."
"Like Krum did at the World Cup," Cho nodded.
Davies glanced at Cho. "Exactly. Well, it's our turn in six weeks, right? Gives us lots of time, but we can't waste any of it against Slytherin. See you at practice." And he jogged on ahead.
What was that all about? Was he trying not to say something about my being at Madam Puddifoot's with Harry? Or was he afraid I'd say something about him and Annabella Smoot? Looks to be a touchy subject for both of us. Best forget all about it ...
xxx
Monday didn't feel out of the ordinary at first; just another day of Cho trying to avoid her dorm-mates after another nightmare (this time, she was in the garden with Cedric, who turned into a werewolf and began tearing at her throat...). She knew Marietta's soundproofing charm still held, but not for Marietta, of course. Cho still felt shame at putting her friend through this...
Cho was halfway across the Common Room, headed for breakfast, when Pablo Molina's voice overpowered everyone's chatting, reading, and thinking:
"POTTER SAID WHAT???!!!"
Vincent Krixlow held up a copy of the Quibbler, with its dramatic headline: HARRY POTTER SPEAKS OUT AT LAST
"I can't believe you trust anything that says," Diana Fairweather said. "Didn't they say Sirius Black was really one of the Weird Sisters?"
"No," Vincent smirked, "it was one of the Hobgoblins. Anyway, he goes on about Diggory and--"
Pablo motioned for Vincent to hush, but Cho had already heard. She looked at Vincent for a minute, then turned and ran out of the Common Room.
She found an empty classroom just the other side of the hospital wing, and there she fell onto one of the benches, crying yet again. This time, however, she started crying over her memories of Cedric, then over Harry Potter:
Why didn't he tell me? I told him I had to know--I NEED to know! Why would he tell the Quibbler and not me?!
She pulled herself together and went to the Great Hall. On the way, Cho thought about the interview. The Quibbler comes out on Sundays, but the interview must have been very recent. It's not as if they have a lot to write about; probably make up half of it as they need it. Anyway, it must have come out yesterday, so Harry talked to them a week, maybe ten days ago--
Valentine's Day? What have I done?
She broke into a run, and nearly collided with Luna Lovegood. "Ah, Cho! You just missed it."
"Missed what?"
"Umbridge told Harry that he's on detention for a week and he can never go to Hogsmeade ever again. Isn't that wonderful!"
"I don't see how..."
"Because of the interview, you see. In the Quibbler. Dad always says that you don't know if they're paying attention unless they try to attack you."
Cho was utterly lost now. Umbridge was attacking Harry because of the interview?
"I listened to it all, of course, when Harry was telling it. In the Three Broomsticks on Valentine's."
Cho's stomach turned to lead. "Was Hermione Granger there?" she asked weakly.
"Of course, and she brought along that writer who was hanging about here last year, Rita Skeeter. She did all the writing. There's a few things I would have changed, but ..."
Cho ran out of the Great Hall, trying to get back to Ravenclaw. He was going to talk about that night after all, Cho thought dismally to herself, and he wanted me to be there when he did. And I-- Merlin and Morgana, what have I done?!
She got to the tapestry of Athena, gave the password ("heuristic"), touched the spine of her copy of the Analects of Confucius, and found herself back in the Common Room. Jan Nigginbridge was just coming down the stairs.
"Jan! Do you have a Quibbler?"
"Yeh're only about the tenth person teh ask," she said. "What's so special about it, then?"
"Tell you about it in class," Vincent said.
This reminded Cho: she had to go up and get her books for Astronomy. They'd have Herbology after that, and maybe Cho could find out more about the interview in the Greenhouse.
xxx
Which is almost what happened. Professor Sinistra cut off all talk of the interview at once: "This is an Astronomy course, not a History lesson. I don't want to hear any questions about anything except the Crab Nebula. As for my own opinion, I believe that the interview speaks for itself, and that is my final word on it!"
Information came easier in the Greenhouse. Madam Sprout had put them to work extracting the sap from Rumanian bitter vetch, but the whispered conversations at the benches had little to do with sap.
"Have yeh read it, then?" Jan asked Raina.
"Better hurry if you haven't," Vincent interrupted. "You've seen the signs."
Indeed they had. Between the first and second classes of the day, posters had suddenly appeared in most of the corridors, looking like advertisements for Muggle rock concerts. Except that these posters were copies of Educational Decree Number Twenty-seven:
"Any student found in possession of the magazine The Quibbler will be expelled."
"There's justice for you," muttered Pablo. "Any student. That means Umbitch and the faculty can read it whenever they like."
"I wonder if that includes back numbers," Diana Fairweather asked. "I mean, it didn't specify the Potter interview, did it? It just said The Quibbler."
"And we all know why," Vincent whispered, glancing over at Madam Sprout, as she left Greenhouse Number Three to get some soil from the supply shed. When she'd gone, he spoke up: "It just shows that the Ministry's been talking nothing but dragon dung since the Tournament."
Pablo nodded. "And Umbitch still has more to do with the Ministry than with Hogwarts."
Marietta put her clippers down rather noisily on the bench. "I don't understand how you can all give automatic credence to a paper that's only been full of bizarre fantasies and outright lies!"
"True enuf," Jan nodded. "Mostly they're keen on creatures that never were an' people that never did nothin'."
"But this is different," Vincent shook his head. "Most of the Quibbler writers are eccentric old wizards who can't do anything else or newcomers who couldn't get a berth on the Prophet. They follow the same old formula the paper always had. This piece was by a professional--"
"Skeeter?? Hardly!"
"All right, she's fallen on hard times, and yes, she brought it on herself with that crap she wrote during the Tournament. But it's really Potter's words more than her writing them down. I think they ring true."
"You want them to ring true," Diana said. "Look at the Death Eaters he 'names', the ones who were supposedly there when You-Know-Who came back. I mean, it's no big surprise, is it: Crabbe, Goyle, Malfoy? They've been at wands drawn with Potter since First Year."
"But not Walden McNair; he's in the Ministry, in Magical Creatures," Pablo interrupted. "And this man Avery, and Nott. Well, he's got a son here in Slytherin, but I don't think he's ever done anything to Potter."
"Exactly!" Vincent thumped the table. "If Potter was just out to settle old scores, by telling any old story he could think of, don't you think he'd name Snape, or Umbridge, or Filch..."
"I'd name Filch meself," Jan muttered, "fer some o' the things he's said about Coriander."
Marietta and Cho were now just about the only students still working on the Rumanian bitter vetch, Marietta making a clear effort to hold her tongue, while Cho was wondering why it was taking Professor Sprout so long to get some potting soil from the shed.
Just then, she came back from the shed with the potting soil; her eyes were red and swollen and there was a bulge like a rolled-up scroll in the pocket of her robes. She put the canvas bags of soil on a table, and turned to look at everyone looking at her. "Just ... carry on, dears, don't mind me." She retired to a corner of the greenhouse, sat on a stool and stared out through the windows at the bleak winter landscape.
That does it, Cho decided: I HAVE to read that interview!
Cho couldn't wait; before going to lunch she raced back to her dorm room, quickly wrote a scroll in Chinese, tied it to Quan Yin's leg and released her. She watched the owl as it flew beyond the borders of Hogwarts Academy. She still couldn't believe that the school would interfere with owl posts, but then she realizes that she was no longer sure what she believed.
When she went down for lunch and dinner, she again made a point of not looking at the Gryffindor table, sitting with her back to it. But not because she was snubbing the Gryffindors. She didn't want to look at Harry--not yet. She didn't know what she'd do, how she'd act.
The interview, she told herself. First I have to read the interview.
This didn't prove to be easy. Marietta stayed close by Cho, as if she knew Cho was trying to find a way around Edict number twenty-seven, and Cho's disobedience would reflect on her Prefect.
Cho didn't mind. She knew that she might have to wait a day to hear from her mother. Besides, as long as Marietta kept her eye on Cho, she was less likely to interfere with anyone else in Ravenclaw House. They deserved a chance to read the thing themselves.
xxx
Cho was up at dawn. Quan Yin hadn't returned yet. Well, it was a long way to Diagon Alley and back.
She dressed and went down to the Common Room. A few Ravenclaws hastily shut books or scrolls they were reading, saw that it was Cho, then began reading again. Is it that powerful, she wondered.
As she walked to the Great Hall, Michael Corner fell in behind Cho, trying to seem as if he wasn't talking to her. "Going to breakfast?"
"Where else?"
"You might want to think of someplace else. Umbitch is within a werewolf's whisker of losing her mind."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I mean, yesterday she issued the Edict banning the interview, but hasn't found one single copy of it yet. She's dying to make an example of somebody—anybody."
"Well, I don't have a copy, so I'm fine. Besides, I think I can take care of myself."
"Here's hoping." Corner dropped back just before entering the Great Hall; when Cho went to the Ravenclaw table, Corner went by way of the Gryffindors, to chat up Ginny Weasley.
Harry and Ron had raced through an early breakfast as they waited for the morning post to arrive. This time there were easily fifty owls that landed on the Gryffindor table, jostling for position and creating a complete mess of breakfast. Harry, Ron and Ginny gathered up the letters, then raced back to Gryffindor House to open and read them.
Hermione stayed behind to read the Daily Prophet and see how (or if) the Ministry had reacted to the Quibbler interview. Which meant that she got to witness Cho's small act of rebellion.
Cho had entered the Great Hall while Ron and Harry were gathering the day's letters. They didn't see her, and she was of two minds about that. It was still less than two weeks since Cho was publicly humiliated at Madam Puddifoot's—although she had to admit that she embarrassed herself about as much as Harry had embarrassed her. Still, she wasn't quite ready to forgive him; but then again, if even half the things people were saying about the interview were true; but then, what did one thing have to do with the other anyway… By then she was seated at the Ravenclaw table and Harry and Ron were gone.
She glanced at the Head Table and saw Professor Umbridge looking out over the students, her head slowly turning side to side like a snake's. Cho knew exactly what she was looking for. She was desperate to expel someone under the new Edict, just to prove that her words still carried the weight of the Ministry.
Quan Yin set down in front of Cho; she quickly untied the scroll from the owl's leg and started reading. As she read, her eyes grew wider and wider; she had to remember to breathe…
"Miss Chang."
Umbridge had fixed her gaze on the Ravenclaw Seeker. Even if Umbridge still had no clue about Dumbledore's Army, she must have heard about Harry and Cho's interest in each other—unsettled though it may be. The odds seemed good that Cho would have a copy of the Quibbler interview.
Cho looked to the Head Table: "Yes, ma'am?"
"I would like you to read aloud the letter you were reading so intently just now."
All eyes were on Cho. If she had been reading the interview, the students knew that Umbridge could expel her from Hogwarts on the spot.
Cho nodded her head slightly and said, barely above a whisper, "Yes, ma'am." She stood up, picked up Quan Yin's document, and started to read, loudly and clearly:
"JIN TIAN SHIWU LAO DE NANWU HA LI PO--"
"STOP THAT!" Umbridge's face was red, rapidly turning purple. She actually jumped down from the Head Table and walked down to stand across from Cho. She obviously counted on her closeness intimidating any student; all Cho felt for this silly little woman was contempt, but she tried hard not to show it.
"Once again, please, in English," Umbridge's simpering voice could still be heard throughout the Great Hall.
"Ma'am, this is a letter about family matters…"
"I don't recall asking what it was about," Umbridge said, attempting a sweet smile. "From the beginning, please."
Cho cleared her throat and began again:
"Dear Cho,
Your grandmother is feeling much better after her bout of bloody diarrhea. She—"
"STOP IT!!" Umbridge's face had gone to full purple. She snatched the scroll from Cho's hand and pointed her wand at the meticulously brushed Chinese characters. "Translingua!" The letter didn't change. "Anglo!" The letter didn't change.
Cho stood at the table across from Umbridge, waiting for the crowning moment to ask quietly, "Will there be anything else, ma'am?"
Umbridge looked mad enough to take on a Dementor. She threw Cho's letter down on the table and stormed toward the doors to the Great Hall. But, before she was halfway there, the miracle happened:
someone giggled.
Nobody knew who or at which table, and the room fell silent again as Umbridge stopped in her tracks and scanned the room, looking for the offender. She was too short, however, to see all the faces clearly from the main floor, so she gave it up and continued, no less angrily, marching toward the doors. As she passed, she heard soft chuckles and smothered snickers, but knowing that she wouldn't be able to catch the students only made her angrier.
As soon as she had passed out of the Great Hall, students simply gave up and burst out laughing. Not all of the students, but two or three dozen, and even a Slytherin or two. Umbridge was still in charge, but she had been made to look a complete fool. It was as if Cho had cast a Riddikulus spell on her.
Roger Davies, who had given up trying to hide the grin on his face, pointed at Cho's letter. "Is that?"
Cho nodded. "I asked my mother to send it along. I'm glad she knew enough to protect it."
Roger chuckled. "Good one, Cho."
He went back to Ravenclaw House, while Cho gathered up the letter and went to Muggle Studies. However, she ended up hearing not one word that Professor Idylwyld was saying. She couldn't tear herself away from the interview. Even in Chinese, Harry's words were so powerful that Cho couldn't help it. She read and reread the Quibbler interview, until her eyes swam with tears.
She had stopped being resentful that Harry would talk about that night with Rita Skeeter but not with her. In a sense, she felt that Harry really was speaking to her, through Rita, telling Cho what she needed to hear but in a way in which he was comfortable. Or as comfortable as he could be, recalling Voldemort's arising from near-death in the churchyard of Little Hangleton, surrounded by his Death Eaters—some of whom Harry had the bravery to call by name! And those names…! Wizards and witches in the Ministry were apparently still under Voldemort's control.
But there was time enough to worry about that later. Cho knew what she had to do. Harry had given out his schedule to Dumbledore's Army back in October, in case any of them needed to contact him, and Cho needed to contact him now. She caught up with Harry outside of McGonagall's Transfiguration classroom. Without a word of greeting she took Harry's hand in both of hers.
"I'm sorry for shouting at you," "I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions about Granger", "I'm sorry about running off and ruining our one day together,",,, Those sentences and a dozen others jumbled themselves in her mind, trying to be spoken at once, and all that came out, barely above a whisper as she stood close enough to Harry to breathe the words into his ear, was, "I'm really, really sorry." She took a breath. "That interview was…" Again she had to stop, with countless adjectives competing for her tongue. She breathed again, and the next words out of her mouth were inspired by Harry's Gryffindor patch: "so brave." Again a breath, as Cho tried to sort out what of a hundred sentences to say next. She started with, "It made me cry…" But Cho didn't mean the interview, although she wept afresh for Cedric as she finally read Harry's first-hand account of the details of his death. She meant to say, "It made me cry to think of what a fool I've been, and how awfully I've treated you…"
But it was as if Cho only now became aware of the rest of the Fifth Year Gryffindors watching her. As the Ravenclaw Seeker she could bear having the entire school watch her on a broom, but not at this time and place. So she quickly kissed Harry on the cheek; then, with damp eyes but a happier smile on her face than most of the students at Hogwarts had seen all year, she turned and dashed away to her Arithmancy class. Once she got there, though, she didn't focus on the lesson. Her thoughts were too full of Harry's interview—and of Harry, and the feel of his hand in hers.
xxx
to be continued in part 23, wherein Cho plays her toughest match yet against a desperate Slytherin team ...
A/N: If the Chinese translation isn't proper, in vocabulary or grammar, I take full blame.
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
22. Turning of the Tide
Monday morning dawned brightly in the hospital wing. Cho felt as if spring was coming early; then realized that she had no reason to feel that way. She didn't relish what was about to happen.
She looked around the wing and didn't see Madam Pomfrey. Cho tried to get dressed and out before she showed up.
"No, you don't!"
Cho stopped in her tracks halfway to the door. Madam Pomfrey had been in a side-office, but came out when she heard Cho heading toward the door.
"I told you that you needed this before you could go back," she said, holding aloft the blue bottle of elixir.
"But I don't really need it, you see. I mean, I've hardly eaten a thing all weekend, and..."
"And yet I catch you sneaking out against medical advice. You surprise me, Miss Chang; most Ravenclaws have more sense."
Yes, Cho thought, but most Ravenclaws haven't made utter fools of themselves in Hogsmeade in front of students and villagers. What makes you think I want to go to breakfast in the Great Hall so they can laugh at me? After that little display, I probably don't have a friend left in the castle.
Madam Pomfrey didn't say anything more; she simply opened the bottle and poured some Arbuthnot's Appetite Enhancement Elixir into a spoon. It looked a bit like clotted cream, but it didn't smell so bad. Cho took the spoon and swallowed the elixir.
"NOW you can go," Madam Pomfrey smiled, "and it's high time. Your Prefect has been waiting an hour for you."
With that, Marietta stepped out of the side-office where Pomfrey had been. "Come on, then," she smiled at Cho, "breakfast won't keep forever."
"Let's go to the dorm first," Cho said quickly; "there's something I have to take care of."
Everyone seemed to be at breakfast; they passed no one in the corridors, and the Ravenclaw Common Room was empty. Cho immediately sat down at her writing-desk, and started to write on a blank scroll:
"Dear Penny,
You told me this summer that you didn't understand how you could love and hate someone at the same time. I think I finally understand you..."
But that was as far as Cho got with the letter. The elixir had kicked in, and she had a sudden craving for oatmeal porridge, and a bit of eggs, with kippers on the side--
She rolled up the scroll and put it in a drawer of her desk, thinking to finish it up later. She grabbed her school robes and book-bag, and ended up almost dragging Marietta back to the Great Hall. If anyone said anything to Cho at breakfast, or even looked at her oddly, she didn't notice. She didn't eat so very much, but it was one of the largest meals she'd had since the holidays, and left her too full to even think about lunch. When she went to the Great Hall with Marietta for dinner, she was almost back to her old self.
They were talking about the Care of Magical Creatures class they had just left; it had clearly been one of the worst they had ever seen. Professor Hagrid seemed to turn up every week with fresh cuts and bruises, as if he'd spent the weekend wrestling with trolls ("Which wouldn't surprise me a bit," Marietta added). Today, however, he was talking about Nogtails, and it should have been a simple, straightforward lesson. He kept losing the thread of his lecture, however, rambling off in odd digressions, forgetting students' names and failing to assign points for answers.
"Either he's got a brain injury from whatever he's been fighting," Marietta said as they entered the Great Hall for dinner, "or he's taken to drink."
"Yes," Cho sighed, "I thought I smelled something of the sort on him."
"Either way, he's getting to be useless as a teacher. Madam Umbridge will be letting him go at this rate."
"Well, I don't much like that," Cho said as they sat down at the Ravenclaw table. "Maybe he's been drinking too much because of Umbridge and her inspections. He's afraid of the pressure."
"Well, he shouldn't be afraid of inspections. No teacher worth his or her wand would be. If he and Trelawney can't handle the pressure, they're well out of here."
"I have nothing to say about Trelawney," Cho muttered, helping herself to chicken-and-ham pie. "But Umbridge is part of the problem."
"I don't know about that," Marietta said reflectively. "She had me into her office this weekend for a chat; talking to all the Prefects, I expect. But it seemed rather cosy, the two of us chatting like adults, away from all the young kids here."
Cho nodded and was glad her mouth was full; it gave her a reason not to complain about Umbridge.
Marietta waited until Cho swallowed her food; then, she lowered her voice and said, "Speaking of younger students, exactly what happened in Hogsmeade on Saturday with you and Harry?"
In that moment, Cho realized that, when she walked in, she hadn't taken a second to look over to the Gryffindor table to see whether Harry was there; she also realized that she was deliberately seated with her back to the Gryffindors.
Marietta sat next to her, waiting for an answer. Cho sighed. "What happened? Absolutely nothing that I want to talk about."
"Why not, if it wasn't your fault?"
"But I ... he ... that's just it. I don't know who's at fault."
"It's just that rumours circulate in a place like this. I've heard that he struck you, that you threw something--"
"The only thing thrown was confetti! Marietta, please leave it alone!"
"But the point is, what's the next meeting going to be like?"
"Well, we won't have to worry about that until next week anyway. Gryffindor and Hufflepuff play on Saturday, and they've called extra practices this week."
"Well, when it happens?"
Cho set down her fork. "I don't know," she said softly. "Part of me wants the most bloody-minded sort of revenge, and another part of me thinks that I should be the civilised one, and treat him better than he treated me, no matter how it makes me feel."
"And how is that?"
"I don't know," she said again. "With Cedric it all seemed to come naturally. Now it seems I've forgotten all that; nothing is working the way it should."
Marietta took a sip from her water goblet. "And you don't feel like dropping him altogether?"
"If I did," Cho smiled sadly, "we wouldn't be having this talk. Now, I am declaring this subject closed! We have Artithmancy tomorrow, and I still can't get chapter seventeen straight."
They rose from the table and left the Great Hall, with Cho still not looking at the Gryffindors--
no matter how desperately part of her wanted to.
xxx
"Right-o, Hogwarts, and welcome!"
The stadium seats were as full as ever, even though the temperature had taken a bit of a dip by Saturday; the unseasonal warmth of the week before had been replaced by a nip in the air more typical of February.
"It all has to do with the Muggles," Luna was saying to nobody in particular as the Ravenclaws walked to the Quidditch stadium. "My father says that they keep mucking about with their own potions, and it's opened up a big hole in the sky. That's why the weather's gone all a-flutter."
Hole in the sky? Typical Luna, Cho thought. You'd think even Muggles would take notice of something like that ...
She settled in to watch the Gryffindor team play Hufflepuff, glancing over to the Gryffindor benches at times. There he was, a spectator rather than a Seeker. Part of her remembered what she'd said and thought on the way to Hogsmeade the week before, and she wanted to go over to Harry, even if he was sitting next to Granger, wanted to talk to him, wanted to comfort him-- But then she remembered what he'd said, what he'd done...
She shouldn't be looking at Harry anyway. This would be the first game for Gryffindor since Harry and the Weasley twins were banned, and Roger expected the team to study the replacements. The new Seeker was Ginny Weasley, younger sister of Ron, Fred and George; she was in Dumbledore's Army, too. The new Beaters weren't, and she had to watch them as well.
She only watched them for twenty-two minutes. The Hufflepuffs took advantage of Keeper Ron Weasley, whose playing seemed even more inept than it had during his first game. They scored against him almost at will, and had run up the score as high and as fast as they could. But the Gryffindors were tenacious, hanging on until the score was 230-80. Cho, who had spent so much time thinking in terms of a gap of 150 points, knew that this was critical. If Gryffindor got the Snitch, the score would be 230-230, but Gryffindor would win. And Ginny Weasley and Summerby had both seen the Snitch, they were jostling each other for position, reaching, grabbing...
Summerby hesitated.
Hooch's whistle blew.
Weasley grabbed the Snitch--
and Gryffindor lost!
"Well, of course, it was her first time out, wasn't it," Roger Davies was saying as a group of Ravenclaws walked back to the castle. "If she'd kept her eye on the rings as well as the Snitch, she'd have seen that last Hufflepuff goal and batted the Snitch away or something. She got the Snitch and handed Gryffindor the win."
"Like Krum did at the World Cup," Cho nodded.
Davies glanced at Cho. "Exactly. Well, it's our turn in six weeks, right? Gives us lots of time, but we can't waste any of it against Slytherin. See you at practice." And he jogged on ahead.
What was that all about? Was he trying not to say something about my being at Madam Puddifoot's with Harry? Or was he afraid I'd say something about him and Annabella Smoot? Looks to be a touchy subject for both of us. Best forget all about it ...
xxx
Monday didn't feel out of the ordinary at first; just another day of Cho trying to avoid her dorm-mates after another nightmare (this time, she was in the garden with Cedric, who turned into a werewolf and began tearing at her throat...). She knew Marietta's soundproofing charm still held, but not for Marietta, of course. Cho still felt shame at putting her friend through this...
Cho was halfway across the Common Room, headed for breakfast, when Pablo Molina's voice overpowered everyone's chatting, reading, and thinking:
"POTTER SAID WHAT???!!!"
Vincent Krixlow held up a copy of the Quibbler, with its dramatic headline: HARRY POTTER SPEAKS OUT AT LAST
"I can't believe you trust anything that says," Diana Fairweather said. "Didn't they say Sirius Black was really one of the Weird Sisters?"
"No," Vincent smirked, "it was one of the Hobgoblins. Anyway, he goes on about Diggory and--"
Pablo motioned for Vincent to hush, but Cho had already heard. She looked at Vincent for a minute, then turned and ran out of the Common Room.
She found an empty classroom just the other side of the hospital wing, and there she fell onto one of the benches, crying yet again. This time, however, she started crying over her memories of Cedric, then over Harry Potter:
Why didn't he tell me? I told him I had to know--I NEED to know! Why would he tell the Quibbler and not me?!
She pulled herself together and went to the Great Hall. On the way, Cho thought about the interview. The Quibbler comes out on Sundays, but the interview must have been very recent. It's not as if they have a lot to write about; probably make up half of it as they need it. Anyway, it must have come out yesterday, so Harry talked to them a week, maybe ten days ago--
Valentine's Day? What have I done?
She broke into a run, and nearly collided with Luna Lovegood. "Ah, Cho! You just missed it."
"Missed what?"
"Umbridge told Harry that he's on detention for a week and he can never go to Hogsmeade ever again. Isn't that wonderful!"
"I don't see how..."
"Because of the interview, you see. In the Quibbler. Dad always says that you don't know if they're paying attention unless they try to attack you."
Cho was utterly lost now. Umbridge was attacking Harry because of the interview?
"I listened to it all, of course, when Harry was telling it. In the Three Broomsticks on Valentine's."
Cho's stomach turned to lead. "Was Hermione Granger there?" she asked weakly.
"Of course, and she brought along that writer who was hanging about here last year, Rita Skeeter. She did all the writing. There's a few things I would have changed, but ..."
Cho ran out of the Great Hall, trying to get back to Ravenclaw. He was going to talk about that night after all, Cho thought dismally to herself, and he wanted me to be there when he did. And I-- Merlin and Morgana, what have I done?!
She got to the tapestry of Athena, gave the password ("heuristic"), touched the spine of her copy of the Analects of Confucius, and found herself back in the Common Room. Jan Nigginbridge was just coming down the stairs.
"Jan! Do you have a Quibbler?"
"Yeh're only about the tenth person teh ask," she said. "What's so special about it, then?"
"Tell you about it in class," Vincent said.
This reminded Cho: she had to go up and get her books for Astronomy. They'd have Herbology after that, and maybe Cho could find out more about the interview in the Greenhouse.
xxx
Which is almost what happened. Professor Sinistra cut off all talk of the interview at once: "This is an Astronomy course, not a History lesson. I don't want to hear any questions about anything except the Crab Nebula. As for my own opinion, I believe that the interview speaks for itself, and that is my final word on it!"
Information came easier in the Greenhouse. Madam Sprout had put them to work extracting the sap from Rumanian bitter vetch, but the whispered conversations at the benches had little to do with sap.
"Have yeh read it, then?" Jan asked Raina.
"Better hurry if you haven't," Vincent interrupted. "You've seen the signs."
Indeed they had. Between the first and second classes of the day, posters had suddenly appeared in most of the corridors, looking like advertisements for Muggle rock concerts. Except that these posters were copies of Educational Decree Number Twenty-seven:
"Any student found in possession of the magazine The Quibbler will be expelled."
"There's justice for you," muttered Pablo. "Any student. That means Umbitch and the faculty can read it whenever they like."
"I wonder if that includes back numbers," Diana Fairweather asked. "I mean, it didn't specify the Potter interview, did it? It just said The Quibbler."
"And we all know why," Vincent whispered, glancing over at Madam Sprout, as she left Greenhouse Number Three to get some soil from the supply shed. When she'd gone, he spoke up: "It just shows that the Ministry's been talking nothing but dragon dung since the Tournament."
Pablo nodded. "And Umbitch still has more to do with the Ministry than with Hogwarts."
Marietta put her clippers down rather noisily on the bench. "I don't understand how you can all give automatic credence to a paper that's only been full of bizarre fantasies and outright lies!"
"True enuf," Jan nodded. "Mostly they're keen on creatures that never were an' people that never did nothin'."
"But this is different," Vincent shook his head. "Most of the Quibbler writers are eccentric old wizards who can't do anything else or newcomers who couldn't get a berth on the Prophet. They follow the same old formula the paper always had. This piece was by a professional--"
"Skeeter?? Hardly!"
"All right, she's fallen on hard times, and yes, she brought it on herself with that crap she wrote during the Tournament. But it's really Potter's words more than her writing them down. I think they ring true."
"You want them to ring true," Diana said. "Look at the Death Eaters he 'names', the ones who were supposedly there when You-Know-Who came back. I mean, it's no big surprise, is it: Crabbe, Goyle, Malfoy? They've been at wands drawn with Potter since First Year."
"But not Walden McNair; he's in the Ministry, in Magical Creatures," Pablo interrupted. "And this man Avery, and Nott. Well, he's got a son here in Slytherin, but I don't think he's ever done anything to Potter."
"Exactly!" Vincent thumped the table. "If Potter was just out to settle old scores, by telling any old story he could think of, don't you think he'd name Snape, or Umbridge, or Filch..."
"I'd name Filch meself," Jan muttered, "fer some o' the things he's said about Coriander."
Marietta and Cho were now just about the only students still working on the Rumanian bitter vetch, Marietta making a clear effort to hold her tongue, while Cho was wondering why it was taking Professor Sprout so long to get some potting soil from the shed.
Just then, she came back from the shed with the potting soil; her eyes were red and swollen and there was a bulge like a rolled-up scroll in the pocket of her robes. She put the canvas bags of soil on a table, and turned to look at everyone looking at her. "Just ... carry on, dears, don't mind me." She retired to a corner of the greenhouse, sat on a stool and stared out through the windows at the bleak winter landscape.
That does it, Cho decided: I HAVE to read that interview!
Cho couldn't wait; before going to lunch she raced back to her dorm room, quickly wrote a scroll in Chinese, tied it to Quan Yin's leg and released her. She watched the owl as it flew beyond the borders of Hogwarts Academy. She still couldn't believe that the school would interfere with owl posts, but then she realizes that she was no longer sure what she believed.
When she went down for lunch and dinner, she again made a point of not looking at the Gryffindor table, sitting with her back to it. But not because she was snubbing the Gryffindors. She didn't want to look at Harry--not yet. She didn't know what she'd do, how she'd act.
The interview, she told herself. First I have to read the interview.
This didn't prove to be easy. Marietta stayed close by Cho, as if she knew Cho was trying to find a way around Edict number twenty-seven, and Cho's disobedience would reflect on her Prefect.
Cho didn't mind. She knew that she might have to wait a day to hear from her mother. Besides, as long as Marietta kept her eye on Cho, she was less likely to interfere with anyone else in Ravenclaw House. They deserved a chance to read the thing themselves.
xxx
Cho was up at dawn. Quan Yin hadn't returned yet. Well, it was a long way to Diagon Alley and back.
She dressed and went down to the Common Room. A few Ravenclaws hastily shut books or scrolls they were reading, saw that it was Cho, then began reading again. Is it that powerful, she wondered.
As she walked to the Great Hall, Michael Corner fell in behind Cho, trying to seem as if he wasn't talking to her. "Going to breakfast?"
"Where else?"
"You might want to think of someplace else. Umbitch is within a werewolf's whisker of losing her mind."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I mean, yesterday she issued the Edict banning the interview, but hasn't found one single copy of it yet. She's dying to make an example of somebody—anybody."
"Well, I don't have a copy, so I'm fine. Besides, I think I can take care of myself."
"Here's hoping." Corner dropped back just before entering the Great Hall; when Cho went to the Ravenclaw table, Corner went by way of the Gryffindors, to chat up Ginny Weasley.
Harry and Ron had raced through an early breakfast as they waited for the morning post to arrive. This time there were easily fifty owls that landed on the Gryffindor table, jostling for position and creating a complete mess of breakfast. Harry, Ron and Ginny gathered up the letters, then raced back to Gryffindor House to open and read them.
Hermione stayed behind to read the Daily Prophet and see how (or if) the Ministry had reacted to the Quibbler interview. Which meant that she got to witness Cho's small act of rebellion.
Cho had entered the Great Hall while Ron and Harry were gathering the day's letters. They didn't see her, and she was of two minds about that. It was still less than two weeks since Cho was publicly humiliated at Madam Puddifoot's—although she had to admit that she embarrassed herself about as much as Harry had embarrassed her. Still, she wasn't quite ready to forgive him; but then again, if even half the things people were saying about the interview were true; but then, what did one thing have to do with the other anyway… By then she was seated at the Ravenclaw table and Harry and Ron were gone.
She glanced at the Head Table and saw Professor Umbridge looking out over the students, her head slowly turning side to side like a snake's. Cho knew exactly what she was looking for. She was desperate to expel someone under the new Edict, just to prove that her words still carried the weight of the Ministry.
Quan Yin set down in front of Cho; she quickly untied the scroll from the owl's leg and started reading. As she read, her eyes grew wider and wider; she had to remember to breathe…
"Miss Chang."
Umbridge had fixed her gaze on the Ravenclaw Seeker. Even if Umbridge still had no clue about Dumbledore's Army, she must have heard about Harry and Cho's interest in each other—unsettled though it may be. The odds seemed good that Cho would have a copy of the Quibbler interview.
Cho looked to the Head Table: "Yes, ma'am?"
"I would like you to read aloud the letter you were reading so intently just now."
All eyes were on Cho. If she had been reading the interview, the students knew that Umbridge could expel her from Hogwarts on the spot.
Cho nodded her head slightly and said, barely above a whisper, "Yes, ma'am." She stood up, picked up Quan Yin's document, and started to read, loudly and clearly:
"JIN TIAN SHIWU LAO DE NANWU HA LI PO--"
"STOP THAT!" Umbridge's face was red, rapidly turning purple. She actually jumped down from the Head Table and walked down to stand across from Cho. She obviously counted on her closeness intimidating any student; all Cho felt for this silly little woman was contempt, but she tried hard not to show it.
"Once again, please, in English," Umbridge's simpering voice could still be heard throughout the Great Hall.
"Ma'am, this is a letter about family matters…"
"I don't recall asking what it was about," Umbridge said, attempting a sweet smile. "From the beginning, please."
Cho cleared her throat and began again:
"Dear Cho,
Your grandmother is feeling much better after her bout of bloody diarrhea. She—"
"STOP IT!!" Umbridge's face had gone to full purple. She snatched the scroll from Cho's hand and pointed her wand at the meticulously brushed Chinese characters. "Translingua!" The letter didn't change. "Anglo!" The letter didn't change.
Cho stood at the table across from Umbridge, waiting for the crowning moment to ask quietly, "Will there be anything else, ma'am?"
Umbridge looked mad enough to take on a Dementor. She threw Cho's letter down on the table and stormed toward the doors to the Great Hall. But, before she was halfway there, the miracle happened:
someone giggled.
Nobody knew who or at which table, and the room fell silent again as Umbridge stopped in her tracks and scanned the room, looking for the offender. She was too short, however, to see all the faces clearly from the main floor, so she gave it up and continued, no less angrily, marching toward the doors. As she passed, she heard soft chuckles and smothered snickers, but knowing that she wouldn't be able to catch the students only made her angrier.
As soon as she had passed out of the Great Hall, students simply gave up and burst out laughing. Not all of the students, but two or three dozen, and even a Slytherin or two. Umbridge was still in charge, but she had been made to look a complete fool. It was as if Cho had cast a Riddikulus spell on her.
Roger Davies, who had given up trying to hide the grin on his face, pointed at Cho's letter. "Is that?"
Cho nodded. "I asked my mother to send it along. I'm glad she knew enough to protect it."
Roger chuckled. "Good one, Cho."
He went back to Ravenclaw House, while Cho gathered up the letter and went to Muggle Studies. However, she ended up hearing not one word that Professor Idylwyld was saying. She couldn't tear herself away from the interview. Even in Chinese, Harry's words were so powerful that Cho couldn't help it. She read and reread the Quibbler interview, until her eyes swam with tears.
She had stopped being resentful that Harry would talk about that night with Rita Skeeter but not with her. In a sense, she felt that Harry really was speaking to her, through Rita, telling Cho what she needed to hear but in a way in which he was comfortable. Or as comfortable as he could be, recalling Voldemort's arising from near-death in the churchyard of Little Hangleton, surrounded by his Death Eaters—some of whom Harry had the bravery to call by name! And those names…! Wizards and witches in the Ministry were apparently still under Voldemort's control.
But there was time enough to worry about that later. Cho knew what she had to do. Harry had given out his schedule to Dumbledore's Army back in October, in case any of them needed to contact him, and Cho needed to contact him now. She caught up with Harry outside of McGonagall's Transfiguration classroom. Without a word of greeting she took Harry's hand in both of hers.
"I'm sorry for shouting at you," "I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions about Granger", "I'm sorry about running off and ruining our one day together,",,, Those sentences and a dozen others jumbled themselves in her mind, trying to be spoken at once, and all that came out, barely above a whisper as she stood close enough to Harry to breathe the words into his ear, was, "I'm really, really sorry." She took a breath. "That interview was…" Again she had to stop, with countless adjectives competing for her tongue. She breathed again, and the next words out of her mouth were inspired by Harry's Gryffindor patch: "so brave." Again a breath, as Cho tried to sort out what of a hundred sentences to say next. She started with, "It made me cry…" But Cho didn't mean the interview, although she wept afresh for Cedric as she finally read Harry's first-hand account of the details of his death. She meant to say, "It made me cry to think of what a fool I've been, and how awfully I've treated you…"
But it was as if Cho only now became aware of the rest of the Fifth Year Gryffindors watching her. As the Ravenclaw Seeker she could bear having the entire school watch her on a broom, but not at this time and place. So she quickly kissed Harry on the cheek; then, with damp eyes but a happier smile on her face than most of the students at Hogwarts had seen all year, she turned and dashed away to her Arithmancy class. Once she got there, though, she didn't focus on the lesson. Her thoughts were too full of Harry's interview—and of Harry, and the feel of his hand in hers.
xxx
to be continued in part 23, wherein Cho plays her toughest match yet against a desperate Slytherin team ...
A/N: If the Chinese translation isn't proper, in vocabulary or grammar, I take full blame.