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
31. Unexpected
Cho was in the library at Hogwarts. The June sun shone brightly in through every window, muted by panels of stained glass. The effect was like walking through a shaded grove, and, as fond of reading as she was, Cho felt sleepy. She felt her eyes getting heavy...
The crash of a slamming door echoed through the library. Cho was in the back, in the maze of stacks. She didn't know how she knew, but she sensed danger. She started running first up one aisle, then down another. She had no idea what she was running from, but she knew she had to run. She didn't see a single other student as she ran, but this was no surprise in high summer.
She had gone through the Restricted section, turned a corner--and there he was. The vagrant Muggle who had tried to assault her in the British Museum all those years ago. Except now, instead of layers of rags to protect him from the winter chill, he was stripped to the waist. And she could clearly see a skull branded onto his left arm--with a large snake crawling out of the skull's mouth.
The Dark Mark.
"There are thousands of us all over England; millions of us all over the world," the vagrant said, in a sickening echo of Cho's words to him in the British Museum after she'd Petrified him. "You've been walking past us on the street all your life and never knew it. And once you're back on the street, you'll never know whom you'll be standing next to."
Cho turned to run, but the man leapt like a cat over her head, landing in front of her, blocking her way. He grabbed her shoulders, throwing her to the stone floor, then fell on top of her, pulling at Cho's robes. Cho couldn't get up, couldn't reach her wand, and the smell of the man made her want to vomit. Then came the pain between her legs, pain like a knife--
"STOP IT!"
Marietta pulled open Cho's bed curtains, holding her glowing wand. Cho was sitting up in bed, staring straight ahead, breathing as if she'd just run a mile. Marietta lightly touched Cho's shoulder. Cho turned, stared at Marietta for a second, then buried her face in her hands. After a minute, she sheepishly looked back at the Prefect: "Seems like old times."
"Has this been going on all the time I've been in the hospital wing?"
"About once a week, I suppose, although sometimes I wake up and I don't remember what dream was terrifying me."
"And this time?"
Again Cho stared straight ahead. "I remember all too well. Please don't make me tell you."
"Cho, listen, this is not the kind of thing you want to take for granted. If you can't sort this out, with or without my help, I have no choice but to take it to Pomfrey. She'll be able to recommend something once you get back to Diagon Alley."
"I know," Cho murmured.
"See you in the morning, then." Marietta closed the bed curtains.
xxx
That nightmare ended Cho's 48 hours staying in the dormitory. Between the Sunday of the surprising Daily Prophet headline and the following Tuesday, Dumbledore had returned as Headmaster, announcing that Dolores Jane Umbridge was relieved of command. "Not as relieved as the rest of us," quipped Diana Fairweather.
Cho was eating less than usual, which wasn't much on the best of days. With Marietta by her side, she would come very early or very late to meals, eat a few bites, and leave after five minutes. She was doing it to punish herself. Like countless women and girls before her, she believed that she had somehow brought on Michael Corner's rude behavior. Withholding food, and avoiding any place Michael might be, were the only remedies she could think of at first.
Marietta had her own idea as to why Cho was more pale, drawn, and nervous than usual. And one week before the return to London--June 25--her suspicions seemed to be confirmed. Dawn came that day out of a clear sky. As soon as the sun began to clear the horizon, Cho's bedcurtains opened. She looked around the dormitory; then her eyes widened with a kind of recognition. She went to her writing desk, jotted down some figures, then dressed and went down to an early breakfast, leaving Marietta to try to catch up.
"What's all that, then?" Jan asked, looking at Cho's desk. The parchment had these numbers:
60 x 24 x 365 525,600
It didn't take any of them long to realize what Cho had been counting.
Cedric Diggory had been dead for 525,600 minutes.
xxx
This being understood, Cho's dorm-mates avoided her more than usual during the morning. Even though Cho's spontaneous crying jags were now few and far between, and her nightmares tapered off to one a week, her reputation as a "human hosepipe" was still alive and well.
Cho had a quick, light breakfast, then went to a stretch of wall behind the greenhouses. Once, this wall was the gateway to a secret garden tended by Cedric Diggory. He had told Cho aboutit on the night of the Yule Ball; from that day until Cedric's death, they would often meet in the garden, away from the prying eyes and clicking tongues and limited notions of Hogwarts' students. They found joy and peace in the garden, which they planted as soon as the weather permitted.
Cho hadn't been back to the wall since Valentine's Day, when she stumbled through the driving rain only to find that the wall no longer opened. It didn't open today, either. She sat on the grass next to the wall, leaning her head against it, thinking again of the happiness she had known with Cedric--gone now and never to return. Her attempts at romance after Cedric had turned out more like curses. Harry may have been a brilliant wizard, and she had really tried to share his thoughts and sympathies, but his friends kept getting in the way. And Michael Corner--forget about him altogether!
By eleven o'clock the sun was high enough to have stolen away the shade the wall provided. Cho decided that she might as well go back up to her dorm and start backing. There was only one week left to the term, and there was nothing else to do. As she walked through the halls of Hogwarts, she saw only a few students, but many of them were clearly couples. walking, or talking in lowered voices. Had she and Cedric looked like that? She kept her eye on the stone floor until she reached the tapestry that hid the entrance to Ravenclaw, said the password ("hellebore"), touched the spine of her copy of the Analects of Confucius, walked through a Common Room where two or three students were dozing in the comfy chairs, and went up to her dormitory.
She pulled the empty trunk from under her bed and a suitcase out of her wardrobe. When she opened the suitcase, she caught a glimpse of a yellow piece of paper--and her heart turned to ice.
The letter.
Cedric's parents had come by on Christmas Eve, and Mrs. Diggory gaver Cho a letter Cedric had written during the last hours of his life. "He meant it for you," she had told Cho. That could only mean one thing. Cho and Cedric had argued that last afternoon about whether or not Cedric loved her enough to stand up to his parents and defend her. Cho had shoved the letter into the pocket of her dress robes. It was supposed to be at home in Diagon Alley, not here...
Cho couldn't open the letter at first, her hands trembled so. After a few deep breaths, and a sense that she was jumping off of a cliff, the opened the Hufflepuff-yellow envelope, took out the letter and read:
"Dear mum and dad,
I expect writing this letter will make me late for the banquet. It's awfully bad form, I know, and for that I apologise. But in some ways this is the hardest letter I've ever had to write. I have seldom gone against your wishes, so I need to explain myself very clearly now.
Silence is golden; dad, I can't remember how many times I've heard you say that. Lie low, keep your own counsel, and wait for things to sort themselves out. It's the best way to get ahead without risking too much. And it made perfect sense to me until last autumn. That was when Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker I introduced you to today, stopped me in the corridor. I could tell she was angry about something. She had seen those "Support Cedric Diggory" badges, which went on to say something rude about Harry Potter--you remember those badges, dad, you found them so funny. Well, Cho wasn't amused at all, and attacked me for making them; and then, when I told her that I wasn't responsible, she said I was just as guilty as the Slytherins who made them because I didn't do anything to try to stop them.
Her speech gave me a sleepless night, I can tell you, and I turned it over and over in my mind before I realized that, dad, you were wrong and Cho was right. If something wrong is happening, standing by and watching in silence doesn't make you safe or neutral. Anyone with any kind of conscience would step up and say, This is wrong. And it took a Fifth Year witch to tell me.
I realized something else that night: that I would be asking Cho to the Yule Ball. Since that night, it's a rare day that we haven't seen each other, and I've come to realize one other very important thing: that, even if it means being disinherited and losing the Diggory name, I can not and will not leave Hogwarts and go out into the wizarding world without Cho by my side..."
Cho dropped the letter as a wave of panic washed over and through her. The letter confirmed that Cedric had, in fact, not carried their quarrel over Cedric's parents to his grave. This news should have made Cho feel better, but, instead, it just made the intervening year seem longer, darker, more hopeless. It made Cedric Diggory seem deader than he already was.
Get out of the castle. That was all Cho could think to do at that moment: get away from the walls that close in on her every day and night, as if she also were in a tomb. She dashed down to the entrance to the castle, just as students were getting out of lunch. The hall was full of students milling about, some leaving the castle to get out into the June weather, others coming in, still others exiting the Great Hall.
Cho pushed her way through the crowd, even more distraught than she had been for days. She saw a sliver of green space ahead between the students. That had to be the lawn. She dove for it as if being chased by Hagrid's worst monsters--
and ended up, not outside on the lawn, but in the middle of a forest.
At first she thought she was going mad. How had she gotten here, apparently in the middle of the Dark Forest? And why could she still hear the chatter of students? She turned to look back, and realized the truth at once: she had entered classroom eleven, which was next to the main doors, and which had been enchanted to resemble the forest for the new Divination teacher.
Solving that mystery didn't change anything, though, and Cho felt that all that she'd done today was cement a reputation into place: the Mad Girl of Hogwarts. She hadn't wanted any of this to happen, and she had no idea what to do next.
A twig snapped behind her. She turned, and saw him. His long, straight platinum-blonde hair hung down past his shoulders, and gave him a superficial resemblance to Draco Malfoy. Except that Malfoy had a more pasty complexion, indicating a preference for the indoors that was unusual for a Seeker. But this face was tanned and weather-beaten, square-cut and ruggedly handsome, rather like the Durmstrang Champion's was last year. But the Durmstrang Champion's torso did not end halfway down, turning into the four legs of a palomino stallion.
This, then, was "Professor" Firenze, the centaur who had taken over for Trelawney after Umbridge had sacked her. Cho knew that it was rude to say nothing to the centaur, who was, after all, on the faculty. But she couldn't rise from where she had collapsed, and merely inclined her head.
Firenze looked at her with curiosity. "I do not know you," he said in a voice that sounded somehow distant, and like the wind.
Cho realized that she was expected to say something. "I do not study Divination, sir."
"Why not?"
Cho had answered the question several times in the past year, and the answer came almost mechanically, but still with bitterness in her voice. "Because it's rubbish."
Firenze tilted his head to one side, examining her as if she were the curious animal. "If you refer to crystal-gazing and such, I might agree with you." This was the last thing Cho expected to hear from a Divination professor. Before she could say anything, the centaur continued, "But you do not deny that the future may be forecast by reading signs in the heavens."
"No, I've studied Astronomy ..."
"Then, what," Firenze interrupted, "has caused your mistrust of Divination?"
"It didn't work," Cho said, determined to press on even though she could sense the tears starting, "the one time it needed to work. It didn't see that Cedric would die last year."
Again the centaur looked at Cho as if she were a not-quite-human curiosity. "Ah, the boy who was killed in the Tournament. Was he your mate?"
Cho looked as if she'd been slapped. "No! I mean, well, we hadn't quite decided ..." She suddenly wanted to reread Cedric's letter, which was on the floor of her dormitory. "Perhaps, if he had lived. Why does that matter?"
"It matters not at all to me. It is the only thing that matters to you. I am curious."
"Are you telling me that centaurs don't understand love at all?"
"There are many things that we do not understand as you humans do. While we can be killed or die, centaurs are virtually immortal. We use our centuries of life to study the cosmos, and the signs that are written there. We mate, and our mares foal, but only once in a century, if that. Our life-spans prevent us from understanding love as you do."
Cho hung her head; now that her panic attack was over, she was feeling exhausted. "Then you can't understand how I feel."
After a minute of silence, Firenze spoke: "Yes, it is about understanding, isn't it? I can help you understand, but you must follow my instructions."
Cho had more than a few doubts, but nobody else had offered to help her. "What should I do?" she asked as she started to rise.
"Do not stand. You must lie on the floor, face up." Cho did so. "Tell me what you see as you look up."
"The leaves on this tree I'm under. It's an elm tree."
"Look at the leaves, very carefully. They may seem identical, but each has minute differences that set them apart one from the other. One may suffer disease, another may be chewed by insects, but all of them are similar in most respects. They are born in the spring, they live through the summer, they wither and die in the autumn. And no oracle can tell with accuracy which leaf will first fall from the tree."
Cho tried to focus on the leaves, but wasn't sure if she was supposed to notice them individually or as a bunch.
"So it was with the boy who was killed. We knew that the war against Voldemort had not been won, but was merely paused. We knew that others would die before one side or another was victorious. But we could not specify who would fall, or when, or how.
"Look at the leaves, and try to see them as the tree sees them. Look with the eyes of a tree which lives, not a few months, but many decades and even centuries, and sees the world in a way that a leaf can never understand."
Cho tried to focus her mind on the leaves, but it grew harder and harder to keep them open. She still wasn't sure what Firenze was driving at--
xx
Ni hao, Cho Li.
Cho opened her eyes. She was in the churchyard in Ottery St. Catchpole, where Cedric was buried. Except that Cedric was sitting on his own tombstone, looking down at Cho, who was lying on his grave.
--Cedric!
It's been a long time.
--Well, I've been at Hogwarts ...
And wept for me nonstop, from what I hear.
--Well, what did you expect!
Cho Li, I never wanted to be remembered with tears. Didn't you smile even once thinking about our time together?
--I, I tried, Ced, honestly. But it hurt so much.
I didn't hurt you, did I?
--Not like that, but ...
Then you've spent this year hurting yourself ...
--Damn you, Cedric Diggory, why are you doing this to me!
The truth is, I've done nothing to you. Not a lot I can do, being stuck here. But what have you done to yourself?
--I didn't want this to happen!
What?
--Any of this! I didn't want to, to lose the Cup, or get in a fight with Harry, or be groped by Michael Corner, or have everyone make fun of Marietta who's the truest friend I still have! I wanted, well, I don't even know anymore!
Cho buried her face in her hands, sobbing.
Cho Li, you hate me, don't you?
--N-never.
Then you hate yourself. Not too many choices, after all.
--I ...
Listen, Cho Li. If I'd known that you'd spend all this time grieving for me, I'd have cut my own foot off and never taken you to the Yule Ball. Can't you remember me with happiness at all?
--There's just ... too much sadness mixed up with it.
Well, then, it's time for the happiness to take a turn. It's been rather cheated this year, don't you think?
--I, I don't even know if I can ...
I'm sure you can. You've done so much already.
--Well, I suppose. I ... Cedric, I can make a Patronus now!
Really? That's smashing!
--I wish you could see it. It's this big, beautiful swan ...
Good for you, then. I never could, but I wonder what mine would have been. Labrador retriever, I think, like the one I conjured up in the First Task. We used to have one around the place when I was a tyke. Big clumsy old thing, and he and I loved each other.
--I wish we could have talked like this more often this year.
We could have, you know, even up in Hogwarts.
--But, but how ...
Let's make that your homework for next time, then.
--Stop! I'm here now! Tell me the secret!
If you're here now, you already know the secret. Just remember. That's the secret. No mourning or wailing. Just remember.
The wind picked up, scattering dust and leaves into Cho's eyes, making it hard to see. She shielded her eyes, and when she dropped her hand ...
she was back in the enchanted classroom. The centaur was gone.
She had no idea how long she had been in there. She must have dozed off, because she dreamed about ... something. She couldn't catch it now.
Cho stood up, dusted off her robes, and left the classroom. As she stepped into the entryway, Marietta was coming in the main doors.
"There you are! We couldn't see where you'd run off to!" Marietta lowered her voice. "To tell the truth, I was terrified you'd done yourself a mischief. How are you feeling?"
Cho thought about it for a second, then answered truthfully. "I feel fine; quite fine."
In fact, even if she couldn't say it, she felt something she hadn't felt in over a year: peace.
And, though nobody noticed it at the time, she never again had another nightmare.
xxx
to be concluded in part 32, wherein Cho takes the Express back home and makes several important discoveries...
A/N: Some readers may recognize an allusion to a certain song from a certain Broadway musical.