Ch. 5: Madeline Gets her Oats
Cho trudged her way through the freezing mud with her broomstick over her shoulder, a frown upon her face. It was 15 degrees Fahrenheit and the wind was howling madly. She was all alone, left to flounder in her own mounting anxiety and guilt. The trek to the pitch was inconveniently long, and within five minutes, her fingers were frozen stiff. She clumsily took out her wand and cast a Warming Charm on herself (quite handy). The spell worked quickly, and soon she was toasty and comfortable hiking up the rocky slopes toward her dreaded destination. Soon, she saw the tips of the scoring hoops and several tiny flying specks—she was late. As she stepped onto the turf, Roger Davies landed next to her. Damn, she thought, just another reminder of my insurmountable prudeness.
"Chang, you're late," he stated plainly.
"And I thought you would be humane enough to cancel practice,"
"Don't be cheeky. Get up there—we're warming up with some shooting, but you can start with some Seeker drills."
Cho seized a spare Snitch and kicked off the frosty ground. After an hour of grueling work and scrimmaging, Davies called the practice, and the team headed back to the castle in the freezing rain.
It was six-thirty by the time she reached the Common Room, and seven by the time she remembered the term paper for Potions that was due the following day. Still drenched and shivering, she changed and went to look for either Amita or Madeline—she hoped at least one of them would be available for moral support. She searched in the dorm room she shared with both of them, but found only Amita's giant cat, Yann sleeping happily on a pile of laundry. Bending down to pet him, she promptly heard a muffled noise from within the bathroom. Because she was half delirious from the rain and quite aware of the dangers of bathroom psycho's, Cho picked up her wand and edged carefully to the door. Then, kicking it open in one swift movement, she saw what was waiting for her inside, and quickly slammed the door shut again.
"Oh my goodness," she breathed. Too tired to fully grasp the situation, but too crazy to get a grip, she lost her footing and hit her head. When she was expecting a murderer in her bathroom, she was only confronted with something even more unwelcome. Madeline hurried out of the bathroom pulling up her pants with a quite ruffled Roger Davies close behind her.
"Y-you!" Cho said, breathing with difficulty and pointing limply, "Only…drunk were you?"
"Erm…" Madeline was a dark shade of raspberry now.
"I'll leave you alone." Cho left hastily in a state of disgust and surprise, more because she hit her head than anything else. However, it left her even more dispirited than before. She found Amita walking up the stairs, and she grabbed her and shoved her toward the Common Room door.
"What?" Amita said thickly, for it was obvious she had just woken from a nap.
"Oh, Amita, I swear I just saw my life flash before my eyes."
In the 6th corridor, leading to the library, Cho and Amita were walking slowly, whispering excitedly, like conspirators.
"What! No way!"
"Yes way."
Amita seemed to be as equally shocked, if not more.
"Madeline? Our Madeline? Frankly, I refuse to believe you." She let out a sad little laugh. Cho sighed,
"I just…I suppose that seeing Madeline in that place has made me realize…that I'm, you know…"
"Prude? Ha! Cho, you've nothing to worry about. You're a well-rounded woman!" Amita was acting a bit strangely. She was smiling far too hard.
"I know I'm not promiscuous." She eyed her suspiciously. "I think I'm regressing."
"That is the daftest thing I've ever heard uttered from your pretty lips."
Amita stopped talking. Cho sensed a waft of something fishy, but was to preoccupied with her own problems to address someone else's. They walked in silence until they reached the heavy arch of the library.
"So this term-paper, eh? A bitch, I say," Cho said, trying to lighten the mood.
"Well, yes. Let's get cracking."
They settled on a table that fit snugly between two bookshelves and arranged their parchment and quills. Amita had already half of hers written, and in an easy hour, she had finished and dozed off heavily. Cho had only three of the required fifteen feet of parchment written, and her head was drifting closer and closer to the desk. The soft, provoking snore Amita was emitting was one more contributing factor to her own drooping head. As her handwriting began to shift in a severe downward slope, she gave up and was soon soundly asleep.
She dreamt of toffee and Quidditch brooms, which was weird, but she was impossibly peaceful. About to take a bite out of a particularly long and juicy piece of toffee, she was nudged gently awake. Her dream bubble burst and she rubbed her eyes hazily. Amita was still splayed out on her twenty feet of parchment.
"Quite a bit of a snore you've got there, Chang,"
The drawling voice cut slickly through her sleep haze. Sleepily alarmed, she whipped around to find herself nose to nose with someone certainly unwelcome.
Despite the time of day, Draco Malfoy still seemed to positively leak guile and charm. With an unhealthy mixture of sleep and irritability, her comeback was merely an annoyed yawn.
"And sleeping in the library? Tsk Tsk. Have you no manners?" he said in response.
Cho didn't want to deal with this at the moment.
"And what are you doing here at two o'clock in the morning, Malfoy? Fucking off, I suspect?"
He cocked his head.
"Your Potions paper. And look, only half done. I've been assigned the same paper, but of course, I expect a perfect score," he said smoothly with only a tint of arrogance.
Cho knew she could easily hex him, or kick him in the balls, but he was speaking in such a mild-mannered and alluring tone that she resisted the temptation. She wearily opened her mouth to respond, but she heard a ruffling of parchment at her side. Amita had woken to their voices and was looking straight at Malfoy.
Cho stuffed her things into her bag and stood up quickly, nearly knocking Draco off his feet.
"Come on, Amita," she mumbled. She scratched her head and turned to Malfoy.
"Nice chatting," she said cynically.
"And surely the same to you. See you around."
She stalked off with Amita at her heels. She had to admit, Malfoy was extraordinarily superior at twisting her knickers.
"Why does he insist on bothering me? I honestly haven't done anything!" Cho hissed to Amita as they climbed up a set of marble stairs.
"That wasn't the first time?" Amita asked, looking at her.
"I bumped into him Saturday night before the Quidditch match. I swear he made me fall off my broom." And she didn't fully doubt that.
"Well, Harry is his arch nemesis…perhaps something to do with…" she yawned, "your history?"
This hadn't occurred to Cho, however it was efficient in peeving her further. She thought of an appropriate label. Harry Potter: Life Ruiner.