CHO CHANG'S EIGHTH 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 the wizarding world that Harry isn't aware of.
Rated: PG
Spoilers: Everything
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9. Surprise Party
Cho stepped out of the fireplace into her own home for the first time in a week. Her father was standing by the parlour door, dressed in his best suit and with a coat over his arm. He didn't look too pleased.
She tried to make light of the situation: "Have I missed anything?"
Chang Xiemin simply sighed. Cho knew this was a bad sign. She could usually count on her father to calm the waters if her mother was too upset. This sigh meant that he thought Lotus was right.
"I'm sorry I just ran off, daddy, but surely you know why."
"Not another word." He held up one hand. "We indulged you in your little excursion…"
"Excursion!" Cho was indignant, but before she could continue arguing her side of things, her father interrupted.
"We wouldn't have called you home, but I have business to attend to today and I won't have your mother working in the shoppe by herself. Fortunately the weather's been bitter and we've had few customers, but it's a bit warmer today and we expect business will pick up. In five minutes' time I expect you to be changed and down working with your mother. I'll be back after lunch."
"Where are you going?"
Mister Chang stopped with the parlour door half-open. Without looking at Cho he said, "It's your turn to have to wait for information." Without giving Cho a chance to interrupt, he turned and left the parlour. Cho heard him step quickly down the stairs and out the door.
xxx
Maybe Cho timed it subconsciously, or maybe it was coincidence, but she entered the shoppe just as the clock struck nine and her mother was unlocking the door, where a couple of crones were already waiting in the cold. From that moment on, Lotus and Cho never exchanged a word, not even about business. Cho kept waiting for something to happen, some clue as to what would come next, but noon struck, and her father returned to the shoppe, and still there was no information. As her father took off his coat, he looked at her and said, "Go practice."
At first she found it hard to walk on the teacups correctly; she kept losing her footing. Then she stopped, and in her mind played a single note on the flute, holding it as long as she could. After that, it was easy; she hadn't lost her skills. After about an hour of practice, she went back to help in the shoppe. There were many more clients in the afternoon; her father was right about the warmer weather. She stayed busy until closing time.
As her father locked the door, Cho heard her mother say, "Come into the parlour."
She assumed her parents would interrogate her, as if she was a prisoner bound for Azkaban, but she still resolved not to tell them anything about how she had disposed of the bodies of the two wizards her father had killed. She knew her silence would protect them, and she was determined to keep silent.
However, once she entered the parlour Lotus started speaking. "We've decided to have a New Year's dinner early this year. Your father has invited some people from the Ministry who have been helpful this past year. They'll be here tomorrow at six. I'll have to prepare everything tomorrow afternoon, so you'll need to be in the shoppe."
She started to ask, "Can I help with dinner?" She hoped the offer might thaw Lotus's icy demeanour somewhat. No such luck.
"Did I ask for help?" Lotus replied. Cho had seen her like this many times: distant, holding herself in check to keep from flying into a rage. Cho wasn't sure what she had done to bring on this mood, when her mother broke in on her thoughts: "Get ready for dinner."
Cho no longer knew what to make of her parents' mood.
xxx
According to the lunar calendar, the lunar new year—the Year of the Tiger—wouldn't begin until January 28; just about the time of Cho's birthday. Over the years, though, she had gotten used to celebrating Chinese New Year at various times. Sometimes her parents had invited over English wizards on 1 January; they probably figured it would not be worth a lengthy explanation. Other dates were chosen when people were either out of town on the day, or would be passing through Diagon Alley earlier. Either way, the fact that it was not the right day didn't bother her. What did concern Cho was her parents' absolute silence. They hadn't told her who was coming, or why, or how to act. It had to mean that they trusted her maturity; what else could it mean? Yet they still seemed upset over her sudden flight to Hogwarts. Why wouldn't they tell her why?
xxx
By five o'clock the next day the shoppe was empty. Lotus had gone into their house hours before and was arranging dinner. The shoppe had been left to Cho and her father; now, he took the day's earnings in, telling Cho, "Clean up the shoppe, then get washed and dressed. Your mum's already laid out your robes." With that, he was gone.
So far, no answers. Fine; this was all leading up to something. If company was coming, that probably meant it wouldn't be a punishment. Lotus was capable of many things, but not publicly humiliating a member of the family. Besides, when she saw the robes her mother had laid out, Cho realized that it can't be that bad. The robes were in Ravenclaw's colours, blue with bronze trim, and just above her heart was her Captain's pin. For someone who spoke as disparagingly of Quidditch as Lotus Chang, this was a remarkable gesture.
She took her time washing up and dressing, letting her mind run through memories of Hogwarts and Quidditch, things she hadn't thought of all year as she tried to perfect her Chinese magic. She thought of friends made, friends lost, magic learned and perfected, Snitches missed and caught. Each memory led to another, until she lost all track of the time wandering through so many memories; surely they belonged to another witch, some of them. There were just so many; too many for one witch in one lifetime.
She found the memories leading her along a path in her head that she hadn't planned on. It was as if recent events, unexpected and unplanned, had their roots in things she had said and done before. The thoughts amazed her; she was completely unprepared for where her thoughts were taking her. And, just as she realized the most important and unexpected thing, she heard the door bell. She heard the door open, heard her parents' voices muffled by the distance and the closed door as they greeted the guests. By the time she finished dressing and running a brush through her hair and opened the bedroom door, they were gone. To the dining room? No; not so soon. They'd have a chat first, maybe a drink. She went to the open parlour door, and stopped.
Her parents were in the parlour, chatting with their guests as if they were old friends: Celia and Amos Diggory.
xxx
She hadn't seen them for two years, when they came over for the first Christmas after Cedric's death. Amos was deep in drink and despair at the loss of his only child; which, at the time, Cho couldn't see past her own despair. What Cedric's father might have been going through didn't matter to her then. She'd found a way to blame him for Cedric's death—in her own mind, anyway.
"And here she is," Cho's father said as she stopped in the doorway, "and well worth the wait."
"Happy New Year, dear," Celia said, "you look lovely. Would you like something?" She gestured toward a cart with several bottles on it.
"I, erm, just tea."
"Very wise," Amos said. "Last time I was rather the worse for firewhisky."
"Wait a minute!" Cho interrupted. "I, I didn't know you were coming tonight, and, well, there's something I need to say.
"I was thinking about Hogwarts just now, and remembering two friends. I've had a bit of a falling-out with one of them. I hope that, someday, we can work things out and talk with each other again. And the other friend is Cedric. I can't work things out with him, ever again. And last time you were here, I was feeling so bad about Cedric that I didn't even notice that you felt the same way. Mister and Missus Diggory, I need to tell you how sorry I am for the way I acted last time."
xxx
Cho never in life expected to hear herself say those words after the way Cedric's parents had treated him and spoken of her. Yet here she was reaching out to them, and here was Celia Diggory, rising to her feet a bit unsteadily, her eyes filling with tears all over again, as Cho's eyes filled with tears all over again, and before they realized it Cho was holding the other woman and being held. Neither said a word; they really didn't need to say anything. Cho's parents and Amos Diggory didn't say anything; they didn't need to, either, but for a different reason.
When Cho and Celia finally let go of each other, Lotus said, "Let's continue this in the dining room, shall we?"
So they moved to the dining-room and commenced a ten-course Chinese New Year's banquet: a variety of small dishes each completely different from the others, and still quite filling. As the food continued to appear, so did the conversation. If Cho had been told this would happen even a week before, she would have scoffed at the possibility. Yet here they all were, chatting like two families who'd just discovered that their ancestors emigrated from the same village.
Between dumplings and duck, Amos Diggory had been reliving some of Cedric's (admittedly few) Quidditch triumphs, including the day he beat Harry Potter. Then he fell silent. Finally, he looked a bit sheepishly at Cho.
"Those were Cedric's years of triumph, and yet they pointed him toward disaster. Now I wish he'd never reached those heights. If he'd just kept his head down, just been a Hufflepuff, not gotten as far as, as I pushed him to go." He seemed to be talking to Cho, but deliberately wasn't meeting her eyes with his. "I don't know what would have happened to him if things were different. When I heard about Dumbledore's Army, well, you had to know it was all the talk at the Ministry for months." Cho hadn't known, of course, but before she could utter a word Diggory went on. "At first I followed the Ministry's lead. The kids were misguided, Dumbledore was dangerous, and Umbridge was telling us the truth. By the time You Know Who had his battle with Dumbledore at the Ministry itself, and the death and destruction started, well, I felt such a damned fool."
Celia interrupted her husband. "What we mean to tell you, Cho, is that, well, Amos understood what he had to do from your parents."
What?
"Surely you know that your father has been reporting to Amos at Control of Magical Creatures," Celia went on. "They meet several times a month on import licenses and things, and it's always been about business. But last year, when you were away at Hogwarts, Amos came within a troll's toenail of quitting the Ministry altogether. Good thing Mister Chang talked him out of it."
"It was an easy argument to make," James Chang said. "Most of what Amos did was perfectly legitimate, something that witches and wizards needed. Some of us just took a page from the kids' book and also looked at ways we could undo what the Ministry was trying to do, especially this year with Thicknesse in charge."
Lotus, spoke up: "Cho dear, it was sweet of you to worry about us after the Fogglys came here looking for your friend Penelope. But it was completely unnecessary. When the Fogglys turned up missing, a trusted Ministry employee assured Gawain Robards at the Aurors Office that they'd never even arrived in Diagon Alley that night."
Cho felt slightly sick. "You mean…"
Her father nodded. "Amos Diggory created a cover story to establish that they were never here, and one of his colleagues supplied a rumour that they'd gone to the Continent to root out a nest of Muggle-borns. It's funny, really; they believed so strongly in a conspiracy of Muggle-borns, yet it never occurred to them that Purebloods could conspire against the Ministry."
"We were just as blinded, I suppose," Celia Diggory added. "I think every parent knows that their teenaged children think they know better. Sometimes, they don't give their parents credit for knowing anything at all." She hesitated a moment, and swallowed. "Then again," she continued softly, "parents can't always tell when their children really do know better. We didn't want to believe it, but now I think you and Cedric were right."
No no no, Cho said to herself, don't say that, not now, not after the way it ended. Not with all I've learned since then… Aloud, Cho, looking down at the plate in front of her, said, barely above a whisper, "Thank you."
And she said little else for the rest of the evening.
xxx
To be continued in part 10, wherein Cho returns to Hogwarts at the summons of the Galleon…