The Silver Swan

Chapter 3

It wasn't more than a few weeks after the Yule Ball before Hermione was able to report that she and Ron were back to what, for them, passed as normal. By that time, Ginny's toes had healed nicely from the damage inflicted on them by Neville Longbottom, and my incorrigible sister was masterminding a new romantic conspiracy, this time on behalf of her friend Lavender.

For others, the events set in motion as a result of that most unfortunate of social events were not so easily put behind them.

Cho was besotted; that was the only word for it. In a way, I shouldn't have been surprised. She was still, after all, the Fair Flower of Ravenclaw and Cedric, to his credit, worked hard for her love. And yet something had changed. Looking back, I have to smile mirthlessly at the irony of it. Cho Chang at sixteen had finally become more like me. She had discovered exclusivity. Cedric, to whom she had never given a thought before he burst into her life, became her whole world. All else was forgotten: classes ... Marietta and the sycophants ... me.

It hurt.

At the time, I thought myself jealous - and guilt over this added to my unhappiness. Subsequent events, however, proved otherwise. What I really was, I now realize, was lonely. I had long since resigned myself to not being the sole object of Cho's affection, but I missed her company, her conversation.

I longed even for news of her She had taken to leaving early and coming home late, and for hours at a time we had no idea of where she was - although little doubt as to what she was doing. I wouldn't have minded: I just wanted to know. A new low was reached after the second task, when I was reduced to chatting up Ron Weasley in a futile attempt to learn just what had transpired under the lake. He had no idea, of course, which didn't stop him going on about it at tedious length - or me from listening in vain hope.

I could have tried asking Cedric, I suppose, but that humiliation, at least, I spared myself. Instead, I confessed all to Hermione. Well, not quite all, but I did tell her how much I was missing Cho. She understood at once.

"I'll never in a million years date Harry, but if he suddenly dropped out of my life, I really don't know what I would do."

As for the business under the lake, it seemed that she had heard detailed, and interestingly different, versions of the story from Harry and Victor. Hermione-like, she had quickly worked out the most plausible scenario - one, I had to admit grudgingly, that had Harry coming off rather well. Hermione had troubles of her own that winter, but she was still able to smile at my reaction.

"You never know, Padma, maybe the two of you would be great friends. You have so much in common, after all. You're both pining for Cho and you both hate Cedric."

"But I don't hate Cedric. She can kiss him all she likes. I just want her to talk to me."

And then, suddenly, she did. Without explanation or embarrassment. Without apology. As if nothing had happened and no time gone by, Cho was back to a semblance of her old self, telling me everything that went through her head. It was mostly about him, of course, but I was happy enough to listen even to that. Indeed, now that Cho was talking to me again, I was able to rejoice in her happiness.

Cedric, in fairness, seemed to be everything that Roger and Harry had not been, self-assured, uncomplicated, and just generally so competent. To me, at least, it seemed that life was back in order. The princess had found her prince and I basked in the reflected glow of their mutual bliss.

Others had their doubts.

*

* *

Arithmancy was one class in which we were officially encouraged to work together, and gradually a small group of us had got into the habit of meeting in the library once or twice a week for this purpose, Hermione and I and almost always Susan Bones, sometimes one or two others - never Cho or Millicent. It was a rare forum for inter-House cooperation and over time Susan, at least, was incorporated into the quiet alliance that Hermione and I had formed the previous year. In general we stuck strictly to business, which all of us, I think, found soothing, but one evening when Susan and I were the first to arrive she put a question to me without preamble.

"Do you know if Cho and Cedric are having a problem of some sort?"

"I don't think so. She seems happier than ever. Why do you ask?"

"He's back to acting strangely. She spends a lot of time in Hufflepuff, you know, and whenever they're together it's like he's in a dream. It's obvious that he absolutely worships her. But now, after she leaves, he always looks guilty, afraid almost."

"I don't know, Susan, it sounds like he's the one with a problem. Whatever it is, I don't think she's noticed. She wouldn't necessarily, though ..."

I was left curious, but not particularly worried. If there really was a problem, Cho would tell me. If it was serious ... well, the great thing about boys was that you could always find more. So I thought. Cho Chang, unfortunately, was in danger of forgetting that bit of ancestral wisdom.

Marietta Edgecombe, of all people, guessed the truth.

"Just wait and see. He'll let her down, and we'll be left to pick up the pieces."

"Marietta, you're just jealous."

"Don't! You know perfectly well who I'm jealous of, and it isn't the Pride of bloody Hufflepuff. Give me some credit, will you? "

"Sorry ..."

"It's all right, just trust me that I care about her as much as you do, and I really don't like this."

"But why, Marietta? They're so happy."

"She is. But she just doesn't know. And as for him ... Padma, Cho Chang is probably the most exciting thing that's ever happened to that idiot in his entire life, but do you really think he's told his family about her?"

"What do you mean?"

"I know the Diggorys, Padma, my family have known them forever, and let me tell you there isn't a chance in Hell that Cedric's father is going to welcome someone named Chang into his happy English home."

How naïve can you be? The thought simply hadn't occurred to me. I was sickened by the obscenity of it and stupidly hated Marietta for being the one to force me to see it.

"So why aren't you doing something? Why don't you tell her? She's your younger, damn it!"

"Don't take that tone with me, Padma! ... Besides, she wouldn't listen and you know it ... and maybe I'm wrong ... maybe they'll give her a chance ... if they do, she's sure to win them over ... she's ... she's Cho!"

But she wasn't wrong. She was righter than she had ever been in her life. On that terrible evening when Harry Potter brought back Cedric's body, Cho Chang stood alone and wept for all the world to see. Only two of us there present, however, knew that the tears were not so much for the death as for the betrayal that had preceded it.

She had come to me just before the start of the task, pale with shock and fury.

"He won't introduce me to his family! Says they might not like me ... that we have to give them time to get used to the idea. The idea of what, Padma? What exactly is wrong with me?!"

More than anything, I wanted to protect her, to keep her ever from knowing. Desperately, I tried to put a reasonable face on it, to convince us both that this was only temporary, that Cedric really did care for her, that he would work to bring his family round.

He didn't, of course. He died instead, and that made it all permanent.

That summer, Cho Chang did not write to me at all

*

* *

Marietta and I waited together on the platform at King's Cross Station on the first of September, neither one speaking but each of us, for once, silently grateful for the other's presence. When Cho finally appeared, coming through the barrier, I was startled. Vague detached serenity was the last thing I had expected. It was as if nothing had happened, as if we were all casual acquaintances meeting quite by accident. Even in my bewilderment, I saw Marietta's jaw clench and her eyes go hard. Once again, I realized, she knew something I didn't.

What Marietta knew was revealed as we prepared for bed. Cho retrieved a crystal vial from her trunk and set it on the nightstand. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Marietta get up; clearly she had been expecting this. Before Cho could react, Marietta had confiscated what was clearly a potion container. Cho looked up, bemused.

"Give that back, please. I need it."

Marietta ignored the request and put a question of her own, her voice low but harsh with angry insistence.

"Cho, where did you get this? How often do you take it?"

Cho's answer was docile, childlike.

"My mother gave it to me. Please, I have to have it. It helps me sleep."

Marietta bit off a string of curses for which I, as a newly minted prefect, should have given her a week's detention. Startled, Cho looked to me for support, but now I had finally grasped what was going on. I could only shake my head in dismay.

Marietta had regained her composure. She forced her voice into a gentler tone, but her judgement was without appeal.

"Cho, you can't do this. Not every night. It's not safe. You have to stop. Right now."

Cho's docility was turning to panic.

"No! I need it! I have nightmares ... Padma help me ... tell her ..."

Cho gazed at me with desperate eyes, but I had no doubts. Marietta was right. I wasn't betraying Cho, not this time. This time I was saving her. We were saving her.

*

* *

Cho Chang, I well knew, was far more resilient than she seemed. Even those first days, she was generally able to keep up appearances in public. She smiled and spoke of other things; she went to class and to Quidditch practice. She could still rise to the defence of her beloved Tornados (Ron Weasley never knew how close he came to being jinxed into the Outer Hebrides over that - I had to restrain Marietta physically when she learned of the incident.) She even renewed her pursuit of Harry Potter - although that we could all have done without.

Once back home, though, Cho would drop into listless exhaustion. We had to make her eat and remind her to bathe. And then, there were the nights: those nearly did us in. Within a week, she had recovered sufficiently to remember, even at two in the morning, that we really were trying to help her. The terrible pleading look left her eyes. But as her mind cleared, the nightmares returned. Cedric was still with her. She loved him, she hated him, she missed him; she couldn't let him go. I did what I could to help her through it all; Marietta was nothing short of heroic. Assailed by my own guilt, I could never have withstood Cho's entreaties during that first hellish week, but with Marietta to back me up and keep me honest, I somehow did. I stayed up with Cho through sleepless hours; Marietta did homework for all three of us.

Gradually, Cho improved. For days at a time, she seemed fine. And then, without warning, there would be a relapse. Something would remind her, would set her off, and we would find her collapsed in helpless tears. And the nightmares kept coming. Our devotion never wavered but, by late October, Marietta and I were reaching the end of our strength. We were seriously considering sacrificing Cho's pride and dignity by turning her over to Madam Pomfrey, something we had sworn to her we would never do. Before we were reduced to this extremity, however, fate intervened once more in the unlikely person of Dolores Umbridge.

*

* *

It took me about five minutes, on the afternoon we all met at the Hog's Head to plot our rebellion against our latest and worst Defence teacher and the forces of idiocy at her command, to realize two things. The first was that whatever it was that Hermione had in mind, I was for it - it was about time someone did something, and we might as well be the ones. The second was that nothing further of interest was going to get done at this meeting. This left me free to occupy myself in other ways. I tuned out the words and started noticing the looks. Some interesting patterns were evident. Cho gazing longingly - almost hungrily, I thought - at Harry ... Hermione with an appraising smile, watching Cho watch Harry ... Harry in increasing desperation, looking anywhere except at Cho ... and none of them noticing the real news of the day; Ginny Weasley outright staring at Our Girl with an expression I knew only too well, having worn it myself for the better part of three years.

At the time, I knew Ginny only at second hand. She had achieved fleeting fame in her first year as the prisoner of the Chamber of Secrets, but had largely lived that down through subsequent years of studied obscurity. She was the sister of the infuriating Ron, of course, and had notoriously carried the torch for Harry the-oblivious-one Potter for years, although she looked to be over that now. She did, after a fashion, have Ravenclaw connections. She was one of the few people who seemed able to put up with Luna for any length of time - I gathered that they were neighbours at home and had known each other as children. At the end of the previous year, she had formed an attachment of sorts to Michael Corner, formerly one of Cho's greatest admirers. It now appeared that the two of them shared a taste in women, if nothing else.

Well, well, well, I remember thinking, this year's first victim of the Cho Chang Charm ...

Under the circumstances, I was all for it - anything to get beyond Cedric. Indeed, considering what we had been through over the previous six weeks, is it any wonder that Ginny Weasley, that day, appeared to me as salvation in red hair? She looked bright and happy and alive. She was in love with Our Girl. And she wasn't Harry Potter.

As the meeting ended, I saw Ginny talking intently to Luna, who gave her a vague smile and then nodded her head in my direction. I knew what was coming next. With hope in my heart, I made a point of starting back to school alone, and made sure that young Ginny saw me.

Sure enough, as I left the village I heard her come up behind me. For a moment she walked along silently next to me, but soon she found her voice.

"Hi ... Padma?"

"Yes?"

"I don't think you know me ... Ginny ... Ginny Weasley ... I was just talking to Luna, and she said ..."

"Ginny, it's all right. I know who you are - and I can guess what you want."

She blushed fiercely, but kept going. Gryffindor courage in action, no doubt.

"You do? You can? How...?"

"You want to talk about Cho, right?"

She stopped dead in her tracks and, for a fleeting moment, I thought she might run away, but no. The look that washed over her features was one of surprise, but mostly of relief. Now that I had spoken her terrible secret out loud for her, this conversation could only get easier.

"How did you know?"

"I saw you looking at her and, well, I've seen that look before. Cho has that effect on people sometimes."

"Oh... I ... I thought it was only on Harry ..."

A rueful smile with that, one I recognized. I answered with my own.

"And Cedric, and Roger, and Marietta ... and others too numerous to mention including ... well, including me."

"Oh Padma, I'm sorry!"

"Don't be. I'm over it, and we're still friends - that's one of the remarkable things about her, actually. She always manages to stay friends, afterwards."

"Always ... you make her sound ..."

"Promiscuous?"

"No! that's not what I meant..."

"Yes it is, and don't worry about it - look, Ginny, Cho is the dearest and most wonderful person I know, but you have to take her as she is."

Now she was frowning. I could see that I had confused and upset her. She was still determined, though. Determined to go on. Determined to understand. Determined to succeed. I liked that.

I found myself telling her things I never thought I would tell anyone, things no crawler ought to know. I told her about Cedric, of course, but that was only the beginning. I told her about the partnering and the bond it had created between Cho and myself. I told her how that bond had been tested and had survived. I told her about Cho's infinite capacity to give and receive affection. I told her that Cho would never be faithful and would always be loyal ... I did not sing her Mackie's song.

Perhaps I should have done. I could tell that she didn't believe me.

*

* *

I'll say this much for Ginny Weasley, once she made up her mind, she didn't waste any time. It was less than a week later, after the second DA meeting, that I came back to the common room after a stop by the library to find Marietta sitting alone, looking more than a little cross.

"Where's Cho?"

"I'm sure I don't know!"

Without further explanation she gathered up her things and stomped off upstairs. All was made clear some considerable time later when Our Girl herself finally came in. With one glance, I understood; the Fair Flower was back in bloom. She looked... well, the only word for it is radiant. Actually there was another word for it, a rather rude one made up by Mackie Culligan (Who else? He and Roger, I recall, very nearly came to blows over it) years before, totally unfair but just as totally accurate - Cho's J.L.L. he called it, her "just laid look." Quite unfair, as I said, because as a matter of fact Cho Chang was as modest physically as she was impetuous emotionally, but, as higher truth, it was spot on. I couldn't decide whether to sigh or smile. In the end I did both, and pulled her down to sit beside me.

"All right, Cho Li, tell all."

"You always know, don't you? Is it really that obvious?"

"To me it is - don't forget, I've been there."

We were long past blushes or reproaches over this. She just smiled, with the merest hint of coyness, and leaned closer to me.

"Do you really want to know?"

I put my arm around her shoulder and held her close.

"Yes, Li, I really do - and we both know that even if I didn't you'd tell me anyway."

"Well, I met somebody the other day, and I saw her again tonight. She's in Gryffindor."

"Just tell me it wasn't my sister!"

"Padma !! If you're going to tease I won't tell you a thing!"

"All right, I won't tease. Now tell."

And so she told. Not that I couldn't have guessed on my own. It was the big brown eyes and the long red hair, but most of all it was the earnest intensity that had so struck me on the walk back from Hogsmeade. Cho, I knew only too well, responded to affection, and Ginny Weasley, from what I had seen, had only too much to give. I didn't need the inner eye to predict an intense future for them.

"Well, I'll say this much. You two will certainly make a striking couple."

"But we can't, can we? I mean not in public. She's ... I mean, she's not ... you know"

I knew. She wasn't Ravenclaw. It wasn't a question of stupid House loyalty. It was a matter of culture. The broad toleration for pairings of all kinds that reigned here did not, as we knew very well, extend beyond the common room door.

"You'll have to be careful"

"I know. So does she. She's going to stay with Michael, at least for now."

"Now that is true devotion! And you can go after Harry..."

"Padma, don't joke about that!"

Now I really did sigh.

"Cho! Not him too. Not still ..."

"It's different! I've liked him forever - you know that. And now I think that he might like me too. But then every time I look at him I start thinking about, well, you know ... and then I just want to cry ..."

"Cedric, Cho, his name was Cedric and you have to start saying it."

"I know, I know. But, see, that's what's so great about Ginny. She doesn't remind me of ... him ... and she doesn't make me cry. Did you know she used to like Harry too? She told me all about it and we just laughed. And you should hear what she has to say about Michael!"

"Right. And I'll bet she doesn't lecture you either."

"Oh, Padma, I don't mind. You know that."

"I know. What I don't know is what we're going to do with you..."

Shaking my head, I kissed Cho on the forehead and went upstairs, leaving her to dreams of red haired love.

Once alone, I tried to work out the implications. Yes, I approved of the distraction, but this sounded serious. Did Cho have any idea what she was getting into? Did she know just how protective of their baby sister's morals and reputation Ginny's brothers were likely to be? Did she know that her newfound passion was the sister of the devoted, if inept, suitor of the one person in the world to whom she had taken a gratuitous and wholly undeserved dislike? And what about Ginny? Did she realize what it would be like to have as rivals a dead boy and the Hero of the Wizarding World? Just thinking about it all made me tired ... and I didn't know the half of it at the time.

Cho was blissfully unaware. Ginny, with a casual ruthlessness I was only beginning to suspect, knew perfectly well and just didn't care.

*

* *

Casual ruthlessness, it turned out, was precisely what we needed. Along with it came charm, humour, and deviousness in a good cause. With me at least, there were also occasional flashes of devastating honesty.

"I wasted three years waiting for someone I'll never have. I want her now. I'll do whatever it takes."

For better or worse, Ginny Weasley was clearly going to be part of my life for the indefinite future. I decided that this gave me the right to ask the obvious question.

"Ginny ... you don't have to answer this, but ... why? Why her? Why now?"

She thought for a minute before answering.

"In the beginning it was Harry. It was so obvious that he liked her ... and not me. I was curious. And then Michael liked her too. I should have been jealous. I wanted to be. I wanted to hate her but I couldn't seem to manage it. So I fell in love with her instead. There's something about her..."

She shook her head as she said that, and then smiled at me.

"But then you would know all about that, wouldn't you?"

"I do. Good luck."

I was rewarded with a kiss, quick and chaste, but somehow a lot older than fourteen.

"Thank you, Padma. From you, that means a lot."

She was being polite. She didn't need luck and she didn't need me. I soon realized that she understood instinctively what had taken me years to learn, what I had been trying to tell her on the way back from Hogsmeade that first day. Whatever her long-term plans, she was willing to take Cho as she was for the present and to delight in her contradictions.

She didn't need me, but she sought me out nonetheless; the contrast with Cedric couldn't have been greater. It was this that won me over altogether. I had always prized the fact that Cho was someone with whom I could talk about anything. Now, for the first time, I had someone to talk to about Cho, someone who understood.

It was Ginny who explained to me that 'the Harry Thing,' as she put it, would work itself out in time - and sooner rather than later. Kisses under the mistletoe notwithstanding, she knew the Boy who Lived well enough to be confident that, in this contest, he didn't stand a chance.

"The difference is, Padma, that when she kisses me she laughs."

There was that, of course. Being with Ginny Weasley, even for those of us who didn't get to kiss her on a regular basis, was a lot of fun.

Even Marietta came round quickly enough. It was she, as eldest of Astraï, who proposed that Ginny be given a password to the Ravenclaw common room. We had done this for my sister years before, but that was generally agreed to be a special case. To admit a crawler bound by ties of sentiment rather than blood was something we had never contemplated in all the time I had been there. Despite this, the council of eldests agreed after token discussion. It was for Cho, after all. We explained to Ginny that she would need to contribute a book of her own to the common room collection as the part of the entrance spell. She returned in five minutes with a copy of The Faerie Queen. Marietta smiled and asked who she fancied herself as.

"Belphebe, of course. Britomart's a prig."

The House approved; Ginny Weasley had acquired her password and become a cryptic Ravenclaw.

We did have to take Michael aside to explain that this was not about him. He sighed and nodded. Michael Corner had his hopes, but he wasn't stupid. He knew the score.