Heart In Hand

Chapter 2

It was nearly two in the morning when Cho drunkenly stumbled through the door to her hotel room. It had taken her five tries and considerable effort to fit her key into the lock and turn it. As she passed by the dusty mirror that hung on the wall, she stopped to examine her reflection. She usually looked polished and put together, but the Cho that stared back at her was a completely different person.

Her jet black hair was slightly mussed, strands escaping from her elaborate French twist left and right. Traces of where her eyeliner had run down her cheeks from crying were still visible despite her efforts to wash it off, her clothes were rumpled and slightly disheveled, and she stunk of liquor. Flopping down on her rickety bed, she groaned. She thought she had broken the habit, but once again she had overindulged herself at a party. At least she wasn't the only one. Oliver Wood would have one hell of a hangover tomorrow morning.

Cho had followed Angelina's instructions and talked to Charlie after dinner about joining the Order of the Phoenix. He had given her all the same precautions- "look what happened to my siblings!"- that the others had. He told her to sleep on it and send him an owl tomorrow.

Why did everyone always assume Cho was so afraid of dying? She herself had contemplated taking her own life, and was no more vulnerable than Katie. After all, Katie's family had been screwed up since she was born, and she was just as much of a mess when she came to Hogwarts as Cho had been upon leaving, perhaps more so.

During her school years Cho had never been a particularly good witch. She did alright in classes, when it came to dueling she was hopeless. She had tried during DA meetings, and during her third year when the heir of Slytherin's monster was on the loose she had signed up for the dueling club, but she always made the mistake of partnering with her friend Marietta. Sure, Marietta was a nice person, but she was never serious. Even when Cho was in a suicidal mood Marietta would laugh and think it was a joke. Naturally, dueling with her was a bit of a nightmare. Marietta laughed at Cho when she couldn't do a simple spell, and then she would do something ridiculous like shoot a rubber chicken out of her wand.

As she got older, her incompetence grew. She would often wonder whether she was meant to be a Hufflepuff instead of a Ravenclaw, for she worked so hard but never really got the results she wanted. Yet she would try again and again. It was not until her seventh year that everything came together for her. Suddenly, she understood the theories behind advanced potion making, laws of physics that were necessary for charms. It was like someone had cast a spell on her the first six years of her education that was just then wearing off. She still couldn't duel, but it could be taught.

Cho pushed her head into the thin pillow, trying to forget the night's events. By the time she woke up the next morning, she knew they would be wiped from her previously intoxicated mind. Her head would be splitting with pain, her ears would be ringing, and she'd be tired as hell and she wouldn't remember a thing.She should have done everything differently.

She hated that she had let her old problems get to her. She thought she had left those behind when she had left school. It had been hard work, too. Learning to drink in moderate amounts, then less and less until she finally stopped. Alcohol had been her safe haven at Hogwarts. She began drinking when she was a fourth year, nothing much, just hanging out with some friends. They had all stopped but Cho couldn't. All her life she had been the same way, down on the inside pretty on the outside, but life wasn't so bad if you could just get out of it. Firewhiskey was easy to get if you were a student at Hogwarts. They'd never sell it to you at the Three Broomsticks, but the Hog's Head was a different story. She used to buy a few bottles, sneak them into school, and then whenever she was feeling particularly depresses, she'd have a drink.

She never got caught, no one would ever assume that perfect, beautiful, popular Cho Chang was an alcoholic, and that was the way she'd liked it. Stopping was painful, but she knew she had to if she ever wanted to make something of herself. During her self-rehabilitation period, her grades slipped, her emotions became even worse, and she became violently sick once a week. Yet she kept holding on to her dreams of her future, and she made it through.

Now though, Cho had just erased all her hard work. After talking to Charlie, she went to the bar to have a drink. She was no longer an alcoholic, but just like everyone else she still enjoyed a martini now and then. She settled herself at the bar next to Oliver Wood. "Hey," she said after ordering a margarita.

"You're crazy, Chang," he told her. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into with the Order. Things have always been rough but now..."

"What, you mean since Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny died?"

"Not just them," he sighed. "An auror bit the dust last week, too. Nymphadora Tonks, killed by her aunts. Do you know her?"

"No...God, that's awful."

"Mmm..."

The bartender set down Cho's drink and Oliver ordered another firewhiskey. "You trying to get yourself drunk?" Cho asked him sarcastically.

"Quite possibly," he sighed. She laughed. That was how it went most of the night, the two of them drinking and trading short phrases, sometimes things about the Order, sometimes personal things, sometime about Quidditch, but all of them mixed with a little bit of sarcasm. They had been some of the last people to leave the reception, both severely inebriated.

Oliver watched her as she got into her carriage, tripping slightly. "Hope you join," he said thickly. She just giggled in response to this.

Staring up at the ceiling, Cho groaned. She felt like she and Oliver had gotten to be friends during that evening. Looking back, though, she couldn't help but wonder whether it all had been the liquor talking. Slightly dazed, she mustered the strength to get up and change into an oversized t-shirt and flannel pajama pants, turn down the bedclothes, and fall back onto the mattress drawing the comforter over her head. Cho didn't know what had just come over her, but suddenly she began to cry. Tears rolled silently down her cheeks. This was what it had been like at school, drink too much and fall into bed crying.

It was hard for her to explain, even to herself. Somehow, it felt like every time she got close to making something out of her life, everything she'd worked for would just slide away, teetering on the edge of hope for a brief moment before falling back into the canyon of her erotic grief. She had decided to join the most heroic struggle against You-Know-Who there was, to sacrifice herself for others, and then she had destroyed the moment of her pride and joy by lifting a martini glass to her lips too many times.

Hastily, she scribbled a note to Charlie Weasley:

Charlie,

I took your advice and "slept on it." I'm in.

~Cho

It got her point across, yet was discreet enough so that if it fell into the wrong hands no harm would come of the interception. She placed it carefully on the bedside table. She'd send it to him in the morning.

Cho quickly fell asleep, only to be awakened by the sun rising four hours later. She sat up. Her head hurt like hell, and true to form she couldn't remember anything that had happened after the actual service. She glanced at the piece of parchment on the table beside her and suddenly it all came back. She went into the bathroom in desperate need of some Advil, a cold shower and a cup of coffee. Turning the shower knob, she prayed the water wouldn't be as brown as the sink water. It wasn't. She dug some Advil out of her cosmetic bag and looked into the cracked mirror. She could not have looked worse.

Her hair looked as though she had been stuck in a wind tunnel, the lipstick she hadn't bothered to wash off was smeared all over her face, and the dark circles under her eyes resembled the color of ink. She swallowed the Advil without water then, stripping off her clothes, stepped into the ice cold shower. It was like a sudden jolt, immediately waking her. Cho let the water wash over her, caressing her skin and soothing her aching limbs. She had wrenched her back while she was sleepy thanks to the crappy mattress, and even standing was starting to become a burden. Thankfully she was going home today. Today, her life might change forever with her joining of the Order. She might be able to quit her job as a waitress in a muggle diner. She'd probably have to, she'd theoretically be spending so much time in danger and fighting the Death Eaters that she wouldn't have time for senile old men asking her five times how much the vegetarian omelet was when it was right on the menu.

Stepping out of the shower, she wrapped a towel around herself and pulled her sopping wet hair into a ponytail. She pulled a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and for good measure, a sweatshirt out of her trunk and pulled them on. Lazily flicking her wand, her things began to come from every corner of the room toward her trunk. Leaving her things to pack themselves, she went downstairs to buy a cup of coffee and owl Charlie with her response. She had just purchased a cup of steaming black coffee when she ran smack into none other than Charlie himself.

"Charlie!" she exclaimed, trying not to spill her coffee.

"Er...hi," he said thoroughly embarrassed. "I just figured I'd spare you the hassle of owling me your reply about you-know-what. You didn't send it did you?"

"Not yet." Cho felt around in her pocket for a while, then, finally, her fingers closed around the small piece of parchment. She extended the note.

Charlie took it from her and nodded. "You're absolutely sure?"

"Positive."

He drew a quill from his pocket and scribbled an address on the other side. "This is the headquarters. Memorize it, then destroy this parchment. As soon as you get home you should come and meet the rest of the Order." Cho merely nodded. She was beginning to understand how deep she was going to get herself into the war, but unlike it would most people, it didn't scare, or even intimidate her. She said a quick goodbye to Charlie, then returned to her room.

Cho's things had finished packing themselves, and her trunk was sitting against a wall. She set her room key on the bedside table near a sign proclaiming "Upon checkout leave your key here." After checking to make sure no item had been forgotten, she walked over to her trunk. Grasping the handle, she quickly turned and felt her way into nothing. She had been a fast learner when it came to apparation, and was the first of her year to master it. At last she arrived with a jolt on the doorstep of her shabby little house.

Unlocking and opening the door, she stepped into the little front hall. The house was small, there was no doubt about it. It consisted only of a living room, bathroom, the front hall, a bedroom, and a kitchen that doubled as a dining room. She had decorated it as tastefully as she could with such a meager budget, but it still lacked atmosphere. She had bought it in a Muggle neighborhood not far from Janine's Family Diner where she waited tables and worked at the bar to sustain herself.

Hauling her trunk into the bedroom, she changed into a set of navy blue robes, dried her hair, and prepared to set out for number twelve Grimmauld Place. Recalling Charlie's instructions she burned the parchment bearing the name. Before she left she grabbed a bagel from her sparse breadbox. She hadn't had time to eat at the hotel, though judging by the emptiness of its dining room she wouldn't have wanted to.

Cho went out into her backyard, the likes of which was shielded from Muggle eyes by a high wooden fence. It was impossible to apparate onto her property anywhere but the front steps, but one could apparate out of any location on the property outside the house. Turning she again stepped into blank space. The familiar spinning sensation which had been so startling at first had now become tolerable, and barely noticeable. A few seconds later, she found herself on the corner of Ashbury Street, which appeared to be a very high end Muggle neighborhood, and Grimmauld Place which looked much like her own street, shabby and sad.

It was down Grimmauld Place that she strode, scanning the numbers on the houses. Number eight, number ten, but where there ought to have been number twelve, there was only number fourteen. Was this some kind of joke? An initiation of some sort? Where was number twelve? Cho's mind raced with possibilities, each as unlikely as the next. Then, out of nowhere, a house popped out of the ground forcing numbers ten and fourteen apart. Cho gaped at the houses, but there seemed to be no disturbance from within them. The letters twelve Grimmauld Place glistened on the door of the new house. Cautiously, she walked up the front steps and pushed the door open.

For the headquarters of an organization dedicated to vanquishing the Dark, the house struck Cho as very gloomy. Hardly any light escaped through the curtains that were drawn over the windows, and up and down the front hall were the heads of what looked to be old, decapitated House Elves. She shuddered, with the sneaking suspicion that their eyes were following her. She turned a corner and walked into a kitchen. Sitting around the table were a rather strange assortment of people. Charlie turned around to see who had just walked in on what was apparently an important matter. His eyes let up when he saw it was Cho. Most of the people around the table were sending quizzical looks in her direction. She could see Draco and Oliver, but aside from Charlie they were the only ones she recognized.

"Everyone," Charlie said turning back to the astonished faces. "This is Cho Chang. She's joined the Order." At this news the rest of the faces lit up.

"We can always use new faces," a large black wizard with a deep, booming voice said warmly.

"She came along at the perfect time, a replacement for poor Tonks," an odd looking man she vaguely recalled as a former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Mad-Eye Moody, mumbled gruffly.

"Pull up a seat," Oliver told her. Cho fished a chair from the corner of the room and slid hers in next to Charlie's.

"Where are Angelina, Alicia, and Katie?" asked a worn-out looking wizard who looked as though he had not slept in days.

"They went to break up a Death Eater convention," Moody replied.

"You sent them to do that themselves?" Draco exclaimed. "Do you know how many people show up at those things?"

"Can't say I do, Draco, as I've never been to one," Moody smirked.

"What are you saying?" Draco snapped at him. "I heard from my father, okay?"

"They'll get killed!" Oliver protested.

"They're excellent witches, Oliver, I'm sure they can handle themselves," the black wizard comforted him. No sooner had he said this than the front door squeaked open. They turned to look just as the kitchen door burst open. In walked Angelina and Alicia carrying a very bloody Katie between them.

"My God!" Oliver exclaimed. "What the hell happened to her? You two as well?" he added upon seeing the large bruise forming on Angelina's cheek and the cut dripping above Alicia's eye.

"We managed to break up the convention," Angelina began as they laid Katie, who was unconscious, on the table.

"But on our way back here we ran afoul of Lestrange," Alicia finished for her.

"Which one?" Moody asked. "Bellatrix, Rudolphous, or Rabastan?"

"All three," the two girls said in unison.

The bedraggled man grimaced and began to examine Katie. Her face alone was awful. Bruises were forming on her cheeks and forehead and scratches ripped across her face and neck, from whom blood was continuously oozing. Her nose was smashed and crooked and her forearms bore deep cuts as though stabbed by a dagger. Her robes were spattered with blood as well, giving her the appearance of a bombing survivor. "How did this happen exactly?" he asked.

We were walking through the forest after breaking up the convention when we were ambushed," Alicia told him. "One of their spells hit Katie in the back knocking her face-down onto a huge rock. She got up and cursed Rabastan, but Bellatrix used the opportunity to hit her with a Sectumsempra."

Draco looked at Katie's face. "Potter set one of those on me during sixth year, it wasn't this bad."

"Permit me to point out," the black wizard interjected, "that in his sixth year Potter was probably not the wizard that Bellatrix is now."

Oliver and Cho just looked at Katie, as though struggling to take it all in. Sure, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Tonks had all been killed recently, but this was the first time that a member of the Order had been so brutalized and left alive. "Why didn't they kill her?" Cho asked, beginning to understand more and more the minds of the Death Eaters. "Why leave her alive to fight them again?"

"We can only guess," said the shabby wizard. Oliver carried Katie up to her room, still looking mournfully at her battered features.

"He fancies her immensely," Alicia whispered to Cho as they trudged up the stairs accompanied by Angelina.

"Immensely," Angelina repeated.

Whether Oliver fancied Katie or not, he was certainly very concerned over her well being the rest of the night. He kept popping into the room Cho shared with Angelina, Alicia, and Katie just to make sure Katie was still breathing.

Cho rolled over in her bed, just in time to hear Alicia whisper from her bed, "Cho, you know Charlie fancies you as well, right?"

"Yeah right," Cho replied.

"Maybe not to the degree that Oliver likes Katie, but are you really trying to tell me that you didn't notice the way he was looking at you?" Angelina persisted.

Cho shook her head. "It's the truth," Alicia told her once more.

It's the truth. Alicia's words rang in Cho's head. What was really the truth anymore? Did Charlie like her? Was she really cut out for a position in the Order? Was this her forever? What really was forever? So many questions, not enough answers. Forever could be a single fleeting moment, or it could be the rest of her life. She'd never really know anything, but at the same time she'd never not know anything. It was just too confusing, really. The truth, the consequences. Cho didn't need her life to get any more complicated, but she had the feeling it just had.