Veela Magic

Chapter 2: Needles in the Hay

Her heart's like crazy paving,

Upside down and back to front

She says, it's so hard to love when

Love was your great disappointment

She says a girl needs a gun these days

Hey, on account of the rattlesnakes

Cho Chang was sitting in a quiet corner of the Hogwarts Express. Her head rested on her hands as she watched the countryside flash by outside, absently noting each crossroads they passed.

Occasionally a Ravenclaw girl would poke her head around the door of the small carriage and suggest that she join the group outside, or attempt to chatter brightly about the upcoming year with her. One fourth-year had cheerfully asked: "So, how was your summer?" Cho had simply raised her head and stared, eyes narrowed, at the young Ravenclaw. The poor girl's face had turned bright red and she'd bolted, muttering indistinct apologies as she disappeared.

Cho had felt a bit guilty after that - but after all, what did people expect? That she'd shrug off the death of the boy she loved the same way she shrugged off Quidditch losses or bad marks in Transfiguration? That after a couple of months' holidays, she'd bounce right back into her cheerful, popular self? Huh. Cheerful Cho Chang. It even alliterates. Cho laughed bitterly.

At that point, a tousled head peeked nervously around the doorway. It was Harry Potter, looking concerned and fidgety.

"So, Cho... heard you laughing there. Feeling a bit better, are you?" After receiving nothing more than a piercing gaze, Harry bit his lip and rushed on: "You see I was really worried about you - I still am, I was worried all summer and I couldn't stop thinking about Cedric either and I don't know if you have but I just had to see if you were all right..." Harry paused, gulping some air in and went on: "... because what happened, it was terrible and you must be feeling terrible too and I want you to know that if I can do anything, anything at all to help you I will..."

Harry trailed off. He couldn't quite fathom the expression on Cho's face. She was sad, obviously - he noticed some recent tearstains and cursed himself inwardly for the Feeling a bit better, are you? - but there was also a cold glint in her eye that looked almost... like anger. Harry gulped again. He'd obviously said all the wrong things, just like he usually did with Cho.

"Maybe I'd... better go then. Bye, Cho... take care..." and with that he hurried out of the compartment.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Went well then, eh?" said Ron wryly, as Harry flopped down into the seat opposite him and buried his head in his hands.

"Remember that time we drove your dad's car into the Whomping Willow?"

"Yes, I think it may have something to do with the way Mum brings it up every time I want to go somewhere without the whole bloody family keeping an eye on me. Worse?"

"Much worse," Harry groaned.

"I think you're being rather silly about this," said Hermione primly, looking up from her new prefect's badge, which she'd been absently polishing on the sleeve of her robe. "You should just try talking normally to the girl for a change, rather than practising ridiculous speeches for hours on end and then gasping them out at her at the speed of the Hogwarts Express."

"He does that, you know," interjected Ron. "I think his mirror was quite hurt that Harry didn't really want to take it to the Yule Ball, even after he'd asked it so many times."

"It's just never going to happen," Harry sighed. "How could I ever ask her out now? She was Cedric's girlfriend, after all. And she's a year older than me, and she's the most popular girl in Ravenclaw, and she probably thinks I'm an idiot..."

"Excellent powers of observation there, Potter," drawled a voice from the doorway. "I must say I'm impressed."

It was Draco Malfoy. Harry whirled around to face him.

"Finally coming to terms with it, are we, Potter? Let's see..." Malfoy began ticking points off his fingers, smiling coolly all the while. "Chang rejects you, goes out with Most Overrated Hufflepuff In Hogwarts, you make a fool of yourself repeatedly, she rejects you again, the Hufflepuff boyfriend dies in suspicious circumstances, a certain infatuated twerp from Gryffindor being the only witness..."

At this, Ron nearly leapt furiously at Malfoy, but was restrained by Harry's warning hand.

"So that was the plan, was it? Comfort her sweetly after poor, dear Cedric passed on? Give her a shoulder to cry on? Interesting plan, Potter. Definitely more devious than I would have given you credit for. Pity you're so hopeless with women, isn't it? It's not as if Chang's a bad-looking girl - I'm sure she'll have plenty of more attractive offers if she decides to move on."

If Ron hadn't been blocking Hermione's route to the aisle, she might well have jumped up and slapped Malfoy again, Harry thought. She contented herself with staring furiously at Malfoy, who was leaning against the doorway, a small smirk playing over his mouth. Ron had turned puce, and was gritting his teeth.

"I'd think you, of all people, would know exactly what happened that night," Harry said quietly.

Malfoy's face tightened, and an expression Harry had never seen before flickered quickly over his grey eyes.

"Really, Potter? Glad you're recognising my intelligence at last," he replied finally. Malfoy's voice was outwardly calm, but Harry could sense the unease that lay behind it.

"Didn't your father tell you, Malfoy? Voldemort killed Cedric. And then he summoned his Death Eaters, and your father was first in line, fawning at Voldemort's feet and swearing his loyalty. Maybe if you're lucky, he might take you along next time. Wouldn't you enjoy that, Malfoy? The chance to be the Dark Lord's slave..."

Harry's eyes were boring directly into Malfoy's, and his steady voice was relentless. He saw Malfoy flinch at the mention of Voldemort's name, and the involuntary clench of his jaw as Harry taunted him with Wouldn't you enjoy that, Malfoy?

"I won't forget this, Potter," said Malfoy, his voice low and fierce. He stared at Harry one last time, and then turned and hurried quickly out of the carriage.

Harry watched him go, feeling strangely empty. He'd definitely won that little war of words - but Malfoy had only said what other people, all around him, were thinking. Maybe that was why Cho had stared at him like that. She'd thought... that he'd actually... oh fuck...

"Harry?" Hermione was squeezing his hand gently. "Harry, that was brilliant! You sent Malfoy away with his tail between his legs. I bet he's sorry he ever walked in here!" She smiled viciously.

"Didn't you hear what he said?" Harry muttered. "About Cedric - I know that's why Cho wouldn't talk to me."

"Nobody could possibly be thinking that!" Hermione said indignantly. "The very idea - Dumbledore told everybody at the end of term what happened. They all know you did your best to help Cedric - it's you who had to face He Who Must Not Be Named afterwards, and you nearly died! You're a hero, Harry."

Harry looked away, unable to meet Hermione's bright eyes.

"Well..." Ron was looking very uncomfortable. "Actually... over the summer Percy was telling me... and there were a few articles in the Daily Prophet... well, there are a few people who've got the wrong end of the stick about this," Ron finished in a rush.

"What?" Hermione's jaw dropped. "Oh, that Rita Skeeter - it's all her fault. How on earth could people believe those lies she wrote? Not, of course, that she does it any more," she added smugly.

"It's not Rita," Ron admitted, looking miserable. "It's ordinary journalists now. They remember what she said about Harry using the Dark Arts to win the Tournament - and then look what happened. They're saying she was proved right. And Fudge isn't helping, going round denying to anyone who'll listen that You-Know-Who is back. Dad's hopping mad about it, but there's nothing he can do."

"So..." Hermione's brow furrowed. "What can we do to prove that Harry was telling the truth, and that the Dark Lord really is back? I know!" she exclaimed, turning to Harry. "Harry, what about using a Pensieve? We could show everyone exactly what happened! I can just imagine Malfoy's face when he has to watch the proof that his own father was there, and that you're innocent..."

"No!" Harry interrupted. "Look, I know what you're trying to do, but it won't help. People are going to believe what they want to believe, and nothing I do is going to change that. Anyway..." he added, with a small shudder, "I don't exactly want to have to concentrate on it all over again, and put it into a Pensieve for everybody to see."

"Fair enough," Ron said, patting Harry on the arm. "Pity, though... I'd really like to have seen Malfoy's face when you showed him that."

"Malfoy knows damn well what happened," Harry said shortly. "He was just trying to rile me up."

"Exactly," Hermione said, looking at Harry with concern. "Harry... you know anybody with an ounce of decency, who's ever spent any time with you... you know they'd never believe disgusting rumours like that, don't you?"

"Yeah, I suppose so," Harry said. He didn't really feel like arguing with Ron and Hermione right now. All he wanted to do was put his head down and not think about it for a while.

"Good," Ron said, giving him a tentative smile. "Hey, I brought some cards with me - anyone up for a game of Exploding Snap?"

"Nah, I think I'll just try to close my eyes for a while," Harry said.

He could see Ron and Hermione exchange a worried look as he laid his head on the table.

* * * * * * * * *

"Yolland, Gwendolyn!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

Another set of first years had been Sorted. The Gryffindors waited impatiently for dinner to be served - it seemed like hours since the Sorting had begun. But Harry, Ron and Hermione had their minds on other things.

"Where's Professor McGonagall?" Hermione asked, idly tapping her fork against the table. "She usually organises the Sorting. But Professor Flitwick called the names out, and I can't see her anywhere."

"Probably off trying to think up new ways to punish Peeves," Ron suggested. "Did you hear he told some first years there'd been a mistake in their Hogwarts letters, and they were to go back on the train?"

"We'll find out later," Harry said. "Anyway, Lupin's back! Did you see him at the staff table?"

Harry waved to Lupin, who gave him a warm smile in return.

"He must be back teaching us Defence Against the Dark Arts again!" Ron said happily. "The Ministry must have figured that with the war on and all, they could do a lot worse than a werewolf teacher."

"Well, we could certainly do with a decent Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher this year," Hermione agreed. "Do you realise we'll be taking our O.W.L.s in only ten months? And there's so much we haven't covered in class yet."

Harry and Ron groaned in unison. "Please, Hermione... not tonight..." Ron begged.

"We'll start worrying first thing tomorrow morning," Harry said with a grin. "Promise."

"Speak for yourself," murmured Ron.

Luckily, Hermione didn't hear him, because just then Professor Dumbledore stood up to address the Great Hall. The Hogwarts students, old and new, stopped their chatter and turned expectantly towards him.

"Firstly, I would like to apologise to you all for the lateness of your dinner," said Dumbledore resignedly. "It appears that our poltergeist has been playing merry havoc in the kitchens again. However..." he added with a twinkle, "particular forms of house-elf magic are extremely effective against poltergeists, and the kitchen elves have been given a free rein to deal with Peeves, should he bother them again. I believe that future meals will be prompt - and delicious."

Ron sighed. "Just so long as they use that house-elf magic to hurry up with tonight's meal, is all I'm asking," he whispered. Hermione shot him a dirty look.

"Secondly, I regret to inform you that the Department of Mysteries has requested the assistance of Professor Minerva McGonagall for some length of time, and that she will be away for the duration of the academic year. She fully intends to return at the beginning of next year, however, and to take up all her old duties again."

The uproar caused by this news was interrupted by the late arrival of the feast, platefuls of which suddenly appeared in front of every student. Who'll be Head of Gryffindor now? Harry wondered, as he began to tuck into his steak and baked potatoes.

"Professor McGonagall's old post as Transfiguration teacher will be filled by Professor Lupin," Dumbledore continued, munching on a breadstick. "Many of you will of course remember Professor Lupin, who taught Defence Against the Dark Arts here two years ago."

With a stern look at the Slytherin table, Dumbledore added: "I am sure those of you who saw fit to contact the Ministry about Professor Lupin's varied talents will be pleased to have the opportunity to benefit from them in the Transfiguration classroom."

Harry noticed Blaise Zabini looking particularly ill at ease, and smiled. Still, he wasn't particularly happy about the appointment himself. Surely Lupin would have been better suited to taking up the Defence Against the Dark Arts post again?

Ron seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "I bet he got shunted into Transfiguration because the Ministry wouldn't trust a werewolf with Defence Against the Dark Arts," he muttered angrily. "Bloody bigots."

"I hope Advanced Transfiguration will still be on!" Hermione exclaimed. "Professor McGonagall said I showed exceptional promise in Transfiguration and I could join the class this year. I was really looking forward to it! But I don't think Professor Lupin's ever taught Transfiguration before..."

"He's a werewolf, Hermione!" Ron pointed out. "He'll be brilliant at Transfiguration - who better?"

"Ssshhhhh!" cautioned Harry. Ron's raised voice was drawing curious glances, and Harry didn't particularly want the whole table to suddenly find out that Lupin was a werewolf. There must be plenty of first years that hadn't heard yet, and Harry would prefer it to stay that way. He liked Lupin very much, and didn't want to see him forced to resign again.

"As Professor McGonagall will only be away for one year," Dumbledore went on, "I see no need to appoint a new Deputy Head in her place. However, her duties as Head of Gryffindor House were extensive, and I have appointed an interim Head of House for the upcoming year."

Harry gave Lupin the thumbs-up sign. That almost imperceptible smile on Dumbledore's face could only mean good news.

"Our esteemed Divination mistress, Professor Sybil Trelawney, will be Head of Gryffindor for this year," Dumbledore announced blandly.

Harry spluttered.

"I have every belief that Professor Trelawney will acquit herself in a manner to make her predecessor proud," Dumbledore said, unperturbed by Hermione's yelp of indignation. "I understand she is especially anxious to teach meditation and scrying techniques to the Gryffindor Quidditch team, in order to... something about 'harmonising the alignment of the Inner Eye and the Outer Eye', wasn't it, Sybil?"

Ron began to softly beat his head against the table. Harry was about to follow suit, when he noticed Draco Malfoy sitting at the Slytherin table laughing, pointing at the Gryffindors and talking triumphantly to his cohorts. Harry sat up straight and looked directly at Malfoy, wordlessly daring him to insult Trelawney loud enough for the teachers to hear. Malfoy stopped laughing, and instead contorted his features into an exaggerated grimace of sympathy. Harry was about to shake his wand threateningly at Malfoy, but then he saw Crabbe looking at Malfoy - who was now miming tears - with a confused expression on his gormless face, and instead burst out laughing himself. It really was quite funny.

"Should, of course, any of the other teams feel that this training will give Gryffindor an unfair advantage, they are most welcome to make an appointment with Professor Trelawney in order to learn the same techniques," Dumbledore said. "I believe Professor Trelawney is always anxious to instruct new pupils." He looked reprovingly at Harry.

Harry stopped laughing, but couldn't control his grin.

"As has become customary," sighed Dumbledore, "I would now like to introduce your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

A young man in yellow robes, seated at the far end of the staff table, pushed his chair back and stood up. He was quite short, and the tall Astronomy teacher, Professor Sinistra, had hidden him from Harry's view before now.

"Older siblings of yours may well remember Professor Ethan Cinyras, who distinguished himself as a Chaser for Hufflepuff in a particularly exciting Quidditch Final ten years ago. I recall that match clearly - it lasted for five hours, and the Hufflepuff lead was slowly but surely mounting before the Slytherin Seeker caught the Snitch and won the game for Slytherin."

Scattered cheers were heard from the Slytherin table. Some Hufflepuffs turned to look angrily at the Slytherins, and then the Hufflepuff table led the Hall in a welcoming round of applause for the new teacher.

"Doesn't look like much, does he?" Ron commented. His voice was muffled by a strawberry tart that had just appeared on his dessert plate. "Still, neither did Lupin at first. Remember those mouldy old robes he always used to go around in?"

"Yes - I think he's still wearing them, actually," said Harry. Lupin's brown robe was definitely frayed at the hem. Harry considered commenting that Ron's robes were hardly in the best condition themselves, but thought better of it.

"Sixthly... or was it seventhly?" said Dumbledore thoughtfully, "it gives me great pleasure to welcome back the Beauxbatons champion of last year's Triwizard Tournament, Fleur Delacour."

"What!" Ron gasped. He began to feverishly scan the Ravenclaw table for signs of Fleur. "Harry, did you hear that?"

Harry nodded, and looked at the Ravenclaw table. Then he saw her. Fleur was sitting near the opposite end of the Hall, between Padma Patil and a Ravenclaw boy Harry didn't recognise. She was wearing ordinary black Hogwarts robes, and her long silvery hair was tucked behind her ears as she ate. Fleur looked up as she felt Harry's gaze on her, and watched him contemplatively for a moment. Then her eyes moved to Ron, who was staring at her with wonder and frantically trying to straighten his tie. She smiled sweetly at him.

"Wow..." Ron exhaled softly. His fork was suspended in the air as he gazed at Fleur. Hermione turned to look at him, snorted, and returned to her dinner.

"Miss Delacour hopes to work in the British Ministry of Magic when she leaves school, and has decided to spend her seventh year at Hogwarts in order to improve her English and take the NEWT exams, which are not offered in Beauxbatons," Dumbledore went on. "Many of you made her acquaintance last year - " ("Many boys," Harry heard Parvati whisper to Lavender Brown) "and I trust that you will shortly make her feel at home in Hogwarts."

Several boys seated near Fleur nodded, almost involuntarily, at Dumbledore's words. Ron dreamily pushed his chair back and made to go over to the Ravenclaw table, but Hermione's hand shot out and grabbed the sleeve of his robe. "Don't be stupid!" she muttered forcefully. Harry felt Fleur's stare, heavy as a warm cloak, pass over Ron and settle on him for a moment, before moving away and continuing its sweep of the Hall. He followed Fleur's line of sight, and his eyes fell on Cho.

Cho had pushed her half-finished dinner away, and was staring at Dumbledore. Or was she? It was hard to tell from this distance, but she seemed slumped in her seat - Harry wasn't sure she was even listening. His heart sank. She's thinking of last time - the black drapes, and Dumbledore's speech, and the empty seat at the Hufflepuff table...

Suddenly the noise of chairs being scraped back arose all around Harry. He blinked, and realised that Dumbledore must have finished the announcements and ordered them all off to bed. Hermione was walking just ahead of him. Harry got up slowly, and followed her out of the Hall, wondering when he'd get a chance to speak to Cho again.

* * * * * * * * *

Draco walked through the doors of the Hall, glancing curiously at Potter and Weasley. The Weasel seemed to have developed a nasty case of Gillyweed poisoning. His mouth was opening and shutting soundlessly, like a dying fish. Maybe that's the Weasley mating call or something. Didn't seem to be working on Fleur - she'd already turned the smile on a Ravenclaw prefect, and was speaking to him in a languorous, breathy voice. He seemed mesmerised, although whether he was actually taking in anything she was saying was debatable.

Draco's lip curled slightly - honestly, some people were so gullible. He wasn't fooled in the slightest by Fleur's Veela charm - his mother had been just the same. He'd seen her pull the same trick often enough with guests at dinner. When his father was busy plotting his next career move, his mother would play the flirtation game with the guests. Not that she actually meant anything by it, of course - she was hopelessly in love with her husband, and just wanted to prove to herself that she could still captivate a man. It was... sad, really. Sometimes, watching her, Draco would wonder whether Veela blood was a greater curse than it was a gift. His mother had used her Veela charisma to enthrall Lucius when they were both students at Hogwarts, and had got her wish - they'd married, only a year after leaving school. And now she was learning that the allure that came with being part-Veela didn't exactly assure a lifetime of connubial felicity.

Draco shook his head impatiently - he'd been forced to look after his mother all summer, and he didn't want to start worrying about her again now that he'd finally gotten away from the Manor.

He looked over at the stream of Gryffindors again. Potter wasn't looking too happy himself - he was walking down the corridor as if he didn't really care where he was going, and he wasn't paying any attention to the excited chatter all around him. Draco had a pretty good idea why - Cho Chang had just disappeared around the next bend of the corridor.

Draco smiled. Looked like Potter hadn't been quite as unfazed by their little encounter on the train as he'd pretended. Honestly, had nobody told him about the rumours before? He wasn't doing himself any favours by getting dreamy-eyed over Chang the whole time - he might as well have written "MOTIVE!" on his forehead.

Draco chuckled softly. Next Gryffindor/Ravenclaw match is going to be quite interesting, I think.

Draco headed down the corridor leading to the Slytherin common room in heightened spirits. He'd only been back in Hogwarts a few hours and already he was causing Harry Potter trouble. With any luck, things would stay this way. He wouldn't have to do anything more serious, like he'd been afraid of over the summer... after all, Hogwarts was protected. He'd like to see his father force obedience on him here.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Fleur walked towards her new room with a heavy tread. She should have been more persistent about getting a private room - after all, she was a final-year student. In Beauxbatons, each Terminale student was allotted a private en suite bedroom, with a house-elf assigned to each six students. She'd so looked forward to getting away from the dormitory - most of the other girls hadn't liked her. Oh, they'd been careful not to show it openly, they knew they couldn't afford to get on the bad side of the Beauxbatons champion, but she'd heard the whispers. She's part-Veela. She's not like us. They'd been so stupidly jealous of her, just because the Beauxbatons boys couldn't help ogling Fleur every time she walked down for dinner. Really, one would think they'd have gotten used to the sight of her after all these years! There had been that one girl from Martinique who'd known what it was like, who'd understood Fleur's desperate loneliness... but that had finished some time ago.

Well, at least it was only a two-person room, not a rowdy dormitory. One roommate couldn't be that much of a distraction.

Fleur pushed open the door. Lying on one of the beds was a small, dark-haired girl with almond-shaped eyes. She was lying motionless, and staring straight up at the ceiling. She looked like she'd been staring at it for some time. Fleur was hesitant to approach her.

"Hello... my name is Fleur. I'm your new roommate."

The girl slowly turned to look at her. "I remember you." She swung her legs off the bed, and extended her hand to Fleur. "My name's Cho."

Fleur shook Cho's hand, and tried to remember having met this girl last year. She definitely seemed familiar... Then it came to her. The lake. She'd been hysterically clasping Gabrielle to her - for once, not caring one whit about the stupid Tournament, just that in the only task that had mattered, she'd failed her sister - and Cedric had been lovingly wrapping a towel around a small, pretty girl, who was shivering from her long immersion. We've taken what you'll sorely miss...

"Yes, of course... I do remember you," said Fleur gently. "I didn't realise at first - I'm very sorry. You must have had such a terrible few months..."

Cho made a small shrug. "Worst summer of my life. Quite possibly the worst summer imaginable. But you wouldn't understand - don't let it bother you."

But I do understand, thought Fleur. The emptiness - like a vast hole has suddenly opened up beneath you, and you have to claw your way up its slopes to escape. Sometimes, you don't even want to escape, and it would just be so much easier to fall...

I did escape. I have a purpose now: I can make sense out of this world; I know what I have to do. But this girl... I think she may be falling.

"Let it bother me?" Fleur repeated. "You're suffering, Cho, and if you would let me try, I would do whatever I could to help to ease the pain. But if there's one thing I've learned... it's that you're the only one who can truly help yourself. So if you like, I'll never talk to you about this again, and we'll pretend that you haven't just gone through hell. Just so long as you promise me that you won't let it destroy you."

Fleur checked herself, shocked at the outburst she'd just made.

Cho, meanwhile, was staring at her, openmouthed. Then she said thoughtfully: "You know, I don't think I'd mind talking about this some more with you. Some other time," she added hurriedly, and sat down on her bed again.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Cho said, and flashed Fleur a quick smile.