Harry Potter and the Headsman's Hostage

Chapter 8
Condemnation

"No, no!" said the Queen. "Sentence first - verdict afterwards."
-----Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Carroll

"And what's a voice line-up? Public defender could get you out of that one...."
-----Dean Keaton, in The Usual Suspects

A little while later, they were all six seated around a table in the common room. Harry had introduced Cho to Ron and Hermione, whom she knew by sight but had never talked to before, and she had renewed her acquaintance with Remus Lupin, who, it turned out, had been among her favorite teachers, as well as theirs, during his single year at Hogwarts. "I still can't believe they forced you to resign over being a werewolf," she commented. "I mean, it's not as if you asked to get bitten, and with the Wolfsbane Potion you weren't a danger to anyone."

"Unless I forgot to take it," Lupin said. "Which I did, the last full moon of the year. I didn't end up biting anyone, but I easily could have... and it had other consequences." He cast an apologetic look toward Sirius.

"Not your fault, old friend," Sirius said. "You had a lot on your mind that night."

"What do you mean?" asked Cho.

"How much has Harry told you about how he found out I was innocent?" Sirius asked.

"Not very much; we had a lot to talk about."

"Ah. Well, it's quite a story. Would you like to hear it?"

"Yes, please," Cho said.

"It's pretty complicated. It really began back when Remus and I were at school together...."

As Cho listened raptly, Sirius and Lupin explained how Lupin had come to Hogwarts, how his friends had become Animagi so that they could keep him company during his transformations, and how they had joined the fight against Voldemort after their graduation. Harry kept a tight rein on his emotions as they described the suspicions that had divided them during the last, terrible year of the war, and the betrayal that had cost the lives of Harry's parents and sent Sirius to Azkaban for a crime he did not commit.

Sirius then told of his escape and his pursuit of Pettigrew at Hogwarts, pausing frequently to allow Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Lupin to give their perspectives on the events of that school year. Finally, they told of the bizarre chain of events that had unfolded on the night of their last exams: the unmasking of Peter Pettigrew in the Shrieking Shack, Lupin's untimely transformation and Pettigrew's escape, the dementors, the Time-Turner, and Harry's Patronus.

Cho was quiet for a while, absorbing all the new information. Finally, she said, "So... you're saying Pettigrew was Wormtail... and he was the one who...?"

"Yes," said Harry. "I'm sorry, Cho, I should have mentioned that before."

"It's okay, Harry. I'm not blaming you, I'm just trying to get it all straight."

"But if I hadn't stopped them killing Pettigrew--"

"Don't!" Cho interrupted. Harry recoiled; this was the first time she'd shown real anger. "Don't say it, don't even think it! You did what you believed was right; there was no way you could have foreseen what would come of it. And don't you start, either, Professor!" she added, rounding on Lupin, who appeared about to say something. "There are only three people to blame for what happened to Cedric, and neither of you are on the list."

Lupin smiled. "I was just going to agree with you. Harry, if you really feel the need to beat yourself up, you're going to have to find a more convincing excuse."

Harry raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "All right, I give. If you don't want to blame me, Cho, I won't insist on it."

She smiled at him. "That's better. Now, who wants to talk Quidditch?"

Hermione rolled her eyes as Ron grinned like a madman. "What team do you follow?" he asked.

"The Tornados."

"You and half of Britain."

"They are picking up a lot of new fans this year, aren't they? But I've supported them since I was six."

"Ah, well, that's all right then," said Ron. "I just don't care for fair-weather fans."

Cho laughed. "Let me guess: Chudley Cannons, right?"

Ron's smile turned rueful. "Got it in one."

"I have to admire your loyalty, then. You could have been in Hufflepuff."

"Nah, only a Gryffindor would be brave enough to keep going to their matches year after year."

At that point Dobby emerged from the kitchen with a large tray of sandwiches. The conversation continued as they ate, shifting from Quidditch to classes to speculation on who would teach Defense Against the Dark Arts the coming year.

They had just finished eating when the front door opened to admit Albus Dumbledore. The headmaster was followed by two other people: a tall young wizard with long red hair tied back in a ponytail and an obvious family resemblance to Ron, and a Chinese witch who looked to be in her early twenties, carrying a duffel bag. "Hello, Bill," called Ron, waving to his oldest brother.

Cho's reaction was more dramatic. "Liu!" she shouted, jumping up from her chair and fairly flinging herself into the other witch's arms.

Liu Chang set down her bag and caught her sister in a fierce hug. "Are you all right, sis?" she asked.

"I've been better," Cho replied. "But I'm alive, thanks to Harry and his friends."

"When you didn't come home last night, I called up Madam Edgecombe in the fire and found out you'd never been there. I was about to report you missing when Bill here rang the doorbell. He told me what had happened... I'm so sorry, Cho. I shouldn't have left you alone."

"It wasn't your fault, Liu," Cho replied. "And I'm glad you weren't in the shop; you could have been killed. Anyway, come and meet my new friends."

"One moment." Liu put a hand in her pocket and pulled out a wand. "I thought you'd want this back; I found it on the shelf under the register."

"Thanks a lot, Liu. You're right, I had to borrow Harry's just to clean my clothes this morning." Cho accepted her wand, then led Liu to the table and introduced her to Harry, Ron, Hermione, Sirius, and Lupin. Somebody had obviously already filled her in about Sirius, as she greeted the infamous fugitive with lively interest but no trace of surprise; Cho looked slightly disappointed at this non-reaction.

Liu, in turn, introduced Cho to Bill Weasley, whom she had known when they were both students at Hogwarts. Unlike her more studious sister, Liu had been Sorted into Gryffindor; Bill had been in the year just ahead of hers.

As the introductions were made, Harry studied Liu Chang. She was several inches taller than her sister, though still slightly shorter than Harry, and her lustrous black hair was cut shoulder-length, instead of hanging past her waist as Cho's did. She also had a somewhat rounder face and more solid build - more like a Chaser than a Seeker, Harry thought.

The three new arrivals joined the group seated around the table, and Dumbledore explained that he had arranged a meeting at the Ministry of Magic to report the events of the previous day. Naturally, Sirius and Buckbeak's involvement had to be omitted from the "official version" of Cho's rescue from the Death Eaters; Hermione's role would also pass unmentioned, as she had been riding Buckbeak. Bill was to give Sirius's account of the incident as though he had been there instead, while Lupin would claim responsibility for bringing down the man the hippogriff had slain. The latter had been identified as Roderick Spode, a Slytherin from the same year as the late Steggles.

In order to make Bill's account convincing, Dumbledore had brought along his Pensieve, a magical device resembling a large stone bowl which enabled memories to be transferred from one mind to another. Once the plan was explained, the headmaster, Bill, and Sirius retired to the library, where they wouldn't be distracted while using the Pensieve. In the mean time, Cho and Liu went upstairs to talk for a while in private, while Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Lupin discussed exactly what Harry and Lupin would tell the Ministry people about their respective roles in the incident.

The Chang sisters returned to the common room after about half an hour. Cho appeared calm, but it was obvious from her red-rimmed eyes that she had been crying. Liu explained that Dumbledore had strongly suggested Cho should remain at the Harrington Arms for another three nights while the Order made arrangements for the protection of the Changs' shop and residence. She expected that it would take at least that long for their parents to receive the message she'd sent them, as they had left Hong Kong for a remote region of mainland China to collect Chinese Fireball eggshells. Liu would have to return to the shop during the next two days to assist in setting up wards that would alert the Order if any curses or other combat spells were used there, but would spend the nights at the inn. Dumbledore was also looking into the possibility of having a member of the Order work in the shop until Cho returned to school.

A few minutes later, Dumbledore, Bill, and Sirius rejoined the group. Bill informed Ron and Hermione that Molly Weasley had insisted they return to the Order's headquarters that afternoon. Lupin also opted to return after the meeting, as he had been working with Mad-Eye Moody on further enhancements to the Order's Omnioculars and wanted to get back to it. Sirius volunteered (rather enthusiastically, Harry thought) to remain at the inn so that Cho wouldn't be left on her own during the day. Molly had wanted Harry to go to headquarters as well, but Cho asked if he could keep her company at the inn until she went home, and Sirius, as Harry's guardian, agreed.

Dumbledore produced a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans from a pocket of his robe, which would serve as a Portkey for Ron and Hermione. They each hugged Harry and wished him well, and Hermione whispered in his ear, "Remember what I told you last night." Harry smiled at her and nodded as she stepped back. Then she and Ron took hold of the box, Dumbledore spoke the command "Portus," and they were gone.

"Now," said Dumbledore, pulling a pocket watch that appeared to have at least a dozen hands out of his robe, "our meeting at the Ministry is in approximately ten minutes. Miss Chang, you may join us if you wish, or remain here; while your first-hand testimony would be useful, it is entirely up to you whether you wish to participate."

"I think I'll be all right, Professor," Cho replied. "As long as Liu can come with us."

"That should not present any difficulties," said Dumbledore. "Are you all clear on what you will say?"

There were nods and murmurs of agreement all round. "Then I see no reason to wait any longer."

"Good luck, everyone," said Sirius, stepping back out of the way. "I'll see you when you get back."

This time, the Portkey was a box of Chocolate Frogs. They each took hold of it, and for the fourth time in two days, Harry felt the all-too-familiar jerking sensation behind his navel, lifting him off the ground and drawing him on through a howling, kaleidoscopic cyclone.

Accustomed now to the hard landings that came with this mode of travel, Harry managed to keep his feet, even when Cho grabbed his arm for support. She flashed him a quick smile as she recovered her balance.

Looking around, Harry saw that they had landed in a spare, medium-sized room, furnished with a long rectangular table and a dozen chairs arranged along the long sides of it. The wall on the opposite side of the table had a large picture window that appeared to look out on the West End of London from at least thirty stories above the street.

"Is the Ministry of Magic in Centre Point tower?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Actually, it's underground," said Bill. "The windows are enchanted, and the view changes from day to day. When they use a view of the West End, it's always from the top floor of Centre Point..."

"'Cause it's the one place in the West End where you can't see Centre Point," said Liu, grinning.

Just then, Harry heard a door opening behind him. Turning around, he came face-to-face with a portly wizard in a pinstriped suit and scarlet necktie: Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic.

Fudge gaped in surprise for a moment, then assumed an expression of extreme irritation. "See here, Dumbledore," he said, "it simply won't do, Porting directly into my conference room. Visitors to the Ministry are supposed to come in through the main entrance."

"I wished to ensure that we arrived on time," said Dumbledore equably. "Several of the lifts were out of order this morning, and there were rather long lines for the ones that worked."

"That's no excuse for... oh, never mind," said Fudge, waving a hand dismissively. "Since you're all here, we may as well get started." He walked around to the far side of the table, followed by two other people. The first, Harry was surprised to see, was Percy Weasley. The newly appointed Junior Assistant to the Minister looked down his nose at Harry with no sign of recognition, then quickly averted his eyes as he noticed his older brother standing near the end of the table. Bill looked at him with something very like pity as he walked around to the far side to sit on the Minister's left.

The other person accompanying Fudge was a short, squat witch who resembled nothing so much as an oversized toad: she had a broad, flabby face, no neck to speak of, a wide, slack mouth, protuberant eyes, and a ridiculous black velvet bow in her curly hair, like a fly the toad was just about to catch on its tongue and swallow.

"Well, sit down," said Fudge, as the witch sat to his right. Cho took a seat in the middle of the near side of the table, with Harry and Liu to the left and right of her. Harry felt her take his hand under the table; glancing down, he saw that she was doing the same with Liu on her other side. Dumbledore sat to Liu's right, Bill and Lupin to Harry's left.

"I believe most of you know my assistant, Percy Weasley," said Fudge. "And this is Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister.

"So pleased to make your acquaintance," said the toad-witch, in a surprisingly high, girlish voice. She favored them all with a broad smile that left her bulging eyes as cold as ever.

"I had understood that Madam Bones was to be present at this meeting," said Dumbledore mildly.

"Yes, well," Fudge replied, "Amelia has been unavoidably detained by other matters, and Dolores has very kindly agreed to attend in her place." Harry noticed that the Minister wasn't meeting Dumbledore's eyes.

"I see," said the headmaster, gazing keenly at Fudge over his half-moon spectacles. "Well, then, shall we begin?"

"Are you ready, Weasley?" Fudge asked, glancing at Percy.

Percy had produced a large parchment scroll and a quill, obviously to record the details of the meeting. "Ready to go, sir," he replied.

"Very well. Miss Chang, I think we should hear your account first."

"All right," said Cho. She proceeded to give Fudge a slightly less detailed version of the story she had told Harry and Dumbledore the previous evening. She trembled a bit while describing the Death Eaters' plans for her and Harry, gripping Harry and Liu's hands under the table, but otherwise maintained her composure. Fudge frowned skeptically at her description of the dementors, but only interrupted her once, telling Percy to make sure he noted the name of Terence Higgs.

When she had finished, Bill described the ransom note, the reconnaissance of the cottage, and the fight from Sirius's point of view, just as though he'd been there himself. Lupin did likewise, but didn't mention his wound from the silver dagger (which had healed completely when he transformed back into a man), and asserted that it was he who had knocked Roderick Spode to the ground, accidentally snapping his neck.

Fudge's frown deepened at this revelation. "You attacked a wizard while in your lycanthropic form?" he asked.

"I attacked a Death Eater who was in the act of casting the Killing Curse at Harry," Lupin replied, keeping his tone carefully neutral.

"And you were under the influence of the Wolfsbane potion at the time?"

"Obviously." A bit of irritation crept into the werewolf's voice. "Otherwise I would have torn out his throat."

Harry noticed that Umbridge was staring at Lupin with an expression as hateful as the one Snape had worn the previous night. Unlike Snape's, however, her face also betrayed a hint of fear.

"Very well," said Fudge. "We'll leave that for the moment. Continue."

It was Harry's turn. Clearing his throat nervously, he began to speak, confirming the accounts Bill and Lupin had given, and describing the fight from his point of view. His mouth went dry and he had to stop for a moment as he recalled the sight of Macnair's great axe descending; this time, he was the one squeezing Cho's hand for reassurance. Then, as he and Lupin had rehearsed at the cabin, he told a modified version of his brief exchange of words with Macnair, omitting his threat to use the Avada Kedavra curse. "I tried to stun him, but he was too quick," Harry concluded. "He dived for his axe and Disapparated before I could get a clear shot.

Fudge was positively scowling now. "And you believe that this... alleged Death Eater you claim you fought with was Walden Macnair? How would you know, if you never saw his face?"

"I know Macnair's voice," said Harry coldly. "I heard it when he was at Hogwarts last year, and again one month ago, in the churchyard in Little Hangleton."

"Oh, not that nonsense again!" Fudge sputtered. "We've heard quite enough about this supposed return of You-Know-Who. It's been a month now, and there's no evidence whatsoever to suggest that he's at large again!"

"Not until last night," said Harry.

"Another of your stories!"

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "This 'story' is corroborated by three other witnesses, Cornelius. Also, the cottage in Argyllshire where these events took place has been thoroughly examined by Aurors Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks. I believe you will find that their report confirms much of the testimony we have heard this afternoon."

"All right, but even supposing that all of these improbable events did in fact occur, you're all overlooking the obvious. If the purpose of Miss Chang's abduction was to lay a trap for Harry Potter, the crime could only have been orchestrated by You-Know-Who's loyal servant: the fugitive murderer Sirius Black. We know he tried to kill Harry last year; clearly, he hasn't given up yet."

Harry stared at Fudge in dawning horror as he realized the flaw in all their planning: since Fudge absolutely refused to consider the possibility of Voldemort's return or Sirius's innocence, it would indeed appear obvious to him that Sirius was behind any genuine attack against Harry - and nothing Harry could say would change his mind.

"Well, hurry up, boy," said Fudge. "This has taken up enough of our time as it is. I suppose you're going to repeat the girl's absurd claim that there were half a dozen dementors there, and you drove them off by conjuring a Patronus?"

Harry glanced at Cho. There were tears in her eyes, but this time they indicated neither grief nor horror, but barely restrained rage - she looked ready to leap across the table and strangle Fudge with her bare hands. Harry could sympathize, as he'd been thinking along the same lines. However, he gave Cho's hand another squeeze and said as calmly as he could, "That's right."

"I ask you, Dumbledore," said Fudge. "A fifteen-year-old boy, conjure a Patronus? And you believe this nonsense?"

"I taught Harry the Patronus Charm," Lupin interjected. "I can attest that he had mastered it by the time I left Hogwarts."

"Would you like to see it, Mr. Fudge?" Harry asked, pulling out his wand.

"Put that away!" Fudge shouted. Dumbledore nodded curtly at Harry, who reluctantly returned the wand to his pocket.

Dolores Umbridge, who had remained silent as Cho, Bill, Lupin, and Harry gave their evidence, suddenly gave an odd little cough. "Hem hem. Not to give too much credence to these children's story, Minister, but--"

Harry seethed at her patronizing description of his and Cho's testimony, but just barely held his temper. Cho, however, shot up out of her chair, yelling, "I've had enough!" Turning her back on the conference table, she wrenched the door open and slammed it shut behind her. A moment later, Liu silently rose and followed her.

"Well, Dumbledore," said Fudge, "I don't know what you're teaching them at that school these days, but respect for their elders obviously isn't part of the curriculum."

"Miss Chang has been through a very bad time in the past two days, Cornelius," said Dumbledore coolly. "I believe she has every right to be upset."

"Yes, well, be that as it may," Fudge said, "she had no business interrupting the Senior Undersecretary. Now, what were you about to say, Dolores?"

"Well, before I was so rudely interrupted, I was going to suggest that if Black had somehow succeeded in suborning a small number of dementors, it would explain how he was able to escape from Azkaban."

Fudge looked surprised, then thoughtful. "I suppose you do have a point. All right, Dumbledore, the Ministry will investigate this rumor of renegade dementors in league with Black, and take a good look at that Higgins person the girl mentioned." Percy leaned over and whispered in Fudge's ear. "Higgs, yes. That's why I told you to write it down, Weasley." He turned his attention to Harry and added, "But these wild accusations against an employee of this Ministry simply cannot be tolerated! It is quite clear that the Dark wizard responsible for Miss Chang's abduction was neither Walden Macnair nor You-Know-Who but Sirius Black!"

"In case you've forgotten, Mr. Fudge," said Harry, in a tone of icy sarcasm that Severus Snape might have envied, "I've met Sirius Black, too. He doesn't speak with a thick Scottish brogue, and I've never heard of him using a battleaxe."

"Walden Macnair was here at the Ministry every day last week, and he arrived for work this morning just as usual! I hardly think--"

"That much is obvious," Harry snarled, finally losing his temper completely. Fudge went brick red and gobbled incoherently at him as he turned on his heel and stalked out the door.

Outside the conference room was a smaller chamber that appeared to be a waiting room, with a couch on the left, a pair of chairs to the right, a door opposite the one from the conference room and another door in the right-hand wall with a small placard indicating that it led to a washroom. Cho and Liu sat together on the couch, wrapped in each other's arms as Cho cried on her sister's shoulder. Hearing the door slam, she looked up. "Harry!"

"I got fed up, too," Harry said, dropping onto the couch beside her.

"I don't know how you could stand it as long as you did. Fudge is an idiot, and that Umbridge hag...! Where on Earth did she come from?"

"Under a rock, I expect," Harry deadpanned, hoping to cheer her up a bit.

It seemed to work, as she smiled at him through her tears. "I wish she'd crawl back under it then. 'These children's story...!' You'd think we were a couple of six-year-olds!" She wiped at her eyes irritably, which only served to make them redder. "I am so sick of crying," she muttered.

"There's a washroom right there," said Liu. "You could freshen up a bit, if you'd like."

"Good idea," said Cho, getting up from the couch. "Back in a moment." She disappeared into the washroom.

As soon as Cho was out of sight, Liu turned and gave Harry a long look of silent appraisal; he had the uncomfortable feeling that she was gazing into his soul. Finally, she spoke. "My sister really likes you."

"I like her a lot, too," Harry replied, warily.

Liu studied him for another moment before answering. "I'm glad to hear it. I don't want to see her hurt anymore."

"I didn't want her hurt at all. That bloody Macnair...."

"That's not what I was talking about," said Liu. "Look, let me make it clear. I don't want you to take this the wrong way, because you saved Cho's life and I'll always be grateful for that, but... if you break her heart, I'm going to hex you faster than you can say 'slimy Slytherins.'"

Harry gave a snort of laughter. Liu glared at him. "I mean it!"

"Liu," he said, sincerely, "if I ever break Cho's heart, I give you my solemn word I will stand still and let you hex me."

"I'll hold you to that," she said. Then she flashed him a mischievous grin exactly like her sister's. "From what Cho says about your reflexes, that's the only way I'd ever manage it."

Before Harry could reply, Cho returned from the washroom. She had washed her face, and looked much more composed than before. Rejoining Harry and Liu on the couch, she took in their expressions, then said to Liu, "You haven't been trying to intimidate him, have you?"

Liu laughed. "Hey, I was a Gryffindor myself, remember? I know better than to try and intimidate one."

"Then what were all those dire threats about?" Harry asked, smiling slyly.

"No threats, just promises," said Liu.

Cho turned to Harry. "My sister's wonderful, but she can be just a bit overprotective sometimes."

"Me, overprotective? I'm letting you two stay at the inn together, aren't I?"

"Only because it's safer than home at the moment, and only with you and Sirius as chaperones."

"Fair point, sis," Liu agreed. "But all the same, Mum will probably pitch a fit when she finds out."

"I seem to recall covering for you on a few things that would have made her pitch an even bigger one," Cho commented.

"Is this blackmail I'm hearing?"

"Hmmm, let's just call it insurance, shall we?"

Harry listened to the affectionate banter between the two sisters with growing amusement, but also with a trace of wistfulness. He wished he could have had an older brother or sister like Liu when he was growing up, instead of being stuck with his obese, obnoxious, ignorant oaf of a cousin whose major purpose in life seemed to be making Harry miserable.

A few minutes later the conference room door opened again. Cornelius Fudge passed through the waiting room and out into the hall with barely a glance at Harry and the Chang sisters, with Percy following close behind him like a faithful dog. Dolores Umbridge, however, stopped for a moment, giving Harry a most unpleasant smile. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Potter," she simpered. "I feel certain I shall see you again quite soon."

Harry bared his teeth at her in a fair imitation of Snape's contemptuous snarl. "Not if I see you first."

Cho and Liu giggled as Umbridge's smile faded. "That will be as may be," she replied. "Goodbye, Mr. Potter." She stumped out the door after Fudge and Percy.

A moment later, Bill, Lupin, and Dumbledore emerged from the conference room. Without a word, Dumbledore held up the box of Chocolate Frogs. Harry, Cho, and Liu stood up and placed their hands on it, as Lupin and Bill did likewise, and Dumbledore once again uttered the command, "Portus!"

As she had when they arrived at the Ministry, Cho caught hold of Harry's arm as they landed. This time, it occurred to him that perhaps she didn't really need the support, and simply wanted the excuse to touch him. The idea created a stir among the somnolent butterflies that still resided in his stomach whenever he was anywhere near her.

"How did it go?" asked Sirius, looking up from the Daily Prophet crossword puzzle he'd been using to pass the time.

Dumbledore sighed and sank into one of the armchairs. "Not nearly as badly as I had feared it might, but not as well as I had hoped. Were it not for the deaths of Spode and Steggles, I would have preferred not to involve the Ministry at all, but unfortunately, corpses require explanations. We achieved my most important goal - ensuring that no charges would be leveled against any of you - and Fudge has also agreed to investigate Terence Higgs and the dementors. However, he still refuses to consider the possibility that Lord Voldemort has returned, or that Macnair is one of his Death Eaters."

"Macnair had better keep out of my way," said Liu. "Unless he wants to learn what healing spells do when you cast them in reverse."

"I would ask that you not resort to such violent measures," said Dumbledore. "Any of you. Assaulting or challenging Macnair would be exceedingly dangerous, and defeating him would probably get you thrown in Azkaban."

"I'll bet Moony and I could take him and get away clean," said Sirius. "And the Ministry already wants to put me back in Azkaban, so what have I got to lose?"

"This is not the time for the Order to engage in assassinations," said Dumbledore sharply. "The risk is too great. I fear it may come to that, and if it does you may make Macnair your first order of business, but for the present I must insist that you avoid all contact with him."

"All right," Sirius grudgingly agreed, "Just as long as he avoids all contact with us."

"Naturally," said Dumbledore. "I would never order you not to defend yourself, Sirius - as long as you use a less, shall we say, elastic definition of self-defense than you sometimes have in the past."

Sirius shot Lupin a sidelong smile. "Why Moony, whatever can he mean?"

"Well, Padfoot old friend," replied Lupin, playing along, "I think he's suggesting that one or two of your run-ins with Snape when we were in school might have stretched the meaning of self-defense just a bit."

"You know he would have hexed me if he'd spotted me first," said Sirius.

"You two were at school with Snape?" asked Liu, looking interested. "What was he like back then?"

"The same greasy git he is now, only younger," replied Sirius.

"It's hard to imagine him as a student," Cho observed.

"Believe me," said Lupin, "it would have been even harder for us to imagine him as a professor. But then, I never imagined myself as one, either, so you never know."

"You were a much better one that Snape," said Cho firmly.

"Thank you, Miss Chang." Lupin glanced at his watch. "Well, I'd best get back to headquarters. Are you coming, Bill?"

Bill Weasley had been silent since the meeting, standing a little apart from the others and apparently lost in his own thoughts; Harry suspected that Percy's behavior had bothered him more than he was letting on. Hearing his name, he came out of his reverie with a start. "What? Oh yes, it is getting on, isn't it?"

"Yes," said Dumbledore, rising from his chair, "and we have work to do."

Goodbyes, handshakes, and hugs were exchanged, and Bill, Lupin, and Dumbledore Disapparated. "So," said Sirius, after they had gone, "how would you three like to give me a hand with my hippogriff?"

"I'd love to," said Cho. "He's the only one of my rescue party I haven't had a chance to thank yet."

They trooped out to the stable, where Harry, Cho and Liu spent an enjoyable half-hour brushing Buckbeak's lustrous gray coat, while Sirius fed him a sack of rats he and Lupin, in their respective canine forms, had caught in the stable the night before. "Better you than me," he muttered, as the hippogriff gulped down the last of the rodents.

After tending to Buckbeak, they returned to the common room. Sirius and Liu sat together near the fireplace, as Liu was curious to hear the full story of Sirius's escape from the supposedly inescapable Azkaban fortress. Harry knew the story by heart, and Cho had just heard it that morning; they were casting about for some other diversion when Harry remembered Hermione's birthday gift.

"Do you play chess?" he asked.

"A little," Cho replied.

Harry retrieved the chessboard from his trunk and set it up on one of the tables. Harry won the toss to determine who would play white, and they were off. He found it mildly disconcerting at first that his king shared Dumbledore's voice as well as his likeness, but soon forgot about it as the game developed. Over years of playing against Ron, who had a natural talent for chess, Harry had gotten fairly good at it, but he soon realized that he was no match for Cho Chang. She always seemed to be thinking at least two steps ahead of him, anticipating his moves, constraining his options, driving the game to an inevitable conclusion - and doing it all so elegantly that he didn't even mind losing. Finally, she said, "Checkmate," smiling sweetly at him across the board.

Harry kicked back in his chair and laughed. "And you said you only play a little!"

Cho shrugged. "I hold my own, I guess."

"Holds her own," snorted Liu. "Semi-finalist in Ravenclaw's little in-House tourney last year..."

"It was just a lark, nothing major..."

"...and just missed the finals of the British Youth Chess Association when she was ten."

"Pardon me, Liu, but don't you have your own conversation to attend to?"

"I'll make you a deal, little sister: you drop the false modesty, and I'll stop interrupting."

"I've got a better one: you stop interrupting, and I won't hit you with a Silencing Charm." Her light tone belied the threat, but Liu took the hint anyway, turning her attention back to Sirius.

"You know," said Harry thoughtfully, "the way you play chess is a lot like the way you play Quidditch."

"How so?"

"Remember our match, how you kept blocking me? It felt like you were controlling my every move. This was the same way."

"Except this time you couldn't outrun me with your Firebolt," she said. "I hope you don't mind," she added, a trifle anxiously.

Harry shook his head. "If I minded losing at chess, I could never have stayed friends with Ron so long. He wipes the board with me about nineteen times out of twenty." He grinned. "Just don't expect to win so easily the next time we're chasing the Snitch."

Cho sat up straight and said with mock severity, "I assure you, Mr. Harry Potter, that if I win our next Quidditch match easily, I shall be very disappointed."

"Not half as disappointed as my teammates, I'll bet. But you know, right now I don't think I care that much which of us wins our next match. I'll be happy either way, as long as we both play our best... and we both beat Malfoy this year."

"Amen to that!" Cho agreed.

"I think that calls for a toast," said Sirius, coming up behind Harry. "Dobby?" he called.

The elf Apparated next to their table. "What can Dobby get for you, sir?"

"A bottle of wine, please," Sirius replied. "And four glasses."

"Right away, sir!" Dobby agreed, popping back into the kitchen.

When he returned with the wine, Sirius poured a small amount into each glass and handed them around. Then he raised his and said, "To matches well-played and Malfoy's defeat."

Harry took a cautious sip. He had rarely tasted wine - just the occasional sip from a not-quite-empty glass, more for curiosity's sake than anything else, while cleaning up after one of the Dursleys' dinner parties. This wine was sweeter than any he could remember, and had a distinctly different scent.

"Did you bring this with you?" asked Cho, addressing her sister.

"Yes, I thought a little taste of home would be nice while we're stuck up here," Liu replied. "Plum wine," she added, in response to Harry's quizzical look.

"It's very good," he said.

"I'm glad you like it," she replied. "Especially since our parents will probably want to invite you over to dinner at some point to thank you for what you did; they always serve it when we have guests."

Harry's butterflies woke up abruptly and began what felt like a spirited game of Quidditch. Meeting Cho's sister was one thing; dining formally with her parents was another matter entirely. Fortunately, Sirius came to his rescue before he had to say anything. "I'm not sure that would be a good idea," he told Liu. "For the time being, it's important for Harry to stay where the Death Eaters can't reach him. Any dinner party he attends in the near future might attract some very unpleasant uninvited guests."

"I wouldn't want to cause your family any more trouble," Harry agreed.

"Stop that," said Cho. "You're not to blame for what happened to me any more than for what happened last month. All you did was rescue me, so stop acting as though you're guilty of something."

Harry smiled sheepishly. "All right, if you insist."

"That's better. Now," she added, raising her glass, "I have another toast: to heroes."

Sirius and Liu lifted their glasses in affirmation; Harry, blushing furiously, did likewise.

As they set down their glasses, Dobby reappeared to announce that dinner was ready - a four-course Chinese banquet he had prepared in honor of the Chang sisters. While they ate, Liu and Sirius shared tales of their school days - impressions of professors, memorable Quidditch matches, and the pranks that had earned Sirius and his friends their reputation as the biggest troublemakers of their era. As the conversation wore on, though, the humor of Sirius's reminiscences faded. He spoke of the first war against Voldemort, and the comrades who had not survived it. At the end of the meal, he proposed a final toast: "To absent friends, in memory still bright."

Harry noticed that Cho, having drained her glass, was staring into it like Professor Trelawney reading tea leaves; he saw tears forming at the corners of her eyes. Cedric, Harry thought dismally. She's thinking about him again....

As soon as Dobby had spirited away the dirty dishes, Sirius looked pointedly at Liu: "Our turn at the chessboard, I think."

She quickly agreed, leaving Harry and Cho at the dinner table.

"Erm, Cho," Harry began nervously, "I suppose you were thinking about Cedric just now...."

She nodded, looking down at the tablecloth. "Can't help thinking about the past, I guess." Then she reached for Harry's hand. He looked up; she was smiling now. "And I can't help thinking about the future, either." She took a deep breath. "So, tell me about yourself."

"I thought everyone already knew about all that."

"We all know the legend; I want to know you."

Harry felt his cheeks start to burn. "Well, all right, but let's go sit over there...." He gestured at the two big armchairs where he had had his interview with Dumbledore the previous evening, across the room from where Sirius and Liu were already deeply engrossed in their game.

Dobby brought them another pot of Tian Shan green tea, and Harry gradually relaxed. He reflected that as recently as yesterday morning he would never have imagined how easy it would be to talk to Cho. She asked how he had learned he was a wizard, so he told her about the early manifestations of his magic - the haircut that had grown back out in a single night, his accidental leap onto the school roof while fleeing Dudley and his gang, the boa constrictor he had inadvertently let out of its cage at the zoo - about the Dursleys' desperate effort to prevent him receiving his first Hogwarts letter, and about his first meeting with Rubeus Hagrid.

Harry, in turn, asked Cho how long she had wanted to be a Seeker. She told him of her lifelong fascination with flight - not only with broomsticks, but with Muggle aircraft. Growing up between the Muggle and wizarding worlds, she had been to almost as many air shows as Quidditch matches, and spent as many weekend hours in the Royal Air Force Museum as she had in Diagon Alley. "I always thought," she said, "that if I didn't turn out to be a witch, the next best thing to playing Quidditch would be to become a pilot."

"What kind of plane would you have flown?"

"I don't know. Something light and fast and agile, like a broomstick. What I really wanted was a Spitfire. I used to see them at some of the air shows, and I think they're the most beautiful planes ever built. There aren't many left that can still fly, though."

"Dudley had a model Spitfire Uncle Vernon bought him for his birthday one year, but he never managed to put it together right. I've never seen a real one."

"Maybe we can go to the RAF Museum some time. I still go there at least once every summer holiday, just for old times' sake...." She trailed off, yawning. "I think it's about time for bed."

"Sounds like a good idea," Harry agreed. "Do you want me to stay with you again?"

"I think I'll be all right," Cho replied. "I wouldn't want to make you sleep in a chair two nights in a row. But it would be nice if you could take the room across the hall, and leave the door open a bit, just in case. I'd ask Liu, but she sleeps like a log; you could hold a Quidditch match in her bedroom without waking her up."

"Of course. I have to get my trunk out of Sirius's room anyway, "

After bidding good night to Liu and Sirius, and getting their acquiescence to the sleeping arrangements, Harry and Cho went up the stairs together. Pausing in the doorway to her room, Cho whispered, "You know, we never did finish that discussion we were having before lunch...."

"Discussion? Oh!" Harry suddenly remembered what Sirius had interrupted earlier that day.

"Shhh." She stepped up to him and put her arms around the back of his neck; his own arms seemed to move of their own accord, wrapping around her and pulling her closer.

The warmth of her body and the clean scent of her hair filled his senses, and all he could see was her eyes, two dark, clear pools of infinite depth. The first tentative brush of her lips against his set every nerve in his body humming like the strings of a harp. Cho moaned deep in her throat, her lips parting hungrily, and Harry quickly found himself matching her passion with his own. The kiss went on and on, lip against lip, tongue against tongue, bodies pressed together, warming them both with the heat of desires long denied.

At last they drew apart. Cho's face was flushed and she was breathing hard; Harry knew his own face must look similar. "That," he said shakily, "was incredible! Is it always like that?"

"Not always that intense," Cho replied, her voice equally shaky. "But sometimes intensity isn't what you want. It's always good, though. Thank you, Harry; you can't know how much I needed that."

"I think maybe I can guess. You're amazing, you know that?"

"You're amazing. And you've really never kissed a girl before?"

"I'm sure I'd remember."

"It must be native talent, then. Like your flying."

"Or maybe it was just a one-time thing - beginner's luck," Harry suggested.

"Let's find out." She moved into his arms again. The second kiss lasted longer than the first. When it ended, Cho said breathlessly, "Definitely talent."

Harry just nodded, not trusting himself to speak. After a moment, though, he said rather awkwardly, "Well, I guess we'd better... um...."

"Yeah," said Cho, reluctantly. "Well... good night, Harry."

"Good night, Cho. Wake me if you need anything, all right?"

"Thanks." She retreated into her room, leaving the door just slightly ajar. Harry went into the room across the hall, changed into pajamas, and crawled into bed, all the while replaying what had just happened over and over in his head. It took him a very long time to fall asleep.