Second Door to the Right

Chapter One: The Third Task Twisted

Cedric.

The name resonated in her mind as she sat on the Hogwarts Express.

Cedric.

How she missed the kind look of his gray eyes, his endless generosity, the way his hands ran threw her thick, dark hair when they were alone, kissing, his mouth over her own, how it always seemed to surprise her, albeit pleasantly.

Cedric.

And he was gone.

Cho Chang took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, trying to hold back the tears that had always been lurking beneath the surface since that day. The day of the third task of the Triwizard Tournament...

She had been sitting in the stands with her many friends, cheering on both Hogwarts champions, the rather kind but odd Harry Potter and her own darling Cedric. Before entering the towering maze, Cedric had looked up at her, smiled and waved. How was she to know that would his last gesture to her, the last she would ever see of his loving face, his beaming smile? How was she to know that, hours later, when the Quidditch stadium was in an uproar Harry would appear out of nowhere, clutching the Triwizard Cup and Cedric's body?

Cedric's immobile body.

She had no memory of that day from there on.

Celeste, her best friend since their first year, told her later that she had passed out and was taken to the hospital wing. After awakening, it was then the fact that Cedric had died truly rushed over her, a merciless wave of cold, grief, and angst. She had snippets of being in the hospital wing, tears dripping onto those immaculate white bed sheets, her chest seizing as she tried to breathe amidst the weeping.

Cedric, she thought, not bothering to stop the tears from flowing over the dam her eyes had constructed over the summer, why did you have to leave me? Everything was so perfect until you -

Cho didn't have the strength to finish her thought as a new wave of tears poured out, staining her newly bought robes. She slid to the floor, sobbing, her fists pounding on the soft seat of the train, venting the pent-up anguish that had filled her for the past summer. As her parents always thought crying was a sign of weakness, Cho had forced herself to save the tears until the night, when she was alone. Even then she could not scream out in sorrow.

"Cedric, come back," she sniffed amidst her tears. "Please, come back. You haven't any idea how much I miss you."

"Oh, Cho, not again," a voice said from the compartment door, slightly on the exasperated side.

Cho looked up and saw Celeste leaning in the doorframe.

The crying suddenly left as if someone had used a Vanishing Spell. Anger filled her. Standing up with her hands balled into fists, she faced her best friend.

"Celeste, of all people, I would think you would at least understand!" Cho yelled. "I told you everything, didn't I?"

At those words, the expression of Celeste's face softened a bit, and she walked over to Cho and motioned for her to sit down.

"Yeah, you did tell me everything. I didn't mean to hurt you or anything, but he's -" she paused, picking out her words carefully, " - he's not here anymore, and crying isn't going to bring him back, no matter how much you try. I mean, you can honor his memory and everything, but hell, there's still life."

She looked apprehensively at Cho, hoping her words wouldn't bring on another outburst of tears. As if it were a book, Celeste's mind flipped to the day when she received an abnormally long letter from Cho. The letter had shocked her very much, and Celeste had felt the need to reread the letter again and again. She still could recall part of it...

I know you don't want to talk to me because the only thing I'll talk about is Cedric, but could you just read this? Normally, I wouldn't be this weepy. Even if a boyfriend of mine had died, true, I'd be horrified, but not like the way I am now. You see, Cedric made me feel like I belonged somewhere. At Hogwarts, my face often hurts after smiling unwillingly. You've known me for a long time, and you know I'm not really that vivacious. I act like I have the perfect, loving family, but I'm completely estranged from my parents. They've never given me a home. You see, I was expected to be a boy, but I wasn't, and my parents are still disappointed. Whenever they look at me, it's with a wistful and pitying expression. I can't stand it! "Get over it!" I want to yell. And that's why I act so sociable at Hogwarts, because I'm trying to compensate for lost attention at home. Then Cedric came. He made me feel like I was worth something, and when he died, that warm feeling died with him. I don't just miss him alone. That would be selfish because he made such an impact on other people's lives, I'm sure. I miss the belonging...

Sighing, Celeste raised an eyebrow, and Cho made a noise that sounded like laugh caught within a sob.

"Guess you right then," Cho shrugged, "but I'll never feel - what's a good word? - complete without knowing something."

"What?"

"Well, I still don't know what really happened to Cedric. All I know is what Dumbledore told us last year, that Cedric was murdered by You-Know-Who."

"Do you really believe him?" Celeste asked in an unsure voice.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do," came the harsh reply. "The Ministry is a pile of sodding rubbish. I cancelled my subscription for The Daily Prophet. Harry's not deranged or a liar, and Cedric did not just 'die of his own accord,' as the paper put it."

"So, anyway, you just want to know 'what really happened' to him?" Celeste said, hastening to change the subject. Any subject is more enjoyable than Cedric, she thought, especially when Cho's in mourning.

"Of course!"

"Well, Cho, there's only one person on this train who really knows what happened...I suggest you see him."

* * *

Harry was sitting on the floor of his compartment, playing Exploding Snap with his best friends, Ron and Hermione. Despite the events of the past school year - Cedric's death, the rebirth of Lord Voldemort, and the Ministry of Magic's stubborn refusal to admit he had returned, to name a few - he had never been better. This is the greatest, he though contentedly. I just wanna get back to school and away from the Dursleys.

Harry cringed every time he thought about his past summer. Ever since Voldemort came back, he had been examining every newspaper - including the Muggle publications (Harry was beyond sure they would be targeted by the Death Eaters, along with wizards) - for any news on the Dark Lord. But, living with the Dursleys, he had no Muggle money with which to buy even a newspaper. That left him with three options. He could a) steal money to buy newspapers, b) steal newspapers out of stands, people's bags, trash cans, etc., or c) be left in oblivion. Harry decided it would be safest to nick papers out of the neighborhood dump. Sadly, on his very first attempt, he was caught by the police, and Uncle Vernon had to reiterate to them, "Sorry, my nephew. He goes to St. Brutus's so he really hasn't much of an idea as to what he's doing." Harry spent the rest of the summer in his room.

"Harry, it's your turn," Ron said through a mouth full of Fizzing Whizbees, knocking him out of his thoughts.

Just as he was about to go, there was a knock on the compartment door.

"Best to get your wand out," Hermione muttered. "It might be Malfoy again. I'm sure you two don't want to be jinxed before you can even get to school."

Malfoy and his lackeys had already paid a little visit to their compartment. He had, if possible, grown even more condescending, perhaps due to the return of Voldemort...

"So, Potty, what brave act are you going to do this year?" he had said in his signature lazy drawl. "Going to save all the Mudbloods? Or are you going to be the first to fancy that beaver over there?" Malfoy gestured towards Hermione, whose face was red enough to make the sunset jealous.

"Look, you leave her alone, Malfoy, you piece of shit," Harry retorted. Though many people infuriated him - Snape, who taught Potions, for example - nothing made his blood boil more than hearing Hermione insulted for being Muggle-born. And no one insulted her more than spoiled, pampered Draco Malfoy.

He plunged his hand into his pocket, digging furiously for his wand. In the meantime, he was thinking of the best curse to use on Malfoy. However, before Harry could even consider using the Jelly-Legs Jinx, Ron was already on the floor, wrestling with Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle were moving towards him, preparing to create the first official Weasley pancake. Harry quickly caught Hermione's eye, and mouthed, "Levitation." She nodded, clearly understanding what he was going to do.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

Crabbe and Goyle floated into the air like balloons, obviously extremely confused. ("You'd think they'd know a Levitation Charm by now!" Hermione whispered.) Harry and Hermione flicked their wands to the left, and Malfoy's henchmen sailed through the hall, landing in a crumpled heap of robes, arms, and legs.

"Uh, where are we?" Goyle mumbled stupidly, trying to move Crabbe off his leg.

Seeing they had successfully averted a collision between the two largest (in length, width, and mass) students in their year and Ron, Harry dragged his friend away from Malfoy, but not before Ron could give Malfoy one last kick.

"Yeah, I hope you liked that!" Ron yelled sarcastically. "Now get your slimy ass out of the corridor so no one has to look at it!"

Harry watched as Malfoy scrambled away...

Thinking about that incident brought a slight smile to Harry's face, but he hoped he didn't have to do that again. Ron had a black eye and was currently massaging a bruise on his shin ("Little git," he muttered.). He didn't look like he wanted another fight. Hermione, on the other hand, was absorbed in her early birthday present, How to Successfully Prepare for the O.W.L., and Harry knew from experience she would be more than crabby if disturbed while reading. As for Harry himself? He knew he wouldn't be able to take on Malfoy and his gang single-handedly.

Hermione lay the book down as the three stood up and Harry opened the door. Immediately looking up for Crabbe and Goyle, who always towered about everyone else, you can imagine his surprise when he heard a voice that sent his heart to his throat.

"Hi, Harry."

Cho Chang was standing in front of him.

"Er, hi, Cho. How was your summer?" he stammered. Why do I have to look like such a fool in front of her, he thought angrily.

"Oh, I've seen better," she replied, smiling demurely. "But I was wondering: Could I talk to you for a moment?"

"Uh, why not?" Harry replied, moving aside to let her in.

"Alone?" Cho added hastily, eyeing Ron and Hermione. ("What's she up to?" Ron whispered, while Hermione merely shrugged.)

"Um, yeah, okay. I'm coming."

Harry led her out of the compartment and into the corridor. As he turned to face her with his stomach doing cartwheels, she said so quietly Harry had to lean in to hear (Would there be a chance her lips would just happen to brush past his face?), "Could we go somewhere, you know, more private?"

Without waiting for a response, she walked down the corridor to her own compartment. Celeste was no longer there, as Cho had already told her to keep an eye out, just in case anyone was going to intrude. By the time Cho had discreetly locked the door, Harry was already seated, and she sat down across from him. Determined not to let tears get in the way, she tried to be as frank as she possibly could.

"Harry, tell me how Cedric died."

Taken aback, Harry simply stared at her. People were always asking him about the circumstances surrounding Cedric's death, but never in such a straightforward fashion as Cho just did. He had never seen her eyes so hard nor her stare as glaring.

"Well, um, you know," he stuttered, "what Dumbledore said. Voldemort killed him."

Though she seemed stunned that Harry had said You-Know-Who's name, Cho remained relatively unperturbed. After a moment's pause, Harry said, "You do believe him, don't you?"

"Of course, but there just has to be more than that..."

Cho bit her bottom lip, thinking of the huge revelation that lay ahead of her, almost within grasp. Her dear Cedric...dead...the tears started forming...blurring her vision...

"Oh, Harry, can't even you just tell me? I have a right to know how my boyfriend died! No one's ever going to tell me how he really died because no one knows how! Except for you, and here you are, and you refuse to tell me! What, do you think I'm going to faint because the information is just too shocking for me, poor me, to soak in?" she moaned, the crying starting and losing all composure.

"No, it's just -"

Cho suddenly stood up. So suddenly Harry felt like he was physically knocked over.

"JUST WHAT? HUH? JUST THAT I'M TOO YOUNG TO UNDERSTAND DEATH? IS THAT IT? YOU THINK I CAN'T HANDLE SUCH SENSITIVE ISSUES?"

"No! It's not that!"

"THEN WHY? IS IT TOO HARD JUST TO TELL ME SOMETHING?"

Cho was absolutely livid by now, but the tears were still splashing down her face.

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you. Just, sit down, calm down..."

Sniffling, she slowly returned to her seat. Attempting to pacify, she straightened back, but this action simply brought on more weeping. Cho covered her face with her hands, mumbling nebulously. Harry tried to understand what she was saying, but he caught only one word: Cedric.

Why does she have to always talk about Cedric, he though irritably. It's always "Oh, Cedric"-this and "Oh, Cedric"-that and why can't she just forget about him? Not like he was terribly bright or anything. He looked down at her tearful face, her expression imploring him. This disturbed Harry above all. She looks so sweet I just can't refuse to tell her. Plus, she's right. She does have a right to know. After all, he was her boyfriend, and I wasn't. Harry sighed and began.

"So, uh, would you like me to tell you?" Harry began cautiously, taking care not to offend her again.

"Yes, please," came the muffled reply.

"Well, you know the Triwizard Cup? It was really a Portkey, and it took us - me and Cedric - to this graveyard, where Voldemort was waiting."

He took a deep breath and thought about those terrible events. Cho obviously wanted Cedric to be portrayed as some sort of a hero, dying while fighting against Voldemort. He never got the chance, Harry thought contemptuously. He just died. Like that. But one more look at Cho's face told him that just wasn't the right thing to say.

"Well, Voldemort's servant, he needed to get blood from me for his master's rebirth. Cedric tried to save me. He tackled Wormtail - that's his servant - and tried to keep him away from me - " Harry tried to ignore Cho's face, now uncovered, which was beaming with admiration " - but then Voldemort killed him."

I cannot believe I just did that, Harry thought mournfully. I lied about something I shouldn't ever have lied about. If she ever finds out the truth, I might as well feed myself to Aragog.

"Is that what really happened, Harry?" Cho asked with no trace of the screaming person she was just a couple minutes ago.

"Yeah."

"Then why didn't anyone tell me this sooner?"

Before Harry could even open his mouth, Cho had jumped up, given him a hug (he was most shocked - and pleased - at this), and whispered, "Thank you!" before running to the door. As she was about to open it, Harry reached out for her arm.

"Wait a sec."

Cho looked up to him. "Yes?"

"Can you promise not to tell anyone what I've just told you?"

"Well, why not? If he had died like that, a hero, then why bother covering the truth?"

Harry ransacked through his memory for a moment. If that really was the truth, he thought carefully, no one would cover it. C'mon, why can't I think of a lie now?

"Well, uh, because Dumbledore doesn't want people worrying too much about Voldemort."

Damn. Why did I have to bring Dumbledore into this?

"Oh," Cho replied, crestfallen but not angry, to Harry's relief. "Alright then."

She unlocked the door, and as Celeste walked in, Harry slipped away before Cho could say any more.

"Hey, how did it go?"

Cho thought for a moment. She was overjoyed at finally knowing the truth, but Harry had acted a bit strange. No matter, she thought. I'm sure he acts like that all the time.

"It was absolutely wonderful, Celeste. I'm not in the dark anymore, and I finally know what happened!"

"That's great!" Celeste was very happy for Cho, indeed. "Could you tell me?"

"Well, Harry told me not to tell anyone," she said hesitantly. "I guess this sort of thing you just keep to yourself.

"Oh, okay then," Celeste shrugged, trying and failing not to look disappointed. "It's just I sort of wanted to know..."

"Very understandable," Cho replied, smiling.

* * *

Halfway down the corridor, he slowed his run down to a walk and rested against the wall. Banging his head, he muttered, "Why the bloody hell did I just do that?"

But he couldn't suppress a grin when he thought of Cho's body pressed into his.