Oh, boy oh boy oh boy! [squeefulness]

This chapter is rather transitional, and Cho even more one dimensional, but she should be coming into her own soon after…

Anyhoo, without further ado.

Disclaimer: Yah! No own HP! WOOHOO!

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Cho's stomach yowled suddenly. Her patient jumped.

"Mr. North!" she admonished, pretending to have not heard a thing. "I'm trying to administer your shot here. Just hold your arm out straight. You won't feel a thing, I assure you." (Cho had become quite used to lying by now).

"Did you hear that?!" the patient demanded, eyeing her warily. "That sounded like a wild polecat."

"Nonsense," Cho replied, tipping her glasses severely at him. "Must be the air conditioning," she said crisply as her stomach produced another moan. Before the patient could say another word, she jabbed the syringe in and mercilessly emptied all its contents into the man's bloodstream.

Sighing unhappily, Cho looked inside her wallet. All there was were a few coins and a dizzy fly.

"Why, Cho, what's wrong?" Dr. Morris blinked at her in the lounge, peering over a newspaper.

"Nothing, just resigning myself to a nice, healthy lunch of carrot sticks," Cho managed bravely, brandishing a plastic baggy she'd filled with the root. 'Playing the pity factor...'

"Oh, that's wonderful for you. Healthy eating is one of the most important things an individual can do for themselves, you know. Just think, if you hadn't blown your last months' paycheck [and half of this months' too, might I add, you would be eating something horribly strenuous on your metabolism and digestive systems. Good for you, old girl."

Cho glared at the oblivious man murderously.

"You've got donuts."

"Hmm?" he looked at his plate of sweets. "Oh, yes. Marjory sent them up earlier. Made them this morning. I suppose I might love her after all." He took a big bite out of a ring and smiled smugly at his younger colleague, who stomped out of the room, chomping viciously at her legumes.

It had rained earlier, and looked to rain again, from the thick gray clouds over head. She shivered and pulled her lab coat closer around her multi-layered self and ground her teeth. She had called Ren an hour ago to drop off her umbrella, and the lazy slacker was still not here. She didn't even know what he did for a living. He could be an Bulgarian spy for all she knew.

Her watch read five to two. She would have to go back to work soon. Sulking, she tossed the rest of her meager lunch into the bin and stamped her feet, trying to warm herself up. She looked up as a cab turned into the parking lot, and began walking towards it in relief. The door opened, and Harry Potter stumbled out clumsily, clutching a red, plaid umbrella and a plastic bag.

"Harry! Hullo. What are you doing here?" she exclaimed, hurrying towards him. With a jerk, the man looked up and nearly fell over the curb.

"C-Cho!" his face turned pink. He looked at his hands, and then held out his wares to Cho awkwardly. “Your brother, er, asked me to drop this off for you.”

“Thanks, Harry,” Cho said wonderingly, and took the umbrella. “I’m sorry for the trouble. You didn’t have to come all the way.”

“It’s no problem!” Harry laughed nervously and held out the bag. “I brought some lunch for you too, that is, if you don’t mind.”

‘Lunch?’ the word processed in Cho’s mind. It triggered a nice chain reaction, in which, suddenly a bright smile effused over her features, and a sweet, singing voice in her head encouraged her to ravish Harry right then and there. She did not, but she did take his arm suddenly and drag him into the lounge kitchen.

They had a stilted conversation. Neither minded much. Cho was enjoying the food (free! Free French! Free of charge!) and Harry was too busy turning red every time he thought of her hands clutching his sleeve.

Finally, sighing with contentment, Cho gave Harry a winning smile and pushed away the empty Tupperware and took a cookie (fresh baked gingersnaps).

“You know, I never pictured you as a cook, Harry. An Auror, maybe, or even a professor, but not a cook,” she confessed.

“Didn’t you?” Harry looked surprised, and actually spoke a coherent sentence. “I used to make killer s’mores back in my school days, you know.”

“What’s that?” Cho asked, mystified.

“These horrible, sugary, fattening snacks. Graham crackers, marshmallows, chocolate, and microwaved. It was awful unhealthy, but so good,” he told her, smiling crookedly. “I used to make them for my cousin Dudley to shut up, and then for us Gryffs in the common room using the fireplace.”

Cho nearly salivated.

“So,” she said primly, wiping away the spit. “You used to make myocardial-infarction inducing snacks for your dorm mates, and therefore decided to become a chef?”

Harry shrugged sheepishly. “I used to make breakfast and dinner too, at home. And well, Malfoy went off to cooking school, so I figured I might as well too.”

“What has Malfoy got anything to do with it?”

For a moment, Harry looked contemplative. “I don’t know. Habit, I guess. I’m so used to trying to be better than him. It’s bad of me, but I’m afraid I took advantage of his troubles to try and one-up him.”

“Troubles? You mean…The Trial?”

“That’s right,” Harry lowered his voice, and they both leaned forward, even though there was no one else in the room, much less Draco.

“You know how bad it was then. It was really him against everyone else. Of course, we tried our best to, you know, insulate him, but no one believed his case, and he didn’t do anything himself to disprove their theories. And when it was all over, he just didn’t care anymore. Ron actually called him a ‘damn, bloody ferret’, and you know what he did?”

Cho shook her head, eyes wide.

Harry, looking very solemn, said, “He only glanced at him, and kept right on walking.”

Gasping with shock, Cho shook her head. “No! Draco- the Malfoy I knew would never have let that go!”

“Exactly,” Harry said with grim satisfaction. “Afterwards, he was a changed man.”

“But obviously, he’s gone somewhat back to normal, hasn’t he?” Cho asked, brows furrowed.

“Yes, but that’s…” Harry stopped and looked quiet. “It was because of-of Ginny Weasley, you know.”

“Little, redheaded, mousy girl? With the possessive, incorporeal boyfriend?”

“We were both in love with her, you know,” Harry confided, and a glazed look came over his eyes. It was… two years ago now. I don’t know what she did, but it felt like, she was our saving grace, you know?”

Cho nodded, fascinated at this chance of being shrinky-dink to the Harry Potter.

“We were both war-torn men. He was the son of two prominent Death Eaters that fell to disastrous circumstances, and I was the Boy Who Lived and all, with you know, the whole responsibility thing. We were just trying to rebuild our lives, do you understand?” He looked at Cho with a perfectly serious expression. “And it was just unfortunate that we both chose the same person to do it for us. Well, all I can say is, we should have learned to share.”

Cho just stared at him.

“Share a person?”

“Oh, er, not that way,” Harry assured her quickly. “Just, maybe if we hadn’t vied so hard… it would have been a lot- a lot less painful…for both of us, when we lost her.”

With that cold, sinking feeling in her stomach, Cho gasped quietly, and covered her mouth.

“Oh, God, that’s horrible. I’m so sorry.”

Harry smiled bravely, and shook his head, tears sparkling in his eyes. “Don’t be. It couldn’t have ended any other way.”

Feeling awful, Cho stood up, and poured him another cup of lukewarm tea.

“Thank you for telling me this, Harry,” she said. “It really means a lot.”

Turning tomato, Harry accepted the tea, and mumbled thanks.

Harry left soon after, and Cho went on her rounds with only half a mind. She remembered Ginny Weasley, a small, sprightly girl with long, red hair and a friendly smile. She had been in fifth year when Cho had graduated, and had baked cookies for all of the graduating class. They were gingersnaps, Cho recalled, and wondered if Harry had taught her to bake them, or was it the other way around?

No wonder the two of them are at such a head, Cho thought, absentmindedly forcing a pill down Mr. Randolph’s crotchety throat. And no wonder Malfoy turned so bitter. What awful luck.

Her shift ended, and she left the hospital with her bright red umbrella over her head.

Ren was in the kitchen when she got home.

“Hey Cho. What do you want for dinner? I picked up some tomatoes and onions at the store earlier. Would you rather have spaghetti or fried rice? Of course, for the fried rice, I’ll have to run out and buy the rice, but-”

“Uhm…” Cho looked at her brother thoughtfully. “Actually Ren, I was going to run down to the Tombe de Cheval for some dinner. Fancy coming along?”

Ren stared at her and then made a face. “Sister, darling, remember your bill? That restaurant is bad luck! If you’ll take my advice, I’d say we two have a nice, quiet dinner in front of the TV, and watch ‘Lives of Our Days’”

Cho rolled her eyes and grabbed her bag again. “Goodbye Ren!”

“But Cho! Monica just found out she was pregnant by Karl, who just came out of the closet and is now dancing the limbo with his bisexual lover Frankie who’s actually a CIA agent and married to the Martian in Roswell, in Vegas! Can’t you stand the drama?! Cho!”

The walk to the café wasn’t very far, and though it rained, Cho made it to the café without getting too wet.

“Hello, Warrington,” she greeted amicably when the tall man opened to door for her.

“Chang,” he replied, equally polite. “Su! Cho Chang’s here to see you!”

“Send her back out!” a voice roared from the kitchen, followed by a resounding smack.

Su came out a moment later, smiling sweetly at the diners, and hurriedly led Cho to a table.

“What do you want, Chang? Another binge fest?” the same voice drawled.

“Keep at your work, fry-cook!” Cho called back dryly. Su grinned.

“How was your day?”

“Harry came to see me,” Cho replied. “He brought me gingersnaps for lunch.”

“Is that so? How absolutely fascinating. Have you any food poisoning yet?” Here, Su swiveled her head and glared at Draco, who was peeking out suspiciously from the doorway. “You’re giving me the creeps, dear. Go back to work”

Turning back to her friend, Su rubbed her forehead and sighed.

“He’s been like this all day. It’s getting on my nerves, truly,” she growled. Castor ambled by and patted her head consolingly. Su glared murderously at him.

“What’s wrong?” Cho asked, setting her purse aside. Su shook her head.

“It’s just a bad day, nothing else. He’ll be right back to the normal…jackass tomorrow. Just bear with the rest of us today,” Su whispered. Orla stumbled to their table wearily and nodded fervently.

“Draco says he’s done,” she told Su. Nodding, the shorter woman stood up.

“Be right back, Cho. We’re closing up early today. No, don’t move. Orla, stay with her, yeah?”

Orla collapsed gratefully into the empty seat and her head met the table surface with a resounding bang.

“…Orla?” Cho asked tentatively.

“Mrrrfwraarrmmmffphhrragh.”

Cho sat back. “I see. And uh, what language was that in?”

Orla lifted her head up, and Cho reached over sympathetically to brush the usually immaculate black hair out of her face.

“He’s a slave driver, I tell you. A bloody wanker.”

“What’s so special about today?” Cho asked, bemused. Orla closed her eyes.

“I don’t know. Some great, yearly thing these lunatics have. Potter and MacDonald are supposed to be dropping by too.”

Castor dropped a load of dirt dishes next to Orla’s face.

“It’s the only day in the year that Potter and Malfoy will even sit civilly together in the same room. I say, don’t squander it,” he informed Orla, and then shooing her back into the kitchen.

“Why not any other day?” Mystified, Cho got up and followed Warrington around the café.

“Didn’t Potter tell you?” he asked, barely looking over his shoulder as he wished two diners a pleasant evening. “It’s a Weasley thing.”

“Oh.” Cho suddenly saw the pieces fall into place. The gingersnaps, the early closing, the impossible truce…

“How awful,” Cho said, nervously picking up her purse. “Maybe I should…leave then, let you guys eat in peace…”

“Leaving already? You don’t trust my cooking, Chang?” Draco asked, leaning against the kitchen door, arms crossed.

“Of course…I do…sort of,” Ch protested. “I just thought I shouldn’t intrude.”

“Haven’t you done that already?” he snorted, pulling off his hat and tossing it on the back counter. Su attempted to stomp on his foot, but he’d already turned away.

“You might as well stay. It’s not like anything will be better if you leave anyways.”

Cho colored a little, but didn’t reply. She saw Castor shrug and pull her chair back out for her.

“Potter’s here,” he announced, and smirking at Draco’s rude answer, crossed to the door to let Harry and Natalie in.

“Hey Warrington, Su!” Natalie entered first, carting a huge basket of cookies. Harry followed with a cake.

“Chang! Fancy seeing you here!” the blonde greeted. Cho smiled and gave a small wave. Harry dropped his box.

“Easy there,” Castor saved the pastry from its doom and courteously relieved Natalie of her basket.

“Hey, Harry,” Cho smiled softly at him. “I’m sorry to intrude on your gathering.”

“No-no problem! None at all!” Harry said, turning red. Su, noticing this exchange, grinned and elbowed Draco, who scowled darkly at her.

“Well!” Castor clapped his hands briskly and beckoned them all to the table. “We might as well have our opening toast right now among friends, hm?”

After everyone had seated and was appropriately holding aloft red wine, Castor stood and began in a grave voice.

“For the past five years of Draco and Harry’s life, today has always been officially the worst and most awful day of both their sorry young lives. Today is the anniversary that their mutual love, young Virginia Weasley, left them, stolen away to heights they themselves shall never attain.”

There were murmurs of pity, Cho gave Harry an understanding look, but gave Su a strange look when she thought she heard a choked giggle. Before she could say anything, however Castor was already continuing.

“A toast!” he said dramatically. “To the broken-hearted men of the Café Chevals!”

“Aye!” everyone agreed heartily. Bewildered, Cho quickly followed their examples. Wasn’t this supposed to be the anniversary of Ginny’s untimely and tragic death? Maybe they used humor to lighten up the atmosphere. Oh, what an awful day it must be for Harry and Draco, she thought compassionately, giving Harry another look.

Draco frowned.

“Chang, what is up with you today?”

Cho jumped.

“Nothing! Nothing at all,” she replied.

“Yes there is. You’ve been making cow-eyes at Potter the whole day now.”

“I do not make cow eyes!” Cho said, affronted.

“Then will you stop it with all that eye-kissy! It’s turning my stomach,” Draco ordered, leveling a disdainful glare at her.

“I was only trying to be reassuring!” Cho defended.

“Save it, it’s none of your business!”

“It may not be, but I do like to be comforting when I can!”

“You’re about as comforting as a cabbage!”

“Don’t you dare compare me to a-a vegetable, Draco Malfoy! And how I comfort Harry in this awful time is none of your business!”

Cho stopped mid-rant, and cocked her head to one side.

“…That didn’t sound right, did it?” she asked Orla, who shook her head.

“No, not at all, I’m afraid,” Su answered.

“Now I’m curious,” Natalie said, leaning forward. “Chang, do tell!”

Massaging her forehead, Cho wondered what the hell was wrong with these people. Before the snickers died down, however, there was a knock on the door. It opened a moment later, and a small, three year old boy ran into the café, shrieking loudly and unrestrained.

“ ‘CoCo!” he shrilled, running awkwardly towards Draco, who immediately swooped him into his arms.

“Hello there, Roger. Have you been good?” he asked amiably. Cho stared.

“Coco?”

Draco ignored her and handed the boy to Harry. “You might as well come in, Zabini. You’re boy’s already inside.”

There was a scuffle, and a moment later, a cheerful looking redhead peeped her head in and waved.

“Hi everyone! Sorry we’re late. Sara had a bit of a wee wee in the car.”

Cho coughed in surprise as the woman entered the café with a huge bag of mommy things. A man followed behind her, holding a baby carrier. A little pink face glared warily from the inside.

The couple was greeted with welcoming shouts and hugs, while Roger got in everyone’s way by diving under the tables and around everyone’s legs. Finally, the man grabbed the boy and held onto him grimly.

“Is this Cho Chang?” the woman asked, turning to the doctor. Cho smiled uncertainly.

“My gosh, it’s good to see you!” Cho was embraced with sudden enthusiasm.

“I’m Ginny Weasley! Remember?” Ginny Weasley smiled dazzlingly at her.

While the information processed itself in her head, Cho continued to smile vaguely at the woman.

When the bell finally went ding!, she blinked, and in a calm, mildly delighted way, replied eloquently:

“Oh!”

“It’s her and Blaise’s wedding anniversary,” Natalie explained, and Cho turned her vague, mildly delighted smile to her.

“Is it?”

“They celebrate with us every year,” Castor put in. Cho gave him her mild smile too.

“How lovely.”

“As you can see, it’s really the most awful day for both these losers,” Su guffawed, clapping a sour looking Harry and Draco on the back. “They’re reminded every year that the ex-girlfriend got sick of both of them and out of the blue! Married the best friend. Zabini, you sly dog, you.” She wagged a finger at Blaise, who chuckled.

Cho smiled so vaguely she thought her face would crack.

“You people are too cruel,” she agreed placidly.

“Chang? You all right?” Draco suddenly asked her. Cho nodded and with a distant expression, slowly turned around.

“I think…I’m going to use the loo a moment. Excuse me, please…”

As the door clicked shut behind her, Cho placed her hands firmly against the far wall, and thunked her head hard against the wall.

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Oh, goody! Chapter ten! Thanks to those who reviewed! Hope you liked this chapter! I liked the first half better than the second! I don’t know why you’d care! But anyways, thanks!