swans can cry

—CHO CHANG

born in autumn with perseverance in her blood, the girl is swanlike.

there’s a certain cowardliness to her, a tendency to protect by keeping away.

she’s kind to the point of it being a weakness.  

Dear Cho,

It’s been a while, hasn’t it? It’s good to hear from you. I’m sorry it’s been so long.

At first, I wasn’t even sure if I should reply, if I’m being honest. I’m not great Times are tough and I can’t say I’ve got a lot to brag about these days.

Glad you heard I got sacked, though.

Can’t imagine anyone is jumping up and down at losing their job, but I suppose I’m coping. It’s their loss and I didn’t want to work somewhere that couldn’t be bothered to report true news and I am not at all bitter or upset.

Anyway, what friends of ours yours are saying this? I don’t see what’s controversial about calling out mad people who somehow bought their way into our highest positions of power. People who don’t see wizards like us as equals. I can’t sit back and play along, as if all of this is normal, because it’s not.

Why are you even reaching out? To reprimand me for speaking my mind? What else do you reckon I do with my time? Tune in to the show if you want. I’ve got nothing to hide. I hope I can say the same about you.

I’ll talk to you soon I hope. I really have missed you.

Your Old Friend,

Lee

Dear Lee,

Thank you for replying to my letter. I’m sorry to hear that times are tough for you. I really am. I know my words may not sound comforting and no one can really emote their intentions well through letters. I’m sorry if my previous letter seemed too direct.

It is their loss that they fired you. Everyone knows it’s their loss. And I’m not going to reveal the names of the people who have expressed concern, though it’s mostly Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs so that should help narrow down your hitlist. Please know that we agree with you. We stand by you. Your words are not wrong. You have the facts. But we’re concerned for you. We really are. What you talk about shouldn’t be controversial. At the same time, we also shouldn’t have an ex-convict on the Ministry’s top chair. We shouldn’t have to hear about people losing jobs for being Muggleborns or for expressing their opinions freely. But we live in a difficult time. 

I’m not writing to reprimand you. I’m not. I’m not your enemy. I’m not your boss who sacked you. I’m not one of them. I’m your friend. And I am writing because I don’t want you to be unsafe in the Wizarding World. The Wizarding World is already unsafe and hostile towards wizards like us. They’re going to double down on you for doing what you do and you know they have the power to retaliate. What I’m saying is, be safe and choose to stay safe. As safe as possible. Because if something happens to you, then who will take your spot? If something happens to you, how will your family and friends cope? 

This isn’t normal. It isn’t. And you are angry. I get it. I’m angry too. We’ve got a lot to be angry about. But we have to be careful. They have the upperhand. They have the government on their corner. We only have ourselves.

I know I’m a coward because I choose to move as far away from the line of fire as possible. I admit that. I’ve never been very brave. That’s what you Gryffindors do best. However, there’s bravery and then there’s recklessness. You know which one you are right now. You know you can take precautions to make sure no one can trace your words back to you but you’re not taking that precaution because fuck it right? 

I’ll be tuning in. Just please be safe.

Your Friend,

Something was wrong. Theo could gather that much through his social exhausted haze. Whatever it was that Cho needed to inform him of was bringing about a hesitance that didn’t mesh with his idea of the former Ravenclaw. At least she hadn’t fought against his insistence that be referred to by the shorten version of his first name. He was a pushover on a good day, allowing most anyone to run wild if it kept some kind of peace, but tonight his ability to bargain for his own comfort was lost in a see of expensive outfits and philanthropy. 

“Is it?” Relief was a good thing. Was Cho prone to overreactions? Whatever Miles hadn’t told him, something it seemed she was worried about not getting a chance to explain first, must not have been that bad. “It’s fine.” A ruined potion was nothing they all hadn’t done. Lately all the potions he tried to brew ended up a mess and he’d have to start over halfway through, mind not noting how many sprigs or stirs he had done and ending up in more of a Finnigan mess than a Nott creation. 

Out of commission. 

Out of commission was not a relief. His posture grew more rigid, straightened back and lengthened spine and mask of blankness even as his eyes widened, despite Cho’s presence already bringing out the cold politeness that was expected. He knew how his father would have handled this, starting off with not hiring Cho in the first place, but Theo had never liked wielding authority. Nodding, his eyes scanned the crowd for his fiancée as decisiveness was a trait he found in her in abundance and perhaps she had some to spare. 

“You’re not insured to brew.” Was that the biggest takeaway from this news? To Theodore, it was. If Cho or Miles or, heavens forbid, Draco had gotten hurt, it would mean more money from the apothecaries till being paid out than a bit of room repair would requite. “He shouldn’t be asking you to do that. I’ll speak to him. And please, don’t. He should be…You don’t have to worry about that.” A dock in pay for something that wasn’t her fault wouldn’t be happening. “Has he been, Miles– Bletchley. Has he been asking you to help him with brewing a lot?” If he hadn’t run away from responsibility and business, he might have known the answer. “You don’t have to do anything outside of your job description. I’m sorry if…I’m sorry this happened.”

Theodore Nott’s reaction surprised Cho. 

She had expected a reprimand, a strike one of sorts. The whole incident written up and kept on records. Harsh words being exchanged. Talks of loss and profit and slim margins. Being told to be more careful next time and to not mess up. Being asked to clean the brewing room faster. She had expected to be fired even. She hadn’t expected him to apologize for it. Especially since she hasn’t gotten to her own apology yet. She hadn’t expected him to go into the logistics of insurance and her job description. Now she feels even worse for blowing up the potion.

“No, please, don’t apologize!” she quickly cuts in, a little panicked by his reaction, “I should be the one apologizing.” She takes a deep breath. “This isn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have followed Bletchley’s instructions-” Despite him being the manager, Cho really should’ve been more insistent on staying near the register rather than anywhere near cauldrons. “-and I also should have known potion ingredients better. It’s on me. I’m sorry.”

“I know I’m not insured to brew. I’ll familiarize myself more with the protocol.” Cho tries to assure him, nodding her head slightly. “But really, you can dock my pay. It’s only right.” She hasn’t an urgent need for it right now. Her savings can get her through the year and not getting a month’s pay wouldn’t hurt her pockets. It’s only the right thing. “To cover for the loss. Besides, if I were in your position, I would have fired me.”

Dear Lee,

This letter might come as a surprise to you because we haven’t spoken to each other in quite some time. To be honest, I don’t even remember the last time I talked to you. It’s been that long. And it’s partly my fault that we haven’t managed to keep in touch. I’m sorry. But I’ve recently heard that you’ve been fired let go from your emcee spot at the Wizarding Wireless Network and I know how much the job means to you. So I figured I’d reach to ask if you’re coping well with the job loss? In short, are you okay?

I’ve also heard from our mutual friends that you’ve spiralled created some new content for something? Well whatever it is for, good for you for getting back up! However, some of our friends expressed some concern over it. They said the content might be a little too controversial and that you could get in trouble because of it. I’m relaying their message because the others don’t want to write you this letter I agree with them. With the current political situation as it is, it might be wise for you to lay low for a while and to hold back a little. Your opinions can be seen as divisive. And divisive opinions in this political tension can lead to more than just trouble. 

Once again, I am writing to you as a concerned old friend. I don’t want you to get in trouble or make enemies out of the wrong people. We’re all here for you. We really are. Hope things are fine with you. Please write back soon.

Sincerely,

@swancries​ ; interevent.01 / post coffee shop meeting.

    Harry was sipping at the Chocolate Liqueur he’d found at the food and drink station near the back of the fundraiser. It was tasty and he preferred it to the much stronger Firewhiskey that he hadn’t seen there at the table, which stood to reason. Tension was high in the Ministry as it was and Harry knew that probably not everyone that was there wanted to be there. He didn’t mind, however, so long as Bellatrix Lestrange didn’t wander anywhere near him. Not that she seemed to be there, which was a relief.

    He spotted a familiar face in the gathering and smiled a little to himself, lowering the glass as he wandered over to her. He and Cho Chang had caught up just last week, but it was nice to see her so soon again. They’d been somewhat friends during school and he was glad to see she was doing well and he wasn’t entirely surprised to find her at an event such as this. Harry decided that he would not bother her about the Order or going against the Ministry, certainly not while they were inside it. She could come to him if she ever made that decision.

    “Hey Cho!” Harry said as he lifted his free hand up to wave at her in greeting. “It’s nice seeing you again. Come to donate to the Ministry or try their selection of treats?”  He knew how she fancied sweets and figured she’d be making a beeline for the food table soon enough.

Cho’s never been awfully fond of fundraisers, least of all Mungo’s fundraisers. When she was still employed at the hospital, she had to prepare presentations and charts and statistics and data to impress donors and to convince people to fund her latest research. It was taxing and exhausting. Gruelling work. Easily the hardest part of working at Mungo’s. Having to convince people that your place of employment and you deserve funding when all you do all day is help people as best you can at your place of employment. Even then, the donors are always more interested in having a ward or an executive position named after them. More fascinated by the prospects of beating all the other donors and being named “Most Generous”, as if being “Most Generous” actually makes one a generous person.

Maybe that’s one of the internal reasons she quit, one of the-not-tipping-point-but-glaring reasons. She sighs, putting down her glass of champagne and glancing at her watch. She wonders if now is the polite time to leave, if she can get away with departing at this time.

Before Cho can leave though, she hears someone call her name and turns around, coming face to face with Harry. Instinctively she smiles at him and waves back. Harry’s a good friend. They were never very close at school but they were always friendly. And she likes his company. They’d met last week at a coffee shop, him offering her a place in the Order, her being non-committal to the idea of fighting for the light. She hopes he’s not asking for a definite answer tonight. She can’t give him that.

Who: Ana & @swancries​ When: Theo’s Apothecary

Life had flipped completely upside down over the last few months. She was in a loveless engagement, and trying to figure out how to navigate building some form of relationship there. It would never be love, Ana was no fool - but that didn’t mean they had to spend their lives hating one another, simply because their parents had deemed them to be a good fit. Life didn’t have to be difficult. It wouldn’t be love, but it could be friendship - and Ana could work with that. She didn’t have many genuine friends in England yet, having been largely focused on work over the last few years - but her future husband seemed like a good place to start. 

She’d had a rare day off, and had spent the day splitting her time between Diagon Alley and muggle London. She’d eaten her fill in her favourite café in muggle London, and left with a bag full of Russian desserts for Draco who was supposed to be working late. Apparating directly in front of the apothecary’s door, Ana poked her head in and looked around for Draco. “Hello?” she called, a frown crossing her expression as Cho Chang appeared behind the counter. Ana was certain that the woman was following her, and now she’s here. 

“Have you had a career change?” Ana asked tentatively, remembering Cho hovering over her hospital bed. “Do you know where my fiance is? I have some khavorst to feed him.”

-

The apothecary is always quiet this time of day. Customers usually come in the morning or in the afternoon, before they get to work and after they get off. The stockists ship deliveries just before the shop closes. Malfoy and Bletchley take their lunch breaks around this time, leaving Cho alone at the shop most of the time. She doesn’t mind. It’s nice to be alone and to have some quiet moments.

So Cho sits at the register, nursing a thermos of warm sweet tea she’s brought from home and flipping through yesterday’s Daily Prophet when a head pokes into the shop. Slightly startled, she gets up from her seat and places her thermos onto the table before walking over. Letting out a sigh of relief to see that it’s simply Anastasia Dolohov, looking for Malfoy. 

“Hello,” she greets, gesturing for Ana to come inside and opening the door wider, “If you’re looking for Malfoy, he just went out for his lunch break. He should be back soon though. His potion’s still brewing.”

He stood, blinking and bewildered at the sudden appearance of Cho spouting off versions of his name in his direction. Mumbling out a “Theo is fine.” underneath her sentences. Why was it when he actively thought about ducking away, down a corridor or even up to the street level to deal with the silver case holding all the answers to calming down in the overstimulating environment, he was stopped? Why would Cho Chang need to know how to address him? He avoided St. Mungo’s as a hard practiced habit. He’d spent too much of his youth haunting the halls of the Janus Thickey Ward to ever think anything good could come from that place. 

Mr. Nott wasn’t right. It felt restrictive and cold despite Theodore’s want to keep a barrier of distance between himself and those not within his inner circle of hellish former classmates. Mr. Nott was who he had become. The only other men bearing that name living either continents away or residing in a tucked away estate far more North than the man standing in the Atrium with a glass of champagne locked in his grip.

He had hired her. Cho. That was right. Her Potions N.E.W.T.s had been decent, far better than the other applicants that came in for the teller position and she seemed intelligent, which was a rare quality for anyone their age to possess. She had all the qualities of a healer that had made him steer clear of the Hospital Wing during their shared time at school. The sight, not into the future but an assessing gaze that caused his posture to straighten. One that made Theodore aware of the slump of his shoulders or downward tilt of his gaze. That look was a factor in her hiring, eyes that saw through paper-thin excuses the patrons of Mulpepper’s with sticky fingers tended to have. Perhaps he should have put her in the Knockturn branch.

“Miles hasn’t.” A sigh. “Why?” Bletchley hadn’t been his hire but his father’s. He wasn’t the sort of personality Theo found he meshed well with, overstepping and loud and– exactly like his chosen (or fate and society determined) friends.

Miles, Draco, and Cho shouldn’t be a violate combination, old quidditch rivalries aside. They were all skilled in one way or another, or he supposed Cho was based on her accomplishments. “What happened today?” Theo wasn’t eager to hear her answer and he doubted the Ministry was letting in un-government employed owls to interrupt the strange excuse of a fundraiser masked under Litha Celebration.

“Right, Theo.” Cho has forgotten how much more formal Mungo’s is compared to the rest of the Wizarding World. In Mungo’s, you call everyone by their last name with their role at the hospital tucked neatly at the front. Then you call the patient Mr. or Mrs. for professionality’s sake. The board members and generous donors also get the Mr. and Mrs. moniker. It’s a tightly-formed hierarchy of higher-ups and people who know their place in the system. She was part of that system. Until she did the unthinkable and left of her own accord. Left before they cut her hours and made her redundant like some of her ex-coworkers.

She straightens up. “That’s a relief,” she mutters. She reckoned Bletchley would have run to Theodore Nott the second the potion exploded, writing her up for causing troubles and recommending her to be allocated elsewhere or fired. They didn’t exactly have the best rapport back at Hogwarts. Ravenclaw was always losing the games against Slytherin until Cho grabbed the Snitch.

“I ruined a potion. Bletchley asked me to help in add in an ingredient to the potion he was working on.” she starts to explain, not wanting to hide what happened. Cho’s an honest person for the most part. “I added the wrong one. It exploded. The brewing room’s out of commission.”

mungo’s fundraiser, ministry’s atrium

Cho has never done many drastic things in life. She’s always been straight-laced, a stickler for rules and protocols. Never been one for grand ideas and grand gestures and grandiosity. She has ambitions, sure, but her ambitions are personal and carefully curated and approved by her parents and family and close friends. It isn’t in her blood to leave jobs. Especially not one as cushy and secure as a Healer position at Mungo’s. Let alone leave it for a flurry of uncertainty like job-hopping and gigs. Let alone to work at Theodore Nott’s apothecary where she has just inflicted property damage on her first day.

She shudders, thinking back to the layer of cold, hard-as-metal, scorched potion spill now covering the walls of the brewing room that she has only managed to scrap half off of. And Miles Bletchley’s loud, high-pitched laughter when he saw the potion blast. He knew she’s no good at magical plants with no healing properties and yet he asked her to help him throw in an ingredient into a potion he was brewing because he was busy, not specificing what it looks like. 

All in all, her first day was a disaster. 

The fact that she has to attend the fundraiser of her former employer after that? Just brutal.

Also the fact that her current employer is also here, at the fundraiser? And she can see him just a few metres away from the fountain? Fate is really throwing her the shorter end of the stick here.

Cho sighs and puts her hands together in prayer, resolving to get everything over with now instead of later when Bletchley ultimately rats her out to Theodore Nott and fires her. So she saunters over to where Theodore Nott is standing.

“Theodore Nott,” she greets him, unsure of what to call him or how to address him, “Nott? Mr. Nott? How should I address you again?” She shrugs, “Lovely to see you here. Supporting a cause.” She gestures vaguely to the fountain, its water gleaming gold from the Galleons thrown in. She makes a mental note to throw some in herself. Everyone knows Mungo’s badly needs it.