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parvatibrownpatil · 4 years

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❝ and for his askance, as he considered women feeble, weak creatures, was that only a female could kill him. imagine his surprise then, when the Goddess Kali appeared, a necklace of demon heads like his around her neck, her power far overshadowing his. ❞ Merlin’s beard, what is ( PARVATI BROWN-PATIL ) doing out at this hour? For a ( HALF-BLOOD ) who is ( 47 ) years old, ( SHE ) really ought to know better. You know, I hear that they’re aligned with ( THE ORDER ), but that could be just a rumor. I do know that they're ( CISFEMALE ) and a ( GRYFFINDOR ) alum who works as a ( MAGICAL CREATURE CONSERVATIONIST ) though. They're very (STEADFAST) and (ROMANTIC) but also quite (ALOOF) and (JUDGEMENTAL), which could be why they remind of (READING TAROT CARDS AND GAZING INTO CRYSTAL BALLS, STARING AT THE STARS BUT WORKING ON THE GROUND, SKIN TURNED TO PORCELAIN TO IVORY TO STEEL, BEARING THE NAME OF A GODDESS KNOWN FOR BEAUTY AND POWER). Some people say they’re the spitting image of ( JANINA GAVANKAR ), but I’ve never heard of them. Word on the street is that they're ( THE GUARDIAN ) and their prophecy is ( PROPHECY #33. ), but only time will tell if that's true or not. [ JESS, 23, SHE/HER, AEST ]

Though born in one of the wizarding cities of Mumbai, the Patil family moved to London when Parvati was five. Their parents were exceptional healers who had been offered a prominent research position at St. Mungo’s for several years. It was only after the threat of Voldemort had passed that they were comfortable in taking the offer, moving their family to London, where the twins grew up in the heart of Wizarding society. As important Senior Healers, the Patils were frequent presences at Ministry functions and their twin daughters had a wide aquaintance with pureblood and half-blood wixen of their own age before starting school. .

[ABLEISM TW] Suddenly living in what seemed like an entirely different world, a very dreary and colourless one in comparison to the warm and bright home she’d been used to, was difficult for Parvati. She struggled to learn a new language - unlike her sister, Padma, for whom it seemed to come easily. It was a pattern that would follow them throughout their entire childhood and make the experience of being a twin a painful experience. Parvati was a slow, painful learner, ultimately preferring to talk in class rather than work, while Padma usually had her head to the books. Parvati’s behaviour was really a delaying tactic, she didn’t just dislike school, she found it near impossible. It took years to discover she was dyslexic and even then no-one in the family said the word. Dyslexia was something Muggles had, not wixen. It didn’t help that Parvati’s mother, belonging to an important Indian pureblood family, had married a Muggle-born. While their family was relaxed about blood purity and intermarrying, her pureblood cousins nonetheless saw her supposed learning disorder as a consequence, a Muggle taint, and would frequently tease her about it. [END TW]

So it wasn’t spoken about. Rather they just begun categorising the twins: Padma was the quiet, smart one, while Parvati was the social, pretty one. It didn’t take long before Parvati entirely believed this. At Hogwarts, it was no different. Like all the other first years, they were actually categorised - Padma to Ravenclaw, the smart house, and Parvati, to Gryffindor. It hurt receiving this confirmation of what she’d suspected for years, particularly when people were so astonished to see twins sorted to different houses. Siblings usually went together, everyone said. Weren’t all six of the Weasley brothers, including a set of twins, Gryffindors? As much as she tried to convince herself that Padma hadn’t been good enough for Gryffindor, Parvati knew the truth was that she hadn’t been good enough for Ravenclaw. After spending time with her housemates, it became quickly apparent to her that Gryffindors weren’t really known for their intelligence. Considering she had long since believed she lacked intelligence, Parvati accepted her place there. Truthfully, she belonged there for other reasons, always bold and defensive of others, she was the first Gryffindor first year to stand up for Neville Longbottom against the Slytherins. From a young age, Parvati took up her role as a protector, someone who can’t stand to see others hurt. This would continue for the rest of her life.

Being in different houses meant she and Padma rarely had time to spend together. They went from being attached at the hip to mostly seeing each other from across tables at the Great Hall, as they exchanged skeptical looks regarding the bland English dinner served. But the real reason they spent less time together was the close bond Parvati had established almost immediately upon meeting Lavender Brown. They were instant best friends - perhaps because their third roommate, Hermione Granger, was so offputting and unlikable. Parvati and Lavender, however, shared a love for ‘girly’ things, dissecting an issue of Witch Weekly on the first train ride together and never looking back. Together, they could giggle and gossip and talk about anything. While Padma might have felt replaced, Parvati never saw it that way. It wasn’t a sister substitute she was getting in Lavander, but a best friend. Someone she always wanted to be around, someone she felt connected to beyond words - even if she didn’t quite understand why yet.

While Parvati was someone who didn’t like bullies and was vocal against them, her love for Lavendar and distaste for Hermione meant she ignored the way the close friendship between two of the Gryffindor girls ostracized, and at times, was deliberately cruel, to the third. Though she claimed to find Hermione bossy and annoying, Parvati would never admit that she was jealous of Hermione’s intelligence and how easily schoolwork seemed to come to her. For Parvati, it remained anything but. She struggled with reading in particular, made worse by how often schoolwork at Hogwarts used Latin words. In addition to Marathi and English, having to decipher a third language felt like an insurmountable task. So Parvati’s preference were for classes that were practical more than theoretical. For the first few years, this mostly meant Defence Against the Dark Arts. Come third year, Parvati found a new subject to love with all of her heart. Divination. Finally, she could say she loved reading, when it meant reading crystal balls and tarot cards, reading symbols and images. They made sense. And Parvati was good at it - finally, she was considered the smart one by someone, even if it was Professor Trewlawney, who everyone else laughed at. Parvati believed completely in everything Trewlawney said, considering the witch her favourite teacher.

Fourth year was when everything changed. The war began, of course, but really, what Parvati was worrying about most at the end of the year was whether the boy from Beauxbatons was really going to write to her, as he’d promised. She wanted a boyfriend, it was what she was supposed to have, but there was something intensely comfortable about the idea of a boyfriend in quill & parchment form. Someone who lived in France, that she’d never have to see again, but all the same, she could say she had one. Unattainable boys were the only ones Parvati really liked, hence why all year she’d singled out Harry Potter as her crush. When Lavender had told her she was going to the Yule Ball with Seamus, Parvati had felt strange about it, though she hadn’t known why. She’d tried to be thrilled when Harry had asked her out and some part of her did feel special, that the hero of their year had chosen her, that everyone would be talking about her, looking at her. Of course, that didn’t last long considering Harry had paid about as much attention to her at the ball as he might have to a lacewing fly.

Worse was the moment Hermione Granger had come in, looking so beautiful Parvati thought she might lose the power of speech altogether. Parvati had realised then what she might have always known deep down: she was attracted to other girls, not to boys. She just wasn’t ready to admit it. So when the boy from Beauxbatons had come to ask her to dance, she saw him not just as her saviour from boredom at the hands of Harry Potter, but as her way to keep ignoring the truth about herself. She told anyone who would listen how much she liked him and how much he liked her and made plans to keep writing when they were apart. Of course she was horrified when Cedric Diggory died, horrified at hearing Voldemort had returned - but none of that felt real. Not in comparison to the relief she felt at knowing she wouldn’t have to kiss the boy from Beauxbatons again once he was at a safe distance back in France. Or in comparison to how afraid she was about what she had felt towards Hermione at the dance and even worse, the deeper feelings she thought she might have towards Lavender. The wider horror of the war was yet to sink in.

It wouldn’t until long after she joined Dumbledore’s Army. When she returned in fifth year, Parvati was determined to ignore any romantic feelings she might harbour towards girls. She was also still embarrassed that she was attracted to Hermione of all people, who was still as much of a bossy know-it-all as ever (a crush she would never admit to, even later in life). Joining the DA was an easy decision. Parvati was loyal to her fellow Gryffindors in particular and this soon extended to the rest of their makeshift student army. Her family had always stood against blood prejudice, and for Parvati it was personal, since her father was Muggle-born. Still, at first the DA was more about standing up to Umbridge than anything else. It didn’t feel like a war yet, and Parvati saw Umbridge as yet another bully to take a stand against.

Sixth year was when things began to feel more serious. Not that she hadn’t believed Harry before, but now that everyone knew the truth ... the existence of war was more credible. Parvati’s parents also began speaking about pulling the girls out of school, of returning to India to escape the end of the war. This Parvati resisted - even though they were no longer running the DA and at this point she certainly didn’t think she or the students of Hogwarts would ever be called upon to fight in the war (except perhaps Harry). But maybe some part of her did know, because she couldn’t stand the idea of leaving her friends. And especially, she couldn’t stand the idea of leaving Lavender.

It was the year Parvati finally understood her feelings for her best friend, helped by the new bane of her existence, Ron Weasley. Together Ron and Lavender were almost completely unbearable and Parvati could no longer deny she was jealous. She tried to avoid spending as much time with them as possible and felt sympathy for Hermione, who was clearly in love with Ron. Maybe it was better for Parvati, because no one else knew she was in love with Lavender, or maybe it just hurt more because at least everyone also knew that Ron was in love with Hermione in return, whereas she was certain Lavender only saw her as a friend. Most of her year was consumed with trying to hide these feelings.

Seventh year was when the war was finally, finally real. Though Parvati had managed to talk her parents out of pulling her out of school in sixth year, they had done so after Dumbledore’s death, not even letting the twins stay for the funeral. The family seriously discussed all leaving the country after that, but Parvati still wanted to stay. In the end, they made the difficult decision as a family for her Muggle-born father to return to Mumbai, while their mother would stay at St. Mungo’s and attempt to protect the patients. They believed that with their family’s main target protected and out of the way, the rest of them could stay safe.

Parvati felt as though she became a different person that year. She had always been powerful - DADA was one of her better classes and under Harry’s instructions she’d mastered the Reducto curse (I understand why the movies gave this scene to Ginny but can we give it up for the OG powerhouse, Parvati Patil?). But she’d also always been giggly and a tiny bit shallow, more concerned with herself than with the wider world. This year that changed. While many members of the DA took risks to stand up to Snape and the Carrows, Parvati was right alongside them. In particular, she did her best to protect the younger students, aware that she wasn’t one of the leaders or the heroes, but she could make a small difference by trying to take care of the people who needed her most.

It was a horrible year and every day she had woke up feeling terrified, but Parvati had felt powerful too, perhaps for the first time in her life. In comparison, her anxiety about her sexuality began fading away and she was encouraged to take a personal risk and finally confess her feelings for Lavender. (Keeping this vague because I’d love to plot out a relationship with a Lavender player!).

In the final battle, she fought alongside Dean, duelling Travers and Dolohov together. Parvati hadn’t wanted to leave Dean defenseless since he hadn’t had a wand, so she’d made a point of sticking by him. Because of that, she was separated from Lavender and bitterly regrets that she wasn’t there to help her against Greyback’s attack. It remains one of the things that most haunts her nightmares.

In the aftermath of the war, Parvati was at a loss for what to do next. She returned to school to finish her seventh year, but she hadn’t come away with especially brilliant results. Her best subject had always remained Divination. She also liked Care of Magical Creatures, with a fondness for animals, especially loving unicorns - Grubbly Plank’s lesson on them had been Parvati’s all-time favourite - but she hadn’t continued it after OWLs. This was because of Professor Hagrid. Unlike many Gryffindors, Parvati hadn’t much liked Hagrid. It wasn’t because he was half-giant - at least not entirely. Having grown up with dark tales about giants, Parvati did harbour some prejudice, but mostly she found him frightening and a poor teacher, who focused far too much on monsters for her liking. She regretted it somewhat after school when she left with average NEWTs only in Divination, DADA, Charms and Herbology. There was little she could do with those subjects and she once more felt inadequate in comparison to her brilliant sister.

For a while she had worked as the assistant in a divination shop, but it didn’t feel like her passion in life. After a few years, she got back in contact with Professor Grubbly-Plank and with the witch’s encouragement, did a Kwikspell course in magical creature management. With this, she started working for a unicorn sanctuary and eventually worked her way up to being the manager, as she is today. The sanctuary provides a free and wild environment for unicorns, which are often hunted illegally, for the magical properties of their blood, and legally, considering their use in wandmaking. Parvati also takes in damaged unicorns and heals them, as well as advocates for the prevention of unicorn hunting. Considering unicorns prefer to be around women, the staff is made up almost entirely of witches. This of course includes all witches, including transgender women, who the unicorns welcome and adore. Parvati cares deeply about creating a safe space for LGBTIQA+ wixen, given her experiences when she was young and felt out of place.

Parvati now lives on the unicorn sanctuary, with her wife Lavender and their children. (I’d love people to take up the Brown-Patil children! I have no real thoughts on them and would prefer to leave it open for people to create them themselves but just putting it out there that I’d love some kids!

The rise of the second war brought up all Parvati’s old trauma. She is particularly afraid for her family. The deaths of Harry and later, Neville, were each a cause of devastation for her - their old cohort had remained close over the years. She was also terrifed as to what the rest of them would do without the two men who she still looked to as leaders. This was especially true when it came to Harry - still a fervent believer in divination, Parvati never doubted that he was the one referred to as the saviour of them all once again. In her heart of hearts, she believes the Knights did the rest thing in restoring him to life and thinks she might even have done the same. It is clearly fated, after all - Harry is now truly a living revenant and will save them all. The loss of Neville is something that breaks her heart, but she understands the Knights were unaware that it would happen. Frankly, she wouldn’t have minded seeing a Wraith fall in exchange for Harry, as she has no doubt his memories will be restored to him, allowing him to step up as he did before.

However, Parvati remains a member of the Order of the Phoenix, determined to play her part as well. She had joined as soon as it had been restarted, and offered up the unicorn sanctuary as another refuge for the Order, considering how wide ranging and magically protected it was. She currently uses the international contacts she’s gathered from transporting injured unicorns to and from the sanctuary to help targets of the Wraiths get out of England and into hiding, as much of a dauntless protector of others as she has always been.

Parvati is also fairly certain that Prophecy #33 belongs to her:

THE GUARDIAN will not be remembered. They will be completely written out of the history books, and the world will ultimately forgot their name. Almost as though they never existed in the first place.

Nothing in it surprised her - she knows her place is to protect others, rather than to play a significant role herself. It’s always been that way and Parvati has long since accepted it. While part of her is bitter over the knowledge that she will once more be ultimately insignificant, not good enough to really make a difference, she knows there are more important things, such as making certain her loved ones remain safe.

#rev intros

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blamethebanana · 4 years

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Character Study : Pansy Parkinson

Like many characters in Harry Potter, Pansy is one of those whose vocation is only to represent oneself absolute evil or the greatest good. They are as deep as a breaded fish and are reduced only to their function.

Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin in her greatest role.

Maleficent, hateful, manipulative, selfish, cruel, cowardly. So many adjectives that describe the Slytherins of the original series who are neither Draco Malfoy, nor Severus Rogue, nor so insignificant that we forgot until their very existence.

Ah yes, I forget Slughorn, but it corresponds to another snapshot of the Slytherin, elitism even if it means ignoring those it considers banal and without talent, see stupid as well as ugliness. Yes, apart from Draco Malfoy and young Tom Riddle, Slytherins are doomed to be ugly or fat, or both.

(This statement can be corrected with Fantastic Beasts or The Cursed Child, but let's face it even if the first is absolutely great, they are both a way for Rowling to limit criticism of the original works by putting more complex characters, different ethnicities and different sexual orientations - although the representation of the LGBT community goes more through Ezra Miller than through Dumbledore, let's face it.)

Pansy is also described as a sadistic person with an evil spirit, who likes to harass his little comrades, faults corresponding to the image given to all Slytherins during the books. She uses her vicious spirit to enter the good graces of Draco Malfoy with whom she seems in love.

The complexity of Pansy Parkinson?

At first glance, in JK Rowling's work, none of the Slytherins outside of Draco, Regulus Black, Narcissa and Rogue have complex personalities. Yes even Voldemort, but it is another subject that I would raise in the future.

Yet ... Pansy Parkinson has the potential to be so much more than the obedient little dog who attacks in place of his master, and when that could be explained.

Pansy Parkinson belongs to one of the twenty-eight sacred and although the place of the woman in the society of the purebloods is not specially described, it is implied that the role of a woman does not differ from that a few centuries earlier. Give birth and stay at home. Molly Weasley being pureblood, we can use it as an example. In addition, the Pureblood Suprematists, sometimes affectionately named Death Eater, have very few women in their rank, they are counted as two - Narcissa excluded. Pansy would therefore have lived in a society where his role was to be led by a man, only to be given to another. The Malfoy family being powerful and influential, it is not surprising that her ambition is focused on them, even if it means being an object for sale, as much as being sold to an owner who can bring us a few things.

Pansy is only bad because that is probably all she has been taught to be. She's probably just a scared little girl trying to cope. Character strength is often something that Fanon associates with Pansy due to her assertive tongue which is canon and which would be a protective mechanism.

If Pansy lived in a loveless home, with outdated ideas about the place of the destined woman, it is not difficult to imagine what her father, a death eater, could do with her. In addition, Pansy has no brother, and seems to be an only daughter, so it marks the end of the Parkinson lineage, and that even with a beautiful marriage should not help to be better seen by his family, like Leta Lestrange .

Pansy is therefore moved by the fear hidden behind a cruel facade induced by a childhood that could have been difficult for her. She could also have created in her a need for recognition from her peers, in particular the recognition of Draco Malfoy.

This argument is reinforced by the big scene from Pansy Parkinson. You don't know what I'm talking about? When she yells to hand Harry over to Voldemort to “save” them all of the battle of Hogwarts. It is not the actions of a Death Eater, but rather of a terrified person, which is reinforced by the fact that he is not taken part in the war.

The appearance of Pansy Parkinson?

Like many characters from Slytherin, her physique is described as unsightly. Would it be a feature to enter the house? Only Blaise, Draco, the Black sisters, and a young Tom Riddle seem to have been spared the curse of the ugliness that descends on the house.

We therefore have two options: The first is the most likely, it is simply that the story is told from the point of view of a Gryffindor who coats Gryffindors and that Pansy is an ugly Slytherin, the judgment that carries Harry Potter or even Hermione Granger on her physique are therefore biased by their enmity. Indeed, Rita Skeeter describes Pansy as vivacious and pretty. Is this true? Or does she compliment her because of the information she provides?

The second option is sad. Pansy was touched by the Slytherin ugly curse.

Why is the universe that fans create so important?

Does this question need to be answered? Harry Potter features a lot of characters who are ignored, or categorized by their action and where their character trait is often pushed to exaggeration. And that allows us to have a different vision of them, like Percy who is only limited to his ambition, Charlie to his dragons - thank god Hogwart's mystery is there -, Crabbe and Goyle have their stupid looks and their gorilla builds, Oliver Wood has his viceral need to win the Quidditch or Lavender and her relationship with Ron and her taste for gossip and superficality.

We thank JK Rowling for giving the world the universe of Harry, but we can never congratulate the fans enough for what they have done with it, an open place where everyone is accepted and where the characters are human., with more complexity than being kind or mean.

I can understand that we can't develop all the characters, but two lines on them that offer more than "She sold Harry first, and then she said bad things about Neville and Parvati, and what's more a Slytherin! ".

So thank you to those who made Pansy a lesbian with a strong character or a powerful feminist with a strong voice. You gave her what she deserved.

#pansy parkinson #harry potter #slytherin pride #hp #is that headcanons ?#favorite characters #character appreciation #character study

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patilsurvivor · 4 years

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⧼ alia bhatt, , cis woman, she/her / the archer by taylor swift + hypnotising flames dancing in an open fireplace ; crushed tea leaves at the bottom of the tea cup ; wind howling in empty corridors ⧽ ━━ hey, isn’t that PARVATI PATIL? i read a daily prophet article on them, once ; the TWENTY FOUR year old [ pure blood ] WITCH is a [ GRYFFINDOR alumnus who has gone on to be a STORE ASSISTANT AT WEASLEY WIZARD WHEEZES ]. i’ve heard they can be quite BRAVE & PRINCIPLED, but i don’t know… they came off very BLUNT & CATTY in that interview. it really is hard to know what to believe these days though, isn’t it? [ plume, 26, gmt+1, she/her + tw snake and suicide ]

Hey I’m Plume and I’m super excited to join this group. It’s been too long since I wrote in the HP universe. I can’t wait to plot with you all. Here you have my vision of Parvati in this AU !

Family

Parvati and Padma were born to second generation Indian wizards immigrants. Their mother, Nusrat, worked in Saint Mungo and their father, Prajeet, had a shop specialised in magical items from India and other parts of Asia in Diagon Alley. Prajeet was a ravenclaw alumni and Nusrat a hufflepuff alumni. Prajeet insisted on choosing a name starting with a p for the twins to follow a family tradition. The twins had a great childhood and comfortable home life with two loving parents.

Hogwarts

Honestly I did not change anything from what is canon in the books. Parvati was a lively girl who enjoyed gossiping, pretty and girly things. She was best friend with Lavender Brown. She loved divination and transfiguration. She had even planed on making a career in divination after graduating. She dreamed of opening a shop with Lavender under Professor Trelawney’s guidance. She was a popular and pretty girl who knew her place in the school’s social hierarchy. (Dean did call her and Padma “the best looking girls in the year”) Yet she was compassionate and stood up for what she believed was right and for people she cared about (defending Neville or Harry for example). Being full of contradictions, Parvati defended people but also mocked others and spread rumours. She had a catty side and Lavender and her could be truly irritating to be around.

People who did not know her viewed her as shallow but if one paid closer attention they could see that there was more to her than petty gossip. Parvati cared about her grades and school work. She was a good student not as brilliant as Hermione but was serious about her studies and performed well.

She was excited to go with Harry to the Yule Ball, and could have gone with anyone as she was popular among the boys. She agreed to go with Harry out of vanity. He was champion and she liked the attention. Since Harry proved to be a terrible date she abandoned him to finish the evening with a handsome Beauxbâtons student who was actually interested in dancing and entertaining her. She ended up dating him for the rest of the year.

During the fifth year, she joined the Dumbledore’s Army because she believed it was the right thing to do and that Umbridge’s actions were intolerable. She was also selfishly motivated by wanting to perform well in her OWLs. She believed that they needed to practice before their exam and they were not allowed to do it in class so if she had to break rules, then she would. Being a member of the DA actually made her grow and some people realised that she was not that shallow. She had talents and was not simply Lavender giggling partner.

She was greatly pained not to be picked to be a member of the Slug Club. It bruised her ego to not be considered special enough. She wished that she could have been part of the elitist gatherings. During that year, after Katie Bell’s attack, her parents wanted to withdraw their daughters from the school. Both girls had to fight and argue to remain in Hogwarts. Parvati was also a bit uncomfortable with Ron and Lavender’s relationship at times. (Gross) public display of affections were too much for her. Although she was furious when they broke up and both best friends could be heard frequently cursing Ron until more dramatic events made his behaviour insignificant.

Seventh year was hell. Parvati hated every second of it. She banded together with Dumbledore’s Army members to protect younger students and resist. She lived day to day until the battle of Hogwarts. She was a pureblood and could have stood by and let the death eaters do their horrible deeds but it was not who she was. Her family had never believed in blood purity and the Patil twins were fighters. They would not watch their peers being tortured or abused. They had to do something about it, even if it cost them greatly. She worried about Dean and her muggleborn friends who had to hide. She also worried about Harry, Hermione and Ron. When the time came, she fought the finale battle.

After the battle of Hogwarts

Losing Padma shattered her. Something broke inside of Parvati. The battle had taken her twin and many friends from her. It also made her a killer. She was lost and aimless. She did not see herself keep on with her life as if the world had not ended. She ditched her plan of opening a divination shop with Lavender. She could not see herself going on with the future she had planed for years. It felt wrong. It was a dark time for everybody and she could not find comfort in any of her friends or her family. They were all so broken. She could not stand the shadow of a life they were all living.

To escape it all, she put her transfiguration and DA training to use and became a curse-breaker for Gringotts. It was a miracle they recruited her but she guessed that extraordinary times called for exceptions. For a few years, she was constantly travelling and working. It was her way to cope with the trauma. The irony was that she tried to escape the war by entering a career that required her to fight all the time. It was not really a smart move or the best way to recover. However it was all she knew and it had the benefits of taking her away from home. She could not stand seeing the sadness in her parents eyes or wandering in places that reminded her of Padma. It was even hard to look at herself in a mirror and see her sister’s image. She avoided her reflection for years. Nusrat and Prajeet disapproved of her job as they were afraid of losing the only daughter they had left. Parvati was constantly risking her life.

She tried to shed everything that used to make her “her”. Her last year of school had already stripped her of her bubbly personality. Losing Padma finished erasing that lively side. War had changed everybody. It was particularly noticeable in people like Parvati. Gone were the giggles and sparkling eyes. At times she missed the girl she used to be. She would give anything to be able to just one more time, sit with Padma and Lavender and laugh about Luna’s radish earrings or roll her eyes at Dean and Seamus being silly in the common room. She tried not to think or dwell about the past because it only hurt.

However time started to heal her wounds. She would never forget what had happened to her, her sister and her friends but it became easier to live with the trauma. She found herself enjoying her visits back home more than dreading them. During those times, she would visit old friends as what felt like a mandatory task and was bittersweet. Eventually just as she longed for breaks between missions, she realised that she longed for her friends and a kinship. She had been alone for too long and it was time that she tried to live her life again instead of escaping it.

She recently decided to settle down and quit her job at Gringotts. She needed to try to figure out what to do for the rest of her life. Did she want to go back to her original plan or not ? She could not really decide. George Weasley who like her had lost a twin and was the only person who she felt understood her pain and struggles, kindly offered her a job at his Wizard Wheezes shop. She took it knowing that working in a joke and tricks shop would not be boring and that George and her could support each others.

Parvati did not join the Order of Phoenix as she wanted nothing to do with wars anymore. She had had enough. She remained a member of the Dumbledore’s Army but was not actively participating in anything. She simply promised to be there if another battle happened.

Summary

I kept everything book canon until the battle of Hogwarts. Padma’s death broke Parvati. She abandoned her plans of opening a divination shop. She shut people down and left to become a curse-breaker to escape her pain and trauma. For years she rarely visited home and kept very little contact with her friends. Time healed her a little. She recently came back to the UK and decided to try and live a peaceful life. George Weasley offered her a job at Weasley Wizard Wheezes. She wishes to reconnect with her friends or make new ones. She is still a member of the Dumbledore Army but not an active one.

Abilities

Working as a curse breaker made Parvati a better witch and she continued to develop her magic and abilities. She has plenty of spells in her sleeves. She is now able to cast a corporeal patronus.

Wanted connections

Perhaps someone who tried to be there for Parvati but she shut them down and was not really responsive to the friendship and support given to her

Other curse-breakers

Flings (Parvati was not in a head space to date but she could have had flings here and there while she was back home)

Former Beauxbâtons boyfriend ?? (i don’t know if anyone is an alumni and fits the age range)

Hogwarts/Gryffindor/DA rekindling friendships. Seriously my girl was like bye everyone and only sporadically came home for years. She feels super guilty of abandoning her friends to go on her own journey. And she wants to make amends and rebuild relationships. She also feel bad for how she treated Luna and Hermione at times when they were in school.

Perhaps a new friend she made recently

Someone she does not vibe with

Someone she was not friend with in school but they are seeing each others in a new light ?

Cousin ? If anyone has indian or part indian character we could try to work something

Former Hogwarts boyfriend(s). We know nothing in canon about Parvati’s love life but it’s easy to speculate that she dated a few people.

Enemies from Hogwarts that remained enemies

Perhaps someone who had an unrequited crush on her at school ?

#nox.intro #i tried to keep it short ish #i added a summary if you don't have the patience to read it all #death tw

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spellcasterhq · 4 years

Photo

Parvati Patil

Age: 21 Blood status: Pure-Blood Former Wizardry School: Hogwarts Wand: 9 1/2″ Hazel, Dragon-heart string, very flexible. Patronus: Blackswan Boggart: Mummy Amortentia’s smell: Tea, Spearmint, Warm Down Pillows, Led Former Wizardry School: Hogwarts. Traits:

+ Eager, Compassionate, Loyal - Impressionable, Blunt, Petty

Faceclaim: Banita Sandhu House: Carnelian Area of study: Healer Clubs & Sports: n/a.

Connections:

Padma Patil - Twin sister. Padma was her first best friend but when they were separated by the sorting hat, Padma and Parvati spent less time with each other in campus. Although their relationship never faded, they grew to be their own people. Parvati claims she much enjoys Padma’s personality more now.

Lavender Brown - Best Friends. Lavender and Parvati were fast friends. Sharing a room in Hogwarts only strengthened their bond. They bonded over fashion, gossip, and their favorite subject, Divination. Parvati thought she almost lost her best friends during the battle, and she never left her side while she was at St. Mungos.

Harry Potter - There’s a part of Parvati that still holds a grudge against Harry for the highly disappointing date during the Yule Ball. But she’s also not so daft as to know that Harry is intrinsically a good human being, for the most part. She finds that there are moments that she bonds with the wizard, namely with his conviction and leadership when he was teaching Dumbledore’s Army and the time they shared their misery over their best friends dating.

Parvati Patil is currently Taken by Xy

#new rp #university rp #supernatural rp #harry potter rp #golden era rp #parvatipatil

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sirius · 5 years

Text

Chaos Theory Part 10

Pairing: Cedric Diggory x Reader, Harry Potter x Reader, Draco Malfoy x Reader, George Weasley x Reader

Warnings: Drug mention, swearing

Word Count: 7732 (fuck me)

A/N: Right, guys. 7,732 words is the longest fic I’ve ever written. I can’t even rn...I’m so tired and I’ve been working like so hard on this chapter and Young gods I’ve stocked up on tequila and vodka lol so after the next two chapters are released I can have a fucking Fiesta !! Just an FYI things are gonna start getting darker now. Also, I know Luke is supposed to look different for everyone but I think I’ve deserved using a gif of Noah Centineo bc he’s so cute and i love him sm, and given that I’ve written about Luke’s birthday, I think he should claim the header for now. Anyway, here we go. Happy B’day Lukey :)

This chapter is dedicated to my sister, Mariana ‘Maia/Maui’ Tori - I loved you then, I love you now, and I’ll love you always. RIP belle fiore 🥀 1996 - 2004

Chapter 10:

***

Friday, December 18th

***

The strange parcel arrives late at night with no return address.

You recognise the signature style all too quickly and your stomach curls in on itself, heart shuddering and throat constricting like a straw.

After weeks of silence, the mysterious sender is back again and it looks like they’ve upgraded from creepy photo to mysterious box.

It’s sitting on your bed like a plain, Pandora’s box, inviting you to open it and unleash a tempest of chaos. You approach it slowly, hesitantly, icy blood gushing through your crystallised veins like Antarctic waters travelling down the deltas of a cold-blooded monster. A part of you needs to see this; it could be clues, a lead, something that could aid you in this impossible investigation. But the other part of you is wary, perhaps even a little afraid, because you’re not sure if you’re prepared to face whatever is in this box.

Either way, you find yourself standing in front of it, peering down at the familiar scrawl written across the top, and you slice the string holding it together, gripping the lid and squeezing your eyes shut so you can muster up every single ounce of your Gryffindor courage, tearing the lid off and-

You gasp.

***

Thursday, December 10th

***

Unsurprisingly, news about the Yule Ball spread quicker than a wildfire, tangling the school in a sticky web of rumours and gossip.

It’s all Parvati, Padma and Lavender can talk about after your weekly Howler meeting, much to the dismay of Dean Thomas, who sits on the fringe of their conversation, looking equal parts exasperated and nervous while the girls whisper and giggle beside him.

You can’t exactly blame them. The Yule Ball at Hogwarts is combining two of the most whimsical events and squeezing them into one night. Celebrating Christmas while dressing up and dancing with your date? Of course, all the girls would be excited; it’s an excuse to dress up and spend the night with people you care about.

The boys, however, do not share the girl’s enthusiasm for the Ball. Flustered and nervous, a lot of the boys at Hogwarts have had difficulty approaching the subject of dates, since according to tradition, it’s their responsibility to find one.

Harry had been shocked when McGonagall told him that he would have to find a dancing partner after Transfiguration earlier today. As a Champion, he had no choice in the matter, which meant that if he didn’t find a partner soon, he’d risk embarrassing himself in front of the entire school.

Ron, too, was starting to grow anxious about who he would ask to the ball, and Hermione had become impatient with him. Honestly, you couldn’t blame her; she was the most obvious choice to ask, yet Ron continued to allow his obliviousness blind him from what’s right in front of him. Hermione had been tempted to slap both Ron and Harry around the head and point out that they didn’t have to look very far, but you had stopped her before she could. While it would be enjoyable to go with Harry, you were hoping to be asked by someone else...

A touch of worry pricks your chest. What if you don’t get asked by anyone? That was a possibility you hadn’t really considered, given that you had been clinging hopefully to the prospect of being asked by Cedric.

Though to be fair, both you and Cedric have been so caught up in school work and...extracurricular activities, you hadn’t even had an opportunity to talk to one another, let alone arrange a date. Still, you supposed that there was still just over a week until the Ball...plenty of time to arrange a date...

“-hoping for a new camera for Christmas, mine is looking a little shabby, though Noah says that’s okay as long as it functions properly,” Colin Creevey says, excitedly, rambling at a million miles per hour, “He doesn’t really talk that much, does he? But he takes really good photos. I wonder if he could take a photo of me and Dennis with Harry? That would be awesome! Though I do feel a bit sorry for him, I heard that his sister-”

Your mind drifts again, eyes travelling past Colin and spotting Dean in the distance. He waves you over desperately, a pleasing expression written across his face.

“-isn’t that sad? She was always really nice to me so when Professor Dumbledore announced that she had died last year, I was really quite shocked. Nice of Professor Dumbledore to pay his respects to her, eh? He’s such a great Headmaster, he’s made Dennis and I feel at ease-”

“-That reminds me!” You interrupt, hurriedly, “I have to quickly speak to Dean about...something that Professor Dumbledore wanted so I’ll just-”

“Oh, yeah?” Colin asks, cheeks dimpled and eyes wide, “That’s so cool! Dean is such a great artist, he’s going to go far. Hey, I wonder if Harry has seen any of his work. Maybe I should ask Dean to sketch a picture of me and Harry together? Do you think Harry would like that for Christmas? You’d know best, you and Harry are basically-”

“-Yeah, that’s great,” you interrupt, hastily, already walking away from Colin, “See you Colin!”

Colin waves cheerily at you and plods away, approaching Juniper and Daisy and launching into a rambling lecture. You bite your lip, guilt plucking your chest. He really is a sweet boy, little Colin Creevey, who has idolised Harry since Colin arrived at Hogwarts. Leaving him feels mean, but you have a feeling that he could chat to you about everything and nothing for hours on end and still not tire out.

Ignoring your guilt and Colin’s excited voice that carries across the room, you approach Dean, who looks grateful at your arrival.

“Excited for the ball?” You tease, arching a coy eyebrow and Dean sighs.

“I can’t concentrate with the girls gossiping beside me,” Dean groans, rubbing soothing circles into his temples.

You shrug, sliding onto his desk and toying subconsciously with a loose fabric on your skirt, “You got to admit though, it is pretty exciting. Rumour has it that Celestine Warbeck is going to perform.”

Dean rolls his eyes, “Pretty sure that’s still just a rumour.”

You give an exaggerated sigh, as though severely disappointed by this news, “Yeah. But it’d be nice though, right?”

Dean grins, “Oh boy, if that were true, I would be way more excited for this ball thingy.”

“I think everyone would be.”

“I don’t think it’s possible for the girls to be more excited than they already are.”

“Oh trust me, you’d be surprised.”

Dean snorts, studying you for a moment, his dark eyes glittering amicably, “I don’t suppose anyone’s asked you yet, have they?”

This time, it’s your turn to snort, “Oh, please Dean. I’ve been getting offers left, right and centre. I practically had to sneak my way here to avoid being swarmed by them all...” you pause for comedic effect, “...not.”

Dean chuckles, rolling his quill between his fingers, “Well, if you don’t get asked soon - which, I mean, you totally will get asked I’m not saying you’re not - I mean-you're pretty so I’m sure you’ll get offers - not that I think you’re pretty because - I mean - we’re just good friends - but I don’t think you’re ugly - you’re definitely not ugly I can tell you that right now - I mean -”

You raise your brows expectantly at him, smirking as you watch Dean sputter and stumble over his words. After another few seconds of spluttering, you finally decide to intervene, amused by his awkwardness.

“Dean Thomas, are you trying to ask me to the Ball?”

Dean averts his gaze, staring at his quill. The conversation beside you has gone quiet, the three girls pausing mid-sentence to eavesdrop on your conversation. Dean exhales a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yes,” he mumbles, “I’m asking you to the ball. But as friends!” He adds, briskly, shooting a look at the girls giggling beside him, “And as a...um...Plan B...”

You smile warmly at him, his offer and awkwardness endearing. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you give him a subtle wink and beam at him.

“I would be honoured to have you as my Plan B.”

A burst of girlish giggles bubble into the air around you, cutting off Dean’s relieved chortles. Parvati and Lavender are both red-faced, hands clamped across their lips in a failed attempt to muffle their giggles. Padma, however, is grinning teasingly, glancing between you and Dean.

“Aw,” she gushes, reaching out to ruffle both yours and Deans hair, “You guys would be so cute together.”

“As friends,” you add, hastily, “Dean is my good ol’ pal and the best back up plan I’ve ever had.”

Dean clutches his chest through his shirt, “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

You frown at him, though you can’t stop the grin stretching across your lips, “I think you need to find yourself some new friends, then.”

Dean shrugs, “I suppose I do.”

As Padma and Dean begin to chat amongst themselves, you allow your gaze to drift away from their conversation, spotting Noah in the corner of the room. He’s bent over a desk, staring intensely at some photos, hands pressed flat against the desk in front of him. His aviator's jacket is too big for him; it swamps around his tall and lithe form almost drowning him in leather and wool.

You make your way towards him and lean against the desk, peering down at the photos in front of him.

They’re scenic landscapes snapped from various spots around Hogwarts, though they look incredibly different, enhanced even, as though you’re looking at places you take for granted through a different lens. There’s a photo of the Whomping Willow, the Courtyard, Hagrid’s hut and an excitable Fang. Noahs even made Blast-Ended Skrewts look more interesting than ugly killing machines.

“You’re a really good photographer, you know,” you murmur, smiling down at Noah’s photos.

“These are nothing,” Noah mutters, apathetically, “The camera that Maia gave me could make these photos look like they were taken by six-year-olds mucking around with a cheap Kodak.”

You bite your lip, ignoring the obvious Muggle reference (what in Merlin’s name is a Kodak anyway?) and consider Noah carefully, “I’m sorry about your camera.”

Noah shrugs, “It’s not the camera that I’m worried about...”

You think about resting a comforting hand on his, but decide against it.

“I’m sorry about Maia, too.”

Noah swallows thickly and turns away. He’s silent for a long time, and you’re afraid you may have overstepped your boundaries when Noah rasps a reply.

“What is it that they say? Time will heal the scars,” he whispers, as though trying to convince himself that it’s true.

You chew the inside of your cheek, hesitating for a moment, before carefully stringing your next words together.

“What was Maia like?” You ask, warily, “I only met her twice and she seemed really nice...”

A ghost of a smile plays across Noah’s lips, “She was...funny, she’d make me laugh even when I didn’t want to. And she could be feisty, Christ, she was feisty, and so bloody bossy. I guess that’s why she was the Hufflepuff and I was the Slytherin because she was happy and free-spirited and she...” Noah bites his lip, as though stifling a laugh, “...she used to cry whenever she listened to Cat Stevens. And she had this thing about collars - they always had to be folded back otherwise they’d annoy her. And photos, she loved photos but she couldn’t take one to save her life. They’d always come out blurry or dark or off centre and she’d always laugh...”

Noah pauses in thought, as though sinking into sepia-stained memories. He allows himself a tiny smile, “Maia always said that I’d be the photographer in the family. That was what she wanted for me. She was going to be a teacher and I was going to be a famous photographer.”

Noah blinks and averts his gaze, turning away from you.

“You were the first person who said that to me, you know,” he whispers, voice hoarse, “That night when Dumbledore...” he trails off, blinking hard. He turns back to you, black eyes shimmering with something you don’t quite recognise, and he’s close enough for you notice for the first time that he has a scar knitted into his left eyebrow, “Everyone else thinks I’m a weirdo or that I ki-“

Noah suddenly cuts himself off, as though in realisation. His expression flickers, anger suddenly shadowing his face, and he turns to glare angrily at you.

“Don’t- Don’t do that!” he snaps, pointing a shaky finger at you, and you frown at him, confused.

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“Make me tell you things about...” he blinks, black eyes glinting dangerously, “...about Maia and me and-and make it seem like you care when you don’t! You’re-you’re just like everyone else, like Delores and-and Malfoy and her stupid boyfriend and everyone who didn’t give a shit about Maia when she was alive!”

You try to reach out and pat him but before you can even touch him, Noah flinches, as though he’s expecting you to hit him. Red stains his cheeks in shame as he backs away from you, a distant touch of fear creeping into his eyes. He retreats hurriedly, nearly stumbling out of the door, and you try to follow him when someone catches your wrist.

You glance behind you, finding Troy’s wrist gently pulling you back. He looks both worried and sympathetic as he releases your wrist, fiddling with the paintbrush behind his ear.

“He needs space,” Troy explains, “Space and time. Noah strikes me as the kind of person who likes to keep things bottled up.”

You nod in understanding, chewing your bottom lip thoughtfully, “Do you know who Delores is? Noah mentioned her just now...”

Troy hesitates, as though unsure whether it's his place to say. He concedes after a moment of silent deliberation, “Delores is Noah’s mother. Maia told me about her. They have a...troubled relationship-”

“His mother is a junkie who cares more about her current boyfriend and getting high than she does about her own kids,” Daisy drawls, bluntly, suddenly appearing at your side, “Maia used to ask me to keep an eye on him, make sure the other kids don’t bully him because he gets enough of that from home.”

“Oh...” you murmur, slowly.

“Yeah,” Troy says, staring at his feet.

An uncomfortable silence passes between the three of you as you stand in a circle, processing what had just happened. Daisy leaves as abruptly as she came, stalking across the room to Juniper’s side. Troy has his hands in his pockets, rubbing his shoes together before he smiles and nods at something behind you.

“I think you have a little visitor,” Troy beams. You spin around and grin, crouching down to welcome Nightshade into your arms.

“What are you doing here, B?” You coo, kissing Nightshade on her head. She rubs herself against your leg, tail curling in the air and she purrs and meows at you.

You scratch her ear, fingers grazing against her collar before you spot something folded inside her bell. Frowning, you carefully pull away a small piece of paper and you unfold it, nervously, hoping with all your might it isn’t related to the photo pinned to your investigation board and you stare down at it, taking in the familiar writing and you-

You smile, bite your lip, watching as dozens of tiny, red hearts shudder to life and flutter off the page like butterflies in the spring. You watch as they spell out words in mid air, tracing around invisible letters until they form a coherent sentence that reads, in unmistakable cursive writing;

Will you go to the Ball with me?

You laugh, recognising the style of it all, knowing the only person who is capable at something so sweet and romantic is-

“Will you go to the Ball with me?”

Cedric Diggory.

The heart butterflies scatter, fluttering away as though being carried away in a summer breeze. Cedric standing at the end of the hallway, grinning broadly at you. He strides toward you in smooth movements, one arm bent behind his back, beaming brightly, his blue eyes never straying from yours. A tiny laugh of disbelief slips from your lips as you smile, gazing lovingly at him until he stops right in front of you.

Cedric stretches out the arm bent behind his back, brandishing a cupcake with a giant, red love heart planted on top, holding it to his face as he awaits your answer.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, swept away by the dramatics, “Are-are you bribing me with food?”

Cedric chuckles lightly, “I knew that this would be the driving force that would compel you to come with me.”

“You must really want me as your date,” you murmur, a simpering smile curling graciously across your lips.

“More than anything,” Cedric whispers, gazing at you longingly. His blue eyes sparkle like sunlight dancing off the ocean. He’s absolutely mesmerising...

“Okay,” you giggle, suddenly giddy, “I’ll come with you to the Ball.”

Cedric sweeps you into his arms and twirls you around in a hug. You shriek a laugh as he lifts you off your feet, hands buried in his hair as he spins you before placing you gently on your feet. He grins goofily, eyes narrowing on your lips, hungry for a kiss you are all too willing to give him, and you reach up, wrapping your arms around his neck, guiding his lips onto yours until-

“Ahem.”

Troy clears his throat.

Cedric reluctantly pulls away from you as you crane your neck, suddenly remembering that Troy is there.

“I’ll...give you guys some privacy,” Troy mumbles, cheeks pink. He steps back into the Newsroom and closes the door and you turn back to Cedric.

“So...” you start, slowly, “Are we going to...?” You nod at the cupcake still in Cedric's hand. Cedric laughs.

“Oh,” He says, “Right.”

Nightshade meows, gazing up at Cedric with large, green eyes, staring at the cupcake longingly.

“I guess you deserve a treat or two,” Cedric says, crouching down to feed a piece of cupcake. She eats from his hand, carefully licking the tiny crumbs from his palm as Cedric strokes her head.

You beam at Cedric as you watch him affectionately scratch Nightshade, heart swelling like a balloon, suddenly understanding the excitement surrounding the Yule Ball and making a mental note to tell Dean that you won’t need a Plan B anymore...

***

Thursday December 17th

***

You wake up early on the morning of Luke’s birthday, grinning from ear-to-ear.

As per the usual birthday tradition, you had picked out the most ugliest Christmas sweater you could find - complete with itchy wool and an unflattering turtleneck collar - and had wrapped it in embarrassingly bright wrapping paper. You can just imagine Luke’s face when he unwraps it; contorting in both disgust and amusement but holding it to his chest.

The rules were that he had to wear the sweater all day for the entire day, no excuses. Last year, McGonagall had been so unimpressed, she had nearly begged Luke to burn the sweater to a crisp and had threatened to send him to detention for the day if he didn’t.

But that wasn’t the only birthday tradition the Arden siblings had amongst themselves.

They also had to bake the worst tasting birthday cake with whatever they could find and dare each other to eat it. Once, you had baked a cake during the holidays using eggs, tomato sauce, flour, mushrooms, oats, sugar, spearmint and hot sauce and saved it for Luke’s birthday. When you had dared Luke to eat a slice, Luke, never one to turn down a challenge, had devoured the entire thing. He had then spent the next hour bent over a toilet bowl but, really, that was his own doing. You had only dared him to eat one slice, not the whole damn thing.

This year was no different; you have to keep to the Arden tradition and bake a disgusting cake. The problem is, you don’t know where the kitchens are. Last year, you had made it ahead of time and had preserved it using a cooking charm (perhaps that was why Luke reacted so...violently to it) but this year, you had been more preoccupied and less organised.

You make your way down to the Common Room, wondering how you’re going to sneak into the boy's dormitory and steal the Marauders Map when you suddenly run into a tall and firm figure.

“Woah,” you gasp under your breath, staggering backwards. A strong arm catches you by your arm before you can fall flat on your ass.

“Sorry,” George Weasley snickers, “I didn’t see you there; you’re kind of tiny, (Y/N). You’re definitely a tripping hazard.”

You scowl at him and rearrange your clothes, ironing your skirt with the palms of your hands.

“Anyone tell you you’re a class A asshole?”

“On many occasions, actually,” George grins, then shrugs, “Sticks and stones.”

“Whatever works for you,” you snip, a smirk tugging on the corners of your lips, “Anyway, what are you doing here so early?”

“We could ask you the same thing,” says Fred, sauntering toward you.

“I’m baking a cake for Luke,” you explain, grinning, “It’s his birthday and we usually bake each other really disgusting cakes and get each other terrible gifts. It’s kind of an Arden thing.”

Fred and George exchange a mischievous glance.

“Sounds like you need to head to the kitchens,” Fred smirks down at you,

“You guys know where it is?” You ask, hopefully, and Fred nods.

“Ready for a private tour?” George asks, grinning devilishly, his eyes shimmering and a thrill courses through you.

You beam at him.

***

The kitchens look like they’ve just crawled out of Hermione’s worst nightmares.

House-elves are everywhere; bustling around the large kitchens, looking harried but content as they buzz around the room. They work around you, occasionally rushing up to you to offer you various sweets and treats, practically imploring you with round orbs to enjoy their homemade delicacies.

You’ve learned that it’s better just to accept the cakes and cookies instead of politely declining, and you enjoy the ones you’ve gathered with Fred and George as you sit in front of a large oven, watching Luke’s cake swell inside of the cake tin.

“I’m surprised it’s actually baking,” George observes, nodding at the oven, “Are we sure that’s even a cake in there?”

“If it has flour, egg, milk and sugar, then it’s a cake,” you state, biting into a cookie and moaning in delight, “These cookies are to die for.”

“Right?” Fred marvels in agreement, “I mean, they’re not as good as Mums but they’re still pretty darn good.”

Your eyes flutter closed and a smile stretches across your lips as you chew languidly on another cookie, savouring the sweet flavour as it oozes onto your tongue. You hum in delight again as you begin licking chocolate off the tips of your fingers.

You open your eyes and catch George watching you with a strange expression on his face. He boldly maintains eye contact, something unfamiliar flashing in his pupils.

Fred glances between the two of you, intrigued, “I’m going to go take some of these to Lee,” he announces, standing and stretching.

You break away from George and watch him as he leaves.

“That was odd,” You note, frowning as the portrait door closes shut.

“Fred is a bit of an oddity anyway,” George shrugs, sliding closer to you, “How’s that cake going?”

You peer through the glass, studying the cake, “Honestly? I don’t know, though I want it to burn so I guess another twenty minutes or so.”

You turn back to George, whose scoffing down an incredible amount of cookies.

“So, you excited for the Ball?” He asks through a mouthful of cookies.

You grin uncontrollably, “Yeah, I am.”

“Found anyone to go with?”

“Yeah,” You slide your bottom lip between your teeth, “I’m going with Cedric.”

George stops cramming cookies into his mouth and swallows, forcing a strained smile onto his lips.

“Oh. That’s...good.”

You shrug meekly, trying not to appear as giddy as you feel, “Yeah. Are you going with anyone?”

“Uh-Harper Shacklebolt.”

You nearly choke on your laughter, “What?! You managed to convince Harper Shacklebolt to leave the Newsroom?”

George flashes a devilish grin, “Well, it wasn’t that hard. I just had to turn up the old Weasley twin charm and she was practically falling for me.”

You roll your eyes, chortling at George’s confidence, “Huh, interesting. Well, you might have some competition. Did you know Harper has a pen pal?”

“Is that so?” George arches an eyebrow, intrigued, “And who would that be?”

“Someone with the initials ‘O.W.’, which could only be-”

“Oliver Wood,” George’s lips break into a smirk, chortles slipping from his lips, “I can’t see that lasting too long. They’re both stubborn and passionate about other things. Wasn’t Harper and Luke a thing for a while?”

You bark a laugh, “Ha. Luke and Harper? Harper is so out of Luke’s league, he’d probably have to pinch his dick to make sure he isn’t dreaming.”

George laughs at that, and the sound travels through you, glowing in your chest and probing your own laughter to spill from your lips.

“Must have just been some silly rumours,” George shrugs, “By the way, I think his cake is burning.”

You turn back to the oven as smoke begins to bleed through the cracks in the oven, filling the air with a horrid, acrid smell.

“Yup, that would be about right,” You chortle, grinning, “He’s going to love it.”

***

Luke is on his way to the library when you spot him.

He’s pacing down the hallway, moving quickly, and you nearly have to break into a sprint just to catch up with him. It’s a little uncharacteristic, given that he usually saunters lazily but in a businesslike manner. Casual, but cool and composed.

Today, he’s in a rush, taking long, deliberate strides and not giving you a chance to catch your breath as you struggle to catch up to him.

He rounds the corner, and you’re about to call out to him when someone else beats you to it, cutting you off with a thick, smokey accent.

“I vas beginning to zink you vere going to flake on me, Lukas!”

Kazimir Volkov strolls up to him, smirk like a sharp dash across his lips. He looks impressive and menacing, but Luke isn’t afraid.

Kaz stops right in front of Luke, eyes flashing with something both dangerous and alluring, as though he’s trying to assert his dominance but is also trying to seduce Luke into relaxation.

Luke stops, glancing around furtively. When he’s certain that no one is looking, Luke’s composure relaxes, steel melting off his shoulders like mercury. He greets Kaz like an old friend, nodding at him and flashing a charming smile. Curious, you press yourself against the wall, peeking out from behind it.

Luke leans forward, speaking in an undertone.

“I thought we agreed to talk in Russian?”

Kaz’s smirk broadens, “Why, you don’t vant anyone knowing zat Hogvart’s Golden Boy is up to no good?”

“Well, yeah,” Luke snips, a little impatiently, “I mean, it’s more about my sister than anything. If she knew…”

“She’d understand,” Kaz murmurs, then shrugs, “But if zat’s what you vant...”

Luke and Kaz begin covering in Russian, speaking rapidly. You furrow your brows, straining to listen to their conversation, but you never learnt Russian and they’re speaking too fast for you to pick up on any familiar sounding words.

Two words pop out from their conversation; you only recognise them because they are repeated by both Kaz and Luke; krov' Niks

Krov Niks…? What the heck is that supposed to mean?

Sighing, you’re just about to leave when Kaz suddenly retrieves something from the inside of his Durmstrang robes. You squint, leaning forward, spotting a small vial with black, glittering liquid inside. It resembles melted obsidian; sunlight bounces off small flecks of silver and gold.

Luke takes the vial and pockets it, nodding at Kaz in gratitude.

You flatten your back against the wall, thinking fast. What kind of potion could Luke possibly want that he couldn’t brew himself? What is he up to? And why does he have to keep it a secret when you’ve never let any secrets stand between the two of you–?

“Lulu!”

You jump, startled by Luke’s surprised voice, a fleeting look of panic flitting across his face. Your mouth flaps open, searching desperately for a good excuse, momentarily forgetting about the gifts in your hand until Luke’s gaze drops to them.

“Oh!” You bleat, nervously, “Oh I was…looking for you because I – uh – it’s your birthday and I wanted to give you your birthday presents…”

“Oh,” Luke says, biting his lip nervously, “Thanks.”

You hand him his sweater and cake and iron your clammy hands on your skirt, “Happy Birthday.”

Luke balances his presents on one hand and ruffles your hair with the other, “Thanks, (Y/N). I can’t wait to try what delicious, home-baked cake you conjured up for me this year.”

“Fred and George helped me whip it up,” you smirk, teasingly.

“Ah,” Luke nods, mirroring your smirk, “Well, then, it’ll be a masterpiece.”

Luke lassos you into a one-armed hug, pulling you to his chest, and for a moment, you forget about that strange vial in Luke’s pocket.

***

Friday, December 18th

***

The last day of term ends with a gruelling test on Antidotes in Potions.

Fortunately, you had studied hard for this test; it was hard to do anything other than study when your best friend is Hermione Granger. But your hard work paid off in the end, earning you full marks from a somewhat sour Snape.

“I see you’ve proven to be worth more than just a pretty face,” Snape has grumbled, peering down into your cauldron after class, “All that time spent with Granger must have rubbed off on you.”

You had screwed your jaw shut in an effort to stop yourself from snapping back at Snape, knowing that your marks and House Points were worth more than any retort you could have possibly sassed back.

“Actually, Professor,” you grit, through a clenched jaw, “I was wondering if you could tell me about a Potion that…looks black with silver and gold speckles in it?”

Professor Snape frowns, evidently in thought. After a moment of silence, Snape speaks in his usual, oily tone, “Nyx’s blood. It’s a difficult potion to brew, used as both a narcotic and a healing potion. It also happens to be illegal in the United Kingdom.” Snape arches a thin, black eyebrow in suspicion, “Why would you want to know about Nyx’s blood?”

“Um…” you begin, cursing yourself for not stringing a proper excuse together, “Um, I–”

“Severus!” Hisses a sharp, accented voice from behind you. Snape’s black eyes travel past you and you follow his line of sight, finding Karkaroff at the end of it. Karkaroff glances between you and Snape.

“You may leave, Arden,” Snape drawls, sourly, dismissing you with a scowl. You nod, slinging your book bag over your shoulder and rushing out of the dungeons, exhaling a sigh of relief.

As they promised, Ron, Harry and Hermione are waiting outside for you.

“So, what did Snape want?” Ron pries, softly patting the top of your head.

“Oh, nothing,” you sigh, “He just wanted to have a word with me about my Potion.”

“How did you think you went with that?” Ron asks, considering you curiously. You shrug.

“Well, I followed everything as per the instructions but it’s Snape so I’m not sure.”

You glance at Harry, who has remained uncharacteristically quiet for most of the day.

“How did you think you went, Harry?” You ask, loud enough to snap him out of his thoughts.

“I botched it,” Harry confesses, though he doesn’t seem too worried about it at all, “I don’t really care, though.”

“Well you should,” Hermione chides, loftily, “Potions is a core subject in our curriculum. If we don’t pass Potions, we lose a huge percentage of our end of year scores.”

“Which means Snape will look bad enough for Dumbledore to finally fire the git,” Ron mutters in your ear, grinning. You snort a laugh and nudge him in the ribs, earning a yelp of surprise.

“You’re trouble, Ronald Weasley,” you murmur back, snickering.

“Arden!”

You pause, Ron, Harry and Hermione stilling, too. A familiar prickle of agitation threads itself beneath your skin as you recognise the familiar voice and wheel around to face him.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” you practically spit, watching as Draco, Crabbe and Goyle saunter towards you. He’s sneering, but there is an indisputable touch of worry in his eyes.

“You,” Draco snips, “Alone without your little guard dogs to defend you.”

His cold, pale eyes dart between Ron and Harry. Ron steps forward.

“She’s not going anywhere with you,” Ron snarls, darkly, stretching out a protective arm as if to shield you.

“Funny, I didn’t realise you were her keeper,” Draco snaps, venomously, “Are you really that poor you have to start working for your friends, Weasel?”

Crabbe and Goyle snigger gleefully. You roll your eyes and tap Ron’s arm gently.

“I’ll be fine,” you coo, reassuring both Ron and Harry. They nod in unison.

“I’ll take your book bag,” Hermione offers, and you hand her your bag gratefully, “We’ll see you at dinner.”

You nod and watch them leave, forcing a soft smile onto your lips when Harry glances back at you over his shoulder. You turn back to Malfoy moments later, glowering at him.

“Okay, you’ve got me,” you snip, harshly, “Now, tell me what it is that you want?”

Draco glances behind him at Crabbe and Goyle and flaps a dismissive hand at them, silently shooing them off. They stump away, pushing past other students and knocking frightened First Years aside.

When he’s sure it’s just the two of you, Draco, takes a few steps toward you, bowing his head so he can catch your eyes, “I wanted to ask you something.”

“If it has something to do with Noah Underwood, I don’t want to hear it,” you snap, sternly, “The guy is going through enough as it is, he doesn’t need you to keep snooping around like he’s some sort of criminal-”

“-Will you go to the Ball with me?”

Your lashes flutter rapidly as you blink at Draco once, twice, again. His cheeks are beginning to flush an interesting shade of pink.

“What?”

Draco rolls his eyes, “Don’t make me ask you again, Arden, you heard me.”

You stare at him quizzically, bemused by his request. Why would Draco want to ask you to the Ball? Was this a prank? A joke? A trick question or a weird way to humiliate you? You frown at him, thinking hard, raking your eyes across every inch of his face and scrutinising him carefully in the low, flickering lights of the dungeons, mind sprinting through a million theories at once until-

Laughter bubbles up your throat on impulse and spills from your lips, echoing through the Dungeons.

Draco blinks, taken aback.

“Very funny, Malfoy,” you chortle, sighing, and Draco glowers at you.

“This isn’t a joke, Arden!” Draco snaps, angrily.

Your laughter dies on the tip of your tongue when you realise he’s serious and you scoff in cold indignation.

“Why would I want to go to the Ball with you, Draco?” You spit, coldly, venom dripping from your words, “You seem to relish in bullying me and my friends, particularly Harry. So give me one good reason why I should even consider coming with you when all you are is a jealous, spoilt and arrogant bully with a chip on his shoulder.”

Draco’s eyes glimmer like light bouncing off the tip of a blade. He opens his mouth then closes it, working around words he doesn’t want to say, doesn’t want to give a voice to, before he works his jaw and flares his nostrils and twists his lips into a frown.

“Never mind,” he snarls, bitterly, “I shouldn’t have bothered asking someone who parades around Potter like some loyal, little bitch.”

Before you can give him an angry retort, Draco storms away, fists clenched at his sides as though he wants to smash something.

Who are you kidding? You want to smash something.

Perplexed and incensed, you march out of the Dungeons and make your way toward the Great Hall for dinner, wondering what the fuck just happened.

***

After dinner with Hermione, the pair of you wander back to the common room, in which you explain everything that had happened with Malfoy earlier. Hermione had struggled to contain her gleeful giggles as she listened, which was as infuriating as it was embarrassing.

“Malfoy fancies you, (Y/N),” she manages through a bout of giggles, “That’s why he asked you. He’s always had a soft spot for you.”

“Oh don’t be so silly!” You dismiss her with a slap to her shoulder, “Malfoy was probably just mucking around.”

“But you said-”

“I know what I said,” you snip, warmth creeping up your neck and spilling across your cheeks, “But Draco Malfoy does not fancy me!”

Hermione bites down on a grin, swallowing the rest of her giggles and slinging an arm across your shoulders, “Whatever you say, (Y/N).”

You and Hermione reach the portrait of the Fat Lady and find her laughing boisterously with her friend, Violet. They both look rather tipsy in their tinsel crowns, faces flushed and words slurred.

“Fairy Lights,” you utter, speaking loudly so that she can hear you over Violet’s loud cackles.

“Aren’t they jus - hic - Magical,” the Fat Lady sighs, and you and Hermione exchanged an amused look as she swings open, admitting you into the common room.

You and Hermione climb through the portrait hole, entering the dim common room and spotting Harry, Ron and Ginny sitting by the fire.

“There they are!” Hermione says, pointing at the two snickering boys and an irritated-looking Ginny.

“Why weren’t you two at Dinner?” You ask, curiously dropping into a seat beside Harry. The two boys don’t seem to hear you, your voice drowned out by their laughter.

“Because - oh shut it, you two - because they both just got rejected by girls they asked to the Ball!” Ginny snaps, shooting a particularly nasty look to Ron and Harry.

You snort a laugh, slapping a hand across your mouth to smother your giggles as Ron glares at Ginny.

“Thanks a bunch, Ginny,” Ron grumbles, sourly, cheeks red beneath his freckles.

“All the good-looking ones taken, Ron?” Hermione snips, smirking bitterly, a touch of sardonic insolence in her tone, “Eloise Midgen starting to look a great deal prettier now isn’t she? Well, I’m sure you’ll find someone somewhere who’ll have you, it serves you right for being so snotty.”

Usually, Ron would snap back with something snappy. But Hermione’s snide remark seems to slide off Ron, who’s staring at the two of you as though a certain realisation had just dawned on him.

“Hermione, (Y/N), you’re both girls-”

“-Oh well spotted,” Hermione barks, coldly.

“You guys can come with us! Hermione can come with me and (Y/N) can go with-“

“I can’t,” you and Hermione both snap at the same time. You both exchange a glance.

“Why not?” Ron says, impatiently, “Look, Harry and I are going to look really stupid if we don’t find partners - especially Harry-“

“I - we - can’t come with you,” Hermione interrupts, blushing furiously, “Because we - I - am already going with someone!”

“No you’re not!” Ron says, scandalously, “You only said that to get rid of Neville!”

“How dare you, Ron?!” Hermione seethes, her eyes glinting dangerously, “How dare you think that, just because it takes you three years to notice, doesn’t mean no one else has spotted I’m a girl!”

Ron gaped at her in disbelief, before his shock melted into a grin.

“Ok, Fine, you’re a girl we get it. Now will you come with us?”

Hermione springs to her feet, fists shaking at her sides, “I told you already that I’m going with someone else, and if that’s so hard to believe I suggest that you get over yourself!”

Hermione storms away angrily, stomping up the stairs to the girls' dormitory.

“Now look what you’ve done!” You snap, glowering at Ron, “She wasn’t lying!”

Ron shakes his head, “Who is she going with then?”

You fold your arms across your chest, glaring at Ron angrily, “She obviously doesn’t want you to know, so I’m not going to tell you.”

Ron rolls his eyes and sighs, “This is getting stupid, Ginny can go with Harry and (Y/N) can come with me-”

“-No, Ron, weren’t you listening?” You snip, icily, “I’m already going with someone.”

You leap to your feet and march toward the winding staircase, intent on pursuing Hermione.

“Wait!” Harry calls out and you pause, wheeling around to face him, “Who-who are you going with?”

You hesitate, biting down on your bottom lip hard before unfurling it, “Cedric. I’m going with Cedric Diggory.”

Not waiting to see their reaction at this news, you spin around and scale the winding staircase, an uncomfortable warmth soaking your cheeks. Why did Ron have to be such a giant prat? He could be so incredibly mean to Hermione at times and completely oblivious to everything around him.

You come to a stop outside of your dorm and knock gently, cracking your knuckles against the wood of the doors.

“Hermione? Can I come in?” You ask, softly, carefully.

“You’d better,” says Hermione’s voice from behind the door, all traces of her anger having already left her voice, “There’s-there’s something here for you...”

Frowning, you pull open the door, spotting Hermione standing in front of your bed.

“Why? What is it-?”

You pause, your words forming an uncomfortable lump in the middle of your throat.

A strange box is sitting on your bed, practically screaming trouble.

“Someone must have brought it up here,” Hermione deduces, studying the box carefully, “It would have taken at least three owls to send it...”

You recognise the signature style all too quickly and your stomach curls in on itself, heart shuddering and throat constricting like a straw.

After weeks of silence, the mysterious sender is back again and it looks like they’ve upgraded from creepy photo to mysterious box.

You gasp.

Oh.

“What is it?” Hermione asks, mincing hurriedly to your side.

“Oh,” she gasps, “Let’s-Let’s take it out.”

You do, pulling it from the box and holding it out in front of you. Hermione gasps again, raising a hand to cover her mouth.

“It’s beautiful,” she sighs, lips breaking into a smile.

You couldn’t agree more.

The dress is dripping with soft flowers and thin, curling vines, like gold veins running beneath ivory skin. The tulle cascades in soft waves to the floor, flowing through your arms like water. It’s elegant, dainty, feminine and incredibly expensive.

Hurrying to the full-length mirror, you hold the dress to your body, admiring how the style compliments your complexion. White diamonds wink at you from the centre of the dozens of flowers planted on the fabric.

“There’s a note, too!” Hermione exclaims, handing you a folded piece of parchment. You carefully take the letter from her outstretched hand, unfolding it with a smile.

My Dearest Belle Fiore,

Your mother once said that you were the ‘fiore of her life’, and she was right. You were the fiore of her life, and I have watched you blossom into the beautiful rose you are today. I couldn’t be more proud of the young woman you have become, and I will always be proud of you until my dying breath.

I know your mother would want you to wear this to your first ball; it was her wedding dress. But now, it’s yours, and I’ll know you’ll treasure it as much as the beloved bracelet she bestowed to you.

I wish I could see you in it but, unfortunately, the Prophet demands my time and energy. But I know you will be the most beautiful fiore in the entire garden, with or without this dress.

I love you now and always,

Papa

You blink through tears, clutching the letter tightly in your hands.

Your mother had worn this dress; her hair had flowed over it, her skin had warmed the delicate fabric and her wild and boundless heart - that heart that could swallow the world - had hummed beneath it like a hummingbird in her chest.

You clutch the dress a little tighter, embracing it, feeling a new kind of warmth gush through you like butterbeer and sunlight. Its as though your mother is hugging you back, holding you to her chest so you can listen to her hummingbird heart one last time.

In that moment, it’s as though your mother is alive again.

@marauderskeeper @weaselby418 @acciorinn @hervench @theseusscamandcr @depressed-octopods-art @steph-fowlie @lilulo-12 @randomfangirl117 @asofslytherin @seunlight @thebesteleganttrashyouseen @elsie2018 @polkadotfairyposts @hylianhighlander @dracosdoves @siriuswitches @bernadineisreborn @lousimusician @randomoutsiders @smolldork @danidomm @xrosegoldwolfx @ashkuuuu @sly-vixen-up2nogood @reimiwritrs @tchalland @lucifersnipnips @ notorious-fiction @peppermintspecks @sleep-i-ness @reducto-bitch

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headcanonsandmore · 5 years

Note

How about all the school being crazy when Ron is "Smth Harry will miss most" and talking and supporting and making laught about this? Also Dambldor ships Rarry, obviously

Thanks for the request, anon! Hope you like this!

It was the talk of theschool.

The one ship.

That couple that no-onecould stop talking about.

The boy who lived andhis best friend; the person he would miss most in all the world.

The second Triwizard Taskhad resulted in a few different things. Firstly, that family members were ashoe-in for being a hostage. And second; that the significant other of thechampion in question was an automatic hostage.

Fleur had her little sister.

Cedric Diggory had ChoChang.

Viktor Krum had thatbushy-haired Gryffindor girl that he’d been on one date with. Which was alittle odd. Poor girl.

But Harry Potter? Hehad Ron Weasley.

So -naturally- therumour mill had gone into overdrive.

Was Ron Weasley Harry’ssecret lover? Were they a couple? When had that happened?

They had certainlyspent most of their time at the Yule Ball together, even though they’d haddates (the intelligent, beautiful Patel twins).

And no-one could denythat Ron and Harry weren’t close. They had been friends since they arrived atHogwarts. They were inseparable. They were dorm-mates.

Oh my god, they weredorm-mates…

The student body hadbecome obsessed with this new gossip. Harry Potter -the boy who lived- fallingin love with his best friend. The Weasley boy that no-one else gave a secondthought about.

Clearly, Ron wassomething special.

Those who had beenpresent at Hogwarts during Harry Potter’s first year vaguely remembered thatRon had defeated McGonagall’s giant chess set.

Students present duringthe heir of Slytherin incident remembered tales of Ron Weasley going down to theChamber of Secrets with Harry to rescue his little sister.

Yet -despite all this- TheWeasley boy was something of an anonymous figure. Always pushed to the side,and ignored.

Well, he wasn’t beingignored now, that’s for sure.

The entire schoolseemed to be watching him lately. Students stared after him, and spoke inexcited whispers as he passed them in the corridors with Harry and their friendHermione.

‘I cannot vouch for anyrumours regarding the relationship between Mr Potter and Mr Weasley,’ saidDumbledore, at breakfast one morning. But his beard failed to disguise the grinon his face. ‘It is their own personal affair.’

The students wonderedwhat meaning of “affair” he meant by that.

The rumours continuedto circulate, passing from person to person, until eventually, Parvati andLavender cornered Hermione in their dormitory and demanded to know what wasgoing on.

Needless to say, thebushy-haired witch was completely flabbergasted.

‘Are you two dating ornot?’ She enquired at her two friends the next day, looking a little left-out. ‘Becauseever since the second task, people keep thinking something is going on!’

Harry and Ron’s mouths promptlyfell open, and they both turned bright red.

To this day, no-one (includingHermione) is entirely sure either-way.

Thanks again for the request, anon; hope you liked this!

#request #anon #message #ask #rarry #harron #rarry?#harron?#ron and harry #ron and harry?#harry and ron #harry and ron?#the person harry potter would miss most #harry's wheezy #ron weasley #harry potter #harry potter headcanon #harry potter headcanons

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obsidianarchives · 5 years

Text

The Emancipation of Lav-Lav

Romilda Vane? Romilda Vane!!!

That couldn’t possibly be what he just said.

But he did! AND he pushed me out of the way!

Does he even know her? She’s a fourth year.

Today of all days. The nerve! The audacity!

I think you’re reading way more into this than you should be.

Lavender was pacing in her dormitory near her bed. A fierce mental battle raged inside her head. What started out as a cheery morning had once again been ruined by Ron. She had been planning the entire day, his birthday, for weeks now and he’d dismissed her without so much as a ‘hello’. In fact, he’d said, “Leave me alone.”

At the foot of her bed lay a tattered box and half of the curtains from her four-poster bed. The remnants of her angrily tossing Ron’s present across the room. He was so infuriating, but she couldn’t help feeling the way she did about him. At one time it had seemed that he always knew the right thing to do or say. It was as if he had read some sort of book on how to be the perfect boyfriend. Now however…there was no point in trying to figure out what she had done to annoy him this time. It never really made sense.

Casually flicking her wand, she repaired the curtains and slowly walked over to pick up the box. The corner of it had torn open and a portion of a Chudley Cannons jersey poked out. She had been so excited when the idea of a personalized jersey came to her mind shortly after the Christmas holiday. Poking the edge of a “W” back into the package, she reached under her bed and pulled out some tape and more wrapping paper. She would give him his present later.

The rest of the day seemed to move at an agonizing pace. Half-expecting Ron to show up with an apology, she decided to do what she always did when she felt down, her nails. Before she knew it, she had pulled out her manicure set and whipped up a nice cuticle cream. Feeling rather indecisive, she painted her nails in a gradient shade from teal to light purple. She was so caught up in what she was doing that she moved on to a pedicure and from there decided to deep condition her hair.

Laying across her bed, she flipped through magazines and scarfed down various snacks that she kept in her side table drawer. Crookshanks slank into the room silently, eying her bag of apple cinnamon rice cakes.

“I’m sorry, love,” she said, sweetly patting his head, “I’m pretty sure you can’t have these.”

Unperturbed by facts, Crookshanks meowed defiantly. His wide, yellow eyes pleaded imploringly.

Looking around the room for help and finding none, Lavender resigned.

“Accio cat food,” she said, slightly annoyed.

A small can zipped from under Hermione’s bed and into her hand. She popped it open and plopped its contents into the nearby pet bowl. Crookshanks mewing gratefully, nuzzled against her legs and bounded towards his meal.

What do you do all day? Lavender thought smiling, thinking of Crookshanks chasing butterflies out on the grounds.

“Hey!” said Parvati, appearing in the doorway, “I just heard about Ron, how’s he doing?”

—

Lavender’s heart seemed to fall into the deepest pit of her stomach. Frantically she had grabbed the nearest headwrap and found herself racing through the halls of Hogwarts towards the hospital wing. The mere idea that her boyfriend had been poisoned had made it easy to forget all that had transpired that morning. Panting and out of breath, she arrived at the double doors and peered through the small windows.

As far as she could tell, there seemed to be no shortage of Weasleys at his bedside. She noted the fiery red hair of his brothers, sister, and parents, the dark, untamed hair of his best friend, and the unmistakable cotton candy curls of her roommate, Hermione Granger. Catching the eye and raised eyebrow of Mrs. Weasley, Lavender realized that she had not been formally introduced to Ron’s parents. Concern bore its mark on their faces as they spoke in hushed tones, leaving Lavender unsure of what to do. She internally lamented over a scene she felt she belonged, but was most unwelcome to. A sting, which burned more intensely as she noticed Hermione solemnly holding Ron’s hand. Turning, she made to leave, jumping aside at the vastness of Hagrid’s frame. The gamekeeper quickly strode to the infirmary doors and burst through them, unaware of her presence.

Ron had once again become the talk of the school. News traveled fast throughout Hogwarts and Lavender found herself on the receiving end of everyone’s questions.

How is Ron?

What happened?

Do you think it was You-Know-Who?

What do you mean you don’t know? You’re his girlfriend, aren’t you?

As much as it pained her, “I don’t know” became her frequent answer. She didn’t know how Ron was. She didn’t know what happened exactly. For all she knew, it could’ve been You-Know-Who and she for damn sure didn’t know what her relationship status with Ron was. It was complicated.

She found herself frequently questioning Harry, which was of absolutely no use. He seemed just as clueless about her and Ron’s relationship as she was. She couldn’t bear to bring herself to make idle chit chat with Hermione, even if Ron’s life was on the line, and Ginny looked about as miserable as she felt. According to the gossip grapevine, her relationship with Dean wasn’t looking so great either.

Out of duty, she began to make more time during the day to pop in and sit at Ron’s bedside. She eagerly waited for him to wake but he always seemed to be sleeping when she arrived. Madam Pomfrey gave her taut yet kind smiles as she sat by his side. They felt both reassuring and judgmental. On Wednesday, Lavender found herself being woken gently by Madam Pomfrey. Visiting hours were over. The large platter of food that had been sitting uneaten when she arrived was now only filled with crumbs. Could he have woken up and not alerted her to it? He wouldn’t be that tactless.

After over a week of waiting for any sign of movement from her boyfriend, Lavender was surprised to find an empty bed in the hospital wing early Monday morning. Madam Pomfrey was unable to hide her surprise that Lavender did not know that Ron was being released from her care that day. Instead of dwelling on once again being out of the loop with her boyfriend’s antics, Lavender proceeded to make her way back to the common room.

As she approached the marble staircase, she heard his thunderous voice echoing in the halls and turned around. Ron, who had been talking animatedly, stopped in his tracks and stared guiltily at her. Harry and Hermione bowed their heads and quickly sped past her up the staircase.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were getting out today? And why is she with you?” Lavender heard herself say accusingly.

—

On the other side of empty words and promises, Lavender found herself silently sitting across the breakfast table from Ron, long after the poison scandal. Though she tried to cheer herself up with thoughts like, All couples have rough patches. She knew that this rough patch had gone on far too long. She knew what she had to do.

In preparation for the day’s events, Lavender had spent most of the previous morning investing in self care. Through owl correspondence, she had ordered Queenie’s Quick Braids and scheduled an early hair appointment in Hogsmeade with her stylist friend, Angelina. Two hours and some honey-blonde, waist-length braids later, she left feeling like a new and confident woman. She and Parvati spent the rest of the day in the dormitory wearing face masks, eating chocolate frogs, and looking over her and Ron’s birth charts — something that she promised herself that she would never do.

“Merlin help me,” she sighed as she flopped on the bed and covered her face with a pillow, “I knew it.” Removing the pillow, she examined it for signs of the deep-colored mask.

Parvati hopped slightly as Lavender made contact with the now bouncing bed and gave her a weary smile.

“P, how could I be so dumb?” she said, glancing at her friend.

“You are obviously not the dumb one here.” Parvati said, rolling her eyes at the thought of Ron.

“But, I’ve been — I’ve been CRAZY!” Lavender winced, “I mean...Won-Won?”

At this, Parvati burst into giggles and Lavender couldn’t help joining in. Their sidesplitting laughter engulfed the room and soon they were gasping for air until Lavender, in a wave of heaviness, felt near tears.

“P—” she started, frowning.

“Huh?” Parvati sat up, concern flooding her face.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been a great friend lately,” Lavender said shakily, “I haven’t been around and the whole Ron thing...I’m just…you know?” tears ran down her cheeks.

“No crying,” Parvati said with a slight tremor, ”We’re cool. We’re friends til the end and HE doesn’t deserve them.”

A pinky swear, hair flip, and teal-sparked handshake combination signaled that not only would they be best friends forever, but that all previous acts of friendship treachery were forgiven.

The fun concluded when Hermione entered the dormitory, walking cautiously with her head down. Tossing a pile of books onto her four-poster bed, signaling the return from another early hour visit to the library, she kept her back to them and began rummaging through her trunk silently. Parvati, looking apprehensively at Lavender, signaled that it was time to wash off the masks. She had taken it upon herself to prevent any sort of confrontation between her roommates for several months now.

In the restroom, Lavender found herself face to face with the enchanted vanity mirrors they had, with warm floating lights and each panel showing her face from a different glossy angle.

“Ugh. Show me the truth,” she said aloud, as she waited for the water to warm up.

The mirror slowly began to lose the filter-like quality and gone were the angles of her face, no longer presented from all sides, but staring straight ahead. Expecting the worst, Lavender had shut her eyes tightly. Slowly, she opened one eye at a time, revealing that she had not, in fact, turn into a troll overnight. The truth is, she had spent a lot of time crying over Ron and she was afraid that it showed. After washing off the mask, and a tap of her wand, warm towels appeared in a basket near the mirrors. She gently began to dry her face. With eyes fully covered, she heard a nearby scream.

Amity Orion, a second year, had entered the bathroom only to be confronted with the truth of the size and shape of an extremely large boil on her face that she had acquired from a backfiring liquid in Potions class. She hadn’t had the chance to apply the topical cream given to her by Madam Pomfrey.

“Oh. No!” Parvati shrieked, “I need this mirror to lie to me. At least until I get this mask off.”

She had returned from the toilets to this most unwelcome surprise, completely ignoring the distraught child in the corner. Lavender kindly told the mirror to return to its former enchantment.

By the time they returned from the washroom, fresh faced and no longer traumatized by their features, Hermione had once again left the room. Lavender vowed silently to try to have a conversation with her soon.

—

Warm weather had arrived at Hogwarts, hinting at the rapidly approaching end of term. The sun beckoned students outside to enjoy its warm embrace on this bright and beautiful day. A day that Parvati unfortunately would be missing out on, as she and Padma had already planned to spend the afternoon studying in the library. Lavender thought better of joining them. She had already finished her upcoming assignments and had the sneaking suspicion that Padma wouldn’t be so happy to see her. Parvati had spent a lot more time with her sister and her Ravenclaw friends while Lavender was under the “Weasley spell” as it had been dubbed and rudely laughed about throughout Hogwarts.

Wrapping her hair and securing it into a bun, she made quick work of getting ready for the day. Her skin had a dewy glow reminiscent of a veela thanks to the mask from the day before. Deciding to go with minimal makeup, she chose a nice brown shade for her lips and some eyeliner. By the time Parvati came to the bathroom she was putting on the finishing touches: a bit of Sleakeazy’s for her edges and a sweet pair of crescent moon earrings. A Christmas gift from her thick-headed boyfriend. They had arrived sans note at the foot of her bed Christmas morning. As irritated as she was that he hadn’t given them to her in person, they were admittedly stunning and her favorite gift that she had received this year.

When she arrived at the Great Hall, the place was nearly empty. She missed the early lunch trays but was determined to snag something because she was feeling a bit sick after having survived on a diet of chocolate frogs for the last few days. Not much in the way of veggies, Lavender decided to eat a small bowl of mashed potatoes. She would definitely have to talk to McGonagall about possibly getting the house-elves to include some vegetarian meals.

Slowly drinking her tea, she thought of all the things she would tell Ron. She sighed. I just want to talk. What’s going on? I’ve given you space but enough is enough. She was so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn’t realized that her bowl had disappeared beneath her hovering spoon. Gulping down the last of her tea, she slammed her cup on the table, scaring a group of tiny first years. Ugh, Ron!

Lavender had tried for months to figure out what was going on inside of Ron’s head. Their relationship started rather hot and heavy and was now as frigid as the Hogwarts grounds in winter. She endured the rude comments about her interests, off putting jokes about being smart, and the longing stares in the direction of his two best friends.

Out of desperation, she began to change. No longer talking about Divination, she picked up several books on Quidditch, studying his favorite team, positions, and players. She chose to be his biggest and loudest fan, always encouraging him. Ordering a pair of glasses, she spent far more time in the common room “studying” or appearing to because of him.

One day, everything dawned on her. He didn’t like “smart girls,” just one smart girl in particular. Hermione Jean Granger, brightest witch of her age, and Lavender’s roommate. How had she not seen this before? Though he assured her that this wasn’t the case, Hermione became an invisible impediment within their relationship, a fact which made it all the more easier to treat Hermione with more malice than she deserved; and use her as a distraction from the rift between Lavender and Ron.

Standing, she remembered where she was supposed to be. She took to gathering her belongings and determining to find Ron. Ron. Her stupid, tall, red-headed boyfriend. Taking one last look at her cup, another thought came to her. The tea leaves didn’t look promising.

—

The warm breeze beckoned her outside and she found herself searching the castle grounds for Ron. He had taken to hiding and avoiding her at all costs so she knew that the common room would be the last place to look for him. Well, that or the library. She walked out to the Quidditch pitch, noticing a group of people flying high in the distance. Upon closer inspection, she realized that it was a group of Hufflepuff boys taking turns doing small tricks as they passed around a tiny bean bag, hitting it with the tail end of their brooms.

Near Hagrid’s hut, she saw the gamekeeper walking around the outside of his cabin, openly weeping. She decided it was best to not approach him and give herself the burden of being pleasant company. Knowing Ron and the way he dealt with the emotions of others, it was safe to think he wasn’t there either. Next, the garden patch and the Owlery. No signs of Ron anywhere.

Back in the castle she caught Harry, lurking in the halls of the seventh floor corridor. The Boy Who Lived, while very attractive, seemed almost monk-like in his dating life. Didn’t he realize that he was one of Hogwarts’ most eligible? He didn’t have to be so serious all of the time.

“Hi, Harry,” she said, waving slightly to get his attention.

“Oh. Hi, Lavender,” he said somewhat distractedly.

“You haven’t happened to see Ron anywhere?” she said, raising her eyebrows as she braced for the lie.

“Uh. Yes. He had his Apparition test today, so he’s doing that.” Harry said quickly.

“Oh, I must have forgotten,” she said truthfully, “If you happen to see him…tell him I’m looking for him,” she finished weakly. Harry had already turned and walked briskly down the hall.

“So bloody rude, that one. No wonder they’re friends,” she grumbled to herself.

—

Since there was no point in searching, she decided to head back to the dormitory. At this point, Ron was the least of her worries. Little did he know, he was giving her more time to get into the right headspace for this conversation. She tossed open her trunk and Accio’d her journal, 4 tall white candles, and her favorite book of the moment, Yasmina Hunnicut’s Guide to Teen Relationships.

Quickly eyeing the table of contents, she found the section for “Breakups” page 364.

“‘Keep em, Trap em’ No. ‘Hexes and Warts’, ” she paused, before mumbling to herself, “No.”

But that didn’t stop her from folding the corner of the page. Just in case.

“Hmm….’Forgive and Forget’?” she said as she cautiously began reading the page.

“Sometimes we find ourselves in a relationship where we begin to seek the end. Though we once felt love that was so powerful that it eclipsed every amount of sense that we have developed in our lives, the flame has dimmed. Where there was a spark lie dying embers of the romance that once was. We begin to doubt not only our partners, but our own minds. If you are now finding yourself in this place, welcome. You are among the many who have felt this way before. Above all, most people that find themselves in this predicament seek a peaceful end as they transition into a new life. Below, you will see how to do this.

Ingredients:

Paper

Quill

Lemon

Water

Candles

A small bowl

A photo of your partner

Your favorite uplifting song

Lavender glanced quickly around the room, spying a small photo she had placed on her nightstand of her giving Ron a peck on his extremely red cheek. Sighing, she folded it in half and tore it straight down the middle, removing herself from it. With a quick flick of the wand, she turned on the nearby radio, the sounds of the BSU playlist CD that Lee had given everyone a copy of playing low in the background. She lit the candles and continued reading.

1. Using a piece of paper and quill, write down 5 things that you like about your current relationship, if you can.

Quickly, she ripped out a sheet of her pink, strawberry-scented journal paper and smoothed it out before her. Her favorite sparkly quill with self-filling glitter ink found its way to her hand.

“Hmm...maybe I’ll come back to that question later,” she thought.

2. Write down 5 things that you dislike about your current relationship.

“Now that I can do,” she thought. Quickly she began to scrawl all of her resentments on the sheet of paper only stopping when she realized that she had gone way over the 5 limit and her wrist began to hurt.

3. What pieces of yourself do you feel like you have given up to be in this relationship?

“Ouch, Yasmina,” she said aloud as she began writing, thinking of her actions toward Parvati and Hermione this year.

4. Take a moment to forgive yourself for everything that you have written in step 3. If you have wished ill towards anyone, send them light.

Though it felt dumb, Lavender sat meditatively, going over everything on her list. She had to admit that she felt much lighter when she opened her eyes a few minutes later.

5. Rip the paper into small pieces and place them in the bowl along with the photograph of your partner. Using the candle, light the contents of the bowl on fire.

6. Extinguish the flame by using the spell “versus amor nullum umbra.”

7. Add the juice of the lemon and half of a bottle of water to the bowl. Drink the contents.

“Excuse me?” Lavender thought to herself in disgust.

Her desire to rid herself of her feelings for Ron overrode the sick feeling that had come up from reading the last line. Quickly, she flipped the paper over and stared for a moment. Though she couldn’t think of 5 things, she found herself writing, I have been able to experience my first love. With a sigh she placed Ron’s face in the bowl and began ripping the paper into small pieces. In a last minute decision, she ripped up and added the parchment of Ron’s birth chart. The candle flame quickly spread over the contents of the bowl and decreased in size. Waving her wand she completed the spell, which had the effect of turning the burning flame purple and extinguishing with a slight pop. Upon adding the lemon and water, the ashes turned from dark to a brilliant light yellow color. She drank from the bowl, surprised by the sweetness of the liquid. The ashes had turned to lemonade.

—

With a renewed sense of self she set about looking for her soon to be ex-boyfriend, Ronald Bilius Weasley. Unfortunately for her and a few spectators in the common room, she didn’t have to look far. Ron and Hermione were in deep conversation, exiting the boys’ dormitory.

Lavender felt months of relationship tension rise from deep within her. A fire as furious as the sun burned from the soles of her feet to the top of her head.

“What were you doing up there with her?” shrieked Lavender.

Her words echoed loudly off the walls of the room. She hadn’t meant to sound as upset as she was and felt betrayed by her own voice. Hermione, sensing danger, politely excused herself and exited with surprising speed for someone with absolutely no athletic ability. It was quite impressive and Lavender felt torn between wanting to chase after her and wanting to slap off the dumb look that had taken over Ron’s face.

Ron, sputtering, turned beat red and grabbed at the back of his neck. He had no solid word coming from his babbling mouth. A few of their classmates began to snicker. The room was filled with onlookers who had heard Lavender’s outburst.

Becoming aware of all of the eyes on them, Lavender felt a sense of relief when she saw Ginny and Dean bickering as they came through the portrait hole. She bolted from the room past them, eyes blurred by tears.

“Lav! Lav!” she heard as loud footsteps approached her from behind. She honestly hadn’t expected him to follow. Turning slowly with arms crossed in front of her, she looked up at Ron.

“Hey,” he said breathing hard, “It’s not what you think.”

“And what am I thinking right now, Ron?” she said angrily.

Noting the edge in her voice, he backed away slowly. “I wasn’t alone with Hermione up there. Harry was with us but he had just left.” He said, wincing at the last few words.

“It’s not about Hermione, Ron!” she snapped, “It’s about YOU being a disrespectful little toad! I hear what people say about me, I’m not an idiot!”

Ron didn’t say anything, his silence goading her into shouting even further.

“Under the bloody ‘Weasley Spell’! A total nutter! Attached to you like a flabbergasted leech! And a lot of help you were, defending my honor and all!” she raged, “I was even made fun of by Myrtle of all people—”

“Well, she’s not really a person,” he said, interrupting her with a slight chuckle.

Lavender narrowed her eyes murderously.

“I’m sorry.” He said cautiously. “Really.”

Now that her feelings were hanging in the open, she remembered the taste of the sweet lemonade that had made her feel so much better only minutes before. Her expression softened.

“I’ve never really done this before,” he said, indicating the space between them.

“Well, you’re awful at it. Just awful,” she said, bursting into laughter. Tugging at the sleeve of her jumper, she dabbed at the tears in the corner of her eyes.

Ron wore a look of confusion on his face, unsure of whether to join in the laughter or not. She rose up on the tips of her toes and gently pushed back a strand of Ron’s hair.

“You know that we’re done, right?” she said as she placed her heels back on the ground.

“I suppose.” he said, shrugging and staring at his trainers.

“You weren’t the worst.” she said adding, “At first!” Because it had to sting just a little.

“I know that you probably hate me now—” he started.

“Actually, I don’t. What I hate is how I allowed you to treat me.” she said confidently, adding, “And the way I treated my friends.”

“I deserve that,” he said tight lipped.

“You deserve worse, to be honest.” She sighed. “Just do me a favor. Give me time to have a conversation with Hermione before you two start up anything.”

“Wh-What?!” he stammered, turning red once more.

Rolling her eyes, she turned and strolled toward the Astronomy Tower, making sure to glance over her shoulder back at Ron and exaggerate the sway of her hips a little.

—

She had arrived at the dormitory around midnight with a hall pass from Professor Trelawney. Because of the argument, she had found herself walking in the direction of her favorite professor’s classroom after breaking up with Ron. The kindly teacher sensed that she had just had some sort of “metamorphosis” and talked her into staying for a cup of tea. She read her fortune wide eyed and dramatically. And unfortunately, told Lavender that her future wasn’t looking too great. The one thing that she really didn’t want to hear at the moment. Trelawney’s predictions, though wonderfully accurate to Lavender, had not been this tragic since the presaged death of her poor rabbit, Binky. The glum news diminished the feeling of power and freedom she had felt after speaking with Ron. She cut the evening short, reminding the professor of the curfew that was quickly approaching.

When she got to her room Parvati was just getting into bed and Hermione was fast asleep, or pretending to be with her curtains drawn.

Parvati had heard about the “freak out” in the common room and wanted all of the details. Whispering, Lavender promised to fill her in as soon as possible. She got ready for bed quickly, and with pajamas and a headscarf on, she dived deep into her covers, slightly cracking her window for a cool breeze. Sleep came easily and she drifted off.

—

The next morning arrived much sooner than anticipated. Lavender shot up at the sound of her alarm and in one swift motion chopped at the clock and its offending noise. She looked over at Parvati still sound asleep, snoring slightly, and mouth wide open. Giggling, she turned her attention to Hermione’s bed, which lay unoccupied and made up tight and neatly. She never let the house-elves do it.

Lavender tried to think of the next time that she would see Hermione. She, like Ron, had taken to avoiding Lavender, ducking her in the hallways and mysteriously spending less time in the common room and dormitory. They had Charms today, which was a promising sign. Hopefully, she’d be able to corner her for a quick chat so she didn’t feel the need to melt out of the room every time Lavender was around.

In Charms, Lavender mostly paid attention to the lesson. Flitwick, one of the most engaging teachers in the school, went about the lesson in a dramatic and grand fashion. That was until Ron decided to make it snow. Cold flecks of snow fell on Lavender’s textbook and notes, making the ink run. She found herself glaring in his direction only to come eye to eye with Hermione, who was holding his wrist at the time. Hermione snapped back around in her seat, avoiding eye contact. Deep in frustration, Lavender tried to mouth apologies, but Hermione was determined to not look at her. She stared, back straight, in the direction of her two desk mates.

A giant piece of snow found its way directly in Lavender’s eye, causing her shock. She released a noise that sounded like blubbering and terror. Blinking frantically, the snow melted down her cheek, smearing her eye liner. A “disappointing turn of events,” foretold Professor Trelawney. Now the entire table of Ron, Harry, and Hermione were looking at her with confused faces tinged with a hint of pity.

Faking illness, she asked Professor Flitwick to be excused. She left class feeling a lot more noticeable then she had intended to be. After the stink eye debacle and snow tears she decided to try and talk to Hermione another time. It wasn’t worth it and she was tired. The lure of her room was strong and hiding under the covers sounded wonderful.

As she approached the portrait of the Fat Lady, she was ready to be done for the day.

“What happened to you?” the Fat Lady said with a smirk on her face.

“Ugh. Not you too.” said Lavender.

Before she could give the password. The portrait sprang forward as Dean and Seamus climbed through.

“Hey! You got them.” Seamus said beaming.

“Got what?” Lavender said confused.

“The earrings, silly. I sent them to you on Christmas holiday,” Seamus said, smile fading.

“You got me these?” she asked, tugging at the crescent earrings.

“Yeah. I remembered that you said that crescent moons were your favorite and I made a joke about bread rolls at the Yule Ball,” he said with a slight chuckle.

“That is so sweet.” she said remembering. “There was no note with the package. I didn’t know who they were from.”

“Bloody owls,” he said with a frown. “Well, they suit you.” Winking, he followed Dean across the landing and down the stairs.

She followed him with her eyes. Seamus seemed much taller this year.

Maybe all boys aren’t so bad, thought Lavender as she climbed through the portrait hole and made her way to her room. Flicking her wand, the BSU playlist started again, this time an oldie from Celestina Warbeck. She flopped on the bed as a big band began to play.

“I ain’t got time for you, baby.

You don’t treat me right.

I think it’s time that I shake you off, darlin’.

I need my peace of mind.

Shake. Shake. Shake. Shake.

It’s time to shake you off.

Shake. Shake. Shake. Shake.

I love me more than I love you.”

As the drums kicked in, she began humming the words. Lavender decided she had to tell Des how cool her grandmother was. Tomorrow was another day. She’d handle everything then.

#Lavender Brown #Ron Weasley #Hogwarts #fanfic

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ununquadius · 6 years

Text

To Lose a Sibling

Sirius Black

Regulus’ death struck Sirius like a killing curse. Sirius always had thought that there was hope for Regulus. Regulus was the good son, the bright little brother that came up with a plan to defeat Narcissa and Andromeda at gobstones. Regulus deserved a life away from the war, he deserved a future doing whatever he wanted to do. Sirius wished he had protected his little brother, because big brothers are there for taking care and little brothers shouldn't die before their older siblings.

There aren’t words to describe the pain of losing a brother. Are there for losing two? James had everything: he was nice, the type that helped old ladies with their shopping bags; he had a lovely wife he loved more than anything in the world, and a little son he could have die for, he died for. James was more than what most people thought. He adopted Sirius as a brother. He invented really bad jokes. He claimed that he invented the perfect cheese sandwich. He was everything Sirius could have ever asked for. And now there's nothing left of him.

Petunia Dursley

It doesn’t matter when you have spent ten years hating her, or that is what Petunia thought the morning she received the news that told her Lily was dead. But it did mattered because of how things were before.

Before the wizarding world took Lily, they have been close. Petunia had been the admired big sister, the one Lily came for advice, the one Lily told about her day, her dreams. Lily was her partner at inventing worlds just for the two of them. Lily was who she confessed first that she liked a boy in her year. Lily was the one that listened to Petunia’s dreams when nobody else did.

Remus Lupin

He just had him back when Sirius was taken away from him again, this time forever. Remus had never met someone like Sirius before Hogwarts. Sirius was a fighter. He fought all his life for being a better person, for the light. And that was him for Remus: a light in the darkness. A bright light full of life, of plans, of happiness and curiosity for the world. Sirius loved animals to the point of making them annoyed. The puppy the Lupin family owned adored Sirius, but kept her distance because he had a thing for touching her soft ears too much. He loved playing, running, freedom. He had a grumpy side for some and for others, the ones that he cared about, he always put a big smile on his face. He was always ready to fight for his loved ones, to defend them. Who is there to stand up for Remus now?

Narcissa Malfoy

The first time Narcissa lost a sister was to a marriage. Andromeda is no longer living with them and because she married a muggleborn, she can’t visit either. Narcissa was fifteen and she still needed her big sister. They shared the love for the same things. The two of them enjoyed simple things like going for a walk, or talking till midnight about everything they could think about. They liked to imagine the stars their family is named after as people with their own lives. They liked to dream about touching the stars and understanding the universe.

The second time Narcissa lost a sister was to death. The age difference between Bellatrix and her was too big to share the same interests, but wasn’t enough to separate them. Narcissa enjoyed visited Bellatrix’s home. She liked listened to her talking about a life so different to her own, so grown up. Bellatrix talked about marriage, gave her sex advices, and looked after her better than anyone else. Bellatrix created a name just for the two of them to know: she was Narcissa for the world, and Cissy for Bellatrix.

George Weasley

In a house full of people, Fred and George had built their own space. It was just a little world for the two of them, a world not avaible for anyone else. They had their own words, normal words with a special meaning. They had a brain for the two of them; not need of Legeremancy when you have a brother. They shared a look and they understood each other.

After Fred passed away, all that passed away too. And George doesn’t have anybody to share looks with, he doesn’t have anybody to say the special words to. People see Fred in him and forget that he is just George, he hasn’t got his other half with him anymore. He has a hole inside imposible to fill. He isn’t Fred, but everytime he looks himself in the mirror he sees him.

Parvati Patil

Parvati has a sister and had a best friend that became a sister. Lavender was her other half. They could talk for hours, they enjoyed gossip and shared opinions about fashion, makeup and boys. When the war took Lavender's life, something broke inside Parvati.

The worst came with time when she wanted to gossip about Ron and Hermione's new relationship but she hasn't got anyone to talk to. The loneliness hit her when she realised that she is alone now. Lavender is not to come back, there's nobody there anymore to talk about makeup, fashion and boys. Parvati can't tell Lavender that she is working at the Ministry, that she's dating that boy from Beauxbatons they mete at the Yule Ball. Parvati can't tell Lavender how much she misses her and how much she needs her.

#sirius black #regulus black #james potter #petunia dursley #lily evans potter #remus lupin #narcissa malfoy #andromeda tonks #bellatrix lestrange #george weasley #parvati patil #lavender brown #harry potter #death of a sibling #brothers and sisters #ignore my grammar mistakes

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stillrecruitingrp · 6 years

Photo

The D.A. has recruited Nicky to the character of Padma Patil with a faceclaim of Naomi Scott. Sorry Padma, we didn’t see you standing there behind Parvati. Speak up next time, won’t you?

OOC Details

Name: Nicky

Age: 30+

Pronouns: she/her

Activity Level: medium; I should be able to post multiple replies three to four times a week, with an at least cursory online presence more often than that. Sometimes I get bogged down with other projects or deadlines, but I will always try to alert via the ooc when that is/will happen so my interaction partners aren’t left wondering where I’ve gone!

Acknowledgement: I acknowledge the potentially triggering themes and look forward to the uncertainty and excitement of the roulette.

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General IC Details

Name: Padma Patil; very occasionally called “Pads” (pronounced pahds or pods) by close friends or by people exasperated with her

Age: seventeen, Seventh Year student

Ships: I have no preconceived thoughts about ships for this character but in general the possibility of exploring hetero ships holds less interest for me than queer ones.

Gender/Pronouns: female-presenting lesbian who uses she/her pronouns (see “explorations” below for more details)

Face Claim: Naomi Scott (backup choice if unavailable: Alia Bhatt)

Desired Changes: no changes requested, but please note that I am more than happy to discuss changing any and all backstory elements presented here in order to better mesh with a prospective Parvati player’s ideas!

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BIO Questions

This game is Canon Divergent after the beginning of Deathly Hallows. This means, if a character is not at Hogwarts in canon, that can be altered (maybe Fleur goes to collect her husband’s little sister and ends up unable to leave the rest of the children there? Perhaps Harry comes back earlier…but why, and how? All of these things can be addressed and should be in your application!) Feel free to be creative!

Biography:

Please write at least two paragraphs describing your character’s background. While many characters have a lot of canon details, there are equally as many who do not. To check if your character has “set” information in this game please see the CHARACTER PAGE.

A child of wealth and privilege, Padma’s youth was easy and comfortable despite the occasional moments of culture clash between her parents (her mother’s family has had roots in Scotland and England since before there was a Scotland or England, while her father’s family only moved from India three generations ago when Padma’s father was still a baby). It was also a sheltered life, the outside world and its troubles being kept at a safe distance behind tall hedges and carefully-curated playdates with children of suitable upbringing. Reyansh and Adelaide Patil were protective (some might say, overprotective) parents who wanted to keep their precious little girls safe not only from danger, but from unhappiness as well.

Unfortunately for their parents’ plans -- but perhaps fortunately for the character and development of the twins -- they were curious girls who soon developed a knack for eavesdropping on the sort of serious adult conversations they were not supposed to be privy to. Thus when they entered Hogwarts at the tender ages of eleven, they were not as shocked as they might have been to discover that there were a wider variety of people and unpleasantness in the world than their parents would have liked them exposed to -- although the cossetted twins were still by no means jaded.

What was truly shocking was the separation that followed their arrival: Padma and Parvati had never so much as spent the night in different rooms before, but the Sorting Hat placed the one in Ravenclaw and the other in Gryfindor. This was horrifying and destabilizing for poor Padma. As a child she had always been content to follow Parvati, letting her sister take the lead so she could hang back and assess the data garnered by her brash interactions with the world from a safe distance before choosing her own course of action -- whether that be to follow Parvati’s lead, or run to mummy or bapu to fix whatever had broken (usually Parvati). She had never planned on how she would deal with a world without her sister to trail and consequently grew rather timid at first, sticking to her sister’s side as much as she could outside of class. She did make friends in Ravenclaw, but none of comparable closeness as Parvati’s new best friend and fellow Gryffindor, Lavender Brown (whom Padma spent a few years being incurably jealous of), and she was often quick to ditch those new friends to dog Parvati’s heels instead.

Some of her fellow Ravenclaws scorned her for her apparent fixation on fashion and gossip over more traditional academic pursuits, but curiosity takes many forms -- and Padma was a smart girl as well as a pretty one, and enjoyed learning magic. She simply also enjoyed giggling over the latest articles in Witch Weekly with Parvati and Lavender. When her sister suggested that they join an illicit student groups to practice for their DADA O.W.L.s, Padma was quick to go along with her both for the academic opportunity and for the chance to socialize more with Parvati and her friends. For once, she didn’t stop to think through the possible consequences -- but even if she had, how could she have predicted all this?

School Year So Far:

Please provide at least one paragraph describing your character’s experiences so far this year. If your character stays at Hogwarts over winter break, you can focus on that as well as if they left (why or why not) during the holidays. If your character should not be at Hogwarts, this is the space to develop how and why they came to be here. Note! Your character doesn’t have to start out at the school; if you’d be interested in having your character’s return be an event please make note of it here.

Reyansh and Adelaide Patil did not want to let their daughters go back to Hogwarts, but after the Ministry’s new policies went into affect they didn’t have a choice. They thought about leaving, maybe fleeing to Reyansh’s distant cousins in India -- but the risk of running seemed worse than the danger of staying. Besides, they knew their daughters were good girls who wouldn’t get up to any trouble; they would be all right for one more year.

Unfortunately for Reyansh and Adelaide, neither of the twins were very keen on behaving this year. It was Parvati who returned them to the ranks of the D.A. of course -- she was the one who shared a common room with Neville and Ginny, after all -- but Padma was quick to second her sister’s commitment for the both of them when the news was shared with her. She was less keen on some of the more bold (some might say, foolhardy) activities that the D.A. engaged in; speaking-up in class to politely argue with a teacher (even a very bad teacher, who accepted dissent with even less grace than had Professor Snape) was one thing but painting slogans on the walls and trying to sabotage parts of the school was something else. What if they were caught? What if they weren’t? It wasn’t until the Carrows moved from theory to practical lessons on the Unforgivables that Padma was willing to accept that they were a lot worse than merely bad teachers -- they were monsters.

That was what finally pushed her over the edge into enthusiastic, albeit still nervous, support of the D.A. and shored her participation up into more than lip service. She hasn’t managed to summon the courage (the stupidity?) to do anything alone yet...but as long as she has company to cling to, Padma is willing to put her neck on the line. To sneak around the school after hours and paint slogans, to mess with lesson plans, to booby-trap classrooms and offices, to eavesdrop, to pass contraband and secrets... The fact that her neck being pure means she has less to risk than many of the others is both comfort and goad: Padma never asked for special treatment...but does it make her a terrible person if she finds comfort in that little slice of comparative safety?

(I would like to make it clear that I am happily amenable to changing anything in here in order to find a compromise with the headcanons or background of any player wishing to join as Parvati Patil! I love collaborative character building!)

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OOC Questions

Writing Sample

Padma’s wand wobbled in her hand as badly as if she were still a clumsy, nervous first year fumbling with an unfamiliar bit of wood rather than the natural extension of her arm that the smooth haft of ash had grown to be over the last seven years. Of course, she had never felt so sick or afraid as a first year -- not even on her first night alone up in Ravenclaw Tower, although that had come close. But not even her first separation from Parvati compared to being instructed to cast the Cruciatus Curse on another person.

She glanced sideways at Professor Carrow, wondering if she could get away with begging off the lesson -- but then she looked at the rest of the class, and knew with devastating certainty that being excused would be the worst thing of all. Too many of her fellow Ravenclaws already resented her for her status as a pure-blood and the indulgence that afforded her. She couldn’t let them see her take such blatant advantage of her blood-status; they would never believe that she wasn’t a blood-supremacist herself, if she did that...

But that meant she had to cast the curse.

Padma swallowed, adjusted her grip on her wand (a useless effort; it felt alien in her hands no matter how she fiddled her fingers), and tried to look at Michael without meeting his eyes. It was hard; he seemed to be going out of his way to glare at her, or maybe that was just her imagination under stress...did he think she was enjoying this? He hadn’t hesitated for very long before he’d cast the curse on Terry during his turn, and they were much closer friends than she was with him...was he angry because he didn’t think she’d be able to do it, and he’d be Crucio’ed by Professor Carrow instead? The whole class knew that would hurt worse than being cursed by a novice, it was why they knew they had to hurt one another instead, to spare their classmates from even more pain...

Was he just resentful of the fact that as a pure-blood, she was less likely to be chosen to suffer the curse than any of the half-bloods in their class, like Michael or his friends? That wasn’t her fault, though! She hadn’t asked for the Carrows to take it easy on her, any more than Morag or Stephen did...but of course they weren’t in the D.A., so perhaps Michael didn’t take it so much to heart that they weren’t suffering as badly as the rest...

“Crucio,” Padma snapped, letting her annoyance surge out of the end of her wand. Michael yelped, cowering away from her, and Padma was horrified by what she had just done -- by what she had had no choice but to do. Beside her, Professor Carrow was nodding and smiling, and Padma felt sick.

At the same time, a distant part of her brain merely thought calmly, Interesting. Most spellwork was vulnerable to strong emotions, easily marred by the distraction that an unsteady mind would cause if not properly channeled; the Cruciatus Curse, on the other hand, seemed to be strengthened by emotion -- just as Professor Carrow had told them. Padma wondered why that was, wondered if the Unforgivables were perhaps part of a whole separate, unique branch of magic -- something as distinct as Transfiguration or Charms -- that had never been properly catalogued or explored, an entire subset that relied on heated emotion rather than eschewing it. The idea of anyone studying such magicks was repellent--

But, yes, also interesting. She couldn’t deny that; couldn’t deny that while mostly she wanted nothing more than to turn and run, to shove her wand deep in her pocket and never look at it again, to find somewhere private to vomit or shake or both...there was a part of her, a tiny but unmistakable part of her, that wanted to cast the curse again to see how different it would be if she was in a different mood. A part of her that wanted to study the Cruciatus Curse, to discover how it worked. A part of her that was curious.

A part of her that made her sick...but that wouldn’t be ignored.

When Padma returned to her seat, she put her head down on her desk and cried.

Exploration

Please provide four things you’d like to explore. This could be a character changing sides, darker themes, or basic fiction tropes.

Blood-Purity: Padma didn’t grow up with a lot of direct blood-prejudice in her life, but she did grow up in a culture that told her she was better than other people because of her bloodline. (She couldn’t help but internalize some of that, even if in her case it manifests more as “oh wow, that was a really good spell, especially for a Muggle-born!” than it does as “ugh get away from me, filthy Mudblood!”) Given the current political and social climate, it would be easy for someone like her to bury her head in the same and pretend she doesn’t see what’s happening to other people, pretend she doesn’t notice how wrong it is -- but despite her appearance as a spoiled pure-blood princess, Padma isn’t doing that. She’s fighting back. However...that doesn’t mean she doesn’t sometimes thing about how much easier things would be if she stopped fighting so hard for other people. It doesn’t mean that she doesn’t sometimes wonder if those same people resent her over the fact that she doesn’t risk consequences as severe as the ones they face; doesn’t mean she doesn’t sometimes resent that, because how dare they? She didn’t ask for this privilege, didn’t ask to be protected by the so-called “purity” of her blood; how dare they blame her for that? Shouldn’t they be grateful instead, that she’s putting her neck on the line for their sakes? It’s an ugly train of thought and she’ll be ashamed every time it crosses her mind, but that doesn’t mean it won’t show up sometimes. I want to explore the nuances of blood-supremacy from the angle of a “good” pure-blood -- someone who’s fighting against Voldemort, and who didn’t have to turn her back on her family to do it (her parents her to stay out of the fight because they’re afraid she’ll get hurt, not because they’d burn her off some family tapestry if she gets too cozy with “the mud”), but who comes from the same world as so many of his most lauded followers. I also want to explore the opposite side of that coin: what kind of prejudices do the Muggles have that wix like Padma don’t? (We know from word-of-god canon and implied book-canon that racism and homophobia aren’t major issues in the wizarding world, although how that actually works is a little wobbly...but I think it does mean that at least on a superficial level, the wizarding world is a lot more color-blind and accepting of diverse sexualities -- and possibly genders, too -- than are the Muggles, especially in the 1990s. I intend to play Padma’s family like that at any rate, however other players choose to go with theirs.) How would someone like Padma react to finding out that several of her friends come from families who think it’s a sin for someone like her to kiss another girl -- or a white boy, for that matter? She won’t take it well, that’s for sure...but could it be enough to push her away from the D.A.? Enough to make her briefly betray one of her fellows out of hurt feelings or anger, even if she regrets it after; even if she never meant to hurt the D.A. as a whole, but just to take one ugly bigot down a notch? It doesn’t seem likely that it would be enough to push her far enough to inspire her to join the other side...but to make her sit out the fight? Possibly...or possibly it could lead to a schism within the D.A., with the pure-bloods and more traditionally magical children like Padma still committed to the fight against Voldemort but on their own terms...and the D.A. is far too small and fragile to survive a division like that for long.

Curiosity: Padma is a Ravenclaw. That makes her inherently curious, and while her curiosity has always been turned more toward gossip and fashion and giggling with Parvati and Lavender, she’s curious about other things too -- like weird, old, forbidden magicks. (Who wouldn’t be curious about things like that?) Magicks that Hogwarts students never learn...but that the Durmstrang students who were here a few years ago talked about, when begged and flattered and bribed. Magicks that the Carrows now have them learning, even practicing on one another. Padma is the good girl that her parents always wanted her to be; she hates the very idea of the Unforgivable Curses, hates the fact that they are forced to use one another for practice; hates the fact that they are even being made to cast them at all. But she can’t help but be curious, too; can’t help but be interested in what they’re learning. It isn’t a type of magic that she ever thought she would have either the opportunity nor the motivation to study, and frankly she’d still rather refuse the chance...but since she doesn’t have that choice, she might as well make the most of it, right? That isn’t an attitude that is going to endear her to many of the other members of the D.A.; maybe isn’t even an attitude that her own sister would be able to face without horror. It isn’t a very Gryffindor way of looking at things...but Padma isn’t a Gryffindor. She’s not her sister, even if sometimes she’s wished she could be. She’s a Ravenclaw. And she likes to learn. But oh, the lessons the Carrows offer this year...are they the kind of lessons that anyone can draw anything positive from? Or is all use of Dark MagIc by its very nature corruptive and evil? Maybe it’s possible to use the ugly lessons they’re learning for good, for the good of the D.A. and of Hogwarts at large; wouldn’t that be a good use of what they’re so unwillingly being taught? But even if that pragmatic attitude has merit, can Padma get anyone else in the D.A. to agree -- and if she does, what’s the price she (or they) might have to pay?

Friends on Both Sides: growing up in the upper echelons of pure-blood society didn’t just mean that Padma had a comfortable, indulgent childhood; it also meant that she had friends from that society long before she came to Hogwarts. Maybe they weren’t close friends (she has a twin sister, so she didn’t need to make close friends with anyone else, back then, before the Sorting separated them) but she knew them, played with them, laughed with them. People like Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, Neville Longbottom, Draco Malfoy...she knew them, before they all came to school and went their separate ways. (Padma couldn’t even being to count how many dolls’ tea parties she shared with Pansy Parkinson, once upon a time, even if she wanted to.) And now those people are her enemy? Just because they don’t agree on who deserves to have magic, on who deserves to be in charge of the world? It’s hard for Padma, because unlike so many members of the D.A. who only ever saw the bad sides of the people they’re fighting against now, Padma’s known them from birth. Sure, some of them she’s disliked from birth...but the rest of them are just people. They aren’t (weren’t) monsters, they were friends...and fighting friends hurts. It isn’t exactly like having divided loyalties -- but it is very, very close to being that. And if approached by one of her old friends, what would Padma do? Would she cut them off, turn her back? Or would she listen? Would she care? I’d like to explore the difficult situation that Padma’s social position and childhood history put her in. It’s not something that many of her fellow D.A. members would understand or sympathize with, but it’s got to be hard for her to look at a person she knows as a childhood pal and think “that is my enemy.” From Harry’s perspective, which the books are narrated from, they all fall pretty neatly into their slots as “bad people he never liked to begin with” but that isn’t how someone like Padma is going to feel about it; she’s going to see them as people she’s known all her life, as friends and parents of friends. As people who might have come to her birthday parties, or who would wave and smile at her in Diagon Alley, or who shared jokes over homework in the library. Maybe she doesn’t have any close friends among the “enemy camp” (and maybe she does) but they aren’t strangers, and they aren’t villains. They’re people -- and that means no matter what she does, she’s going to feel guilty because she’s hurting people she knows. Maybe even people she likes, but definitely people she knows. Maybe that will make her more lenient, more trusting, more inclined toward mercy; maybe it will be the opposite, with Padma being especially firm in her commitment to Dumbledore’s Army because she doesn’t want to be called-out for sympathizing with the enemy. Either way it isn’t going to be neat, isn’t going to be cut-and-dried for her. And that’s fascinating to me. She could wind up being torn in two if someone playing one of her old friends seeks her out (either genuinely or through ulterior motives) and tries to play on her sympathies, on their old connection; she could use those connections to insinuate herself in their confidences and play spy for the D.A.; she could use what she knows about them to hurt them by helping plan strategy to take advantage of weaknesses the others aren’t familiar with; she could sabotage D.A. plans to avoid hurting people she still likes too much to turn her back on completely; she could take them at their word and inadvertently court disaster for her friends; etc!

Gender Twins: if a prospective Parvati player is interested in exploring the twins’ gender identities I would be delighted to jump on board with that, whether that involves making one or both of them trans or nonbinary (maybe they’re “identical” twins because the one is regularly Polyjuicing the other in order to get a body she feels comfortable in? Maybe one of them is really a boy who was assigned female at birth, and he hesitates to “come out” because he doesn’t want to risk growing apart from his sister? Maybe they’re both trans, and the label of “prettiest girls in school” is something they worked hard for -- or something these nonbinary twins resent? etc). I thus hesitate to specify Padma’s gender identity in too much detail yet beyond the basic label of “female presenting” because I want to leave that open for possible later shared exploration with my fellow player. (If no Parvati player materializes in the opening weeks of the game, I may still end up exploring these themes on my own...but I’d rather do it in concert with an in-play Parvati than with a made-up NPC one, of course!)

#recruitaccept #padma patil

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headcanonsandmore · 6 years

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‘A bond between us’ A Linny fanfiction.

Ginny Weasley had a problem. A blonde-haired problem called Luna Lovegood.

Ginny was close friends with the Ravenclaw girl, and had been for several years. They hung out in shared classes, chatted during break-time, and did their homework together.

Luna was…unusual. She seemed uninterested in mundane things like the newest hit song on the Wizarding Wireless Network, and the latest dating gossip about who was dating whom. Instead, she devoted her time to discovering new magical creatures which Ginny wasn’t sure even existed, sprouting random facts about things like the stars, and making her own jewellery out of butterbeer corks.

Ginny liked this.

Ginny liked Luna.

It had happened slowly over time. She wasn’t sure when, but over-time, she had found herself staring at Luna, gazing at the long dirty-blonde hair, the enormous grey eyes, and the way she bit her lip when she was nervous about something.

As was the case now, as two large Ravenclaw fifth-years stood in front of her, their arms crossed, and their eyes glinting maliciously. Luna’s head was bowed slightly, and her hands clamped nervously around her bag.

‘What’s wrong, Loony?’ one of them crowed. ‘Cat got your tongue?’

Ginny, who had been walking across the entrance hall to meet Luna before their shared Charms class, felt her hair bristle with anger.

‘Oy- leave her alone!’ she yelled, marching in between them and Luna, and glaring furiously at them, her hands balled into fists. ‘Push off!’

The two Ravenclaws looked down at the short Gryffindor.

‘What’s it got to do with you, Weasley?’ one of them drawled, crossing their arms. ‘Some bodyguard you are. Well, I suppose, if are you hanging out with Loony Love—’

‘And just what do you think you are saying to my sister and her friend?’

The two Ravenclaws turned. The tall freckled face of Ron Weasley was glaring down at them, his prefect badge glinting in the morning sun breaking through the enormous doorway behind him. Normally, Ginny wouldn’t have wanted his help, but having a protective older brother who could dock points from bullies did have its advantages.

‘Come on’ one of the fifth-years muttered to the other, and the two of them beat a hasty retreat up the staircase. Ron continued to glare after them, before turning his attention back to Ginny, who had put a supportive arm round Luna’s shoulders.

‘You okay, Gin?’

‘Yeah,’ she muttered, now patting Luna softly on the shoulder. ‘Those twerps were just being rude to Luna. Again.’

Ron gave Luna a friendly smile, which Luna returned weakly.

‘Should I chase them down and give them detentions?’

‘Ron…’

‘Or maybe ask Hermione about the school’s policy towards bullying?’

‘Ron.’

‘Or maybe me and Hermione should speak to Flitwick about it—’

‘Ron!’

Ginny was now glaring slightly at him, not entirely sure why she was so angry all of a sudden.

‘Oh,’ Ron mumbled, looking awkward. ‘Sorry- I’m just trying to help.’

‘You’ve already done that!’ she spat. ‘I’m got this!’

Ron’s eyes lingered slightly on Ginny’s hand, wrapped softly around Luna’s shoulder.

‘I see you have,’ he said, shrugging. ‘Sorry about that all, Luna. Those two are horrible. Hope you feel better soon.’

He wandered away back into the Great Hall with his hands in his pockets, looking a little hurt.

Ginny let out a little sigh of frustration. She hadn’t meant to be so rude. Oh well, he’d survive.

‘Thank you, Ginny,’ murmured Luna, turning her enormous grey eyes to Ginny. ‘You’re very nice.’

Ginny felt her stomach give a little flip in her stomach. She realised that her hand was still wrapped around Luna’s shoulder and was stroking her arm gently- Luna’s skin felt soft under her robes, and her a few strands of her blonde hair was gently touching Ginny’s arm.

‘No- no problem,’ she said, taking her hand off Luna’s shoulder hurriedly. ‘Hey, shall we start heading over to Charms?’

‘Oh, yes,’ said Luna dreamily, as they began to climb the stairs. Was it just Ginny’s imagination, or did Luna look a little flushed? Ginny guessed it was the nerves from when those two bullies were being rude to her. ‘How have you been getting on with your practice for the separation charm?’

‘Oh, er, well…’

‘Oh, Ginny,’ Luna sighed. Ginny tried not to let her wander off to a daydream she’d had of Luna sighing Ginny’s name in very different circumstances. ‘You didn’t forget, did you?’

Ginny grinned at the blonde. Actually, she had practiced, but she liked Luna helping her with her spell-work, especially when Luna guided Ginny’s hand for the spell.

Luna sighed again, sounding a little amused. Ginny’s heart gave a little flutter.

‘Well, I guess I’ll have to help you out,’ Luna smiled, dimples forming in her pale cheeks.

Ginny returned the smile.

Oh, this was bad, she thought to herself, this is so bad…

‘Now, class,’ Professor Flitwick instructed to the class, standing on a large stack of books. ‘I hope you’ve all been practising those separating charms for today!’

There was a general murmur of assent from the class, many of whom looked like they hadn’t quite woken up just yet.

Professor Flitwick gave a little exasperated sigh under his breath. First-period lessons were almost the most difficult to teach, especially on a Monday morning.

‘Well,’ he continued brightly to the room at large. ‘Let’s get started then! And don’t forget to be very careful with the wand-movement!’

The class, sprawled out over several long benches, divided off into pairs. Ginny turned to Luna, who was sat at the end of their bench.

‘Ready to roll?’ she asked, tying her long red hair into a ponytail so it wouldn’t get in the way of her spell-work.

Luna nodded.

Next to them, Colin Creevey was attempting to remember the exact wand movement, much to the irritation of his partner, a Ravenclaw girl who Ginny could never remember the name of.

‘It’s a twirl, and then a sharp jab downwards, Colin!’

‘I’m sorry!’ the small Gryffindor exclaimed, embarrassed. Ginny tried not to chuckle as she looked round at them. Colin was a sweet guy, even if his spell-work was somewhat erratic. He was like a cute little brother, which was ironic considering that Ginny had six older brothers and did think of any of them as cute (well, Ron had his moments when he was staring longingly after Hermione Granger).

‘Miss Weasley, are you with us?’

Ginny was pulled out of her mental recollection (of all the times Ron had behaved like a lovesick goof around Hermione in the past two years) by the voice of Flitwick, who had chosen that moment to peek over the desk.

Ginny cleared her throat hurriedly.

‘Sorry, Professor,’ she said, picking up her wand. ‘We’ve starting now.’

Ginny began to move her wand in a large hoop, and was about to perform the sharp jab when, with a loud bang, Colin’s shoulder knocked into her back, making her fall off her stool and into Luna’s arms.

There was a great flash of light, and Ginny found herself staring into Luna’s startled face. One of Luna’s arms was wrapped protectively around Ginny’s back, and the other hand was softly holding Ginny’s hand.

‘Good grief- Miss Weasley, are you alright?’ squeaked Professor Flitwick, looking concerned. The whole class swivelled their heads to stare at Ginny and Luna.

‘Er- I think so,’ Ginny muttered, trying to ignore the fact that Luna’s beautifully soft hand was intertwined with hers, and that Luna’s face was so close that she could count the lashes on both of Luna’s luminous grey eyes. She disentangled herself, and stood up. ‘Just fell off my stool—’

Luna let out a slight gasp. Ginny turned.

Luna’s hand was still holding hers, and a soft glowing pink thread was wrapped around their intertwined hands, keeping them together.

Ginny’s eyes widened.

‘Oh dear,’ said Professor Flitwick, tapping the thread with his wand worriedly. ‘It appears you accidentally casted the conjoining charm.’

Conjoining charm?

Flitwick pointed his wand at the two girls’ interlocking hands and performed the separating charm. But the thread did not disappear. The head of Ravenclaw house widened his eyes, looking baffled.

‘P-professor…’Ginny stuttered, her stomach giving a funny lurch. ‘Can you not remove it?’

‘By the looks of it, Miss Weasley,’ Flitwick continued, stroking his chin thoughtfully. ‘You might have casted a semi-permanent charm. As it wasn’t the correct wand-motion, this would fall under the banner of an experimental spell. There isn’t much we can do but wait until it disappears.’

‘Semi p-permanent?’ Ginny stuttered, her eyes growing wider in shock. ‘How long do you think it will take to wear off?’

‘Oh- I’d say just under a day.’ Flitwick said, matter-of-factly.

‘A day?!’

‘Oh well,’ said Luna, brightly. ‘I guess we’ll have to wait for it to disappear.’

Ginny looked round at her. Luna was smiling sweetly, and not looking remotely embarrassed to have their hands joined the way they were.

‘I’ll pass on the message to your other classes today, so you can take the rest of the day off,’ said Flitwick. ‘Obviously, you won’t be able to write anything down if your hands are tied together.’

Ginny nodded nervously.

‘Are you okay, Ginny?’ Luna asked, as Professor Flitwick moved back to his desk, and the class resumed their practice of their charm.

Ginny’s felt her heart give a heavy thud.

‘Yeah, I’m fine.’

This is really bad, she thought, this is really bad…

The two of them left Charms class at the back of the class. Thankfully, the thread was loose enough for their hands to move around, so that it appeared like they were walking hand-in-hand.

Something that Ginny began to notice very quickly. She could the confused stares of other students as they walked along the corridor. Ginny didn’t normally hold hands with her female friends (that was more of a Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil thing), so she felt somewhat self-conscious.

‘So, I was thinking,’ chirped Luna, her eyes wide and cheerful. ‘Maybe we should have a look over what we’ll be missing in the lessons we’re not going to.’

‘Er, yeah,’ said Ginny, rubbing her neck with her free hand. It felt rather warm. ‘That sounds good.’

She continued to feel self-conscious as they made their way to the library to look over their textbooks. Madam Pince gave them a searching look as they entered, and Ginny felt the stares of other students as the two of them sat pouring over their transfiguration books. Luna seemed largely oblivious to those around them, and kept whispering to Ginny about how best they could do their homework for the day. Ginny didn’t trust herself to reply, but nodded occasionally. She prayed that Luna didn’t think she was being rude, but Ginny’s heart felt like it was in her mouth, and her stomach kept squirming uncomfortably whenever she looked at Luna’s hand wrapped softly around hers.

Several hours later (it felt far longer to Ginny), the two of them left the library. The sun was sinking low in the sky. The two of them grabbed some food from the kitchens. Ginny suggested this, not wanting to attract more stares in Great Hall. Holding hands was one thing, but either of them sitting at each-others house tables would have gained even more attention.

They decided it was best that they go to the Gryffindor common-room. Technically, members of other houses weren’t allowed in, but Ginny wanted to escape the stares of the other students. At least in the common-room, she would only have to contend with other Gryffindors staring at them, instead of the whole school.

‘Ginny, I was just wondering,’ Luna said thoughtfully, breaking Ginny’s reverie as they climbed through a secret passageway behind a false tapestry. ‘If this thread is going to stay on our hands for an entire day, does that mean we’ll be sleeping together?’

Ginny spun round, her eyes wide in shock. Unfortunately, one of her feet collided with Luna’s, and their legs tangled together. All Ginny saw was Luna’s surprised face as Ginny slammed into her.

There was an almighty crash.

Ginny opened her eyes. With dawning terror, she realised that she had fallen on top of Luna, and their faces were barely inches from each-other. Ginny could feel Luna’s stomach touching her own, and she could smell Luna’s vanilla scent.

‘I’m-I’m so sorry!’ Ginny stuttered, feeling her face flush. ‘Luna, are you okay?’

Luna nodded, not quite meeting Ginny’s eyes. Was Luna slightly red in the face? No, it must have been Ginny’s imagination.

Ginny awkwardly climbed to her feet, and helped Luna up.

Fanning her face slightly, Ginny tried to ignore the growing sense of trepidation in her stomach.

Sleeping together…

Ginny bit her lip nervously. Of course, she knew that they would probably have to sleep in the same bed, but Luna had said it so…casually that it shocked her.

Was Luna really not as bothered by that as Ginny was?

Of course she isn’t bothered, Ginny told herself sternly, she’s not the one in love with her friend…

Ginny felt her heart give a sad little thud inside her chest as they walked up the corridor towards the entrance to Gryffindor Tower.

The Fat Lady raised an eyebrow as they approached. Her friend Violet (who was sat next to her) pursed her lips thoughtfully.

‘Is that a Ravenclaw?’ The Fat Lady asked, suspiciously. ‘You know that’s against the rules!’

Ginny let out a groan. She had been worried about this.

‘Come on,’ she urged imploringly. ‘It’s unavoidable!’

‘Rules are rules!’ The Fat Lady exclaimed. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t let non-Gryffindors into—’

Violet leaned in and whispered something into the Fat Lady’s ear. Her eyebrows’ contracted slightly as she listened, and a shrewd, mischievous look formed in her eyes.

Ginny looked round, puzzled, at Luna, who shrugged.

‘On second thoughts,’ The Fat Lady continued, addressing both Ginny and Luna this time. ‘I will allow the Ravenclaw into the tower.’

‘But what about rules being—’

‘Do I need to repeat myself?’ The Fat Lady asked, somewhat haughtily, as she swung open. ‘Now enter before I change my mind again!’

Ginny raised an eyebrow, but walked forward towards the portrait hole. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Violet give her and Luna a surreptitious wink.

Ginny’s felt her neck turn slightly red.

‘No. Way.’

B*gg*r, thought Ginny.

Fred and George had risen out of seats in the common-room, and were standing in the common-room on the other side of the portrait hole. Their mouths had fallen open in apparent shock.

‘Okay,’ Ginny began, raising a hand to call for calm. ‘Before you all start going off the handle, there’s a very reasonable explanation for—’

‘You and Luna- holding hands? Are you two—?’

Ginny felt her face burning. She hoped Luna wouldn’t see.

‘No, you pr*ts!’ Ginny yelled, feeling very self-conscious. ‘Our hands got stuck together in Charms! Accidental experimental spell…’

She trailed off, feeling very self-conscious. The whole of the surprisingly-full common-room had turned to look at the two girls; with many students’ eyes lingering on Ginny’s hand gripping Luna’s.

‘Really?’ asked George, looking a little skeptical.

‘Sounds a little suspicious to me,’ said Fred, moving forward and staring at Ginny suspiciously. ‘Especially since it’s Luna we’re talking about. Weren’t you staring at her over breakfast this morning—’

‘THAT’S ENOUGH!’

Ron strode forward, looking irritable, and stood in between Ginny and Fred, facing his older brother.

‘What’s it to you, ickle prefect?’ sniggered Fred, mischievously. ‘I didn’t have you down as Ginny’s bodyguard.’

Ron’s ears turned red. Always a danger sign.

‘It’s their own business,’ he said forcefully, glaring at Fred with his eyes narrowed. ‘You need to back off.’

‘Come on, Fred,’ said George, nudging his twin with his elbow. ‘He’s right. Look- you’re embarrassing her.’

Fred looked round at Ginny’s blushing face, and his features softened.

‘Sorry, Gin,’ he said, looking a little sorry for himself. He turned to Luna. ‘Er, welcome to Gryffindor Tower, Luna- hope you have a…good time.’

Luna’s eyes widened slightly.

Fred and George sat back down, and began to talk to Lee Jordan.

Ron turned round to face Ginny and Luna.

‘I swear, I’m not trying to make a habit of this,’ he said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

Ginny chuckled.

‘It’s okay, Ron,’ she said, and she meant it. ‘Thanks.’

Ron smiled.

‘Listen,’ he said, scratching his long nose. ‘About what Fred was saying...’

Ginny felt her face burn again. Was her crush on Luna really that obvious?

‘None of us mind, if that’s what you’re worried about,’ Ron continued, looking a little embarrassed. ‘Whatever the case is, we just want you to be happy.’

Ginny felt her head spinning. How on earth did Ron possibly know that she loved Luna? He was usually as dense as anything.

‘Er- okay.’

Ron’s eyes lingered for a second on Luna and Ginny’s intertwined hands. He gave Ginny a small encouraging grin, and walked off across the common-room to a table where Hermione and Harry were sitting. Ginny saw Hermione give Ron a glowing look, and Ron’s ears turned red. Ginny couldn’t help but smile.

Luna squeezed Ginny’s hand softly.

‘Ginny- shall we head up to your room, then?’

Ginny’s stomach gave another lurch.

‘Okay, Luna,’ she said, praying that her face wasn’t blushing.

They climbed the stairs to the girls’ dormitory. Ginny was glad that they were out of the common-room, and away from the startled stares of her fellow Gryffindors.

Before Ginny knew it, they were inside her dormitory. Thankfully, her room-mates had not come up to bed yet.

‘Er, shall we—?’ Ginny offered, pointing awkwardly at her bed. Luna nodded.

They sat down on Ginny’s bed, and kicked off their shoes. Luna wasn’t wearing socks underneath, and Ginny tried not to stare at how beautiful Luna’s feet looked in the warm candlelight of the dormitory.

Luna began to take off her robes, using a severing charm to undo the seams on the arm attached to Ginny. Ginny couldn’t help but feel her heart beat faster as the robes fell away to reveal a simple blouse and dark trousers underneath.

‘Ginny- is everything okay?’

Ginny felt her face burn. She had been staring at Luna with her mouth hanging slightly open.

‘S-sorry,’ she stuttered, looking down at her feet. ‘I just thought…you-you look really pretty.’

‘Thank you, Ginny!’ Luna beamed, dimples appearing in her cheeks. Ginny’s heart gave a heavy thud.

Luna reached over and used the same severing charm on Ginny’s robes, and the dark material fell away. Ginny tried not to feel self-conscious- she was just wearing on old Weasley jumper and a pair of frayed jeans underneath.

‘You look very pretty too, Ginny!’ Luna chirped, as she hung their robes on a wall-hook nearby. Butterflies exploded in Ginny’s stomach, and she tried not to grin like an idiot. Luna had called her pretty…

‘Time to sleep, then,’ Luna said. Ginny pulled back the covers, and the two of them climbed under. The thread between their hands meant that they would have to sleep facing each-other. Ginny extinguished the candles with her wand, and swung the curtains around the four-poster closed. It felt like they were in a little word of their own. Ginny could smell Luna’s sweet breath as she lay down next to her.

Luna curled her legs up underneath her body, and closed her eyes. Within a few moments, her breathing had slowed. Her chest rose and fell quietly as she slept.

Ginny stared at her, unable to sleep.

Luna was so…unusual. She didn’t seem to have minded all that had happened to the two of them today, and Ginny appreciated that she was making the best of the situation.

But still, it made Ginny’s heart beat sadly that Luna was so…relaxed around her.

Of course she isn’t, Ginny scolded herself, she’s not in love with you…

The thought did little to make her feel better.

Ginny must have fallen asleep at some point, because when she next came to, sunlight was shining softly into the dormitory. It couldn’t have been any earlier than daybreak.

Luna was still sleeping, breathing softly next to Ginny. The thread was still entwined around their hands.

Ginny eased herself quietly onto her elbow, and stared at the blonde Ravenclaw girl. There couldn’t have been much more than a few inches between their two bodies, but it felt like a million miles to Ginny.

‘Oh, Luna,’ Ginny murmured to herself, keeping her voice low so as not to wake her dorm-mates. ‘Why did I have to fall in love with you? It makes everything so complicated.’

Luna’s eyes flickered slightly, but she continued to sleep.

Ginny let out a sad little sigh.

Carefully, she leaned over, cupped Luna’s face softly in her hands, and pressed her lips to Luna’s. Her lips were soft against Ginny’s.

‘Oy- Ginny!’

It was one of Ginny’s dorm-mates. Ginny pulled away from Luna, her heart in her mouth.

‘W-what?’ she squeaked, sitting up.

‘We’re going down to breakfast now.’

Ginny breathed a sigh of relief.

‘O-okay,’ she said. ‘I’ll meet you down there.’

She heard the door slam shut behind them.

‘Oh- morning, Ginny,’

Ginny whipped round. Luna had opened her eyes, and was peering up at Ginny.

‘M-morning,’ Ginny stammered, trying to compose her face. ‘Good sleep?’

Luna sat up, so that her face was level with Ginny.

‘Oh, yes,’ she said, smiling slightly. ‘But waking up to you kissing me was even better.’

Ginny felt her mouth fall open, and her face burn.

‘You- you were awake?’ she squealed, terrified. ‘Luna, I’m-I’m so sorry!’

Luna inclined her head to the side, looking puzzled.

‘What would you be sorry about?’ she asked, still smiling. ‘It was very nice, Ginny. I’ve never been kissed by a friend before.’

Ginny’s stomach felt like it was melting into her legs.

‘Although,’ Luna continued, a slight blush appearing on her cheeks. ‘I suppose we’re more than just friends now, considering that you’re….in love with me.’ ’

Ginny’s heart flew into her mouth, and her stomach gave an enormous lurch. Luna had heard her confession- she’s hadn’t been asleep.

‘W-wait!’ she stuttered, her head spinning. ‘Luna, people don’t just become more than friends because one is in love with the other. That usually only happens when…when….’

She trailed off. Luna moved her face closer, so that Ginny could count the eyelashes on each of Luna’s grey eyes.

‘When both fall in love with each-other?’ Luna finished, looking happier than Ginny had ever seen her. ‘Yes. I love you, Ginny Weasley.’

Luna cupped Ginny’s startled face in her free hand, and tenderly brought her lips to Ginny’s.

Ginny’s brain seemed to malfunction. All she could think about was Luna’s sweet lips against hers, and the sweet vanilla scent of her hair, and how soft her skin of her palm was against Ginny’s face.

After what felt like several glorious hours, their lips parted. Ginny was breathing heavily, and she could feel her heart pounding in her ears. Her hair was probably a mess, and her palms were sweaty, but she found it hard to care.

‘D-do you really mean it?’ Ginny asked, taking Luna’s free hand in hers.

Luna nodded, her eyes sparkling.

Ginny leaned in towards Luna, and the two of them eased backwards onto the bed, so that Ginny was lying atop of Luna. Their hands were clasped together, and Ginny could feel Luna’s body pressed against hers.

Ginny pressed her lips to Luna’s again, and Luna moaned slightly. As one, their free hands disconnected and found each-others hair; Luna’s pale fingers stroking Ginny’s tangled red knots, and Ginny’s hand losing itself in Luna’s dirty-blonde locks.

Unbeknownst to both of them, the magical thread began to dissolve, leaving only their two entwined hands, which continued to hold each-other tenderly.

Thanks for reading, everyone- hope you liked it! This is one of my first time writing using a trope (in this case, a spell going wrong and forcing people together). I love writing Linny, so this was really enjoyable to write.

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