brutally soft.

but what do i do with all this leftover love? my hands were built for crawling on. how do i write myself gently? how do i not worship the shipwreck that stranded me here? parvati patil gryffindor. 8th yr. seer. lost.

[oliver-lund-blog]

Indirectly || CLOSED

[parvcti-blog]

oliver-rivers:

As much as Oliver hated this, his mind took a turn. This could actually be fun.  He wasn’t going to be rude or anything, but it might be entertaining to watch her squirm.  She did deserve at least that after what she did to her sister, right?  He wondered how she would react if he was actually nice to her.  Oliver certainly wasn’t the manipulative type, but he always had been curious.

Oliver cocked an eyebrow at her.  He wasn’t sure if she was trying to joke around or if it was some sort of an insult, so he just let it go.  “I guess you can say that.” He shrugged, looking back at his now empty seat where his friend just came back to, looking around confused.  After he locked eyes with Oliver, he just joined another group.  Oliver drew his wand. “Okay, it can’t be that hard.”

Parvati was a confident being: she took pride in her strength and her character and appearance and there was no one she needed to keep that confidence up. Still, there were things she disliked -- or even despised -- about herself: her emotions, which so often took control; her tendency to flee from things that got too complicated and the way she was filled with regrets, without actually doing something about it.

She was sure Oliver saw all these things and more. Parvati would be lying if she didn’t care, but she had pride enough not to fuss over it. Her opinion of herself would not be changed by the likes of Oliver Rivers, no matter how much he looked down upon her. “Well, get on with it, then,” she said, cocking her head to the side. “And you’d better not screw up.”

[parvcti-blog]

seamvs-finnigan:

When someone in front of Seamus turned around and he saw that it was Parvati, Lavender’s best friend, he froze for just a moment. He’d not really been thinking when he spoke, maybe it’d sounded rude to Parvati’s ear - he hadn’t meant to speak ill will, of course, he had always loved that about Lavender, that she was the sun of her own solar system - but he barely had time to worry over it before Parvati pulled him into a hug. 

He returned the hug firmly and without hesitation. The Gryffindors in his year - there’d always been something that drew him close to them, all of them. Maybe it was that they’d been through so much, a new disaster every year, it’d seemed. But he cared for all of them so deeply. And now that Lavender was gone, it was like… a hole had been roughly carved out of them, or like they were a puzzle missing the last piece. It made Seamus want to keep the rest of the puzzle pieces safe and locked away where he’d be sure the others wouldn’t get lost as well. 

And Parvati, it had to be the worst for her, worse than Seamus felt, because she’d been the closest to Lavender out of all of them. He could rarely remember seeing one girl without the other close by, at least in the last four, maybe five years. Parvati, and Lavender, and sometimes Romilda, too… their joint laughter had always seemed to echo through Gryffindor Tower, which made this year’s silence even the more mournful. 

So Seamus hugged Parvati tightly. It wasn’t much, but it was all he could do. 

When she pulled away, he could see that her face was streaked with tears. But at least she agreed, about Lavender loving the ceremony. The whole school felt her loss - it was only a shame she wasn’t here to properly appreciate it. Oh, damn it all, Seamus thought as he felt his own eyes begin to well up. He began furiously blinking in an attempt to get it to stop. 

“Yeah,” he said with an earnest nod as he rubbed his eyes hastily. “Oh, she’d protest about ya cryin’ over her, but in that way she had where ya knew she didn’t really want ya to stop.” He paused and swallowed. “It’s hard, without her. Are ya doin’ okay, Parvati?” Stupid question. “Well, obviously not, but…” Seamus shrugged helplessly. “I know you must miss her most of all.”

There were so many who had thought Lavender as a silly, shallow girl, but Seamus was one of the people who knew that she had been so much more than that. That she had been clever and funny and so damned brave (if she had only been a little less brave, maybe she’d still be here --- but Parvati didn’t dare think that) and even more than that. A whole person, just like everyone else.

The hug was what she had needed, she realised. The feeling of comfort, rather than words meant to soothe and mend her broken heart, was something that made her feel more stable. As if she was more whole for a moment, as if duct tape was piecing her together for only a little while. They needed to stick together; she and her friends, she and those who were left, because graduation was nearing and she could not imagine a world where they were no longer close.

She let herself cry, there on his shoulder. Black mascara tears stained his shirt and she would apologise later, because ruining someone else’s clothes was a sin according to her (and Lavender, too). Parvati let herself go in that embrace, thinking of all the thoughts that haunted her. All those what-ifs were running through her mind and leaving her body through salty streaks of water, because those what-ifs didn’t matter.

Lavender was still dead. All the others were still dead. Thinking of what could have happened only drove people mad.

She saw his eyes burn, but didn’t comment on it. Crying was a private thing, even when it happened in public, and she did not want to make it into a thing. It did break her heart, though, to see him like this: Seamus, with his Irish accent and quick humour and liveliness, looking a bit lost as well.

She hated that this was who they had become.

“She’d also protest about me ruining my make-up,” she said, laughing through her tears. “But she’d have loved it either way.” And she would have: Lavender liked attention. Truth was that everyone did, but she had just been a bit more up-front about it, and that was not all bad. Then he asked if she was okay and she shrugged. Saying no felt weak, saying yes was a lie. “I don’t know. It’s all a mess. I don’t know what to do without her, Shay.” Parvati wiped at her eyes. “I just miss her, you know?” Tears welled up again and she didn’t even get angry at herself for it; she had known that she missed her, but to say it was rough. “And you? Are you holding up?”

[parvcti-blog]

the ones that love us never really leave us.

[parvcti-blog]

erniexmacmillan:

Ernest was glad the event took place but the atmosphere was heavy and difficult to take in. Ernie have never been good at being sympathetic or reading emotions but even him could notice the sorrow that surrounded his friends’s hearts. He was in pain too. He thanked God because Hannah, Justin  and Laura were still around and he cherished their lived more than his but, seeing all the people that have lost a friend, a brother, a sister, a lover…made him think about what would have done if something like that happened to himself.

Ernie have seen people die in front of him eyes; he have heard the cries of children trying to run away from the evil force that tried to swallow them alive, he had fought, he probably have killed in the name of the light but a bit part of him wondered if that had been the right thing to do.

Ernie, just like the majority of his classmates was still a mess but he hel his head high, because the war was gone and they were still standing, honoring the lives that we have lost. The deserved to stand tall, they deserved to share their grief..they deserved to have hope.

Ernie looked around and saw a small figure shaking in the middle of place. Hannah and him had gone different ways, both trying to have their time to take it all in but as she saw Parvati crunching, trying to hold the tears inside of her, something in him moved. The boy moved towards her and even though he knew that he’ll probably won’t be well received, he placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“It was.” he said simply with a small, recomforting smile. He could give those every once in a while. “it’s nice to know so many came too.” he said as he looked around. “It makes me feel less alone, you know?”

Was this all they were now? Scarred young adults, unable to deal with their trauma as they were constantly surrounded by the place where it had all happened? Parvati felt it all around her, the way everyone was marked by what had happened; especially those who had been at the battle.

They had all seen so much death and pain and Parvati ached for everyone around her. She wasn’t sure how to let it go: she had always been all feeling, but where before she had been that rationally, she was now overemotional, touchy. Maybe she should not have come back, maybe she should’ve just found a small job and practised Divination; being back felt too overwhelming at all times.

But then there were moments where it didn’t. Solidarity had linked many of the people of Hogwarts together and there was strength there. It was okay to cry and so much judgement seemed to be gone. Or maybe it was still there, maybe Parvati was just thinking of cliches and happy endings to soothe her own sorrows.

Ernie was there, though, squeezing her shoulder, and she felt a little lighter. This wasn’t all bad, this memorial. Yes, she was picking at scabs and reopening wounds, but only to let them heal better, more smoother. While the air was heavy with the grief and memories they all shared, it was also thick with an unspoken support. At least, that’s how Parvati felt.

She nodded, wiping at her cheeks and giving the other a thankful smile. “Yeah, exactly,” Parvati agreed. “It’s good, to remember what happened with a lot of people. And it’s ... respectful to all those who died,  y’know?” She swallowed. “You doing okay, Ernie?” A stupid question.

[parvcti-blog]

understanding / romilda & parvati

While the wand-raising ceremony was leaving Parvati with mixed feelings --- remembering all that loss hurt, but at the same time did help --- she knew she had to thank Romilda for holding it. She also felt the need the simply seek her out; Romilda understood what she was going through, as she mourning the same person as she was.

Not that it was exactly the same: their friendships with Lavender had differed, as no friendships were the same. Sure, they had their similarities: they had both been close with her, were both often seen linking arms with her, but the differences were staggering to Parvati. After all, she doubted that the other had harbored the same feelings she had for Lavender. On another hand, she didn’t think it impossible: to her, it seemed pretty damn impossible to not love Lavender in the way she had.

But now she was gone. Lavender had connected Romilda and her before, and now they were still linked together by the thread that she had connected them with. Being around Romilda made Parvati more aware of Lavender’s death because of this, but this wasn’t necessarily bad. Sometimes it was comforting to be around Romilda, as it felt so very familiar and trusted. 

That hole where Lavender used to be, was always there, though.

Parvati was moving past people, some looking numb and tired, others crying and others talking quietly. The tension was both one of comfort and pain, and she didn’t know what to do with it. Eyes soon fell on Romilda, though, and she approached the other. “Thank you,” she murmured immediately, embracing the other. “For all of this. You’re a star.”

@romixvane

[parvcti-blog]

padmapat:

Guess the sorting hat has already foreseen what would happen when he placed Padma in Ravenclaw and she was really glad it did. She was neither outspoken nor open but rather quiet and hardworking, a total opposite unlike her twin. That was why when she hung out with her, she was usually an outcast, the shadow and was known as ‘Parvati’s shadow’. Now looking back, it was really naive of her to believe that just by sticking around her twin would make her notice her and still be close despite Lavender’s existence. She was glad that she managed to grow out of her old shell, to forget the past and move ahead, ultimately finding life more enjoyable. 

Although for the first few weeks, she has to admit that she was unable to forget about the reality that she just lost a lifelong friend and sister to a mere blonde. Padma barely came out of her room, with the exception of classes and meals. She got quieter than usual which actually worry those around her. Her fellow Ravenclaw students and her roommates. They knew about the argument between the twins since it was such a news back then. It was then they decided to approach Padma, to make her open up to them. They forced her to join them after class and make her get involved in their conversations by asking for her opinions and getting to know her. Slowly but surely, Padma became comfortable with their presence and open up to her new bunch of friends. 

No one mentioned about the past and especially her sister and she was relieved that they did not. Just at the mention of her name literally ruined the atmosphere which got really tensed and awkward. Padma felt disgusted by her sister, for leaving her in the corner back then. Like who would be so stubborn to leave a sibling that has gone through thick and thin to a girl whom she barely met for lesson than ten years? She could have swore that Parvati lost it and got heavily influenced by Lavender that she forgot who she used to be. 

“…and that’s the end of classes for today. You’re dismissed. Don’t forget to look up on the five most dangerous potions in the library.” Professor Slughorn announced as the students began to pack up their things and leave the classroom. Padma hugged her books as she made her way towards the door with her friends, only to see a familiar face outside among the crowd. Her smiley expression immediately turned sour as she neared the girl. “I’ll meet you girls in the common room?” Her friends nodded and left her alone, knowing that Padma needed some privacy when they saw Parvati outside. 

She stood at the side of the class as her sister approached her. Her facial expression still as cold as ever. “If it’s another attempt to reconcile, you’re just wasting your time. We both know that isn’t happening and please just save your breath.”

Parvati often thought back to that day and the ones leading up to it and following it, trying to find the reason why everything was smashed into such tiny pieces. She knew that Padma blamed it all on her, and Parvati wished she could too, but she knew that it was more than those words she had spoken. She knew her words had hurt, that she had been in no place to say them, but she also knew that words weren’t enough to break a bond as strong as theirs had once been.

When she had been younger, she had blamed an invincible force. Now, she blamed her sister, too. It takes two people to destroy a relationship, and while her words had set the whole thing in motion, her sister had also partaken in their destruction. It had been Padma who had continued it, who had dodged apologies and refused to reconcile --- even if Parvati was late. It was Padma who had been jealous, who had told Parvati to stop talking about something that truly made her happy. 

Parvati wished, though, that she could just blame herself. That would be easier to live with. Then, perhaps, she could move on and leave her sister be.

The coldness in Padma’s face made her freeze up. The muscles in her face grew tight and Parvati gave the other a look of both disappointment. She watched the rest of the Potions class walk away, eyes narrowed as their backs turned around the corner, trying to find the right words. She realised Padma was just as stubborn as her. 

If they had the same goals, they would be a damned good team. One brawny, one brainy, both stubborn. In stead, they were cold and distant and strangers.

“You’re not even going to hear me out?,” she asked, eyebrows raised. Parvati told herself to keep herself in check, to not let her emotions get the best of her (again). But they were loud: anger and impatience and sadness were screaming inside her chest and she wished to yell at Padma that they had to fix this before it was completely over. She also wished to hug her. 

She wondered if Padma wore a different perfume than the one she had worn years ago.

“Listen --- Pad, we have to talk one of these days, don’t we? It’s time,” she said, tone softer. The use of the nickname had gone unintentional, and she hated how easy it was to slip back in old behaviours. “We can’t go on like this, can we? I can’t. I --- I want to forgive you and I need you to forgive me, if you can. Not immediately, but ... slowly, you know? I want to set steps to fix this. Real steps.”

She swallowed, thickly. She felt her eyes burn -- she cried so easily these days -- and forbade herself to show them, not when Padma was looking so stoic and the tension was so heavy. In stead, she looked at her, eyes filled with a need for her sister to agree with her.

[seamvs-finnigan-blog]

Seamus rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably as he wandered through the wand raising ceremony, trying to find someone he knew so that he could stand by them awkwardly, instead of standing alone awkwardly. Either way, he knew, awkwardness would be unavoidable. 

Initially, he wasn’t sure that the ceremony was all that good of an idea. It was just… it’d been months. All summer, really. And everything was finally getting back to normal. Not that he wanted to forget everything that had happened… but he had hoped that people would move on from their grief. Dragging all that pain and sorrow back into the light again - Seamus wasn’t sure what good that was going to do anyone, other than remind them of everything they’d lost.

MASH - whatever that stood for, he could never remember - might be useful to some students, sure. But mostly, he felt like the whole situation was just prolonging the tragedy of last year. He felt guilty, thinking that, but he couldn’t help it. The sobbing, the tearful reminiscences… it was too much like the aftermath of the battle, when bodies had littered the floor. The bodies were gone, but their ghosts had returned, in a sense, to remind the whole school of the emotional damage it had sustained. 

At the same time, although the ceremony was optional, he couldn’t not come, just for one reason: one of the deceased students being honored was Lavender Brown. And as much as he didn’t want to think about her gruesome end, it felt wrong to turn a blind eye to the gathering, especially when he’d known her so well. 

“Lavender always did love to be the center of attention,” Seamus said aloud, the hint of a smile on his face despite the circumstances. 

[parvcti-blog]

Lavender always did love to be the center of attention. It wasn’t said with malice or with mockery, but with a small smile and Parvati turned around. It had been Seamus’ familiar voice that had spoken those words and she didn’t hesitate when she pulled him in a hug.

She wasn’t sure if he wanted her to, but it felt as the only right thing to do. Besides that, Parvati wasn’t sure what to say: the ghost of Lavender had left her speechless and nothing that she said was right; everything was a jumble of words that did not do her justice, that did not do the way she had felt about her justice.

How could she express what Lavender had meant to her when she had been too afraid to tell Lavender herself? Did she even want to? Parvati was, again, unsure; it seemed like that was all she was, these days. Filled with uncertainty and regret, so much fucking regret. It was bound to spill over one of these days, slip over her edges and flood everything around her.

It didn’t just yet, and Parvati pulled back from the hug, shaking her thoughts. Seamus was mourning too. He had lost a friend too. It wasn’t just her, who was filled with longing for those who had long passed, and she could not prioritise her own thoughts and worries over those of her friends.

“She did,” she said, laughing, crying. She couldn’t help it and in all honesty, Parvati felt no need to keep her tears contained. Not on that day. “She’d have loved this, people crying for her. If there’s a heaven and she’s up there, I bet she’s enjoying this badly.” Parvati didn’t believe in in heaven, but rather in reincarnation, but she still found it a soothing thought nonetheless.

[oliver-lund-blog]

Indirectly || CLOSED

@parvcti

Padma was his best friend, and it was as simple as that.  They were friends, but only a few years ago the incident happened between her and Parvati which activated his protective instinct and drew them even closer together.  Since that point, Oliver pretty much couldn’t stand her sister, or even being in the same room with her because of what she did to his friend.  Still, when he had no other choice but to interact with her, he was cordial, even now after the war.  Padma might be mad at her now, but it was still her sister after all.  What right did he have? And he wasn’t going to risk his friendship for some snarky comment.

Somehow, he found himself in one of those very awkward instances.  He was sitting across from one of his friends in charms class, and then when he got up to move, the professor assumed he didn’t have a partner and told him to go sit with the Gryffindor girl.  Just trying to be a good student since Flitwick was his head of house after all, he obliged.  “So, er, what have we got going?” He asked, not finding it as easy to be friendly as before.

[parvcti-blog]

Parvati cursed Flitwick in her mind for this. While she had nothing against Oliver, there was a certain unspoken rule between them that they didn’t interact. He was close with Padma and Parvati and Padma barely spoke, and so it was simple: they did not either. She figured that the other probably didn’t think too highly of her either, due to the one-sided view he had gotten on their fight, but also because he did have pretty good reason to feel so. In all truth, Parvati felt shame rise to her cheeks when she was around Padma’s friends, and that was something she preferred to avoid.

Now, she couldn’t though. She did not feel like throwing a scene by refusing to work with him and she was sure they could keep their cool attitude going and do their work nonetheless. “Not paying attention, then?,” she asked, meaning to sound playful but not being sure if it worked. Parvati pointed at the page in front of her, giving the other a small smile in an attempt to ease the tension. “We’ve got to disillusion each other. Wanna go first?” She was in a hurry to get this over with; the sooner they were done, the better.

[parvcti-blog]

lionhearted-neville:

Neville laughed a little bit at her words–Parvati was tough, of course a suit of armor wouldn’t be enough to take her down. Still, he was glad that she was okay and that she hadn’t gotten hurt, although he suspected that maybe what they had once considered getting hurt now barely registered to them. Sure, all kids grew out of scraped knees and bumped heads, but even things like sprains and lacerations seemed like small potatoes. Many of them had almost died, after all. It was hard to see the significance of small wounds and mild injuries in the aftermath of that. They all had scars of some type, whether they were mental or physical, to commemorate the fact that they now had a much higher pain tolerance than most of the population. Lucky them.

“Well, I’m glad that I don’t have to take you to the hospital wing, at least,” he said, smiling. “I’m also glad that I don’t have to show that suit of armor who’s boss, because I’m not sure I could take him.” Neville usually wasn’t funny, but with people like Parvati it was easier for him to let his guard down. They weren’t all that close, but she’d always felt like the kind of person that he could relax a little bit around. She didn’t ever really judge him–in fact, she’d defended him in their very first flying class. Maybe that was why he felt a little more comfortable around her than he did some other people.

He brightened at the prospect of going outside. The castle still felt stifling, too large and too empty but suffocating at the same time–it had been like that ever since they’d come back to school. The only time Neville felt like he could breathe was when he was either outdoors or in the greenhouses, not trapped within the stone walls. A walk around the lake sounded like exactly what he needed, and he was grateful to Parvati for inviting him along. He wasn’t the kind of person that people invited to do things like that, probably because he could be horrifically awkward. It was nice that she was willing to let him tag along on her walk.

“Sounds brilliant,” he said, smiling wider. “I think I could use the fresh air. Things have been… sort of different since we’ve been back, haven’t they?” Neville wrinkled his nose a bit–did every word out of his mouth have to sound so awkward? “I mean, I’ve been spending more time outside than I ever did before. The castle just feels different, but the grounds feel kind of the same, I guess. I don’t really know how to describe it.” He shrugged his shoulders, holding her things out to her once she repaired her bag.

To be around those she had trusted during last year, who had fought like she had, was strange but comforting at the same time. Strange, because she could somehow feel her experiences weigh heavier than they did usually. (People who said that bad experiences made a person stronger were stupid, because they did so much more than that. Sometimes they made you weak and sad and frightened. Sometimes they just sucked.) Comfortable, because she knew that -- one way or another -- they understood, as they had gone through the same thing. Which, in turn made her angry: none of them should’ve gone through last year.

“As am I; Pomfrey kinda scares me,” she admitted. “Besides, that’d be damned embarassing, having to go there and explain you were hurt by a suit of armor, of all things.” Then, she let out a soft laugh. “Now I kinda want to see you fight it, not going to lie.” Parvati was glad that this conversation was light, funny: so many people wallowed in dread -- she, included -- and it was good to have a silly conversation every now and then. “He deserves to get his ass kicked, after all. Or her ass.”

Parvati, too, found herself to the grounds more and more. It was a relief to be outside, surrounded by calmness and quiet, rather than be stuck in the castle, which was so full of memories. Before, most of her time was spent in the common room or the courtyard, around people -- with Lav on her side at most times -- but since she had come back it had sometimes become stiffling. At other times, however, she needed people around her; she was constantly switching between wishing to be alone and wishing to be part of a large crowd. 

“I s’pose you could say that, yeah,” said Parvati, not pointing out that that was quite the understatement. She didn’t blame him for understating the truth, you see: she preferred to do the same. “No, no, I get it, no worries. I feel the same.” She took her things, shoving them in her bag and saying a little prayer in the hopes that it wouldn’t rip again. Once done, she started walking, expecting Neville to follow suit. “It’s just a bit lighter outside, right? All of it? In here it’s just ... I don’t know, it’s kind of spoiled or something, but the grounds are ... untainted, I guess.”

[parvcti-blog]

light-laura:

Laura couldn’t help but smile warmly once she heard the idea of repairing Parvarti’s bag - she wasn’t sure how affective or how long one of those would last, and none of them wanted to go through the process of picking things in the floor again. But what actually made her smile was a fact about her own bag that she hadn’t shared with the older girl yet. “Don’t worry, I could use the company too! It’s always good to make new friends and if that’s a way, I’m eager to help however I can.” Laura said and meant it - she didn’t mind telling people she wanted to be friends with them just as much as she never minded helping for no reason.

“Actually, my bag was made by a friend of my mum, as a gift. It’s not very beautiful but I’m a musician, so I need something that can support the weight of my instruments even when I use a spell to make them smaller. This thing here does the trick.” There was a sense of pride in her voice, one related to the gratification of having an object good enough to carry most of the things she needed, and Laura was happy to share the information; not to show off or anything, but just to be sure Parvarti knew there was no problem in carrying her things.

“Are you going somewhere once you leave your Common Room? I was going to the field, to play some Quidditch, but that’s just because I have nothing to do.” That wasn’t actually the whole truth - some of her friends would be there and it was in her plans for the day, but they didn’t actually need her to train and she very much wanted to spend some time with the older girl.

It seemed to Parvati that the people who’d been in the DA shared a bond; an unspoken one, but one that was there nonetheless. Little threads connecting people who had been too young for war, but who had fought nonetheless. This she felt with Laura too, who was still so lively and cheerful despite it all. It reminded Parvati of her own liveliness, which shimmered through in moments when things seemed calm in her stomach. “You’re a doll,” she spoke, soft smile on her lips. “Laura, right?”

When Laura told her that she was a musician, Parvati raised her eyebrows out of interest. “Really? That’s so cool. I’ve been teaching myself how to sow during the summers and winters, but I’m rarely satisfied with my final products,” she said, but this was to blame on her own taste, which was specific and hard to please. Because of this, she had to agree that Laura’s bag wasn’t the most beautiful, but she didn’t say this; it hardly mattered. “What instrument do you play?”

“Didn’t have any plans, actually,” Parvati said, shrugging slightly. “But that sounds like like a good plan; it’s still good weather, we’d better enjoy it before the never ending fall rain starts.” She let out a small chuckle. “Am no good on a broom, though, but I’m a brilliant runner.”

[roryglimore]

@litladiesnetwork‘s third event: fictional woc in literature.

↳ parvati patil, harry potter series.

“parvati positively beamed. harry could tell that she was feeling guilty for having laughed at hermione in transfiguration. he looked around and saw that hermione was beaming back, if possible even more brightly. girls were very strange sometimes.”

[parvcti-blog]

Parvati was unsure how to feel.

On one hand, every part of her wished to run. Reminders of her dead best friend were all around her and she could her grief weigh heavy on her chest. Grief, that dark creature that had settled in her being, was growling and banging against her lungs and ribcage. She wasn’t sure if she could take it; this confrontation with her loss.

On another hand, she wished to stay. She owed this to Lavender, who would have loved an event in honour of her — EVEN if it was because she was dead. Parvati would betray the memory of Lav if she stayed in her dorm or a corner of the castle, hiding from what was so inescapably real. 

She stood there, pink scrunchie – that had once been Lavender’s – in her hair, just staring at everyone. Parvati was far too aware that she was not the only one grieving, and she was unable to not feel guilty for not reaching out to those around her. She could only stand there, though, afraid that if she opened her mouth she would let out a wail or a cry.

Lavender was dead. Lavender was GONE, and Parvati felt lost and alone. Lav had been her second half, the hand to hold when the world was shaking and the person who understood; who understood her temper and her love for things other thought silly and girly and stupid. She was gone and Parvati could not help but wonder what-if, what if she had been there to stand by her? 

She swallowed. Thickly. Tears slipped over her cheeks, silently but not invisibly, and she tried not to think of the stillness of Lavender’s body when she had first seen it, tried not to think of the funeral and all the things that happened after. The grief in Lavender's parents' eyes, the way she never knew what to say when she was usually chatty and lively. 

She forced herself to wipe her tears and turn to someone, to distract herself from her own mind. Otherwise she’d spiral. Spiral, spiral, spiral until she was sobbing in front of more than half of the school. In a hoarse, little voice she remarked, “This was a great idea, huh?”

[parvcti-blog]

SUMMER OF 97

Here’s how Parvati envisioned her last day at Hogwarts: big balloons and lots of laughter and a tear or two as she had to say goodbye to Trelawney, proudly graduating with her best friend on her side and perhaps her twin on her other ( in an ideal world, they’d be close again ), leaving with both excitement and sadness in her stomach. Here’s how it went in stead: her headmaster was murdered and the morning after, she was taken home by worried parents. No balloons or grandiose goodbyes, just a quick hug shared with Lavender and waving at those who were up.

PART ONE OF SUMMER BREAK: BEFORE AUG 1.

The first half of break was spent furious at her parents. How could they take her away, when all this was happening? How could they do that, unannounced and without proper reason? If they were unsafe at Hogwarts, they would not be safe at home, either. She didn’t understand their logic, not at all, and only felt more anger when she realised she was not allowed to go back next semester..

And with that in the back of her mind, Parvati spent most of her time with Lavender. They went to the beach and they went shopping and even went to a museum. With the thought of them not being able to see each other every day coming school year, they made sure they had the best summer they could. It was also spent tiptoeing around Padma, feeling heavy when she thought of having to spend a year with just her and her parents. It could be a chance to reconcile, as well as a way for things to get worse between them. 

PART TWO OF SUMMER BREAK: AFTER AUG 1. 

August 1 marked the second half of her summer break. The world took a turn for the worst as everything was taken by Voldemort and his followers. Parvati felt powerless, sitting in her bedroom reading Witch Weekly’s that talked of bikinis and Quidditch players; her interest for that faded in comparison of the worry she felt for her friends and the world in general.

It also came to light that Hogwarts attendance was mandatory purebloods. The idea of returning now seemed much less appealing than it had before, when Hogwarts was under the rule of Minerva McGonagall and not of Snape. Still, Parvati did not hesitate when her parents fought over it: she would not endanger those she loved if it meant not returning. Besides, she would not let her friends deal with all that without her there: Parvati was not rooted that way, not at all.

And so the rest of summer was spent leaving home a lot less and feeling sick with anticipation of the year that was to come. The newspapers were filled with bad news and Parvati didn’t dare read her tea-leaves, afraid that they would bring bad news. In stead, she drank coffee and did her summer homework, sent letters to those she missed and prepared herself for a schoolyear she expected would not be as fun as usual.

[parvcti-blog]

light-laura:

The first thing Laura did as soon as she heard the sound of things rolling on the floor and the noise accompanied by it was run to see what was going on - the second thing she did was help the girl whose bag had just fallen after, apparently, she got into a mess with one of the armors. 

“Are you alright?” Laura asked, almost breathless after the short run, leaning down and picking up some of the various objects that could be lost in no time. She didn’t stop to notice who it was, the owner of those objects, but a smile appeared on her face as soon as she did: one of the (nice, good people and very enjoyable companies) Patil twins! She would forever be grateful to Padma’s idea of using the Room of Requirement to sleep, and Parvati seemed just as nice as her twin.

“Here! Don’t worry, I got it.” Laura pointed the stuff, well actually showed it because her hands were full now. There was no way Parvati would be able to get her stuff inside her old bag because it was, well, destroyed to say the minimum. She decided it was almost her duty to help the older girl, and the first idea that came to her mind was to use her own bag. 

“Can you get it for me?” She moved her head so as to explain she meant her own. “I’ll carry those items for you, don’t worry! If you want to go back to your Common Room and get another bag, I can keep you company. I mean, that’s the least I can do if I’m gonna carry your items.” Laura said it with a proud voice, a happy one too; she was eager to help and part of her wanted to be noticed as well.

Kindness hadn’t vanished from this world yet. The people of Hogwarts had been treated cruelly, but many were still able to show simple acts of benevolence without being asked to. It gave her hope for the future, really; optimism was something that Parvati tried to feel desperately, because she was tired of living in a haze of self-pity and bad memories. 

When she recognised Laura Madley --- she knew her from the DA --- a small smile curled her lips. She was that kindness embodied, Parvati knew, even if she was hardly familiar with the other. It was easy to distinguish genuinely kind people from those who were not, and Parvati found they challenged her to be more like them. “Oh, yeah!,” she said, rubbing her knee for a moment. “Just annoyed at my weak ass bag, y’know.”

She watched the other pick up her stuff for a moment as she, too, was still trying to gather her things. Why her bags were always so desperately full, she didn’t know, but she felt slightly embarrassed to see all those belongings scattered over the floor. “Thank you!,” she said, picking up one of five lipsticks that had fallen from her bag. To some, it might seem ridiculous to carry more than one lipstick everywhere, but to Parvati it was more than logical. To Lavender, it would have been too; but she was trying not to think about her (but she always did when confronted with make-up, as that had been one of many interests they shared).

A bit confused, Parvati nodded at the other’s request and grabbed her bag. “You sure? It’s a lot of stuff, after all,” she said, both amused and guiltily. “I can just repair mine, too --- I don’t know how long it’ll last, but it should do the trick.” She paused and hoped that it didn’t come across as if she didn’t want Laura’s help. “But your idea works just as well; I’d love the company, either way.” And that she meant: she had never liked being alone, and Laura -- even though she didn’t know her too well -- seemed like good company.

[parvcti-blog]

lionhearted-neville:

He’d been walking to class when he heard the crash and the words of frustration.

Neville turned on his heel to see Parvati crouching on the ground, her torn bag still hanging from her arm. At least the suit of armor was still standing. Before he could think he rushed over to her, crouching before her and starting to gather up her things in his hands. She would need help carrying things with her bag in that state, and she seemed upset. While he didn’t know her all that well, they had been in the DA together and Parvati was in his house and year, so they’d come into contact on numerous occasions. He didn’t think that she would mind his help, almost definitely.

“Are you okay?” he asked, picking up another book and then stopping to look at her, his brow creased with concern. “I mean, besides your bag ripping, that is. You didn’t hurt yourself when you ran into the suit of armor, did you?” Neville, clumsy as he was, knew the dangers of running into one of them. He’d hit his head and knees and elbows on them more than once, and while he wasn’t exactly injured, he certainly had felt it for a few days. 

Parvati was one of the people who’d been around over the past school year, helping out with Dumbledore’s Army and fighting in the Battle, just like her twin sister. Still, although they were twins, they’d always seemed different to Neville. He didn’t really know any other twins apart from the Carrows, and he didn’t even really know Flora and Hestia all that well, but talking to each of the Patil twins was a different experience altogether. Neville knew that they weren’t the same person, of course, but they always seemed more different than twins were expected to be.

“Where are you heading to next?” he asked, smiling warmly at her, hoping it would help. “I can carry these for you, I don’t mind. You can’t exactly put them back in that bag and I don’t think you want to try to carry all of this stuff by yourself.”

Neville. The boy she had defended in their first flying class, stood in front of her, and she could hardly recognise him as the same person. They had all changed, of course, over those seven years, but he seemed to have changed most to her. She respected him for it; he’d changed for the better, after all, whereas she seemed to have changed for the worse (back then she had had a best friend and a twin, after all, and now she seemed to only have a gaping hole in her chest and a lot of things that she couldn’t say).

“Yeah, fine,” she said, a small, embarrassed smile on her lip, while her head screamed NO NO NO I AM NOT, BUT WHO IS THESE DAYS?! Maybe Neville was, with newfound confidence and a healthy dose of fame for all the right reasons, but she doubted it. “It’ll take more than a suit of armor to bring me down,” she added, voice laced with a dramatic tone, mocking her own words. Sure, her knee was throbbing slightly, but Parvati didn’t quite mind: she had long gotten over her fear of minor scars on her skin. There were worse things in the world than imperfect skin.

She liked Neville. He was someone she didn’t know too well on a personal level -- and if she was honest, she couldn’t imagine pouring her heart out to him over a cup of tea or a glass/bottle of wine -- but someone she liked either way. Maybe she would even consider him a friend; Parvati had never thought of deep conversations as a requirement for friendship, after all. Whether they were, she wasn’t sure, though: but they got along finely and she carried a great amount of respect for the other, especially since last year.

“Wasn’t sure, actually; I don’t have any classes left. Thought I might have a walk around the lake, if you want to join me?,” she asked, looking up as hands reaching for a pack of sugar quills. Eyes fell on her bag for a moment and she muttered a quick reparo, the fabric fixing itself in a matter of seconds. “Oh, you won’t have to! I mean, I’m sure my bag will last for a bit, thanks to the good ol’ repairing spell,” said Parvati, giving him a thankful smile nonetheless. 

[parvcti-blog]

Brave. That was what Parvati Patil was supposed to be. Her tie -- red and gold -- demanded it of her; it was a constant reminder of what she should be, of what she had been. These days she felt more cowardly than brave however; with the war over and her being heavy with grief and fatigue, there seemed no space left for bravery. 

It still lived in the crooks of her being, though, hiding in dark corners and coming out when it was needed. That day, it was; with a foolish, perhaps even reckless plan to search out her sister for another attempt to reconcile, Parvati needed that fire courage brought her. It was hard to find, though; she only felt a dread she tried to push away and a hint of determination that kept her walking, because there was no way she was going to turn away from Padma. Even if that was what her sister wanted.

Was it stubbornness, that kept her from accepting that her sister did not want to make up? Or was it guilt? Parvati supposed it was a bit of both. Either way, she was unwilling to give up on them, no matter how often Padma dodged her apologies, no matter how sickened she felt by what she had done, by what she had allowed to happen. Truth was, she missed her sister, and she knew that they had to make up before they graduated, before they were able to truly go their separate ways. 

She was moving to the dungeons, knowing her twin was about to finish Potions class, fingers fiddling with the necklace around her neck. She had never stopped wearing it -- not even after their fight -- as a feeble attempt to stay connected to Padma. When she reached the classroom, she slipped it under her blouse, though, and waited for her sister to come out.

And then she did, and Parvati walked up to her, a request falling from her lips immediately. “Can we talk?”

@padmapat

[parvcti-blog]

The crimson light of professor Trelawney’s -- or Sybill, as her professor had asked her to call her now -- was one of the places that still brought her peace at Hogwarts. Most of the others had been spoiled by memories of things that had been, both good and bad, but that place was still squeaky clean of bad memories. Even those of Lavender and her had not grown sour there; how, Parvati did not know, but it was there that her mourning felt a little less heavy.

Parvati found herself wishing to escape to that little chamber in the North Tower more and more, craving familiarity as most things felt strange and warped and wrong. Her escapes could never last forever, though. She was leaving the small classroom, though, trading it for the greyish stone and talking paintings of the Hogwarts corridors. It was like being sobered up --- a bucket of cold water hitting her drunk face --- every time she left that place, as if she was being thrown back into the world that had so drastically changed over the past years. 

It was only logical that Parvati felt a little off balance. 

With her bag swung over her shoulder and her head still with her private session with her favourite teacher, she paid little attention to where she was going. She wasn’t usually clumsy, really, but she had grown absent-minded as of late, which explained why her bag crashed against one of the suits of armor. Her bag hadn’t been in the best state before --she had wanted to buy a new one in the summer, but had kept postponing it for reasons unknown to her -- and it ripped, its insides spilling and rolling over the stone floor of the corridor.

“Morgana’s saggy t---,” she started, swallowing her swear before she could fully speak it. Parvati bit the inside of her cheek, frustrated with herself as she crouched down to gather her things.