m&mwp.

Being a teacher wasn't what Padma had thought she'd end up doing with her life.

Yes, there was something high and mighty about being called 'professor' and she supposed that watching the students grow was somewhat fulfilling. The accommodation was great, the food was brilliant and the salary wasn't all that bad either.

It just wasn't what she'd planned for herself.

After all, who would plan to spend all their nights grading papers written by idiots?

Padma sighed, pulling her robes tightly around shivering body and began to make her way through an exceptionally large pile of papers. The essay question, although standard for the older students, managed to hit home.

Choose one battle of the Second Wizarding War and discuss two tactics used. Explain why these tactics helped to decide the victor of the battle.

It seemed that the war was a touchy subject for her former classmates, because they'd clearly never spoken about the war to their children before. The students regarded the war as ancient history and much to Padma's frustration, never seemed to grasp the true concept of war. No matter how many times she tried to explain, none them could understand how terrified she'd been.

They just didn't understand.

And perhaps it was silly of her, but the next day before handing back the papers, Padma regarded her class critically.

"Do your parents talk about the war?" she asked. When no one replied, she continued, "I know the majority of your parents. I fought with the majority of your parents. So tell me. Do they talk to you about it?"

Taking a deep breath, Padma picked up the essays and began to hand them out. "Your essays are good...but they're dull. None of you were able to really connect with the tactics you chose. Who would they influence? Why would some people be skeptical? Think about it. Would your mother have agreed to it? If so, why or why not?"

"Questions on the Second Wizarding War are what you should all be able to do well on," Padma said, finally ending her round of the classroom and standing by her desk. "It's your generation that should be able to hand in unbiased opinions and yet still have a unique insight."

The class was silent.

Padma sighed. "Come on then. Let's hear it. What stories have you lot heard?"

"My mum was herded out of Hogwarts because she was too young to fight."

The professor smiled at the boy and coaxed him on. "So the tactic here would be that the professors of Hogwarts got those that would be hinderance to them out of the way. They protected their people by getting them to leave the battlefield."

"She said that her older sister had to stay and fight though," the boy continued. "And that the secret passageway she escaped out of was cold, damp and cramped and that everyone around her was shouting and that she could only think of Auntie."

Padma knew the feeling all too well and nodded her head. "See? You could've wrote about the separation of siblings when discussing this particular tactic. That would've been insightful. It would've had the depth that all of your essays lacked."

Even as she said the words, Padma knew that the students had stopped listening a long time ago. Perhaps it wasn't that they didn't understand; perhaps it was that they simply didn't care.

"For homework, I'd like everyone to ask someone about their story of the war and to write some notes on both their story and your reaction to their story. Class dismissed."

The students clambered out of the classroom eagerly, barely sparing a glance in her direction, despite her efforts to smile at them as they left. Padma collapsed into her seat, rubbing at her temples as the last of her students filed out of the room. She was about to make a grab at yet more essays that needed to be graded when a voice pulled her from her thoughts.

"Professor Patil. May I have a word?"

"Lorcan," Padma replied primly. "Of course."

The seventh year grinned, immediately sitting on the desk behind him. "I'd like you to tell me your story. What were you doing during the war?"

Padma's jaw dropped. "Surely your mother would be a better example. You are aware of the part she played, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Lorcan replied. He cocked his head to the side. "But I already know what she did. I figured it was time for a new perspective...if that's alright with you, Professor."

"It's not a particularly interesting story."

Although she was keen for her students to delve into the war and really know the war, this was the last thing she'd expected to happen. And truth be told, it was making her feel more awkward than she'd ever imagined it would.

"Please, miss."

"Lorcan..." Padma said after some thought. "I have a feeling that your mother has already told you what I was doing during the war...during the battle. We were very good friends; you know that."

"It's not the same as you telling me," he insisted. "Come on, it's homework. Please share."

And against her better will, she did.

* - - .

Lorcan Scamander

28 May

Homework: Ask someone about their war story and record both their story and my opinions on it.

Prof. Padma Patil

Padma Patil was in her seventh year when the war began to break loose. However, she had attended Hogwarts during the years prior and was no stranger to the events that occured beforehand (Voldemort's rebirthing, the basilisk incidents, Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban, etc). She was Ravenclaw student and has a twin sister, Parvati, both who were and are to this day good friends with the 'Golden Trio'.

Patil insists that she had little to do with the war until the very end, the Battle of Hogwarts, in which she fought alongside her classmates and teachers. Unfortunately, the term 'very end' is quite literal, as Patil entered battle extremely late.

It seems that she was frozen with fear and for the majority of the battle, hid in numerous spots around the school, watching as walls crumbled and curses were thrown at her friends. In fact, Patil watched as her twin's best friend, Lavender Brown, was murdered. It was not until she heard Parvati screaming that Patil was thrown from her slump and began to aid with the battle. From then on, Padma Patil fought with her sister and classmates against Death Eaters and other dark wizards.

Patil describes the experience as being 'gut-wrenching' and says that she still gets nightmares, despite not having had a major part in the battle and says that she feels great sympathy for those that did, for example Harry Potter, the Weasley family and Hermione Weasley née Granger.

Padma Patil feels that she hid away and feels that she was, for the most part, useless. Despite this, I believe that she was a true asset to Voldemort's downfall. I do not think that she ought to feel that she was weak or that she failed anybody. Hiding away from war is not a silly thing to do and I can imagine that it would be most people's instinct to shy away from danger. To witness murder (of someone she knew, no less!) would be a painful thing to endure and the fact that Patil actually found the strength to stand up and fight with her sister for what she believed in makes her a strong person and a good role-model.

Although she claims to have not had much to do with the war, I feel that Padma Patil is an admirable person who's efforts in the Battle of Hogwarts will always be appreciated and honoured.

* - - .

She cried.

Oh, and she felt stupid when she did, but Padma couldn't help it. It wasn't a perfect homework response by any means. There should have been more quotes and more specific detail...but it was lovely and made her feel worth something. And suddenly, all the emotions she'd never allowed herself to feel since the war were flowing out and strangely enough, Padma didn't care to stop them.

"Mr. Scamander," Padma called out after Monday's lesson, trying her hardest to keep her voice calm and controlled. "If I could speak to you before you leave, please."

He nodded at her, standing in front of her and looking rather agitated as he asked, "Is it about the homework? I didn't mean to be offensive."

"Thank you."

Lorcan looked up her, wide-eyed with surprise. "What? ...uh. I mean, excuse me?"

"Thank you," she repeated, fiddling with her two long plaits of hair self-consciously. "It was very...well, I enjoyed it. Appreciated it, really. So thank you."

"Yeah, well," Lorcan muttered. "There's more to chess than the King and the Queen. The same applies to war, I assume. And there's no shame in being a pawn."

Padma grinned, but only for a moment. And in that moment, she dropped both her hands from those damned plaits and frantically attempted to sort out the frustrated thoughts rushing about her mind.

No, no, Padma! Don't fiddle. Don't smile. Just be professional. It doesn't matter that he did a good job. It doesn't matter that you're alone. It doesn't matter if he's the only one that's ever understood you...

Damn it. She knew this feeling all too well, but she would be damned if she was going to let it overtake her this time. Not like this. Not with him. There was too much to risk. And remember, Padma was a smart one. Too smart to allow herself to indulge in something so trivial.

"Was that all, Professor?"

"Uh, yes. But was something on your mind? You don't look as thought you're in this world at all at the moment."

Lorcan flushed. "There's Quidditch practice in a moment. I'll be late if I don't head off now, Professor."

"Well, that was all, so go ahead."

The teenager looked curiously at her as he picked up his satchel. "Thanks. By the way, Mum sent me an owl asking me to invite you to a family and friends gathering during the Christmas holidays. It'll be the first Sunday at our place."

"It'll be a pleasure, thank you, Lorcan."

* - - .

She tried not to; she really tried. But for the next few weeks, Padma couldn't help but pay close attention to the boy. She'd never noticed it before, but Lorcan really was very different to his twin, despite them being in the same house. She found that Lorcan was kinder, smarter and that his eyes were a deeper blue.

But maybe she was looking into it too much.

Oh, she was definitely looking into it too much.

But he understood her. And she'd never had anyone understand her before; she'd never had anyone tell her that she wasn't being cowardly and that in her own right, she was justified for what had happened on that night. And the fact that he'd heard her story and didn't judge her for it...it made her happy.

And so she stood in the Lovegood's garden, shifting from foot to foot as she watched the people mingle around her, barely acknowledging her existence.

"You looked bored stiff."

"I am bored stiff," Padma retorted, turning to face her sister. She smiled though and continued, "How are you, Parvati?"

Her twin beamed at her. "Brilliant. Things with Seamus and I are going swimmingly. How're you? Merlin, Padma, you ought to write me letters or something. It's like we never talk anymore."

"You wouldn't reply to my letters!"

"True. But come on, how are you? Anyone caught your eye recently?"

Padma flushed. "Yeah, kind of. Look, I need some advice..."

* - - .

"Professor..."

Padma jumped in surprise. "Lorcan!"

"Professor," Lorcan greeted in response. "I just wanted to...uh. Well, I was just thinking that you shouldn't look into the homework assignment in too much."

"I would never," she lied. Hurriedly, she changed the subject. "Well, you've almost finished your last year at Hogwarts. What are you planning on continuing with?"

"Don't know. Lysander's going to go around with Dad around Europe for a bit and he's asked me to go with him. Can't say I'm too keen though. Professor McGonagall's still looking into apprenticeships for me...and I suppose I could always offer to help with the Weasley's shop."

"Don't think about it too much," Padma advised. "It all comes together in the end."

She watched him as he took in her words. What she wouldn't have given to be like that when she was his age...how she wished that the biggest worry she'd had was what career path she wanted to take... The innocence of it intrigued her. He intrigued her.

"Though, I thought you had to talk to Professor McGonagall about career choices before deciding on your N.E.W.T subjects."

Lorcan shrugged. "I didn't know then either."

He turned to her, his blue eyes piercing into her dark ones. Then he said simply, "You didn't mention your scar when you told me about the battle."

"Falling wall," Padma replied, her hand self-consciously reaching out to touch the faded scar on her cheek. "It's nothing. I was lucky. That same wall killed others."

The boy shrugged again. "Does it bother you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Does it bother you?" Lorcan repeated. "To be scarred. Does it bother you?"

The young woman thought for a moment, gazing at Lorcan's own unscathed face. Looking around her at the guests, she couldn't help but be drawn to their smooth, unmarked cheeks. Did she wish for a face like that? An innocent, untouched face?

"It reminds me. So yes, it bothers me."

"It shouldn't. If you don't mind me saying, Professor, but I think you still look as good as your sister, scar and all."

"Oh..."

* - - .

It was years before she spoke properly to him again.

It was white and red and there was screeching and beeping and all Padma wanted to do was close her eyes and let everything go black and silent. And eventually, the white and red blurred and the beeping faded away. Soon, everything was black and silent.

And then it was white.

"She's awake."

Padma blinked rapidly, staring up at the blank ceiling and muttering, "St. Mungo's."

Beside her bed, Parvati and Luna stood, the former crying at the other smiling at the woman. The one who'd spoken first though, was neither. The culprit was standing at the end of the bed with his twin brother, looking down at his former professor with an odd look on his face.

"Yeah. How're you feeling, Professor?"

"Padma! Merlin, it's awful...it's just...I can't believe this happened, sis!"

Still blinking, Padma asked, "What happened?"

"You were in the apothecary and one of the apprentices blew something up," Lysander answered bluntly. "Unfortunately, you'd just been sent to the back by the girl upfront to collect the ingredients that you wanted and got caught in the cross-fire."

"The apothecary..."

"There was a lot of glass," Parvati said hesitantly, wiping her eyes. She reached out and stroked her sister's scarred cheek. "Your arm, sis."

With tears in her eyes, Padma braved a look at her arms. And down her right, she found there was a large purple mark running from her elbow to her wrist.

She could've vomited just looking at it.

"I..."

"The potion burnt you. The healers reckon that you used that arm to protect your face...the rest of your body was covered with your robes, you see?"

"The...another scar...Merlin..."

"Shall we leave Padma with her thoughts for a moment?" Luna suggested, already motioning her sons out and taking hold of Parvati's hand.

Much to Padma's surprise, Lorcan refused. More surprisingly still was that as soon as the other three had left the room, Lorcan dropped on both knees and began to apologise profusely.

"Lorcan, get up," Padma said finally. "Now tell me again, nice and slow so that I actually know what you're talking about."

"I was the apprentice."

"And you didn't get away unscarred," she replied, her eyes catching sight of a familiar shade of purple on the side of his neck. "How did you get less than me?"

"It's a glamour charm. My face...it's...uh, yeah, well, it's a glamour charm..." Lorcan explained, rubbing his neck lightly and making a mental note to ask the healers to cover that too. "Anyway, I only woke up a few hours ago. I insisted on coming to apologise straight away, honest."

"Oh, for goodness sake," Padma dismissed. "It's not as if you burnt me on purpose. Besides, I'm sure you got off a lot worse than I did."

"But the scar! I gave you a scar...you hate scars..."

The woman couldn't deny that. She hated her scars; they were unwelcome and painful reminders. But the one on her arm. It was different, she thought. Lorcan had given it to her by accident. It wasn't some Death Eater that had killed her friends and thrown a curse at her. It was Lorcan—just Lorcan.

"It's not so bad," she lied. Then she smiled. "It's okay, Lorcan. I'm fine. How are you, though?"

The apprentice looked uneasy and he touched his face. "I'm fine—just scarred."

Padma liked to think that she was 'just' scarred too.

* - - .

Padma,

I don't know how long you want to keep this up, but I'm not going to let you do it for long! For Merlin's sake, it's been three weeks since the accident. You're acting as if you're going to get blown up as soon as you walk out of the apartment. Now, typically, I'd come over and knock some since into you with a good slap around the face, but someone disconnected their floo and put anti-apparating charms around the place!

Come on, sis. I know the war did a number on you. I know you hate your scars and I know that no matter how often you deny it, the scar Lorcan left on you kills you just as much as the others do. But for all the Ravenclaw brains in you, you can't seem to understand that no one cares. We all love you, scars and all. And we bloody well want to see your face every once in a while!

So I'm sending you this letter (and you know I hate writing letters) to tell you to get your miserable arse out of your apartment before I ask Harry for a favour.

— Parvati

PS: Well, there was that. But Luna passed me on a letter from Lorcan to give to you as well.

* - - .

Professor Patil,

Mum says that you haven't left your apartment since I blew up the potion in your face. I didn't mean to pry. Mum was talking about it with your sister in the kitchen and I happened to overhear.

I know it's my fault. I'm sorry.

— Lorcan

* - - .

Eventually, and covered with glamour charms, Padma did leave her apartment. And even so, it was purely because her career required that she did. Apparently Flourish and Blotts didn't like to send over parcels of parchment via owl. She was in the midst of choosing a decent quill when she saw him. His body was hidden by the shelves of books, but she could recognise that tuft of hair anywhere.

Hesitantly, she made her way over to him.

She dropped her quill in shock when he turned to face her.

"L-Lorcan?" Padma questioned, peering at him in disbelief. "Merlin, is that you? What happened to your face?"

He laughed. "Hello to you too, Professor. And you know better than anyone what happened to my face."

"I thought you were using glamour charms."

"Eh. It's too much work sometimes." His tone dropped conspicuously and he leaned closer to her as he whispered, "Besides, it gives the kids a good fright during Halloween."

Straightening his back, Lorcan claimed it his turn to look his former professor up and down. Then he declared, "You look good."

"Doesn't it bother you?" Padma blurted, her eyes still trained on the burn marks that covered his face. "That people stare? That people ask? That everywhere you go, people judge you?"

It killed her to hear those words coming out of her mouth, but for some reason, she couldn't stop the questions from streaming out. She was being judgmental and she was prying—two things she'd always despised in people. Although she was disgusted with her lack of control, Lorcan merely seemed amused.

"It doesn't bother me at all."

"You're lying."

He chucked again. "Yeah. But they don't bother me as much as yours bother you. Weird, isn't it?"

"Hardly." Padma shrugged. "I'm female. Appearances are meant to be more important to me."

"No... It's weird because yours actually mean something. I got mine for being stupid and they don't bother me. But when you get yours for battling in a war, they bother you."

"Scars are scars. It's not as if people ask what they're from before judging." Padma frowned. Tentatively, she added, "My sister sent me your note."

"Yeah, well, it was my fault."

"Don't be—"

"I didn't leave the house for two days," Lorcan interrupted. "The Potters came over to visit the morning after the hospital and I hadn't bothered with the glamour charm. I figured that if my own cousin was disgusted, everyone else would be a hell of a lot worse. So yeah, I stayed inside for two days while I worked on the glamour charm because I was too ashamed to be seen in public."

"And yet here you are. Burns and all."

"Like I said, it's too much work."

Padma nodded, her eyes straying away from his and scanning the bookshelves. Pulling a book from the collection, she smiled. Turning to Lorcan, Padma pulled at her shirt collar in discomfort. For a final time, she looked the younger boy—man now, she supposed—and after staring at his burn marks for a long amount of time, Padma turned her attention to his eyes.

They were indifferent, not seeming to care about the woman's scrutiny.

"It hurts all the same," Lorcan said suddenly, pulling her from her thoughts. At her puzzled look he continued with, "When strangers stare and when kids won't even come near me. It's very...uh, defining. I know I shouldn't let it bother me, but it does. I know that it's none of their business, but it still bothers me."

"Oh."

"But it doesn't bother me as much as you let on that yours bother you."

It was on impulse that Padma leant forward, cupping his cheek in her hand. "Maybe you'll understand one day, Lorcan."

"I do understand! I do! Why do you insist on believing that you're the only one going through this? I'm judged the same as you. I understand what it's like. I know what it's like to be the scarred twin. I know." Lorcan took a deep breath. "I do understand. I really do."

And there it was again. That stupid, sinking feeling in the pit of Padma's stomach. He really did understand. Perhaps she ought to have been happy about that. But first it was the battle and her cowardice. Now it was her scars.

No one was meant to understand. She wasn't meant to taint others with her flaws. Who was this silly little boy to waltz in and know every thought that crossed her mind? Someone so young wasn't meant to understand her at all. None of it was meant to happen.

Then again, she wasn't meant to be a teacher either.

"You're young," Padma said finally. "But you do understand."

* - - .

And then later, at night and by herself, "...he really does understand."

Perhaps, just perhaps, what was meant to be wasn't best for her. Perhaps being scarred, becoming a teacher, being scarred again was best for her.

He understood her. Maybe that was best for her. Maybe he was best for her.

Padma liked that idea. She liked it a lot.