TITLE: This Little Light
CHARACTERS: Terry Boot, Padma Patil, Anthony Goldstein, and Lisa Turpin.
RATING: K+
SUMMARY: "Candles," Terry said, with a little bit of melodramatic flair, "are the key to ending the war." Written in December 2005.

"Candles!" Terry Boot said, jolting Padma awake. "Candles."

The common room was nearly empty at this time of the night, but even the cheery glow of the fireplace wasn't enough to keep Padma awake and focused on her homework. She sat up, looking down in disappointment at the freshly-bent pages of her Arithmancy textbook. So much for revising. She smoothed down her ruffled hair, watching as Terry jumped up and started pacing across the room, muttering to himself.

"Terry?" Anthony Goldstein asked, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses and sitting up straighter in his chair. He must have fallen asleep too, Padma thought. For the past few hours, it had just been the four of them--the four seventh-years who had returned to Hogwarts for their final year--still up studying in the common room. Tomorrow would be the last day of classes before the students went home for the holidays, and most of their teachers evidently thought tomorrow to be an excellent opportunity to cram in last-minute exams.

Lisa Turpin, curled up on the other side of the couch with her textbook, stretched sleepily. "A bit off your head, are you?" she asked with a yawn, craning her neck to follow Terry's pacing.

Terry pursed his lips and shook his head. "Completely sane," he said. "I can't believe I didn't think of it sooner." He turned to the other three with a look of exasperation. "And I can't believe none of you thought of it before me."

"Terry," Anthony said patiently. Heaving a sigh, he shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose before shaking his head at Terry. "None of us have a clue to what you're going on about."

"Candles. They're the symbolic key to it all." Terry grinned proudly, but Padma quirked an eyebrow at him. The other two must have also expressed their confusion, as Terry's face fell. "You really don't follow me, do you?"

"We don't live inside your head, Ter," Lisa said with an amused smirk.

"That's a shame," he said with sincere disappointment, sitting back down in his chair. Padma waited as Terry pushed aside his textbooks and scrolls, clearing a space on the table between them the four of them. He summoned an unlit candle from the other side of the common room and placed it on the table.

Curious, Anthony leaned forward. "So what's this about candles?"

"Candles," Terry said, with a little bit of melodramatic flair, "are the key to ending the war."

"Why yes," Lisa deadpanned, closing her book. "It's a brilliant plan. Let's set You-Know-Who and all his followers on fire."

Anthony gave a laugh. "He'll never see it coming, and we'll have the means for a celebratory marshmallow roast when all is said and done. Genius idea, Boot."

"Isn't anyone else a little disturbed by the irony of us talking about burning other witches and wizards?" Padma asked, looking anxiously at the others.

Terry just shook his head at them all. "They're the symbolic key." He waved his hand over the candle and murmured a charm to light it. A small flame flickered into existence. "And I think it'd do us all some good, especially at this time of year, to reflect upon this."

Padma, amused and finding this more interesting than her Arithmancy homework, sat up straighter. "So let's hear how it's the symbolic key to ending the war," she said to Terry.

Terry gave them all another grin. "What's the function of a candle?"

"Light," Lisa said promptly.

"A temporary source of light and perhaps heat," Anthony said.

"A physical manifestation of the Lumos spell onto a non-magical object," Padma said.

Lisa scowled at the two of them good-naturedly. "Show-offs, with your in-depth definitions."

Terry held up a hand. "You're all wrong, or at the very least, not specific enough." He turned, murmuring another spell to put out the flames in the fireplace, and suddenly, the common room was engulfed in darkness, save the little light from the candle. Padma blinked, trying to adjust to the abrupt change, and she caught sight of Terry picking up the candle and raising it so that they could see his face in its glow. "A candle," Terry said, "helps guide lost wanderers home. A candle provides just enough light to ward off the darkness."

"Tamaso ma jyotir gamaya," Padma murmured. "Lead me from darkness to light."

"Exactly." Terry met her eyes in the dim glow of the candle. She gave him a tentative smile and accepted the candle as he passed it to her.

"Diwali," Padma said, louder this time, feeling the rush of excitement as she caught on to what Terry was trying to demonstrate. She looked at the others through the light of the candle. "The Hindu Festival of Lights. It's about Light triumphing over Darkness, Good over Evil, Wisdom over Ignorance. But we can't all do it alone, because it takes many individual candles to provide enough light to banish the darkness."

Anthony leaned over toward Padma, reaching for the candle. She passed it to him, and he straightened up, the light flickering across his face to reveal that he too was excited to have caught on to what Terry had been trying to say. "There's this other little Festival of Lights, Chanukah, that you might have heard about," he said wryly. "It might also have some symbolic meaning." As he talked, his breath caused the candle's flame to flicker a bit, but it didn't go out. "A little bit of oil can go a long way, and it can light up quite a few nights. And, you know..." He drifted off with a shrug. "And miracles sometimes happen."

He passed the candle back to Terry. "See, I'm not completely off my head," Terry said, scoffing. "Only slightly."

Lisa, who had been quiet during the little lectures, finally spoke up. "That's a lot of pretty words and symbolism, Terry, but I have to ask--so what? I get the symbolic meaning, but it doesn't help with actually ending the war."

"I know," Terry said, a little stubbornly. "Doesn't mean it's not something worth thinking about."

He reached across the table to hand Lisa the candle. She accepted it tentatively.

"We're all going home day after tomorrow, it's the darkest time of the year, and the war's not going so well," Terry continued. "I don't know about you, but I'd like to think that a little bit of light, from all of us, can go a long way in making a miracle happen."

The four of them fell silent. After a few moments had passed, Lisa carefully set the candle back down on the table between them. "I can't stand the smell of it," she said softly, breaking the silence. "Vanilla? Who wants a candle that smells like vanilla?"

Anthony cleared his throat. "And I think there's also symbolic importance in the role of toasting marshmallows, too," he added earnestly, helping break through the awkward solemnity.

Padma smiled to herself, and Terry re-lit the fireplace. For the rest of the night, the four of them chatted about marshmallows and Chanukah and the consequences of failing tomorrow's exams and the many creative ways to defeat You-Know-Who using only candles. Terry's candle remained on the table, burning throughout the night. They didn't return to the topic of its symbolic significance, but Terry seemed satisfied that he had gotten them to think.

And on the train home for Christmas, Padma was not surprised when she found a wrapped, candle-shaped package tucked into her bookbag. She caught up with Terry on the crowded platform at King's Cross, before her parents dragged her home.

"Thanks," she said to him, pulling at his sleeve to catch his attention. "Thanks for the candle."

He turned, smiling at her. "Just wanted to make sure you had one."

"You have one too, I take it?" she asked.

"Yep. And I gave one to Lisa and to Anthony, too. Anthony said it could just be the oddest Chanukah gift he's ever received. But I think it's good that we all have one."

Padma gave him a smile. "I agree."