Disclaimer: Anything you recognize isn't mine.
A/N: Written for Ravenclaw homework at the Hogwarts Online Forum. The challenge was to write a fic (in less then 600 words) about a Ravenclaw's feelings for someone in another house. This is exactly 599 words, not counting the stuff in bold.
Sister Moon
It's like Parvati is the big, bright, shining sun, and Padma is the moon, only able to shine with the little light she reflects.
They're on their way to Hogwarts for the first time, and all Parvati can talk about is Gryffindor, the best house, the house both of their parents were in.
"I guess we'll all be there together, then," the blonde girl who they're sitting with - Lavender - says.
Parvati frowns. "Are you going to be in Gryffindor, Padma?"
Yet again, she is forced to admit defeat. "No. I reckon I'll be in Ravenclaw."
Lavender looks astonished. "But you're identical! You have to be in the same house!"
Padma almost laughs - it's clear that this girl is no Ravenclaw. Then she hears her twin's response.
"Identical, yes, but - not the same."
Not the same at all. She'll never match up.
Her twin isn't perfect, or the most popular girl to ever entered Hogwarts, or even the prettiest. She's still better than Padma, despite the fact that she's younger by three minutes, that they're identical twins.
"Parvati!" She turns to see Cho Chang, who is the most popular girl, at least in Ravenclaw. Padma grimaces; she knows what's coming.
Cho is giggling. "Parv, Michael - " She stops, suddenly noticing the raven on Padma's robes. Her voice suddenly loses all of its friendliness, not quite becoming cold, just empty, void. It is all that Padma excites. "Oh, I thought you were - never mind."
She simply nods as Cho walks away, not knowing what to say. She never does. In class, her mind moves at a mile a minute, easily grasping the answer, often within seconds. Outside, in the corridors and the common room, among her classmates, there is no answer to grasp, no way to know if she is right.
Padma is walking alone in a deserted corridor, when she turns a corner and almost runs right into them - her own sister and Terry Boot, the boy she's been in love with practically forever, kissing so passionately it sickens her.
It's possibly the worst thing that's ever happened to her.
She's already started to back away (she won't run; she'll be brave), when they start to break apart.
Parvati is giggling; she doesn't mind the interruption. It's just another chance to show off, another chance to assert her superiority. She has no idea what Padma feels; she never does. She thinks they're close.
"Parvati?" Terry says, and Padma realises that he has not even noticed her, too blinded by her sister's brilliance to see the shadow that's Padma. He has only noticed that the sun has pulled away.
"Sorry," she squeaks, still trying to back away slowly, to not let the hurt show on her face.
"Oh," he says, noticing her at last. "Padma."
And there is such a difference in the way he says their names, such a difference between Padma and Parvati, that she runs away crying like the coward she is, the coward Parvati isn't.
She loves her sister, she really does, but sometimes, she just hates her.
It's still not as much as she hates herself.