Disclaimer – J.K.R. owns Harry Potter
A/N - This is my 50th story I've uploaded here. I wrote this a few months ago, for hp spring fling over on lj, and I wanted to save this story to be number 50. Problem was, and reason for the delay, I had no number 49 until just recently. Thanks to csi tokyo3 and phil urich for the help in beta reading this for me.
In the aftermath of the Second War, many stores either didn't return to Diagon Alley or simply couldn't reopen. Taking advantage of these vacancies, new businesses sprang up along the old and storied road. One of those new stores was a small bookstore: Rowena's Library.
While not able to compete with the larger and more established Flourish and Blotts, where most Hogwarts student got their school books, Rowena's Library focused more on niche items. This varied from such things as rare tomes, out of print and specialty books, and even some Muggle literature. Things you wouldn't typically find elsewhere.
Inside that small bookstore, Padma Patil emerged from a back storage room with a stack of books floating beside her. The moment Padma had set foot in the place, she had fallen in love with it. An avid reader and a constant student of everything she could learn, working here seemed a natural fit. Especially as she wasn't sure what she wanted to do with her life right now.
Leaning against the counter, another employee, Sara White, watched Padma and the floating pile of books make their way around the large shelves. The store was designed with tall bookshelves running along all the walls, breaking only for the main door and the door that lead to the back room. The ceiling held a large skylight that let the sunlight stream through, both warming and lighting the room during the day. It was a bookworm's dream; which sort of explained why Hermione Granger was one of their most frequent customers.
As Padma began climbing one of the ladders to reach a high shelf, Sara slowly grinned as she glanced over at the small clock that quietly clicked away on the corner of the counter. Four years older than Padma, Sara was a tall, dark haired woman, and fellow Ravenclaw. As an upper classmen, she knew Padma from the few years they shared a tower, but had rarely interacted.
Now actually getting to know the younger woman, Sara had taken a liking to her, often treating her like a younger sister. She often passed down bits and pieces of various ideas that she had learned or experienced the hard way and, of course, always taking the opportunity to tease the younger witch. Especially about a certain 'close friend' that was due at any moment.
"Isn't your boyfriend due about now?" she called out, and then snickered, since she didn't even have to look to know that Padma was rolling her eyes at her.
"He just got back from Berlin last night," Padma answered, having grown tired of denying there was anything other than friendship between them. Pushing a series of bangles up her arm, away from her wrist, she reached for the pile and grabbed the top book. "I doubt he's going to do anything other than go straight to bed, much less bother to come see me. He's probably still dead to the world right now."
Snickering again, Sara casually looked over at Padma as she placed a book in the shelves. "You don't do Potter justice," Sara told her. "The poor boy hasn't seen you in two weeks. I think he'll come," she said mockingly.
In the two years she had been working with Padma, almost every Saturday Harry would come by around mid-day. He would spend a few minutes browsing around the shelves and talking to Padma for a bit, before finally taking her out to lunch, usually at the Leaky Cauldron. Sara enjoyed every minute of the shameful display, constantly teasing them, especially Harry. How many chances would you get to pop the ego of the Chosen One?
Glancing at the clock again, she saw the clock hands read quarter after twelve. Then, as if on cue, the door opened and the man himself stepped inside.
"And here he is, Mr. Harry Potter," Sara called out sarcastically as the door shut behind him.
"How do you still have a job if all you do is harass customers?" Harry asked, equally sarcastic.
Sara smiled at him. "Simple, no one else can match my ability to find even the rarest tome in the world." When someone asked for a rare item, Sara seemed to show a knack of being able to find it, no matter how rare. "Also, to be a customer, you would actually have to ibuy/i something."
Hearing Padma giggle at Sara's joke, Harry looked over his shoulder at her. Since she was standing a few rungs up on the ladder, Harry watched her stretch off to the side to make room in the row of books for one from her floating stack. As she stretched, Harry noticed how her skirt rose, exposing more of her legs.
"But you choose to leer at Padma instead," Sara said with a predatory smile, catching him.
Harry's head whipped around, and he glared back at Sara. Unfortunately, his stare would've been much more intimidating had he not been blushing. "I don't leer."
Coming down the ladder, Padma laughed and shook her head. "Give it up Harry; you're not going to win. Sara is relentless," she said as she walked towards them. With a flick of her wand, the final two books of her stack zipped through the air in different directions and slipped into their spots on the stacks.
"You should listen to your girlfriend," Sara told him, smirking as Harry scowled at her.
"Come on, Harry," Padma said, lightly grabbing his arm. "There's something I want to show you out back."
"I'm sure there is," Sara suggested. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
"Enough," Padma told her as she pulled Harry into the back room before he could try and respond. As they entered the back, Sara's laughter died down and Padma just shook her head.
"How do you put up with her?"
"Who, Sara? She's harmless," Padma said as she moved around the piles of boxes that littered the back room. "You just have to ignore her and don't take it too personally. Ah, here it is."
Harry watched her come back the way she had gone, this time carrying a hardcover book with her. "I saw this, and just had to have a copy for myself," she said as a large smile broke out on her face. "Can I have it autographed?"
"You've got to be kidding me," Harry groaned after he took the book from her and read the title. "The Life of Harry Potter. An intimate look at the life of the wizarding world's savior." Harry opened the book to a random page, and groaned again. "I should've killed her when I had the chance."
"Come on now, Harry. It isn't that bad," Padma choked out, trying very hard not to burst out laughing in his face. She had flipped through it when she found it while taking inventory of the new deliveries. "I mean, Rita got a few things right. Your name is Harry Potter ... and you did save the world."
"You're enjoying this?" he asked rhetorically as he snapped the book shut. Padma pressed her lips in a thin line as she struggled not to laugh. As she nodded, Harry advanced on her, causing her to back up into a nearby crate. With her pressed up against the crate, and him looming over her, he smirked down at her.
Grinning back up at him, she gave him a challenging look. "My favorite part is when they talk about how Hermione broke your poor little heart when she chose Ron. You fell on your sword once again, so the love of your life could be happy with someone else."
Harry leaned down so his nose was inches from hers. Padma felt her pulse quicken, but the grin never faded.
"You keep mocking me and there'll be a price to pay," he warned.
"Oh?" Padma asked innocently.
Before things could go any further, they were interrupted by someone clearing their throat in the doorway. Peering under Harry's shoulder, Padma could see Sara standing there.
"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," Sara said sarcastically, a wicked grin on her face.
Stepping out from around Harry, and making sure to take the book from him, Padma walked towards Sara. "Nothing. I was just teasing Harry a little about his new biography."
"Oh?" Sara greedily took the book. Flipping through it, she would pause and read a few passages, laughing as she read.
"Why did you have to give her the book?" Harry grumbled as they walked back in to the main room.
"Come on, Harry. It's a laugh, and we all know it. No one is going to take anything Rita writes seriously anyway," Padma explained.
Sara laughed again as she read another passage. "Even if it is bull, it's entertaining."
"Great," Harry muttered, scratching the back of his head in frustration.
Closing the book and tossing it on the counter. "Well, beside the point, we've got the rest of those boxes to open and catalog. So unless you're going to buy something, like that'll ever happen, we've got work to do."
Simply reacting, Harry grabbed the nearest book without even looking, and dropped it on to the counter. "How much?" Harry asked challengingly, glaring at Sara.
Padma looked at the book, and then at Harry questioningly. "You're going to buy a cookbook?" she asked doubtfully. "Harry, you don't have to buy anything. Sara's just being a pain," she told him while giving Sara an irritated look of her own. Sometimes the usual innocent bickering between the two would go too far, and she'd be stuck trying to play peace maker.
"I ican/i cook," Harry said defensively.
"Prove it," Sara challenged. "Three Galleon, two Sickle."
"Fine," was his answer, and Harry dug out some coins for the book. "Padma, next Saturday, I want you to come over for dinner and I'll make something out of the book."
Glancing back and forth between the two, Padma sighed. "All right," she answered weakly. In the back of her mind, she was screaming at herself to say no, and then to cancel. But she held her tongue, and just smiled and nodded goodbye to Harry as he left.
"Why does he take everything so personally?" Sara asked suddenly, as if she hadn't done anything wrong.
"Do you have to ride him constantly?" Padma asked her back.
Sara looked at her for a moment, studying her. "Why aren't you going out with him?" she asked.
"I...We...It's complicated."
"Love usually is."
Padma sighed softly. "I'm not ready for another relationship. Besides, Harry is basically my best friend. Yes, I'm attracted to him, but I'm worried that the idea is more appealing than if it actually happened."
"Padma, it's been two years," Sara said softly, with an honest tone. "Look, it's your life, but I just don't want to see you as some old maid bouncing around this bookstore for the rest of your life. I may give him a hard time, but he's a good bloke. Give him a chance."
Acting as if she was brushing the advice aside, Padma walked into the back to start work on another crate. In truth, she had actually been thinking about the same things herself. Dinner with Harry? It can't be too bad, can it? she thought to herself nervously. Nervous just not about the dinner itself, but also about the idea of being alone with Harry in such a potentially romantic situation.
Padma slowly walked towards Harry's flat, pulling her jacket closer around her as the early spring rain drizzled around her. Carrying in her hand a small shopping bag, inside which was a bottle of wine. She knew Harry wasn't much of a drinker, but she felt funny about showing up empty handed.
It had taken her hours to get ready, unsure of what to wear, when to show up, and even going so far as to try and predict how the night would play out. What was more frustrating was that she couldn't figure out why she was all worked up about dinner with Harry. They had shared far more intimate settings before, and nothing had screamed out "romance!" in any way. But this, just seemed different. Damn, Sara. Finally got into my head with this dating rubbish.
Nearing the building, Padma causally looked about. For a man who could live very comfortably, Harry lived in a simple middle class neighborhood. His flat was sparsely decorated with the essentials and a few odds and ends that Harry had picked up over the years. Both Hermione and her had tried for awhile to get him to decorate more, but he wouldn't hear of it.
Reaching his building, Padma paused at the entrance and took a deep breath. Gathering her courage, she walked to the door and pushed the button that would buzz Harry's flat upstairs to let him know someone was downstairs for him; she took a deep breath as she tried to relax. She snickered to herself as she waited, remembering the first time she had tried to use the Muggle intercom device.
"Hello?" Harry's voice said coming from the tiny speaker, his tone slightly annoyed.
Pressing the second button, she answered. "It's Padma."
"Hiya, come on up. Security is down," Harry told her, his tone quickly changing. Shortly afterwards, she heard the sound of the electronic lock unlocking. The security he was talking about were the more elaborate and powerful spells that George Weasley had designed to keep Harry's flat secure should he receive any unwanted magical visitors. The spells were as effective as they were creative. Even Harry wasn't sure what every spell did, just that he knew his home was very well protected.
Opening the door and stepping through, Padma stood on a small landing and gazed up the narrow stairwell at Harry's front door. Silencing her over active imagination, already spinning out of control over the possible outcomes of tonight, she summed her nerve and quickly ascended the stairs. Reaching the front door, Padma knocked twice quickly and waited. Her stomach lurched as she heard a few random shouts and footsteps coming towards the door. Padma blinked in surprise at who greeted her as the door swung open.
"Padma, it's so good to see you!" Hermione exclaimed as she stood in the doorway with a wide smile. "Come in. Harry's putting the final touches on it."
As Hermione stepped aside, Padma walked inside the flat. "I didn't know you were coming?"
"Harry invited us," Hermione answered.
"Us?"
Hermione smirked. "Ron's currently begging for scraps."
Padma snickered along with Hermione. While slightly disappointed, very slightly, she was happy her other friend was here too. It made her feel a little more comfortable. "You're here to brave Harry's cooking too?"
As they walked towards the kitchen, Hermione nodded. "He figured you'd be more comfortable if he poisoned a whole group of people."
"I heard that," Harry shouted from the kitchen. "Damn it, Ron! Get out of the way."
The women watched amusedly as Ron stumbled out of the kitchen, his mouth full of something he had swiped. Mouth too full to talk, he simply waved hello at Padma.
"There has to be a reason why I love him, I know there is," Hermione joked quietly to Padma.
"I am not going to poison anyone," Harry said trying to defend himself. "I can cook, you know."
"I know Harry," Hermione told him, as the ladies walked into the kitchen. "But you cook simple things. I've never seen you cook a proper dinner."
As Hermione and Harry playfully bickered back and forth, much like a brother and sister would, Padma looked around the kitchen. Harry stirred something in a pot as he talked to Hermione, while next to him on the counter was a large salad bowl. In the bowl, two large salad tongs were busy mixing the salad by themselves. Continuing to look around, she spotted a knife working by itself as well, cutting some kind of herb into thin strips.
I thought he'd be doing everything the normal way. I didn't even think he knew any cooking charms.
"What's in the bag?"
Harry's question snapped her out of her thoughts, and she looked at Harry wide-eyed. For a moment, Padma's brain just went blank at the simple question. "Uh… A bottle of wine," she lamely recovered. Quickly turning away from Harry, and ignoring the muffled giggle from Hermione, she pulled the bottle from the bag and placed it on the counter top. "I know you don't normally drink, but if anyone else wanted some or I guess you could even cook with it," she babbled.
"Come on, Padma," Hermione said, trying to save her from herself. "Let's leave the chef to his work."
"Before you go," Harry said, stopping them. Resting the wooden spoon against the edge of the pot, he drew his wand from a holster that he had secured on his hip. With a muttered spell and a wave of his wand, the spoon began stirring again.
Then, pointing his wand at an overhead cabinet, he opened it with a flick. "Wingardium Leviosa," Harry cast and a box floated down to him. "Swish and flick," Harry muttered softly, and grinned when he heard Hermione snicker.
Landing the box on the counter top, he opened it and withdrew two wine glasses. Setting them down, Harry opened the bottle of wine and poured it in the two glasses. "Enjoy," he said, handing the two wine glasses to the ladies.
"Thanks," they both told him before Hermione led Padma out of the small kitchen.
Just before leaving, Hermione caught Padma glancing back at Harry for a second. With a satisfied grin, Hermione took a small sip of the wine. Those two are pathetic. It's like they're little kids, afraid someone, like themselves, will realize they're crazy about each other.
Settling on the couch in the living room, Hermione watched Padma take a sip of her wine. "Where did you get the wine from?" Hermione asked casually.
"My father got two bottles as a thank you gift a while back, and since they don't drink much of anything anyway, he gave me the second bottle. I've been hanging on to it for a while."
"For a special occasion?" Hermione asked suggestively, trying to hide her smirk behind her wine glass.
"No," Padma said a little too defensively. "I just don't like showing up anywhere empty-handed."
"Hmm," Hermione said, not completely buying it for a moment. "Well, it's not bad. I've found that some of the best wine comes from the most unexpected places."
"What did you want to talk about?" Padma asked.
Hermione placed her wine glass down on top of an old magazine Harry had cluttered about his coffee table. Boys, not a coaster in sight. Shifting on the couch, Hermione turned to face Padma. "It's Harry."
When Padma frowned, Hermione tried not to laugh. "Not about you and Harry, just Harry this time." Slowly, Padma nodded; Hermione knew the other woman was growing tired of defending her relationship with Harry, but Hermione was going to keep nagging her until she finally realized what she really had.
"What about him?"
Hermione sighed as she looked back at the kitchen and Harry's back. "He's not happy." Returning her gaze to Padma, she saw the confused look on her face. "He's wearing himself out by working so much. It's like he's gotten rid of one cause and dove right in to another. I'm worried that if he doesn't loosen up, he's going to crash and burn."
Padma looked down at the remaining wine in her glass, and pondered Hermione's statement. She's right. It seems like all Harry does is work. He doesn't even go watch Quidditch anymore, much less take a vacation.
"What can I do?"
"Talk to him. Maybe you can get it through his thick skull that he needs to slow down a little and finally enjoy life."
"Why me? You're probably closer than anyone to him. I'd think he'd listen to you over anyone else."
"I probably am, since he's the brother I never had, but after nine-something years of me nagging him to death, he's kind of tuned me out," she told Padma sarcastically, and laughed a bit. "Besides, aside from Teddy, you're the only one he really talks to anymore. I don't think a three year old is going to be of much help with this."
Padma fell silent again, thinking. "I could probably sound him out a little," she agreed reluctantly. "Maybe convince him to take a couple of days off."
"Thank you," Hermione said. "I really wouldn't ask you unless I was worried."
"He is getting a little cranky lately," Padma joked half heartedly.
"Harry's not cranky," a third voice spoke up, and both girls looked up to regard Ron as he walked out of the spare bedroom, affectionately called 'his room', as it was where Ron ended up staying for a few nights when he would piss off Hermione.
"Please, Ron," Hermione reprimanded him, rolling her eyes. "You saw how he practically ripped into that cadet the other day, and for what? For forgetting a part of a useless report?"
"Look, I'm not saying Harry couldn't use a break, and that he's under a lot of pressure, mostly from himself," Ron said as he came to a stop before them in front of the couch. "But I don't think he's cranky."
"Than what do you think?" Hermione asked sharply.
Ron smirked, and couldn't help himself as he looked over at Padma as he answered Hermione's question. "He needs to find a witch who he can have a little fun with."
Padma arched an eyebrow at the double meaning of Ron's words. "And just what are you implying, Ron?" she asked slowly, trying to keep her voice even and not to lash out at the dunderhead.
"I just think if you and Harry got together one evening, it'd unwind him a little."
"Ronald!" Hermione snapped, a little louder than she wanted to. "You insensitive little prat. How could-" she started to rant, but Padma stopped her with an open hand.
Giving Ron a dangerous look, Padma took another sip of wine before saying anything. "Ron, I'd like to think we're friends now, and I think you've really grown up the past few years. But with an apology to Hermione, if you ever say something like that again, I will blast your bits off. Then, I'll tell Harry what you said, and we'll see if he's cranky or not."
Ron swallowed the lump in his throat. He tried not to appear afraid, and knew Padma wasn't completely serious about blasting him. But he really didn't want to deal with Harry. "Alright, I'll shut up," he said. Than as he left, he quietly muttered under his breath. "Crazy witches."
Once Ron was out of earshot, Hermione grinned a little at Padma. "Blast his bits off?" she asked rhetorically.
Padma giggled. "I overheard Harry one day. For such a small man, he sure does scare a lot of people."
"How are things at the bookstore?" Hermione asked as she retrieved her wine glass. "Harry says business is picking up."
"It is. By the way, your latest order should be in over the next few days. You know, I appreciate the support, but you don't have to keep buying twenty books. I know you like to read a lot, but how do you find the time to read them all and still order more?" Padma snickered at Hermione's embarrassed smile. "Anyway, did Harry tell you about what just came in?"
"No," Hermione asked curiously. "What?"
"Don't you dare tell her," Harry told Padma as he came out of the kitchen carrying a large platter.
"The Life of Harry Potter," Padma sang out before bursting into laughter as she saw Harry's annoyed face. "'An intimate look at the life of the wizarding world's savior'," she recited from the book cover in between laughs.
Hermione's lips twitched as she desperately wanted to laugh, but struggled with not wanting to in Harry's face. But it was too funny. Being one of the most protective of Harry's image, she naturally flipped through everything that came out about him. "Can you reserve me a copy?" she choked out as Harry threw his hands up in defeat after putting the tray down on the dinning table.
"Already have," Padma told her. "Tried to get him to autograph mine, but he wouldn't have any of it." That was the final straw, as both girls dissolved in to a fit of laughter.
"Great," Harry grumbled as headed back in to the kitchen to get everything else.
Dinner proceeded smoothly; with the only bump being Harry asking Hermione to please forgive Ron for whatever stupid thing he had done as he was tired of listening to him compliment her ever five seconds.
While the cooking wasn't perfect, Harry had far exceeded her expectations. Most of the very minor mistakes were simply from inexperience, and following the recipe too exactly. Unlike potions, where you had to follow the instructions to the letter, cooking was more open to interpretation. Though, by far, Padma's favorite part of the dinner had been the chocolate cake. She felt like she had gained ten pounds from just looking at it, much less the two pieces she had had.
For an hour or two after dinner, Padma had listened to the Golden Trio catch up, gossip a bit, even though the boys would never admit they did, and eventually start retelling old Hogwarts stories. Back when they were in school, Padma and other students knew Harry and company were up to more than just studying at night. But no one ever knew the full stories, just the outcomes and bits and pieces. But having grown closer to the inner group, and hearing all the stories, she kicked herself for missing all the signs. Everything seemed so obvious as she would listen to them talk, but she never put it all together to see it at the time.
Eventually, Hermione and Ron left, and Padma offered to help Harry clean up. After they levitated all the dirty dishes and plates into the kitchen, Padma stepped back as she watched Harry cast three successive charms. With an impressed smile, she watched as the dishpan filled with soapy water, and just as a scrub brush went airborne, the dishes began dunking themselves in the water.
"And here I thought you didn't know any household charms," Padma teased. Perhaps it was the two glasses of wine she had tonight, or maybe she was finally feeling brave enough, but at the moment she didn't feel many inhibitions with Harry. Usually, there would be a small voice in the back of her head, constantly double-checking everything she said or did. But right now, that voice was quiet.
She watched him turn to her and give her a grin that shot a tingle through her body. "I'm just full of surprises," he told her.
As Harry reached for the wine bottle, and then emptied the last of the wine into a glass, Padma found herself eyeing his backside. She then flushed as her imagination began wandering off to a few more risqué fantasies.
"Here," Harry said turning around and offering her the little bit of wine that was left. "Why don't you take that into the living room, and I'll be in in a second."
Padma simply nodded over the clanking of the now dry dishes that were beginning to stack themselves and float back to where they belong in the various cupboards. .
Placing the glass on the coffee table, Padma sat down on the couch, and nervously began to wipe her hands on her skirt. Pull yourself together. Just because you want him to throw you against the counter and screw you senseless, doesn't mean you fall to pieces around him. It's Ron's fault for putting this in my head. I should tell Hermione what he tried to get Harry to do in Paris last month. That'll serve him right.
Padma was pulled from her rambling thoughts by Harry walking into the living room from the bedrooms. Bloody hell, I didn't even see him leave the kitchen, she thought as he sat down next to her.
"What?" she asked awkwardly as he just sat there silently, watching her. The silence made her uneasy, and the way he was looking at her didn't help either.
"Sorry," Harry mumbled, and then he placed a small package in his lap. "I know your birthday isn't for another week, but I wanted to give you your small gift now."
"Small gift?" she asked, and he nodded yes in return.
Handing the package to her, Harry sat back and watched as Padma slowly pulled the wrapping paper away. In what he thought was her being her in trying to save the pretty paper, was actually an attempt to stall so she could try and calm herself down.
Now holding the box in her hand, she read the label of a jewelry store. Opening the lid as if she was handing a bomb, Padma then looked inside and saw laying on some tissue paper was a thin, green bangle.
With a weak laugh, Padma lifted it up and examined it in the light.
"I saw it awhile ago in the window, and I thought you'd like it."
"I love it, Harry," she said softly. Carefully pushing up the other bangles that adorned her right wrist; she slipped the new one on. As she lightly fingered all the bangles, she felt conflicted. But while she would've normally kept her mouth shut, that internal check was off right now, and words just sprang from her mouth.
"Harry, what do you really know about me?" she asked suddenly, slowly looking back at him.
"Uh?" he asked confused, and off guard. "What do you mean?"
"Beyond the obvious, what do you really know about me?" she repeated.
Sensing that this wasn't the time to goof around, Harry bit his tongue and resisted the sarcastic comment on the tip of his tongue. He shifted to the edge of the couch, moving closer to her. "Well… Your favorite color is orange, you always drink tea with at least two spoonfuls of sugar, you're third generation Indian but you speak Marathi fluently, or at least better than I can speak another language, um… you love chocolate."
Padma was about to snap at him that all those were pretty obvious, but when he continued, she lost her voice.
"Your name means 'lotus', which symbolizes purity and divinity," he said softly, and then leaned forward so his face was inches from hers. "You also have a small lotus blossom tattooed on your hip," he whispered to her with a small smirk.
"How do you know that?" Padma asked quickly, her voice cracking.
"I do read, you know. And, I'm very observant," Harry answered. He laughed when she gave him a doubtful look. "I do read when something interests me."
"Oh, so I interest you," Padma teased. "What else do you think you know about me?"
Reaching out, Harry took Padma's right hand. "You're the older twin, and usually the more level headed one. I also know you still miss her, and you think about her a lot," he said seriously, running the fingers of his other hand over the bangles that adorned her wrist.
When Padma shifted nervously, Harry loosened his grip on her hand but didn't let go. He knew they both felt uncomfortable about the subject of death, especially on those they lost. So, he changed subjects to something lighter.
Seeing Padma chew her bottom lip, Harry grinned. "And, then, when you're nervous," he said, leaning in and whispering in to her ear. "You start to chew on your lip." He laughed softly when Padma immediately stopped doing it.
"Then, there's the fact, that you almost always wear a skirt, except in the coldest of weather."
Padma turned her head slightly, seeing him better, and she regarded him with a curious look. "And, what does that have to do with anything?" She instinctively tugged down on the hem of the skirt she had been wearing.
"Nothing, besides the fact that you show off your legs," Harry whispered, letting his eyes wander for a moment over her legs. "You've got this whole naughty librarian look working for you," he said as his gaze returned to her eyes.
"Naughty librarian," she repeated, beginning to giggle. "Are you serious?"
Slipping an arm around her waist, Harry shifted closer and closed the small gap between them. "You thought I liked taking you out to lunch every weekend for the abuse?"
When she had felt his arm around her, she jumped a little in surprise, but then quickly found himself settling comfortably in his embrace. "I thought it was for my sparkling personality," she fired back, making them both laugh.
Feeling bold, Harry slipped his free hand underneath her stocking clad legs and scooped her up, depositing her on his lap and wrapping both arms around her. "So, does that answer your question, Ms. Patil? I think I do know some about you, but I am very interested in knowing what else makes that mind of yours tick."
The buzz of the wine dying, Padma began hearing that annoying little voice in the back of her head again. But, for one of the few times in her life, she chose to ignore it. "Maybe, but it does bring up the interesting question: what do I know about you?" she asked, remembering her conversation earlier with both Harry and Hermione. She had been struck by inspiration.
"What do you want to know?" Harry asked.
Draping her arms around his shoulders, Padma looked down at him with a small smile. "Everything."
"You sure about that?"
She nodded yes. "I'm a Ravenclaw, so I love a good mystery. And you, my dear, are a good mystery. I have this Saturday off, how about I take iyou/i out to lunch?" she offered. "Then, maybe afterwards, we can come back here and have a bit of dessert."
"Did prim and proper Ms. Patil, just make an innuendo?" Harry asked her with a wolfish grin.
"Maybe. Though, I'm surprised you even know what innuendo means?" Padma shot back with a smile.
"I can use big words too if I want. I bet there are things I know that you don't."
"I'm sure there are," she told him, beginning to tilt her head opposite of Harry's. "Care to share?" she whispered faintly before pressing her lips against his. What started as a small, first kiss quickly exploded into an intense, passionate kiss.
So engrossed in the kiss, Harry quickly found himself falling backwards on to the couch, with Padma on top of him.
Sitting on her bed, with her legs folded underneath her, Padma looked down on a small, handcrafted jewelry box. As she stared intently at the box, as if of their own accord, her fingers began running over the set of bangles on her wrist.
Just an hour or so ago, she had woken up to find herself happily curled up in Harry's arms. After falling back on the couch, they had made out for a short while, but had spent the last few hours simply talking. Eventually, they must have fallen asleep.
It had taken a lot of effort to make herself slip away from his side. A task made more difficult because she didn't want to wake him. Then, standing over him, she had watched him sleep for a moment. With a small smile, she had reached down and delicately removed his glasses from his face and put them on the coffee table before forcing herself to leave. Once outside, and a few feet away from Harry's building, she Apparated to her own apartment.
After a quick shower, Padma had lain down to sleep, but was restless and kept tossing and turning. Giving up, she rolled on to her back and stared up at the ceiling. It was nights like these that she just couldn't get her mind to stop spinning.
She found herself at a crossroads. She could go one way, and keep everything as it was. Or, she could go the other way, and everything would change. But for the better or for the worse?
It had been then that she had gone to her nightstand, and withdrew the jewelry box that she currently was staring at.
Stopping herself from fingering the bangles, she reached out and with her fingertips, traced the letters that had been engraved into the wooden box. P.P.
Opening the lid, Padma looked inside at an assortment of jewelry that lay inside. She never could keep anything organized, Padma thought sadly. Everything was together in the jewelry box; rings, earrings, more bangles were all just jumbled up in the main compartment.
He's right. I do miss her so much. It's like there's something missing, and every time I look in the mirror, I see her staring back. It was times like these that Padma hated being a twin, much less an identical twin.
Standing up, she walked over to her vanity and looked at her reflection. "So what should I do?" she asked the reflection, as if she was asking Parvati for guidance. You date the hot guy! Padma answered, using the words she knew Parvati would answer with.
Sighing softly, her eyes wondered to a picture that hung on the wall. In it, two young teenagers laughed and smiled as they mugged for the camera.
Taking the picture off the wall, Padma remembered when it had been taken. Last Hogsmeade weekend of sixth year. Lisa took this just as we came out of Honeydukes.
Reaching her bed, she stopped and gazed down at the picture in her hands. The boy in the picture had been Terry Boot, her first and only boyfriend. He too had been taken from her during the Battle of Hogwarts.
For a long time, she had walked around with a lot of anger, and most of the time, she took it out on the wrong people. Especially Harry, but he was too easy of a target. But he took it all. Even when I called him everything in the book, he just took it and brushed it all off. Of anyone, he could've told me off. Stop being a crybaby! So you've lost a few people! I've lost almost everyone!
With a deep breath, she put the picture down next to the jewelry box. It was the only picture she had left out, unable to put it away with the others in the album, even years later. "Accio wand."
Catching the wand as it sailed towards her from her nightstand, Padma turned towards the living room. Through the doorway, she gave the wand a small snap. "Accio blue photo album."
A few seconds later, a small blue photo album sailed into her room that she caught with ease. Sitting down on the ground and placing her wand next to her, she placed the album on her lap but kept it shut. Leaning back against the bed, Padma took a deep breath that she let out slowly as she closed her eyes. Her mind quickly wondering off.
Not to the battle, she had relived that too many times. Agonizing over every detail and possibility, so certain that there had to have been a way to save them. But there wasn't. Hermione and her parents had helped her realize there hadn't been. In a twisted way, Parvati had always told her fate was unenviable. She was now quick to say fate was a bitch.
Instead, she thought back to the day after to the battle. She had been hiding in the library, probably the only place that at the time had given her any solace. It had also been the perfect hiding spot as nobody was about, having to tend to other, more important things than books. Hiding amongst the stacks, she had cried for awhile, but eventually just sat there staring off into space as for the first time in her life, she felt numb and her mind just couldn't process anything.
His footsteps had been the first thing she had noticed. That and his muffled swearing as he must've stubbed his toe on a desk or shelf. Eventually, he passed by her. She could vividly remember how he looked when he came into view, tugging at the collar of his dress robes and muttering to himself. By that same damn fate he had stopped, frustrated by a button as he tore at it. He must've finally noticed he wasn't alone, and looked around until he saw her.
Opening his mouth, he had looked like he was going to say something, but had quickly closed it. By his expression and quick looks around, she thought he was looking for an escape. To walk off, leaving her to her mourning.
Later, she found out from him, that while many praised him as a hero, there were those that blamed him. Mostly made up of those that had lost loved ones. He already knew about Parvati. He didn't tell her then, but he had been there when she was killed. Later, she'd learned that Parvati had died protecting an unconscious Lavender from Fenir Greyback. Harry was worried that she too blamed him. But because of what she and Hermione called his 'hero complex", he had stayed. iThe hero always has to help the damsel in distress,/i she would tease him now.
He had walked over to her and sat down next to her on the floor between the stacks. For a short while, they just sat there in silence. She had returned to her blank world, when she felt his larger hand gently cover her own. Looking over as he gave her hand a soft squeeze, she found herself looking into a pair of tired green eyes.
Looking at him, she saw what she felt. Even though she turned her gaze away, she closed her fingers around his. In the end, she had no idea how long they sat there, each lost in their own thoughts.
Slowly opening her eyes, Padma's mind returned to the present and her dark apartment. Yawning as she stretched her arms above her head, she glanced out her bedroom window and could see the dark night sky starting to lighten, signaling dawn was approaching.
Picking up the photo album from her lap, she slowly stood up. Covering her mouth as she yawned, Padma tried to keep her eyes open as tiredness was finally starting to over take her. She put the book down on the bed next to the picture of her and Terry.
Looking over the various reluctant keepsakes, she felt torn as she struggled with a decision. "It's time to move on," Padma said softly. "I love you both, but I have to keep going forward."
Taking the picture out of its frame, Padma then opened the photo album to the next available spot. Placing the picture into the album, she took one last look before closing it. Then, with her left hand, she began to slide the bangles off her wrist.
Keeping Harry's thin green one, she had just taken off the final one, but held it in her hand instead of putting it in the pile with the others. It was thick, a deep purple, with something that made it sparkle in the light. Parvati's favorite. Sliding it back on, Padma decided to keep just the one. As if she truly needed it, a physical reminder of her sister. She smiled a little as the purple bangle settled against the green one.
After taking the time to carefully arrange her sister's jewelry inside the box, just as she did the photo album, she closed the lid and locked it shut.
Going to her closet, she reached into the bottom of it, and withdrew a small chest that she then carried back to her bed.
In an intricate movement, she waved her wand over the chest and it doubled in size. Then with a second motion, "Seeker," she said, and the chest unlocked and the lid flipped itself open.
Even though the outside of the chest had doubled in size, expanding to its true size, inside was even bigger. The box itself was called a treasure chest, and held other keepsakes and treasures of Padma's from when she was a very young child. Originally, her mother had bought it for both of her daughters, and as they grew up, would occasionally pack a treasured possession of theirs away in it.
For Padma, it ranged from at least a dozen stuffed animals that she use to read to when she was young to an antique necklace her grandmother had brought over from India that she loved. Probably one of Padma's most prized possessions was an actual lotus blossom, magically preserved, that she had found on one of the family's few trips back to India.
Now, she was placing more keepsakes inside her treasure box. Things that she was finally starting to admit she was moving past. Taking Parvati's jewelry box, Padma reached into the chest and grabbed one of the drawers that lined the inside. Within the drawer was a small jewelry case that held her grandmother's necklace. Placing Parvati's box alongside it, she carefully shut the drawer.
Then, taking the photo album that held so many pictures of her and Terry, which in turn held so many more memories, she opened a small back panel in the chest. The panel revealed a small shelf that held other old family photo albums and a couple of passed down story books. Shifting the various books around, Padma placed the photo album among them. After giving the album one more longing look, she shut the panel.
Closing her eyes, she reached out and manually shut the lid. After shrinking it back down to its storing size, and putting it away, Padma picked up the empty photo frame.
Now on the road that would change everything, Padma found herself smiling slightly. "So, I guess the question is 'what now?'."
Padma sat at their usual table in the Leaky Cauldron, a small round table in one of the private parlor rooms, lost in her own thoughts as she waited for Harry to join her. He had been oddly quiet since last weekend. When he hadn't said anything in a few days, she ended up sending him an owl making sure he was still going to meet her for lunch. Although, it seemed realizing that he was coming made her even more anxious than when she didn't know.
Wrapping her fingers around her tea cup, she sighed softly as she felt the warmth spread through her hands. With a small grin, Padma tipped the cup towards her and gazed down at the bronze colored liquid.
"Funny, I'd never expect you to try to read the tea leaves."
Padma looked up and smiled at the waitress and her friend. "Just making sure I consult everything," she answered sarcastically. "How've you been, Hannah?"
"Busy," the former Hufflepuff replied, pouring more tea into Padma's cup. "Tom's been real sick lately, leaving me with more of the day to day stuff on top of everything else."
Then with a swish of the wand, she banished the empty teapot to the kitchen, and settled the new, full one in its place. "Been hitting the stuff pretty hard," Hannah said with a warm smile. Most of the girls of the Defense Association had bonded tightly together, having lived in such cramped quarters for most of their seventh year.
As Padma took a sip of tea, Hannah studied the other woman as she settled down in the chair next to her. After a few moments of silence, Hannah giggled as Padma looked back up at her and then rolled her eyes.
"What?" Padma asked.
"How's Harry?" Hannah asked, with a sing song tone to her voice.
"Don't you ever get tired of playing matchmaker?"
Shaking her head no, Hannah just continued to smile. "I've been working almost around the clock the last few days, and I haven't seen my fiancé in almost two months. My personal life is pretty much non-existent, so I have to live vicariously through someone. You just happen to have the Wizarding World's most eligible bachelor wrapped around your finger. Now, what happened?"
Admitting defeat, and realizing there was no more use denying it, she told Hannah what happened. Running a hand through her hair, "I've finally put some things to rest, and I feel… ready for this."
"And him?" Hannah asked. Seeing Padma's smile falter for a moment as she shrugged an 'I don't know' sort of shrug, she reached out and squeezed her hand. "Trust me, he's into you. I know it. It's just… he's Harry. He's not exactly the most emotionally healthy person. But he's bonkers about you."
Padma snickered. "How do you know?"
"If nothing else, the way he looks at you, like you're the only person in the entire room. Be patient, it'll be worth it in the end."
"Am I interrupting?" Harry's voice asked from the doorway of the parlor.
"Just a bit of girl talk," Hannah answered first. "I'll get your lunches. The usual, right?" she asked standing up. When both nodded slightly, Hannah snickered and shook her head. As she moved past Harry, she paused and touched his arm. "Don't screw up," she told him softly.
For a moment, Harry was confused, but when he saw Hannah glance back at Padma, he understood. He just gave her a simple nod.
Giving his arm a soft squeeze, Hannah left the pair for the kitchen. Walking over, Harry sat down in the chair Hannah had vacated.
Padma watched Harry fidget for a moment, before he looked over at her and started talking. Or, more accurately, 'started rambling'.
"Look, I'm sorry about last weekend. I shouldn't have sprung it on you like that. It's just, Sara pushed the right buttons, and I wanted to prove her wrong, not that it's anyone else's fault. But, if I made you feel uncomfortable, I'm sorry. Then later, I never meant to take advantage of you like that. I knew you had some wine, but I-"
Harry was interrupted by Padma pressing her fingers to Harry's lips. "Stop," she told him, smiling softly at him. She knew Harry would probably try and fall on his sword like the hero that he was. "Nothing happened that I didn't want to happen. I may have had a few drinks, but I was in full control of myself. I kissed you because I wanted to kiss you. Wanted to do for a long time."
She giggled a little when Harry blushed faintly. "I probably shouldn't have just taken off without saying anything. But I just needed to figure some things out, stuff that I've been putting off for too long." Sliding her fingers off his lips, Padma slipped her hand underneath Harry's and looked into his damned green eyes. Her smile grew bigger as she felt Harry's larger fingers wrap around her hand.
"So, if I kiss you again, you won't disappear afterwards?" Harry teased, lightly testing the waters.
Padma smirked at him. "If you kiss me again, I'll do something more than just disappear," she answered suggestively.
Leaning in towards her, a more natural smile took the place of the fake polite one Harry had been wearing. "Better be careful, I just may call your bluff."
"Well, let's put it this way then," Padma said, leaning in towards him. "Play your cards right, and this naughty librarian just may let you browse the restricted section."
For a moment, Padma could see a bunch of emotions sweep across Harry's face. I think I might've broken him, she joked to herself.
Breaking from his mental freeze, Harry rubbed his chin with his free hand. "So, does that mean we have to tell them they were right about us?"
Padma laughed. "They'll never let us hear the end of it."
"Seriously, are you ready for what's to come? Being Harry Potter's girlfriend isn't exactly as glamorous as it looks. It's not fun being under that microscope."
"I know, and I'm ready," she answered simply. "Whatever comes, I think you just might be worth it. Just don't disappoint me," she joked.
As Harry laughed, Hannah brought their lunch. "I'll try not to."
On her way out, both Harry and Padma heard Hannah mumble softly, but loudly enough to be heard. "About bloody time."
After lunch, Padma sat quietly, thinking as she watched Harry finish his Butterbeer. An idea was brewing in her head. Not realizing it, a small grin had formed on her face.
"What are you scheming?" Harry asked her.
"I was thinking," she started, but Harry cut her off.
"Why is it when you've been thinking, I end up with more work?"
"Just hear me out," Padma scolded. "With all the Harry Potter books floating out there, we both agree that maybe half of what's in them has any basis in truth. But all we do is complain about it, so why don't we do something about it instead?
"I think we should write our own book. Harry Potter, in his own words. I think the real story is far more interesting than the junk they make up. I'll do the actual writing, and all you have to do is talk. Heck, we'll interview everyone too: Hermione, Ron, Luna," Padma said, growing excited.
Seeing how passionate and enthusiastic Padma was about the idea, Harry actually found himself wavering on it. "Why would I care if the real story is out there or not?" he asked, lamely putting up a final defense. "They're just going to keep making stuff up."
"Because the truth should be out there," Padma answered him. "Even if only one person read it, it'd be worth it. But I think there are a lot of people out there who would want to read it. Just give it a chance, you'll have final say on everything. We'll only cover whatever you're comfortable with. Plus, I really believe us working together on this could bring us even closer."
"When are we going to even have time to do this?" Harry asked, clinging to a last thread. "You work full time, and who knows what my schedule is going to be from week to week."
"I can easily cut back on my hours at the bookstore, and when was the last time you took any time off? I think the Ministry can operate without you for awhile," she argued, easily batting away his objection. "Some time off would do you good anyway."
"Why is this so important to you?"
"Because people should know-"
"No, to you?" Harry asked again.
Padma looked down at the table for a moment as she gave his question some thought. This sudden drive was a combination of a lot of things. Seeing all the other books, Hermione asking her to talk to him about finding something other than the Ministry, but if she was truthful, it was really a selfish reason why she wanted to do the book. "Because, even if we don't ever sell a copy, or even get it printed," she began, raising her eyes to look back in to his. "I want to know these things," she told him honestly. "I want to know the real story of the man I'm falling for."
Harry leaned back in his chair for a moment, arms folded across his chest, as he mulled it over. He wasn't entirely comfortable with putting his thoughts into print, but Padma could put up a persuasive argument, and he trusted her.
"I get final say on everything?" Harry asked. Padma nodded rapidly, sensing him starting to crumble. "Fine, we'll give it a try," he finally said, albeit reluctantly The way Padma's face lit up was almost enough for Harry to forget the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.
"Where are we going to start first?" Harry asked.
"Well, I figured we could start with what I know best," Padma replied with her lips curling in to an evil grin. "Just how bad of a date you really are."
"Are you ever going to let me live that down?"
"Not likely," Padma told him as she took some coins from her purse. "But, I'm sure you can find a way to make it up to me," she taunted, giving him a seductive look.
Leaving the parlor, and saying goodbye to Hannah, the couple walked through the courtyard in the back, and then out on to Diagon Alley.
As they paused at the entrance of the street, Harry looked around, enjoying the unusually warm spring day. "The day is ours, where do you want to go?"
Padma thought about it for a moment. "I'm feeling adventurous," she told him as she linked her arm with his. "How about we just go, and see where it takes us."