Earlier…
Turning around a corner he saw her trying to remove what appeared to be two of her books from the very wall (apparently, someone thought it was a fun trick to meld them in). Exhausted and out of ideas, she just collapsed her back against the rock, sitting on the floor.
"Rough day?" he inquired, sitting next to her. Surprised to see him, she just mumbled a "Hey, Harry," wiping what appeared to be a solitary tear beginning to slide down her cheek.
"You could say so."
"Interesting art form. Doubt Filch would approve, though," he said, poking the books now a little bit over his own head.
"My thoughts exactly. Prefer to have them out before he gets a chance to see it," she said placidly, disguising her nerves.
"How did they get there?" he said, shifting to examine the books a bit closer. "What was it that Hermione kept babbling on about transfigurating and rune engraving…?"
"Ah, who knows… this is Hogwarts, Harry. Stranger things have happened."
He eyed her back. "Padma..."
"Don't, Harry... just don't." She seemed tired. "Not worth the trouble."
"You know," he said, describing a small symbol which started to glow at one of the book's covers, just to disappear a while later. He cursed silently before continuing… "I get the whole 'taking the high road' thing, Padma, I really do."
"Why do I sense a 'however' coming…?"
"Because it is," he retorted, trying another pattern. Nothing happened. "At some point… you just have to start fighting back."
"You would know," she replied, laughing shortly. "Never really see you exercise restraint when it comes to Malfoy and his friends."
Harry laughed too. "Hey! I restrain myself much more than they deserve."
"I'm sure you do."
Harry decided to give up on saving the books; the last resort he had could either work or liquefy them, and that wasn't a chance he was willing to take. Instead he stood up and offered a hand to Padma. "We should find Prof. Minerva, she'll know how to get them out."
"Indeed, Potter," came a voice behind them as soon as they were both back up. "Hogwarts doesn't see with good eyes students who use their knowledge to predate the school."
She was followed by several 'minion giggles'. Harry sighed. "This is getting really old…"
"Pansy. Would love to say I'm surprised," he said, turning to meet the newcomers, shielding Padma partially with his frame.
"Surprised? What could you possibly mean, Potter? This corridor is one of my everyday routes… I'm always here."
"I'm sure that the corridor itself is deeply saddened by this fact, but there's only so much it can do to change things, even in Hogwarts," he shot back, calmly but unable to run around circles. "She makes this far too easy…"
Taken aback without a poisonous reply, she glared. "You didn't look so smart trying to remove those books just now, did you?"
"Certainly. But neither will you, once I call Professor McGonagall and she decides how to punish you for putting them there in the first place."
"And how exactly is she going to do that, Potter?" she whispered in defiance.
"Did you know that wands have memories, Parkinson?"
Silence. The kind you feel that may take a while to end, but you really wish it didn't. Harry was actually enjoying it…
"What do you…?"
"Memories," he said, determined not to let her waste any second thinking more than she needed to. "A wand stores inside it a memento of spells recently cast through it. It's actually quite easy for an accomplished wizard – such as any of our professors, I think – to figure out the patterns of the last spells a wand helped to perform. But I'm sure that, being innocent as you claim to be… you wouldn't mind to have your wand tested, would you?"
It could be a bluff and he knew it… but one worth trying.
Pansy froze in place, the mask completely off. Harry stood there, perfectly still between the Slytherins and Padma. It terrified him a little, the seemingly directionless and wicked ways these girls displayed. Making other people's lives miserable just because they couldn't seem to have the life they felt they deserved. All too familiar, all too close to Privet Drive. "Dudley must have his ears red by now."
Slowly… deadly slowly… Pansy headed for the wall and muttered some strange incantation. Seconds later, she dropped the books on the floor, turned around and signaled for the others girls to follow her.
"This… is not… over, Potter," she hissed.
"Oh, I'm sure it isn't," he said to no one in particular as they disappeared. He picked up the books and handed them to Padma. She did not seem pleased.
"Something wrong? Any other books cemented around here?"
"No… and I do appreciate the help, Harry, don't think that I don't… it's just…"
"Just…?"
"Not meaning to be ungrateful, but… I think this will only make it worse."
"It won't."
"You can't be sure of that," she replied quietly, heading down the corridor. Harry followed by her side, fastening the catch of his backpack. As if sensing her explanation hadn't been enough, she went on: "Look, it's just that I can't always expect you, or my sister, or anyone else to jump and help me…"
"Well, that's kind of my point… don't."
Padma eyed him somewhat angrily. He didn't bother stopping. "Come on, Padma… you're smarter than all those girls combined… and their future children."
Took a few seconds for the statement to really sink in, but she laughed, visibly less tense. He smiled. "See? You know I'm right… so start acting so."
They locked eyes and Harry could see that she wanted no more than to be able to do just that…
"I will try. Promise," she said simply. "Anyway… this is me."
They had reached a T-ended passageway. The Ravenclaw indicated left, the Gryffindor right, both smiling. Theirs was the domain of towers, only in quite opposite sides of the school. It was only as she was making the first step away that it hit him…
"Why not?"
"Hey, Padma…"
He felt like choking and all of a sudden this didn't seem a brilliant idea anymore. He had been loud enough for her to turn on her heels, though.
"Harry?"
"Come on, you bloody idiot, she's just your friend… not like you'll die if she doesn't want to accept… Hell, maybe just a little."
"Look," he took a moment to get the words right... "are you attending the Ball with someone, already?"
She stared at him, more thoughtful than anything else. "No, not really… Anthony asked me, but he's been such an idiot lately that I – as politely as I could – refused. Some friends of mine are alone too, so I'll think I'll just go with them."
"I see. Well, is it too late to reconsider that plan of yours?" he asked, a hint of a smile in his lips, embarrassed to the bone. "Who are you?"
Padma stared at him silently for a few seconds. She could very well guess where he was getting at, but it was a safer bet to allow the words to be properly spoken before jumping to conclusions. "I suppose not... but what's the alternative?"
"Let me take you to it. Grant me the honor, that is," he added hastily, in what he deemed a catastrophic attempt of sounding casual. Padma's smile grew slowly, suspicious.
"You want me to go to the Ball… with you?"
"Okay, I know I'm not the best Champion and all, but I'm not that bad," he joked. "There you have it… who else could I try to inv…?"
"Oh, no," she blushed furiously, "forget that nonsense… I'm not supporting Cedric any more than you… we all know you didn't really sign up for this… well, those of us with a brain," to which he smiled gratefully, "but… let's face it… we don't hang out that much either, Harry, so…"
"So…?"
She opened her mouth to speak, but fell silent. Taking a few steps back the way she came, closing in on him, she looked deeply into Harry's eyes, searching for any signs of the dark places she had come to fear the worst; feelings she did not need, nor want, on people staring back at her.
"I just don't want you to invite me for the wrong reasons," she resumed.
"Such as…?"
"Harry… are you sure you're not just asking me to go with you out of…"
And although she couldn't say the word, he knew it was pity. Perhaps, in a minimal level, this was a way of trying to keep an eye on her, make her feel safe. But there was so much more than that… he needed her right now much more than she needed him… even if just as someone to share the firing squad with.
"Look," he said, forcing her to keep eye contact, "did you happen to consider that, precisely because we don't spend much time together, this would be a good idea?"
She looked confused. Harry looked quickly out the window, building the phrases in his mind, addressing her just a second before their eyes met again: "Padma, you're a bright, intelligent girl, you're fun to be around, and (although he blushed furiously and looked away again while his speech grew in speed and lowered in volume, he maintained his resolve) ifthatalonewasn'tenoughyou'rereallybeautiful. My point is… you're just about as perfect a company as I could hope for. Not just to represent the school, but to actually enjoy the party with."
She smiled weakly, acknowledging the difficulty this represented to him as well… the compliments he paid her, even if not openly admitted, had managed to completely wash away the bad memories of that day. But since all she did was smile in that puzzling manner, Harry assumed he was going to listen the "I'm so sorry" speech and braced himself.
"But I get that it's a lot to ask in such short notice, so I'll guess I'll…"
"Yes."
"What was that again…?"
"Hm?"
"Yes. As in 'I would like to go with you, Harry'," she said, beaming.
He couldn't really decide on what to say. Chose the wiser reply he had available...
"Are you sure? In fairness, I have to tell you, this could get ugly to your feet," was all he could gather. He was positive he could hear crowds cheering somewhere... and was pretty sure that, in real time, he was screwing up his own effort.
Luckily, she wasn't. Padma laughed. "Yes… it would be pitiful to see all that speech go to waste," she mocked. "And as far as dancing goes, Harry, there is time before the actual event. We can go over the basics if you'd like," she added, her timid self restored but somewhat equalized to the moment.
"That would be great, actually." He sounded truly relieved. Asking for Professors MgGonagall or Trelawney for dance classes didn't really seem to make his spirits rise…
"Deal. I really have to go now, so… talk to you soon?" she asked, a foot back, preparing to turn around, books close to her chest.
"Sure. Take care, Padma."
"You too, Harry," she added as a final note, her smile a portent of things finally going his way. Someone wanted him dead, there were nightmares at night, obtuse, but loyal friends and cunning enemies in collision routes around the bend. Right now, though, none of that seemed to matter. Right now he was just a kid asking a friend out. And that was enough.
Back at the Common Room…
"What about you?" he inquired. Certainly Parvati was not considering her sister's alternative of going alone, but as far as Harry knew, none of his colleagues had made the first move yet. In the chess game that begins days before a Ball, it seemed to Harry that the Gryffindor before him was on par with girls like Fleur for the time being: a (not-so) silent Queen, dancing at all directions as she pleased, but still waiting for a King moving far too slowly, still one square at a time.
"Oh, I'm pretty sure I'm going to invite Weasley," she said nonchalantly, eyes on a cloud coming closer to the castle.
"Which one?" he asked playfully, but at the same time pondering.
"Ron," she retorted, in a tone that clearly stated that all other alternatives meant Harry was crazy.
…
"You seem surprised."
"Sort of am," he confessed. "I'm not above understanding the opportunity to bond (somehow, a big part of why he had invited Padma in the first place, if he was being honest…), but I hardly ever see the two of you talking."
"Well," she started, eyes back to the table and then focused on Harry again, "to be honest I was – as I'm sure you were too – expecting that he would invite… well, you know…"
"I know," he smiled. "She's nobody's fool."
"… but fact stands that he didn't – fancied himself a Champion, for that matter – and now, if the rumors are true – and they usually are – she's taken. Her, I mean. Not the French lady."
"It would appear so."
"In the meantime, Dean only has eyes for Ginny, even if he doesn't admit it. Neville has his eyes set on something and only he knows what it is, but he has Dean's dream girl as his date," she shrugged, as if Life had its ironies for everyone.
"Seamus?"
"Only seems to care about how much alcohol will be involved in the party," she half laughed, "which is a pity because he looks a little easier on the eyes this year. If he so much as mention streaking, Hannah Abbott owes me a Galleon."
Harry shook his head, terrified with the possibility.
"You went and got the second hottest girl in school as your date (to this, Harry laughed out loud)… and then, there was Weasley. In a coma and charming as ever."
"What about other Houses?"
"You have to be kidding."
He laughed shortly of her 'patriotism'. "I get it. So…"
"So… I figured I'd just invite him myself… as soon as he is functional again, of course. He's a bit of an idiot sometimes, but aren't you all at this age?" she said sweetly, causing Harry to glare.
Girls…
AUTHOR NOTES: I should tell in advance I'm not entirely satisfied with this chapter… but decided to do a little bit of research with all of you. I'm pretty sure I got the characters like I wanted them, but some parts… well, I'll let you read, REVIEW, and tell me how does it look.
I'm almost positive the Ball itself will require more than one chapter… why? That's for me to know and you to guess, at least until the chapters are out. I'd like to use the opportunity and thank for all the support I've been getting. Keep it up, I'll try and do the same.
Hope to hear from you soon,
Intervigilium