I really HATE this chapter, I'm sorry. But I didn't want to delete it, so up it comes. Don't feel obliged to read it.


P U R P L E

Parvati never liked to be confused with her sister.

But now and again when she needs to use the Prefect's bathroom or speak to a Ravenclaw, it's all to easy to slip into that character that is Padma Patil. The softer voice and quieter outlook, the scarlet heart drops into the azure disguise so often that Parvati's afraid she might be turning purple.

So in her mind, Parvati sees Lavender and just as purple a companion walking down the corridor. October rain slaps itself against the windows, covering their voices as if protecting them.

But it doesn't muffle the sounds of echoing footsteps behind them. Lavender performs her best spell and disappears into the wall behind her, leaving only Parvati feeling lavender herself.

"Patil!" Alecto Carrow screeches. Parvati's glad she's wearing plain robes and turns around.

Parvati drops her red and gold voice to bronze and blue tones, answering "I'm just going up to the common room, can I help you?"

Alecto, lopsided and wheezing stops. "Oh, it's you. Thought it was your good-for-nothing sister." She turns and limps away.

Lavender illusions herself again and speeds round the corner. "Don't know how you stand it," she whispers.

Parvati, the old Parvati, could not. She would stand crimson and deny it. But the old Parvati, the one that is brave and true, has disappeared somewhere in the course of these past months.

Suddenly, the Patil twins aren't twins anymore. They're triplets. The third sister has the same inky hair and soft treated skin, and she shares Parvati's scar from falling off a broom but both sisters know that she isn't the same girl.

Lavender frowns as she sees scarlet Parvati attempting to break free, to make herself known, to be red and gold again.

But the third Patil twin stays put, and stays strong. She's a lot safer a person to be this year. When you're violet, nobody can touch you because you shouldn't exist.

Lavender's more Brown these days, down to earth and blunt. Sometimes her eyes glisten with tears but Parvati notices her wiping them hastily away. But the third sister ignores them. It's the girl's own fault, after all. For being there. The old Parvati, she's gone, she was weak. Her strength was her weakness, her pride in being crimson and gold, the fearless wish to do good.

But red's been switched to blue so much in these past weeks that it's diluted. Like blood swirled with ink, the third sister, not clever enough to be blue, makes her own standard. Afraid to be Gryffindor, afraid, even by itself, knocks the lion heart out. Instead there's a griffin, something morphed and unreal, on a marbled background.

Because when you don't exist, you're free.