A/N: Thank you Tiggs for betaing, and for the entire team for sticking it out 'till the very end. You guys are all awesome, and I hope to see you all in Mahoutokoro next season ;)

International Wizarding School Championship: Finals – School: Mahoutokoro, Year: 1, Theme: Pygmy Puff (write about something uncharacteristic), Special Rule: include the animal, Main Prompt: (colour) purple, Additional Prompts: (setting) Diagon Alley, (emotion) confusion

Our link is quite complex; the main idea is that the event is the grand re-opening of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. George is handing out Pygmy Puffs to every arrival, every guest has to wear something purple, and we are all writing about confrontations between characters for our theme. The weather is rainy, but towards the end of the party, a rainbow appears out of the rain. We also have stories that all start with the letter 'M' (in memory of Mahoutokoro), and we all have the same cover picture.

Word count: 2280

The morning had not gone as Hermione had imagined. Her hair, which she had managed to tame somewhat over the past years, started acting out again. Her landlord had Floo'd her that morning because some dunderhead neighbour had broken the water pipes. But even worse, she had had an argument with the host of the party she was now sulking at: George Weasley.

To be fair, she perhaps should not have reacted quite as harshly as she had, but, well, she was right. The purple clothing she could understand, and she did her best to fulfil the criteria: she wore a lavender blouse, magenta jeans, and to top it off, a deep purple robe. The Pygmy Puffs, though, were a big no. First of all, they were annoying, and Hermione's ears hurt from the constant squeaking. Second of all, it was all just a clever marketing trick on George's part to sell even more of those damned creatures, and Hermione wanted no part in his schemes. But most importantly, they were illegal to breed, and as an esteemed employee of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures—something she liked to remind people of—she could not let such fraudulent activities take place.

No matter how she argued, though, George would not budge. He was adamant about giving away free Pygmy Puffs to every arrival, and that had been grating on Hermione's nerves for the entire morning. Even her own, little, squealing fluffball that now sported red streaks in its fur helped nothing. It just made her scowl that much deeper.

Having arrived with Harry and Ron in tow, she had been at first excited about the shop opening. The three of them went around, greeting hundreds and hundreds of customers, ranging from close friends to complete strangers who really just wanted an autograph from the Golden Trio. There was nothing wrong with that; Hermione had gotten used to the fame her name accompanied. But soon after, Ron had left to search for some food as he chatted with Dean and Seamus, and Harry had decided to talk with Ginny, leaving Hermione alone. Everyone seemed preoccupied with making up with former enemies when she looked around, so she decided to take a breather, sat down on a bench just outside the shop, and gazed at the sky. It was cloudy, but not incredibly so; the weather was quite enjoyable for London in late spring.

She thought it was a nice idea to celebrate something for a change. In the past two years, she had been trying to deal with her own demons with more or less success, but she still felt something was missing to leave the past behind. She had tried to be as active in her personal and professional life as possible to distract from the nightmares and the flashbacks. She had helped rebuild Hogwarts, finished her education with flying colours on her NEWTs, pushed for her SPEW project in the Ministry, and campaigned for a mental health programme for war veterans in St Mungo's, but it was all just a facade of sorts. As much as she hated to admit it, she wasn't fine herself, nor could she truly pretend to be.

But perhaps, she thought, this party would help her.

Parvati sensed an incoming headache as she jogged down Diagon Alley with Padma. She had intended to help out in Skirvish's Savings for the day to get herself some spending money, but when she had received the invitation for the grand reopening of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, she decided to give it a go.

She had been aimless ever since the war had ended. Lavender and her used to have this dream, to open a robe shop where they would offer prophecies with every purchase, but Lavender was gone, and with it went their dream. Since then, she had not been able to find what she really wanted to do with her life; she still lived with her parents, and took to some temporary jobs, not willing to commit to anything. The bond between Padma and her had also weakened, and this upcoming party did not seem to help the mood.

"Are you sure you don't want one? You're going to be the only person not wearing purple today," Parvati asked her twin as the two kept jogging.

She had a box full of purple rosettes she and Lavender had made during the war, for former DA members to wear. It had meant to be a sign of hope, and Parvati thought it would be a nice gesture in her best friend's memory to distribute them now. Perhaps they could make it a day of celebration and remembrance.

"I'm good," Padma replied, barely sparing a glance at the box. Parvati sighed; her sister was always in a sour mood, and her job was not helping. If only Parvati could do something to cheer her up…

"Are you alright? It's not like you to not want to fit in…" she noted, an intense gaze on Padma.

"I'm fine."

She left it at that, seeing how Padma would not answer.

They paced down Diagon Alley in quiet for some time, when they reached Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, right across from where Padma worked. Looking around, Parvati spotted the host of the day, George Weasley, who held a wicker basket.

"Aww, Pygmy Puffs!" she shrieked as she noticed the small fluff balls peering out of George's basket. "Lavender would've liked them."

"Yeah," Padma replied.

Parvati noted how she wasn't in a chatty mood. She recalled how Padma had called the gathering 'utterly untasteful' a couple of days prior, citing how the war was not something to celebrate. Parvati understood that, although she didn't quite agree, and she wasn't in the mood to get in yet another argument over the sentiment.

She was about to bid goodbye to her twin when she noticed Hermione Granger sitting on a bench, just outside the shop. It occurred to her that they had not talked ever since the Battle, and a feeling of guilt descended on her in an instant. There were some things she should have said a long time ago, and yet some other things she wanted to discuss.

There won't be a better opportunity for that, she thought, the decision to corner the brunette already having formed.

"Look, there's Hermione," she said, pointing at the witch on the bench. "I might say hello. Don't forget to join the party after lunch if you can get off, alright?" And with that, she waved to Padma and trotted over to the bench.

She could still feel her twin's eyes boring into her back, a mixture of disappointment and quietly bubbling anger in her gaze, but she tucked the feeling away. She had an important discussion ahead of her.

"Hermione."

Said witch was startled out of her quiet meditation when she heard her name spoken in a soft, familiar voice. She looked up and came face to face with someone she had not expected to talk to ever again: her ex-dormmate Parvati Patil.

"Parvati?" she asked, her chocolate brown eyes widening. "How come you're here?"

"I was invited, and I thought it would be nice to come," Parvati replied, fidgeting with the large box she was holding. "Also, I wanted to talk to you."

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. Why would Parvati want to talk? It wasn't like her to want to have a civil conversation with the likes of Hermione. They were polar opposites on a spectrum of personalities.

"I'm confused," she stated, noting how the annoying little Puff on her lap turned a strange shade of grass green. She'd read somewhere that green signified such emotions. Could those creatures mirror her feelings or something?

"It's just…" Parvati looked to the side, biting her lips. "Actually, can I sit? This box is heavy."

Hermione gestured at the space next to her, inviting her former housemate to sit.

"I'm sorry," Parvati said as soon as she had settled down. "For how we—I mean, Lavender and I—treated you in school. I know, I can't erase it, but, well… I've seen the things you've done since the war, and then I look at myself, and I think… I think it's amazing. I'm not sure where and why things have gone wrong, but I know I wouldn't be able to do the same."

Hermione felt conflicted. It was unlike Parvati to talk about her feelings so openly, especially with her, of all people. She felt grateful that somebody recognised the things she had done, but at the same time, she couldn't take the compliment at face value. After all, she had not dealt with her own inner problems; how could she solve anyone else's?

"Thank you," she muttered after some time, absently stroking the Pygmy Puff that was now a lovely shade of turquoise. "I don't deserve it, though. I… I do things because I think they might help others, but it's not like I could do it without the help of others, and without the friendship of Harry and Ron."

"You do," Parvati insisted. "I mean… Everyone has their own troubles, and most people wouldn't be able to overcome their own grievances to help others out, to campaign for something greater, all those things… With and without help, it's just… It's not something I could do." She let out a forced laugh. "Merlin, I'm nothing without Lavender."

"I'm sorry about her," Hermione said, turning to face Parvati. "You know I never liked her, but she didn't deserve it. Nobody did."

"I know," Parvati muttered. "But it's not the same without her. She was like a sister to me, almost like Padma. We had a dream, you know," she said, taking a breath before continuing. "We wanted to open a shop together. A bit like Fred and George, I suppose, though it wouldn't have been a joke shop, of course. Now that she's gone, though, I can't imagine my future anymore. I can't get myself to do the things you do."

Parvati sighed, and Hermione leaned back on the bench. She had no idea what was going through the other girl's head. She was usually the life of the party, so it was strange to see her so solemn and laid back. Her Pygmy Puff was changing colours again. Hermione could swear it had something to do with her emotions, but she could not tell what. She would have to ask George later, if he was willing to talk with her anyway—not that it would change her mind on how preposterous handing out those Pygmy Puffs was.

"Actually," Parvati perked up, glancing at Hermione, "I've brought something." She gestured at the box. "You weren't in Hogwarts for most of the year, so I'm not sure if you know, but Lavender and I made these rosettes back during our original seventh year. We had meant to distribute them among former DA members, but we couldn't because of the Battle. I thought I'd bring them to the party because some people might recognise it."

"That's actually a wonderful idea." Hermione nodded, and, as if on cue, her Pygmy Puff squealed also. "May I take one?"

Parvati lifted up the box, and Hermione charmed one of the rosettes onto the lapel of her robe.

"I can offer a Pygmy Puff in exchange," Hermione said, holding up the bright yellow fluff ball for Parvati to see. "George has been rather generous with them, but I can't say I appreciate the effort. You'd think he'd be more sensible than to give away illegally bred creatures," she continued with a frown that screamed disapproval.

Parvati gave the Puff a faint smile.

"I think they're cute, and they are harmless anyway. I'd love to take one home," she said. As if on cue, she turned around to the popping sound of Apparition, where a grinning George Weasley stood with a bunch of squeaking Pygmy Puffs scuttering up and down his arms.

"Almost forgot!" he exclaimed. "Here's your free Pygmy Puff!" he plucked one of the creatures off his right shoulder, plopped it down on Parvati's lap, and Disapparated before Parvati could process what was going on. She sat there, stunned, a squeaking, purple-furred little Pygmy Puff sitting on her knees.

"Well," Hermione began. "I guess that's that."

For a few moments, the two girls sat on the bench in silence, contemplating the conversation they had just had. Hermione was surprised, and perhaps a bit confused, about Parvati's outburst, and why of all people, she'd turned to her for emotional closure. Somewhere deep down, though, she could understand. The war had affected everyone, Parvati included, and they all had different ways of coping with the aftershock.

As she looked around, Hermione saw Harry talking with Draco Malfoy; the two seemed amiable enough, which was surprising, but not entirely unwelcome. As she watched the two, her mind wandered back to her Hogwarts days, her strained relationship with her dorm-mates, and how it all seemed so pointless now. Petty teenage feuds, she thought.

She looked up at the sky, where the rain was receding somewhat, giving way to the beginnings of a faint rainbow. It seemed so hopeful.

If Harry could forgive Draco for what he had done in Hogwarts, so could she.

"Hey, Parvati." Hermione tapped the other witch's shoulder. Parvati whipped her head around, stroking the Pygmy Puff that had turned purple, similar to Hermione's own puff, in the meantime. "How about we go around and give out some of these rosettes? It would be nice for people to have a souvenir from this party."

Parvati beamed, nodding eagerly.

"Yeah, that's a good idea."