word count: 408
Parvati sits atop the Astronomy Tower, feet dangling. Thunder rolls, and lightning illuminates the dark, cloudy sky. Once, she would have been afraid of such bad weather, but she's grown past that. Padma, on the other hand…
Her twin makes a face as she joins Parvati. Padma has never cared for stormy weather, always regarding it with nothing short of disgust, as if the thunderstorm somehow personally offended her. "You couldn't have met me somewhere less…?" She lets the sentence dangle, gesturing absently.
Parvati shrugs. They may be twins, but they aren't very similar. Parvati thinks they've been different as long as she can remember. Maybe, once upon a time, years ago, she and Padma were somewhat alike, but those days have long since passed. She thinks the more time they spend apart at Hogwarts, the more different they become. One day they may end up as total strangers.
One day, but not today.
"What's wrong?" Padma sits beside her, lifting a cup. "I brought coffee."
"My hero," Parvati says with a laugh as she accepts the cup. Padma's solution to everything has always been coffee. Parvati prefers tea, but she's grateful for the robust aroma and the warmth it brings. "I'm worried."
"You're not alone."
No, she isn't. Parvati knows there's been such great unrest since Dumbledore's death. It only seems to grow worse. The Carrows have ruined Hogwarts, and there is no escaping now.
"It scares me," Parvati admits, and she hates it.
Isn't she a Gryffindor? That should mean something. These days, though, she doesn't feel particularly strange.
"Me too. For all my talent, I'm useless," Padma sighs.
"Don't say that."
Padma is the furthest thing from useless in her eyes. She's always been so brilliant, so sure. There's no way Parvati could ever look at her twin and think of her as useless. She's too good for that.
With a soft smile, Padma squeezes her hand. "You make me want to be better. And I will be." She lets out another sigh, one that is far too heavy and pained, the sort of sound that is more fitting of an ancient soul and not a seventeen year old girl. "We're going to get through this."
Truth be told, Parvati doesn't believe her. Not really. Not fully. But maybe, for now, she can hold onto that hope. After all, what's left for them to do except to surrender? And Parvati has never been a quitter.