Chapter Nine

Eavesdropping, House Elves & the Elaborate Feast

Dear Diary,

I must confess, I don't feel like writing much today. Very dreary day ahead, Potions, Care of Magical Creatures, Transfiguration, visiting Padma, staying awake …just want to slide under the covers and hide. The euphoria of winning that Quidditch match has evaporated faster than a puddle under the sun. I am dehydrated inside and out. It's just one of those days.

Later

Curious, Snape hasn't shown up as yet and it's already been ten minutes of class time. Very strange. Am most hungry and sleepy and can't keep my eyes off Harry's hands. Oops, Snape has made his dramatic entrance. Dramatic entrances…that's the only thing we might have in common--

Much Later

I'm much aggrieved to admit that I was caught writing in here and received a week's worth of detention!

I'll explain exactly what took place. So, Snape had just made his sensational entrance, his black robes billowing behind him. I was frantically scribbling my last words in here when Theodore Nott yelled out,

"Potter and Patil are passing notes, Professor,"

Honestly, you can't help but hate that git.

I gritted my teeth. Snape pounced upon me, his greasy clumps of hair falling in a curtain in front of his pale patchy face.

"Really?" he hissed.

I gulped. "We are not passing notes," I answered quietly.

Snape's thick eyebrows pulled together into a frown. "What are you doing, then, Miss Patil?"

I was tempted to shrink back, but being the good actress and liar I was I said, confidently, "Professor, I don't know what you're talking about."

Snape snorted and snatched the diary that was concealed behind the desk.

"Parvati Patil's Diary," he sneered, "Drama Queen, Troubled Teen and loon." He paused for effect. The Slytherins hooted with laughter. I was mortified, catching Lavender's shocked expression few desks away.

I shut my eyes; waiting for my doom. This was the end of scribbling my emotions in here, I thought sadly. I felt like I was about to lose a friend.

"Ooh, read a part, Professor," cooed Pansy Parkinson.

I clenched my teeth, avoiding Harry's inquiring gaze.

"Loon is right, all right," jeered Blaise Zabini.

"Here I thought Potter and Patil were passing love notes, but this better," Theodore Nott spoke, his voice full of savage triumph.

Snape meaningfully flipped through the book, I thought I would burst. His eyes fell upon a bewildered Harry and he smiled menacingly. Had he read the part where I…? I panicked; swiftly I pulled out my wand and yelled.

"Accio diary!" Then, you know me…I couldn't help but add…

"Boilus Corpus!" I shrieked, waving my wand frantically. I caught the diary in the air and Snape hit the ground with a dull thud, boils sprouting all over his face. I grabbed my book bag, humiliated and fled from the dungeons.

I reached the main floor, panting and whimpering.

What had I done to Snape? I was in boiling water all right (no pun intended.) I started running feverishly to the Gryffindor Common Room, but a slender gnarled hand on my shoulder stopped me. "Don't you have class, Miss Patil?" Professor McGonagall questioned, eyeing me severely through her thin-framed glasses. I don't know what happened to me.

I geared into exaggeration mode extra. "Oh, Professor, Professor Snape-he-he--" I sobbed.

"He what?" Professor McGonagall prodded, a concerned look crossing her usually stern features.

"He invaded my privacy…' I weeped pitifully, peering at Professor McGonagall through the corner of my eyes.

Professor McGonagall couldn't resist rolling her eyes. "How?" she questioned dutifully.

"He snatched my diary out of my grasp and--t-t-hen--then he began reading it to the class! Everyone began laughing and they were really cruel!" I exclaimed, colour rising to my cheeks, purposefully childish.

Professor McGonagall's nose twitched as she frowned. "That's not right…but the question what did you do to retaliate, Miss Patil?"

I sighed. This was the hardest part. "Well…I kind of cursed him, Professor."

Professor McGonagall's beady eyes widened.

"What spell?" she asked tensely.

"Boilus Corpus," I informed her miserably. "But I was protecting my inner-most thoughts that were private!" I added hastily.

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips. "Patil, what am I going to do with you?"

I squinted up at her.

"Honestly, Professor, I don't know…" I replied mournfully.

…

So that's how I landed up in detention for a week…with Snape. Knowing him, it will be worse than hell. But wait, there is more to the story…

After that awful ordeal, Professor McGonagall sent me to dry my eyes at the washroom. I was rather disappointed that my impulsive exaggerateo skit didn't work. I entered the washroom and set foot into the stall at the far side.

Suddenly I heard a vexatious, distasteful voice say:

"That is soo funny, Pansy! I wish I were there"

I could swear it belonged to Pansy's potion-stirring playmate, Eve.

'Parvati Patil…Drama Queen, Troubled Teen, Loon!" wheezed the sickening Pansy Parkinson, giggling madly. I nearly gasped with anger.

"She is going to be troubled, alright," Eve hissed and I could almost picture the little she-devil rubbing her hands together.

"Too bad Theodore's plan didn't work last night," replied Pansy, disgruntled.

"You mean too bad that little miss slutty loon has a look-alike," Eve spat.

Pansy giggled nervously. "Just one question, why do you want to get her so much?" Her voice mixed with curiosity and eagerness.

"Because--" Eve answered tensely, "she is a nitwit, that's why."

Pansy laughed and I felt a burning urge to curse them both. Actually, I was shaking with rage, thinking about poor Padma in that hospital bed.

I heard a gush of water, clicking footsteps and a door slam. I breathed in deeply, every nerve in my body tingling. They were out to get me. And the reason--not legitimate. I've been called a nitwit before.

I not very scared of Pansy and that stupid Eve, just confused. How can't anybody like a person like moi? Ok, ok, a lot of people hate people like me, but that is no reason to try to kill them. I have to find out why, though, somehow I think Eve's hate for me goes deeper than nitwit.

Yours,

Parvati

Dear Diary,

Hermione, with hair so curly,

Intelligent brown eyes

Holding onto a hefty book bag,

A badge called S.P.E.W pinned on her sweater,

As she waits,

She thinks,

Brilliance pops into her clever mind,

She ponders,

A plan is outlined,

Detail is added,

Friends are dragged into it,

Exclamations have erupted from mouths,

As Hermione cries…

"Parvati! I have an idea!"

"Why?" I groaned dazedly, resting my hand in a bowl of Hermione's soothing remedy. I had been at Snape's infamous detentions, tortured and taunted all day. Actually, it wasn't as bad. I just had stupid lines. Again.

Hermione's brown eyes sparkled with excitement as she threw her book bag on the ground (very unlike her) and took a seat beside me.

"For S.P.E.W," began Hermione and I couldn't help a wee bit of a grimace appearing on my face. Hermione, completely oblivious, forged ahead.

"I was wondering if we could helped out the elves in the kitchen...you know. I can cook Flafe Concicorte…a really tasty dish… And it would be so much easier for the elves. We could make it a weekend project or something. You wouldn't have to do much, just cook a few Hogwarts dishes or something…" Hermione spoke all of this very fast, but I managed to get the gist of it.

"Hermione, that's nice, but too many cooks spoil the broth. We'd just get in the way of the elves," I said kindly, sounding very much (even to myself) like Padma. Padma--I felt a sudden pang.

Hermione just smiled. "Parvati," she chided, "are you not a good cook?"

I frowned, but the memories of overflowing flour, spilt sugar and me drenched in chocolate syrup still haunted me. "I'm O.K," I lied, not very convincingly. Hermione shook her head slightly, wearing an amused expression on her face.

I pulled my hand out of the soothing substance and dried it with a soft towel nearby.

"Parvati, come on, this is the chance for to expand your mind…" Hermione suggested persuasively.

My eyebrows pulled even closer together, if that was possible. Since when had Hermione Granger, of all people, picked up my annoying antics?

Hmm, then again I always wanted to whip down to the kitchens and nick food….

"Alright then," I replied blandly, performing a vanishing spell on the remaining substance in the bowl.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. I could almost hear the very fast-paced gears in her brain shift. That was way too easy.

Yours,

Parvati

Later

Somehow Hermione roped Lavender into the whole thing and Lavender suggested another idea that could only mean disaster.

"Why don't we have a taste-tester feast? We could serve all the dishes we make! I could invite Seamus and Hermione, Ron, of course and Parvati--"

"Whoa!" I exclaimed. Lav was getting way ahead of herself here.

Hermione, however squealed a Lavender squeal and nodded vigorously. "That be great! We could have it in the common room, even."

I cleared my throat. "Have you asked Dumbledore about interfering in the kitchens?" I asked succinctly. Hermione frowned.

"It is not interfering, Parvati," she began heatedly.

"You're are merely helping, of course," I finished primly. Hermione scowled.

"Dumbledore was all for it."

"I am not surprised," I commented dryly, in a very bad mood.

Lavender clucked. "Who cares? I'm excited--I'm a really good cook."

My eyebrows rose up at this. "Really?" I questioned. Now I didn't know that. Lavender beamed. "Yep," she announced proudly, her golden curls bouncing.

"Anyway, who'd you invite, Parvati?" questioned Lavender suddenly.

I pursed my lips. "I-don't-know," I informed her slowly.

"How about Harry?" inquired Hermione slyly.

I threw a dirty look at her. "No," I muttered and stomped out of the room.

I wandered into the washroom, in a daze. I entered one of the stalls and brooded. What a life I had. Two evil Slytherins are out to get me, Harry only thinks of me as a friend, I'm not good anything, one more detention today…I ran my hand through the etched initials on the green stall walls. LB+ SF 4eva. I smiled a little. Lavender didn't mind expressing her emotions to anyone or anything. Suddenly, I heard the door swing open and two very familiar voices. I stood up straight, my eyes widening. Did Pansy and Eve live in the washroom? I pressed my ear against the stall door, but that wasn't necessary. "Draco is going mad!" fumed the squeaky tone of Eve. My brow furrowed slightly, wondering what Eve was talking about.

"I can't believe he rejected me," Eve gasped huffily.

Even though, I can't stand the sight of smarmy Malfoy, I tittered silently.

Pansy made soothing, clucking noises. "It's ok, Evee. Draco is not in his right mind."

"But I really like him! And he just thinks of me as a little kid," sobbed Eve.

"Well, you are a year younger,' commented Pansy thoughtfully.

"Shut up!" shrieked Eve, and I heard a slam of the stall door next to me. Quickly, I scrambled onto the toilet top and remained perched there so they wouldn't see my legs.

"EEEEEvvvvve!" moaned Pansy, knocking on the door desperately. "I know Draco is the hottest, richest, sexiest guy in Hogwarts…but some girls are just not lucky, like you and I," Pansy cried tactlessly. I was tempted to snigger at her thoughtfulness. A strangled shriek escaped Eve's throat.

"You won't believe the reason though!"

"What?" Pansy immediately yelped.

Even murmured a few undistinguishable words. I strained to listen.

"He likes some one else," wheezed Eve.

"Ookay…"

"A Gryffindor."

"What?" gasped Pansy, appalled. "Who?" she then prodded keenly.

My ears were trained to Eve's answer.

"That nitwit," Eve muttered.

I nearly choked. It was like someone had stuffed a plastic bag down my throat and I couldn't breath. I went into a silent coughing fit, praying that it wasn't true. It couldn't be true. It couldn't…

"Who?" repeated Pansy, cluelessly.

"Patil. Parvati Patil," Eve hissed, her voice shaking with fury.

And I simply shook all over.

Yours,

Parvati

Dear Diary,

Draco Malfoy likes me. Likes me…as in…me Parvati Patil. He like likes me. Sigh. It is no use…however I put it, it doesn't seem right…. I haven't told anyone…it's just too horrible. Well, I'll just try not to think about it. I have plenty to do today anyway. Help the elves is my top priority.

Hermione, Lavender and I made our way through what seemed like many twists and turns and finally approached a painting. Hermione reached out and tickled the pear amongst some other fruit.

"That's brilliant," Lavender exclaimed predictably as the painting opened up. I had to agree as we stepped into the depths of the large, warm kitchen. We were not surrounded by elves as I had expected, but there was one elf gazing at Hermione with adoring eyes.

"Miss Granger, so kind of you to help us," he cooed, his hands clasped tightly.

"Hello, Dobby," Hermione replied in a friendly manner.

I glanced around the kitchen. "Aren't there a lot more elves?' I questioned.

Dobby frowned. "I'm afraid they don't like the fact that you kind students want to help them," he replied, his large tennis-ball eyes bulging.

Hermione sniffed slightly, frowning, then her expression cleared. "Well, we have the whole kitchen to ourselves, then!" she cried cheerfully. Then she bustled over to the sink to wash her hands. Lavender followed suit. I however hung back to ask Dobby:

"Have they gone out?"

Dobby shook his head dubiously. "They're hiding, miss."

I raised my eyebrows. "Somehow Hermione's idea wasn't looking so bright to me. I mean, why barge into the elf territory when they prefer that you don't? Reluctantly, I trudged over to an eager Hermione and Lavender.

Hermione cried something like, "Let's begin cooking!"

Lavender simply whooped.

I couldn't help about groan a bit. What a grumbler I am.

As it turns out, this little experience only proves that I'm an awful cook. In an hour of spending quality time with Dobby, the house elf, I spilt the milk, slipped in it, added the wrong ingredients, mixed the opposite way, misread the recipe for

Flafe Concicorte, made Hermione and Lavender quite exasperated with me. (Quite being an understatement.)

"Maybe, Parvati, you should work out a unique dish…" suggested Hermione, right after I had deflated the cinnamon crust pie.

"By yourself!" added Lavender hastily, twirling her stirring spoon between her fingers.

So, I was sentenced to a solitary corner, left with only packs of unwanted soup and useless oddities. I watched enviously as Lavender proudly set her millionth dish on the counter. Lavender wasn't just a good cook; she was a superb cook. As of Hermione…she was a great pie specialist and no one could forget her Flafe Concicorte…. I… had nothing.

Suddenly thinking quickly, I poured the contents of the packet into a pan and began my masterpiece.

Ten ingenious, sweaty moments later I was finished. My only dish…it was mouth-watering.

"Ready?" I cried.

Lavender and Hermione looked weary. Ignoring them I unveiled my tasty concoction.

"It's blue…." Hermione gasped.

"…Soup…" finished Lavender, equally stunned.

I spooned some and Hermione gingerly took it and poured down her throat.

She came up choking, her eyes watering, and a sour expression on her face.

"Isn't it great?"

"Just great!" choked Hermione.

Later, it was decided that my soup would be used as a trick on the boys at the 'taste-tester feast'. I must say I felt quite honored.

"So, Parvati, who are you going to invite?' chirped Lavender, pointing her wand at the kitchen counter.

"Scourgify!"

"What?" I asked dazedly, emptying my dish into a large bowl.

"To our party…remember?' Lavender said.

I shrugged. "No one, I suppose." I was actually dreading the feast because I knew I would feel like a fifth-wheel, hidden in boot, without anyone noticing.

Lavender frowned for a second, but then burst into a smile. "Okay," she conceded surprising me.

Yours,

Parvati

The Taste-Tester Feast

Parvati's Report

Aha…the day of feasting, fun and a furious Parvati! You'll never believe what that Lavender did to me! She invited Harry separately, so it's like we're being pushed together.

"Lavender!" I hissed, catching a glimpse of Harry sitting on the couch beside Seamus, Hermione and Ron. Lavender did what she did best--she giggled.

"I thought you'd be glad…it looks like you like him…." Seeing my blank expression, Lavender hurriedly continued, "A lot…I mean you should see how you stare at him."

My mouth dropped open. "I do not!" I snapped angrily, childishly.

Lavender smirked. "Maybe you don't want him there because you know it would invoke your emooo---shun!" Lavender tittered.

It was possible, my jaw dropped down further. "You're all lies, Lav!" I cried, shaking.

Lavender smiled at my crumbling exterior, fluffing up her goldilocks.

I glanced at the lean, skinny boy who had captured my heart, suddenly feeling utterly stupid and oddly sad.

Lavender watched me looking and patted my shoulder. "It's alright, Par. I think he likes you too."

My heart soared with hope; I wobbled over to the other four who were chatting easily. "H-hey…" I murmured. They greeted me warmly.

Harry looked at me oddly. "Are you okay, Parvati?" he questioned.

I nodded, unable to take my eyes off him. He was just so unlike me…yet he was just so right for me. I couldn't explain it.

"Why don't we start?" Hermione asked, very flushed and pretty. She gestured toward a table she had magicked laden with our meal for the evening. The warm glow of the candles illuminated our faces and created a cozy feeling. Not waiting any longer I took my seat across from Harry, beside Lavender, my heart beating rapidly. During the dinner (no one liked my soup--surprise, surprise) it was like I was in a trance. I felt nothing like myself. My eyes were glued on Harry Potter. A couple of times, I tried to blink, but my eyes wouldn't co-operate. The cutlery clanked and our glasses clinked. I still stared. Seamus and Lavender hugged. I stared. Ron and Hermione kissed. I still stared. I shoveled some treacle tart into my mouth and kept on staring.

Suddenly I noticed Hermione and Harry whispering. I averted my gaze and glanced at my failed cooking attempt--blue soup.

"Really?' Hermione was exclaiming. Harry was blushing. I trained my ears at them. "I always thought Luna liked Ron…."

I almost choked on my soup.

"Luna Lovegood!" I burst out, unable to control myself.

Harry stared blankly back at me; it was the first time he had looked directly back at me that evening.

"She just asked me to go to Hogosmeade with her and I accepted…" muttered Harry in a low voice, keeping his gaze on Hermione's Flafe Concicorte.

I threw down my napkin on the table and was about to leave when Harry whispered what I had said a few weeks before at the ball.

"Is something wrong…?"

He was watching me carefully. I shook my head, feeling quite dizzy. "No-no…Luna is just weird and slightly loony that's all…' I replied, miserable, angry and most of all guilty. Luna didn't know that I liked Harry, except this evening it had gone beyond liking…beyond anything I had ever experienced.

Harry's eyebrow knit together in a frown. Seamus had stopped to watch in mid-bite. Hermione looked worried, Ron curious and Lavender disappointed. The air was still; no one knew what was going on, but nobody was confused. Tension and guilt clung above as all.

"Don't say that!" Harry said rigidly.

I nodded vigorously. "Oh yeah, yeah, yeah…" I mumbled and stumbled out from the common room, tears streaming down my face, my hand pressed against my bleeding heart.

Now it might seem weird that I am so upset, but no one will understand what happened with Harry and I before the Luna thing came up. I don't think I will even understand.

Yours,

Parvati