Padma checked the grubby piece of parchment for the last time as she arrived at last. Number Twelve, Number Twelve… She spotted it at last, lurking between two Muggle houses. Funny, I was sure that wasn't there a second ago. Feeling apprehension rising in her once more, she hovered at the gate, trying to formulate a rational plan. She wasn't like those Gryffindors, rushing blindly in under the banner of supposed bravery. No, she would have an idea of what she was doing before she went in.
"Hi Parvati, up already?" called a cheerful voice. Cursing silently, Padma turned around, a fake smile struggling to stay on her face.
"Hermione. How nice to see you," she replied through gritted teeth.
"What happened to your robes?" The bushy-haired nuisance was walking her up the path towards her.
"I — I spilt something on them and had to change," she invented, mind spinning faster than a Billywig.
"Well, come inside out of this rain, anyway," Hermione continued, holding the door open for her. Padma's eyes widened at the sight of the serpentine doorknocker; for a wild second, she thought the Dark Lord had sent a spy to ensure she completed her task. The eyeless sockets focused her mind. Find some information of use to the Dark Lord and then get out.
Hermione put her finger to her lips as she stepped into the gloomy hall. The dinginess of the place took Padma aback; she had expected a much classier location for the Order. This reminded her all too much of what her home had become. She followed Hermione silently downstairs.
It was much more cheerful here. A fire danced in the hearth, driving away the lingering damp and cold, and the furniture had a comfortably used look about it. The ceiling was lower, adding to the intimate, confiding atmosphere. A dark-haired boy sat at the worn table, deep in conversation with another familiar face. Both looked up as she and Hermione entered the kitchen.
"Hello Hermione, Parvati," nodded Professor Lupin. Padma could hardly believe her eyes. So this was where he had gone after he disappeared from Hogwarts. He had been one of her favourite teachers; she had refused to believe at first that he was a werewolf.
Harry stood up, shaking his black hair from his face. Padma's breath caught a little. You're over him, well and truly, remember? she scolded herself.
"Hermione, I think we've made a breakthrough!" he declared, excitement evident in his voice. Padma leaned forward eagerly, her dark hair slipping over her shoulder. "Lupin is certain he has located the orphanage that Tom Riddle grew up in. There's a good chance Voldemort hid a Horcrux there."
Hermione gasped, although Padma couldn't see why. What was a Horcrux? It was clearly important, anyway, and hopefully of value to the Dark Lord.
"That does make sense," Hermione said slowly. "After all, we know he likes to hide them in places of importance to him in some way. But which one do you think it is? The cup, maybe?"
"No idea." Harry frowned, green eyes narrowing. "We'll soon find out. I'm going over there next week."
"We'll have to research some good spells," Hermione declared briskly. "I was thinking of …"
Padma had heard enough. Muttering a quick excuse, she slipped out of the kitchen and made her way softly through the hall. She heaved the heavy door open, hardly daring to breathe for fear she attract the attention of another Order member. Every second she remained there increased in the risk of discovery.
At last she was out in the morning air. She took a deep breath, feeling the icy tendrils needle through her lungs. She had completed her mission. She would live another day.
Heart soaring, she hurried to a shadowy alley and Disapparated.
"You tricked me, Padma." Parvati's tear-stained face looked at her with accusing eyes. "You betrayed all of us! How could you? Because of you, we're dead." The face faded a little, still echoing, "Dead". The eyes flashed red and hissed, "Well done, faithful servant." The Dark Lord smiled at her, but he wasn't the Dark Lord, he was a Dementor come to take what was left of her soul! It extended a bony rotting hand and poked her hard on the arm.
Padma awoke with a jolt. Her eyes darted about, looking for evidence that it had all been a dream. A sharp jab in her arm sent a jolt of terror through her, and she pulled herself upright.
"Patil?" Draco's pale face stared back at her. Rubbing her arm, she swung her legs off the side of the couch. She hadn't intended to sleep, but the long, emotionally harrowing night had taken its toll. She felt marginally more refreshed now, although her neck was killing her.
"What—" She yawned, feeling her jaw was about to crack, "what do you want?"
Draco shook his head. "I was just told to wake you up."
Padma stretched and looked around. Grey light dimly illuminated the dingy aspects of the kitchen. She pulled herself up from the old couch in the corner, its ancient buckled springs creaking and groaning.
Draco stood at the dusty window, his back deliberately turned to her. Padma busied herself in getting something to eat, as it was now approaching midday. She hummed tunelessly to herself, surprised at this happiness such as she hadn't felt in years.
"You never did answer my question," she ventured a few minutes later. "How long have you been here?" Draco turned around and attempted to silence her with a look, but she met his gaze unblinkingly. She hadn't realised how much she had missed conversations with somebody whose interests ran beyond the latest fashion in robes. Her time in Hogwarts already seemed so long ago. Was it really only last year? she wondered incredulously.
He gave up eventually. "Since the start of the summer, something like that," he muttered.
"Doing what?" she asked, a little surprised at her own audacity.
He turned on her angrily. "What do you think? I'm not exactly the Dark Lord's favourite, unlike some. Just because you got some information he didn't know about doesn't mean you'll stay in his good books forever! I failed, and I now I'm expendable. Why do you think I'm the one who always answers the door? It's in case there's an attack, so my death will give the others time to get away."
His lip curled in a sneer as he saw her stunned face.
"Not all silk pyjamas, is it?"
"I never expected it to be," Padma said stiffly, recovering her composure and marching out of the room. Once in the hall, she glanced at her watch, and was pleased to see it was almost time.
The Dark Lord had been highly satisfied with her undercover work. So satisfied, in fact, that he had set her a new task.
She could only wonder what it might be.
A/N: Thanks for all your reviews! Christina, unfortunately I can't answer your question. That bit was part of the prompt I was given (something along the lines of 'now you have to prove yourself'... cue dissolving room). Much as I hate to leave things unexplained, I'm afraid we'll just have to say that it was just another example of Voldemort's powers.