Two long Sentences & two dirty Handkerchiefs
A loud snap of fingers ripped Parvati out of her thoughts, and shortly afterwards she heard the stern voice of Severus Snape. "Good!"
He paced up and down in front of her with his arms folded. Parvati sat on a stool in his office and waited humbly for the detention he was about to slap on her. Or had he already done it and she had somehow not noticed?
Crap, I wasn't listening! Parvati shook her head, which felt all woozy and numb. My God, what was in that butterbeer yesterday!
"You will help me in the lab twice a week in future," Snape told her now. "Tuesdays and Thursdays at eight o'clock! I have plenty of whelks and other delicacies ready for you there!"
Parvati winced. "Twice a week?" she gasped.
"Is that perhaps a problem for you?" asked Snape sardonically; it sounded almost angry. He stopped jerkily in front of Parvati and looked down at her with a hard stare—out of eyes that were, in stark contrast to that, strangely reddened, as if he had cut affodill roots and forgotten the Eye Protection Charm.
What is going on here?, Parvati asked herself, plucking at her lower lip in confusion. Why is he so mad? What have I done wrong, anyway? "Until when?" she finally asked wanly. "I mean, how many weeks do you want me to come, Professor?"
"We shall see," Snape replied. "There's plenty to do for the next few months! Hopefully that will give you better ideas than getting unrestrainedly drunk and then running through the corridors, singing, at three in the morning!"
Parvati went up bolt upright. Please, what have I done? And he catched me?
She grabbed her head. How embarrassing is that? And why am I finding out about this only now? She rose from her chair with wobbly legs.
"Stay seated, Miss Patil," Snape barked at her. "I have a little something for you today, too!" Hectically, he pulled open a drawer in his desk and finally plonked an incredibly long piece of parchment and a quill in front of her. "'I will keep a clear head and focus only on school'! Five hundred times!"
"What?" exclaimed Parvati.
"'I will keep a clear head and concentrate only on school'! Five—hundred—times!" repeated Snape gruffly, then turned to go. "Now will you get started, or are you going to sit here until midnight?"
He gave her another look, which seemed very strange to Parvati, then disappeared into his flat, slamming the door, leaving her sitting alone in the office.
Dazed, Parvati stared for a moment at the door through which he had rushed off. What kind of film was that? She shook her head in bewilderment and, still slightly dizzy, let her eyes wander over the rows of shelves on the walls, which were vanishing somewhere in the back of the elongated room; where there was no more candlelight and it seemed to be as dark as inside herself …
A loud growl from her stomach finally reminded her that she would starve to death if she stared into space any longer and didn't finally start this stupid detention. Sighing, she propped her chin in her hand and wrote: "I'll keep a clear head and just concentrate on school."
How ridiculous!, she thought. I guess, he couldn't think of a longer sentence! And five hundred times, he must be nuts! Just for running through the corridors, singing—oh man, why don't I know about it?
Parvati chewed thoughtfully on the quill, which did not belong to her at all, and tried frantically to remember the previous night, the following day. Why was everything so blurred? Why were all the last days so diffuse in her memory? Am I perhaps getting sick?, she thought.
So sick that you don't even remember running around in the corridor at night?, she asked herself immediately afterwards. You've never had such a huge mental blackout before …
At least she now had a reasonably clear head again. She just felt infinitely tired.
Shaking her head, Parvati wrote her next sentence on the parchment. He must be so mad! The last time he made me do such mindless crap was in fourth grade! Well, better than whelks. Grinning weakly, she wrote another sentence. I should hurry up. Maybe I'll make it for dinner then …
She yawned. God, I'm exhausted. Yet I slept half the day away … that's what I did, right?
Yes, she could vaguely remember dozing off over her homework all the time. Still, her eyelids were like lead … and she had only ten sentences on the parchment. Parvati yawned so hard her jaw cracked. Man, this is really not working!
She folded her arms on the table and rested her forehead on them. I'll just close my eyes for a moment, she thought. Be back in a moment. Hopefully he won't come in now …
She woke up when Severus shook her roughly by the shoulder and boomed out, "Such impudence never came my way! How dare you!"
Parvati started up and knocked over the inkpot. "Oh, I'm sorry, sir!" She set the pot upright and quickly cleaned the table and her fingers magically.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" sneered Severus, taking a step back. "Go on, leave!" he said abruptly.
"What?" asked Parvati, confused. "But, Professor … I'm not even—"
"I said get out," Snape said in a very low voice, his eyes flickering in a way that Parvati really got frightened. Then he slammed his fist down on the table with all his might and shouted at her, "Get the hell out of my sight! Get out of my sight!"
Parvati jumped up in shock. What has got into him? She almost tripped over her feet, in her hurry to get to the door. Without turning around again, she pushed down the damned stiff handle and fled into the corridor.
Of course, she had missed dinner. It was already half past nine, as a glance at her watch confirmed, and her stomach was making sounds like a full-grown predator by now. So she made a little detour to the kitchen to satisfy her greatest hunger.
On her way back, she ran into none other than her sister, who was patrolling the corridor with Anthony Goldstein. "Hello, who do we have there?" Padma asked drawling and immediately began to lecture: "Miss Patil, it is forbidden to be outside the living quarters after nine o'clock—"
"How about a nice fat detention then?" asked Parvati with a sneer, giving her sister a contemptuous look.
Padma winced clearly visible. "Parvati?" she asked in a completely changed voice. "Tell me, are you all right?"
"Everything is awesome, why?" returned Parvati. "I'm fine!"
"Well, I can see that," Padma said doubtfully. "Now where did you come from anyway?"
"From the kitchen," Parvati said truthfully. "I'm sorry I was hungry!"
"Because you're not going to dinner," Padma countered. "Where were you earlier?"
"I wasn't hungry then!" snapped Parvati. "Listen, Padma. Give me a punishment now or don't. But spare me this would-be cross-examination, will you?"
"Okay, punishment," Anthony now let himself be heard and stretched pompously.
Padma stared at him from the side in surprise.
"You write fifty times, 'I have no business outside my living area after nine o'clock'!"
"Anthony, now leave it," Padma hissed, but the Ravenclaw Prefect seemed to take his responsibility quite seriously. "You can come right along!"
"Now leave her alone, she's not well!", Padma snapped at him.
"I don't see it that way," Anthony said arrogantly. "I just see that she is your sister! Will you please come with me?" he turned to Parvati.
"Anthony!"
"It's all right," said Parvati. "If it makes him happy …"
"A hundred times!", Anthony puffed himself up.
"Go on," Padma murmured, looking at Parvati almost pleadingly. "I'm afraid I can't do anything, I'm sorry …"
Shrugging, Parvati followed the Ravenclaw into an empty classroom, where she scribbled the hundred sentences on a crumpled piece of parchment under his supervision. She somehow didn't care about anything. Today seemed to be a day of sentences, the culmination after a week how it had never seemed bleaker to Parvati.
What's wrong with me? she thought as she produced one blob after another with the half-broken quill. Why do I still feel so funny? Belated shock because Snape freaked out like that? A shiver ran down Parvati's spine at the fresh memory of his eyes flashing with anger, his lips pressed together as he had thrown her out in such a violent manner. What on earth was that all about? Could it really have upset him so much that I fell asleep over his witty sentence?
Parvati dismissed the idea. Nuts, he's happy to have something to complain about … and of course, he's now blocking my DA appointment on Thursday—as if he knew! The thought of negotiating another day of the week with Snape for the upcoming large-scale whelk-killing only elicited a weary smile from her. As aggressive as he was at the moment, he would probably jump right down her throat. Besides, she knew his attitude as well as anyone: a detention left the most lasting impression if it spoiled as much as possible and one was, on top of it all, almost dying of hunger.
Well … after all, he gave me the perfect excuse not to have to go to the Ravenclaw seminar on Tuesdays without Padma being offended!, she thought maliciously. I was fed up with those arrogant cows anyway …
But at that moment, she remembered her sister's wide eyes when this pathetic wretch of a prefect next to her thought he had to demonstrate his position of power on Parvati without restraint.
She was really sorry. I'm sure she would never have given me such a ridiculous detention. I wonder if we can still make up before our birthday?
Finally, she was done and handed the tract to Anthony, who had been lounging around, reading, on a bench diagonally behind Parvati. "Well, it could be nicer," he commented with the corners of his mouth turned down.
Fuck you, thought Parvati. "I'm sorry, the quill didn't work properly. And yet, I wrote it a hundred times!" she said, as nicely as she could. She had really had enough of writing down stupid sentences for today!
Anthony had an understanding, and Parvati was able to return to her dormitory, where Lavender and Hermione were already waiting for her. They sat together on Lavender's bed, a sight that made Parvati's jaw drop.
"Gee, where have you been?" cried Lavender. "It's after eleven. You said you were just going to the library!"
Was that what I wanted?, Parvati wondered. "I was," she said.
"Yes, and then?" asked Hermione, adding in a slightly pointed tone, "We were a wee bit worried!"
What do I tell now?, Parvati thought tiredly, but then she darkly remembered what she had decided only four days ago. I don't have the nerve to think of anything anyway …
And finally she came clean. "Well, I was still with Snape … detention!" said Parvati drawling, and Lavender's eyes widened.
"What for?" she blurted out.
"He claims he met me in the corridor at three in the morning. Drunk as a skunk!"
"Excuse me?" exclaimed Hermione, and Lavender gasped. "Well, you've had quite a drink," she then giggled. "But we went to bed at one! I honestly didn't think you'd get up once again!"
"Did you have a date?" asked Hermione with a small grin.
Parvati shook her head. "I can't even remember! Though I didn't have that much at all … What's in a butterbeer, honestly?"
"Not much, that's right," Hermione said. "Tell me, are you sleepwalking?"
"Not that I know of!"
"But you were awake at three," Lavender recalled. "I thought you were just having a bad dream though!"
Parvati grabbed her head. "I don't know nothing," she muttered. "Nothing—at—all. And for that, I have to kill whelks twice a week now!"
"Whelks? Twice a week?" echoed Lavender, stunned.
"Oh my God, again!" exclaimed Hermione. "That sadist!"
Parvati just shrugged. "He really seems to need someone to do the dirty work for him. He said it could take months!"
"Gosh, you poor thing," Lavender said sympathetically, but there was also jealousy in her voice. Parvati could imagine that her friend would have loved to be in her place. "But twice a week!" Lavender couldn't contain herself at all. "And indefinitely! You must have been out of line pretty badly!"
"Well, as long as she hasn't declared her love to him!" remarked Hermione exuberantly, but immediately came to her senses with a little sideways glance at Lavender.
Parvati, on the other hand, took a startled breath, blood rushing to her cheeks. For the first time since she had been confronted with her lapse in Snape's office, she wondered how embarrassing she had been acting during that nightly encounter with Severus. I probably talked the absolute bollocks … or did I really hit on him …? And that's why he was so pissed off? Oh, no …
"Parvati, it was a joke!" declared Hermione with a laugh. "As they say, 'In vino veritas'!"
"Yeah, sure," Parvati murmured weakly, trying to ignore the cutting glance Lavender gave her.
"Come on, girls!" said Hermione resolutely. "Let's go to bed! Parvati, you look really worn out!"
"Did you two get along?" asked Parvati in a lowered voice when Hermione had disappeared into the bathroom.
Lavender shrugged. "Well, we actually just spent hours talking about where you might be …getting along would be too much to say." But she clearly looked pleased.
Although Parvati had been afflicted with this leaden tiredness all day, she now found no sleep. With her eyes closed, she listened to the regular breathing of Hermione and Lavender and tried to listen to herself. As she did so, she repeatedly wondered what might have been in that beer—was that where that strange numb feeling in her chest came from? That made her want to cry unrestrainedly, even though she had no tears? And that vague tingling in her abdomen … because I was with Severus?, Parvati thought and couldn't help thinking of his eyes again when he had given free rein to his anger. He had really scared her. Again she was overcome by a hot flush, and she swallowed hard. Even if I had offended him—since when had he been so … uncontrolled? Totally out of character …
But then she remembered that Snape had been unusually irritable for weeks. His nastiness was as much a part of him as his long black hair, but this stressed behaviour was new. The conversation at Dumbledore's ten days ago … he'd been yelling at me like that, too! And really only at me … what did I do to him anyway? Lavender, on the other hand, he devoured with his eyes … constantly looking at her—and he hugged her!
Parvati felt a violent pang; ever since it had happened, she had this image in her head all the time, and it tormented her.
And what came after the conversation? Parvati tossed restlessly from side to side as she racked her brain for more clues. I hardly saw him for almost a week, only occasionally at dinner … Yes, and then at some point, he caught me at the piano—did he freak out like that, too? No, definitely not … what was his detention, actually?
It took a while for Parvati to come up with the answer, and she grimaced in the dark: Well, of course, slice up snails—how novel …
And then … it became more and more blurred in Parvati's mind. It sometimes happened that she could hardly remember an uneventful week. But this felt different. Maybe she was getting sick after all … or was it her heartache?
I don't get it!, she thought in frustration, wishing she could just cry out all her pain. But where her tears usually sat, there was just a yawning hole, and she felt numb. Dead, somehow.
The only region of her body that stirred at all was the hot throbbing spot between her legs. What a mockery! Fucking hormones! Parvati turned to the wall, growling, and tried with all her might to ignore what could only be another completely sick after-effect of too much butterbeer and two detentions in one day.
But the strange desire inside her would not rest. And at some point, her hands found their way there as if by themselves. Parvati rarely touched herself—Lavender did it much more often and even gave information about it willingly—but today there was something inside her that vigorously demanded its right. And which she did not understand in the least. After only a few moments, she came, twitching and with her lips pressed together, and when she ran her hand over it afterwards, more by chance than anything else, she came again, gasping.
Oh! I hope no one heard that … Parvati lay frozen for a moment, listening to the darkness, then shrugged and turned back to the wall—and still couldn't sleep.
It didn't stay with the two climaxes. They were just the prelude to a long series of orgasms that burned like fire but tasted staler every time. The way there became more laborious and more painful each time, but she just couldn't stop. Finally, she fell asleep from exhaustion.
Parvati's strange condition continued. She went through her days as if remote-controlled; went to classes, ate what was put on the table—although not much—talked when asked and did her homework. But the hole inside her remained; something was missing, and she reacted to everything around her with a strange numbness and leaden eyelids. Nothing was really getting through to her. When Hermione read an article about the disappearance of three Muggles without a trace at breakfast on Monday in a loud, shaky voice, Parvati continued to slurp her hot coffee, unmoved—only by the concerned expressions on the faces of her classmates did she realise that something was wrong.
Parvati met Anthony Goldstein's sneering face as she entered the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom with sullen indifference, as well as the unannounced test that Professor Ashley confronted his students with a short while later, causing Lavender to groan muffledly beside her. For the next twenty minutes, she kept trying to copy from Parvati—who unfortunately didn't know much more than her friend—until Professor Ashley finally snatched the test paper from under her fingers with a sharp "Accio!".
And Parvati didn't care a cent about the "Outstanding" she received in the afternoon from a bad-tempered Snape for her finished "Healing potion against feverish cold with aching limbs"—as did Lavender, by the way.
When Severus read out Lavender's note in an indifferent voice and without looking up—right after Susan Bones' "Acceptable"—Draco raised his head and eyed the beaming girl from the side, with an expression on his face that Parvati had never noticed on him before. No silly line, no nasty laughter—without that sardonic grin that was usually integral part of his face, the Slytherin looked almost peaceful.
Is he ill? That's not normal …, Parvati thought, and the next moment, she remembered that Draco had actually been absent from class last Friday. Maybe he's not really well yet. I hardly think he's suddenly happy with Lavender about her grade! Or maybe he just doesn't want to attract negative attention now, so he can strike even harder at the Quidditch match on Saturday …
Millicent Bulstrode, who was sitting in front of Parvati, also received an "Outstanding". In response, she rammed her elbow into the side of Pansy Parkinson beside her and clapped her hands in jubilation, whereupon Snape merely twisted one corner of his mouth in derision; Draco, on the other hand, turned to the girls and held up a thumb. For a moment, his gaze crossed directly with Parvati's, and his smoky grey eyes managed to trigger something in her for the first time that day—though nothing more than nausea.
Restlessly, she slid around on her chair and chided herself: Sure I'm feeling sick! I just drink way too much coffee! Maybe that's my whole problem …
Oh, nonsense!, she answered herself immediately afterwards. She still vividly remembered her condition during the time of the OWL exams, when she had poured a pot of coffee into herself every day, and neglected her meals at the same time. There had been no sign of inner numbness, melancholy or an sublimial craving for alcohol back then. On the contrary …
What's going on?, Parvati asked herself for the hundredth time since that strangely vague weekend. Why am I so indifferent towards everything but not really indifferent? Why does it suddenly feel so … bleak when I look at Severus? The shock of his outburst was still in her bones. Parvati couldn't remember a person ever freaking out like that around her—certainly not a teacher. And certainly not Snape! Is he really mad at me? He doesn't even look at me when he reads out my grade!
Gloomily, she averted her eyes from her teacher's shock of black hair. Am I getting depressed or what? Because it can never work out with him? Do I still want this at all?
Parvati knew nothing anymore, no matter how critically she tried to illuminate her feelings—everything was different somehow, and that was getting her down. The dull, rainy autumn weather added to her strange low mood. Several times she made a half-hearted attempt to write about all this in her diary—so far it had always helped when she wanted to sort out her thoughts—but she gave up each time before she even opened it. It would hurt too much … that she knew for sure.
The detention with Severus began. Tuesday at eight o'clock, Parvati stood with him in the laboratory and let herself be instructed by his rasping voice, in which he managed to stare consistently past or over her. Then he immediately disappeared into his office, leaving her alone with a giant box full of whelks, the distillation apparatus and that emptiness in her chest.
She worked late into the night because it took forever to distil so much snail extract at once. At just before twelve, she staggered into his office and placed the four flasks with the separated fractions on his desk. "Good work, Miss Patil," Snape judged after briefly eyeing the contents of the flasks. "You may go then. Here on Thursday, same time!"
"Good night, Professor Snape," Parvati said and turned to go.
Severus looked up briefly, and something blazed in his dark eyes that Parvati could not name. But it touched her strangely, and something in her seemed to thaw, to beat gently as if with gossamer wings. Finally. "Good night, Miss Patil."
Throughout the next morning's Potions lesson, which consisted of nothing but tricky theory, Parvati discreetly sought his gaze—but Severus Snape only seemed to notice her—as he did everyone else—when she raised her hand, only to pick her in a neutral tone. And there was nothing in his gaze of what had kept her from sleeping half the night and finally haunted her through her dreams—no blaze … nothing. Maybe she had imagined it after all.
Just as I probably imagined everything that relates to him, Parvati thought bitterly. How could I ever believe anything else? This man is old enough to be my father! And what's a few glances? If that really mattered, he'd have to see something in Lavender all the more!
Purse-lipped, she glanced over at her friend who, as always, was sitting at her usual place next to the blackboard, following every little movement Severus made while lecturing as if spellbound, letting his sonorous voice give her goose bumps after goose bumps and dutifully taking notes. At least, he never shouted at her—no, he prefers to hug her! Once again, a stab of jealousy went through her when she saw it razor-sharp in front of her: Lavender's head against his chest, his long fingers in her hair …
I wonder if he's enjoying this little game somehow, Parvati asked herself causticly. After all the boring years he has already spent at Hogwarts … and who knows if we are even the first!
Her eyes widened involuntarily at this completely new thought and she stared at the teacher in front of her as if seeing him for the first time. Except for us, everyone thinks he's hideous—supposedly! And what about before, when he was younger? Desperately, Parvati bit the tip of her quill. If only one could judge him a little better! But the best thing would be for me to finally leave him alone, then I certainly won't need such embarrassing piss-ups as I had the other day … and once again she involuntarily asked herself what kind of stuff she had pulled off after she had run straight into her teacher's arms in this unfortunate state. And perhaps he is also already very familiar with adolescent lip service, unexpected hugs and similar things …
Parvati's cheeks began to tingle and she quickly called herself to order again. Girl, you don't care! You don't need to be confused at all by that wannabe Casanova over there!
This supposed fact, however, turned into the opposite a short time later when the wannabe Casanova turned his head briefly to Lavender for no apparent reason and exchanged another of those damned glances with her. Ohh! Four seconds! Why?
"Are you all right?" asked Hermione with a soft laugh beside her, and Parvati realised embarrassedly that she had unconsciously held her breath and clenched her hands into fists in her lap. Slowly she exhaled and wiped her damp palms on her trousers.
"It's really dull today," it came sympathetically from Hermione, yet that didn't stop her from continuing to scribble along almost every word Snape uttered, in her typical, almost steno-like manner. "But we'll be released in five minutes!"
Parvati nodded with a forced grin. Stay calm, she said slowly to herself, while mechanically reaching for her quill and quickly making some alibi notes. Don't get paranoid right away! Who's to say those looks aren't totally meaningless, too? Snape and Lavender—how absurd!
But still, Parvati could hardly wait to finally get out of the dungeon that blocked out any sunlight that could drive away the inner cold; to no longer have to see Severus, who caused this cold.
Her head was finally in chaos now, and she was getting really tired of being constantly confused and depressed about a man who was unattainable for her anyway and would probably always remain so. And whose displayed indifference already was freezing the wings of yesterday's shy butterflies in her chest.
When the lesson was over, she left the room with her lips pressed together, without looking at her teacher again. And tomorrow evening yet again, she thought. Severus Snape four times a week, not counting meals—how will I ever get back to some semblance of normality?
But is it really only because of him that you are feeling so bad at the moment?, another voice in her head said, and Parvati could only shrug her shoulders helplessly.
The afternoon's double lesson in Divination offered a soothing change—Parvati's eyes relaxed at the mere sight of Firenze. Light blond hair that shone in the sun, bright blue eyes, gentle features—the exact opposite of Severus Snape. And while she listened to the lovely centaur voice, leaning against a thick tree, the scent of dry autumn leaves in her nose, her thoughts slowly brightened as well.
When she wanted to leave the room with Lavender and the others after the lesson, Firenze held her back briefly. "You are not very well, Miss Patil," he stated soberly when they were alone in the large forest room.
Parvati stared at him in surprise. "How did you—" she began.
"Your aura," Firenze said softly, eyeing the girl with his big blue eyes. "Your aura is full of tears."
"My aura?" Parvati started to laugh, but at the same time something cold, almost déjà vu-like breathed on her. Confused, she scratched her head but couldn't get the grin off her face.
Professor Trelawney had often spoken in class about things like auras and chakras, describing those of her students with passion in the most brilliant colours and shapes, until Parvati was sick to death of it. It had never occurred to her that her present teacher, who was a good deal more rational, might also be involved in this branch of divination. Was there perhaps some truth in it after all?
Firenze nodded gravely. "It looks like you are missing something, Miss Patil."
Yes, I have that feeling too, thought Parvati, and looked at Firenze, waiting. Silence reigned for a moment, only the slight rustling of the birch tree above their heads could be heard as a magically created breeze passed through the small leaves. The centaur returned her gaze, but made no effort to be more specific.
Finally, Parvati asked hoarsely, "And what would you suggest I do to retrieve it?"
"Don't look for it," Firenze said, shaking his head slightly so that his long blond hair danced around his face. "Sometimes in life you have to be able to let go. Fill in the tears with other, new things. Then it may even be that the long-lost ones come back to you …"
That's easy for him to say, Parvati thought, as she climbed up the sun-drenched staircase to the Gryffindor Tower shortly afterwards. A few well-founded hints wouldn't have hurt either!
But basically, it left a warm feeling in Parvati that Firenze had asked her about her state of mind. As far as she could remember, no teacher had ever done that—not even her House teacher—although she had probably been a picture of misery often enough in the first class because of her longing for Padma.
And there was no denying that she felt a lot better than she had in the morning. Parvati knew that she was still a long way from being able to unadornedly write down the whole confused mess of feelings on parchment and deal with them—but perhaps she didn't have to …
If she was to believe Firenze, it was not a matter of ripping herself apart, but of doing something she liked—a daily practice session on the piano, for example? It would certainly benefit her mood if she achieved something in this area at least. She could take care of the rest later …
Parvati decided to put this idea into action—quickly, before this unseasonably fine weather changed and the cold, paralysing gloom crept back in on her. So she made only a brief detour to the dormitory to fetch the three music books her parents had sent her, and then went straight on to the seventh floor, where the covered grand piano was already staring at her in its customary filth.
It must have been the slanting autumn sun that made the dirt disgust her even more than usual. At least, it got Parvati, who sometimes took cleaning rather lightly, finally to wave her wand.
With a few Scouring Charms, she removed dust, cobwebs and other indefinable blotches from the unappealing cover over the piano, which had certainly been stuck in the cracks for decades; the piano itself also shone in its former, pitch-black splendour after a further Scourgify. Then, using all her knowledge of Transfiguration, she transformed the simple chair she had been using to play into an elongated piano stool that could comfortably seat two people, following the example of the Beethoven bench that stood in front of the abandoned piano at her parents' home.
Satisfied, Parvati looked at her work—McGonagall would be proud of me!—then she settled down on the velvet-covered cushion in front of the piano; today she would finally venture to play the other pieces from the book of preludes, as well as a few waltzes.
She began to play softly; the Prelude by Chopin, which she knew by heart note for note, just as she knew every square inch of the face that became irrevocably associated with this music for her. The piece was short, but she could play it again and again without getting bored; just as she never became tired of looking at him—Severus …
And after a while, the familiar harmonies did what she had secretly wished for. She could cry.
It announced itself slowly, rising hot and tingling inside her, burning behind her eyelids. Parvati let the last bars fade away and pressed her cold hands to her cheeks - through a veil of tears she stared at the ornate music stand in front of her and let out the whimpering sobs that had been locked deep inside her for days and were now concentrating painfully in her throat. The tears she had so longed for ran down her face in liberating trickles, gathered at her chin, ran down her collar and seeped into the fabric of her black trousers. And slowly she felt the numb lump in her chest, which she had barely noticed, grow smaller. Finally.
When it was over, Parvati took her hands off her face, brushed back her hair and took a deep breath. She just sat there for a while, enjoying the feeling inside her that could almost be described as lively. A liveliness that was supposed to be normal …
Then practicality took over again—she used her wand mirror to take stock of her swollen face, then reached into her robe pocket in search of a tissue to wipe away her black tear stains.
When her fingers hit something soft, she paused; shortly afterwards, she brought two crumpled handkerchiefs to light that she had never seen before in her life. "What are they doing in my bag?" muttered Parvati, slightly disgusted. She hated handkerchiefs and so every year she brought herself a large pack of paper tissues from home, the kind used largely in the Muggle world. So there was no way they could have come from her. Was Lavender playing a little joke? Or am I wearing her robe?
Hastily, Parvati looked down at herself; in her momentary absent-mindedness, she trusted herself with all sorts of things, but she could quickly convince herself, by looking at the buttons, that it hadn't come to that yet.
Relieved, she fished out a pack of Muggle tissues from her other pocket and blew her nose. Then she turned back to her unexpected find, which she had placed on the music stand in front of her. So, how did those get into my robe? That one really looks like someone snotted all their make-up into it … yum yum!
Parvati was about to try out the newly learnt Vanishing spell on these things, but then she thought better of it. I can't do that. Maybe they're valuable … there's even a monogram embroidered on them. "E.P.?" she whispered to herself as she took a closer look at the pale pink initials and the corner that was lined in fine stitches. "No clue …"
Maybe Lavender's grandmother or something? With pointed fingers, Parvati lifted the cleaner handkerchief to her nose—perhaps she recognised her friend's scent. She sniffed cautiously, but what faintly rose to her nose had nothing to do with Lavender. Transfigured, Parvati sat motionless for a few moments, the handkerchief to her nose, breathing in a scent that triggered strange sensations in her; but she could not make sense of it—just as she could no longer make sense of many things …
Now you're doing it again, a resolute voice inside her warned. And you were just feeling a little better!
With an almost imperceptible jerk, Parvati came to her senses and, shrugging, let the handkerchiefs disappear back into the depths of her robe pocket. She could deal with them later. Now it was time for her self-prescribed relaxation therapy …
Determined, she placed Chopin's Preludes on the music stand in front of her and opened the booklet. She had to play a few pieces until she found one that was simple and cheerful enough for her taste. And that's what we'll practise now, she ordered herself. No more depressive thoughts!
And pretty awkwardly, with a concentrated expression, Parvati began to plonk the notes for the right hand to herself, until they slowly turned into something like a melody …
Now and then, when she was absorbed in her play, she thought she heard a rustling behind her, several times a soft breathing. Peeves? One could always count on that annoying poltergeist …
But then when she then jerked around in her chair, there was nothing—nothing but the familiar junk on the wall behind her and dust particles dancing in the sun.