A little bit of Practise
At eight o'clock sharp, Lavender arrived on the seventh floor in front of the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy—fitted out with bananas and condoms—and paced up and down the opposite part of the wall three times. This procedure was very familiar to her from the days of Dumbledore's Army; just yesterday she had used it for the last time. But today she had to wish for something completely different.
And what's that supposed to be?, she pondered. Actually, she had already lost half her desire to practise and had a bad feeling in her stomach. Parvati's admonishing words were constantly ringing in her ears, and she was somehow getting more and more angry with Ron. Who does he think he is? As if he can afford to juggle with women like that!, she grumbled.
Then the door appeared in the wall and she quickly pushed down the handle and entered the room, where the next moment she was completely struck by the colour pink. The fluffy carpet was pink, the wallpaper was light pink with dark pink hearts, the wide bed that took up half the room was covered in pastel pink and filled with stuffed animals of all kinds, and sitting on a huge pink plush sofa was Ron, whose hair colour contrasted so strongly with the neon pink cushions behind him that Lavender's eyes hurt. To make matters worse, seemingly out of nowhere, came soft smoochy saxophone music that Lavender didn't like at all.
That can't be true! she thought, horrified. Did I wish for this? Or does Ron have such nasty taste?
"Hi, Lavender," Ron greeted her shyly. "I hope you like it … I thought you liked pink …"
This just gets better and better! "Do I look like it?" asked Lavender with raised eyebrows, taking off her robe, under which she wore a long black skirt and a light blue T-shirt. Then she stood around in the room indecisively. Do I sit with Ron on the sofa or rather on the bed so that it looks as if I can't wait any longer?
"Why don't you sit down," Ron urged her, tapping the spot next to him invitingly. Lavender complied with his request, sinking down onto the synthetic cushion next to him; however, she left a little space between herself and Ron. Did he have to ask for a polyester couch? she thought inwardly, rolling her eyes as her hands felt the uncomfortably crackling fabric. My hair will completely stand on end in two minutes!
Only now did her eyes consciously fall on the table, on which there were two wine glasses and a bottle of nettle wine. Besides, Ron had also thought of his exercise material. "Great minds think alike," Lavender giggled and put her utensils next to them.
Ron's face coloured in complete harmony with the sofa cover and he quickly lifted the bottle. "Wine?" he asked.
"Yes, please!" Lavender held out her glass to him and Ron poured her some wine, then himself. "What are we drinking to?" he asked hoarsely, raising his glass. Lavender saw a vein throbbing at the side of his neck. Boy, now take it easy, she thought. This is so awkward here. "Here's to a good practice, right?" she said, giggling again. That music in the background was just too hilarious.
They clinked glasses, Ron looking deeply into her eyes, then sipped their wine. "It's good," Lavender said appreciatively.
"From the kitchen," Ron said with a grin. Then he glanced quickly to the side and turned the glass in his hands sheepishly.
Oh man, he's so uptight, Lavender thought. This is never going to work. Maybe it would be better that way … But backing out now is not an option!
And so she did what she was really good at: Babbling and giggling and in between drinking her wine, which was far too sweet, but still delicious. Ron opened up a little and they managed to get back to their relaxed relationship of the last few weeks, where it had been no problem at all to talk about everything and anything. She wisely broached the subject of Quidditch, something Ron could talk endlessly about, and slowly, he calmed down and ventured forth into riskier territory: "Did you actually have a fight with Hermione?"
You're funny, Lavender thought. "Nope, why?" she said harmlessly.
"Because all she does is snap at you," Ron replied. "Everyone notices that."
What do you want to hear now, she thought. That we're fighting over Ronni, the super-sunnyboy? "She's just snapping at you, too," Lavender returned. "Did you two have a fight?"
Ron shook his head. "I don't know what's wrong with her," he said guilelessly. "She's always quite normal with Harry."
"Harry's a nice boy, after all," Lavender remarked in a drawling voice.
"He's getting on better with Parvati, too, isn't he?" said Ron.
"Oh, you think so?" asked Lavender, still trying to maintain her harmless tone. But the very next moment, she had to grin. That damned wine!
"What's there to laugh about?" asked Ron teasingly. "Does she want something from him?"
"Why, does he want something from her?" asked Lavender back.
"Je ne sais pas!" Ron played dumb in a terrible French.
"Tell me," Lavender urged and poked a finger into Ron's side, whereupon he jumped to the side, laughing. And as if he had only been waiting for this signal, he began to tickle Lavender, who shrieked and wriggled in his arms and finally begged for mercy.
"I'll only stop if you tell me if she wants anything from Harry!" announced Ron.
"Je ne sais pas!" panted Lavender, and Ron continued.
"Stop it already!" Lavender gasped.
Ron paused for a moment. "Only if you tell me why you're in Snape's class!"
Lavender winced. Oh Ron, you're a real killjoy, she thought resignedly and straightened up. During the scuffle, her hair had been completely electrically charged on the sofa cover and each was now horizontally sticking up her head, a few of them just starting to lay across her face like little creepers. Great! I knew it!
Annoyed, she tried to regain control of her hair, which was making menacingly cracking noises, while Ron continued to dig his index finger into her ribs and asked, "So, are you going to tell me?"
"You heard it," she panted, "valid reasons and all that. That should be enough!"
"You can tell me," Ron cajoled.
"Nope!"
"Then you must kiss me!"
"Nope!" said Lavender, but after another tickle attack, she conceded defeat. After all, that was exactly why she was here. So she allowed Ron to place a hot hand on the back of her neck and slowly approach her lips with his mouth half open. Her heart began to beat wildly, and when his lips were placed on hers, it briefly flashed through her like lightning from top to toe.
But this beautiful moment was quickly over when Ron, without much introduction, pushed his tongue into her mouth and sent it out there for a wild exploration. Lavender suddenly sat stock-still and held her breath in shock. Oh God! What is this! she thought in panic as Ron set his tongue into a rotating motion that reminded Lavender distantly of a washing machine in spin cycle. And about as much liquid was at work here.
No! That's impossible, Lavender thought, stunned. And how am I supposed to keep breathing now, please? Oh no! Help! Stop it!
She made a strangled sound and braced her hands against his chest. Ron, who somehow misunderstood the gesture, wrapped his arms around Lavender and pulled her towards him, his tongue suddenly seeming to swell to twice its volume.
I—can't—breathe! Lavender began to wriggle in his embrace and struggled so violently until even Ron caught on and they broke away from each other with a smacking sound.
Breathing heavily, they stared at each other. Ron's mouth was full of Lavender's lipstick and half her face felt so wet it was as if a dog had licked it. Plus, she had electrostatically charged up herself completely on that damn plastic furniture again; individual hairs flew in her face and stuck to her damp cheeks. And still that lift music in the background. It was enough to hit the roof.
"What's wrong?" asked Ron, and he was indeed panting—at least it seemed that way to Lavender. "You didn't like it?"
Oh God, how I'm gonna get out of this one?, Lavender thought as she vigorously smoothed her crackling hair, discreetly running her wrist over her chin and lips. "Sorry," she said finally. "But I feel—so funny. I don't think I can cope with my wine!"
"Now what?" asked Ron, looking at her appraisingly. "You wanna leave, right?"
"Right!" Lavender jumped up. "I—rather should … my usual surroundings—you know?" Desperately, she realised that she really was feeling sick now. I mustn't puke!, she thought. Not now, and not here!
Panic-stricken, she grabbed her robe and rushed to the door without another word, getting such a violent eletric shock at the handle that sparks flew and tears welled up in her eyes.
Lavender fled into the corridor and rushed to the stairwell, her hand pressed over her mouth. She barely made it down one flight of stairs before sending her meagre dinner over the banister in a gush. After that, she abruptly felt better. She spared herself the Scouring Charm; she didn't know what damage she would cause with it anyway, and in what unfathomable depths the unsavoury effect of her exercise lesson had landed in the first place.
For God's sake, what have I just done, she thought, rather disillusioned, as she descended the rest of the stairs at a more moderate pace. That was an absolute horror! How are we ever going to look each other in the eye again? Oh, Parvati was so right …
Briskly, the lower half of her face inconspicuously covered with one hand, she crossed the well-filled common room and finally hesitantly entered her dormitory, hoping it was empty.
SMACK! Her left cheek literally exploded in pain, and the next moment Lavender found herself face to face with a raging Hermione.
"Ouch! Are you crazy?" Lavender held her cheek and stared at her adversary in disbelief.
"Well?" cried Hermione, her face flushed. "Was it fun?"
How does she know that? Lavender thought, stunned. "What, pray tell, do you mean? Is the bathroom too dirty for you again, or what?"
"I told you to keep your hands off Ron!" Hermione clawed her hands into Lavender's shoulders and shook her so hard her teeth chattered together. "And what are you doing, you miserable little slut? Getting him all hot and bothered just so you can finally get somebody—" Again she lashed out and slapped Lavender in the face with all her might before she could duck.
Tears welled up in Lavender's eyes again. She tried to shake the angry Hermione off her, but to no avail. "Now leave me alone!" she gasped. She just wanted to go to the bathroom, wash off this whole last failed lesson and then forget about it as quickly as possible.
Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Urgh, you smell like vomit," she remarked in disgust.
"Yeah, because it was just mega-awful!" confirmed Lavender. "So you can save yourself all the excitement!"
"So you really did it," Hermione stated in a low voice, filled with disgust. "And then you still dare to make fun of him, after using him for your rotten purposes?" She shouted the last words again.
At last, Lavender managed to tear herself away. "Hermione, he's not any better," she tried to explain to her upset roommate. "And if you only knew how crappy a kisser he is—"
The next blow hit Lavender in the side of the eye, and for a moment she saw only stars.
"You know what?" Hermione's breath went whistling with anger. "Maybe he just didn't put that much effort into you, did he?! Or do you maybe think you deserve better than a crappy kiss?"
This remark and the intense pain made Lavender snap. "And you? Do you think you're better somehow?" she screamed out. She lunged at Hermione, who was caught completely off guard and went down with Lavender, and immediately the girls were engaged in a fierce brawl in which nothing was left out. They tore each other's hair out, punched, pinched, spat and bit.
"Stop it!" they suddenly heard Parvati's voice commandingly behind them. Great, finally you're coming, too!, Lavender thought, but she continued to scratch Hermione's face with her long nails as if out of her mind. All the frustration of the last few days, the many pointed remarks and meaningful glances from Hermione, which were always aimed at her weak points, came back to her, made her blood boil.
"Stop it!" cried Parvati. "Have you gone completely mad!"
But both were deaf to Parvati's appeal. Like two mad cats, they had clawed at each other and were rolling over the floor, snarling and letting out muffled sobs.
Finally, Parvati courageously intervened by wrapping her arms around Lavender's hips and trying to pull her away from Hermione. But Lavender didn't want to know anything about that either.
"Petrificus Totalus!" Hermione suddenly stiffened like a board under Lavender's hands and lay stretched out and completely motionless on the floor in front of her. Only her eyes stared in utter horror at Lavender, who rose, flabbergasted, her knees weak. "Was that you?" she asked Parvati.
"Go to the bathroom!" hissed Parvati. "Well, get a move on!" She pushed Lavender into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. She heard Parvati quietly apologise to Hermione. Obviously she had taken the curse off her right away, and a moment later she also came into the bathroom, where Lavender was already waiting for her with the toothbrush in her mouth.
"Whereishe cow?" she wanted to know.
"To the Hospital Wing," Parvati said with a reproving look. "What have you done to her face anyway?!"
Lavender shrugged. "She shtarted it!"
"And you're already brushing teeth," Parvati remarked. "Must have been really bad!"
Lavender spat out the toothpaste, rinsed her mouth and washed her face thoroughly. "Bad is not an expression at all!" she said as she applied her moisturiser. She turned to Parvati. "Remember when Draco cursed us in the Fourth and we puked slugs?"
"Yes," Parvati said questioningly.
Lavender screwed up her face. "That's exactly how it was. Only in the other direction!"
"What?" asked Parvati uncomprehendingly, and Lavender rolled her eyes. "Well, the kiss!"
"One can really feel sorry for you," Parvati said in a cool voice. "I'd say that's what you get now!" But Lavender saw the corners of her mouth twitch.
"I feel sorry for everyone who has to do this on a regular basis," she said, disgusted. "I've had enough of kissing for now! Parvati, he slobbered all over me like a dog!"
"Yuck!" Parvati could no longer hold back her giggles. "I hope he hasn't completely corrupted you for manhood now!"
"Do you think it's still worth giving it a chance?" Lavender asked mischievously, applying lip care to her lips. "I can't actually imagine Severus being such a lousy kisser …"
"Speaking of which, the latest news from Snape!" Parvati's eyes flashed. "Imagine, when he was walking under the moving stairs earlier, they say someone … vomitted onto his head!"
"WHAAAT?" Lavender plopped down on the toilet seat and started laughing helplessly. "And I thought today couldn't get any worse!"
"No!" Parvati stared at her friend. "Now don't tell me it was you! Was it really that bad?"
The girls screamed with laughter until they got side stitches and tears ran down their faces.
Thank God, she's not mad anymore, Lavender thought. For that alone, this nasty end to the evening was worth it.
And she decided, after everything had revolved around her lately, to be a bit more attentive to Parvati's needs in the future. She was always so quiet and depressed at the moment …
From now on, Lavender and Ron's friendship was history. Whenever the two of them crossed paths, Ron's expression closed and he stared past Lavender, or better still, through her, as if she were air.
Likewise, Lavender and Hermione ignored each other, even the pointed remarks from Hermione's side were absent. She had been given an ointment in the Hospital Wing by Madame Pomfrey that made her deep scratches heal within half a day, but that was also the only thing that could be quickly removed. Otherwise, hatred was now the order of the day between the two girls. And to Ron, Hermione didn't speak a word either.
"Everybody ignores everybody," Harry once said to Parvati at breakfast with a wry grin.
"Really a stupid situation," nodded Parvati, who was making herself a jam toast. "You can hardly do anything together any more!"
"And it's no better at Quidditch!" added Harry. "Ron actually refused to catch the ball Lavender threw at the goal the other day!"
Parvati raised the coffee pot and looked questioningly at Harry. When he nodded, she poured him a cup, then herself. "Now I'd like to know what Ron was thinking about, after all," she said, confident that she could get Harry talking again.
And she was not disappointed. "Provoke Hermione," he said promptly. "I told you, it was obvious!"
"Yeah, he succeeded!" Parvati shook her head in disbelief, then asked lurkingly, "Did he finally make sure she found out about the date himself?"
"Well, he didn't exactly make a secret of it," Harry said hesitatingly. "At least the boys all knew …"
"Great! Then the old show-off has achieved his goal! At least he'll never get Hermione that way!"
"No, I don't think so either," Harry agreed.
"And the forgotten birthday wasn't exactly great either," Parvati added. "Did he at least give her a belated present?"
Harry shook his head and Parvati raised an eyebrow meaningfully. "He puts his foot in it whenever there's a chance!"
"And you?" protested Harry. "You've forgotten it yourselves!"
"You, too!", Parvati shot back. "And you used to remind us every time! What was the matter? We could have had a wonderful party at the observatory—instead you weren't even there!"
Harry lowered his head. "I was ill," he mumbled and bit into his peanut butter roll.
Again Parvati raised her eyebrows. "So. He was ill," she remarked wryly, involuntarily imitating Snape's tone. "Highly interesting. Or perhaps he also was on a … date?"
Harry let out a snort that sent crumbs flying across the table. He quickly covered his mouth with his hand. "Now I'm sure you're going to tell me who with," he chortled.
"How about Ginny?" asked Parvati sweetly, watching with interest as Harry's cheeks slowly turned a fine blush. "Hey, I didn't have a date, okay?" he said quickly. "I was really in bed—alone!"
"It's okay, I'm not your chaperone," Parvati giggled. "I can only hope that things go better for you than they did for Ron!"
That brought them back to the subject, and Harry gratefully pounced on it. "You know, he's quite crestfallen," he confided to Parvati. "Because it's not that he thought Lavender was awful … quite the opposite!"
"I guess we all assumed that," Parvati said dryly.
"And the fact that she just ran off has … really hurt him. He wonders all the time if he did something wrong!"
"Why don't you ask him what kind of cheap booze he offered to Lavender," Parvati retorted. "She was sick to her stomach!"
"Oh, she was sick? Ron didn't tell me that … well, that's not gone well," Harry said thoughtfully. "And otherwise?" he then wanted to know. "What was Lavender thinking? Does she want something from him or not?"
"No," said Parvati. "She just wanted to play a bit, just like Ron. But now she's quite sorry about the whole thing, also because of Hermione. She didn't really realise how Hermione felt about Ron."
In doing so, she made Ron out to be the bad guy, but that was only fine with her. After all, it had been him who had stalked Lavender and trampled on Hermione's feelings without any consideration.
Satisfied, she reached for her coffee cup and took a big sip, while Harry let out a deep sigh: "At least the three of them don't talk to each other any more. It's going to be fun at the DA next time! Don't want them to sling any nasty curses at each other!" He reached into the bread basket and fished out a new roll.
"Maybe we should put the whole thing on hold for now!" suggested Parvati hesitantly. "We certainly can't work together like this!" Hardly anyone cared anyway, she thought to herself. Not even Padma came last Thursday!
Harry paused in his movement and shook his head vigorously. "But we have to work together," he said quietly, looking urgently at Parvati with his green eyes. "You know, this competition between houses sucks enough. But if this keeps up, we'll soon have everyone hating everyone! We'll never defeat Voldemort like this!" Angrily, he plunged the knife into his roll and cut it open with a grim face.
Parvati flinched so violently that the toast fell out of her hand and landed on her trousers—face down, of course.
"I'm sorry," Harry said contritely.
"It's okay," Parvati murmured. But the good mood of just now was blown away and a cold breeze seemed to sweep over her. Around them, the noise from the four house tables went on unabated, and in the midst of this cosy, sunlit breakfast atmosphere, the very thought of this evil out there just seemed grotesque.
But it was there. Just a few days ago she had been confronted with it again in all clarity. And what about Harry? Was there even a day in his life when he didn't think about this despicable monster?
"Parvati, you yourself had the idea to go ahead with the DA," she heard Harry's voice again, just audible through the rest of the clamour of voices. "And even if Hermione and Lavender won't go because of Ron—please, you come at least!"
"Yes, Harry," she whispered back as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. "You're right. I'll be there."
Until now, the entire Gryffindor class had often done things together in the afternoon, such as lying by the lake or going to Hogsmeade. But that was over now. Harry stayed with Ron, Parvati with Lavender, and Hermione, as usual, buried herself in her books and was hardly to be seen.
Whenever Parvati could spare time, she would sneak up to the seventh floor, where the piano was waiting for her under its thick dusty cover cloth, and practise the piece by Chopin. It was a rather melancholy-sounding prelude that made Parvati think of rainy afternoons in spring and tall deciduous trees. Slowly, she remembered the left-hand accompaniment, and each time, she played it a little more confidently.
On Monday, she went to the Owlery, and sent a letter to her parents asking them to send her the whole music book. She had really acquired a taste for it. If Padma knew, she thought, and it filled her with a grim satisfaction to keep her little secret to herself. She didn't even tell Lavender where she kept disappearing to. The fear of being misunderstood or being called stupid was just too great.
On Tuesday, she dutifully went to the seminar, although she really wondered what sense it still made. Padma still only talked to her about what was necessary, and she hadn't thought it necessary to go to the DA either. Probably Parvati just wanted to stay on the safe side. No one should be able to say that she didn't try.
Today, Hannah Abbott from Hufflepuff was talking; her cheeks were bright red with excitement and she could barely manage a proper sentence.
It was hardly bearable, and Parvati forbade herself to drum her fingers on the table merely out of pity. She even asked the first question afterwards, just to make Hannah feel better.
"Whose turn is it next?" asked Lisa at the end of the seminar, and her eyes fell on Parvati. "How about you?"
Parvati winced. Actually, I have always wished for this, she thought confusedly. But not like this … "And what do you want me to talk about?" she asked in a hoarse voice.
"You can choose the topic," Mandy said. "You've seen how it goes with us the last few times!"
After the seminar, Parvati took her sister aside and spoke to her about their coming birthday in three weeks.
"So you really think we should celebrate?" asked Padma, raising her finely plucked eyebrows. "You don't have to do this out of a sense of duty, you know."
That was when Parvati had had enough. "Do you know what will happen if I'm not running after you all the time?"
"No, but I'm sure you'll tell me in a minute," Padma said, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
"Nothing!" hissed Parvati. "Nothing happens! I don't understand you … we got along so well during the holidays! And now you are jeopardising our relationship because for some reason you think you're too special!" she burst out. "What's your problem anyway?"
Now Padma looked directly at her with her velvet-black eyes, and Parvati had the uncanny feeling, as often happens between twins, that she was looking into a mirror. "That you are dishonest and don't know what you want at all!" declared Padma straightforwardly. "And I don't like your dealings either!"
Parvati gasped for breath. "You mean Lavender?" she said softly. "My best friend?"
"Who is totally childish, gets on everybody's nerves and has been acting like a whore lately!" said Padma harshly.
"With whom I can talk about everything, who makes me laugh and always stands by me, even when I do something wrong! And she would never put me under pressure like you are doing right now!" Parvati added, and again the twins stared relentlessly into each other's eyes.
"Well, that's all said and done then," Padma said wryly and turned to leave. Parvati stared incredulously after her sister, who strutted away in a bolt upright posture. When she had almost reached the staircase, Parvati shouted, "Besides, she is very brave and doesn't keep trying to be something she isn't! And before I forget: She is tolerant, if that is even a concept to you!"
Padma did not turn around any more.
Parvati stood alone at the door to the Ancient Runes classroom, hot tears gathering in her eyes. What does she want from me, she thought. Have I ever said anything against her arrogant friends?
Trembling with rage, she waved her wand and the school uniform she had put on especially for this stupid seminar changed into a flowing black dress with long, flared sleeves. Then, almost without thinking about it, she began the ascent to the seventh floor. She didn't normally wander around the castle at this time of day, but the conversation with her sister had so worn her out that she didn't care if anyone caught her.
By now, she had a good condition, breathing barely faster when she had reached her destination. Parvati put down her bag, unravelled with a gruff movement the neat plait she had witched for the seminar, and shook her dark hair with relief, which tickled her bare shoulders.
Then she peeled the grand piano out of its dirty cover, folded back the piano lid and let her trembling fingers glide over the cool keys. By now, she could play her piece almost flawlessly. The sad minor tones made her think of her garden at home, of the big rustling birch trees under which she had often played badminton with Padma. Back then, when they had been inseparable and two of a kind …
Parvati had tears running down her face. And what has become of us? she asked herself. In the holidays, it was almost like before. Why doesn't it work at Hogwarts? Is it really Lavender? Everything was fine at home. There were only two of us …
But suddenly, she remembered that they had almost always only talked about Padma; about her faith, her ideas about the future, even about family planning. And how meticulously she had already planned things out …
Parvati, on the other hand, felt almost inferior. Never in her life would she have come out with her childish passion for the Potions master. Slacked off at school, no real interests … so she preferred to keep her mouth shut right away and simply enjoyed her sister's presence as long as she had her to herself.
Parvati had finished the piece, and since she could only do the one, she immediately started again, resolving to play it even more expressively.
But what kind of relationship is it if I can never show her my true face? Parvati continued her reflections, while her fingers found the harmonies as if by themselves. She just doesn't know anything about me, but thinks she can pass judgement on everything.
But I still shouldn't have lied to her … I'm really scared of her in parts. Just like I hardly ever tell Lavender anything for fear of stupid remarks. How silly is that?
She had reached the point in the piece where the volume and melodic line reached their peak, and she put all her sadness and anger into it. In doing so, she decided not to fool anyone in the future. Whoever can't accept me is out of luck!
And as the last bars faded away quietly, she breathed a little easier. I'll tell Lavender about the piano later, she said to herself as she closed the lid over the keys and stood up to cover the piano again.
As she did so, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye that took her breath away. With a small scream, Parvati whirled around and stared in shock at the door, which was wide open.
There, standing motionless in his black robe, was Severus Snape.