A/N: I do not own the rights to any of J.K. Rowling’s characters and places, including but not limited to Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Draco Malfoy, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, etc., etc. I am fully aware that the rights to these names and other belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers alone.

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Being a twin is hard. Really, really hard. Especially when your twin looks exactly like you and is named Padma Patil, and she’s like your other half.

Let me start from the beginning. Padma and I used to be really close, even bought the same clothes and wore the same outfits every day so we looked perfectly alike. She was my best friend; she knew (most of) my secrets and never told them to anyone, we knew what each other was thinking day and night, and we went everywhere together. But then everything changed. It started when I was sorted into Gryffindor and Padma was sorted into Ravenclaw. Not only do Ravenclaws and Gryffindors rarely have classes together, Gryffindors do not know where the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room is, and vice versa. So Padma and I could barely see each other…

We grew further and further apart. I made friends with Lavender, who is almost as good of a friend as Padma was. Padma ended up making friends with all these smart people because, after all, Ravenclaw is the house for people like that. When it came time to get back on the Hogwarts Express and come home, my twin and I had barely spoken to each other for the whole year. We had never had a real conversation, just things like ‘hi’ and ‘what’s new’ as we passed each other in the halls.

But that summer is what really did it. I, longing for my sister back, expected to spend night after night the first couple of weeks catching up with Padma and her life, and she with me and my life, and then go through our second year with a way to keep in contact that we had come up with. It turned out to be almost the complete opposite. Padma literally avoided me all summer. She was mostly in her room, writing letters to all the friends she had made, reading books they had recommended, receiving and sending little gifts and witty comments and editorials and things they had written. If she talked to me at all, it was all about her and her friends. Sometimes, trying to get to Padma, my twin, through Padma, the genius Ravenclaw, I’d ask her for help with an essay or doing a crossword puzzle or something of the sort. Every attempt ended up with her storming out of my room, fuming mad, screaming her head off about how stupid I was.

After that summer, I haven’t even tried to be Padma’s friend. Sure, I say hello if I see her in the halls, and sometimes we have a decent conversation over dinner when we’re at our house, but mainly I’m on my own. Without my other half. And I’m doing fine, but I still wish that Padma was still my sister and twin in more than just name. Because it hurts, being ignored, living in the same house with someone who used to be your friend, looking at yourself and wondering what went wrong. And knowing that she doesn’t know what I feel, and as far as I can tell doesn’t miss me a bit.

I used to Parvati Patil, Padma Patil’s twin. That was centuries ago. Now I’m just Parvati Patil. Parvati Patil, trying to live without her other half.