In detention, Parvati and Hermione were bottling rat droppings, which they had to put into castor oil for a project of Snape’s. Snape looked at the disgust on their faces, grimly pleased. “I can’t see why you are complaining,” he said smugly, “I did not ask you to collect the droppings yourselves, you simply scoop them up with the silver scoop, and transfer them to the bottle. If you wish, you may use the funnel.” Parvati had a sudden vision of Snape on hands and knees collecting rat droppings, and would have laughed if she had not been so scared of Snape. Hermione on the other hand, said clearly and bravely “Who did collect the rat droppings Sir?”
Snape smiled evilly. “Since you are so interested Ms. Granger, I asked a couple of house elves. You may join them next time if you wish. “ or do you think it would make you, perhaps Spew?” He allowed the corners of his lips to lift slightly, which only actually served to increase the feeling of malevolence he exuded. He carried on before Hermione, who looked a little like a volcano about to explode could in fact do so. “I expect all the bottles to be filled by nine o’clock. I need them then. I suggest you start now.” He waited a minute, but Hermione had struggled to get herself under control, and did not give him any excuse to take more points from Gryffindor. Disappointed, he turned on his heel, and swirled out of the dungeon.
Parvati looked across at Hermione. “I don’t know what happened to put Snape in a good mood, but that was his twisted version of kidding, Hermione,” she said kindly and unnecessarily, since Hermione was well aware of the fact. “I sincerely doubt he asked the house elves. They avoid him like a Mountain Troll. He wouldn’t have been able to get near one.” Hermione made a noise that sounded like “Doh!” but she walked towards the barrel of droppings, before the smell made her step back. “Here,” she said shortly, and called a two pairs of plastic gloves and masks for them both from Snape’s private cupboard. “Least he could have done,” she muttered, handing some to Parvati. The stench coming from the barrel made the masks necessary. Parvati sighed. “I’ll do the droppings, if you do the oil Hermione,” she said. The girls began work, and a second later, Parvati laughed. “Hermione, these aren’t rat droppings! They are Tarskein seeds! Wow, Snape was really on form. Handing out detentions like sweets and cracking jokes! I wonder what got into him? I have never known him like that before.”
Hermione looked over at the barrel of seeds suspiciously, but did not come near enough to look properly. “They look gross to me and smelly to me,” she said, “How do you know?”
“Trust me,” Parvati grinned. “I took Double Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology, instead of Arithmancy and whatever other brainy subjects you are doing. Plus I had a summer job at a Pet Healers this year. We got a lot of rats. Rat droppings are sort of pointed at the end instead of…..”
“Ewwwww! That was more information than I needed to know!” Hermione complained, marvelling that Parvati of all people would know anything about rat droppings. “Lets talk of something else.”
Parvati was nothing loath, but she really didn’t expect Hermione to be communicative. However, if you didn’t ask, you didn’t learn. “OK. Why is Ron so different?” she asked.
Hermione sighed, discouraged. “Well, it was all to do with the Department of Mysteries. I am not sure how much I can tell you.”
“You mean when Ron got covered in brains?” asked Parvati knowledgably, her eyes widening with curiosity. Hermione stared at her, and Parvati shrugged. “Well, news gets around you know, and he has all those scars over his forearms.”
Hermione bit her lip, but her need to confide in somebody was obvious. She was known for not gossiping much, so Parvati was actually quite surprised when she started speaking.
“Well, both Ron and Harry have had a really bad summer. Firstly, Harry lost someone dear to him and thinks it is his fault, and Ron got hit by a couple of curses at the Ministry. Harry finally started speaking to us again “ mostly because we wouldn’t give up nagging him over the summer, and Mrs. Weasley helped a lot - but he has changed. He is much more bitter.
Ron keeps saying,” here her voice got a bit choked up, “that he was no bloody use, but you know Parvati, he was! Ron keeps saying he let us all down. He even dragged up our second year, and how he couldn’t help Harry with the Basilisk! But he got stuck behind a great pile of rocks! What did he think he was supposed to do? And how is it his fault that he gets cursed by a Death Eater and gets the giggles? It isn’t like he was doing it deliberately! He keeps saying that all he did was giggle and waltz with brains, while Harry and I did all the work. I reminded him of the day he rescued me from the troll by knocking it out, but he says that was an accident, and that I shouldn’t set any store by it.” She paused to wipe her eyes with the back of her hand, smearing castor oil on her cheek. “And he even says the chess game he played was no great thing “ just a simple knowledge of chess. Do you know, I was always so mad at them for never doing anything on time, and not caring about their homework? Now I just wish I could badger them about it again. Do you know how weird it feels when Ron reminds me what Snape said two lessons ago?” She sniffed.
“I am so sorry Hermione, I had no idea. I could see things were different somehow, but I didn’t know why.” Parvati was more than a little upset. She had heard enough to horrify her about the Department of Mysteries expedition. She said hesitantly, “I wish I could have gone with you too. I know it would have been terrifying, but that is why we are part of the DA. I hope you didn’t feel that I let you down when I didn’t take Defense Against the Dark Arts this year, but I thought we would be doing it with Harry again.
She carried on scooping the Tarskein seeds. In spite of the mask, her eyes were starting to water. She looked sideways at Hermione, cutting to what she saw as the real problem.
“You know, Hermione, Ron still watches you “ a lot.”
Hermione’s head jerked up, and her eyes met Parvati’s. She was blushing, and looked as if she had been given some new hope. “You really think he does? I mean really?”
Parvati nodded, wondering how Hermione could be so brilliant in most areas, and yet so dense about Ron. “Yes, he does. He does it in a more subtle manner than last year though. We all thought maybe you had had a fight or he’d asked you out and you had said no or something.” Hermione raised her eyebrows, and Parvati blushed as she realized she had just admitted to gossiping. She searched around for a diversionary topic and was inspired. “Maybe he thinks he isn’t good enough for you.”
Hermione looked a bit encouraged. “Do you really think that could be it?”
Parvati was sympathetic. “I think it could be. And it certainly won’t do Ron a bit of harm to work hard for once.” She caught Hermione’s raised brows and blushed again. She frowned down at the Tarskein seeds. She should really learn to bite her tongue.
They filled a couple more of the bottles in silence, and then Hermione, obviously feeling that she should reciprocate, asked “How about you? Do you have a boyfriend?”
Parvati looked at her. Hermione had no cause to like Malfoy, but then neither did anybody else in the school. She was certainly not the only one to be called Mudblood by him. If anything, perhaps she came off better than some, because others were not as ready with a comeback. And she didn’t gossip. Parvati considered Hermione’s recent confidences more in the realm of being desperate to talk to someone other than Ginny, who was, of course, biased. On the other hand, she would probably express the same revulsion as Lavender, if confronted with what Parvati wanted to tell.
“Well, I guess not. No juicy gossip, at least, not yet. I may surprise you someday though…”
***************************
Draco was tired of waiting for Parvati to come out of detention, but he was nothing if not patient. He sat on a projection of jutting black rock in one of the disused corridors. He could hear the steady dripping of water, and the plopping sound as it fell into a puddle beside him. The sparse lighting flickered vainly along the walls, leaving little cheer, and flickering a somewhat oily reflection in the puddle. It was freezing, and his hands were icy. He had a numb bum. He saw his breath faintly hang in the air above him. He wondered why he had come down so soon. He had been totally alone with his thoughts, but they had done little for him besides convince him he was suffering from raging lust. For the love of magic he was finding even these doleful surroundings erotic. He heard Snape’s footsteps approaching from the opposite corridor, saw the sudden warmth as yellow light spilled into the darkness from the opened door. Then he heard the click and murmur of voices as Snape reviewed whatever it was he had given the girls to do. Just as he was about to despair, he heard footsteps. Parvati was such a sucker for a love story! If Ron had come on his own to fetch Hermione, she would find some excuse to leave them to walk alone together. He held his breath, and he was in luck. It was just a single set of footsteps, and Ron was alone. He stood leaning on the doorjamb, and Draco realized again just how much Ron had grown during last summer. He really looked like a Keeper now, with his height, broad shoulders and strong arms. The thought of having to look up to Weasley did not please him. Until this year, they had both been the same height.
As Draco had suspected, Parvati made an excuse, and Ron and Hermione left together before she at last emerged, dressed in her robes with a homemade angora scarf in blue. It looked terrible. Like something long and fluffy that had crawled round her neck and died. These scarves were very fashionable at Hogwarts at present. He had noticed all the girls wearing them. Parvati was always up with the latest trends. Ugh. At least it was better than those Weasley sweaters.
Draco turned to follow Parvati, and glanced through the door to see Snape marking rows of tiny bottles with his quill. That would keep him a while. He slid after Parvati, silent as a cat. He was used to being silent, after years of avoiding his father at home, when he was in a bad mood. Parvati wasn’t walking fast, probably because she didn’t want to catch up to Ron and Hermione and she was singing to herself a bit tunelessly, imagining herself alone. Draco, who had a good ear, winced more than once. Occasionally Parvati would kick a stone along the ground, and occasionally she would sniff the air, and look puzzled. Draco had no idea what that was about. He waited until she had turned towards the upward passage that led to the lighted corridors and stairs to the Gryffindor common room.
Quiet as he was, Parvati turned searching into the shadows, Draco saw she knew he was there, and stepped out of the shadows, walking toward her. She gasped, clutching her bag to her chest. “Draco! You startled me! Where did you come from?” As she spoke, he could see her working it out “ he had been following her, in the shadows.
Draco stopped, facing her, and tried to think of something to say. Everything failed him, and he just stared. Parvati looked into his eyes as though stunned “ a little like a deer frozen in a broom headlight. His eyes seemed to burn into her. The silver gray was white hot. Parvati’s eyes were seemed to encompass, in that second, everything that Draco had ever wanted or needed. Not knowing what else to do, he lunged forward, gripping her wrists in a vise-like clasp, and then, impatient, as she pulled away, he pinned her against the rough wall of the passageway, and his lips found hers, in a bruising, passionate, almost desperate kiss.
*******************
Parvati was so surprised, her mouth opened in a gasp, and he took immediate advantage of that to plunge deeper into the kiss. It was a minute before Parvati gathered her senses, and realized that her head had cracked against the wall, and had started to sting. Her wrists hurt where he was gripping them, and her lips “ what was she thinking? She tried to pull away, but his arms were like steel, and she made no headway. She brought her knee up smartly, in a well-practiced move from a self-defense class, and, as he doubled, she elbowed him hard in the stomach.
Draco was caught completely by surprise. He had thought Parvati easy to manage (most of the girls he had gone out with were) and had not even thought of protecting himself. The pain was incredible, and he doubled instinctively, falling to the ground - not even able to reach for his wand.
Parvati stopped shivering, poised for flight, but worried she may have really hurt him. She had not held back. As his eyes opened however, she ran, leaving her books and scarf behind her. There was a limit to bravery, and being brave with the son of a Death Eater who had just jumped her in a dark, damp corridor in the dungeons was her limit. She was no Harry Potter. Draco closed his eyes again, and lay his head back down on the dungeon floor, his knees still curled to his stomach. He was hurting now in more places than one.
*********************
Parvati ran up to the Ravenclaw common room, and stopped frantically “ what was the password? The ghostly suit of armor regarded her, not unkindly. “I’ll tell Padma that you are here”, he offered, noticing that she appeared distraught and he disappeared through the wall. A minute later Padma appeared through a sliding door. “Come in!” she cried, alarmed. Parvati hardly ever came up to the Ravenclaw common room; they usually met in the Great Hall. “What is wrong? Sir Gregory never carries messages!” Parvati smiled through her tears, which had started at Padma’s sympathy, and murmured a “thank-you” to the suit of armor, which had reappeared through the wall, before following Padma through the Ravenclaw common room and up to her dorm.
Padma sat down on her bed, and threw her arms around her twin, holding her as Parvati sobbed, and then she rose and fetched a box of tissues from underneath her bed. She was dressed in her usual salwar kameez, this time in shocking pink with gold embroidery, and lovely embroidered Indian slippers. Her scarf slipped off her shoulder. “OK, Parv, tell me all,” she demanded, sitting down on the bed beside her sister.
“Mal…..Malfoy just attacked me,” Parvati wailed into a handkerchief. “On the way back from Potions. He must have been waiting for me”. She brought her knees up onto the bed, and rocked back and forth now letting the shock take over. Padma was shocked. “Parvati “ you should tell Dumbledore! Or, or Flitwick, or McGonagall or, or, well, somebody!” Parvati shook her head, leaning over to grab her sister’s wrist, as Padma looked as if she were just about to jump up to find somebody to tell.
“Padma. I haven’t told you the worst of it. Once I had got over the shock, I think I may have been kissing him back.”
Here, Padma’s look of utter horror made Parvati start laughing over the crying. Padma listened to her a while, decided her sister was hysterical, and slapped her face sharply. Parvati subsided, occasionally hiccupping.
Padma handed her a glass of water. “I think you had better tell me from the beginning,” she said sternly.