burn, burn, burn

Send ✖ for my muse to land on yours during spin the bottle.

Before she’s even taken a seat in the vicariously positioned circle, she knows, having played this game enough times before, that these sort of things never went down well, and yet, she finds herself quickly compelled to take a seat. Perhaps she’s already had too much to drink, her inhibitions falling faster than her grades after she zones out of another a lecture, but none the less, she’s giggling with excitement, curious to see what will go down. 

It’s bound to be something for the books.

Lisa’s her first kiss of the night and Parvati’s more than happy to lock lips with a stunning girl she’s come to find is also a kindred spirit. It’s a good kiss and Parvati quickly realizes it’s going to be difficult to top.

When it finally comes around to her turn, Parvati gives the bottle a solid spin, closing her eyes, praying it landed on someone nice...or tolerable, at the very least. As she opens her eyes, seeing that the bottle’s landed on Terry, a sigh relief falls from her lips.

Laughing brightly, she beckons Terry over, wrapping her hands around his neck before pressing her lips against his. It’s a rather sweet kiss, if not slightly hesitant on both their parts as the room suddenly feels a very quiet, but it’s certainly not bad. As a girl who’s kisses tend to err on the fiery side, she admits that the simplicity of it all is a rather refreshing feeling she doesn’t mind at all.

As they pull apart, Parvati chuckles, “And that’s how it’s done, ladies and gentlemen,” she jokes, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek as they part ways and return to their respective seats within the circle. Sitting down, her eyes fall on Sophie and a wave of realization suddenly washes over her. ‘Sorry, babe,’ she mouths in the direction of her fellow Gryffindor before regaining her signature smile.

“Alrighty, then!” she says, clapping her hands together, feeling ready to move on, “Who’s next?”

When the Hufflepuff and fellow DA member looks at her expectantly waiting for her to answer, Parvati’s suddenly unsure what on Earth possessed her to choose truth. It’s a loaded question he asks and it’s not one Parvati’s sure she knows how to answer entirely.

“Um, yeah, I guess?” Parvati shrugs, “Isn’t everyone jealous of their sibling every now and then?” she muses before laughing lightly, “I mean it’s pretty easy to be jealous of Padma-- she’s smart, she’s independent, and has this charm about her that’s just so damn captivating. If anything I guess I alternate between jealousy and flat out admiring my sister,” she laughs, “I mean I would say I’m jealous of how insanely beautiful she is, but in that regard, I’ll just thank my lucky stars we happen to share the same face.”

Send ☠ for our muses to do shots together / Send ☺ for my muse to do a body shot off yours.

Throwing back the full contents of her shot glass, Parvati looks over at Seamus, a giggle falling from her lips. He’s perhaps her favorite drinking partner and it’s fair to say it’s far from the first time they’ve done shots together.

“Merlin, Seamus I think I’ve already lost track of what number we’re on,” she manages out in between her fit of giggles as she looks around, “This is sooooo different than the muggle pubs.”

“Still not sure if it’s better or worse, but I’m not going to say no to the alcohol,” Seamus replies, as their glasses refill themselves, “regardless of the source.”

They should probably should keep their voices down, but as it appears, it’s safe to assume everyone around them is either too drunk or too distracted to take much notice of their allusions to their less-than-allowed late-night activities.

“Oh, oh, oh!” Parvati exclaims, clapping her hands together, as her eyes are drawn to the salt and limes sitting between them, “You know what we can do here?”

“What?” he asks with the quirk of his eyebrow as he follows her line of sight, before picking up on her suggestion, before barking out his own laugh, “Oh, you’re on, Patil.”

Grinning wickedly, she places some salt on the crook of his neck, as he grabs one of the limes to hold in his mouth. “Okay, here we go,” she chuckles, as she throws back the liquid, and moves over to lick the salt off his neck, eventually biting down on the lime he held in his mouth as her face contorted in response to the sourness of the lime.

Pulling back, laughter still falling from her lips, she looks at Seamus with a wicked grin, “Looks like it’s your turn now, buddy!”

✦ for a college au

Parvati’s confident she nearly gave her mother a heart attack when she first introduced the idea attending an art school, as opposed to a more traditional university, but as she stands on the campus, bags in hand, inhaling the creativity, she knows she’s made the right choice. There was something magical about the place. As she wanders around, taking in the gorgeous architecture that the Hogwarts Institute of Art and Design, had to offer, she eventually stumbles into the building she been looking for all along.

After fumbling with the keys for a few moments, she finally manages her way into her dorm room, only to find a rather radiant redheaded, laying on her bed, singing along to a pop song Parvati instantly recognized. Identifying the girl as Sally-Anne, her roommate for the for the year, she grinned widely excited to finally meet the girl in person.

“Hey!” Parvati greets, placing her bags on the opposite side of the room, “Sally-Anne, right?” she asks with a hesitant wave as the other girl pulls her headphones out of her ears. 

“That’s me!” she grins vibrantly, as she props herself upright, “You must be Parvati!“

"Yep!” the brunette affirms as she looks around the room, most of Sally-Anne’s things already set up, “So, remind me what major were you, again?” she asks sheepishly, unable to recall what they had texted about earlier.

“Vocal performance,” the girl replies, though judging from the earlier tune she had been singing, Parvati has no doubt the girl has chosen the right path, “You’re fashion design, right? I can’t wait to see your clothes,” she giggles, as Parvati takes a seat on her own bed.

“ You. ”

And Merlin, does that word in that tone of voice indicate some entertainment fast approaching. Fast approaching, Blaise discovers, with all her teeth bared in a glittering smile he’s far too familiar with not to know exactly where this is heading before she even opens her mouth. One time is an incident, two is a coincidence, three is a pattern  – but the number of times they’ve done this? Practically ritual.

Blaise might’ve actually left Parvati alone early on, let her face blur to match all the other people who didn’t matter that he passed in the halls every day, if she hadn’t made it so satisfying right from the beginning not to. The designated lion out of the two Patils had Gryffindor’s stupid, stubborn fire in excess, he could see it burning hot in her gaze every time he so much as grinned in her proximity – she was too fun to not set off, to keep pushing further, to see just how far he could make her anger go. Blaise didn’t find it in him to have much concern about what the tipping point of that anger might look like; it wouldn’t be the first time a girl had tried to hex him, after all. Rather not get started? Please. The expression on her face is pleading for the exact opposite of his deference to her so-called wishes.

“If I was going to report you, Patil, I’d have to care enough about seeing you get in trouble to bother,” Blaise replies, injecting a flatness into his voice that suggests he’s already bored with the conversation a single sentence in, “And shockingly, I don’t.” He hadn’t noticed her lack of uniform robes at first, but once Parvati steps close enough for her perfume to settle around him, it’s obvious her common room is the last place she’s headed.

“In fact I won’t even bother asking what you’re trying to sell with that getup,” He continues cooly, only the anticipatory glint in his eye betraying the set-up as he takes his time looking her up and down, “Considering the fact that if that’s the outfit you’re advertising with, we already know the contents must be cheap.”

She’s never understood why this continues to happen. It would be so easy for them to ignore one another and not a soul would bat an eye, especially as, unlike a majority of his housemates, Blaise was the kind of person who could only be characterized by a cool indifference, so what joy did he get out of riling her up like this? Perhaps it was that she made for an easy target, a hotheaded firecracker with volatile emotions that were all too easy to spark. She thinks with age and experience, she’s gotten better at handling herself, especially in the war-zone that’s been made of Hogwarts, but something about the man before her manged to under her skin in way no else ever could.

Merlin, she wanted to slap that egregious, self-righteous smirk of his face.

She’d be lying if she said a slight wave of relief didn’t roll through her shoulders as he revealed he had no intention of reporting her transgressions. Between getting caught in the process of hiding some first years in the Divination classroom and muttering her disdain for Amycus slightly too loud in Dark Arts, over the past week she had found herself in detention just a touch too often for her liking and wasn’t sure she could handle another one. She hates the fact that concealment charms have become her specialty among the DA, students of all years and houses coming her to hide the scars and bruises. She, herself, had spent the last half hour hiding the physical remnants of her most recent session of detention.

She supposes it’s vain, but she's always relied on her appearance. It was often the only thing she felt she had control over.

“Fuck you, Blaise,” she finally says in response, never realizing how habitual the phrase has become until she repeats it another damn time. “As if you would know something something good if you saw it, Zabini,” she spits out, through gritted teeth. “Not to mention, I wouldn’t look for your approval if you were the last fucking wizard on the planet...or in the universe, for that matter,” she replies with the irritated fold of her arms, rolling her eyes, if only for added emphasis.

“Besides, you couldn’t handle a single second of that kind of attention from me, if you tried.”

“Unfortunately, I haven’t got a twin to play off of—or fortunately, really, I don’t think the world could handle two of me, much less the school.” Lisa’s lips quirked downward as she thought more of the missing girl—which led her to thinking of all their missing classmates. “Look, I—-enough of that. I can’t think about that, or Pansy, or the Carrows for another second tonight or I’ll go mad, I fucking swear. We should be—-dicking around, gossiping like asshole teenagers, not—-fighting a fucking war.” Lisa  kicked a pile of the cushions used for astronomy lessons (and a fair bit more, she’d wager) together with a huff, before flopping down onto them, “So tonight we are—-not at war, we are just—-idiots drinking on top of the Astronomy Tower talking shit on our classmates. I’ll start—–give me the details on Dean and Seamus. Were they a thing? I have to be honest, that duo is near the top of my fantasy threesomes list.”

“Fair enough,” Parvati chuckles, “The world can barely handle two Patils, as is,” she laughs brightly as she’s met by a sudden change in Lisa’s attitude, one she’s more than happy to follow suit. “Merlin, you’re right,” she agrees, as she pops the cork off the un-transfigured bottle of firewhiskey, taking a decent chug before handing the bottle to Lisa. At thought of Dean, she suddenly wishes she hadn’t handed to bottle to Lisa so quickly, already craving a second swig. Dean had always been one of her closest friends and since he had been gone, his absence had certainly been felt. Nonetheless, the girl manages to draw a laugh from Parvati, “God, Dean and Seamus? Where would I even begin with those two?” she laughs, nearly choking at the mention of a ‘fantasy threesome list’. “Put it this way, all I can say is that I like a lady with good tastes,” she responds throwing her head back in laughter (after all, a good gossiper never revealed all her cards right away). 

Anger was something Sophie didn’t have a lot of room for these days. With the fear, sadness, anxiety, hopelessness, and melancholy clouding her brain she was worried feeling another emotion on top of that might make her burst. She wished she was angry though - anger was a driving emotion, one that would push her to do something out of all of this, instead of just trying to lay back and survive.  “We have to have each others backs… It’s all of us against them.” Logically, they should be the ones to win. The whole student body against three professors? Except it wasn’t that easy. It wasn’t just them on the lines - it was their families. The thought of something happening to her mother or her siblings made her stomach twist, and Sophie gave Parvati’s hand a light squeeze to help ground herself.  “I’m glad to have you, Parvati.” Sophie added, speaking more softly. “I think that’s about the only good thing to come out of this… that I’m closer to you and Lavender now.” There was silver lining to this - and the new and stronger friendships she was making with others during this time was one of them. “I’m sorry I missed out on years of being good friends with you.” And with Hermione. She didn’t need to say it - as they had all been thinking it. 

She smiles as Sophie says that the Gryffindor girls’ newfound friendship is a bright spot of the year, because it truly is. In many ways she wishes she had found these wonderful girls in a time of less pain and strife, but on the other hand, she knows they’ve become bonded so much closer because of it. “I guess sometimes good things do come out of the darkness,” she smiles softly, “It’s truly a shame we haven’t been closer for longer,” Parvati muses, “but I refuse to let the lost time define our relationship, what matters now is that you're one of the dearest people in my life, and just know, there is nothing I won’t do for the people I love.”

As she speaks with the girl beside her, Parvati can’t help the slight smile that forms on her lips. It’s in these moments, she’s proudest to be a Gryffindor, to stand (or in this case, sit) with the people she cared about most and feel her spirit revitalize. Perhaps Parvati wasn’t the bravest witch to set foot in the Gryffindor common room, but she found her bravery and joy in her friends and housemates, and for that she was eternally grateful to have been chosen for her house.

“But enough about this misery,” she says, regaining a more familiar grin, her posture slowly straightening up, “How’s charms homework going?” she asks, knowing it was the one class they shared, “Shockingly, I’ve actually really been enjoying Flitwick’s lectures lately,” she reveals, with a sheepish grin, “I always enjoy when we discuss topics with actual real-world applications.”

Send “✉” for a text that WASN’T SENT. 

[ 7:04pm ]: you ever wonder how it’s going to end?[ 7:04pm ]: like if what we’re doing is making difference?[ 7:05pm ]: unsent.

Send “⁇” for a DRUNK text. 

[ 1:28am ]: michael and seamus thinks i’m druunk??![ 1:29am ]: but i’m totally fineeee[ 1:29am ]: i’m texting you rightt?? [ 1:31am ]: pleasse tell your friends i’m notr drunk.

Send “ø” for a LATE NIGHT text. 

It’s late on a Saturday night and as she fixes the final touches on her makeup and adjusts her garishly large hoop earrings a final time, she smiles at her reflection in the mirror, seemingly satisfied with the finished product. She had made quite the habit of sneaking out to muggle bars on the weekends, and though none of her usual partners-in-crime hadn’t been up for tonight, she decides the lack of company wouldn’t be a deterrence. She needed a break from the castle, a place free of the responsibility she carried so heavily on her shoulders, where she could pretend her life was normal and everything was fine. She needed a place where she could be anybody she wanted, anybody but herself.

Most nights, her escapes went off without a hitch. She managed to work out ideal timings to avoid an unwanted attention and through countless hours of practice had achieved the ability to produce an illegal, generally untraceable portkey (to think what would happen if she applied herself as much to her school work). Save the once time McGonagall had caught her stumbling back into the Common Room in her drunken state, who let her off the hook with no more than a stern warning, she was yet to be caught, perhaps only emboldening her late night antics.

Tonight, however, as she made her way towards the Courtyard, she finds herself turning the corner, only to run in to perhaps the last person in the world she wanted to see.

“Ugh. You,” she groans instinctively to herself as her eyes meet a familiar face. It wasn’t fair that someone so awfully repulsive was also so goddamn attractive. (She thinks there ought to be a law against that or something.) It was a strange feeling simultaneously wanting to strangle and kiss someone, but she supposed, at the very least, it kept things interesting. Her attraction to him, however, did little to temper her hatred of the man, leaving her with few options to proceed. Eventually she opts for a slow, deep breath, pressing her lips together in her signature, dazzling smile as she approached to figure. She refused to let him of all people ruin her night. “Why hello there Mr. Zabini,” she says, her tone bordering on sickeningly sweet, “Now, before you say whatever vile comment you have waiting for me on the tip of your tongue or threaten to report me to you’re little friends, I’m going to request one time and one time only for you to shut up and keep it to yourself, because it’s a far too lovely Saturday evening to spend on you and seeing as I have far more important places to be, I rather not get started right now,” she says with the decisive lift of her brow, the wicked smirk on her lips begging, daring him to try and say something. 

It was good that most of the professors and other adults around the school were completely on the sides of the students. That they were willing to disobey the Carrows and Snape for the sake of keeping everyone safe - McGonagall had always been on the front line of that, and more than ever, Sophie held a strong respect and compassion for the woman.  The hint of doubt in Parvati’s voice goes unnoticed. Sophie wanted to believe things would be better too - that Hogwarts would soon return to it’s former glory and everything would be just fine. She accepted Parvati’s offered hand, her fingers trembling slightly as she laced their fingers together. She squeezed her hand, and the shaking stopped.  “There’s still a part of me that thinks this can’t be real.” Sophie confessed. “That Hogwarts would NEVER be like this… That… That one day I’ll wake up and Professor Dumbledore will still be in charge and things will be normal and this will have all been some awful dream.” In that dream world, Sophie would get up and go about her day. She wouldn’t notice anything was different until she saw Dumbledore taking his usual seat at the staff table to eat breakfast. Then the mail would come in, and she’d receive a letter signed by both her parents gushing about how well their Star Grass was growing in. Things would be okay. But with every passing day the disaster of a world they were living in became more and more clear and the thought of escaping became foolish. “I think that hope is about the only thing keeping me sane.” 

Dumbledore.

Her heart sinks at the reminder of the name, the man who they all lost far too soon. For Parvati, Professor Dumbledore was Hogwarts-- he symbolized everything the school had once stood for and his fall had only signaled the doom that would follow. She had always been fond of the professor, the wizard who had smiled at her kindly when he had caught her hiding in a broom closet, cheeks streaked with tears, after some of her peers had brutally teased her admiration of Professor Trelawney and love for divination. Instead of giving her detention, he simply offered her a chocolate frog and told her he wouldn’t be surprised if her talents in would one day land her on her very own card before disappearing with wink.

As their fingers linked together, Parvati sighed, “I know. There’s some days I just close my eyes and I see it. I see our lives as they should be and as soon as I open my eyes and realize what our lives have truly become, it just get so...angry, you know?” she reveals, pushing her dark locks away from her face with her free hand, “For so many students here, Hogwarts was once the only place we ever felt and home...and now? Now, it’s the farthest thing from home. It’s become hell.”

“Merlin knows what I’d do without hope at this point,” she agrees as her gaze falls on the girl beside her, “I honestly don’t know if I could survive any of this without you all...” she says truthfully. At this point, the DA was beginning to become her last inkling of hope, the last source of joy and happiness left it in her life.

It was all she had left and with what had happened with Neville, it was beginning to feel as if the Carrows were robbing her of that too.

𝕲𝖗𝖞𝖋𝖋𝖎𝖓𝖉𝖔𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖘 𝕿𝖆𝖗𝖔𝖙 𝕮𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖘

           she smiles and takes parvati’s hand, feels WARM from the whiskey and adrenaline in her veins. and it’s moments like these where she kicks her younger self for not finding this girl sooner, for not linking arms with lavander and her just as she’d done with sophie in their first year —– but it is better late than never, isn’t it, and she knows people wait  l i f e t i m e s  for the friendships she’s found in her gryffindor girls, could defeat voldemort himself and still not deserve them but merlin will she spend the rest of her life trying to. her free hand swipes the flask from parvati and takes a long sip, wants to flinch at the burn but has trained her body not to, instead just sighs and runs a hand through sweat slick hair. “ just got into it with pansy. ” she’s mumbling because she’s not proud of what she’s done, knows it was impulsive and stupid but she doesn’t quite regret it, feels calmer than she had before. “ she said somethin’ real bad about neville ‘n i just, SNAPPED. 

          i’ve got detention later today, don’t know how long she’s gonna make me suffer for this one. ” fei had hesitated, the first time she’d seen the prefect badge on pansy’s robes, had been planning some prank, nothing serious, something she’d picked up from zonko’s with the money she’d made working that summer, wanted to start the year with a BANG ( literally ) and she’d been all set, when the pansy had walked by, badge glinting in the light, and she’d wondered if it was worth the punishment pansy would inevitably lay down on her, wondered if there was a limit on how many detentions she could give one person, before shaking off the thought and setting the stink bomb off in the slytherin common anyway.    

She gives Fei’s hand a tight squeeze, giggling as she swipes the flask out of her hand, because it feels so easy to pretend that their nothing more than just two friends sitting together, drinking and laughing, and that the world is okay and that their not at war. But six words in and her brief fantasy shatters as she reminded of the brutal reality of their situation. “If I’m being honest, I might find myself down their with you. Firewhiskey’s got me feeling a little brave, I suppose,” she chuckles, because if anything, she’s a fiery, passionate drunk. “So long as I don’t bump into any Slytherins or the Carrows, I should be fine, but I don’t think I’ll be able to keep my mouth shut for long if I do.”

Maybe it’s the reveal that Pansy’s put her friend in detention or perhaps it truly is the Firewhiskey, but her anger feels suddenly ten times more present and her empty hand quickly forms a fist. “If I don’t manage to make it there with you, know that I’ll be waiting up for in the common room,” she says with a slight smile, “I’m sure Lav and Soph will want to join as well. None of us tend to sleep so well if we’re all not there.” The word ‘all’ had become relative because without Hermione, they truly couldn’t consider themselves to be ‘all’ there, it’s what made sharing her bed all the more comforting-- their way of reminding themselves that physical presence was irrelevant, that their loyalty and love ran far deeper than any distance or space.