#harvati

A reducto curse went flying past Harry’s ear and he spun on his heel to see Parvati’s braid whipping behind her in the spell’s backdraught, her wand arm raised towards Hermione, who had apparently just ducked.

As she straightened the bushy-haired witch glanced behind her, catching Harry’s eye long enough for him to see the expression of outrage descend over her features before she turned back to Parvati. “You idiot, Patil, you could have really hurt me!”

Parvati’s pretty face scrunched as she snorted derisively, “Oh please, it wouldn’t have touched you.” She flicked her head, letting the braid shift to her other shoulder. “I can actually aim a spell.” Her lips pursed as she added drily, “Maybe next time you won’t dismiss me just because I prefer Divination to Arithmancy, which by the way -”

“Divination isn’t even magic, it’s just superstitious nonsense -”

Hermione’s voice was growing suspiciously shrill and Harry took a step towards the pair, aware as he did so that the rest of the DA were watching the two girls with expressions ranging from amused to worried.

“Oh, bite me Granger,” Parvati sneered, and now her wand definitely was pointed at Hermione.

The other girl inhaled sharply, throwing her wand arm out and opening her mouth to cast something that she’d undoubtedly regret.

“ENOUGH,” Harry yelled, taking a rather ill-advised step between the two of them. Hermione put her wand up straight away, but Parvati kept hers pointed at him, her dark eyes flashing angrily.

“Stepped up to defend your girlfriend, have you Potter?” she asked quietly, and Harry stared, mystified, as Parvati’s wide, lovely mouth tightened.

“I – what?” he said, only to have his bewilderment deepen when Parvati gave a frustrated growl and stormed from the room without another word.

Harry looked around him at the gathered DA members, most of whom seemed to suddenly be finding either the floor or the ceiling incredibly interesting. Ron met his eyes and gave a helpless shrug, mouthing ‘Girls’ but it was Hermione who broke the silence.

“Maybe…er.” She frowned, but not, Harry realised, in confusion. Hermione’s expression had that odd blankness that he recognised as her slotting together the pieces of a puzzle. Finally she met his eyes, “You should probably go after her, Harry.” She shifted awkwardly, “Check she’s alright.”

Harry didn’t argue, trusting Hermione’s advice and grateful for the excuse to escape the distinctly awkward atmosphere of the room.

He pulled the Map from his pocket as he emerged into the seventh-floor corridor, quickly spotting Parvati. She hadn’t gone far, seemed to be huddled in an alcove only just round the corner in fact, and so he tucked the Map away and set off after her.

“Parvati?” He said quietly, peering around the statue of a scowling, barrel-chested wizard who looked like Sir Cadogan without armour.

“Go away,” she whispered, lifting her face to look at him.

Her hair had come free of its plait and fell around her face like a shining curtain, and Harry was seized by the wholly unexpected desire to tuck it behind her ear. He realised belatedly, and with horror, that Parvati was crying, her eyes gleaming with tears that spilt in shimmering tracks over her dusky cheeks.

“Why are you crying?” he blurted, wincing as she fixed him with a glare.

“Didn’t I just tell you to go away?”

“I’m not going to just leave you here,” Harry sighed, pushing his glasses up his nose as he tried not to think about how very pretty the angry flush that stained Parvati’s cheeks was.

“Fine,” she huffed, “I’m crying because I just made a ridiculous scene in front of twenty of my friends because of some stupid crush that isn’t even – isn’t even -” she hiccoughed, then lifted her hands to cover her face.

Without thinking, Harry reached out and took hold of her wrists, pulling her hands down and trying to look her in the eye, but she stared determinedly into her lap. “You have a crush?” he asked, “On me?”

Parvati gave a low, humourless laugh that sounded nothing like her usual giggle, “Idiotic, I know. But, Godric, when you asked me to the Yule Ball last year…” she bit her lip, then gave a little shrug, “Didn’t you wonder why I didn’t have a date? I’m pretty easy on the eye, Harry, I got asked plenty of times.”

“Why didn’t you have a date?” he breathed, and she gave that sad, terrible little laugh again.

“Because you hadn’t asked anyone. And then when you did, and it was me…I wrote to my mum and everything, Harry,” she said, finally looking at him. “I was so excited, I even made Padma go with Ron…” This time her smile was lighter, but it was gone after a moment, “And then you spent the whole evening looking at Cho bloody Chang…who, by the way, is still completely hung up on Cedric, like, do not even go there, shitshow waiting to happen -”

She stopped talking when Harry placed his hand over her mouth, “Why did you call Hermione my girlfriend?” he asked.

Parvati rolled her eyes, “Because obviously she’s not but the three of you, honestly, it’s infuriating, and I just…snapped.”

Harry couldn’t take his eyes from her, the way her skin caught the gold of the torches and glowed; the lovely bow of her lips. “What about the guy from Beauxbatons?” he asked quietly.

“Jerôme?” She gave another mocking little laugh, “I thought it might make you jealous. And then I ended up dating him for nine months,” a tiny shudder, “so many letters, and his English was so flowery.”

Harry chanced a little laugh and felt his heart stutter when she gave him a small smile. Almost immediately Parvati’s face fell, and she twitched her arms free of his grip.

“Anyway,” she muttered, pushing herself away from the wall, “Now you know, so please just…don’t make fun of me.”

She made to push past him at the same time that Harry tried to catch hold of her arm again, and somehow the two opposing motions resulted in them tumbling to the floor, Parvati on top of him, their noses almost touching.

“Uh,” Harry said, staring into Parvati’s dark, dark eyes. It seemed, given the proximity, given the fact that he could actually feel her heart beating as fast as his where their chests were pressed together, like the thing to do might be to kiss her.

So he did.

“Well it was obvious, really.” Hermione said later, “But you do tend to be completely oblivious to these sorts of things.”