Strange Comfort

Strange Comfort Part One

Now that Dumbledore was back as sole headmaster of Hogwarts, the year ahead promised to be more "ordinary" (if one could use such a term to describe anything about Hogwarts or about being a student at Hogwarts), or rather, more as it had been during her first 4 years at the school. The presence of so many aurors at the institution most of the year before, much as they apparently tried to be inconspicuous, while still letting their "presence" be known to all, had been unsettling enough, but the more overt ministry representatives, scrutinizing the little details of the daily operations of Hogwarts, had done their best to stifle every bit of fun they could imagine. Luckily, they hadn´t been able to imagine much. They were, after all, pretty much bureaucrats, or would be, later on in their careers, and most of the year hadn´t been as bad as it might have if those gloomy "officials," those bureaucrats in the making, had known more than a dram´s worth of the secret life, as it were, of Hogwarts.

They way they had treated Professor Trelawney, however, both the aurors and the ministry snoops, had been, well, unprofessional, and frankly disgusting. The low point of their behaviour. Hogwarts´ divination instructor was a professional, well-trained, gifted woman in a thankless role, to all intents and purposes a war hero, or very nearly, and if she had become suspicious of even her most adoring pupils by the end of the year, who could blame her?

At least the great madness is over. The dementors are gone, the goblin rebellion pretty much quelled, and only Voldemort himself, with his surviving minion, still at large, a little cell where once had been legions.

"Come on, oh serious one, let´s not miss the last sorting we´ll ever be privileged to see," her sister said, grabbing her hand and dragging her toward the nearly full dining hall. "There´s the first years already. Come on."

I haven´t known whether you were being kind or impatient, angry or excited, sarcastic or ingenuous for a long time now, thought Parvati. But I don´t care. I would love you even if you weren´t my sister.

You are. I am. We all are.

They walked into the room and separated, heading for their house tables. Just as we did after our own sorting, Parvati thought. She made her way to the empty chair beside Lavender, thinking how little she wanted to know these people, many of them, the way she had come to know them, over the last six years. I want you all to be blank sheets again, before all that... that what? She paused for a just a second while it came to her. Before all the scrawling and scribbling. Well, she smiled, not quite, but close.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Lavender jumped up and, without the tiniest hint of a squeal, threw her arms around Parvati. "Parv," was all she said.

It was a few seconds before Parvati was able to speak. "Lav," she said. And they sat down, shoulder to shoulder, to watch the sorting ceremony, as the potions professor, as dark, as brooding as ever, led the first years in.

"When your name is called, pick up the hat, sit on the chair, and place the hat on your head. When it has announced it´s decision, take off the hat and place it on the chair for the next student. Then make your way to your assigned house table." Professor Snape said this all in a toneless voice, slightly louder than necessary. "Cecilia ..."

"Gad, he even makes the sorting into a kind of excruciating ordeal," Lavender whispered.

I don´t know you, Seamus. You are a mystery to me. Your past is unknown, your present a distant flicker, your future unreadable. So thought Parvati, as the sorting began under the dour guidance of Professor Snape.

"Winter..."

I don´t know you at all, Neville. You are an unknown quantity. Your past, present and future are opaque. Who are you? Would you show me?

"Hufflepuff!" called the hat, and the table of the loyal and trustworthy applauded.

Lavender, you too are veiled, unseen. You of all I thought I knew. There, behind the fog of fear and unknowing, somewhere. If I reached into it in faith and trust, I still do not doubt I would find your hand, leading.

"Ravenclaw!" called the hat, and the table dedicated to learning and study rang with applause.

Dean, you are so far away now. Have I ever really seen you? You smile at me now, and I smile back. Yes, I think you are there, somewhere, or near there, where that smile began.

"Gryffindor!" called the hat, and Parvati clapped with the rest of the hearty and courageous.

Ron, thought Parvati, you are as a chair to me, as one less here than not here, and here only as a chair can be here. Of you I know nothing. And there is no path to you.

"Slytherin!" called the hat, and the means-justifies-the-ends table applauded.

And you, Harry, way over there, you...

But Parvati´s game with herself stopped abruptly as Dumbledore slowly stood up to make some announcements.

Over already? Why, that´s not even 25 students...

"Welcome, welcome, to our new first years and to all who are here. Before the traditional feast, I have just..." Here the aging headmaster stopped to take a few breaths. "...a few start of term announcements. There is to be no magic... in the corridors between classes. Quidditch tryouts next week." Here there was a slight pause. "Forest out of bounds to all students."

He cleared his throat softly once, and took a few more breaths. He remained composed, but seemed slightly annoyed at himself. In truth, the wizard was struggling. A vast hush had fallen on the hall. "I am sorry," Dumbledore said, "just one more announcement. In the spring term, there will be a fortnight long Quidditch tournament between Durmstrang, Beauxbatons, and Hogwarts, held here." Some applause, but subdued. "This will be organized by Professor McGonagall and Madame Hooch, as well as representatives from the other schools." Another few breaths. The two sentences had nearly drained him. "Something to look forward to. Now..." Another breath. "Dig in!"

A Quidditch tournament? Was that wise? Bringing more attention to the school? In the last two years, true, the magical community had all but crushed the ranks of the Death Eaters, at no small price. But everyone knew a small, strong group of Voldemort´s closest followers, with Voldemort himself at the head, was still on the loose, somewhere. There had been no news of this group over the summer, and for months no unexplained disappearances, but while the dark wizard was unaccounted for, no one felt really safe. What, Parvati thought, is the meaning of this, then?

While Dumbledore had been speaking, not a few students had begun to feel that this might be the last start of term feast the headmaster would address. They were still casting questioning glances at each other, or wondering how the tournament would be organized, when the piles of food appeared. Most "dug in" right away, while some, Parvati and her immediate neighbours at the Gryffindor table among them, watched as Dumbledore, instead of sitting down to eat, walked slowly away from the staff table and through a door to the right, his progress observed by the other staff members as one. A few students would later swear that, just before the headmaster disappeared, Madame Pomfrey had been standing by the doorway, waiting for him.

Parvati dedicated herself to eating. Her game would have to wait. But since this feast was as wonderful and varied as any had ever been, perhaps even more varied than ever, it wasn´t hard. "Parv," said Lavender, "you don´t intend to go another year with no boyfriend, do you? Not seriously?"

"Lavender, last year you had enough admirers for both of us. This year, well..." She wanted to get this right. "This year I have decided to waste no time on the matter whatsoever. Either there´s a real spark, an enchantment without magic, or nothing. I won´t avoid it, but I won´t go pretending it means anything either." Parvati widened her eyes expressively, "unless it really does." Lavender laughed. "No, I´m serious. I want to get out of this school a..."

She stopped, of course. A few faces glanced towards her, but quickly turned away. Lavender, however, simply added, "alive. Yes. I know. You told me two weeks ago. Remember?" Then, looking into Parvati eyes, she said, "You know, it´s pretty much over, isn´t it? Just a bit of mopping up. That´s what they say, anyway. How can you be so worried?" Parvati looked away. "I know you´ll be fine, by the way. I´ve seen it." And Lavender started eating again, smiling to herself.

Do you know? How would you really, thought Parvati. Alive in spirit as well as body? Any of us?

They were all just starting to enjoy the sumptuous offerings, when again a hush fell over the room. At first a few heads turned to the great entrance, then more and more, until everyone was looking at the witch who stood there, turning her head very slowly from left to right and left and back again. Three times the graceful figure did this, as if taking stock of the entire hall before venturing inside.

Parvati had been prepared for this one, dreading it for two months. And though there was no little joy mixed with the anxiety, she was surprised to find that her skin was crawling. "Oh no," she said to herself, too quietly for anyone to hear. If she had been listening, though, she would have heard similar things from many of the people around her.

Lavender gently rested her hands on Parvati´s. They shared this knowledge, if you could call it that. They had been there, in the Gryffindor common room, and had both cast spells. But only one of them had cast a forbidden one.

The witch was now making her way toward them, carefully, yet at the same time casually, as if she had become used to being in a state of somewhat heightened awareness, or however you would describe the way she held herself as she approached the Gryffindor table.

Six years ago, this witch had worried that the sorting ceremony would turn out to be a kind of test. She had wondered aloud about how well prepared for it she was. A bossy know-it-all then, yes, and that probably hadn´t changed too much, thought Parvati. Though, perhaps, "brilliant" would be a better way to describe her now. But she had always been extremely kind to others, and Parvati had to admit that, over the years, she had achieved a level of respect not often granted to students.

It was a purely muggle custom for sightless people to wear dark glasses in public, but the Head Girl was wearing very dark glasses indeed.

"Well," said Hermione, addressing her seventh year classmates, who had yet to speak a word since seeing her at the door. "I suppose I should say something to break the tension."

For just a moment, Parvati feared that Hermione was about to be mobbed by people glad to see her. However, Seamus, mouth still full of chicken, said "Hey, Hermione, good to see you. Uh, to have you back." And then Neville, Dean, Parvati and Lavender, and others greeted her.

Good, thought Parvati. The hall suddenly sounded normal again. People were eating again, and talking. And the ghosts were arriving. Alright.

Sitting down between a glum-looking Ron and a glum-looking Harry, Hermione carefully picked up her knife and fork. "Thanks for saving me some, guys," she said.

Seamus was staring expectantly at Harry and Ron and Hermione. A bit rude, Parvati was thinking, when Hermione decided it was time to play a few cards, so to speak. "So, Harry," she said, turning slightly to her right, "why do you have a pack of Frizzy Biscuits in your back pocket?" Frizzy Biscuits were the Weasley twins latest Wheeze. They caused people´s hair to stick out straight from their heads for a half an hour, more or less, depending on how many were consumed. "I hope you´re not planning something silly. Really, Gryffindor can´t afford to lose the points, you know. They are counting again this year."

Ron stifled a very small snicker, while Harry began to look positively depressed. "Uh, I uh..."

"And Ron," she said, turning slightly to her left, "you really don´t want to be using the one´s in your pocket either. I thought you guys were past all..."

But before she could say "that nonsense," Seamus had stretched his open hand in front of Ron. "Ha! 5 sickles each. Ha!" he exclaimed, looking back and forth between the two rather nauseous looking seventh year boys. "Bit of wishful thinking on your parts, I think," he added, laughing.

Reluctantly, Ron, dug into his pockets, pulled out a few coins, and deposited 5 sickles into Seamus´ hand. While Hermione shook her head, Harry stood up and relieved his pocket of 5 sickles too.

I cannot believe they are that glum just because they can´t hide things from her, thought Parvati.

For a few moments, they ate in silence.

"But then, now I think of it," said Hermione, turning towards Seamus, who still looked quite satisfied with himself, "what´s wrong with a little harmless fun, even a gamble?"

Parvati thought at first that Hermione was looking at Seamus. Her head was turned completely towards him, and she seemed to be concentrating. It wasn´t exactly looking, but something very like it.

"Seamus, to whom is that letter in your back pocket addressed?" Even Harry and Ron laughed at the open-mouthed look of astonishment, and not a little fear, that Seamus´ face now bore. "And you might want to check your spelling." Several people gasped. "Not that I can read your letter of course, but you know how bad your spelling can be, when you´re nervous, even now." Seamus looked at his plate then, and behind Hermione´s back, Ron and Harry did a half-hearted high five.

"Hermione, could you tell me something?" The Head Girl´s face showed a trace of trepidation, or was it disappointment, or fear? "Just how good is your hearing right now?" Parvati, unable to hold back the question, was leaning across the table.

There, thought Parvati, I´ve said something.

At that moment, laughter could be heard at the Slytherin table. Hermione appeared to be focussing on the other end of the table, however. "Well, I can´t tell everything they just said," she spoke slowly, motioning to where the seventh year Slytherins had been laughing. "But I do know Draco Malfoy just wondered aloud to Pansy Parkinson if I´d be `seeing´ anyone this year."

So, what will it be tonight, hmm? Do I cast a little sleep charm on myself? I certainly won´t be the only one doing that tonight.

Not the only one...

Parvati lay in bed. Lavender had fallen asleep.

Well, she thought. Well.

She remembered most things pretty clearly. There was something unclear about this one, though, this thing. Even though it played through her mind seemingly with a will of its own, the story never quite enveloped her, never solidified into... What? Into the real telling? Into the final telling?

Of course, there wasn´t going to be a final telling, ever. There rarely is, least of all for the kind of story it was.

Is.

"Lavender! Parvati! What are you doing?" Hermione had shouted. They had just returned from a short Saturday excursion to the Astronomy tower. Professor Trelawney hadn´t been there.

"Wha..."

They had never seen Hermione so agitated.

"Look, I just have to check the girls dorm for stragglers. Check the boy´s dorm and get everyone to the dining hall." Hermione had said this all very fast. "Now! Hurry!" With that, Hermione had run up the stairs to the girl´s dorm two steps at a time. "Go!" she had screamed over her shoulder as she´d disappeared.

Parvati and Lavender had split up to check the dorms faster, running. They had found no one, and had met up again at the top of the stairs leading to the common room.

"What do you think it is?" Lavender had asked, panting. "What´s hap..."

When the two Death Eaters had apparated into the common room right before their eyes, several things had occurred to Parvati all at once.

First, that there were three people in the common room: two Death Eaters, wands out, and a perspiring Hermione, pulling something out of her robes, no, not something, her wand of course, while staring at the hooded figures from about 10 metres away. Second, that since the Death Eaters had apparated into the common room, something must have been broken. Yes, the school´s ancient magical protection. That must be the emergency. Third, Parvati had been conscious of exactly how long it was taking her to retrieve her wand. At least I´ve already got my hand on it, she´d thought. Fourth, she´d realized the two Death Eaters somehow hadn´t noticed she and Lavender at the top of the stairs. That means everything, she´d thought. Fifth, that Lavender´s and her own movements had been synchronized. Fast, but not panicky, she had noted.

She had also hoped Lavender would pick the other Death Eater, the one just slightly on Lavender´s side.

And for a second she´d also thought, despairingly, that it was just about right that, when you needed them, there were no aurors anywhere.

What had not occurred to Parvati at the time was what hex she was going to use, what curse.

"Crucio!" the Death Eater on Parvati´s side had said. Parvati had been shaken by the sound that had come from Hermione´s throat, a jagged syllable composed of lava and acid. She hadn´t actually heard what the other Death Eater had said immediately after the first had cast his curse, but even as she´d begun forming the words to her own, wand pointed directly at the chest of the Death Eater slightly on her side, she´d been aware that Hermione was rolling very close to the fireplace that dominated the common room, and she had her hands over her eyes, even while she´d screamed.

"Expelliarmus!" Lavender had said, and the Death Eater on her side, caught completely off guard, had tumbled forward, his wand flying across the room..

The echo of a thought had almost distracted Parvati. Something about loss of synchronicity, or something like a whispered "too late."

The Death Eater on Parvati´s side had fallen too. As Lavender had rushed down the stairs, she´d cast the briefest of glances back at Parvati. Of course, Parvati had thought, that´s exactly the spell I should have used. Of course.

Lavender had then done a petrifying spell on the Death Eater she´d disarmed, when he´d begun to move menacingly toward her. Glancing again at Parvati, she had then hurried over to Hermione, whose face was twisted in pain.

When Ron, Harry, Snape, McGonagall and Dumbledore had rushed into the room seconds later, it hadn´t take long for them to figure out most of what had happened. McGonagall had asked Lavender if anyone else was in the dorms, as she´d hurried to where Hermione lay on the floor. Ron and Harry had both sworn as they´d glanced at the Death Eaters on the floor, and had then rushed over to Hermione too. Snape had inspected the Death Eaters in turn, his eyes narrowing slightly, while Dumbledore, who seemed to have taken it all in the moment he´d enter the common room, had slowly turned his gaze to Parvati. Parvati hadn´t moved since she´d cast her spell. Motionless at the top of the stairs, her wand had still been pointing to where the Death Eater had stood. "Get Miss Granger to the Hospital now, if you would, Minerva," Dumbledore had said, turning his back on Parvati and addressing the rest of them. "It´s still under heavy guard, like the hall. You can apparate to the entrance, for now, at least. Ron, Harry, you may go to the Hospital wing too, but I think Professor Snape should accompany you there. Severus, I trust you can get the..." Here Dumbledore had paused for a moment. "The petrified wizard to the unbreakable cell the aurors have set up, in the dungeons."

Snape apparently had wanted to say something, but glancing at Parvati, he´d thought better of it. "I will take care of Miss Brown and Miss Patil for the moment," the Headmaster had said. "We need to begin the process of realigning the protective magic soon, however. We meet in an hour, in the hall. I´ll tell the others in the Hospital momentarily. You inform the teachers around the hall."

Snape had put another binding spell on the Death Eater, for good measure. "Follow," he´d rasped to Ron and Harry, levitating the petrified wizard out of the Gryffindor common room.

Of course, Parvati had thought, that´s the spell I should have used. But it wasn´t.

Lavender had stood then beside Dumbledore, at the bottom of the stairs. She´s crying, Parvati had noticed. Everyone else had left. Everyone that could.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

She´d noticed that, suddenly, a number of aurors had entered the room, some looking at the body on the floor, some talking to Dumbledore, and some staring at her. She´d not seen them come in.

Parvati´s head had drooped, and she´d found herself sitting, although she hadn´t remembered or felt herself moving at all. I am not here. I have disappeared.

Parvati hadn´t been able to tell anything that was being said, but it had sounded angry, exasperated, horrified, surprised, and any number of things.

Why are you standing over me like that?

Am I okay? Parvati had thought, when she´d felt someone sit down beside her. That´s Lavender I can smell her shampoo. Dumbledore must have freed her from the aurors. That´s her arm on my shoulders, her hair on my neck.

"Oh, Parv," she´d said. Parv. Who´s Parv?

Dumbledore and the aurors had broken off, Parvati had thought, still hunched on the stairs, not looking. Now what?

Someone else was standing on her other side. The Headmaster? Oh dear. That´s serious, then.

No one is saying anything anymore, Parvati had realized.

After a little, Parvati had gotten up, turned around, placed her wand on the step between her best friend and the Headmaster, and oblivious to everything else, had walked over the person she´d just cursed out of existence.

They haven´t moved the body, she´d said to herself, because...

This is mine, this. This is what I have done. I own this.

On reaching the body of the dead Death Eater, she´d noticed the aurors, presumably, had left the hood pulled back. It doesn´t matter, she had thought, that I don´t know him. If I had, would it have made any difference at all?

After just a few seconds, Dumbledore and Lavender had taken her by the arms and led her to the hospital wing. That was something she only knew had happened. She didn´t remember that part at all.

After telling the story to herself, in no matter how unsatisfactory a way, Parvati could sleep, her frustration at having to go through the ritual replaced with a sinking feeling surrounded by silent darkness - her new, strange comfort.