Signs and Portents

"Are you ready?" Harry asked, walking into the bedroom.

Parvati turned to him with an amused look on her face. She was still wearing her bathrobe. "Yes, quite," she said, striking a pose. "Glamorous, is it not?"

Harry tried to work up some sort of annoyance at the fact that it was time to leave and his wife had not even begun dressing, but she flipped her long dark hair and struck another dramatic model's pose and Harry could only smile bemusedly as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

She graced him with a beautiful, wide smile. "It will not take me long, Harry," she said. Seeing him arch his eyebrow in rebuttal, she scoffed. "Oh, Harry! Our wedding does not count!"

Harry thought it was wisest to say nothing.

Parvati undid her robe with a flourish, tossing it to Harry, revealing that she was wearing a bright pink brassiere and matching silk knickers. This caused Harry's eyes to widen slightly. She must have bought those especially for the occasion, because I would remember if she had worn them before. I think we may have to leave the reception early.... She sat down at her dressing table, picked up her silver hairbrush, and began brushing out her hair.

Harry watched as she made her locks shine and then somehow in one motion managed to put her hair up with a few tendrils hanging loose around her face - just the way he liked it. How does she do that? I wonder if she's put a charm on her hair clip?

Next she opened her jewellery box and pulled out filigree dangly earrings and carefully put them in her ears. She followed the earrings with an ornate necklace and multitudes of bangles - some gold, some white, some red, slipping each on singularly. When she was finished, she turned to Harry, winked, and did a traditional Indian dance move with her arms so they tinkled, hinting at something pleasurable that would be coming later.

Harry grinned and stretched back on the bed, making himself comfortable. She's drawn me in so completely to her world. When I first visited her home I felt the same as when I first entered Diagon Alley. Everything was so different from what I had known growing up, so vibrant and full of promise.

Harry smiled as he thought of what his Aunt Petunia would have thought of his and Parvati's wedding. The boisterous atmosphere, the exuberant dancing, Parvati's bright red sari and, of course, the magical fireworks at the reception. Parvati was not only a witch, she was exotic. No, Aunt Petunia would not have approved at all. The world of the Dursleys' was one Harry had left without regrets.

Parvati pulled out her kohl pencil and began outlining her eyes as she sang a bit of song in Hindi. She powdered her face, placed a bindi on her forehead and added the red sindoor powder to the part in her hair. Lastly, she painted her lips a burnished red. She stood and made a show of kissing a handkerchief and then throwing it to Harry. He caught the lipstick-marked handkerchief and kissed it dramatically before placing it in his pocket.

I never thought I would have something like this. Not that it has been easy, but I can't deny that I am a lucky man. Well, Parvati's favourite Professor would never call me lucky, but she is blind to so much. Harry patted the pocket where the handkerchief was. Whatever may happen in the future, at least we had this time. And this is something that Voldemort could never know, understand or take away.

She blew him a kiss and stood up; reaching for the sari slip she had already taken out, she pulled it on, tying the drawstring firmly. Her sari blouse was next and Harry automatically stood and hooked the back for her, kissing the back of her neck as he did so. One of his hands made a move for the front of the sari blouse, but she light-heartedly slapped his hand away.

"We don't want to be late," she said.

"We're already late," he pointed out.

"My sari, please," she said, skirting the issue.

Harry carefully picked up the bright pink and green sari that was woven with threads of gold silk and held it as she grasped an end and tucked it into waistband of her slip. Harry observed, slightly awed, as she then tucked, pleated and folded the bountiful amount of fabric into a perfectly draped sari. She threw the last bit of fabric over her shoulder with a flourish; picking up a gold brooch she gathered the silk and pinned it the shoulder of her blouse so it would stay up.

She moved in front of the full-length mirror and studied her image. "Do you think I used too many pleats? Do I look fat?"

Harry knew how to answer this question and did not hesitate, "No, it's perfect. You do not look fat. In fact, you have never looked fat. You look stunning as always."

She put a hand on her hip and arched a dark brow. "Harry, you just have that response memorized; that's what you always say."

"I always say it because it is always true," he countered.

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh, Harry!" she exclaimed. "I shall let it go this time, because we're almost late."

"We're not almost late, we're twenty minutes late," Harry said, eying his watch.

Parvati scoffed. "By Indian Standard Time, we're early then!" she said happily as she clasped an anklet on her bare leg and gave it a little shake in Harry's direction. "I just have to see what sandals to wear...."

"Oh, no," Harry groaned.

Parvati tossed a pair of sandals at Harry. "Hrumph!" she said, as she delved deeper into the closet.

Harry caught the sandals. "These are nice, why don't you wear these?"

Parvati stopped her search and turned around to Harry, giving him an incredulous look. "You can NOT be serious. They're the wrong style and they're purple! It would throw my entire aura off for the wedding!"

"We wouldn't want that...might mean doom for Ron and Hermione's relationship," Harry murmured, pushing the sandals under the bed with his foot.

"I heard that!"

"Sorry?"

Parvati, having found acceptable sandals, turned and slipped them on. "You're not supposed to say it as a question, Harry," she said with a small smile. "But you're forgiven."

"Thank you?"

"You're pushing your luck."

"According to your favourite Hogwarts professor, I'm doomed as it is."

Parvati's face tightened. "Professor Trelawney Sees much, but she does not see everything. There are always alternative futures...."

Harry stood and walked over to his wife. "Shhh," he said gently, wrapping one of her long, black tendrils around his finger. "I was joking."

Parvati gave a shrug, trying to free herself from the sudden foreboding feeling that had encircled her. "I know. I'm being silly. You're obviously the luckiest man alive - being married to me," she said cheerily, forcing the gloomy feeling away.

"Yes, I am," Harry said, grinning. He leaned in and kissed Parvati passionately. His hands moved to her waist.

He broke off the kiss. "We could be a bit late," he said, his hand moving to the brooch holding her sari to her blouse.

"Harry! We would be more than a little late, even by Indian Standard time."

"They can't start the wedding without us, I have both rings."

"I don't know, Harry..." Parvati said, but her protests were countered with kisses she decided not to refuse for they would definitely give her a glowing aura for the wedding.

~*~ A Year Later ~*~

Lavender knocked lightly on the bedroom door. "Parvati?" she asked quietly.

"Come in," Parvati answered.

Lavender walked into the room. Parvati was sitting at her dressing table, still wearing a bathrobe.

"It's almost time to go," Lavender said softly.

Parvati nodded, but didn't move.

Lavender went to her and picked up her silver hairbrush and began brushing her best friend's hair. "A braid?"

"Yes. But leave some tendrils hanging loose in the front. Harry likes -" Parvati choked back a sob. "Harry liked it that way."

Lavender chewed her lower lip as she held back her own sob. "Parvati, I'm so sorry...."

"I know, I know. Don't cry, Lav, please," Parvati said, wiping her own wayward tears away with that back of her hand. "I hope you can remember a waterproof charm, because I can't...and I was going to look through my notes earlier, but I...."

"Shhh," Lavender said. "I know it." She finished braiding Parvati's hair and put the silver brush back.

"Thank you," Parvati said quietly as she picked up her kohl pencil and tried to outline her eyes with a shaky hand. She gave up with a shake of her head and Lavender picked up the pencil and carefully applied the kohl to Parvati's eyes, powdered her face and painted her lips lightly. She picked up the small tin of sindoor and Parvati shook her head.

"Widows don't wear it," she said forlornly.

Lavender quickly put the tin down and murmured apologies.

Parvati patted her friend's hand. "It's okay. Can you go make tea? I could use a cup of tea before we go," she said, seeking to keep Lavender's discomfort at a minimum.

"Yes, of course," Lavender said and she quickly slipped out of the bedroom.

Parvati stood and took off her bathrobe, remembering how Harry had watched her dressing for Ron and Hermione's wedding and she had teased him. Smiling at the memory, she walked over to Harry's dresser, opened the top drawer and there it was. The handkerchief with the lipstick print on it. Unwashed. For a year, he had saved it. Tears began to roll down her face even as she continued to smile.

She walked to the bed and stepped into her slip. Her tears continued to roll down her cheeks unchecked as she picked up the plain white cotton sari. She looked toward her open closet at the wide array of colourful saris that were hanging in it. Just two days ago the sight of them would have made her smile; after all, she had them arranged in order of the colours of the rainbow to maximize the harmony of the room. Now they seemed to be taunting her. Reminding her that her life was now blank - empty, just like the white cotton of the sari she had begun putting on.

The colourful saris taunted her as she tucked, pleated and draped the plain white fabric. They mocked her tarot readings, her crystal ball gazing, the hours she had spent charting their star charts, the fact that she had read Harry's tea leaves every morning before he left for work - so diligently she had ignored the signs and portents that she hadn't wished to see. She had interpreted them as she wanted them to be, not as they were.

She finished dressing and closed the closet door, refusing to let the colourful saris torment her any longer. She walked back to Harry's dresser and pulled out the handkerchief with the lipstick mark on it. She tucked it into the waist of her sari and walked out of the bedroom.

"I'm ready," she said quietly.

~ The end ~