Confessions: A Tale of Locked Doors and Deception

CHAPTER THE SECOND

December 7^th is a milestone of my year. Not only my birthday, as well as my sisters', but I had another 'tutorial' that day. A Saturday, I returned from Hogsmeade, my bag filled with sweets, butterbeer and miscellaneous artifacts from the outing.

When I entered the room, I noticed an anxiety in those gray eyes. My love could not be anxious! Mournful, joyous, but never anxious, or anything but valiant. But it left as I entered the room and he greeted me.

"Good evening Parvati. Happy birthday". A few months ago I would have swooned. Seven weeks ago I had ceased to be 'Miss Patil' or 'Patil, Parvati', but my first name, and the acknowledgment of my birthday was no big surprise, we had often gone off-course and discussed our personal lives. I took my seat, not in any mood for studying. I offered him a butterbeer, which he in turn took, and we sat on the window seat in the classroom and talked. I asked him what plagued his mind. He laughed and said that nothing was the matter. But I persisted.

"Parvati, you're a persuasive young woman. But I needn't bother you with things none of us can do anything about." His voice trailed off, and I saw such a longing in his eyes, it disturbed me. Noticing his owl in her cage, I inquired of his family.

"Meddie is a dear. We grew up together, went to school together. We were always very close friends. Why, it was only natural... not that it would have been what I would have chosen..." There. He had said it. He didn't love her! His voice had trailed off again, and he looked at me with a bemused half smile.

"Parvati, I shouldn't be telling you these things. You're here to work, not to listen to an old man talk about life and boring matter such as that." I told him it didn't bore me. We continued. We spoke of the crisis in the ministry, of his Hogwarts days, of many things that I cannot remember. What I do know is that many hours passed. It had grown dark outside, by the position of the moon, I could only assume it was 9:30, half an hour before curfew.

There was a lull in our conversation. The faint embers of the fireplace provided the only light in the room. The glow cast shadows across my love's face, and in his eyes, I could see desire, unmasked by the flickering shadows. For once, I dared to look him straight into those eyes, the windows to his soul, and I tried to get a glimpse of him. But it was in vain, for those lids shut and before I knew what was happening, his lips were against mine, his arms around my waist. He tasted sweet, of butterbeer, and he smelled of wood chips and chimney smoke. I had kissed boys before, but it had never been like this. As our mouths pressed into each other's, I could feel our very beings meshing into one.

The kiss was filled with such passion, but with the softness I saw often in his eyes, and it seemed to last forever. But then it broke off, slowly, gradually, and I demurely opened my lids to gaze into the eyes that I so loved. But instead of the desire that I had seen before, or the ardor I had hoped to see, I saw nothing but panic, betrayal, and confusion. I reached my hand to touch him, trying to offer console, but he flinched away, as one might recoil from a slap. He backed away, and fear finally struck me. I was kissing a married man! Not only a married man, but my teacher! We store at one another for a moment, the horror surrounding us, and eventually, I gathered my senses, slung my bag over my shoulder and ran back to my common room.

***

Safe, within the curtains of my four-poster my head finally cleared. This man, this person whom I was in love with was old enough to be my father! What was worse, I would have to face him every day for at least another six or seven months. But what disturbed me the most was that I wanted to. No, that wasn't it. It disturbed me, but not as much as the look on his face. It is an expression that I sometimes see in my nightmares, even now. Why had he recoiled?

I was attractive enough, with honey-brown skin, large hazel eyes, long eyelashes and straight, dark brown hair. I had high cheekbones, thin lips and a defined chin, and I thought my physique was appealing enough. More so than pixie-girl, anyway. His wife. Suddenly it occurred to me that he was married, he had made the vows to love, hold and keep her, and he had broken those in the room just then. I had ruined his honor, and if we

were to be found out, his reputation.

***

I dreaded that class on Monday. I longed for that back seat where one can go unnoticed by the teacher, like a part of the background. But no, I had to be front and center, damn it! My eyes were never so engrossed with my parchment, as they were that day, except when I would sneak the occasional glimpse at him. Every time, I would find his wolf's eyes boring into mine.

I contemplated being sick on Tuesday evening. I would rather spend the night in the stale, chalky infirmary than with the dreaded. But rumor had it that a few Hufflepuffs and come down with the 'dragon pox', and there was no way I was going to spend the next two weeks covered in green sores, even if it did mean facing my fears. So with trembling knees, I sucked in my inhibitions as I trudged to Remus' room.

All the resolve I had nearly left me as I stood outside the heavy oak door of his office. I was all but ready to turn and run when the hinges creaked open and I saw the very person I feared, standing in the doorway, the gray eyes once again filled with compassion and composure. I followed him in and he sat in his chair behind the desk. Sighing, he looked up at me wearily. He said,

"Miss Patil, I apologize for the way I acted the other night. I overstepped the boundaries existing between student and teacher, and I assure you it will not happen again." Not to mention that he was married. But was I content? Of course not.

"Why?" He looked up at me in alarm.

"Why what?"

"Why did you do it? And why never again?" he shot me a quizzical look, but spoke, very softly.

"I... you're a beautiful young woman, Miss Patil. Smart, kind, charismatic, any man would find you attractive, and I... the main point is, it was wrong and it will not occur again - ever!" He was angry, but not at me, at himself. I could see the battle going on inside his head. But I realized that it meant that he had feelings for me. Hop reborn, I ventured forwards.

"You don't lover her, do you?" When he turned around again, I saw nothing but despair.

"Medugorje and I were... involved in our Hogwarts days. She was a very good friend, and upon graduation we promised that if we were not married by the time we were thirty-five years old, we would tie the knot. Do I love her with a raging passion? I would be lying if I said that I do. But I am fond of her, and she makes an excellent wife and mother. But as much as I've tried, I don't lover her. I can't love her." It would have been presumptuous for me to assume that he loved me, but I did know that he desired me, that I was more than a student to him. So I slowly approached his turned back and lightly rested a hand on his slumped shoulder. He turned, and craning my neck, I gently lay my lips on his.

He did not resist until I moved my other arm behind his neck, when he abruptly pulled away.

"No, we're not going to do this!"

"But, Remus, we are." He was startled at the sound of his first name from my lips, and to be perfectly honest, I was shocked at my daring as well. He knew now that I wanted him. I could see the eagerness behind the frown that was contorting his handsome features.

"I'm old enough to be your father. It's not right..."

"Nobody has to know." I whispered this. I could hardly believe my daring.

"Parvati, what do you want from an old man? There are plenty of handsome boys in this school, you could be with any of them."

"But I want you, Remus." This time, it was he who approached me. With a flick of his wand, the door locked, and the candles extinguished. He took my hand and silently led me to a door, which he opened. A small room was revealed, adorned with a wardrobe, a set of drawers, and a bed. Once again locking the door, he grabbed me by the waist and drove his mouth into mine. A kiss so full of passion, I returned it with equal, if not exceeding, vigor. I sank into such a delirium; the last thing I remember is leaning back onto his bed, his face blocking out my vision.

***

We did not make love that night, nor do anything more than kiss. At eight forty-five, I waltzed back to the common room, my hair and clothes in disarray, and did my homework with an extra ornate script. No one seemed to notice much, though Lavender pressed to why I was not so focused with my Divination, and how I could be so elated when Mars was in alignment with Neptune in the fourth house, or something like that.

It's amazing how much one will miss, even if you dangle it two inches before his or her nose.