Confessions: A Tale of Locked Doors and Deception

CHAPTER THE SIXTH

February 14^th finally drew near. The cauldron, hidden in a corner of our dormitory, was emptied into five small vaporizer bottles. Each of us had enough of Eros' Ambrosia to play with the hearts of six people, making it thirty in total. All attempting not to look too guilty, we set off for breakfast to begin our day of havoc-wreaking.

I was never sure why, but Snape always sat to Remus's right, and across from Sprout. It would fortunately make things easier for me.

"Neville! Come with me to ask Sprout a question." Giving me a quizzical look, Neville obliged, and clumsily trod off to the staff table. He stood to Sprout's left as I stood behind Snape. As I had supposed, they quickly struck up a conversation upon whatever we were to grow that day. Snape's greasy head hulked over his plate as he tried to avoid conversation. With a disgusted look at his tangled mop of hair, I quickly sprayed the nape of his revealed, greenish neck thrice, enough to last twelve hours. I held my breath as he raised his head and his eyes rested on Neville, in a glassy gaze. Elated, I pulled Neville back to the Gryffindor table, aiming the bottle at a few helpless Slytherins.

"What was that all about?"

"I wanted to walk by the Ravenclaw table. That David Cassia is a dream," I lied, through my teeth. Double Potions were next; the anticipation nearly drove me mad as Snape's eyes followed Neville out of the Great Hall.

***

It was by far the most amusing Potions class I had ever attended. Malfoy and Goyle were fawning over Ron (a stroke of brilliance on Caeleen's part), while Seamus seemed unusually interested in the Slytherin "bint", Blaise Zabini. But as facetious as this may have been, it was far outshone by Snape's newfound amour. Never mind that he (Snape) was wearing a pink cloak. Pink.

"Mr. Longbottom, would you be as kind as to move your desk next to mine?" Trembling, Neville moved his books and cauldron, prepared for humiliation. He was not, however, prepared for a serenade, complete with lyre accompaniment. Or a bouquet of enchanted pink and red flashing carnations. Or fifty points to Gryffindor for being 'Dangerously Sexy'.

Naturally, the rest of the class took the opportunity to carry on, snog in the corners, and anything else they could get away with. I took the part of a spectator; sitting in the back while practically being part of the scenery. Only one was I recognized - as I glanced around the room, I saw a man, grey eyes dancing, lurking by the door.

***

That night was spent with Remus, and was perhaps the same as any other. At eleven-thirty, I snuck back to the dormitory with as much stealth as possible. If I was caught out of bed, not only would it be disastrous for Gryffindor, but also for Remus and me. I would be questioned as to why I was out of bed, and any possibility at all of his connection... There had been several close calls, in which I would be narrowly missed by Mrs. Norris' prowling eyes or by Peeves as he bounced down the hall in search of mischief. But none would be as close as that which occurred that night.

As I was one hall away from the portrait hole, over the balcony I saw a swirling black cloak on the level below me. I flattened myself against the dusty floor and army-crawled to the open door across the hall as the cloak swept up the stairs. Looking through a crack in the stone wall, I saw Snape bend over in the hallway, glance around, then continue down the corridor in the opposite direction from the Fat Lady.

***

The next day, Snape was especially harsh to Neville, and even more hostile to the rest of the Gryffindors. I knew he suspected someone of something, but he couldn't accuse anything until he had solid evidence to conclude such a thing. Naturally, the school remained in an uproar for quite a while. Even Trelawney could hardly contain herself when she would descend from her mystical haven, only to see Snape pass by.

Of course, since the beginning of the year, I had lost all interest in divination. If there was some divine fate, why would it have been so impossibly difficult for me to exclusively have the one thing I wanted? No, there was no fate; only men and what they did with their lives. It was, therefore, my life, with which to do as I chose. But I continued to study Divination as I was too lazy to change my schedule, though it bored me. I had some possession of 'the Inner Eye', so I still retained my grades, just with the absence of enthusiasm that Trelawney had so admired in years past.

It was Trelawney who first set doubts in my mind about my decisions, and if my relationship should have been present in the least. One late February day, while crystal-gazing, I went into a trance; a fairly regular occurrence. Though Trelawney might imply otherwise, one never sees direct messages in the orb; it is always shapes that are symbolic and must be interpreted. There were three major ideas that I clearly remember: The first, a skull that symbolized death. The second was a red handkerchief - betrayal, and third, and angel, which commonly meant rebirth. The third confused me; could I have been seeing the future of the wizarding race? But no, Trelawney announced the coming of my death if I did not embrace my calling. I finally realized that the woman was psychotic.

Whereas Harry had previously been, I was the new target. Death predictions ten times a day were regular occurrences. What were not, however, were hostile confrontations with my sister. She had been one of my many close calls; after my nightly visits I would sometimes see her patrolling the hallways on Prefect Duty. I never did think she would catch me, as she was so often with Roger. 'Prefect Duty' - it was more like 'Duty Roger'. I was obviously mistaken, as she soon approached me in the library as I researched for Potions.

"Nice try, Parvati." Menacingly, she leaned on the table across form me. As I always did in the face of danger, I feigned innocence.

"For what, Padma? How goes it with Roggie?"

"Don't try that. I've known you your entire life; I know how your mind works. And I also know how you're really spending your evenings."

"So you know about Warrington?" When in doubt, throw out a lifeline. Unfortunately, she did know me too well. She hissed,

"'Vati, you know that won't work either. I know about you and Lupin, and honestly, you're lucky that I've kept it quiet."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"No, never tell. You'd hate me forever. Plus, it would ruin the family name. But I've kept the area free to patrol; I say "Lupin said he'd take care of it." Do you realize how wrong this is? It's illegal, it's immoral... it's disgusting! Quite honestly, the very idea makes me want to vomit."

"Padma - what would you do if it was you and Roger? Can't you see? I love him."

"Love him!? You can't even compare, 'Vati, Roger is our age, plus he's not married. How can you love him, you're sixteen! You don't know what love is! But I can tell you one thing: Love is certainly not a tumble with someone who shouldn't even be interested if he was mentally stable." I was outraged. It took every ounce of reserve that I possessed to prevent myself from slapping her across the face.

"There is nothing wrong with him, and there is nothing wrong with us. I love Remus, even though I know I shouldn't. But I will tell you one thing: Sister or no, if you mention this again, I will do whatever is in my power to make your life miserable." And with a flip of my hair, I gathered my books and left for a place of comfort: Remus' Room.

***

"Remus, they know." He looked up from his book and a frown furrowed his brows.

"Know what, 'Vati? Oh, God, not -" he jumped up from his chair and held my wrists tightly. "Who? How much? Oh, Merlin, I should have known."

"Calm down, Remus, it's not as bad as that. Just Padma - she told me she knew, but I don't know. But no one else does, it's just that she's my twin, and knows -"

"If a sixteen-year-old girl could find out, anyone could. And with gossip, soon everyone will know! Merlin, what are we going to do?"

"We'll - we'll have to... stop. Remus, it's the only way -"

"No!" He squeezed my hands in his own, his eyes filled with anxiety. Taking a deep breath, he said, "'Vati, the only thing that would keep me from you would be if you didn't want me to. But I'd never -"

"Even to save yourself?" He shook his head fervently. I stopped him and said,

"It doesn't matter. Padma won't say anything - she's covering it up, even. And as for everyone else - well, they needn't know if we use even more caution. I'll make sure to get back in time - before curfew. And you - oh, I don't know. This is all my fault."

"Of course it's not, Parvati," he said, and he kissed me. But I had to pull away - there was too much to risk at four in the afternoon. His eyes hid his disappointment well, and I could almost hear him think, Later, my love. Later.