Thoughts on a Hazy Summer Aftenoon

Thoughts on a Hazy, Summer Afternoon

I don’t know why people think I’m horrible.

How am I, Padma Patil, supposed to know why people at Hogwarts don’t like me?

I suppose some of it has to do with my twin, Parvati. Though she is my twin, and I love her dearly, she is a bit of a ditz, and a gossip, and a tease…and many other things that aren’t really allowed to be said or thought of. And, unfortunately, since I am her physical carbon copy, people think I’m just like her.

Or maybe it has to do with the fact that Ernie MacMillan, my former boy friend (for about two weeks) spread horrible, horrible rumors about me in the beginning of fourth year.

And it also could have been the fact that Mandy Brocklehurst, my mortal enemy, helped carry those rumors along.

It could have been a thousand things that had to do with this loathing, but, all in all, Hogwarts hates me. And that’s really the worst thing that can happen to a student that goes there.

Of course, I think that a lot of people didn’t really remember that they hated me at the end of last year, what with Voldemort, the most powerful, evil wizard to come along in centuries, rising, Cedric Diggory dying at the end of the Triwizard Tournament (an inter-school tournament that lasts school year round), and all of that. I think that my fourth year was definitely the most tumultuous so far.

But now, I don’t really have to worry about those things. Well, I do, of course, because Voldemort is on the loose, and my life may be in danger, but the idea of Voldemort coming to my house in the middle of London, crowded as it is, with LOADS of potential witnesses, is quite far-fetched. So, I can lay quietly on my bed, as I am doing now, and cry my eyes out during summer holidays, because people at school hate me.

Of course, at school, I do have friends. Lisa Turpin, Terry Boot, Hannah Abbot, and Susan Bones, to name a few. Our band is very tight-knit, and in our two houses, we’re known as "the troublemakers" of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. We each have our role in our group, as well. I’m the smart one who maps out our plans. Lisa and Terry are the daredevils, always willing to pull off the craziest of stunts. Hannah is the sweet, innocent one, who, unfortunately for her, is always a decoy or distraction. And Susan…she’s the one who usually just goes along with everything.

I miss our escapades, things such as sneaking into the kitchens, blackmailing people who we catch snogging in the Astronomy Tower, and so on, and so on…now that I think of it, no wonder people hate me.

I should stop crying, I really should. Before anyone like mum, or dad, or Parvati, or even my older brother, Rajiv, walks in. I especially don’t want Rajiv to see me like this. Parvati is mum and dad’s favorite, and that’s a fact, but I’m Rajiv’s favorite.

Poor Rajiv. He’s always looked down upon, in my family. For my dad, it’s because he’s not smart (like me) or incredibly charming (like Parvati), but a very, VERY, openly rebellious type. Yes, I’m a troublemaker, but I make sure never to get caught. Rajiv is so bad, and also so bad about covering up his crimes, that he’s been sent to about three reform schools, all in the countryside of England. Dad makes sure never to talk to him when he has get-togethers with his colleagues, only of Parvati, and occasionally of me.

Mother looks down on Rajiv because, unfortunately, he has no magical ability whatsoever. It really IS kind of strange of mother, to not like her son as much because he can’t do magic, when she married a muggle herself. But, haplessly, she doesn’t like him. I think it’s probably because she’s ashamed of herself more than of Rajiv. She came from one of the most renowned pure blood families in India, married a muggle, and gave birth to a non-magical son first thing. The shame she must have felt! The despair, that her parents had told her never to marry a muggle or disastrous things would happen! The irony that they were right in the end! That must have been more than my mother could bear. Poor, poor mother.

Really, I don’t think that it’s so bad, but, considering what mother was brought up with, I can understand why mother feels so horrible about her son.

By now, I’ve stopped crying, but my eyes are considerably more red than usual. Tears have made almost transparent paths down my cheeks, small, dried up salt rivers. I really should clean myself up, but I don’t feel like it. I feel like laying on my bed with the cerulean comforter and staring out the window, into the hazy London fog, the very thing I am doing now.

Though I try to get my mind off the subject, the unconventional organ in my head still drifts back to Hogwarts, and the abhorrence that exists there. I think of Mandy, my arch nemesis. The angelic-looking Mandy, with golden-hair and bright, sky-blue eyes. Skinny, pretty Mandy. The supposedly innocent Mandy. God, I hate her.

She doesn’t seem all that bad from her description, does she? But she is. She’s terrible. She, and her best friend, Morag MacDougal, are a couple of wenches. If anyone could compare us to a pair of enemies, they would only have to find Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy to know of our hatred towards each other.

I remember exactly how we became enemies, of course. I always remember instances like that. It was because of Parvati, naturally.

Parvati and I are the raving beauties of our year, at least, Parvati is, and since I’m her twin, people assume that we’re both stunning. Parvati is actually the pretty one out of both of us, simply because she has an enormous abundance of confidence, and I do not. But, getting to the point, we’re simply considered pretty and exotic. Mandy is second to us, and very resentful of that fact. Parvati knows it, and loves to flaunt it in her face. And, because she can’t get close enough to Parvati to really retaliate to Parvati’s insults, she takes it out on me, because, conveniently, I am Parvati’s twin, as well as her roommate.

Of course, I’m not the kind of person who lets anyone insult her. I get my revenge. So Mandy and I have had an ongoing battle between us since second year, around the time when Parvati realized that she was drop-dead gorgeous.

Sometimes, when Parvati flaunts her beauty or makes herself look like a fool to catch the eye of a boy, I really want to slap her. She can be so incompetent and insubstantial sometimes, the very thing that a stereotypical Ravenclaw like myself scorns. When I see her batting her eyes in front of Harry Potter, or getting an answer wrong in the Ancient Runes class I have with her, I simply want to cringe. Sometimes, I am ashamed of my sister.

But sometimes, when we’re home, during the summer holidays, when we’re sharing a room again and whispering secrets to each other in the dark, I’m happy that I have Parvati. I know, deep down in my heart, that she is the best that she can be, and I love her for it. I can be contented with nothing else.

"Padma?"

Shoot. I’ve been discovered.

Rajiv saunters into the room, his olive eyes concerned.

"Padma, is something wrong?"

I stare out the window again. I can barely see any of the urban landscape, due to the foggy, summer weather that England is best known for.

"Yes," I say, my tone monotonous.

"Well then, what is it?" Rajiv really does have a way with getting his point across.

"It’s about school," I say reluctantly, "Everyone hates me there."

"I don’t believe you," states Rajiv assuredly.

"Ask Parvati. She’ll tell you. No one likes me there now. Everyone has been spreading rumors about me, since the Easter holidays. About how I’m a tease, how I’m a know-it-all, worst than Hermione Granger – "

"Hermione Granger?"

"She’s this bossy girl that goes to my school," I explain, "I like her, but not a lot of other people do. But that’s not the point. The point is that no one likes me anymore, no thanks to Ernie and Mandy – "

"Who are they?"

"Mandy is my arch nemesis, and Ernie was a former boyfriend."

"Wait," says Rajiv, trying to take everything in, "You date?"

I swat him on the back. "Stop trying to be funny."

"My little sister is growing up!"

"I shouldn’t have said that," I say to myself.

"So, basically, you’re trying to tell me that everyone hates you," he remarks, "Well, frankly Padma, I can’t see how that is possible."

"Stop trying to be nice," I insist.

"No, it’s true. You’re a lovely person, Padma. You’re honest, nice, a genius, and you care about others. I can’t imagine anyone hating a person like that. And you’re hearing all of that from a self-ordained convict."

I giggle at that last remark.

"Now come on, Padma, Parvati and I are going down to Harrods for a bit of window shopping. Hope they don’t kick us out if we need to use a toilet in one of the stores."

I grin. Rajiv has a way with making everything better.

He holds out his hand, and I take it. He lifts me off my bed, off of a pillow drenched with tears. Though nothing has really been solved, I feel lighter, more carefree.

We walk out of the room, hand in hand, down the stair, and into the hazy, summer