Chapter 7 – Parvati’s Fate
by Poppy P
A/N: Another quotation challenge! There’s a
line in here from Disney’s “Tarzan”. Find it and give me an e-mail: alatmig@netzero.net , for a cameo in the
fic’s finale. Also, if you have read my other story, “Padma’s Quest” it would
give you a hint of the Parvati’s end in this fic. Not that I’m plugging or
anything, no, I am! A great, big thanks to Z and Soupytwist for beta-ing.
They’re awesome! And here’s to the ROXin’ new Quill. As Z says, change is good
; )
If you're lost you can look
and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you,
I will be waiting
Time after time
Cyndi Lauper, Time After Time
Billy pushed on the inside of the cupboard door
and tumbled out, stretching and groaning. “Damn! Who knew Aunt Hermione and
Uncle Harry could talk so long, eh Petra?…Petra?”
Petra emerged from the cupboard and fixed Billy
with a hard stare. “What do you know about my father?” she demanded.
Billy’s blue eyes widened with uncertainty. “I
know about as much as you do, I reckon.”
Petra got up very close to Billy. She was at least
a head taller than him and he had to lean his head back to look her in the eye.
“How. Did. He. Die?”
“Death Eaters killed him!” said Billy, his voice
sounding high and panicky.
“Why?” asked Petra, grabbing him by the shoulders
and shaking him roughly. His reddish-blond hair flopped in his eyes.
“W-what do you mean, ‘why’?” asked Billy through
rattling teeth. “He was in the Order! What other excuse did they need?”
Petra let go of him, pushing him back in her
frustration. Billy winced as he hit the wall. “I’m not lying Petra. That’s all
I know. I can ask Dad again though. He might be able to tell us more.”
“Don’t bother,” said Petra coldly as she made her
way out of the staff room. “I’m going to find out myself. Tonight.”
Billy trailed behind her, struggling to keep up
with Petra’s long, purposeful strides. “Look Petra, I know you’re upset about
what you heard in there…”
“Don’t worry about it,” she cut him off, answering
in monotone.
“What are you going to do?”
“None of your business.”
“Are you going to write to Uncle Ron?”
“No.”
“Are you going to talk to Aunt Hermione?”
“No.”
“Where are you going?”
“Go away, Billy!”
Billy hung back for a few seconds, digging into
the pocket of his robes. Petra heard his steps quicken as he ran to catch up to
her again. “Here’s your contact lenses,” he said, holding out a tiny package.
“Sorry I was such a prat.”
Petra paused to look at the package in his hand.
“Keep them,” she said dully.
Billy gaped at her, his eyes round with shock.
“But I…I thought you hated your glasses.”
“There are worse things than wearing glasses.
Like…” her voice broke and she clenched her eyes tightly, willing herself to
take control, “like knowing that you’re responsible for breaking up someone’s
marriage…”
“Petra…” began Billy, his voice filled with pity.
“Leave me alone!” she hissed, batting the box out
of Billy’s hand and resuming her walk.
For several minutes, the only sounds Petra heard
were her own hollow footsteps and the pounding of her heart. Good, she
thought as she approached the corridor that led to the staircase up to
Gryffindor Tower, perhaps he finally got the message.
Petra had just about reached the staircase when
Billy ran up, grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her through a nearby
tapestry. “What the…”
“Ssh!” Billy cut her off. “I think I heard
Malfoy,” he whispered.
Petra’s blood turned to ice as she heard the
sounds of footsteps coming up the corridor. If Malfoy caught them out of their
dorm after hours, they would certainly be stuck in detention for the rest of
the school year.
Draco Malfoy was the school caretaker. Rumor had
it that Malfoy had come from an old, rich, wizarding family who lost everything
in the war due to their involvement with the Dark Side. It was said that
Malfoy’s own father had stripped him of his magical ability after he failed to
complete an important Death Eater assignment.
After the war, Malfoy had managed to avoid a
prison sentence by implicating many of Voldemort’s followers. Penniless,
friendless and helpless as a Muggle, he had pleaded with Professor McGonagall
to give him a position at Hogwarts. When the old caretaker retired, Malfoy
replaced him. He spent his days and most of his nights roaming the castle,
giving students detention for the slightest infractions. He was always
accompanied by his foul, flat-faced cat, Miss P. Some people said Miss P was a
botched Animagus who had once been Malfoy’s girlfriend, but for all Petra knew,
that was just another outrageous rumor. The one thing that was certain was that
Malfoy had a special dislike of Petra and Billy, although why, they couldn’t
say.
Petra and Billy stood, still as statues, peeking
out from behind the tapestry into the semi-darkness of the dimly lit corridor.
They watched in silence as Malfoy skulked by, muttering to his dun colored cat.
“I was sure I heard voices this way, Miss P.”
The flat-faced cat let out a loud, accusatory
‘meow’ in the direction of Billy and Petra.
Petra held her breath as Malfoy turned towards the
tapestry. Just as he reached out to pull it aside a loud, long ‘creak’ rent the
air. It came from somewhere downstairs.
Malfoy dropped his hand immediately. “The front door,
my princess!” he said excitedly to his cat. He turned and fled back down the
corridor, presumably towards the great, oak front doors of the Entrance Hall.
After the sound of Malfoy’s footsteps receded,
Petra heaved a great, shuddering sigh of relief. “That was so close! Billy, you
saved my arse! And…” she paused, regarding him sheepishly, “and after I was so
nasty to you too.”
Even in the semi-darkness, Petra could see Billy’s
ears glowing. “It was no big deal.”
“Yes it was,” countered Petra. “It’s not your
fault the rest of our family lies to me. That’s why I have to…”
“Yes?” interrupted Billy eagerly.
“None of your business!” snapped Petra.
“Come on Petra! Whatever you’re going to do, I’ll
help you.”
Petra raised a skeptical eyebrow. “And why would you
do that?”
Billy gave her an outraged look. “Why would I do
that?” he asked, his voice rising and squeaking indignantly. He held up his
hand before Petra could respond. “No, never mind. I’ve had it with you and your
emotional constipation!” Petra’s mouth fell open as she listened to Billy’s
tirade. “We are family, Petra. Families help each other out. Sometimes
they even l-l-l…” Billy faltered.
Petra smiled softly at his inability to say the
word. “Love each other?” she suggested.
“Yes!” said Billy, relieved. “That word.”
He shuddered. “Only don’t make me say it again. The point is, you’re like the
older sister I never wanted.” He ducked Petra’s half-hearted punch. “I know
you’re upset by what you heard tonight. I am too. You deserve some answers and
I’ll do anything I can to help you.”
Petra considered his offer carefully. She really
could use his help. “Okay,” she said finally. “I think I can use your help.
Only I have a couple of conditions. First, what I’m about to do is a bit
dangerous, not to mention highly against school rules. I want you to be my look
out, but that’s it. Second, I don’t want any unsolicited comments and or
questions, got that?”
He bowed deeply. “Yes, your heiny.” This time he
wasn’t fast enough to duck her punch. “Ouch!”
“Now,” said Petra in a business-like manner. “To
ensure we don’t have any more close calls with Malfoy, there’s something I need
to get from my room…”
***
Petra returned to the Gryffindor common room where
Billy was waiting and unfolded the large, shimmering cloak before him.
“An Invisibility Cloak? Wicked!” He ran his hand
over the cool, fluid material “Where’d you get this?”
“Uncle Ron,” stated Petra simply.
Billy frowned. “For the record, I’d like to point
out that all I got for Christmas from Uncle Ron was a bag of dung bombs and one
of his smarmy, little action figures.”
“Unsolicited comment.”
“Shutting up.”
“Let’s go.”
***
Petra and Billy walked slowly under the
Invisibility Cloak, making their way towards the Entrance Hall. When they
reached the Charms corridor, they froze at the sound of sudden footsteps. As
the footsteps sounded as though they were coming closer, they pressed
themselves up against the wall, waiting for the person to pass.
“Please don’t let it be Malfoy. Please don’t let it be Malfoy,” whispered Billy
in a trembling voice.
“Shut up!” hissed Petra.
Petra gasped as the person finally came into view.
It wasn’t Malfoy. “Damien!” she cried, barely managing to keep her voice down.
The sound of Petra’s disembodied voice startled
Damien so badly that he dropped a vial full of black liquid that he had been
holding. It landed on the floor with a series of loud ‘clanks!’ It had
obviously been charmed to be shatterproof because it stayed intact although the
fall must have loosened the stopper because a few drops of liquid dripped out
of the top. The liquid hissed and steamed as it hit the cold, stone floor.
Petra pulled the Invisibility Cloak off of herself
and Billy.
“Petra,” croaked Damien weakly. “What are you
doing here? It’s almost midnight.”
“No,” said Petra, stooping down to pick up the
vial. “The question is: what are you doing here?” She shook the little
bottle of potion in Damien’s face. “Is this what I think it is?”
Billy’s gaze shifted between Petra and Damien.
Damien opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He dropped his face guiltily,
his shoulders falling in defeat. He nodded slowly. “It’s the potion.”
Petra was so furious she couldn’t even form a
coherent sentence. “You! You were going to…without even…!” She clutched the
bottle tightly.
“What’s going on?” asked Billy, eyeing them
curiously.
Damien hesitated, looking at Billy before turning
an imploring gaze on Petra. “The potion was ready tonight and I…I couldn’t wait
any longer. I have to speak to her. I didn’t take all of it. There’s still
enough for you in the cauldron. But I couldn’t wait any longer. It’s like I
have this big hole inside of me, tearing me up and I want to know more about
her, now! I want to thank her for saving my dad’s life. You understand, don’t
you Petra?”
Petra swallowed guiltily, thinking about where she
had been heading before running into Damien. “I understand, Damien. I was…on my
way to the broom shed as well.”
“You would’ve done it without me?” asked Damien
indignantly.
“You were going to!” Petra shot back.
Damien’s mouth twisted into a wry grin. “Point
taken.”
“Will someone please tell me what’s going on?”
asked Billy.
“No,” snapped Petra.
“He doesn’t know?” asked Damien.
“No,” answered Petra. “I was just bringing him as
a look-out.” She cocked her head to the side thoughtfully. “I think you should
try the potion first, since you need to take it in the castle. When you’re
done, we can head out to the broom shed.
Damien looked at Billy. “What about him?”
Billy squirmed under Petra’s contemplative look.
“I think I know a way that he can still be useful to us,” she said.
***
Petra and Damien peeked out from under the
Invisibility Cloak as they watched Billy pull on the bell cord that rang the
door the Professor Trelawney’s North Tower room. Professor Trelawney’s sleeping
quarters were adjacent to her classroom.
After his fifth time pulling on the bell cord,
Billy turned back in the direction of Petra and Damien and shrugged. “I don’t
think she’s going to answer,” he said.
No sooner were the words out of his mouth, than
the trap door above him burst open, and a very irritated Professor Trelawney
climbed down a silvery ladder. Trelawney was wearing a long, fuzzy bathrobe and
a disapproving frown.
“Who are you and what do you mean, coming here at
this hour?”
Under the Invisibility Cloak, Petra mouthed the
words as Billy said them, praying that he could remember them as they had
practiced.
“Professor Trelawney! Thank goodness you were
awake. Well, of course you were, you must have been expecting me.” Billy
grabbed the professor’s spindly hand and pumped it up and down.
“I…I…” said Trelawney, taken aback.
“I’m Billy Weasley, but you knew that,” said Billy
with a roguish wink. “I came up here because I just got something in my Inner
Eye!” He clutched at the middle of his forehead. “And boy, does it hurt!”
“What is it, my dear?” asked Trelawney eagerly.
“Death? Destruction? The end of the wizarding world as we know it?”
“That’s just it!” exclaimed Billy. “I’m just a
first year, so I’ve never been trained in the noble art of Divination. But I
know a vision when I See one. That’s why I came here for your help.” He
clutched at her hand, his pale, blue eyes widening imploringly. “You will help
me, won’t you Professor Trelawney?”
“Of course I will, dear,” she said benevolently.
“Let’s step into my classroom, and I can help you sort it all out.”
“No! You see, my psychic resonance is so much
stronger on a full stomach. If we could just go down to the kitchens, I’m sure
the house-elves would be kind enough to make us some sandwiches. Besides,”
Billy lowered his voice and looked about, “that’s what my Vision was about.”
“Sandwiches?” asked Professor Trelawney, her eyes
narrowing slightly behind her oversized glasses.
Under the Invisibility Cloak, Petra shook with
silent laughter. Damien elbowed her in the ribs to keep her quiet.
“No, the house-elves!” said Billy. “I Saw them
going on strike during the A.D. Ball. Utter chaos followed!”
“Do tell!” said Trelawney, already starting to
walk away from the shimmering ladder.
The minute Trelawney and Billy were out of
earshot, Damien and Petra climbed the ladder up to the Divination classroom.
Petra took a few seconds to orient herself with the dark, stuffy room crowded
with small tables, chairs and poufs. Damien seated himself at a table in the
center of the room.
“Okay,” he said, rubbing his hands together, “the
deal is Billy keeps Trelawney busy for an hour. I take the potion, you watch
the clock and make sure we’re out of here on time.”
Petra nodded. “We better start then.” She watched
Damien place the bottle of Vox de Morte potion on the table along with his aunt
Parvati’s crystal ball. “Why do you need her crystal ball?”
“Some of my research indicated that personal
possessions of the deceased are a strong lure for them.” He uncorked the vial
of potion and gave Petra a small, nervous smile. “Here we go.”
Petra watched Damien’s face intently as he
swallowed the potion. He shuddered as he placed the bottle down, swiping his
hand across his mouth. “Do you feel anything?” she asked anxiously.
Damien blinked rapidly. His teeth rattled as he
spoke. “Cold. I feel very, very cold.”
Petra glanced about nervously. Despite the fact
that she had not taken the potion herself, she felt a strange shift in the room
temperature as well. “I feel something too,” she whispered eagerly. She didn’t
know why she was whispering, only that it seemed appropriate for the situation.
“Muggles hold hands when they do séances,” said
Damien hesitantly, “perhaps there’s something too it.” He reached out across
the table.
Petra slid her hand into his larger one and
interlaced her fingers with his. His hand felt like ice. She looked at him with
concern as he continued to tremble uncontrollably. He didn’t notice because he
was staring intently at a spot above the crystal ball, a slow grin making its
way over his face. “I see something! Do you see her Petra? Do you see her?”
“I…” Petra saw something, but it could hardly be
classified as a person. It was more like a luminescent cloud of steam hovering
over the crystal ball.
Apparently Damien was having more success because
he cried out, “She’s beautiful! She looks just like my mum. Do you see her now
Petra?”
Petra tilted her head to the side, concentrating
hard. To her surprise she found that she could just make out a series of
features; a pair of large, dark eyes, very similar to Damien’s, long, black
hair braided into a thick plait, soft, flowing robes of an indescribable color.
These features did not settle into a face or a person, they simply swirled
about in the bright mist making Petra wonder if she’d really seen them at all.
“She’s trying to speak, I think,” whispered
Damien, his voice hushed and reverent. “Can you hear her Petra?” He didn’t take
his eyes off of the vision as he spoke.
Petra shook her head. She screwed her eyes up
tight, straining to hear something, anything, but she didn’t. She tightened her
hold on Damien’s hand, as he was shaking more violently, his hand feeling even
colder than when she’d first touched it, when she heard it; a young woman’s
voice. The voice sounded soft and far away, as though she were speaking across
a great distance. “What’s happening?” she asked, sounding a bit disoriented.
“P-p-parvati Patil?” asked Damien, his teeth
chattering harshly.
“I know who I am,” snapped the voice peevishly,
“Who are you? And why did you summon me here? I was just about to have a cuppa
with Rita Skeeter when I was so rudely interrupted! Rita said she had some
lovely new gossip for me!” Petra felt slightly taken aback at the obvious
annoyance in the woman’s voice.
Damien didn’t seem to notice. “I’m Damien Thomas.
I…I’m your…nephew.”
Petra saw the dark eyes in the mist fall sadly.
When Parvati answered, her voice sounded even farther away. “You’re Padma’s
boy? What are you doing here? Why do you summon me?”
Damien’s grin faltered slightly. “I wanted to meet
you. Mum never told me about you. I always wondered why she seemed so sad
sometimes though. Dad finally told me about you and how you saved his life. I
wanted to know more about my brave aunt and tell you that…I’m…a Seer, like you.
So I took this potion…”
If Damien was expecting Parvati’s approval of his
revelation, he was disappointed. Petra heard Parvati’s disapproval clearly
though her voice had grown even softer.
“My sister’s unhappy? It wasn’t supposed to be
this way. My sacrifice was made so that she could live happily with Dean and
their children. It was my fate. But you shouldn’t be here, Nephew. I suppose
she’s never told you about me because she didn’t want you to know about…”
Parvati’s soft voice faltered, suddenly breaking
in urgency. “Go now Damien! Take Percy’s daughter with you! I don’t want you
to…”
Petra felt her heart leap into her throat. “Do you
know my father?” she interrupted.
“Of course I know him!” she stated, growing more
and more agitated. “But you need to leave now. I don’t want you to see…”
“See what?” asked Damien tensing in his seat.
“If you don’t let me go soon, I’ll have to relive
my death and you’ll see…you’ll see…” The mist shimmered in a kaleidoscope of
colors as though agitation was causing it to shift from red to blue to orange.
“We’re not meant to be summoned this way. I’m happy where I am. If I weren’t, I
would be a ghost roaming about. Please break the connection.”
“I don’t know how,” said Damien desperately.
The trap door of the classroom suddenly swung open
and two hooded figures walked in. Petra recognized them as Death Eaters from
her History of Magic textbook. One of them aimed his wand at a younger
Professor Trelawney who was seated at the front of the classroom and stunned
her. A high, terrified scream ripped through the classroom, it came from
somewhere on Petra’s left. She turned and found herself seated next to a young
girl staring at the Death Eaters in horror. Petra almost screamed herself as
she looked about the room and found that it was full of frightened students
though she did not recognize any of them. “What’s happening?” she cried,
turning back to Damien.
“You’ve forced me to relive my death scene,”
answered Parvati sorrowfully. “They don’t see you and they can’t hurt you, but
you’ll see my last moment’s of consciousness.”
Petra watched helplessly as the Death Eaters
dragged two students up to the front of the classroom. One of them was the girl
who had screamed when the Death Eaters walked in. The other was unmistakably
Damien’s father, Dean Thomas. They had the same milky-coffee coloring and the
same tall, lanky frame.
Parvati looked at Damien as he watched the
unfolding scene. One of the Death Eaters held the remaining class members at
bay with his wand while the other one roughed up the two students in the front.
The Death Eater slapped Dean Thomas hard across the face as he shouted, “You
Mudblood filth! We know they aren’t here. But this is what’s going to happen:
we’re going to rid this school of your kind, one by one until Harry Potter and
his lackeys turn themselves in.” He yanked viciously on the girl’s hair as he
said coldly, “and we’re going to start with you two.” He motioned to the other
Death Eater. “It is time.”
The second Death Eater joined his partner at the
head of the room. They lifted their wands in unison and aimed them at Dean and
the terrified girl. “Avada…”
Just as they said the second word, a girl darted
up from one of the tables and ran in front of the two students. The girl looked
exactly like Damien’s mum so she guessed this was Parvati. The Parvati in the
vision took the curse and crumpled to the ground, but so did the Death Eaters.
They fell back hard, one of them losing his mask as he went down.
“Break the connection now!” begged Parvati the
Vision.
Damien let go of Petra’s hand and walked to the
head of the classroom. His gaze was riveted on the Death Eater whose mask had
fallen. “It can’t be…” he whispered in horror.
“What is it?” asked Petra, leaving their table as
well. She watched Damien kneel down beside the dark skinned Death Eater who
looked oddly familiar now. “Damien, isn’t that…”
Damien completed her sentence. “My grandfather.”
He turned back towards the table to Parvati. “Grandfather was a Death Eater?
Your own father killed you? Why hasn’t anyone told me about this?”
Damien suddenly seized up, shuddering convulsively
and collapsed beside the Death Eater. “They’re coming again! They’re coming
again!” Damien moaned.
Petra screamed. “Damien! What’s happening?”
She could barely make out Parvati’s words. “He’s
caught up in my death scene. The potion is making him see it over and over
again. You need to get help or he’ll be trapped forever!”
Petra looked around desperately. She didn’t think
it was safe to leave Damien alone, caught up in the nightmarish scene, yet she
knew she had to get help soon. Damien’s skin had taken a horrible, grayish
tinge and he kept mumbling incoherently.
“What do I do? What do I do?” she wailed, looking
about desperately. Suddenly she spotted her wand, abandoned on the table. Yes,
she thought, perhaps it would work. She grabbed it and pointed it at
Damien. “Expecto Patronum!” she shouted.
Although Petra had practiced the Patronus Charm
with Uncle Harry in Defense Against the Dark Arts, she had never got a result
like this. A great, shining spiraling object shot out of her wand and spun
about the room. It circled Petra and Damien several times so fast that she
could not make out its shape. Petra watched in amazement as the Death Eaters
and the students faded away. Damien stopped shaking and moaning. Petra’s Patronus
hovered over her for a few seconds then disappeared, before she could actually
see what shape it took.
Petra saw the mist that was Parvati alight from
the table and drift over her and Damien. She could no longer make out any
features in the mist, but she heard the voice.
“Thank you, you saved his life. Get him to the
hospital wing now. When he wakes up, explain to him that my death was necessary
for many reasons. My father changed after that. He saw the error of his ways
and turned spy for the Order saving many, many lives. It also allowed his
father to live so that he could be born. Tell him I said, it was worth it.”
Petra nodded, silently, too choked up to answer.
The ethereal mist leaned down towards Damien and
brushed against his forehead. Petra had a feeling that Parvati had just kissed
him. The mist began to recede, Parvati’s voice sounding farther away than ever.
“You, Percy’s daughter, will find what you are searching for. Be patient, the
answers will come to you.”
The mist brushed up against her cheek, shimmered
brightly, then faded away, leaving Petra alone, wondering how she was going to
get the unconscious Damien to the hospital wing and wishing she knew what
Parvati meant about her finding answers.
