Be The Death Of Me

Harry dazedly watched as the mismatched colours of dimly lit walls rushed passed him, dull grey bricks illuminated, then blackened by the absence of light, going by in a blur as he was supported along the corridor. Harry felt the cool air around him juxtapose with his dry, slight agape mouth, and felt the hot, sticky blood wander from his lightning-bolt shaped scar like a curious stream towards his mouth. His blood tasted like salt.

The raven-haired teenager wondered if he should tell Ron that his scar was bleeding, but his cerise-haired boy looked too busy. Ron was anxiously half dragging, half carrying his best friend towards Dumbledore's office. Harry decided not to inform Ron: the eerie erratic flashes of Voldemort's maniacal laughter were disorientating enough that he thought if he were to open his mouth he might not be able to speak, or may vomit.

Harry's body suddenly flew across the room; Ron had pushed Harry up against the corridor wall. Dazed by the abrupt actions, Harry looked at the red head.

"Sorry, mate," mouthed Ron, his eyes flickering from the wall opposite back to Harry. Harry saw Mrs Norris slinking past them, and understood. It would not bode well if Filch - or worse, Umbridge - found a group of teenagers stalking the halls at night.

Ron motioned behind Harry, where Lavender and Hermione held Parvati's shaking hands reassuringly, and the group moved forward. After what seemed like an eternity, they finally reached the Headmaster's office. Hermione whispered the password, the gargoyle sprung aside, and the five students headed up the winding staircase that led to Professor Dumbledore.

Dumbledore seemed to not be alone; a few hushed voices could be heard from beyond the office door. Ron and Hermione knocked on the door in unison.

"Professor Dumbledore," cried Lavender, agitated by her best friend's state, "It is Lavender Brown, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter and Parvati Patil! Please, sir, it's an emergency!"

The voices stopped, and the door opened. In the threshold stood Professor Snape, his eyes as dark as the night sky. He raised an eyebrow at the group.

"What," he started silkily, "is so important that it could not wait until-"

The bat-like teacher stopped as he took in a clearly overcome Harry Potter and a severely shaking Parvati Patil.

"Come in," he said shortly, and the group did so. Harry let himself be led into a chair, but Parvati refused, opting to stay standing next to Lavender. Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, and Professor McGonagall was standing above him. McGonagall took one look at Harry's face, pointed her wand and cast the spell episkey to clear the blood. The laughter that rang through Harry's mind had faded away.

"What has happened?" asked Dumbledore urgently, his cerulean eyes without a trace of a twinkle.

Ron spoke. "Parvati and Harry both had a vision of my dad, he was at…it was the ministry, Harry?" The green-eyed teenager nodded his head, looking at the ground, unseeing.

"Yeah…" continued Ron, obviously disturbed by what his friends had seen. "They both saw that my dad was at the ministry, and that he got bitten by a giant snake."

"It was Nagini, Voldemort's snake." amended Harry quietly.

Snape looked as though he was about to say something, but Hermione interrupted him. "But Parvati's vision of Mr Weasley was d-different…she kept having the same vision over and over for a few minutes…she kept seeing Ron's dad dead."

Dumbledore surveyed the group of teenagers gravely. He asked for both Harry and Parvati to tell their versions of what they saw. He quickly summoned a nearby portrait of a wizened wizard to go alert the required people, and reassured Ron that his father would be taken care of immediately.

Dumbledore then asked Professor McGonagall to accompany Lavender back to her dorms, and to also bring back the other Weasley siblings. The pretty witch at first protested, but Dumbledore explained that as she was not directly involved she had to go. Lavender, sensing that this was true, gave her best friend a hug and a kiss on her cheek before leaving with her head of house.

The door had closed behind the two. Snape inquired of the Headmaster, "Albus, how can both Potter and Patil have the same vision? I did not know that Potter was indeed a Seer too."

"Severus," answered the old man, "I believe that Harry's connection with Voldemort allows him to see things from enemy lines. Although, it is astounding that they both had an almost identical vision. Miss Patil?"

Parvati looked up. Her hands had stopped shaking so badly.

"Yes, sir?" she asked in a troubled voice.

"Can you see anything else concerning Arthur Weasley?"

Parvati shook her head, her eyes seeing beyond the office, trying to see Mr Weasley.

"No," she replied. "I tried to purposely look, but I don't think I can just command my visions like that…it's all blurry, it's shifting - I can't tell whether my earlier vision of Mr Weasley was right or not."

Ron paled considerably at this. Parvati was anxious; she could only make out passing shapes, a blurry view of what her earlier vision was. Maybe this meant that Mr Weasley was going to be okay? Her repeating vision tonight had been Seen in the present, but since then the future had set things in motion - help had been sent to Ron's father - maybe this would change the outcome of what Parvati had Seen!

"Perhaps try to concentrate a little harder, Miss Patil." suggested Snape. Obediently, Parvati closed her eyes. She tried to focus of how exactly the vision of Mr Weasley had look, how the snake had risen high and -

It was though a pebble had been dropped into water, causing a ripple effect. Something rippled across the water of her mind, something gentle, yet inexplicably dangerous. It was the only way Parvati could describe the feeling. What was happening? She looked up, and saw Snape staring at her intently. Infuriated, she hissed, "Get out of my head."

Snape blinked, taken aback. The rippling through her mind stopped; the cool lake of her thoughts became undisturbed once again.

Parvati let out a strangled sort of noise.

"You- You were in my head. How did you do that?" she asked, so angry she was close to tears. She felt violated.

Dumbledore frowned at his potions teacher. "Severus, that was uncalled for-"

The Headmaster was interrupted by McGonagall returning with Ginny, Fred, George, and to Parvati's gratefulness, her twin sister Padma. Padma rushed over to Parvati and held onto her tightly. Ginny looked half asleep as her twin brothers demanded, "What's happened to Dad?"

Dumbledore explained all that had happened, and with a quick wave of his wand, and a muttering of "Portus!" he turned a small silver abacus on his desk into a Portkey. He instructed all of the children to grab on. They would be taken to Grimmauld Place where they would wait for news of their father.

Before she touched the metallic counting device, Parvati spared a look at Harry. He looked as shaken up as she felt. She hoped Ron's dad would make it through…and she hoped she and Harry would too. The portkey glowed, and as Parvati placed a finger on it, her world went spinning for the umpteenth time that night.

The walls within St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries were pristine white, unnerving Harry Potter slightly. Although he supposed not getting a wink of sleep the night before might have something to do with the wary state he was currently in.

The Weasley family were currently inside the Dai Llewellyn Ward for Serious Bites, where Mr Weasley was recovering. Harry and Parvati had been subjected to praise from Arthur who insisted that without them he would have surely died. Both teenagers had then excused themselves so Mr Weasley could spend time with his sons, daughter and wife.

Harry and his girlfriend - god, well, he thought that maybe she would still be his girlfriend - sat awkwardly in the waiting area outside the ward, Aurors Tonks and Kingsley keeping watch over them. Harry, deciding that sitting beside and not talking to Parvati was going to be terribly awkward for the both of them, had managed to get hold of that day's copy of The Daily Prophet and was perusing it slowly.

For a moment, he had forgotten that the Wizarding World believed he to be a liar, Dumbledore an aging fool and that the general consensus was that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had not returned. He put down the paper, feeling miserable.

"Journalists aren't very nice, are they?" asked Parvati quietly, pointing towards a headline that read: POTTER'S LOST THE PLOT.

Harry chanced a glance at the witch. Her long, dark hair had been pulled back into a loose ponytail. Even with bags under her eyes, she looked beautiful to Harry.

"No," he replied rather hoarsely. "They're not. Parvati…I was really unfair to you. I do trust you." Harry took Parvati's hand in his, and her chocolate eyes sparkled with tears. "I promise I'll be more open to you from now on. No more secrets."

Parvati smiled. "Thanks. I love you." She kissed him lightly on the lips.

"You too, Par." Harry shifted closer to her, and noticed Tonks grinning at them from across the hall. "Maybe we should finish this later…Tonks looks like she's having way too much fun watching us."

Parvati grinned. "Yeah, later; I guess we have a lot to talk about." Parvati moved closer, safe in Harry's warm embrace.

Parvati laughed as Harry awkwardly sat down next her, his back resting on the side of the bathtub. The house was loud with occupants downstairs; Fred and Georg e were playing a fierce game of Exploding Snap, and Mrs Weasley was cooking up a storm in the kitchen.

"Why is it," inquired Harry, "that the bathroom is the only private place we can talk?"

Parvati scrunched up her nose teasingly at her boyfriend. "Duh, with the whole Weasley family, my family, a bunch of Aurors and an escaped Azkaban resident, there's no room in this house!" Her eyes were alit with mischief.

"So, uh," coughed Harry, "Do you want to talk first, or…?"

Harry had stopped speaking, for his mouth had run dry. Parvati was looking up at him dangerously, removing her jacket slowly. Something clicked inside of Harry. To hell with talking.

Harry captured Parvati's mouth, and she responded by pressing her body closer to his. Parvati continued to kiss her boyfriend passionately, her hands in his unruly black hair and her body moving rhythmically against Harry's. Harry was kissing Parvati like he had never kissed her before, and his hands were magic. The brown haired girl let out a small sound of longing as Harry reached up under her shirt, his hands gently but fervently exploring the soft feel of her breasts. They were going further than they had ever before and the danger was enticing. Parvati could feel every part of her body responding, and the feel of her nipples erect under Harry's touch as he felt around her bra was ecstasy.

Lavender had talked of fireworks, instant electricity; but all Parvati could feel was the slow burning desire for more from Harry, like the dying flame of a candle over time, wax dripping down the candle so leisurely that it hurt to look at. From the way he was touching her, Parvati bet that Harry felt it too. Parvati motioned for Harry to take off his shirt, and he complied; Parvati's hands eagerly roamed Harry's chest…and decided that Quidditch was a heavenly sport for boy's muscles and said boy's girlfriends. Harry breathed her name as she continued to kiss him.

In a sudden movement, Parvati's hands reached for Harry's belt. Harry slowly moved towards the inside of the bathtub, so he could lean against the tiled wall, a much more comfortable place to hold Parvati than against the edge of the bath. Harry groaned as Parvati started to remove his belt, her fingers feeling like fire as they brushed against his skin as she undid the buckle, and Harry's jeans fell to the floor of the bathtub. Parvati looked up at Harry, with a curious expression on her face. A small, devious, sexy smile found itself across her features as her finger traced around his undergarments, slowly starting to remove them. Harry knew he would die happy if he could die seeing Parvati smile like that again. He groaned pleasurably, and reached out for something to grab on.

Furious cold water suddenly rained down on the two teenagers; Parvati shrieked and Harry cast a startled glance at what he had been holding.

It seemed, in his haste, he had grabbed the shower tap.

Both Parvati and Harry saw this as both a blessing and a curse: Harry, for instance, was shirtless, and now wet, and Parvati was wearing a white t-shirt. Harry swallowed hard as he stared at Parvati's t-shirt, which was now see-through. Her lacy green bra was undeniably and excitingly visible.

Harry moved and embraced Parvati so that her back was against the wall, her soaked body radiating heat against his own. He held her beautiful face his hands and kissed her lips, placing his tongue in her mouth hungrily.

"I think," said Harry between kisses, "that green is now my favourite colour." His hands wandered down to Parvati's torso, and this was almost too much for the girl to bear. Harry was even sexier when wet.

"Harry," began Parvati in a heavy, breathy voice -

"DINNER!" came Mrs Weasley's shout from downstairs. Harry jumped, startled. Parvati swallowed loudly, and climbed out of the bathtub, her nails raking against Harry's bare chest as he leant over and turned the tap off. Harry was sad to break contact with his girlfriend, but seeing water droplets drip down her cinnamon skin wasn't too bad a substitute.

Harry grinned like he'd just won the House Cup. "How are we gunna explain this?" he asked, doing up his jeans and belt.

Parvati bit her lip, unable to look away from Harry's come-hither green eyes. "Well, it's lucky that we're in a house with adult wizards right? A drying charm won't be detected."

Harry's eyes swept over his girlfriend's wet figure. "Yeah," he said. "Lucky."

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