Butterfly

Prophetic

A small, indulgent smile graced Harry's lips as he gazed at her skin. It glowed magnificently in the sun; her majestic, smooth chocolate skin contrasted against the golden sunlight that highlighted her features. Her long calves, her slender waist, the curve of her hips and breasts, her full, cerise lips that begged to be kissed. The sand coated her feet and was dusted along the edge of her red bikini bottoms. Her wet hair stuck to her skin. Parvati laughed as she watched Harry, his eyes glued to her magnificent body. Her laughter was a more amazing sound that the low crash of the waves behind them. The sun was half dipped in the ocean behind them. As the sun set, Harry could hear the wildlife starting to come alive; cicadas sounding and birds calling. The air was hazy with salt. The hourglass shape of her figure was accentuated as she lay on her side, the left side of her head palmed by her hand. She had eyes for Harry only.

His butterfly kisses started at her ankle until he reached her collarbone. Harry suckled on the soft skin of her neck. Parvati moved her head so that Harry's lips met with hers.

"I've always wanted to make love on the beach," she whispered, her words, like honey, dripping from her mouth. Her voice was heavy. "Make love to me, Harry."

Harry awoke to find himself tangled up in his sheets, on the floor. He groaned.

Harry managed to untangle himself from his sheets and threw them back on his bed. He waited for his uncle's roar of "Boy!", because surely his fall from his bed had made a lot of noise. Not to mention the floorboards in Dudley's second - therefore his- bedroom were creaky. Then, Harry remembered.

He wasn't at the Dursley's.

Sirius had managed to negotiate with Dumbledore, and just three weeks into his summer holidays, Harry was now staying at number 12 Grimmauld Place. His summer had been…trying, at best.

The needling though in the back of Harry's mind - that Lord Voldemort did want something to do with him. The Order of the Phoenix meetings had continued, the threat of Death Eaters were ever-present, but Professor Dumbledore had not warned or confided in Harry. Harry wanted answers - why did he scar affect him so? What had happened with Parvati when he was possessed? - But did not ask them. Not yet. Before he could deal with Voldemort, Harry had to deal the internal war that raged inside of him.

Dumbledore, Harry was led to believe, had pulled some strings within the Ministry of Magic and Sirius had received a public apology, and was pardoned of all his accused crimes. Sirius had used his freedom to spend more time with his godson. Harry had turned sixteen and had been persuaded by Sirius to get his driver's license. "First a car, then a motorbike," the wizard had grinned. While he had trouble with stalling, Harry didn't think he was too bad at driving - although he admitted flying on a broomstick was much easier. Harry privately thought that maybe Sirius was disappointed by Harry's attitude - Harry had found himself to be more quiet than ever. Probably nothing what his Dad was like at sixteen. He had caught up with Ron and Hermione a few times already in the summer, but the one person he had wanted to see the most was the one he steered clear of.

Parvati. Parvati. Parvati.

Harry sighed as her name swirled around in his head as he showered and changed into a green t-shirt and jeans. The green-eyed-teen yawned as he descended the stairs.

Sirius was now cleanly shaven and looking more like the man in Harry's parents wedding photograph each day. He was sitting at the dining table reading a copy of The Daily Prophet. The headline read YOU-KNOW-WHO KILLS FIFTY IN SURPRISE ATTACK. At the sound of his godson's footfalls, he looked up with a smile.

Sirius jerked his head toward the kitchen. "I wouldn't go in there. Tonks is attempting to bake a cake for the Order meeting tonight."

Harry answered with a sleepy smile, yawning. He sat down at the table as his Godfather conjured a glass of orange juice for him.

"Exhausted, huh?" asked Sirius. "It's nearly three o'clock in the afternoon."

Harry mumbled awkwardly, "Yesterday was…different. Kind of hard."

Harry choked down the embarrassing memory of the woman watching with kind eyes as tears rolled down his face.

Sirius opened his mouth to speak, but Harry quickly interjected, "I don't really wanna talk about it. No offense."

Sirius folded up the newspaper. "None taken, kiddo. Are…are you sure you want to keep going with it? From the way you acted after it yesterday…well, I thought maybe it wasn't such the best idea."

Harry picked up an apple from the fruit bowl and stared at it intently. "I think it's for the best," he replied softly.

Harry ate in silence. When he was finished, he asked of Sirius, "I was wondering whether you could take me to Parvati's today?"

Sirius' contemplative expression slipped into a grin. "Planning to sweep Miss Patil off her feet?"

Harry let out a laugh. "Something like that. I'm going to apologise for being a moody git and hope she takes me back."

Tonks entered from the kitchen, a tea towel in her hands and a smudge of what looked like chocolate across her cheek. Her hair was spiky and bright green. "You should take her flowers. I find that always works. What's her favourite colour?"

"Uhm, green."

Tonks snorted. "Okay, Harry, I'll make you a deal. You help me make this stupid cake and I'll take you to a florist myself."


Harry held the bouquet of red camellias nervously in one hand as he knocked on the door. He checked that flowers were still the same as they were five seconds ago. He smoothed a hand over his raven, unruly hair, for some reason thinking it might lie flat. He heard the thunder of feet clamber down the staircase, and then little clicks, as the door was unlocked. Harry held his breath, nervous.

Parvati turned her head around as she opened the door, her hair swinging behind her. She stopped at the sight of Harry. Harry heard a soft gasp escape from her lips, all the colour draining from her face.

"Hi, Parvati," he started, swallowing nervously. He gripped the camellias tightly as he held them out to Parvati, almost like a peace offering. "It's so good to see you again."

Parvati took the flowers numbly, her gaze never leaving Harry's face. "H-Harry…" she said slowly.

Parvati's face went strangely blank. She dropped the bouquet of camellias.

Harry frowned, worried. "Parvati?"

Padma appeared in the doorway. "Oh, hey, Harry!" she exclaimed, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "I didn't expect to see you here!"

"Something's wrong with Parvati," he said urgently, not bothering with pleasantries.

Padma spun Parvati around and looked into her identical eyes. "Oh shit! Not again!"

Parvati's eyes were unfocused. Her lips were moving, but no sound issued from them.

"What's happening?" Harry asked quickly.

"I knew her voice sounded a bit off before," Padma muttered, his voice urgent. She smoothed Parvati's hair back as she leant her sister against the door.

"What's going on?" Harry pressed urgently.

"It's her visions, they're getting worse. Lately she's been convulsing… Shiva, what am I gunna do? Mum's not home!"

"Parvati?" Harry reached out towards her shoulder. "Can you hear me?"

Harry's put his hand on Parvati's shoulder, her smooth skin beneath his hand.

Parvati's eyes rolled into the back of her head. Her lips stopped moving. Then, they moved, and her voice was cold.

"He will be defeated by he who has thrice defied him…He will be defeated by those who have been destined…He will be defeated….and They will rise again…"

Parvati let out a scream and collapsed in her sister's arms.

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