Butterfly

Horror

Harry completely missed what Parvati found so funny about Dean's haircut because Hermione Granger had engulfed in him such a hug that he stumbled backwards.

"Hi, Hermione," he said weakly, his vision obscured by her bushy hair.

"I've missed you so much!" His best friend cried, finally letting him go and stepping back to observe him. "You're looking better," she commented approvingly. "Do you have good holidays?"

"Yes, I did, and thanks," Harry responded, accepting the compliment awkwardly. He looked around Platform 9 3/4. "What about you? Where's Ron?"

"Mine weren't bad. I got the new edition of Hogwarts: A History! I think Ron is Saying goodbye to his parents, Hermione replied before Parvati latched onto her.

Soon enough Ron joined Harry, Hermione, Parvati and Dean. The set of Gryffindors ventured off the find a compartment on the Hogwarts Express.

The train ride passed somewhat uneventfully. It was an assemblage of laughter, of tall stories and junk food, edging around the topic of Seamus and Death Eaters, small bets made on Quidditch teams, chuckling at Parvati's earrings, listening to Hermione read an interesting passage from The Fountain of Fair Fortuneand thinking up products Lavender could endorse.

Days thickened into weeks, and weeks transformed into months. The time became lost for Harry and Parvati in a compilation of NEWT syllabuses, successful manipulations of visions and rewarding therapy sessions.

Sixth year was hard, their subjects full with content and somewhat dull due to Professor Snape's take over of the Defence Against the Dark Arts teaching position. Harry was glad to be rid of Potions; the new professor, Slughorn, seemed a bit intense.

Gryffindor was in the lead to win the House Cup, having stolen the first Quidditch match of the season from right under the Slytherin's noses – Draco Malfoy's in fact.

The ferret-like Slytherin had been looking wan and forlorn for most of the year – Hermione had said his rank had dropped substantially in their Ancient Runes class, as he was always absent.

Harry didn't know what to make of it, but didn't pursue his suspicions with too much vigour. When Parvati tried to See what was happening, all she could make out was Blaise Zabini meeting loping towards Harry and saying quickly, "Draco Malfoy let them in.", and gracefully striding off as though he hadn't said a word to the Gryffindor.

They both had decided it would be best just to wait until that vision came to life.

Parvati and Harry had also been very…publicly intimate during the year. Now that they were both in the right state of mind to do things – the fact that they were both now legally allowed didn't seem to cross their minds however – they were slowly working up to things.

Although her visions were calming down in frequency, intensity and purpose, Parvati had started having reoccurring dreams about the night Barty Crouch Junior held her hostage and Luc watched on. Hermione had attributed it to Parvati's subconscious finally having time to deal with experiences from the past instead of always being bombarded with present traumatic events – and Parvati agreed. However, she couldn't decide what she hated more: the visions or dreams.

In any case, Harry didn't want to trigger anything, happy to be as patient with her as she had been with him through fifth year and the holidays. Who knew there were so many different ways to make out with someone?

Ron and Hermione, who had been strangely cordial with each other all school year, didn't seem to find the couple's antics all that great.

It was lunch in the Great Hall, and Hermione was busy practicing a solidifying charm on her goblet of pumpkin juice, softly saying "Duro," every so often. Harry and Parvati were kissing rather passionately beside Ron. The sucking and breathing sounds coming from them seemed to actually turn Ron off his serve of carrot cake.

"So, Hermione," Ron said rather pointedly, "How's arithmancy?"

Hermione proceeded to roll her eyes but regale Ron with tales of her subject.

Later, Ron caught up with Harry on his way to Defence Against the Dark Arts and said in a hushed but blunt voice, "Harry, can you please not suck your girlfriend's face off when I'm eating breakfast?"

Harry went red, coughing. "Err, sorry, mate."

"No worries. I just don't need to see that type of thing at seven thirty am, you know?"

"Yeah, I get what you mean…"

"So, you and Parvati are going pretty good, yeah?"

Harry couldn't stop the goofy grin that appeared. "Yeah, it's fantastic."

"What's, you know, 'it' like?"

"What's 'it', exactly?"

Ron looked around and watched as a group of first years ran past. He waited until they were out of earshot.

"What's sex like, mate?"

Harry tripped over his robes. "Ron!" he hissed loudly.

"What? I'm just curious!"

"We haven't got that far, yet, okay?"

"But…but you've been going out practically for two years!"

"Yeah, and we've had a lot of other stuff to deal with."

"Mmm, I 'spose homicidal maniacs do kill the vibe…"

"We're working up to it, all right?"

"So you've done other stuff…"

"Yes."

"And you're not bragging about it to us all?"

"Seamus didn't really have much respect for the girls he bragged about, Ron. I can tell you stuff, later, if you like. But not here. And not in detail, either. That's kinda weird."

They rounded the corner and saw the rest of the class start to shuffle inside.

"The noises Seamus made when he was re-enacting stuff weren't too great, either," Ron commented, before he and Harry burst out laughing at the memory of Seamus' tale of he and some Slytherin girl.

A silent realisation passed between them, though neither commented on it; it was okay to think and talk about their old friend again.


Harry had had it all planned out so smoothly: Hermione had given him plenty ideas he had used. Rose-scented candles, a secluded, romantic room – that had been too easy, he just used the Room of Requirement.

But now, as Parvati sat on the bed, in awe of the way the lights glowed pink, Harry became very nervous. He wasn't very good at this romantic stuff.

Harry ran a hand through his messy hair, seeming uneasy.

"Remember when we were here last time?" Harry certainly could. Vividly. "Well, err; I'd like to…return the favour, if it's okay with you."

Parvati blushed, which was somewhat uncharacteristic of her, her eyes wide. She then shyly nodded. "Okay."

She slowly moved herself backwards onto the best until her head was up against the headboard. She undid her grey school skirt, and slid it off. She then slid her white, lacy panties down her legs.

Harry's fingers were warm as they slide inside of her. It hurt her a bit at the start, but then his fingers moved and hit that spot and Parvati couldn't find the words to describe the pleasure she felt.

"Harry," she moaned uncontrollably. Her breaths were becoming heavy, and she could feel him shudder as she called his name.

A while passed, and Harry removed his fingers. He began placing butterfly kisses along Parvati's inner thighs, until his hot tongue found its way and he tasted her. She felt herself become wet. Parvati moaned louder, her heart thudding in her chest, her limbs feeling weightless and giddy at his touch.

Parvati woke up in the morning to see Harry staring at her, a smile on his face.

"You were snoring," he offered.

Parvati mumbled incoherently, her voice muffled by the pillows. "Mmmphuh."

Harry laughed and watched as she wriggled into a more comfortable position. "You are so not a morning person."

"Ayeuhvwoo," she said into the pillow after a few moments.

"I didn't catch that, Par."

Parvati raised her head and looked at her boyfriend through the strands of her messy hair.

"I said, 'I love you'."

"Love you too."

The two eventually got out of their bed and decided to clear out of what was fast becoming an old haunt for them. They hastily grabbed their things, shared a few lovingly long kisses, and parted ways; Parvati went to change her uniform before breakfast and Harry needed to go to the bathroom to freshen up before heading up to the dorms.

Harry watched, smiling to himself, as Parvati's retreating form vanished out of sight. He turned to the right and started to walk down the hall when he was stopped by a familiar figure walking behind him.

"What were you doing near the Room of Requirement, Malfoy?" he asked accusingly.

"None of your business, " Malfoy sneered, but he went as white as a sheet. "I'm…uh…going to the bathroom."

"Great. Me too."

The two walked tensely towards the lavatory. Harry could not shake the undeniable feeling that something was very wrong with Malfoy. He could feel the adrenaline start to kick in on instinct.

Harry walked towards the sink basin before turning around, starting to say, "Malfoy-?" when suddenly the boy cried, "Stupefy! Stupefy!"

Harry ducked and rolled along the ground, the jinxes missing him. What the hell?

"I can't let you be suspicious and tell Dumbledore," Malfoy hissed, threatening his wand again. He sounded desperate, his voice high and croaky, his eyes darting around the room.

"I don't even talk to Dumbledore, you idiot," Harry exclaimed, entirely truthful.

Malfoy, in his paranoid state, didn't seem to care. "It's almost time and I just can't let you stop me," he continued, seemingly pleading with himself.

"Furnunculus!" Malfoy then cried desperately, the curse missing Harry by inches.

"Confringo!" Harry hexed back, trying to defend himself. "Locomotor Mortis!"

The last spell hit Malfoy; his legs locked together, but in no time he was incanting the counter-curse.

Harry scrambled around the back of the showers, his heart racing. He didn't see Malfoy round the row of stalls before it was too late.

"Sectumsempra!" Malfoy shrieked.


Parvati practically skipped down to the Great Hall for breakfast, a smile effortlessly adorning her face. She ate her bowl of muesli and banana slices contently, surprised when she received a letter via the morning post. She recognised the owl to be Lavender's little black one. She excitedly ripped open the letter.

Dearest Pav,

I miss you so much; I can't wait until I can see you again. I think you'd be proud. I'm doing a lot better these days. I've sent you a copy of this month's issue of Witch Weekly – I'm on page four! They cut a lot of my hair off, and it's now 'dark chocolate', but I think it rather suits me! Mum and Dad have been supportive of this whole modelling thing and even bought me a cake to celebrate my magazine appearance. Mum and I talked about Seamus a bit, too, over cocktails. You should try this one called Blue Lagoon, maybe, if your Sight ever stops being such a killjoy. It's so delish! Anyways, I'm not, you know….over Seamus…but I think I'm starting to get more to the fact that he's gone.

I'm glad things are working out for you and Harry, honey – and in your next letter don't spare me any details! You know what they say about Seekers…and I want the full story! And oh my god, I'm so glad you are working out your visions. (Can you see me being a supermodel? Ha ha!)

Also, enclosed – look at me, I sound like Granger, 'enclosed!' – is a woman's name and address that I really think you should look at. Genevieve Gladrags. She has shops in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade, yes that is right, Gladrags Wizardwear!

Anyways, I was talking to her at a runaway show I was doing in London, and I mentioned how interested you are with fashion and designing your own stuff. I mean, I know it's sort of a secret hobby of yours, and it's not you can really talk to Harry about it, geez, he's a boy, for Merlin's sake, but I've always thought you should give the designing thing a real go. You should totally send her a design or whatever. Because although her stores aren't that high end, she has sooo many connections.

Do it. You know that you love me and you will thank me later.

I hope to hear from you soon, honey!

Love, Lavender

PS. Love the picture of you and Harry you sent. Cute lightning bolt earrings!

Parvati smiled at the letter (even though she had no idea what 'they' said about Seekers) and fumbled around in the envelope for the copy of Witch Weekly. She rushed towards page four, grinned, and felt like shouting, "That's my best friend!"

Lavender looked amazing. Her dark brown lipstick contrasted her pale skin and her choppy hair looked windswept as it brushed delicately over her big doe eyes. Her beautiful, lean figure was draped in a cream, flowing dress.

Parvati couldn't believe the fabulous day that she was having. Harry had been fantastic, glorious, stupendous, amazing last night, Lavender was in Witch Weekly, and the designer idea had gotten Parvati thinking. Sure, she had always been interested in fashion, just like Lavender had. Sure, she had sketches a few designs down. But to make a career out of it?

Maybe she would show Harry the pictures, and ask what he thought.

Which brought Parvati to her next line of thinking – where was her really hot boyfriend?

She shrugged, and flipped through the pages of Witch Weekly with interest. She didn't notice Colin Creevey standing beside her until he tapped her on the shoulder.

He looked anguished, Parvati realised with a shock.

She faintly heard the words, "It's about Harry…" when she was assaulted with a multitude of blazing, hazy visions. But they all concluded to the same thing.

Draco Malfoy watching as Harry Potter slowly collapsed into a sickening pool of his own blood.

Draco Malfoy stepping on Harry's already bleeding hand for good measure, and walking away from the scene.

Harry, lying in the shallow puddle of water that was streaming from a broken bathroom tap.

The cerise blood gushing out from his chest, his arms, until Harry, struggling to breathe, choked on the cascade of blood gushing from his mouth.

She Saw Harry Potter dying.


A/N: Genevieve Gladrags is an OC; Gladrags Wizardwear is a canon store. The Fountain of Fair Fortune is a tale found in The Tales of Beedle and the Bard. I only use canon spells out of the books:

Duro - harden, solidifies target (It's used in Deathly Hallows for anyone wondering)

Stupefy - renders target unconscious

Furnunculus - curse that makes boils break out over target

Confringo - blasting curse

Locomotor Mortis - binds target's legs together

Sectumsempra - curse that cuts target

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