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Padma's toe beats a steady rhythm against the marble floor, her impatience echoing down the empty corridor outside Ravenclaw Tower. She's never had to wait this long for a riddle to enter the common room.
Just when she's about to give up and see if she can bunk with Parvati for the night, the brass knocker speaks.
"Did you have a nice time at the Ball?"
Padma cocks her head to the side. It doesn't sound like a riddle, but she's never known the eagle to ask a straightforward question, and she pauses to consider her answer.
"I had more fun than some, and less fun than others."
"An interesting outcome."
The door swings open, and Padma hurries in. Most of the time, she doesn't mind the requirement of answering a riddle to get into her dormitory, but tonight, she's tired and grateful for what turns out to be a simple question.
The Yule Ball didn't go exactly as she had hoped. What did she expect, really? Ron is nice enough, but they have nothing in common. She started having a lot more fun once she traded her date for the boys of Beauxbatons.
Padma wastes no time ditching her heels and collapsing into the nearest chair. She should have abandoned her uncomfortable shoes at the same time as she did Ron; she only wore them thinking it would be easier for them to dance if she were closer to his height, and that turned out to be for naught.
The door swings open again, and Terry enters, smiling when he sees her. He looks quite fit in his dress robes, even in their now-disheveled state.
He takes the seat across from Padma, and the ancient furniture groans with the weight. "What's up with the knocker?"
Padma shrugs. "Beats me. Did it ask you about the Ball, too?"
"Yeah. Weird, right?"
"Weird night all around, I suppose." Padma's fingers trace idle patterns in the velvet upholstery beside her, turning parts of the fabric a deeper shade of blue.
Terry smirks. "I noticed things didn't go well with Weasley."
"You can say that again."
"I noticed things—"
"Don't, don't!" Padma cuts off his sarcastic retort, and they both dissolve into laughter.
Padma realizes after a moment of companionable silence that she has no idea how his date went, though it seems that he was paying attention to hers, so she asks.
"It was okay," Terry replies with a shrug. "I like Daphne, but I think it would've been more fun going with a friend. You know, like maybe if you and I had gone together."
The word friend sticks in her brain like a barb, though she doesn't know why it irks her. She and Terry are friends, after all.
"Well, maybe next time…" Padma trails off, unable to explain why her heart is suddenly racing.
"Yeah," Terry agrees. "Maybe next time."
The common room is bursting with first day energy, but Padma struggles to match the boisterous attitude of her housemates. Instead she's chosen to tuck herself into the nook that serves as the Ravenclaw Tower library, away from the activity.
She's in her favorite spot at the window, with a book open on her lap when Terry disrupts her solitude. His intrusion doesn't bother her like it would if he were anyone else.
"You're missing the party." He perches himself on the window seat beside her, close enough that she catches a whiff of his cologne.
Has Terry always worn cologne?
"Not in the mood, I suppose."
There's been a dark cloud over the entire wizarding world since the beginning of summer and Cedric's death. Rumors swirl about the return of the Dark Lord, though the Prophet is denying all of Potter's claims. The introduction of a Ministry official as their new Defense professor underlies the idea that there's something going on, even if Padma can't be sure exactly what that something is.
Terry nods without argument. "I get it." Changing the subject, he reaches for her lapel with a grin. "That badge looks good on you."
"It should've been you," Padma grumbles, setting her book aside. Anthony has been flashing his badge around all night, showing off his new position as prefect, and Padma is already dreading working with him all year.
As if reading her mind, Terry assures her, "He'll stop flaunting it once the attention dies down. And I'm okay. Goldstein's fine as prefect."
"Yes, he's just fine, but you—"
Padma cuts herself off and draws in a sharp breath as she meets his gaze. Terry's hand is still twisted in the front of her robes, and she could cut the tension between them with a slicing charm.
"I'm what?" he asks.
The possible answers race through her mind: a better student, my best friend, Flitwick's favorite, the boy I—
She clears her throat and reaches for her book. "You would've been a better choice, that's all."
Terry lets his hand drop to his side as he turns to gaze out over the grounds. The curvature of the wall is such that their knees bump together on the seat, and Padma's whole body tingles from the innocent touch.
Padma skips up to Ravenclaw Tower, in better spirits than she's been all year. After much practice, she was finally able to conjure a Patronus at tonight's Dumbledore's Army meeting. It wasn't a corporeal Patronus like some of the others, but still, it's progress.
"Is it better to be a small fish in a big pond or a big fish in a small pond?" The bronze knocker poses the question as soon as Padma reaches the door.
"It's best to be in the pond where no one is fishing," Padma answers.
"Well said."
Padma bounds through the door, and Terry looks up from his homework as she enters. He missed tonight's meeting due to detention with Snape, and Padma is eager to tell him the news.
"I did it, Ter!" she exclaims as she races over to him and drops her bag with a muffled thud. "I conjured a Patronus."
"What?" Terry leaps from his seat. "That's amazing!"
He wraps her in a hug, and she stiffens in surprise before lifting her arms to return his embrace. She's not quick enough, though, as Terry yanks himself back, his cheeks pink in the low light of the common room.
"So, um…can you show me?"
"Oh—yeah, sure."
Padma withdraws her wand and mimics her movements from earlier in the evening. "Expecto Patronum!"
With the memory of Terry's arms around her still fresh in her mind, this Patronus shines even brighter than her first.
It's terrible weather for a Hogsmeade weekend, so Padma decides to stay in and catch up on homework. After surviving their O.W.L. exams—no thanks to Umbridge's attempts to sabotage their entire education—Padma expected sixth year to be easier, a break before N.E.W.T. year.
She couldn't have been more wrong.
She and Lisa commandeer their favorite spot in the common room, pressed against the rounded wall beneath the arched window that lets in the most light from outside. Books and parchment litter every surface within their reach.
Padma hardly notices when Terry walks by; she wouldn't have noticed at all, if not for the scent of his cologne that she's become so attuned to. He's wearing more than usual today, no doubt on his way to another date with Susan.
It's not that she cares that he's dating Susan. She just thought that they—
Well. It doesn't matter what she thought. He's dating Susan.
Padma doesn't notice the scowl on her face, either, until Lisa interrupts their silent studies. "Why don't you just tell him that you fancy him?"
Padma's head snaps up, and she meets Lisa's mischievous gaze with a raise of her eyebrow. "Who?"
"Terry, obviously."
"Oh, please." Padma scoffs and tries to return to her work, but Lisa reaches out and snatches her quill away. "Hey! I do not—" Padma cuts herself off and glances around the room before lowering her voice to continue, "I do not fancy Terry. And clearly he doesn't fancy me because he spends every spare moment snogging Susan."
"And you're totally not jealous at all."
Padma chooses to ignore Lisa's sarcasm. "Not at all."
Padma lets her trunk slam on each step of the dormitory stairs as she descends to the common room, the weight of it only rivaled by the heaviness of her heart.
All of the other students have already left to gather for Dumbledore's funeral, but Padma's parents have other ideas for Parvati and her. It's bad enough to be dragged from school, but to not even be allowed to stay and grieve with her classmates is another level of unfairness.
"You're really leaving?" Terry's voice startles her; his dark navy robes blend in with the couch so that she doesn't see him at first glance.
"I don't have a choice," she mutters, dragging her trunk toward the door.
"Of course you do." Terry is on his feet in a flash, blocking her exit. "You need to be here. We need you here."
"Who's we?" Padma snaps with more bite than she intends. "You and Susan?"
Terry kicks at the carpet, avoiding her gaze. "We broke up, actually."
"Did you?"
"Yeah."
The silence stretches between them, the air thick with all the things they've left unsaid. "I have to go," Padma says, lifting her trunk again. "My parents will be here soon."
"Stay." Terry's hand closes around her wrist, and his voice wavers. "Please."
Every moment that she obliges his request will make it harder to walk away. She pulls her hand from his grip and turns for the door without looking back.
"Have a good summer."
Padma doesn't see Terry on the train or at the opening feast. It's as if he's avoiding her. She trudges up the stairs to Ravenclaw Tower, wondering how or if she should approach him.
"What can both heal and kill without touch?"
Padma regards the bronze knocker with a sigh. After seven years, she won't miss having to answer a riddle every time she wants to enter her home.
"It must be some kind of potion," she muses. "Something that heals, but could also kill you if you drink too much. Skele-gro?" The knocker remains silent and the door firmly shut, and Padma groans.
"What's the question?" Padma jumps at the sound of Terry's voice and then motions to the knocker.
"What can both heal and kill without touch?" the eagle repeats.
Terry thinks for a moment, then answers with confidence. "Time."
"Indeed."
The door cracks open and Terry wrenches it the rest of the way, not waiting for Padma before pushing into the common room.
"Ter, wait." Padma squeezes in behind him, snagging the sleeve of his robes before he can escape up the spiraling stairs to the dorm.
"What?" He whirls to face her, eyes flashing with anger. "I thought you weren't coming back."
"I wasn't sure I was."
"Exactly."
He turns away again, and her frustration snaps like a rubber band. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"You didn't know if you were coming back, if I would ever see you again, and you couldn't even say goodbye before you left?"
"Terry, I—"
But he doesn't wait for her to explain, and his heavy footsteps echo down the staircase long after he disappears from her sight.
He's been gone way too long.
Padma is wearing a path in the plush blue carpet of the common room, gnawing at her nails as she paces. She's walked the same steps a hundred times, back and forth across the rug, since Amycus dragged Terry away after dinner.
It's not as if he had any choice in the matter. Their lesson today in what used to be Defense Against the Dark Arts was to practice the Cruciatus curse on their classmates, and Terry refused when called upon. Padma isn't surprised by Terry's actions, but she knows he is paying dearly for his moment of rebellion.
It's well past curfew and she's alone, the only one waiting up for his return. As she checks the clock on the wall again, ticking in the moonlight pouring through the windows, she can't help but worry. What if Terry doesn't come back at all? Exactly how far would the Carrows go to make an example of him?
Padma is considering leaving the dorm to seek Professor Flitwick for help when the door opens with a slow creak and Terry appears. Padma hurries to him but stops short of reaching him; he looks as if the slightest touch could knock him to the ground.
"It's not as bad as it looks," Terry croaks. There's a ghost of a smile on his cracked and bloody lips, and Padma stifles a sob.
"Can I—"
She doesn't finish the question, but Terry understands, lifting one arm in invitation. It's all the encouragement she needs to throw her arms around his neck, letting her tears drip onto his shoulder as he wraps her in a weak embrace.
"You should go to Madam Pomfrey," Padma murmurs.
"No. I screwed up." Terry shakes his head, his nose bumping against Padma's ear as he does. "She doesn't need to face the Carrows' wrath, too, for helping me."
"She's the school nurse, you dolt."
"Yeah, like that matters to them."
Padma pulls away to assess his injuries, forcing herself to look him over with an objective eye. "Let me, then."
Terry agrees with the slightest incline of his head and allows Padma to lead him to the sofa. She conjures a bowl and a flannel, filling the former with water from her wand as Terry sinks into the cushions.
"I'm sorry I can't do much else for you." Padma wipes the blood from his cheeks, cleaning the wounds with a gentle touch.
Terry chuckles. "You'd be surprised how much this is helping."
"Would I?" Padma asks, pulling her hand back and wringing the flannel between her fingers. "Be surprised?"
There's been something between them for a while now, lingering just below the surface of their friendship. With every moment more uncertain than the last, Padma wonders if maybe it's time they put words to their unspoken feelings.
Terry cracks one eye open to look at her. "Maybe not."
Padma lifts her hand back to his cheek, without the flannel this time, and Terry leans into her touch. "You should get some rest," she whispers.
"When all of this is over…" Terry begins, wincing as he sits up.
Padma nods, agreeing before he can finish voicing the thought. "Yes."
Padma makes her way up to Ravenclaw Tower, wondering if it will be the last time. She didn't exactly get a proper N.E.W.T. level education this year, but how could she possibly come back? The castle is in shambles, even if she wants to return.
Her house's tower, at least, appears intact. Padma stops in front of the bronze eagle, waiting for a riddle that never comes. The door swings open without a word from the knocker, and Padma takes a cautious step inside.
Aside from a few scattered pillows and one ripped bronze curtain flapping in the breeze of its shattered window, the common room is untouched by the battle that raged below throughout the night. Padma crosses to the window, looking out over the destruction. Her eyes rake over the charred earth and the pieces of the castle that litter the ground, and a single thought forces itself to the forefront of her mind.
Voldemort is dead.
They lost a lot of people in the process—Padma's heart clenches as she thinks of her sister, who refuses to leave Lavender's side in the Great Hall—but good triumphs over evil, and that has to count for something.
Footsteps on the dormitory staircase alert Padma to the fact that she's not alone, and she spins with her wand held high, just in case. Terry holds his hands up in a show of surrender, and Padma pockets her wand as she manages a smile.
"Are you all right?" Terry asks.
She's not—none of them are—but Padma knows what he means. Her physical safety is no longer in question, and aside from some minor scrapes, she has managed to come through the battle unscathed.
Padma nods as Terry crosses the room in slow, measured steps, still recovering from the injuries dealt by the Carrows the night before. After word got out about Harry Potter breaking into Gringotts, Terry had shouted about it at dinner and received his worst punishment yet from the school's heads of discipline.
The smile on his face eases her worries to an extent, but she can't help asking, seeking assurance that he, too, is okay. "You?"
As okay as they can be, at least.
The damage from last night looks even worse now, as the bruises darken and the cuts have multiplied as a result of the overnight battle, but still Terry replies, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."
He stops mere inches from Padma, and she reaches for his torn and dirty jumper, twisting her fingers in the fabric. "It's all over now, you know."
That conversation feels like a lifetime ago, but now that the war is won, Padma wants to look toward the future. She wants that future to include Terry, and she's tired of waiting to find out if he feels the same.
He doesn't leave her wondering for long. The grin splits across Terry's face only an instant before he sweeps Padma into his arms, crushing his lips to hers.
Finally.