The Parents

The Parents

"He's just a friend who's been helping in the store."

"Even your father knows better than that, dears," said Mrs. Patil to her two daughters.

Padma and Parvati had brought Harry to a family social occasion. Their mother's sister and her husband ran an import-export business of both magic and mundane items. The Brit wizard economy was down, but the mundane items were doing well, and the Brit wizard jewelry was selling at a number of mundane locations. They were celebrating their success by a catered buffet.

Padma and Parvati had been worried about Harry and the spicy food, and they had been worried about his fitting in, but he had sampled the food carefully, and he and their male relatives were deep into sports and the poor economy.

Trouble is always the unexpected.

"He's taking advantage of you," said Mrs. Patil.

Parvati recalled the time she had cornered Harry for a snog when he had helped her move some heavy jugs of extract. It was becoming more and more natural to corner him.

Padma recalled the time she had lured Harry into a snog when he had helped her fetch several boxes of herbs. It was getting easier and easier to lure him someplace.

"His chasing both of you is going to ruin your reputations and break your hearts," said Mrs. Patil.

Parvati remembered pressing her breasts against Harry and feeling extra tingly knowing that within the hour Padma would be pressing her breasts against him.

Padma remembered holding Harry and feeling warmer and damper knowing that an hour ago Parvati had been holding him and feeling all warm and damp.

"Well, as unsuitable as he is, maybe he will be decent enough to choose one of you," said Mrs. Patil.

Padma thought about Harry never again giving her sister that mischievous grin. The light left the room.

Parvati thought about Harry never again giving her sister that special smile. The air left the room.

"Be that as it may," said Mrs. Patil, "your father is still negotiating with Mr. Chanda. He might take Parvati, but he's asking more than your father can afford now."

"He's only forty years older than I am, and he can put a bag over my head at night," sighed Parvati. "Then he can go count my dowry."

"Parvati, your father is doing his best," said Mrs. Patil.

The two sisters had a contingency plan for such an occasion. The sister in question would tell her fiancé that they should marry soon because she was pregnant but didn't know who the father was. A week later, she would say the wedding needn't be rushed because she wasn't pregnant after all and she was in no hurry to change her life. If that didn't do the trick, she would reconsider and suggest an early wedding because although she wasn't pregnant it could happen anytime and if she were married the child would have a father.

Mrs. Patil patted Padma's hand. "Your father is trying his best for you, too."

The three women knew what the problem was. Padma's injury was hidden, but she could become a cripple, unable to perform her domestic and wifely duties. The two girls recalled that Harry, emboldened by their growing intimacy, had been insisting that they rest at the cash register while he stocked the shelves and brewed potions. Padma, freed from over-exertion, was moving around better these days.

"We should rejoin the party," said Mrs. Patil, rising to leave. "But you two need to freshen up. You look like your best friend just died."

Padma and Parvati wanted to locate Harry for a hug.

After their mother left, Parvati spoke first. "Do you think we're immoral, that we're perverts?"

Padma was a bit depressed and spoke quietly. "I've never asked you. It just happened. Do you mind that I snog him? I like it that he likes you."

"I'm glad that he likes you," said Parvati.

"I am jealous sometimes," admitted Padma. "You have the bubbly personality that he likes.

"I'm the one who's jealous," said Parvati. "You have the serious personality that he likes."

"Hmm," went the two girls, thinking their parents were pushing things too far and too fast, thinking their parents were too eager to get their daughters married off.

Their mother had driven them to a gloomy outlook about the two of them and Harry. "This shouldn't be possible. This shouldn't be happening," said Padma. "Do you think he's playing with us, leading us on?"

Neither of them had noticed any evil intent or mendacity. Harry was the opposite of a smooth seducer, and the sisters appreciated that. They were equal partners in a great adventure.

"It would be a great adventure if Harry really likes us," they both worried. "Maybe our parents are right. He can't like both of us, and his being with both of us means he doesn't really like either one of us."

They concluded none of them knew what they were doing but it felt right. They decided they should pry Harry loose from the party and take him home early. They needed some quality time with him before he returned to his school lodgings.

* * *

Mrs. Patil was upset. Her sister and others had informed her that her daughters' behavior was shameful. Mr. Chanda had haughtily announced he was no longer seeking Parvati's hand. She had done the best she could to stop the public scandal by having the Ministry issue an edict banning Harry Potter from the store. Now, other friends were telling her she was driving her daughters straight into Harry Potter's bed. The worst of it was her husband had been no help in the first place and was not supportive now.

"We can protect our daughters from Harry Potter if they want to be protected from him," he said. "Otherwise, not."

He tried to console her. "They're not going to do anything foolish. The two of them always talk everything over."

"Are you telling me my daughters will talk about it and decide to sleep with him?" wailed Mrs. Patil, who was not the least bit consoled by her husband's infuriating reasonableness.

It came to Mr. Patil that the household was quieter and life easier since his two daughters had moved to the store. He would never admit that to his wife although he was certain she was thinking the same and didn't want to admit it. He thought about someone voluntarily living with both of his daughters. 'Not if he has half a brain,' he thought. But even he had to acknowledge his daughters were lovely and could be most gracious. 'Young men don't have half a brain,' he thought. 'I know I didn't. What does that Australian bloke on the telly say? "That's nature's way."'

"I'll talk to them," he told his wife.

"And what will you tell them? Be sure to talk it over before you sleep with him and ruin the family reputation?" asked his exasperated wife.

"If they were sons instead of daughters, no one would fuss," he reminded his wife. "But we had daughters, not sons. Our daughters, not our sons, went to war. Our daughters, not our sons, are running a family business."

His wife wondered what in the world he was carrying on about. She, more than anyone, knew they had daughters instead of sons.

Mr. Patil had arranged to have lunch with his daughters at their store. He walked to the shop, once again grateful that his wife and daughters were no longer under they same roof...saving his eardrums and his nerves from another assault. He couldn't say that of course, no more than he could say he was glad he no longer had to tolerate Mr. Chanda.

* * *

"He helps in the store," said Parvati as soon as they had closed the shop and taken their father upstairs for lunch. "He saved us by brewing potions and stocking shelves during the Holidays. We thought everyone would be grateful."

"He reads and grades papers and watches the cash register," said Padma. "He can't do as much this term as last term because this term he's teaching the first five years of Defense Against the Dark Arts. It's a lot of work for a beginning teacher. We thought the family would appreciate that he's still trying to help us."

"He feels bad that he didn't face the Dark Lord. He's adjusting to living an ordinary life," said Parvati. "We wanted him to feel welcome with our family."

"We hoped you and Mum would accept him as a friend," said Padma, "not insult him."

"You two are becoming more like your mother every day," said Mr. Patil.

"Dad!"

"How can you say that!"

He reminded his daughters how protective their mother was, how the malicious rumors had hurt her, and how she would probably rescind the Ministry restraint herself once she had calmed down.

Mr. Patil listened as his daughters protested that they had behaved properly, as they agreed they could try to be more careful, and as they asserted there was nothing they could do if people wanted to spread malicious gossip. He agreed they had behaved properly. He did not mention the main problem: it was obvious both of them were attracted to Harry and Harry to both of them. He did not think there was any way the three could hide that.

Mr. Patil returned to his office. His wife had vented; his daughters had vented. He calmed himself by walking around and chatting to various co-workers. He reflected that by listening to his daughters talk about Harry without protesting, he had given his tacit consent to the relationship, but he realized there was no alternative. The restraining order from his wife had jeopardized family relations, and he had had to make concessions.

Back at his desk, Mr. Patil remembered that he had met Harry Potter before. During the battle, he and his wife had been part of the escort for Potter, Weasley, and Granger. The escort would make the final effort to get Potter to the Dark Lord. The Opposition army had chosen mature witches and wizards for the task, thinking they would see the task through to its bitter end. They had experienced the first rise of the Dark Lord, and they knew the terrible consequences of failure.

But the escort was not needed. When they heard the Dark Lord was dead, Mr. and Mrs. Patil, like others in an inexperienced army, had broken ranks to search for their friends and relatives. They had found their daughters with the few survivors of Forlorn Hope One and had taken them to hospital. Mr. Patil had returned to the battle field to help others. He had arrived to find a nervous army back on the alert after a surprise attack from an unknown quarter.

He had followed the trail of the Forlorn Hopes, sinking deeper into despair as he had passed the still bodies. 'The Department of Mysteries is gone,' he had thought. 'They were crazies, but they'll be missed.' Mr. Patil had reached the spot where the Dark Lord had met his end. Mr. Patil had stood there, staring blankly ahead, overcome by the loses. He had become aware that Flitwick and Higgins were standing on either side of him and trying to rouse him from his stunned state. Together, the three of them had mustered enough fortitude to search for those still living and take them to hospital. 'There's a reason there's only one war per generation,' he had thought.

* * *

"Did you talk to your daughters?" asked Mrs. Patil when her husband arrived home.

"Yes, but you need to talk to them about contraceptives."

"Oh my gods, has that Potter brat defiled them?"

"No," said Mr. Patil. "And he may never, but we want to be safe. Besides, 'defiling them' may not be the right way to describe it."

"I get to do the hard part," said Mrs. Patil. "And what do you mean that's not the right way to describe it?"

"They may be serious about each other."

'Men,' she thought. 'They're useless. Of course it's serious. That's what I've been trying to tell him. How can he calmly stand by while his daughters are defiled and the family humiliated.'

Mr. Patil, having used up his emotional reserve for the day, settled into his chair with the evening paper. His afternoon reminisces about the battle had given him a somber perspective that was immune to scandal. If they were going to have a threesome, there was precious little he could do about it. What precious little he could do was to keep the fiery females of the family together. He ran through what he knew. His daughters had become re-acquainted with Potter at the dance four months ago. His best guess was that the two of them were snogging the living daylights out of the poor bloke. Under normal circumstances, if it were a pair, he would expect them to start having sex in about two months. A threesome would create more barriers to cross. If they remained together, they would start having sex in about four months...plenty of time for their mother to calm down and for everyone to be reasonable and prudent about the whole affair.

Mr. Patil was a moderate man who was careful what he asked of the gods and fate. He had asked that his daughters live through the war. He would not make another request until it was time to ask that his grandchildren be healthy. He would work out the rest himself.

Propelled by forces that baffled her, Mrs. Patil began massaging her husband's shoulders. She had been doing this almost every evening for several months, and the consequences were always the same. When his shoulders were relaxed, she changed to massaging his chest. He took her hand and led her around the chair to his lap. When she was younger, she would let an argument interfere with this.

She took it slow, beginning with stroking his temples. Her fingers let him know she was a gentle soul who was ready for any affection he would like to bestow upon her. Her lips and tongue showed a willingness to reciprocate any attention he decided to give her. Her body moving against his said she was a warm-hearted person who would return any passion he felt for her. Her whispered words said she was ready to receive him any time he desired her. Her tender embraces displayed an eagerness for him to take her any way he wanted to have her. Her deep moans let him know that he could do her...right here and right now would be fine.

Some time later, a contented lady served a simple evening meal. But times were hard, and she could not spend the hours after dinner relaxing with her husband. The two worked in the Ministry instead of in any of the family businesses, but they were experts at accounting and paperwork. After dinner, because the family could not afford to hire help, she and her husband did accounts and completed official forms for several shops.

Mr. Patil, not much the worse for wear and tear, was more convinced than before that saying someone had "defiled" or "taken advantage" of two Patil women would not be an accurate description.

Mrs. Patil was reconsidering. 'Maybe he's not completely useless. He talked to them, and the family is still together. He loves his daughters, and he's not going to abandon them. I hadn't considered how terrible it would have been if he had gone into a rage and disowned them. If they have feelings for each other, perhaps I should let romance and passion take its course. That's what my husband and I did. It's a struggle now, but we're okay because we have each other.' She sighed. 'Oh, this is going to be so embarrassing.'

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Author and Beta Note: And so, dear reader, our characters are at the crossroads. Can Hermione locate Severus? Can Severus trust Hermione? Will Hermione pursue Jack? Who will Harry choose? Will the Patil family accept him? Will Jack survive the Black sisters? Can he protect them from Hermione? Can he learn French?