Harry Potter One Shots

The Festival of Lights, Love and Laddoos.

Part of the Secret Santa One-Shot Exchange hosted by @chessurK
By @hxrini
For @wearealive125

A soft beam of sunshine caressed the sleeping brunette’s face, who promptly turned away, only to have
the sun hitting her square in the face. “Why must the Hufflepuff common room be so damn sunny, all the fucking time?” She grumbled to herself, sighing as she ran her fingers through her messy, knotted hair.

Remnants of last nights “study session”, otherwise known as a snog-fest, with her boyfriend, were scattered across
her bed and dresser, including two upturned books at the foot of her bed, accompanied by a green and silver tie, obviously not belonging to her, an aforementioned Hufflepuff. She stood up, looking at her splotchy face, while picking a grey boy’s cardigan off her lamp.

It was then that she noticed the word
‘Diwali’ shining from the magical calendar sitting on her dresser, a gift from her sister Radha.

She felt something shift inside of her. Memories of last Diwali flooded her brain. She could practically see Radha’s excited grin as she lit another firecracker customary to the festival. But she could never see that lop-sided smile, thanks to Fenrir Greyback. The thought of her mother further saddened her.

She pulled out a lilac, cloth-covered hatbox, with “Priya Kumaran” embroidered in silver, from one of her drawers. She opened it, to find a wide assortment of things, a teal hand mirror, a couple of letters, a hand-
knit scarf, among many others.

She rummaged through the box, later straightening up, with what
appeared to be a picture clasped between her fingers. The picture was the only photographic evidence of Priya’s family. The picture had been the first wizarding-style picture they’d ever taken, hence you could see Priya smiling for a second, and then reaching out to touch her hair, and Radha picking her nose, having already forgotten that they had to sit still for atleast a minute, not seconds, like Muggle photos.

Priya’s mother was the only one who was smiling gracefully into the camera, having remembered the photographer’s instructions, despite not being a witch at all.

Tears welled up in her eyes as her thoughts switched from the picture to last Diwali. The Indian minority of Hogwarts had organized a night of festivities, which concluded with them bursting firecrackers out by
the Forbidden Forest.

Radha and a few others had ventured into the Forest, hoping to set off the Sutli
bomb-one of the biggest and loudest firework to ever exist. Apparently, one of Padma’s cousins had smuggled it from India and had even magically enhanced it to make the noise ten time times louder.

It was due to this Radha had ventured into the forest alone, being the only one courageous enough. When Radha hadn’t returned for ages, Priya’s mind began to worry. She’d been gone for a fairly long time, and they hadn’t even heard the Sutli bomb go off.

It was finally after midnight that everyone decided to head out in search of Radha. After a fair bit of searching, Parvati’s piercing scream is what signaled the truth
of Priya’s deepest fears.

The intensity of these thoughts were too much for Priya to now handle. She broke down, clutching the photograph tightly to her chest, wondering how in the world will she able to face the others. She couldn’t
bear to see the sympathetic glances that others threw at her, the whispers behind her back, these were too much to handle. She wrapped herself in her duvet, hoping no one would come looking for her.

A shift in the weight of the bed was what awoke Priya. The boy who was now resting one knee on her bed, apparently looking for something was flustered. “I didn’t mean to wake y—Priya, are you alright?”

Seeing Priya’s tear-streaked face was not a common occurrence. Neither is seeing her in her bra. The perverse side of the boy’s brain whispered. But there she sat, the unbreakable, happy-go-lucky with red eyes and tears streaming down her face.

The boy shuffled over to Priya’s side and gave her an awkward one-armed hug. She shifted over and the boy took her in his arms. He knew what he was going through, although he may not have lost a father
literally, he did one metaphorically. Priya hugged him closer, and the boy clasped her tiny hand is his gigantic. She broke down again.

Once the sniffles and the hiccups had stopped, the boy tilted Priya’s chin so that she was now looking up at him. Hazel stared into silver. “I-uh,” his voice faltered, “meant to give this to you at breakfast but I
think…” He trailed off.

In his arms he held a round hatbox, similar to hers in color and fabric. It even had her name in messy, nonetheless, similar silver embroidery. She opened it to find it full of sweets and savories, similar to ones her
mum made at home. Jalebies, ladoos, gulaab jamun, farsan, it was endless.

However this wasn’t what surprised her the most. A silver piece of parchment at the bottom of the box contained the words ‘I love you Priya’ written in traditional Hindi.

“H-how did you manage to do all of this?” She stammered?

“Narcissa’s best friend is Indian.” He replied, turning crimson, as she shot him a pointed look.

“Hey! I did the embroidery myself!”

It was then that it hit her. “Wait, how on earth did you get into the girls’ dormitory?” He mimicked zipping his lips, as he pulled her in for a kiss, a hand sneaking round her waist.

“A little flick of my wand, that’s how. Now, how about we continue last night’s—”
She pushed him away, with a grin on her face, “You may charm your way into the girls’ dormitory, Draco Malfoy, but you won’t charm your way into round two.”
//FIN//

A/N: Here are the definitions of some Indian terms you may have encountered during this fic:
Diwali: Popular festival in India, celebrated around Halloween (late October, early November). Jovially
called the “Festival of Lights”. Originally celebrated to mark Lord Rama’s return from 14 years of exile.
Sutli bomb: One of the biggest, noisiest firecrackers in all of India. Its sound is several dB above the safe
limit.
Jaliebies, Ladoos, Gulaab Jamun: Popular sweets in India. Not limited to Diwali, enjoyed all year around.
Farsan: A savory snack, more on the salty side, than spicy. Again, not limited to Diwali.