Author’s Note: It seems as of late, I’ve been the champion
of the back story characters. Being in
love with the Marauders, I should be used to it by now. And yet, when I find two characters that I
enjoy for their spirit and spunk…it always surprises me when they come to me
and want me (of all people) to tell their story. I hope I do them justice. So many thanks goes
to Jules…she knows why. And to St.
Margaret’s – she gives me something to strive for each and every time I set my
fingers to tapping on my keyboard.
Prologue
It would only be a short few
hours until the time to say good-bye to Dumbledore and Lavender Brown had no
one to speak to. Parvati was gone. Hermione would not be someone to be consulted
for this subject. For the first time
since she’d arrived at Hogwarts, she was truly alone with her thoughts.
She came upon him in the deep window seat of the
Gryffindor Common Room. He was leaning
against the wall framing the window, with his legs angled in front of him, arms
resting on knees. The light filtered
through his sandy colored hair. Even
without turning his head, she knew the familiar green eyes that were looking
onto the grounds. Light years seemed to
have passed since this nice boy had taken her to the Yule Ball. He spied her watching and patted the cushion
next to himself. She sat down, tucking
one leg under and peered out the window.
“How are ya farin’, my girl?”
Sighing, she remembered how Seamus
always made her feel - like she belonged in Gryffindor for a reason, like she
was a part of all that went on.
Shrugging her shoulders in response, she fingered the fringe of her
jeans.
“Should we go for a walk,
maybe? Fresh air might do you some
good.”
Shrugging again, she watched him get
to his feet. He extended a hand toward
her. She took it and felt the familiar
tug to her feet. Silence greeted them it seemed as if the whole of Hogwarts’
including its grounds, were in mourning. By mutual agreement they found a spot
and seated themselves, watching the sun drop lower in the sky. The quiet stretched out ahead of them, and
yet she couldn’t find her voice.
“I fought with my Mam.”
“I heard.”
“I feel bad about that. Stubborn
Irish woman, she is, Lavender.”
“I’m sorry, Seamus.”
Silence greeted them again. She felt the boiling anger and frustration
rise up in her throat again. Part of her
felt so foolish for feeling this way when Dumbledore had been killed, but
losing Ron still hurt.
“Seamus?”
“Aye?”
“Am I ugly or dumb?”
She turned to find a look of
incredulity on his face. She knew what
he was thinking. Silly frivolous girl. Now she felt it, too. Quickly turning back
towards the lake, her face burned with embarrassment. Feeling a warm pressure
on her shoulder, she peeked out of the corner of her eye. Seamus’ pale, freckled hand lay upon her
purple sweater.
“Did he tell you that?”
“No, I just feel that way. I’m not smart like Hermione. She’s pretty when she tries to be. And I like her. But I just don’t get it, is all.”
“Aw my’girl. You’re right smart and you know you’re well…”
His voice dropped an octave lower. “…pretty.
You know that, Lavender.”
“I don’t know that, Seamus.” She turned to look at him squarely.
“Well I do. I know it.”
Then reaching for her arm, he trailed his fingers down until he found
her hand. Holding it, he held her
gaze. After a time, she scooted back
and rested her head upon his shoulder.
Finding the familiar woolly sweater under her cheek, she sighed. And as his thumb brushed over her knuckles,
she felt a bit better. Maybe she wasn’t
dumb, after all.
“Seamus?”
“Mmmm?”
“Is there any way we could write to
one another over the summer? If it’s not
too much trouble for you, or won’t make your mum mad.”
Again his thumb rubbed over the tops
of her knuckles, as she felt a bit of a feeling of butterflies in her stomach.
“I’ll try me hardest to write to
ya. My penmanship’s crap, you know?”
A small giggle escaped from her
mouth, as she looked up at him…and smiled.
