Part V: Lav you like I should (19th December, 2002)
Title: Tart Noir Around and About Vertick Alley
Rating: PG-13
Warning: language, mild sexual content
Genre: Tart Noir, crime-romance
Pairings: Lavender/Zacharias, Draco/Ron, Susan/Blaise, Zacharias/Ginny ...
Summary: Lavender Brown is part of the investigation into the murders of the children of Death Eaters and is madly in love with her flatmate and best friend, Zacharias Smith. Ron Weasley is babysitting Draco Malfoy and sick of being gay in a terribly straight Wizarding World. Susan Bones doesn't get patronuses and is not having a relationship with Blaise Zabini. Zacharias Smith is sick of his job and thinks he might ask Ginny Weasley to move in with him. Mr Darcy, the flatmate's cat, thinks they're all bloody ridiculous. Four twenty-one year olds suffering with work, love and life.
Anywhere but here would be nice right now.
I’m stuck in a stifling lab just five or so days until Christmas, processing samples that have come back from impurity testing with the Ministry of Spells and Curses. It’s the silver paint, which is continuing to freak me out.
My memory is terrible though so for all I know it could be something I watched on TV. It just feels so much more close to home.
Wizzpop is on the radio and I’m bopping along, trying to forget why exactly I’m putting these spells on the samples, when Shacklebolt pokes his head around the door.
“Turn that off,” he says, grimacing as the most inane lyrics blast out from the radio. “Or at least down.”
“Our wands afire, our hearts ablaze, you put me in such a da-a-a-aze,” I croon, switching it off. “What’s up?”
“Are you finished yet?” He’s getting used to me. That sucks.
“Almost. Your files are at the top of my list.”
“Such a charmer, Brown.”
“You mean it wasn’t my dazzling good looks that attracted you here?”
He doesn’t seem to know how to answer that one. “Well, carry on with them and send them to Padma and Seamus when you’re done. I’m following Hermione to a scene.”
“Have fun,” I say. “Don’t miss me too much.”
I take a look back at the tests I’m running. A few of the samples are starting to react and print results onto the parchment they’re soaked in. It’s a handy wee spell that saves me a lot of work and is more accurate than the Do It Yourself And Stuff It Up approach.
When the parchment is dried out, I take a look at the results and head on down to the office Padma and Seamus share.
I can hear the murmur of their voices and knock. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”
“Course not Brownie.” Seamus flashes me a grin. “What have you got for us?”
“Well, I stuck the blood samples in Frescie’s Fluid. Came back all from the one donor. So our killer didn’t have a parchment cut or anything.”
“Did you do anything with the paint?” Padma asks impatiently. They couldn’t care less about the blood. It’s almost always one donor.
I can feel the grin stretch across my face. “The silver paint. Yeah, I took a glance at that. Stuck it in Revelato Solution.”
“What did it reveal, Lav?” Padma asks.
“The silver paint is a somewhat rare brand of paint. It’s oil-based and traditionally used on canvases. Plus, it’s only sold at three little art boutiques in Muggle London - Littlejohn’s, Quills and Indian Inks.”
“Dude, you rock,” Seamus says, hugging me. He’s crazy.
“Thanks Lav, that’s going to narrow down our search somewhat.”
“I was just wondering if you guys knew if there was paint flecks on the body of Nott. ‘Cause if I could compare them, I might be able to narrow it down even further. Or find some brush residue that could lead you to one store.”
“I’ll head to the morgue.” Seamus gets up. “It’ll be nice to have a chat with Pansy again anyway.” Pansy Parkinson is the mortician at the Ministry. Blunt as a plastic knife and likes poking her nose into other people’s business, she’s my primary source of gossip.
“I’ll come with you,” I say. “I’ve got a few minutes to kill before shift ends.”
We knock on the door to the Morgue. “Bugger off,” Pansy calls, deep hoarse voice ravaged from hundreds of cigarettes. “I’m terribly busy.”
“Hah,” I mutter and, ignoring the look from her Hit Wizard bodyguard, I open the door.
“Oh, it’s you two,” she says, putting down the Witch Weekly and whipping the glasses off her nose. “Thought it might be Shacklebolt, or worse, that idiot outside guarding me.”
“You wouldn’t be saying that if Ron was stationed on you.”
“Yes, I would. That boy’s an idiot. I’ve always said so.” Pansy removes her feet from their resting place on one of the morgue trays and stands up. “What can I help you with?”
“Another look at the Nott body,” Seamus says. “Pretty please?”
“Is there sugar with that? I’m…”
“You’re on a diet,” we chorus. Her jokes are just lame.
She sniffs. “Whatever. You’re lucky, he’s being handed over to the family tomorrow.” She whirls her wand and one of the trays flicks out from behind a door. “There you go.” Seamus takes out his wand and bends over the prone form.
“So, Lav,” she continues. “Here for your gossip session?”
“Yup, anything to report?”
“You just about cleared me out last time. Plus, for some reason, Parvati Patil seems to be getting news before me and printing it in her damn column.” She throws the magazine at me and I flick through to Parvati’s Piece.
“Getting top gossip is hard,” I read. “Sometimes you have to eavesdrop on bar convesations, especially when you’re getting married and can’t flirt your way into exciting information. But rumour has it, from the pair who were arguing behind me in the Leaky Cauldron, Blaise Zabini is looking to ask Susan Bones to the Annual Yuletide Ball and Cho Chang is to be the next Under-secretary to the Minister after the retirement of Dolores Umbridge.”
“Parvati didn’t tell me about Cho! I’ll be having words with her. Can’t say I’m surprised though.”
“So, Susan and Blaise, huh? I knew they had something going on but for him to ask her to the Yuletide Ball …”
“That sounds like it’s getting serious. I wonder if she’ll accept.”
“She’d be a fool not to. It’ll give her so many connections. Besides, the place is notorious for marriage proposals,” Pansy adds, winking at me.
“Susan would completely rain on that parade. She sees herself as an individual, a loner.”
“She’ll end up being eaten alive by her thirty cats if she doesn’t judge the situation more wisely. How long have they not been together?”
“Three years. I know, it’s ridiculous. You see them together and know that they’re so happy.”
“Well, there’s not much I can do about it. It’s up to you, Lav,” Pansy says. Although her friendship with Blaise is strong, she hardly knows Susan and certainly not well enough to talk about relationships with her.
Fair enough too. I wouldn’t talk about it with her if I was the last person on earth.
“What’d I miss?” Seamus asks eagerly. “Lav, I’ve found some paint on the body and I’ve sent it up to the lab.”
“Good-o. We’re just talking about Suse and Blaise.”
“Y’know, I’ve never understood them,” Seamus muses, ruffling a hand through his sandy locks. “They seem so right for each other.”
“They’ve got me stumped too,” I say, sighing. “Anyway, our shift is ending. Are we going for drinks or are we going to hang around in a mortuary all evening?”
“The latter I’m sure,” Pansy drawls. “Have fun with your Mai Tais and Firewhiskey shots. Don’t worry about me.”
“We won’t,” we chorus.
“You make the sweetest couple.”
“Dick. We’re not together,” all too aware that I’ve explained this a thousand times before. “We just understand the pangs of unrequited love.”
“So true.” Seamus swoons theatrically and I catch him. He’s littler than me anyway.
“Well, best be off. Tra-la, Parkinson,” I simper. She glares. Sucks being the only halfway decent mortician in the country - you’re constantly pulling double shifts.
“Shall we ask Padma to join us, Seamus?” I ask sweetly.
“Let’s not,” he suggests. “How about I send Zachie an owl.”
“Dick.”
“Thank you.”
We end up seeing Zacharias and Ginny at The Leaky Cauldron anyway. They’re having a drink and a gossip with Harry, Parvati and Hermione.
“Thought you were on a case, Granger,” I say.
Hermione rolls her eyes. “I was. Kingsley relieved for me.”
“Ah, so he really was meeting you at a scene.”
“What did you think, Lav? We were going to go at it like rabbits the minute we left the Ministry? Some of us have self-control.”
I’m affronted. “I have self-control!”
Hermione coughs something that sounds a lot like Won-won. “Bitch,” I say.
“Just honest.”
We settle down. I’m in uncomfortably close proximity to Zacharias because the tables should really only seat four. This is exactly what Seamus intended, I can tell. Zacharias is avoiding my gaze and doesn’t flash me his usual lazy smile when I grin at him.
“What’s up Smith?” I ask, while Ginny’s having a heated discussion with Hermione about broomsticks, of all things.
“Nothing,” he said. He’s got this false cheery look on his face now. “Y’know, can I tell you something?”
“Sure.” I lean forward, knowing that it’s going to be about Ginny.
“I’m going to ask Ginny to move in with me,” he whispers. “Like, leave the flat and get our own apartment.”
I don’t realise how much I care about him until I hear ‘leave the flat’. “You can’t!” I hiss. “I’ll-We’ll miss you too much. Besides, you haven’t been together for very long.”
“I like her a lot,” Zacharias says. I can’t believe he’s serious. Or that he’s talking about this to me. “I think we’re ready. I’m going to ask her in a few days. We have our anniversary on the twenty-second.”
“Whatever.” I shift my gaze from his piercing blue eyes. “Seamus, can I shift seats with you? I have a bone to pick with Parvati.”
He grins and waggles an eyebrow. “Sure.”
We swap, me almost slopping drink all over myself. Zacharias looks at me in a curious way, but then he turns and touches Ginny’s shoulder and whispers something in her ear.
“We’re going to take off now,” she says, smiling. “See you all soon.”
“I’ll get going too,” Harry says. “I’ll see you at home, Parv.” He kisses her and the three apparate off.
I feel like crying. There’s this odd catch in my chest, like my heart has got stuck somewhere between my ribs. Parvati notices and squeezes my hand. Seamus lets his foot graze mine under the table and Hermione orders another Firewhiskey for me.
“What’s wrong baby?” Parvati asks. “Zacharias said something to hurt you, didn’t he?”
The waterworks come. “He’s asking her to-to move in with hiiim,” I wail, utterly humiliated. “He’s going to leave me all on my own.”
Hermione looks slightly shocked. I feel Parvati’s arm snake around my back and rub it until I the hiccupping tears cease.
“Drink up, Lav. No one can be depressed with a good dose of Firewhiskey inside them,” Seamus says, offering a glass that’s just arrived at the table.
Irish logic.
“Thanks,” I gulp. “Sorry guys.”
“Hey, it’s alright,” Hermione says. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really. I think I’ve made enough of a spectacle of myself for one evening,” I say, looking in my compact at the redness of my eyes.
“Honestly,” Hermione tuts. She waves her wand and my eyes are clear.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. I learnt that one when you two ostracised me in first year.” She’s almost alarmingly frank at times. And has a memory like an elephant.
“We’re a depressing bunch, aren’t we?” I say.
“Seamus isn’t,” Parvati says, grinning. “His face is all lit up.”
He buries his head in his hands. “Oh! It’s Padma,” I cry. “Padma! Oi!”
She comes over. She’s so pretty and, although indentical in looks to Parvati, the similarity ends there. “Hi. Just thought I’d get a drink after work. Hi Hermione, Seamus, Sis.”
“Shove over Finnegan. Give the lady some room,” I say. Padma’s arrival is definitely cheering. They are soon deep into the flirting banter that comes so naturally from the pair of them and I’m left to look on and smile.
“Lav, there’s an attractive guy at the bar, looking at you,” Hermione whispers, loud enough for Parvati to hear.
“Oooh, where? No, don’t look Lav.”
“He’s probably looking at me to find out if I’m always that stupid and embarrassing,” I remark wryly, rolling my eyes at Hermione’s obvious attempt at cheering me up. I know very well that scruffy brown hair and short legs are not what a guy is looking for when he goes to a bar.
“He’s coming over!” Hermione hisses. I look up. He is very attractive. And also very Dean Thomas.
“Lavender Brown! I thought I recognised you. More beautiful than ever.”
Seamus looks over and grins. “Dean you wanker! You didn’t say you were back in London.”
“I wasn’t, until a short while ago. And my God, it’s Hermione Granger and Parvati and Padma - quite the Hogwarts reunion.”
“Quite,” Parvati says cooly. She’s never liked Dean much.
“Sit with us,” Hermione says, beaming. “What’ve you been up to?”
Dean smiles. “I’ve been in Canada, painting. Getting my muse back, as it were.”
“Bloody artistic types,” Seamus says, grinning.
“Don’t be an idiot, Finnegan,” Padma says.
“You know you want me, Patil.” So painfully drunk.
“Stop flirting with me, Seamus. So Dean, what’ve you been painting?”
It’s good to talk to Dean again. He’s still got that loveable quality around him and he’s so easy with everyone. Parvati doesn’t seem impressed with his charm though. She’s tapping her foot impatiently, waiting for the polite time to leave.
“Lav, don’t you have work tomorrow morning?” she says pointedly.
“Oh yeah.” Parvati’s got me out of a lot of awkward situations. It’s about time I returned the favour really.
“I’ll walk home with you. You’re in no state to apparate.”
I actually haven’t had very much to drink, but it does work out nicely.
“Well, it was lovely to see you Dean,” she trills. “Must go though. Au revoir.”
“Good bye, Parvati,” he says. “We should catch up sometime.”
“Sure,” she agrees. “You know my name if you want to owl me. Come on Lavender.”
“What was that all about?” I ask, as Parvati steers me down Diagon Alley, surprisingly quickly for someone in stilettos.
“I don’t like him.”
“Well, I don’t like people but I don’t avoid them quite so obviously.”
“We have a history. No! Not a romantic one. I would’ve told you if it was something like that,” she adds, seeing the look on my face.
We continue in silence until we’re outside the flat. “Night hun, glad I could be of service,” I say.
“I’ll see you soon.” She apparates away.
I apparate into my bedroom so that there’s no chance of me bumping into Zacharias Smith.
Rating: PG-13
Warning: language, mild sexual content
Genre: Tart Noir, crime-romance
Pairings: Lavender/Zacharias, Draco/Ron, Susan/Blaise, Zacharias/Ginny ...
Summary: Lavender Brown is part of the investigation into the murders of the children of Death Eaters and is madly in love with her flatmate and best friend, Zacharias Smith. Ron Weasley is babysitting Draco Malfoy and sick of being gay in a terribly straight Wizarding World. Susan Bones doesn't get patronuses and is not having a relationship with Blaise Zabini. Zacharias Smith is sick of his job and thinks he might ask Ginny Weasley to move in with him. Mr Darcy, the flatmate's cat, thinks they're all bloody ridiculous. Four twenty-one year olds suffering with work, love and life.
Anywhere but here would be nice right now.
I’m stuck in a stifling lab just five or so days until Christmas, processing samples that have come back from impurity testing with the Ministry of Spells and Curses. It’s the silver paint, which is continuing to freak me out.
My memory is terrible though so for all I know it could be something I watched on TV. It just feels so much more close to home.
Wizzpop is on the radio and I’m bopping along, trying to forget why exactly I’m putting these spells on the samples, when Shacklebolt pokes his head around the door.
“Turn that off,” he says, grimacing as the most inane lyrics blast out from the radio. “Or at least down.”
“Our wands afire, our hearts ablaze, you put me in such a da-a-a-aze,” I croon, switching it off. “What’s up?”
“Are you finished yet?” He’s getting used to me. That sucks.
“Almost. Your files are at the top of my list.”
“Such a charmer, Brown.”
“You mean it wasn’t my dazzling good looks that attracted you here?”
He doesn’t seem to know how to answer that one. “Well, carry on with them and send them to Padma and Seamus when you’re done. I’m following Hermione to a scene.”
“Have fun,” I say. “Don’t miss me too much.”
I take a look back at the tests I’m running. A few of the samples are starting to react and print results onto the parchment they’re soaked in. It’s a handy wee spell that saves me a lot of work and is more accurate than the Do It Yourself And Stuff It Up approach.
When the parchment is dried out, I take a look at the results and head on down to the office Padma and Seamus share.
I can hear the murmur of their voices and knock. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”
“Course not Brownie.” Seamus flashes me a grin. “What have you got for us?”
“Well, I stuck the blood samples in Frescie’s Fluid. Came back all from the one donor. So our killer didn’t have a parchment cut or anything.”
“Did you do anything with the paint?” Padma asks impatiently. They couldn’t care less about the blood. It’s almost always one donor.
I can feel the grin stretch across my face. “The silver paint. Yeah, I took a glance at that. Stuck it in Revelato Solution.”
“What did it reveal, Lav?” Padma asks.
“The silver paint is a somewhat rare brand of paint. It’s oil-based and traditionally used on canvases. Plus, it’s only sold at three little art boutiques in Muggle London - Littlejohn’s, Quills and Indian Inks.”
“Dude, you rock,” Seamus says, hugging me. He’s crazy.
“Thanks Lav, that’s going to narrow down our search somewhat.”
“I was just wondering if you guys knew if there was paint flecks on the body of Nott. ‘Cause if I could compare them, I might be able to narrow it down even further. Or find some brush residue that could lead you to one store.”
“I’ll head to the morgue.” Seamus gets up. “It’ll be nice to have a chat with Pansy again anyway.” Pansy Parkinson is the mortician at the Ministry. Blunt as a plastic knife and likes poking her nose into other people’s business, she’s my primary source of gossip.
“I’ll come with you,” I say. “I’ve got a few minutes to kill before shift ends.”
We knock on the door to the Morgue. “Bugger off,” Pansy calls, deep hoarse voice ravaged from hundreds of cigarettes. “I’m terribly busy.”
“Hah,” I mutter and, ignoring the look from her Hit Wizard bodyguard, I open the door.
“Oh, it’s you two,” she says, putting down the Witch Weekly and whipping the glasses off her nose. “Thought it might be Shacklebolt, or worse, that idiot outside guarding me.”
“You wouldn’t be saying that if Ron was stationed on you.”
“Yes, I would. That boy’s an idiot. I’ve always said so.” Pansy removes her feet from their resting place on one of the morgue trays and stands up. “What can I help you with?”
“Another look at the Nott body,” Seamus says. “Pretty please?”
“Is there sugar with that? I’m…”
“You’re on a diet,” we chorus. Her jokes are just lame.
She sniffs. “Whatever. You’re lucky, he’s being handed over to the family tomorrow.” She whirls her wand and one of the trays flicks out from behind a door. “There you go.” Seamus takes out his wand and bends over the prone form.
“So, Lav,” she continues. “Here for your gossip session?”
“Yup, anything to report?”
“You just about cleared me out last time. Plus, for some reason, Parvati Patil seems to be getting news before me and printing it in her damn column.” She throws the magazine at me and I flick through to Parvati’s Piece.
“Getting top gossip is hard,” I read. “Sometimes you have to eavesdrop on bar convesations, especially when you’re getting married and can’t flirt your way into exciting information. But rumour has it, from the pair who were arguing behind me in the Leaky Cauldron, Blaise Zabini is looking to ask Susan Bones to the Annual Yuletide Ball and Cho Chang is to be the next Under-secretary to the Minister after the retirement of Dolores Umbridge.”
“Parvati didn’t tell me about Cho! I’ll be having words with her. Can’t say I’m surprised though.”
“So, Susan and Blaise, huh? I knew they had something going on but for him to ask her to the Yuletide Ball …”
“That sounds like it’s getting serious. I wonder if she’ll accept.”
“She’d be a fool not to. It’ll give her so many connections. Besides, the place is notorious for marriage proposals,” Pansy adds, winking at me.
“Susan would completely rain on that parade. She sees herself as an individual, a loner.”
“She’ll end up being eaten alive by her thirty cats if she doesn’t judge the situation more wisely. How long have they not been together?”
“Three years. I know, it’s ridiculous. You see them together and know that they’re so happy.”
“Well, there’s not much I can do about it. It’s up to you, Lav,” Pansy says. Although her friendship with Blaise is strong, she hardly knows Susan and certainly not well enough to talk about relationships with her.
Fair enough too. I wouldn’t talk about it with her if I was the last person on earth.
“What’d I miss?” Seamus asks eagerly. “Lav, I’ve found some paint on the body and I’ve sent it up to the lab.”
“Good-o. We’re just talking about Suse and Blaise.”
“Y’know, I’ve never understood them,” Seamus muses, ruffling a hand through his sandy locks. “They seem so right for each other.”
“They’ve got me stumped too,” I say, sighing. “Anyway, our shift is ending. Are we going for drinks or are we going to hang around in a mortuary all evening?”
“The latter I’m sure,” Pansy drawls. “Have fun with your Mai Tais and Firewhiskey shots. Don’t worry about me.”
“We won’t,” we chorus.
“You make the sweetest couple.”
“Dick. We’re not together,” all too aware that I’ve explained this a thousand times before. “We just understand the pangs of unrequited love.”
“So true.” Seamus swoons theatrically and I catch him. He’s littler than me anyway.
“Well, best be off. Tra-la, Parkinson,” I simper. She glares. Sucks being the only halfway decent mortician in the country - you’re constantly pulling double shifts.
“Shall we ask Padma to join us, Seamus?” I ask sweetly.
“Let’s not,” he suggests. “How about I send Zachie an owl.”
“Dick.”
“Thank you.”
We end up seeing Zacharias and Ginny at The Leaky Cauldron anyway. They’re having a drink and a gossip with Harry, Parvati and Hermione.
“Thought you were on a case, Granger,” I say.
Hermione rolls her eyes. “I was. Kingsley relieved for me.”
“Ah, so he really was meeting you at a scene.”
“What did you think, Lav? We were going to go at it like rabbits the minute we left the Ministry? Some of us have self-control.”
I’m affronted. “I have self-control!”
Hermione coughs something that sounds a lot like Won-won. “Bitch,” I say.
“Just honest.”
We settle down. I’m in uncomfortably close proximity to Zacharias because the tables should really only seat four. This is exactly what Seamus intended, I can tell. Zacharias is avoiding my gaze and doesn’t flash me his usual lazy smile when I grin at him.
“What’s up Smith?” I ask, while Ginny’s having a heated discussion with Hermione about broomsticks, of all things.
“Nothing,” he said. He’s got this false cheery look on his face now. “Y’know, can I tell you something?”
“Sure.” I lean forward, knowing that it’s going to be about Ginny.
“I’m going to ask Ginny to move in with me,” he whispers. “Like, leave the flat and get our own apartment.”
I don’t realise how much I care about him until I hear ‘leave the flat’. “You can’t!” I hiss. “I’ll-We’ll miss you too much. Besides, you haven’t been together for very long.”
“I like her a lot,” Zacharias says. I can’t believe he’s serious. Or that he’s talking about this to me. “I think we’re ready. I’m going to ask her in a few days. We have our anniversary on the twenty-second.”
“Whatever.” I shift my gaze from his piercing blue eyes. “Seamus, can I shift seats with you? I have a bone to pick with Parvati.”
He grins and waggles an eyebrow. “Sure.”
We swap, me almost slopping drink all over myself. Zacharias looks at me in a curious way, but then he turns and touches Ginny’s shoulder and whispers something in her ear.
“We’re going to take off now,” she says, smiling. “See you all soon.”
“I’ll get going too,” Harry says. “I’ll see you at home, Parv.” He kisses her and the three apparate off.
I feel like crying. There’s this odd catch in my chest, like my heart has got stuck somewhere between my ribs. Parvati notices and squeezes my hand. Seamus lets his foot graze mine under the table and Hermione orders another Firewhiskey for me.
“What’s wrong baby?” Parvati asks. “Zacharias said something to hurt you, didn’t he?”
The waterworks come. “He’s asking her to-to move in with hiiim,” I wail, utterly humiliated. “He’s going to leave me all on my own.”
Hermione looks slightly shocked. I feel Parvati’s arm snake around my back and rub it until I the hiccupping tears cease.
“Drink up, Lav. No one can be depressed with a good dose of Firewhiskey inside them,” Seamus says, offering a glass that’s just arrived at the table.
Irish logic.
“Thanks,” I gulp. “Sorry guys.”
“Hey, it’s alright,” Hermione says. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really. I think I’ve made enough of a spectacle of myself for one evening,” I say, looking in my compact at the redness of my eyes.
“Honestly,” Hermione tuts. She waves her wand and my eyes are clear.
“Thanks.”
“No problem. I learnt that one when you two ostracised me in first year.” She’s almost alarmingly frank at times. And has a memory like an elephant.
“We’re a depressing bunch, aren’t we?” I say.
“Seamus isn’t,” Parvati says, grinning. “His face is all lit up.”
He buries his head in his hands. “Oh! It’s Padma,” I cry. “Padma! Oi!”
She comes over. She’s so pretty and, although indentical in looks to Parvati, the similarity ends there. “Hi. Just thought I’d get a drink after work. Hi Hermione, Seamus, Sis.”
“Shove over Finnegan. Give the lady some room,” I say. Padma’s arrival is definitely cheering. They are soon deep into the flirting banter that comes so naturally from the pair of them and I’m left to look on and smile.
“Lav, there’s an attractive guy at the bar, looking at you,” Hermione whispers, loud enough for Parvati to hear.
“Oooh, where? No, don’t look Lav.”
“He’s probably looking at me to find out if I’m always that stupid and embarrassing,” I remark wryly, rolling my eyes at Hermione’s obvious attempt at cheering me up. I know very well that scruffy brown hair and short legs are not what a guy is looking for when he goes to a bar.
“He’s coming over!” Hermione hisses. I look up. He is very attractive. And also very Dean Thomas.
“Lavender Brown! I thought I recognised you. More beautiful than ever.”
Seamus looks over and grins. “Dean you wanker! You didn’t say you were back in London.”
“I wasn’t, until a short while ago. And my God, it’s Hermione Granger and Parvati and Padma - quite the Hogwarts reunion.”
“Quite,” Parvati says cooly. She’s never liked Dean much.
“Sit with us,” Hermione says, beaming. “What’ve you been up to?”
Dean smiles. “I’ve been in Canada, painting. Getting my muse back, as it were.”
“Bloody artistic types,” Seamus says, grinning.
“Don’t be an idiot, Finnegan,” Padma says.
“You know you want me, Patil.” So painfully drunk.
“Stop flirting with me, Seamus. So Dean, what’ve you been painting?”
It’s good to talk to Dean again. He’s still got that loveable quality around him and he’s so easy with everyone. Parvati doesn’t seem impressed with his charm though. She’s tapping her foot impatiently, waiting for the polite time to leave.
“Lav, don’t you have work tomorrow morning?” she says pointedly.
“Oh yeah.” Parvati’s got me out of a lot of awkward situations. It’s about time I returned the favour really.
“I’ll walk home with you. You’re in no state to apparate.”
I actually haven’t had very much to drink, but it does work out nicely.
“Well, it was lovely to see you Dean,” she trills. “Must go though. Au revoir.”
“Good bye, Parvati,” he says. “We should catch up sometime.”
“Sure,” she agrees. “You know my name if you want to owl me. Come on Lavender.”
“What was that all about?” I ask, as Parvati steers me down Diagon Alley, surprisingly quickly for someone in stilettos.
“I don’t like him.”
“Well, I don’t like people but I don’t avoid them quite so obviously.”
“We have a history. No! Not a romantic one. I would’ve told you if it was something like that,” she adds, seeing the look on my face.
We continue in silence until we’re outside the flat. “Night hun, glad I could be of service,” I say.
“I’ll see you soon.” She apparates away.
I apparate into my bedroom so that there’s no chance of me bumping into Zacharias Smith.