I'm Holding Out for a Hero

As a little girl, Lavender Brown's favorite time of the day was when her father would sit down on the edge of her bed, put his arm around her, and read aloud from a fairy story. Sometimes it was the only time in the entire day that she spent with him, and, increasingly, as she got older, it happened a mere two or three times a week. Afterwards she would fall asleep, feeling safe and secure in his unconditional love. In her dreams, she always pictured herself as a lovely princess, waiting to be rescued by the handsome, noble and heroic prince. There was never any great urge to be the one who actually slew the dragon or defeated the villain. That was the hero's job. In her mind the hero always looked just a little bit like her father, because hadn't he been the one to rescue her mother? Hadn't he taken her away from that smelly little flat that her grandparents still lived in, giving her the pretty house they lived in, lovely clothes, and a shiny silver Mercedes?

Halfway through the summer after her eleventh birthday, she received the shock of her life. She found out that she was, in reality, living in a fairy story: that she was in fact, a witch. This took a little adjustment—after all, a witch was quite a different thing than a princess—but she was beginning to realize (based upon the things she'd heard on television and seen on the cover of The Sun) that being a princess wasn't all it was cracked up to be. She learned that the bizarre things she had found herself experiencing—the dreams that had an uncanny habit of coming true, the odd spurts of thrilling power that she felt when she lost her temper, the objects that appeared in her hand only moments after she had been thinking about them—were in fact, demonstrations of magical ability.

Her parents—to say the least—were disconcerted. Her father thought that the whole thing ought to be ignored, and that Lavender ought to instead attend the school that his mother and sisters had attended, in order to be 'finished.' But at this point Celia Brown did something very rare. She stood firm against her husband and insisted that this was an opportunity that Lavender must not miss. Lavender's mother was, in reality; slightly less surprised about Lavender's abilities than her husband had been. This certainly explained the odd behavior of Celia's Aunt Gladys, whom Celia's mother never wanted to talk about, didn't it?

That entire summer, as Lavender and her mother prepared for her first year at Hogwarts, the affectionate relationship between her parents diminished. Lavender's father, who had always doted on his little girl, now seemed to criticize her more and more frequently. He hadn't even accompanied them to King's Cross on September first, but had instead made an oddly formal goodbye at the front door of their house.

Lavender's first sight of Hogwarts was something she would remember for the rest of her life. A castle. She was going to live in a castle! Her childhood dreams had come true in the most thrilling way, and she felt ready to burst with excitement. Although there was a twinge of sadness that all of this had come at the expense of her easy relationship with her father, she was determined to make the most of her new life.

The first night in the dorms, she missed her parents terribly, but she was in far better shape than one of her dorm mates. Parvati Patil felt devastated at an unexpected and enforced separation from her twin, with whom she had spent nearly every second of her life up until that night. Lavender sat up with Parvati until very late, doing her best to cheer her up with speculation about the magic that they would learn, and finally by telling her one of the very same fairy stories her father had read to her.

Their other roommate, Hermione, sat with them on Parvati's bed, joining in the speculation about what they would learn, although she was doing much less speculating than asserting. And then, she had no interest in the fairy tale; she wondered why the princess had ever let herself get captured in the first place! Worse yet, she had no interest in the finer details of the story, such as the lovely flowing silver gown that the princess wore, or the vivid blue eyes and flaxen hair of the handsome prince. Eventually, Hermione wandered back to her own bed and picked up a very thick, very dull-looking book, and lay back to read it. The lines were drawn, and from then on it was the two of them against Hermione.

Exciting things happened during her first year at Hogwarts. Lavender found out that they had a celebrity, a bona-fide hero in their midst, although she never did understand the whole story. It seems that he had defeated a bad wizard simply by living, when he ought to have died. It was a little frightening to find out that there were evil wizards, but since there didn't seem to be any left these days, it was something Lavender tried not to think about. But at the end of the year, it turned out that one of those bad wizards had actually been one of their teachers; that he had tried to steal something valuable and powerful, and that once again, The Boy-Who-Lived had stopped terrible things from happening.

Lavender liked her fellow Gryffindors as a rule. The boys were typical boys, but no worse than the boys at her primary school. Harry Potter, in spite of his reportedly great deeds, was not very exciting to look at or to talk to, and he seemed to prefer the friendship of her swotty roommate and a goofy redhead to anyone else in their year. Lavender preferred her new friend Parvati, who was easy to talk to, never critical, and needy enough (in the loss of her sister) to let Lavender be the dominant friend.

Her second year was even more exciting, but unfortunately, more frightening, too. Several people had gotten hurt over the course of the year, including her know-it-all roommate, Hermione Granger. For several weeks, she and Parvati were alone in the dorm and it was not nearly as much fun as they would have thought it could be. Hermione might well have been annoying, but they had always known that they could turn to her for help with their homework, or for news of what was really happening around the castle (which the teachers wouldn't give them). Lavender also discovered over the course of that year that people like her (whose parents were not Wizards) were looked down upon and sometimes even hated and that the students that these terrible things had happened to were nearly all Muggle-born people like herself. She now had something in common with Hermione, and when she stole into the hospital to look into Hermione's terrifyingly still face, she silently apologized for every mean thing she had ever said or thought about her. Once again, however, Harry Potter came to the rescue, and stopped the attacks once and for all, rescuing a little girl in the process. Lavender had not been quite ready to believe the rumors that the attacks had been caused by a giant snake, and that Harry had actually slain it with a sword. It was a little too fantastic to be real, after all, and the idea of giant snakes slithering around the castle (unbeknownst by the teachers) was unacceptable.

She had also developed her first real crush that year—on a teacher, as a matter of fact—one with (coincidentally enough) beautiful flaxen hair and vivid blue eyes. Surprisingly, this had been something that she and Parvati had had in common with Hermione, and they had chatted with her about it occasionally. That teacher had eventually disappeared and she never did find out what happened to him. Her heart was a tiny bit broken when he didn't come back the next year.

His replacement was far less interesting to look at, but her third year was even more exciting than the second had been. She developed a crush on the handsome captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and much of the year was spent discussing him and discreetly following him around with Parvati, who thought he was certainly very nice to look at, but preferred Hufflepuff's captain, Diggory. Still, she was supportive, for it was far easier to follow around a housemate than a Hufflepuff.

Lavender also discovered a new favorite subject: Divination. She finally had a chance to explore the seemingly prophetic dreams that she had had since she was a little girl. Most of them had been about trivial things, and she wanted to find out if there was a way to expand that ability—to dream about really important things, so as to be able to help people.

She also continued to have the dream where the handsome hero rescued her, and she wanted desperately to believe it would come true some day. The man in her fantasies was looking less and less like her father, though, as her father grew more distant from her mother and Lavender. She barely had three letters from him over the course of the year, and her mother hinted that he was spending a lot of time away from home.

The third year also brought fear of a terrifying, murderous fugitive and those awful Dementors. The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, though not as dashing as Professor Lockhart, had taught them a lot of really interesting things, and Lavender began to develop the confidence that she might, some day, be able to thwart a villain without the aid of a handsome hero. She still secretly preferred the idea of the hero being the one to rescue her, though.

She and Parvati spent several months that year living with a very depressed Hermione, who had gotten herself in a extended fight with one of her best friends, losing much of the attention of the other best friend in the process. Lavender and Parvati tried to reach out to her, but Hermione seemed to have so much schoolwork that she was overburdened to the point of snapping. She never had time to help them with their homework any more, and she had nothing but rude things to say about their favorite teacher. Still, they did try, and one night, Hermione broke down in tears, lamenting to her dorm mates about how much she missed her two best friends. Lavender became certain on that night that Hermione actually fancied Harry and resented Ron for forcing Harry to choose between them. The Golden Trio appeared to make up by the end of the year, though, and Lavender thought it was only a matter of time before Harry and Hermione would be walking the halls holding hands (with Ron Weasley tagging along stupidly).

Her fourth year was very eventful due to the Triwizard Tournament and the Yule Ball. There was a great influx of fascinating new foreign students, and Oliver Wood suddenly seemed very dull, indeed. For weeks, Lavender and Parvati debated over which of the Beaubaxtons and Durmstrang wizards were the best-looking. As dutiful Gryffindors they, of course, rooted for Harry during the first task, even though Viktor Krum and Cedric Diggory were very exciting to watch (particularly Cedric, in Parvati's opinion). But Harry's flying was something very special to behold, and Lavender suddenly found herself wondering if he were not worth a second look. He certainly did fall into the hero category, however unimpressive he appeared at first glance. For weeks she kept her growing interest a secret from Parvati. She had always assumed that Harry was Hermione's property, but they didn't seem any closer to becoming a couple than last year.

The Yule Ball was announced sometime afterward and Lavender kept her ears open, waiting for news of Harry and Hermione's first official date. But the news never came, and Lavender began to raise her hopes that Harry might ask her after all. Four days had passed, however, and Harry had still apparently invited no one (even though Lavender had made herself extremely approachable—smiling and giggling every time he came near). She began to contemplate the horrifying possibility of going with no one at all. So, when Seamus pulled her aside one day after Care of Magical Creatures, she hesitated for only thirty seconds before answering his invitation in the affirmative. He didn't make her heart beat faster the way that Oliver Wood and Gilderoy Lockhart and even, occasionally Harry Potter had, but if she didn't go with him, she could very well end up stuck with Ron Weasley, or heaven forbid, Neville Longbottom.

Seamus was easy on the eyes, musically pleasant to listen to, and they had more than enough things in common to talk about. He had begun to sit near her at meals, and several times she had found him watching her while she did her homework in the common room. The next day, Parvati was sick with a cold and he offered to be her partner in Herbology. While they were squatting behind a Flutterby Bush in order to prune it, he suddenly leant over and kissed her on the mouth. Lavender was so surprised that she fell down on her bottom, but she had admitted to Parvati later that it had actually felt really nice. Over the next few days, she and Seamus took every opportunity they could get to steal kisses together, and her previous hopes of going to the Yule Ball with one of the Triwizard Champions, specifically Harry Potter, were forgotten. Hermione Granger could have him.

Parvati, of all people, was the person Harry finally asked, and Lavender's curiosity was piqued when she and Parvati learned that not only was Hermione not going with Harry, but she had turned down Ron and Neville too. They pestered her every night to find out the name of her partner, but she stubbornly refused to answer.

They had hoped that in the giddy excitement of dressing up for the ball together they would be able to convince Hermione to be candid, but she had chosen to get dressed elsewhere. So Lavender was as shocked as everyone else when she sat at her table and Hermione entered the room on the arm of Viktor Krum. Worse yet, she had managed to completely transform herself! She probably only did it to make Harry jealous, but she had managed to get the attention of every person in the school. It just wasn't fair. Not only was she the smartest girl in their year, but she had to go and show that she was capable of being one of the prettiest, too. She had captured not only Harry's attention, but also the admiration of an international celebrity: a Quidditch superstar and a Triwizard Champion

Parvati had later informed her that throughout the ball, neither Harry nor Ron would stop talking about Hermione. She also told her about a rumor that the three of them had gotten into a blazing row in the common room in regards to Hermione's choice in escorts. Neither of them had actually heard the row because Lavender had been up in the Astronomy Tower with Seamus for quite some time while it was happening. Parvati, meanwhile, had been in an alcove off the entrance hall, receiving her first kisses from a Beaubaxtons student named Etienne.

During the second task (which Hermione had managed to worm her way into being a participant of) it seemed as though Hermione and Viktor Krum were really going to become a couple. Rita Skeeter's subsequent newspaper article seemed to confirm it. Lavender and Parvati didn't notice much else, however, being equally enthralled with their new boyfriends. The last task, though; that was earth shattering, because Harry and Cedric Diggory disappeared for what seemed like hours, and then Harry came back clutching Cedric's dead body. Professor Dumbledore made a startling announcement during the Closing Feast that Cedric had been murdered by Lord Voldemort, of all people.

Lavender, who had never really bothered to understand the whole story about Lord Voldemort, forced Parvati to explain it to her, and together they looked up more information in the Hogwarts library before they went to bed. They could have simply asked Hermione, but she had been an emotional wreck when Harry disappeared, and had not really gotten over it yet. Things didn't appear to bode well for Viktor Krum, especially when it was made known that he had cursed Fleur Delacour in the maze.

The summer after sixth year had been particularly bad. Lavender returned home to find that her father had moved out of the house only the month before. He had a new girlfriend, it seemed, and was in the process of divorcing her mother. Lavender was devastated, but not nearly as much as her mother was. Celia was nervous and clingy, wondering how on earth she was going to be able to support herself and her daughter. Lavender tried to assure her that her father would take care of them, but didn't feel very optimistic, in reality. Her father seemed to think that Lavender was a freak of nature and blamed her mother for passing on that gene to their daughter.

The hero of her dreams now looked nothing like her father, of course. He actually resembled Seamus, a little.

The news from the wizarding world did nothing to ease the sense of impending doom that she was carrying around. Parvati had sent a couple of letters that referred to Prophet articles, and Lavender decided to subscribe for the first time in her life. She wanted to know what they had to say about Voldemort's return, but it seemed that the Ministry and the Prophet were of the opinion that Harry had made it all up in order to get attention. Parvati was inclined to believe Harry, but Seamus, who had also been writing to her, was beginning to lean in the opposite direction. Lavender really didn't want to believe that there was an evil wizard out there who came back from the dead and was out to kill all of the Muggle-borns and Muggles. She found herself hiding her fears from her mother for the first time in her life.

The Hogwarts Express was full of students eager to discuss their opinions of the events of the summer. Harry Potter looked wary, almost guilty. Nothing in his face gave her the courage to swim against the current—to take a public stand against the popular opinion. She tried to ignore her fears and doubts and just revel in the pleasure of being able to talk to, to touch and kiss Seamus again, and to share laughter and secrets with Parvati.

Sixth year (looked forward to as her first full one with a bona-fide boyfriend) was not as much fun as she'd imagined. There was an undercurrent of uneasiness throughout the school, felt not only by the students, but the teachers, also. Everybody was on edge, and arguments were common. There was, of course more homework than she could have dreamed possible, and she really began to worry about the OWL tests that her teachers reminded her of on a weekly basis. Hermione reminded them that if they didn't do well in them, that their future at school was altered considerably, and it would limit their choice of careers. Lavender had never seriously considered her career before. She had somehow never imagined working for a living. The handsome hero was supposed to rescue her and give her a beautiful house, and…well perhaps not a Mercedes, (she didn't plan on marrying a Muggle after all) but certainly beautiful clothes and anything else she wanted. She hadn't even considered what she would do until he showed up. But after the previous summer, she realized she couldn't count on her father to take care of her, and she didn't really want to be in a terrifyingly hopeless position like her mother. So, for the first time, she considered her future, and started really applying herself at school.

Hermione said another thing one night in the fall—something which bothered Lavender more than she cared to admit. Hermione said that the Ministry didn't want them learning to defend themselves, and that, because of it, not only were they going to be vulnerable to attack, but that the vast majority of them would fail their defense OWLS. The thing that made it really noteworthy was that Hermione (who seemed for all intents and purposes to believe the solution to everything came from a book) actually said that learning defense spells from books was rubbish.

Whether what Harry's story was true or not, the Ministry interfering with their education seemed a bit suspicious. So when Hermione told them one night that she and Ron and Harry were thinking about starting a Defense club, Lavender and Parvati, after only an hour's discussion between themselves, decided to go and see what it was all about. This caused a small argument with Seamus, but arguments with Seamus were becoming a regular occurrence, so she did not let that stop her.

Harry's words to the group at the Hog's Head were enough to remove all trace of doubt. As worrisome as the idea of Lord Voldemort's return was, to ignore it seemed foolish in the extreme. A fellow student had died – one whose only crime had been to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. The hero had not been able to stop it—the hero had only managed to bring back his body.

Lavender would learn to take care of herself. She could hold off the dragon until the hero came, if need be, but she would learn to hold off the dragon regardless.

Seamus resented her perceived betrayal, and let her know this in no uncertain terms. That his best friend had also attended the meeting seemed less important to him, though she suspected that he resented it bitterly. He seemed to feel that Lavender owed him allegiance, or possibly even obedience. It was the beginning of the end for them. The hero of her dreams lost all resemblance to Seamus. He was vague and misty once again.

Her Yuletide visit to her mother was something of a shock. Celia had changed drastically from the weeping, terrified, fragile woman of the summer holidays. She had found a job as a receptionist at a gallery, and she was full of purpose. The last thing she said to Lavender before embracing her at the platform in was "Lavender, you're lovely and gifted, and you can be anything you want to be Make me proud."

The defense meetings continued, and Lavender strove to perform well. The school became more and more tense as the winter edged toward spring, and even their Quidditch games were not as fun as they used to be—it was depressing watching the replacement team members struggle, and the team really missed Oliver Wood's Keeping skills.

In early March, the article in the Quibbler turned the school upside down. Suddenly, those that had stood by Harry were no longer thought of as naive. His story was heartbreaking, frightening, and rang completely true. Harry was indeed a hero, though certainly not invincible. Still, one had to admire him for never wavering from his beliefs.

Seamus approached her, contrite, about a day after the article was published, but though she accepted his apology graciously, she had no desire to open her heart to him again. He was certainly very charming, but a hero needed a bit more backbone, and unquestionable loyalty and integrity. Besides, she was a little too busy with her studies and the D.A. for a boyfriend. (Well, if she was going to be perfectly honest, she would have been a little less busy doing those things had she not found out that Harry Potter was not likely to have his head turned by anybody other than Cho Chang, and who could compete with her, really?)

Soon afterward, the D.A. ended abruptly and to everybody's great surprise and alarm, Dumbledore left the school, becoming a fugitive from justice. Lavender, in spite of Hermione's dire warnings, had never really taken their D.A.D.A. teacher's machinations as a real threat to their safety, but this effectively drove the point home with a sledgehammer. She felt frightened and vulnerable, and therefore not only increased her overall studies but also furtively practiced defense spells with Parvati in the same abandoned classroom in which she used to snog Seamus. It all paid off in the end when she knew even before she finished her Defense O.W.L. that she had passed the test with flying colours.

Shortly before the end of term (on the last day of testing, as a matter of fact) something dreadful happened to some of her house-mates. For some reason nobody had ever been able to explain to her, Harry and five members of the DA had chosen to leave school (running the gauntlet of Headmistress Umbridge and her Inquisitorial Squad) in order to fly away to London and the Ministry of Magic. While there, they had fought against a group of very evil wizards. Worst of all, before the evening ended, Lord Voldemort (the most evil Wizard of the age) had made an appearance, battling Harry for the second (or was it third?) time and finally being chased away by Professor Dumbledore. That much she had been able to glean from Luna Lovegood, who was the only member of the group to come to breakfast the next day.

The Wizarding world was, for all intents and purposes at war, and when Lavender read the newspaper over the summer, she did so with a growing fear and no little disgust at the hypocrisy of the Ministry. Lavender knew that—had they taken their heads out of the sand a year ago instead of trying to blame everthing on an innocent teenager and a heroic old man—things may not have gotten as bad as they did as quickly as they did. Lavender worried quite a bit, but did not mention her fears to her mother, who seemed to have retained her newfound confidence and independence. Celia had been promoted in the gallery, now becoming the person responsible for planning and arranging openings. (Well her mother had certainly always known how to throw a party, hadn't she?)

Lavender's father was finally out of the picture permanently, having settled a small amount on his daughter and an even smaller amount on his wife, and Lavender expected never to hear from him again. It was depressing, certainly, but she was learning to live with it. She distracted herself over the summer with a flirtation (and then a summer fling) with the most unsuitable person she could think of—a sullen American Muggle spending the summer with his grandparents, who lived two blocks away. The boy wore faded jeans with holes at the knees, a bulky leather jacket and Doc Martens. His auburn hair was stiff and spiky, and he wore an earring in one ear.

Her mother hated him, of course, but tried to be philosophical about it. Celia reminded herself that even the most forbidden and rebellious Muggle on would probably find himself becoming rather dull to her daughter (given enough time) simply for the fact that he would never be able to do any of the marvelous things that wizards can do. She kept an eye on Lavender, knowing that there was more bothering her than her abandonment by her worthless father, and if she needed to work out that anger by flirting with an inappropriate boy, Celia completely understood. After all, hadn't she had worked out her own anger and a great more with a perfectly lovely twenty-two year-old UPS man?

Lavender boarded the train on September first with a renewed positive attitude. Yes, the world was a scary place, and yes, bad things could happen any minute. But the school was unquestionably the safest place to be, and Lavender knew that this was her last year to behave like a teenager. After this, things would get very serious indeed. In the meantime there was no need to walk around weeping and wailing all day, and although the summer had contained a nice diversion, it certainly wouldn't hurt to keep an eye out for the hero of her dreams, wasn't it?

The train was abuzz with people eager to discuss Harry Potter's supposed destiny, and Lavender would have very much like to get hold of him to ask him a few questions. He was firmly ensconced in a compartment with Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom, of all people, and Lavender was not about to join that little party. Neville was all right—getting a little less embarrassing to be around—but you were still likely to find yourself covered in toad spawn if you spent very much time around him. And Luna Lovegood—although she had been helpful enough last May when Lavender wanted information—was just a little too odd to want to spend any serious amount of time with, wasn't she?

On the way back from the loo, she bumped into Ron Weasley. Literally, she bumped into him, almost falling onto the floor in the process. He grabbed her arms to steady her, and she had to crane her neck back to meet his eyes and apologize. He had probably grown four inches taller over the summer, and suddenly that lopsided grin of his seemed more charming than goofy. His eyes—full of humor and sincerity—drew her in, and she found herself stammering and blushing. But Ron didn't seem to notice, he just moved on to catch up with Hermione, who was giving him an impatient look.

She found herself remembering the moment the year before when he had been carried on the shoulders of his teammates, proudly thrusting the Quidditch Cup into the air. She remembered also the fact that he had done his best to follow Harry into nearly every dangerous venture that Harry undertook. She recalled watching a battered and bandaged Ron smiling and turning beet red when he had been awarded fifty points for the 'best played chess match that Hogwarts had ever seen.'

A naughty dream that night made Lavender consider Ron Weasley with even more interest. She kept her eyes on him for most of the autumn, doing her best to capture his attention occasionally (which was not always easy, considering how much Harry and Hermione monopolized his time). She did her best to be supportive when he successfully tried out for Keeper of the Gryffindor Quidditch team for the second time, and was rewarded with the feeling of his eyes on her for the rest of the day.

From that point on, she used all of the (considerable) weapons at her disposal to catch his eye. She didn't say a word in front of Hermione and did her best to convince Parvati that he was really worth all of the effort she was putting in snag him.

On the day of Gryffindor's first Quidditch game of the season, her efforts paid off in a big way. Well, it hadn't hurt that Ron played spectacularly—winning with such apparent ease (she hadn't had to manufacture enthusiasm, at any rate). Lavender ran up to him after the game, hoping to throw her arms around him and bask in his glory, but he hadn't seen her in the throng.

But the common room after game party was a different story. She approached him near the punch bowl with her warmest, most inviting smile and shoulders thrown back as far as they would go. He met her eyes (after lifting them from her chest) with an expression of unmistakable interest and that adorable crooked grin. She threw her arms around him, intending to give him a congratulatory hug and a whiff of her perfume. After pulling away only slightly, she looked into his eyes, feeling a flutter in her stomach as he looked down, eyeing her mouth with curiosity. After that, it was easy to move toward his own mouth, stopping just short—making her desires clear whilst still allowing him to think that it was all his idea.

Ron's first kisses did not make her weak-kneed (far from it). If anything they were a little clumsy and sloppy. But he certainly was as excited as a wiggly puppy, and just as adorable, and he learned quickly enough. Within thirty minutes spent in a relatively quiet corner of the room, Lavender was ready to find out how he would manage without an audience. So, at her whispered suggestion, they left the party.

Lavender was a bit disconcerted (on many levels) to run into Harry and Hermione in the first open room they came across. She was a little relieved that they had not interrupted anything really embarrassing, she did not relish the mental image of her uptight room-mate with her tongue down the throat of the 'boy who lived,' or the 'chosen one,' or whatever the hell he was called these days. She left as quickly as she could. But they must have given her poor Ronald a really hard time, because he came out of the room with his arms cut and bleeding and in a foul temper.

Which gave Lavender the perfect opportunity to demonstrate her nurturing skills if not her snogging skills, because he was too angry to concentrate on kissing properly. He made up for it over the subsequent weeks. What he lacked in technique he more than made up for in enthusiasm. Luckily for him, Lavender was a very patient teacher.

She had actually thought that (by taking away the man in the middle) Harry and Hermione's relationship would finally take off, but so far, there was no sign of it. In fact, Hermione actually was more irritable than before. Maybe she was frustrated at the lack of progress. That had to be it, although when Lavender mentioned this to Parvati, Parvati gave her a long, hard look, which confused Lavender somewhat and made her irritable, too, at least until she saw her lovely boyfriend and he obligingly kissed her into a better mood.

She was a little annoyed that being Ron Weasley's girlfriend (and therefore an honorary member of the so-called golden trio) hadn't gotten her an invitation to Slughorn's Christmas party, which promised to be the social event of the year. When she asked Ron why he had been invited, he gave her a funny look and said he had been invited—by Hermione While she felt a little smug thrill that he had turned down Hermione for her sake, she couldn't help asking, "But why aren't she and Harry going together?" Ron, for some reason, didn't answer, instead turning red and looking away. He was quiet for most of that evening, though still interested enough in snogging, thank goodness. At any rate, she didn't love him for his brain or conversation skills, did she?

Lavender pored over the catalogues throughout November, doing her best to come up with the perfect Christmas present for Ron—one that would tell him how much he meant to her. When she finally found it, she let out a whoop of joy, showing the picture proudly to Parvati, who raised her eyebrows, giving Lavender a funny look, but was forced to admit that 'it was really something, wasn't it?'

Lavender handed Ron the wrapped gift while in the common room on the night of Slughorn's party. She'd hoped he would open it in front of her (she really wanted to see his joyful, grateful face) but he wasn't in the best of moods a he'd watched Hermione and Harry walk off to meet their respective dates. In fact, he went to be early, leaving Lavender to spend her last night before Christmas reading tea leaves with Parvati.

She missed Ron terribly over the hols, and when she returned to Hogwarts, Ron was somehow more distant than before. He did admit that it was a very thoughtful present, but he wouldn't wear the necklace, no matter how much Lavender pouted. He said he was afraid that he would be docked points for wearing something that wasn't part of the uniform, but Lavender secretly thought it was a bit of a dodgy explanation.

January was busy enough, and she didn't get to spend as much time with Ron as she'd have liked. She began to pin her hopes on his birthday in March, certain that she would be able to pamper and spoil him into a better mood.

On his birthday, however, he never even allowed her to give him a birthday kiss—just pushed past her, saying that he needed to talk to Romilda Vane, of all people. In fact, he was a bit rude about it, and Lavender found her eyes welling with tears, wondering what had gone wrong.

As the day went on, she grew more and more angry—and, she hated to admit it—jealous. He couldn't have spent the day with Romilda, could he? When she saw Romilda at dinner, however, Ron was nowhere to be found, nor were Hermione and Harry. In fact, no one knew where they were at all. She thought to ask Ginny, but then Ginny didn't come to dinner. Could it have something to do with Quidditch? No, for Dean Thomas was there, as were Peakes, Coote and Demelza Robins. All evening, Lavender and Parvati waited anxiously in the common room, scarcely daring to take their eyes off the portrait hole. Finally, Lavender, whose eyes were strained from crying, decided to go up to bed.

Eventually, Hermione came into the room, took one look at Lavender sobbing on the bed, and sighed. She proceeded to inform her room-mates that Ron had been poisoned—though he was expected to survive. In fact, Harry had saved him, and Lavender made a promise to herself that she would give Harry a kiss of thanks the next time she saw him. It only took a moment for the panic and horror to pass through Lavender—once she knew he'd be all right, it occurred to her that she (as his loving girlfriend) ought not to have been kept in the dark. Someone should have told her. And why on earth was Hermione Granger in the know? She and Ron didn't even like each other all that much, did they?

Once the news spread about Ron's accident, Lavender rather expected to be the center of attention around the breakfast table (she was the worried girlfriend, after all) but what attention there was to be had (and there wasn't much of it, oddly) was centered on Harry and Hermione. And Ginny, of course—he was her brother, after all. She rushed to see him the moment that she got a chance, weeping prettily at his bedside, kissing his face, holding his large hand, (which was thankfully quite warm) but Ron didn't wake up at all, and she was finally forced to get back to classes. He didn't wake up the next time she saw him, or the next. She finally approached Harry, hoping to get more information about her boyfriend's condition, and while talking to him, took advantage of the opportunity to find out what Ron said about her when he and Harry were alone.

She would have asked Hermione (who she caught leaving the area near the hospital ward) but she didn't think it fair that Hermione was getting her share of everyone's concern when she'd been such a bad friend to Ron so recently.

After the disastrous Quidditch match where Harry was injured, Lavender finally managed to catch Ron sitting upright in bed, though she was annoyed to find Hermione and Ginny sitting with him, all three of them looking down at Harry's still form and repeating the story for Ron's edification. Lavender gave Hermione a haughty look, and rushed to Ron's side, hugging him and kissing every bit of his face she could reach. Hermione and Ginny had the good manners to excuse themselves, and Lavender finally got her chance to pour her heart out to her boyfriend, letting him know how worried she'd been and how desperately she missed him.

Ron was oddly quiet, and seemed disinclined to take advantage of the deserted hospital wing for a bit of a snog, saying that he was tired and that he didn't want to get told off by Madame Pomfrey. Lavender began to suspect that Hermione was saying bad things about her—something that grew into more of a certainty when Hermione gave her a sympathetic smile in the dorm room. Since when had Hermione ever been nice to her, anyway? Lavender resolved to keep her eyes open.

The day that Ron was released from the hospital, Lavender could have spit nails. It should have been her walking triumphantly at Ron's side towards the Great Hall, not Hermione. And Ron certainly looked guilty, didn't he? That Granger. Give a bloke a bit of notoriety, and she wanted to be there, basking in it! Why couldn't everyone else see what a horrid person she was?

Sure enough, Ron pulled further and further away from Lavender, occasionally even saying things that sounded (at least to Lavender's overactive imagination) like he wanted to start seeing less of her. She could practically hear Granger's influence in Ron's words, and she was not about to take the bait. She used guilt and tears, reminding Ron how much she loved him, how she had shown him in so many ways—particularly physically. She tried to use physical affection too, but he seemed strangely resistant to her kisses and caresses.

She'd rushed to his defense, just over a week later, when Snape insulted his Apparition skills, but even that hadn't made him turn back to her with that wonderful crooked grin. And Granger—she had just slinked away guiltily. Ought to have been sorted Slytherin, that one!

After that, it only got worse. Lavender watched in dismay as Hermione and Ron went off to Hogsmeade for their Apparition lessons—without Harry—who, like her, wasn't old enough. And after that, Ron seemed to disappear whenever Lavender caught sight of him. And Hermione had the gall to be cheerful and friendly to Lavender and Parvati in the dorm, when she'd been so quiet and withdrawn all those previous months—the smug, swotty little slag!

It all came to a head the night after the Apparition test. Parvati had to hear that Ron had failed second hand (or was it third?) She looked all over for him—to console him, of course—but had no luck. That is—until she saw him coming down the boy's staircase with Hermione. Obviously, Hermione had beat her to the punch, hadn't she? And they'd probably been snogging behind Lavender's back for weeks! Lavender wanted to commit murder, especially to Hermione, but Ron would do.

She ranted and stormed and forbid him ever to see Hermione again, but Ron refused to give her that promise, saying, "She's my best friend, Lavender. You can't expect me to…"

Lavender finally decided to pull out her last weapon. She threatened to break up with him, and to her horror, he merely said, "Okay," and left her there, mouth agape, probably to go and find Hermione, maybe even to snog her in an abandoned classroom.

Lavender was utterly devastated. Fortunately, Parvati was able to hurry her into the dorm, soothing her, letting her vent all her venom, generally being the perfect best friend. Lavender didn't know how she would face Hermione when she finally did come up to bed, but finally agreed with Parvati that for the sake of her pride, she had to ignore her pointedly and haughtily. Lavender still was the most popular girl in their year, after all. It was only a matter of time before Ron saw how dull, how rigid, how plain Hermione was and would come back to Lavender with open arms, apologizing profusely.

It was painful to see them the next day, and so obvious that they couldn't keep their hands off each other. How guilty Ron had looked, and how smug Hermione had, too. Perhaps they didn't snog in the common room, but they might as well have—lust was written all over their faces. At first, Lavender was angry, but eventually, the hurt took over, and she might never have gotten through the pan had it not been for Parvati's friendship and support.

Unfortunately, an event happened in the late spring that ensured that even that comfort was taken away form Lavender. From what Lavender had been able to gather, somehow, Draco Malfoy (the arrogant twit) had managed to smuggle a group of Death Eaters into the castle. Somehow, over the course of the evening, this had resulted in their latest Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, their former Potions teacher, (who had apparently been a bad wizard all along) murdering Professor Dumbledore. Lavender was in shock—she really wanted to speak to Hermione again—if only in order to get all the details—because, as usual, Hermione had been in the thick of it, but she couldn't get past her resentment to ask. And the very next day, Parvati's parents appeared, forcing her to come home with them. Lavender was devastated. She was frightened and sad and had not a single person to talk to about it.

The day of Dumbledore's funeral was one of the worst in her life. It didn't seem possible that someone had ruthlessly murdered such a kind, such a brave old man. He had been a hero in his life, and hadn't deserved to come to that sort of ignominious end. Lavender suddenly felt very vulnerable. War seemed inevitable, and she and her mum were very much alone. What hero would come to protect them?

Bollocks to that, Lavender though. I will protect myself—and Mum, too for that matter.

After the short funeral ceremony, as people were dispersing, Lavender caught sight of Ron, and resisted the urge to run into his arms for comfort. She was glad she had, for shortly afterwards, Hermione sodding Granger did just that, and she had to watch her boyfriend—ex-boyfriend, give her rival all the tenderness he'd never given Lavender. As she grew more and more jealous and angry, she heard a quiet cough to her left.

"Lavender?" asked a gentle voice.

"Hmm?" She turned in confusion, and found herself tapping down a surge of irritation when she recognized Neville Longbottom. "Oh. Hi, Neville."

"Is everything all right?" he asked.

He really is thick, isn't he? she thought. "That's an odd question to ask at a funeral, isn't it?"

Neville seemed undeterred. "I know that…I just thought … I mean I saw … Well, you were crying."

"Everybody was crying," she snapped.

"Yes, I know, but … After, just now, you seemed ..." She softened as she saw his eyebrows knit together in concern.

"What do you want, Neville? I have to go and pack." This was the very last thing she needed, and she had lost all patience. She started to turn away, but Neville stopped her with a touch on her arm.

"I saw them, too, Lavender. I know it must have been hard to watch. I thought … well Parvati is gone, and I thought you might like to talk about it."

"With you?" She asked. Odd that Neville, who was usually so oblivious, had worked out her problem so easily. But, to confide in him? Impossible!

"Yes." He looked at her steadily, and for some reason, it began to make perfect sense to burden Neville with her troubles. He was the only person she knew who had the time to really listen. Not only that—he was the only person she knew that really did listen, with no chance that he'd glance away, trying to look at someone more interesting. Like Ron, she thought, and suddenly, she found herself bursting into tears.

Somehow, the pressure of Neville's hand on her back was comforting, and she allowed herself to be guided gently to a low stone bench, where Neville sat beside her and patted her back. Like I was a lost puppy, or that idiot frog of his, she thought.

"I knew it, I just knew she was trying to steal him from me!" she spat out.

"Hermione?" he said, and she wanted to smack him for his stupidity.

"It isn't enough that she had Krum and Harry, but now she has to have my Ron, too. She's horrible, really! She thinks she's so much better than the rest of us."

"Lavender, " Neville replied, and she knew by the tone of his voice that he was going to say something in Hermione's defense, so she stopped him.

"Oh, I know you like her too, so don't try to defend her, Neville."

"Lavender …" he replied, and something about the way he was looking at her made her feel that she was behaving a bit childishly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Neville, I know I sound like a horrible, jealous hag, but, I just cared so much about him, and I don't see why she had to …"

"Lavender, stop it!" he said, and Lavender couldn't believe the change in his expression. He looked…He looked nothing like the bumbling, apologetic Neville she'd know for years. This Neville made her think that perhaps those stories about Longbottom fighting Death Eaters—twice—might just well be true.

"Neville!" she exclaimed.

"You really don't see it, do you?"

"See what?" she asked.

"He was never yours, not really," Neville said, and somehow she knew exactly what he was talking about, even though she tried to feign ignorance.

"Wha…What?"

"Look at them, Lavender, really look at them, for goodness' sake!"

Lavender reluctantly followed Neville's pointing finger, and was dismayed to find Ron and Hermione across the expanse of lawn. Ron looked as though he was gearing up for a fight, and Hermione was clearly attempting to dissuade him. Even though he gave her a petulant look, he listened to her, and when Hermione smiled, Ron seemed to light up from within. Ron never looked at me like that, she thought.

"They've been madly in love with each other since second year," Neville said quietly, as though to soften the blow.

A horrible thought occurred to Lavender. He just has to be guessing, transferring his own feelings to Ron—unless…"What? How do you know? Had he told you that, Neville?"

Neville actually laughed. "Only in his sleep. But that's beside the point, isn't it? It's been written on their faces all along."

"But they fight, all the time … and what about Harry … and Krum?"

"Harry has never been an issue, and Krum, well he just got it all out in the open, didn't he?

"Oh, Neville … no, it can't be!" Lavender felt her heart sinking with every word Neville said. She had been jealous of Hermione—oh, how jealous she had been, but she now realized that she'd been blind, too. All that bickering Ron and Hermione had done—they didn't hate each other—they couldn't take their eyes off each other, could they? They had been circling around each other for years. No wonder Hermione had been so angry and Ron—

"Well then, why on earth did he ever go out with me?"

Neville simply looked at her, covering his hand with his own.

"Because I was there," she whispered, was horrified to find her eyes prickling with tears. "Bastard!"

"Maybe. I mean, I'm sure he thought you were … well, you are … well, who wouldn't? But, anyway, at least you're not so angry at Hermione anymore."

There was the Neville she was used to: kind and bumbling, and sometimes impossible to suss out what he was saying. The last part was easy enough to understand, though, and she emphatically disagreed. "Says who?"

"Well ... she did have to watch you get off with the love of her life for several months. It isn't one of the nicest feelings in the world, I promise you. Maybe you could be a little nicer to her."

"I wouldn't hold my breath," Lavender muttered. Neville simply looked at her, his eyes expressing kindness and sympathy, and perhaps a bit of exasperation. "Oh, stop looking at me that way, Longbottom! I'm sure by the end of summer I will have gotten over it enough to be civil to her. Anyway, I won't have much choice, will I? We will be all alone in the dorm. She'd just better not be too smug about it."

She really did feel just the smallest bit sorry for Hermione—impossible as it had seemed just moments ago—but she wasn't about to admit it to Neville. Just then, he managed to shock the stuffing out of her by adding, "I'm sure you'll have a new boyfriend by then anyway."

"Like who?" she asked, wondering what other facts Neville had managed to glean from their classmates. "Half the boys in our year can't take their eyes off of you, Lavender. You'll have your pick." He patted her hand again.

Lavender smiled. He really was quite nice to talk to when you got to know him. Too bad most girls couldn't see past his clumsiness. She looked at him sympathetically. "This has got to be hard on you, too, Neville."

This seemed to embarrass Neville a bit, and she suspected she had hit pretty close to the mark when he turned away and mumbled, "What do you mean?'

Well, he had been blunt to her, hadn't he? The least she could do was return the favor. "Well, this sort of dashes your hopes, doesn't it?"

"What does?" Neville managed to meet her eyes again, and if Lavender hadn't known better, she would have thought that he was genuinely puzzled.

"Those two." She pointed to Ron and Hermione, who had been joined by Harry and were in the middle of a fervent discussion.

"I don't understand."

If he's going to play this innocent, I'm going to have to be truly blunt, Lavender thought. "Well this pretty much blows your chances with Granger, doesn't it?"

"Haven't you been listening? Nobody but Ron ever really had a chance with her."

Lavender sighed. "But that doesn't mean you didn't hope, or wish that things were different."

"Er ... Yeah well, I'd better go get my trunk …" Apparently, Lavender had been a bit too blunt, because Neville got up to walk away, looking much smaller than he had a few moments before.

She called him back, hoping to soften the blow. "Neville …"

He turned around. "Yes, Lavender?"

"Thank you for being so kind to me. You're really a very nice bloke. I'm sure you'll find a girl who deserves you more than Hermione Granger does."

"Oh...well, thanks, then…" He started to walk away again, but turned back. "Err … Lavender? For the record, I've never wanted Hermione. I like her and all, but she's too … bossy for me. I've had enough of that with my Gran, haven't I? The girl of my dreams is much … warmer than her."

She raised an eyebrow. He had piqued her curiosity. "Ginny Weasley, then."

"Not Ginny, Lavender." Neville had that look in his eyes she'd noticed when he was concentrating on a getting a particular charm just right, or, better yet, when he'd been trying so hard to get defensive spells perfected in the D.A. He continued, looking directly into her eyes. "And, um, to be honest … I was hoping, when I noticed those two hugging on the lawn, twenty minutes ago…Well, it occurred to me that it just might have improved my … admittedly slim chances."

Lavender sucked in her breath. He can't mean…me? "Neville!" she exhaled. "I…" What are you going to say, Lavender? I don't think of you that way? You're a nice bloke, but you're not my type? Because suddenly the world has turned upside down. The headmaster is dead, you've lost your best friend, you're in the middle of a war, and there's no one to protect you and your Mum but yourself. And Neville Longbottom has just told you…what? That he loves you? And he wasn't even looking at your tits when he said it, was he?

"Think about it over the summer, will you, Lavender?" he said.

She was incapable of speech—she merely nodded, but it seemed to be enough. Neville grinned, and it completely transformed his face. She wondered when the last time it was that she'd really looked at him—or at least looked at him without the pre-conceived notions of the bumbling, awkward boy she'd met in her first year. He turned and limped away, and she noticed that he didn't hunch his shoulders the way that he used to—that he seemed to have come to terms with the height that he'd gained over the years. He might not be as tall as Ron or as handsome as Seamus, nor did he have the easy confidence of Oliver Wood.

And his feelings for her…she couldn't dismiss them out of hand the way she might have just two years ago. Neville wasn't the sort of boy to see her only for her pretty face or alluring figure. If Neville considered her—what was the word he used? The girl of his dreams? Warm? Unreachable, he'd indicated, hadn't he? And she was, wasn't she? Because Neville—Neville was not fairytale hero material, was he?

She went up to her empty dorm, taking a look at Hermione's bed, with the sheets stripped away and folded neatly on the foot of the mattress. She knew in her heart that Hermione had spotted Ron as a hero back in first year. How could Lavender hold Hermione's astuteness against her?

And when she thought about it, she also knew that Hermione had spotted Neville's merit years before, too. Sighing heavily, Lavender finished her packing. With a flick of her wand, he levitated her trunk before her, sending it down the stairs before taking one last look around the dorm which had been her true home for years. Would she ever see it again? Would the school ever reopen? Would she be capable of protecting herself and her mother from all those who wanted to hurt them? Would Hermione—best friend to Voldemort's greatest enemy—survive the coming war? Would Ron, who would be considered a blood traitor?

On the way out, she took another look at the common room, the site of many of her happiest moments. There—the chair where she and Ron had their first kiss. There—the spot in front of the fire where Seamus slipped his hand under her blouse, pinning her to the rug with his body. There—the spot where she and Parvati liked to curl up on the sofa together, studying and gossiping. There—the spot where Harry Potter held up the golden egg he'd snatched from the dragon's nest. There—where Ron Weasley exuberantly threw the Quidditch cup into the air. There—where Neville Longbottom's meager ten points earned him a ride on the Weasley twins' shoulders, back in first year.

She left the trunk in the common room, trusting the house elves to load it onto the train. Would it all go smoothly, now that Dumbledore was gone? Would the house-elves abandon their posts the way the Dementors had? Would the train ride home be safe, or would there be a Death Eater attack? Could Harry Potter save them all? Could Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger help him?

Suddenly, Lavender knew what to do. She would be there to back them up. She could do it—she was a witch, and a Gryffindor at that. The next time Harry and Ron and Hermione faced danger, they wouldn't have to rely on just Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom to face danger at their sides. No, Lavender would be there. Lavender would defend her school. Lavender would defend her mother. Lavender would defend the side of light to her dying breath.

Lavender didn't need to search for a hero any longer. She would be her own hero.

And Neville?

She practically sprinted to the train, and once there, paced the corridors, looking for him. She didn't know what to say to him, but she had to say something.

When she finally id find him, he was firmly ensconced in a compartment with Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley. Somehow, she didn't have the nerve to interrupt them. She regretted it, too, as she shared a compartment with people she vaguely knew but realized rather quickly were completely oblivious to the danger that was ahead for everyone in the wizarding world. All they could talk about was who had broken up with who over the course of the year, and where they were going on holiday over the summer. When Lavender felt the train begin to slow down, she panicked and raced out of the compartment, determined to have a word with Neville before she had missed the chance. Who knew? That Lovegood girl could be doing her best to dissuade Neville from pursuing Lavender. It was possible, wasn't it? She never did reach Neville on the train. She did, however, find him in the station, and conveniently enough, was able to deliver his wayward toad to him. The look on his face as she approached him was priceless. She carefully handed him Trevor, and his hand shook a bit as she delivered her slimy burden. Then, she forced him to stop apologizing for Trevor by saying, "Neville—look at me." He did, clutching his toad protectively and watching her with a nervous, hopeful smile.

Lavender reached for his chin, kissing him firmly on the lips, pulling him close by sliding both arms around his neck. She even was able, with an element of surprise, to get him to open his mouth for her, giving him just the barest hint of tongue.

"Write to me this summer, Neville," she ordered, and tucked a bit of parchment in his pocket, earning a 'harumph' from his grandmother (who'd been standing nearby, her mouth agape.)

Neville grinned, looking for all the world like Father Christmas had just dumped his entire gift bag on Neville's hearth. Neville pulled her back again with surprising strength, kissing her in return—not an expert, certainly, but kissing her like he'd been thinking long and hard about precisely how he would like to do it. Lavender gave him a warm, promising smile as he walked away.

She would see—with a bit of time and patience, she might well find herself in love with the poor sod. After all, a hero (once discovered) was worth holding onto, wasn't he?