Challenge #016 Forgotten Valentines
Title: A Return to Something
Rating/Warnings: Rated PG, I guess, just because I like to rate things PG over G because it makes me feel badass.
Characters/Pairing: Lavender Brown/Ron Weasley
Summary: In response to Challenge #016 Forgotten Valentines. A sequel to For Me, It Isn't Over.
Word Count: 1818
Author's Notes: I MAKE UP MY OWN UNIVERSE, OK?
Registered purchases?: Both!
She had raced away from the Great Hall after the gleaming gold band had brushed against her cheeks. The chill of the solid metal had frozen more than her skin, and her tearful flight had not gone unnoticed.
Lavender Brown was gone, her dress a swift purple streak as ran out of the Great Hall of one of the only places she'd ever really called home.
And she'd left behind a startled man, his hand still raised as if he could feel her soft cheek underneath it, his eyes shuttered as he slouched in place with a grimace affixed to his face.
"Ron, what happened just now?", questioned his curious best friend.
Harry Potter had seen Lavender's frantic fleeing from Hogwarts, had watched as she stumbled and sprinted towards the edge of the school's property to Apparate away to who-knew-where. Few other people had noticed it, still wrapped up in their own efforts to appear successful and important at this reunion Dumbledore had sponsored.
Ron Weasley mumbled back, "I don't know, mate. I mean. I know. But, I don't -- I wish she hadn't left. I don't even know where to find her."
He sounded bewildered and defeated, his uncertainty clear in the furrow of his brows as he rested his weight on the gray stone walls.
"Well, what did you say to her?", the Boy Who Lived questioned.
"I touched her face, and it was like there was a fire in me, and I haven't felt that way in so long, if I ever have. Surely never with Hermione, or any of the other girls I've encountered over the years. And then I saw my ring, and I told her we couldn't, and then she burst into tears and ran out of here! Merlin, I don't know what's happening. I never thought I'd see her here. I thought you said she was on assignment in South America or something!"
Harry shrugged. "That was just speculation. Smith had mentioned something about it being a possibility. It seemed like an amazing opportunity, so I was surprised to see her here instead."
Known for his abilities to make friends in important places, Harry had befriended the new editor of The Daily Prophet, which allowed him to have an extensive knowledge of a lot of the wizarding world. Zacharias Smith, former Hufflepuff, hadn't grown out of his tendency to be a bit of an arse, but somehow he and Harry managed to get along (much to the chagrin of Ron, who still couldn't stand the berk). But even Ron had to admit that Smith's knowledge was useful -- especially since he was technically Lavender's boss, and sometimes fed him updates through the mouth of one Harry Potter.
He begged Harry to get information on Lavender from Smith, just this once, and swore to never ask for anything again. Harry had laughed it off, saying that among friends there would always be room for favours, before sauntering back to his platinum-haired mate with the promise that he'd owl Ron with anything he learned.
-------
It was nearly two months since that fateful December day at Hogwarts. Lavender stood in the living room of her small home, pyjama bottoms covering her bare feet as she alternated standing stock-still and pacing the bare wood floors. She was cold and shivering but she didn't care much, wondering exactly what it was that she would do next. She'd finished her lists and her home was finally clean, and she was left with an unease from not having anything left to do.
After her harried flight from the gleaming ring on Ron's finger, she'd almost Splinched herself in her emotionally-charged Apparition. She was lucky she hadn't.
She'd marched straight to Zacharias Smith's office, tendering her immediate resignation from the paper -- and he'd denied it. To her surprise, he'd adamantly praised her, saying that she was one of the best writers on staff and he'd be damned if she'd let him leave the room without some kind of explanation. He mentioned how circulation had been up since she'd been given her own travel column, and asked if she was playing some kind of game with him. What did she want? A raise? A bigger office? An assistant? He'd pounded his desk with frustration when she couldn't articulate why she'd stalked in there teary-eyed and uncertain, but they settled on somewhat of a compromise.
She would be taking two months of paid vacation, and using that time to build up a list of places she'd be willing to visit to include in her pieces on wizarding vacations abroad.
Lavender Brown was not one to look gift horses in the mouth.
She'd left his office much calmer than she'd arrived, and spent the first week living with her parents as she searched for a new place. Her father had been thrilled to have her home, but her mother had seen it as some kind of invasion of her space, and both she and Lavender had been relieved when she moved into a quiet cottage on the edge of Hogsmeade.
It felt odd to have moved to close to the place where she'd felt her heart break. Each morning, she rose to the view of the castle looming outside her window. She spelled heavy drapes to cover the view.
Slowly, she managed to re-orient herself with her new home, cleaning away the years of dirt and dust from years of misuse by the previous owners. She regularly trekked into Hogsmeade, making friends with Hannah Abbott, who now owned a sporty restaurant/pub named The Quaffle. Hannah would feed Lavender in exchange for stories of her exotic travels. Lavender refused to acknowledge that maybe she kept returning for more than just Hannah's kind friendship, knowing that Ron's presence was highly likely eventually as he was part of the same Quidditch-crowd that made The Quaffle so popular.
Maybe it was that knowledge that led her to shower and change, not bothering to tie back her long brown hair and allowing to flow loosely around her shoulders. She marched into town, head held high and shoulders back, straight to her regular stool at The Quaffle's bar.
It was only with dismay that she looked around and noticed the red, white, and pink decorations colouring the room.
"Bloody Valentine's Day!", she thought. "It would figure that I'd forget to not get out of bed today."
Hannah heard her muttering and just laughed as she flicked her wand to clean and dry a pile of heavy mugs.
"It's a good thing you appeared, Lav. Someone's been waiting for you for most of the day."
Lavender froze as Hannah gestured to a far corner of the room, winking at the brunette that had suddenly paled. She didn't want to turn around, unable to think of a single person she'd WANT to see, and utterly unable to forget the one person she'd assumed it was.
She was right. Ron Weasley was peering at her, trying to be inconspicuous over the rim of his glass and failing utterly. When he realized she was looking right at him, he at least had the courtesy to blush and his eyes fell to the table.
Unsure of where her sudden flare of anger came from, she hopped off her stool and stalked over to him, pausing just inches from him with her hands on her hips. As he was seated, she had the advantage of being a few inches above him. What she hadn't accounted for was that his eyes would be right level with her chest, and she blushed in return even as she frowned at him.
"Why are you here?" she demanded. "You've come to rub it in my face, haven't you? That you're happily wherever with whomever and I'm wasting away in a lonely house pining over you? Well, you're wrong! I'm fine! I'm a successful writer and I'm NOT lonely and I'm happy!"
And with that she burst into tears.
Ron's eyes were wide with the shock of her unexpected outburst, but he quickly registered her ragged sobs and ushered her outside the bar, giving Hannah and the other patrons an apologetic look and a slight wave with their departure. Lavender cried, even as he steered her down the cobbled roads to her own house, muttering some spell that unlocked and opened her front door before he led her inside.
She was confused at his attentions, and especially at the fact that he knew where she lived and that he'd been able to break through her own wards.
He seemed to understand her thoughts, and sheepishly mentioned that he'd asked Smith about her. And that his best friend was the famed Auror Harry Potter, after all, so it was only natural that he'd know some useful spells.
Even before she had a chance to compose herself, he'd sat the two of them on her deep leather couch, stiffly turning to her and taking a deep breath.
"I've been looking for you since you ran away at the reunion. I want to explain things, and I'm hoping that you'll give me some kind of chance, whether it's to garner your friendship or something more. I'll be satisfied with whatever you choose to give to me. No. That's a lie. I know what I want from you, but I'm not sure that it's feasible, especially since we hardly know each other anymore, and there's this huge gap of misunderstanding between us."
He stood and started pacing, unknowingly mirroring her own actions from earlier in the day. The red-head's agitation was clear.
"I don't know WHY I feel these things about you, and I'm not even sure WHAT I'm feeling. All I know is that I'm drawn to you enough to have spent the last two months befriending that git ZACHARIAS SMITH so he'd tell me where you were, and then I even spent some time with your parents, trying to convince THEM to tell me and trying to ensure that they believed that I wasn't going to kill you or some nonsense."
She was startled at that, especially since neither Smith or her parents had mentioned anything about a persistent Weasley badgering them for her whereabouts.
"Do you remember our last Valentines together?"
He continued at her nod.
"I don't want anything like that. We were both so self-conscious, and frantic, and it made us frustrated and cranky, and I got you some chocolates without knowing you were allergic to nuts and you spent the day alone in the Hospital Ward with Poppy, while Hermione berated me for being an abominable boyfriend.
I want to try again, though, and this time I've brought you sweets that I know you'll like (your father said you would), and I haven't bothered with flowers (he also mentioned that you hated things that died). So. Lavender Brown, would you allow me the honour of being your Valentine for this day, and your company for dinner tonight?"
She let out a long breath she hadn't known she'd been holding, and her cheeks flushed as she nodded a simple 'yes', unable to find anything else she could possibly say.
1818/30=60.6 61
+ 10 for bonuses
71 points for Gryffindor!
Could I get a pairing: ron/lavender tag??
Christa // Gryffindor
Rating/Warnings: Rated PG, I guess, just because I like to rate things PG over G because it makes me feel badass.
Characters/Pairing: Lavender Brown/Ron Weasley
Summary: In response to Challenge #016 Forgotten Valentines. A sequel to For Me, It Isn't Over.
Word Count: 1818
Author's Notes: I MAKE UP MY OWN UNIVERSE, OK?
Registered purchases?: Both!
She had raced away from the Great Hall after the gleaming gold band had brushed against her cheeks. The chill of the solid metal had frozen more than her skin, and her tearful flight had not gone unnoticed.
Lavender Brown was gone, her dress a swift purple streak as ran out of the Great Hall of one of the only places she'd ever really called home.
And she'd left behind a startled man, his hand still raised as if he could feel her soft cheek underneath it, his eyes shuttered as he slouched in place with a grimace affixed to his face.
"Ron, what happened just now?", questioned his curious best friend.
Harry Potter had seen Lavender's frantic fleeing from Hogwarts, had watched as she stumbled and sprinted towards the edge of the school's property to Apparate away to who-knew-where. Few other people had noticed it, still wrapped up in their own efforts to appear successful and important at this reunion Dumbledore had sponsored.
Ron Weasley mumbled back, "I don't know, mate. I mean. I know. But, I don't -- I wish she hadn't left. I don't even know where to find her."
He sounded bewildered and defeated, his uncertainty clear in the furrow of his brows as he rested his weight on the gray stone walls.
"Well, what did you say to her?", the Boy Who Lived questioned.
"I touched her face, and it was like there was a fire in me, and I haven't felt that way in so long, if I ever have. Surely never with Hermione, or any of the other girls I've encountered over the years. And then I saw my ring, and I told her we couldn't, and then she burst into tears and ran out of here! Merlin, I don't know what's happening. I never thought I'd see her here. I thought you said she was on assignment in South America or something!"
Harry shrugged. "That was just speculation. Smith had mentioned something about it being a possibility. It seemed like an amazing opportunity, so I was surprised to see her here instead."
Known for his abilities to make friends in important places, Harry had befriended the new editor of The Daily Prophet, which allowed him to have an extensive knowledge of a lot of the wizarding world. Zacharias Smith, former Hufflepuff, hadn't grown out of his tendency to be a bit of an arse, but somehow he and Harry managed to get along (much to the chagrin of Ron, who still couldn't stand the berk). But even Ron had to admit that Smith's knowledge was useful -- especially since he was technically Lavender's boss, and sometimes fed him updates through the mouth of one Harry Potter.
He begged Harry to get information on Lavender from Smith, just this once, and swore to never ask for anything again. Harry had laughed it off, saying that among friends there would always be room for favours, before sauntering back to his platinum-haired mate with the promise that he'd owl Ron with anything he learned.
-------
It was nearly two months since that fateful December day at Hogwarts. Lavender stood in the living room of her small home, pyjama bottoms covering her bare feet as she alternated standing stock-still and pacing the bare wood floors. She was cold and shivering but she didn't care much, wondering exactly what it was that she would do next. She'd finished her lists and her home was finally clean, and she was left with an unease from not having anything left to do.
After her harried flight from the gleaming ring on Ron's finger, she'd almost Splinched herself in her emotionally-charged Apparition. She was lucky she hadn't.
She'd marched straight to Zacharias Smith's office, tendering her immediate resignation from the paper -- and he'd denied it. To her surprise, he'd adamantly praised her, saying that she was one of the best writers on staff and he'd be damned if she'd let him leave the room without some kind of explanation. He mentioned how circulation had been up since she'd been given her own travel column, and asked if she was playing some kind of game with him. What did she want? A raise? A bigger office? An assistant? He'd pounded his desk with frustration when she couldn't articulate why she'd stalked in there teary-eyed and uncertain, but they settled on somewhat of a compromise.
She would be taking two months of paid vacation, and using that time to build up a list of places she'd be willing to visit to include in her pieces on wizarding vacations abroad.
Lavender Brown was not one to look gift horses in the mouth.
She'd left his office much calmer than she'd arrived, and spent the first week living with her parents as she searched for a new place. Her father had been thrilled to have her home, but her mother had seen it as some kind of invasion of her space, and both she and Lavender had been relieved when she moved into a quiet cottage on the edge of Hogsmeade.
It felt odd to have moved to close to the place where she'd felt her heart break. Each morning, she rose to the view of the castle looming outside her window. She spelled heavy drapes to cover the view.
Slowly, she managed to re-orient herself with her new home, cleaning away the years of dirt and dust from years of misuse by the previous owners. She regularly trekked into Hogsmeade, making friends with Hannah Abbott, who now owned a sporty restaurant/pub named The Quaffle. Hannah would feed Lavender in exchange for stories of her exotic travels. Lavender refused to acknowledge that maybe she kept returning for more than just Hannah's kind friendship, knowing that Ron's presence was highly likely eventually as he was part of the same Quidditch-crowd that made The Quaffle so popular.
Maybe it was that knowledge that led her to shower and change, not bothering to tie back her long brown hair and allowing to flow loosely around her shoulders. She marched into town, head held high and shoulders back, straight to her regular stool at The Quaffle's bar.
It was only with dismay that she looked around and noticed the red, white, and pink decorations colouring the room.
"Bloody Valentine's Day!", she thought. "It would figure that I'd forget to not get out of bed today."
Hannah heard her muttering and just laughed as she flicked her wand to clean and dry a pile of heavy mugs.
"It's a good thing you appeared, Lav. Someone's been waiting for you for most of the day."
Lavender froze as Hannah gestured to a far corner of the room, winking at the brunette that had suddenly paled. She didn't want to turn around, unable to think of a single person she'd WANT to see, and utterly unable to forget the one person she'd assumed it was.
She was right. Ron Weasley was peering at her, trying to be inconspicuous over the rim of his glass and failing utterly. When he realized she was looking right at him, he at least had the courtesy to blush and his eyes fell to the table.
Unsure of where her sudden flare of anger came from, she hopped off her stool and stalked over to him, pausing just inches from him with her hands on her hips. As he was seated, she had the advantage of being a few inches above him. What she hadn't accounted for was that his eyes would be right level with her chest, and she blushed in return even as she frowned at him.
"Why are you here?" she demanded. "You've come to rub it in my face, haven't you? That you're happily wherever with whomever and I'm wasting away in a lonely house pining over you? Well, you're wrong! I'm fine! I'm a successful writer and I'm NOT lonely and I'm happy!"
And with that she burst into tears.
Ron's eyes were wide with the shock of her unexpected outburst, but he quickly registered her ragged sobs and ushered her outside the bar, giving Hannah and the other patrons an apologetic look and a slight wave with their departure. Lavender cried, even as he steered her down the cobbled roads to her own house, muttering some spell that unlocked and opened her front door before he led her inside.
She was confused at his attentions, and especially at the fact that he knew where she lived and that he'd been able to break through her own wards.
He seemed to understand her thoughts, and sheepishly mentioned that he'd asked Smith about her. And that his best friend was the famed Auror Harry Potter, after all, so it was only natural that he'd know some useful spells.
Even before she had a chance to compose herself, he'd sat the two of them on her deep leather couch, stiffly turning to her and taking a deep breath.
"I've been looking for you since you ran away at the reunion. I want to explain things, and I'm hoping that you'll give me some kind of chance, whether it's to garner your friendship or something more. I'll be satisfied with whatever you choose to give to me. No. That's a lie. I know what I want from you, but I'm not sure that it's feasible, especially since we hardly know each other anymore, and there's this huge gap of misunderstanding between us."
He stood and started pacing, unknowingly mirroring her own actions from earlier in the day. The red-head's agitation was clear.
"I don't know WHY I feel these things about you, and I'm not even sure WHAT I'm feeling. All I know is that I'm drawn to you enough to have spent the last two months befriending that git ZACHARIAS SMITH so he'd tell me where you were, and then I even spent some time with your parents, trying to convince THEM to tell me and trying to ensure that they believed that I wasn't going to kill you or some nonsense."
She was startled at that, especially since neither Smith or her parents had mentioned anything about a persistent Weasley badgering them for her whereabouts.
"Do you remember our last Valentines together?"
He continued at her nod.
"I don't want anything like that. We were both so self-conscious, and frantic, and it made us frustrated and cranky, and I got you some chocolates without knowing you were allergic to nuts and you spent the day alone in the Hospital Ward with Poppy, while Hermione berated me for being an abominable boyfriend.
I want to try again, though, and this time I've brought you sweets that I know you'll like (your father said you would), and I haven't bothered with flowers (he also mentioned that you hated things that died). So. Lavender Brown, would you allow me the honour of being your Valentine for this day, and your company for dinner tonight?"
She let out a long breath she hadn't known she'd been holding, and her cheeks flushed as she nodded a simple 'yes', unable to find anything else she could possibly say.
1818/30=60.6 61
+ 10 for bonuses
71 points for Gryffindor!
Could I get a pairing: ron/lavender tag??
Christa // Gryffindor