As Lavender Brown's body lay amongst the ruins of what was once her home, she watched a family grieve the loss of one of their own, wondering why fate had so cruelly dealt them such cards. From a young age, all she wanted was to love and be loved in...
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»»» WITH the memory of the many times she had visited Mary at work replaying in her mind, Lavender focused on the feeling it brought. The soft giggle that would escape her as her father would usher her into the building, the sheer excitement that would fill every crevice when she spotted her mother, the warmth of that first hug. Choosing one particular day to anchor herself to, she remembered how they spent the evening walking around the streets of London, eating ice cream.
Once landed, Lavender stepped forward and held out her arms to balance herself, before standing up straight and brushing the dust off her. The warmth of the sun was welcomed and she tilted her face up. Glancing at Fred, she couldn't help the smirk that played on her lips. Without too much trouble, she had figured out the time travel aspect to Apparating, and now that she thought about it, the whole concept seemed so simple. The memory and emotion behind it was key to propelling them to their destination.
She warmed under his gaze, which bore into her, one side of his mouth twitching at the inner monologue that was going on in his own head. Lavender didn't need George's psychic abilities to know what he was thinking, as she shook her head at him and rolled her eyes.
Fred responded by shaking his own head side to side and fluttering his eyelashes at her as he too rolled his eyes. Lavender resisted the urge to mimic his actions, instead opting to stick her tongue out at him, before turning towards their destination.
The British Library towered before them, glass glistening in the sunlight. She stood for a moment, regarding the sight. Though her stomach had started twisting into knots, the usual clamminess that often accompanied it was not evidenced. In its place, her heart grew heavier and her bottom lip turned downwards. A hand reached out for her own and she smiled to herself at the peace it, his touch, brought.
As constrained as her relationship with Mary was, and regardless of how difficult the task ahead of them would be, she allowed herself to appreciate the quiet moment before the inevitable storm.
Every time she saw Mary, it only brought about more pain. There was a time when she would always run to her with any problem or question. Together they would giggle and whisper between themselves, so much so that whenever her father would catch them both, he would just hold his hands at his hips and ask if he was allowed to know the secret. The answer would usually be no, but there wasn't much that they could do if he decided to tickle the information out of them. Whilst Mary was strong in the sense that she had quick reflexes and could dodge her husband easily, Lavender was quite the opposite.
For the longest time it had been just the three of them and Lavender loved it. She was always encouraged to be whoever she chose, and if on a certain day that meant she wanted to talk endlessly about the rights of pixies, both her parents would listen and engage with her. Her mother would invite her to work so that she would have the opportunity to speak to them and get the answers to any questions Mary did not know, or never thought of, herself. The next day she might wake up and decide she wanted to try on all the dresses her mother owned, her father would sit and watch her parade in each and every outfit, giving his feedback on them all.
