I did nothing to deserve this life, not really. Oh, sometimes I was naughty at school, but who hasn't been? Sometimes I didn't do my homework and said that Peeves had stolen it, but that's about it. The sum total of my badness.
I fought on the right side, on the winning side. And my reward for that? Exile, misery and pain that's what. And after all that, after undeserved years of being separated from the one I love I sit here alone waiting for arrest. Arrest, trial and a lifetime of lonely restrictions.
I didn't choose to be bitten by a werewolf, but I did choose to keep myself from others so I didn't pass on my affliction. Not out of nobility but because I couldn't live with myself if someone else had to go through what I've been through. So I hid in Siberia and stayed alone. Hunting through moonlit forests when the transformation came. Hiding in my cabin, through the snows of winter and the innumerable mosquitos of summer.
Now I'm home and waiting for arrest and trial and surveillance and licensing. Do you know what they call a wolf that's been moulded and trained to live with humans? They call that a dog. A fucking dog!
My name is Lavender Brown, I'm about to be made into society's bitch, and this is my story.
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I was born to a magical family and had a standard magical upbringing. I knew I'd be going to Hogwarts very early in my life, but I was still nervous on that first train journey. All first years are I think. Everyone showing it in different ways. I remember being told that Harry Potter was on the train and sneaking a glimpse of him through the apartment window. I remember Hermione, all bright and brittle with nerves as she sat there reading. I remember Parvati and Padma introducing themselves with shy smiles. They were my first friends I suppose, Parvati was certainly my best friend for years. Until I was bitten. God I miss being able to talk to her. I could tell her anything, and did. Apart from one thing. I never told her about......never told anyone.
That's the reason I'm back you see. That's the reason I'm telling you this, hoping you'll understand. Hoping you'll understand and be able to find it in yourself not to hate and despise me for being a werewolf.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. We were at the beginning of my first year at Hogwarts....
I was so proud to be sorted into Gryffindor, Mum and Dad both had been. I hadn't thought I'd be brave enough. Parvati was a Gryffindor as well, and I remember how we smiled at each other as we saw the Gryffindor common room for the first time. We had adjacent four posters in the dormitory and that first night we helped each other through. I'm an only child and understood being solitary, but for the first time Parvati was separated from her sister. We both felt we were dangling on a thin thread over an unknown precipice and our companionship gave us comfort and support and we made it through.
Looking back on that night I realise how terrified Hermione must have been. Muggle born and suddenly surrounded by magic. Magic not to be hidden and explained away, but to be understood and embraced as part of her true self. She was polite when we spoke to her, but distant and reserved. I thought then how brave she was, all alone in this strange new world. She was, to me, the epitome of what it meant to be a Gryffindor. Brave. Mastering her fear and heading forward, determined to succeed.
I know she got on peoples' nerves that first few weeks. Always jabbing her hand up to answer questions, desperate to be appreciated. But I had friends. For the first time in my life I had friends, and I always loved Hogwarts for that. Friendship got me through that first term. I was distinctly average in all my classes but having others to share my hopes and disappointments with, well that made life worth living.
By Christmas that first year I was completely at home. Hermione had settled down and mostly hung around with Harry and Ron Weasley. Parvati and I hung around with other first year witches. We were that age you see. The age where boys are stupid and girls prefer the company of girls. Even Hermione, despite being mates with Harry and Ron, was relaxed and happy in our company. She giggled with us after lights out, she was our friend.
They're grown up now, Hermione and Parvati. I wonder what they look like. Hermione's probably with Ron. I wonder if they're married, I wonder if they have kids. The last time I saw Parvati before that final battle she looked beautiful. Eyes flashing, poised to fight she squeezed my hand for reassurance as the death eaters advanced. I know they both made it through. Mum told me, before I.....you know, left.
But I'm getting ahead of myself again.
Second year was fine. Things hadn't changed for me. We still thought boys, with all their showing off, were stupid. We were all still friends. I remember Parvati hugging me when I cried about Hermione's being petrified by the basilisk. I was just so scared; someone I knew had nearly died. That was the first time I really felt like a Gryffindor, I faced down my fear and carried on. I had required Parvati's support, but that, and taking inspiration from Hermione, had finally brought out the lioness in me.
Third year was almost all good. Oh, there was a worry about Sirius Black being on the loose, but I had friends and I loved divination. That was about the only thing that ever came between me and Hermione that year. She thought old Trelawney a terrible old fraud but not me, I believed every word. Hermione was right of course. All those tea leaves and crystal balls and yarrow stalks never gave me the slightest clue that my future held the agonising transformation into a werewolf. They never told me I'd spend a significant portion of my life covered in fur and craving the taste of fresh, warm blood.
There was that time when Binky died. He wasn't a magical rabbit, but before Hogwarts he'd been my only friend and I was so sad. Parvati was a comfort as always, but it was Hermione, standing there arguing with old Trelawney that gave me the resolve to carry on. She stood so straight and determined as she debunked divination. She inspired me to stand up for things that were right. A true Gryffindor.
IT happened in fourth year. 'IT' in capital letters. One thing, seemingly so small that can change an entire life. I fell in love.
It happened like this. The night of the Yule Ball I was in the dorm with the others as we got ready. Parvati looked really nice in her sari, I looked okay I suppose. But it was Hermione, in her ball gown with her hair all done. I stood and stared at her, I'd never seen anyone look so lovely and I blurted out some lame compliment. She looked at me with such fondness and gratitude, smiled at me with those big beautiful brown eyes that I just lost my heart. Simple as that. Before, not in love. Afterwards.....well afterwards everything was different. All the clichés, from every second-rate song and movie, I had them all. The butterflies in the stomach when she was near, dry mouth when she spoke to me. I always knew where she was, every second of every day. And every night she slept in the next four-poster to me, I could have reached through the curtains of the bed and held her hand. I didn't of course. How could someone as beautiful and brave and talented as she want me?
But being around her was enough.
That was my fourth year, a young, plain-looking, averagely talented witch in love with a beautiful heroine. But I was happy. I'd wake up and see Hermione in the dorm, always up before me and Parvati, and my heart would leap for joy. See what I mean about clichés? Like I said I had them all. She'd smile at me sometimes. Just smile, and I'd feel warm and soft inside all day.
I never told her of course. Never have. Never told anyone. Only one person had an idea, but that was in the fifth year.
So my fourth year came to an end. I missed her dreadfully during the summer holidays of course but in a strange way it felt right. The whole unrequited love thing suited me I guess. I didn't mope about the place or anything so self-indulgent. I hugged the memories of her to me and carried on. A real Gryffindor who might, someday, be good enough, brave enough, to tell her and have her love me back.
I felt the same all the way through fifth year. I tried to be like her, to be good enough for her. I joined the DA to try to be worthy enough, one of the first to arrive at the meeting in The Hog's Head, I signed up with a flourish. I loved the DA. I was close to Hermione and I was standing up for what was right. It gave me the strength to make it through the year. I could still be a lioness you see.
I was brave and I could fight. I pledged then that I would do what I could to protect her. That year I was too late. Parvati and I arrived too late to join the mission to The Ministry. We stood there and watched as the distant thestrals dwindled into the south. Parvati furious that she couldn't fight, I in tears as I watched my beloved Hermione disappear, maybe never to see her again. But one of them looked back. Luna looked back at us from the darkening sky and it seemed, through my tears, that she understood.
She must have done, she must have understood. On the first day back in my sixth year Luna gave me a present. She walked up after the feast and took me by the hand into an empty classroom and gave me an envelope. She didn't say anything, just smiled one of her faraway smiles and put her finger to her lips to indicate it was a secret. In the envelope was a drawing. A drawing of Hermione done by Luna. A pencil sketch that smiled at me with such happiness and love that I could hardly bear it. I enchanted it to keep it in perfect condition and have kept it with me ever since. Through fire and fear and fighting a version of Hermione that actually loves me, that loves plain, average little Lavender, has been with me. It's with me now, I'm looking at it as I'm telling you this. It's almost been enough for me this drawing. Almost.
In my sixth year I became a little crazy. A little desperate I suppose. It seemed that there was every possibility our peaceful world would end, and that it would end in death for many of us. Maybe for me, probably for my Hermione. I still couldn't tell her, the lioness inside wasn't brave enough you see. It could stand up to death eaters and fear and even to my anxiety over Hermione's safety But it couldn't stand up to the terror of being rejected.
So, like many teenagers before me I resorted to the crappiest of subterfuges. I tried to make her jealous. With bloody Ronald Weasley of all people. That sounds rude, I don't mean it to be. For someone who isn't Hermione he's a lovely bloke. I don't blame Hermione for.....but that was the next year, I'm getting ahead of myself again.
For a couple of months I would take every opportunity to grab Ron and snog him. It wasn't that bad actually, he was sweet and nice and we both learned how to kiss. I hope Hermione appreciates all the groundwork I did. Well, obviously it didn't work did it? She didn't come running into my arms, didn't realize it was me she wanted all along so we finished it, Ron and I.
There was a small battle at the end of that year, the same night Dumbledore was murdered. I was late joining the fight; I'd spent my DA enchanted galleon on some horrible necklace for Ron to keep up the pretence. Anyway, by the time I reached the battle it was chaos....jinxed and injured people lying everywhere, and there, right in the thick of it she stood and fought. Hermione battled them all. For the first time the lioness inside me roared, it roared and I joined the fight. That Lestrange bitch aimed a killing curse at her, at my Hermione, but I deflected it.
I was exultant, I could do this, I was worth something at last. I had saved Hermione's life. I saved a few more that night. I'm pretty sure most of the attackers had little regard for me, but that just meant I could spend my efforts protecting others; Ginny, Nev, Luna and a few more. Not killing curses admittedly, but hexes and jinxes and falling masonry.
When it was over we all stood in the courtyard beneath the dark mark and grieved for Dumbledore. Some stood there proud and defiant, heads high in the face of such a terrible calamity, and I was one of them.
Parvati and Padma were taken home the next day, but I stayed. I stayed for the funeral and to try to find Hermione, sure that now, at last, I had found the courage I needed. But I didn't find her amidst the chaos and preparations. I saw her briefly at the service but then they were gone, she and Harry and Ron. But I had my drawing and she'd be back next year. Or so I thought.
My seventh year was horrible; no Parvati, no Hermione, but I did have new friends. Ginny and Luna and Nev. Nev particularly, even though he spent so much time leading the resistance, he seemed to realize I was missing someone. I'm fairly sure he thought it was Ron. It didn't matter though, his many kindnesses always brightened my day, and his leadership kept me strong as well. The lioness was still there, still inside. Growling and waiting.
Then one day it all went wrong. The day of the final battle. It started so well, Parvati came back to join us and then, I almost dared not believe it, she returned. My Hermione was back. It started with such hope that day. Such hope.
Parvati and I stood together in the front line as the attack began. We were good as a team; she could defend me and I could protect others. We stood there and fought, the lioness inside rampant and roaring.
Then I saw them, Hermione and Ron, they were suddenly there, in the thick of things, in each others arms. The lioness became a cub, mewling in fear and longing to hide. I knew I would never be with her, never in the way that I'd dreamed of. Like the castle around us my hopes lay shattered and in ruins. I faltered.
The next thing I knew that stinking Greyback was on me, his teeth in my throat and the stench of him in my nostrils. Old Trelawney saved my life. Daft old Sybil dropped a crystal ball on him and smashed his filthy skull. But the damage was done. As I slipped into unconsciousness the only wound that hurt was the one in my heart.
Mum and Dad nursed me back to health. The wound in my throat healed quickly and the one in my heart didn't. It still hasn't. It was stupid of me wasn't it? To base all my hopes on someone returning the love I felt for them. But I'd do it again, in a second. Loving Hermione brought out the best in me, the Gryffindor that was hidden behind the self-doubt.
But the Lioness inside was still a terrified cub. And I was terrified too. terrified of the scorn and fear the world would regard me with when they discovered I was a monster.
So I ran away. I left a note for Mum and Dad and made it to the depths of Siberia before the next full moon. I wanted to be far from people, to have time to find out if the proud, brave lioness that had once been inside me had been replaced with a ravening beast.
It took five years. But I discovered I am still me. Certainly not the brave young woman who once faced the death eater onslaught, but neither the slavering beast that I had feared. I am Lavender Brown. Plain, average and still in love with a young witch who stole my heart and gave me back hope and courage. I can sometimes go a whole day without looking at Luna's drawing. Not often, but sometimes.
I got back here, back to Mum and Dad's, a few of days ago. Just over three weeks to the next full moon. Time to sort things out. Find a supply of wolfsbane potion, tell the ministry I'm home and need to be registered. To put on a collar and be given a kennel.
That was the plan anyway. Until last night that is. We were having supper, Mum, Dad and I, when an owl arrived. An official ministry owl, from The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. It said that my return had been noted and the head of department would be over in the morning for an interview.
They're due any minute. I sent Mum and Dad away. This is my fight, my fight for my future and I have a lioness on my side. She's back, my Gryffindor lioness. She awoke when I read the letter last night, awoke with a rumbling growl at the injustice. I am not a creature, I'm not their fucking dog. I'm a witch, not the best ever, but a witch. A human. One who fought with the best against the worst and won.
If it takes the rest of my life to win back my respect, to change the magical world for the better, to rid it of another stupid fucking prejudice then that'll be my next battle. I'm still scared though, but that's what courage is after all, facing down your fears.
That's the doorbell. Chin up Lavender. Open the door and face your future.
It's Hermione! The head of department is Hermione! She's smiling and saying it's good to see me and welcome back. And Parvati and Ginny and Luna and Nev. And Hermione's hugging me and I've tears pouring down my face. We're in each others arms and I am invincible.
My name is Lavender Brown and I'm back.