It was one of those days that the weather seemed to reflect Lavender's mood, like Paris was mourning with her. The skies were a stony grey that held the vague threat of rain but mainly reeked of the depression of a new year that had already fallen flat. She didn't even think the wonder of Paris could take away the dull ache in her heart. She had thought that she had long since passed the days where she would hide away from the world.
Lavender had wanted to believe that she had moved forward but flickers of the past burst forward into her consciousness like vivid strands of a forgotten yesterday. It was hard to believe that recovery had come and gone but she didn't feel any better. She had thought moving to Paris was her escape, her declaration that time had moved on, but she was just as helpless here as she was five years ago stuck in her London flat when Parvati had come knocking. In the last two years since moving, she had fallen in love with this city. She felt connected to its very essence: Parvati was gone but the city remained.
Paris had a wonderful magical community but it was the Muggle parts that really caught her imagination. It was time to stop herself falling into a pit of despair. She hadn't been taking their breakup well. Lavender knew it was her fault because part of her never felt she deserved the love that Parvati offered - it was too pure. She felt that she could never love in the same way. She was too broken, like a piece of fine china, shattered but glued back together to give the illusion of wholeness. She hated herself on days like this because she knew she had let Parvati go without a fight. Perhaps they would meet again because their stories were so entwined, like ivy that grows in every available space. She had heard from a contact in the art world that Parvati was now living in Seville.
Her mood wasn't helped by the idea of Valentine's day looming on the horizon like a threatening thundercloud. The sense that she would be alone was enough to make her heart sink, but she decided that she needed to visit the place where she fell in love.
The Musée d'Orsay was her oasis. She had never thought of herself as artistic until she visited there. It opened her eyes to what art could be and how it could make her feel. She had visited so many galleries since but it was Musée d'Orsay that had made her fall for a world she thought she never belonged in. Her feet seemed to know where they were going, they carried her effortlessly. Someone who saw her walking might think she was aimless but it was merely because she was so at home. She just let the art wash over her.
*
She finally sat down on her favourite bench near one of her favorites, Starry Night Over the Rhone. She loved the way the brush strokes made the stars shine and the reflections in the water above were so relaxing.
"I thought I would find you here," said a voice which was instantly recognisable. She turned to see his face, sandy coloured hair and smile as wide as the sun. She felt its warmth. "I knew when you weren't at your flat that you could only be here."
She had never been happier to see him, and she found her mouth slowly turning into a smile. She hadn't spent much time smiling recently but seeing her best friend was like being pulled back from the edge. She had wanted to reach out to him so badly, but instead she'd painted a picture of her wonderful rich lifestyle in Paris because it was easier than saying ‘I'm not ok'. She couldn't believe that he had come for her. His irish accent was music to her ears. Now, it was so obvious how much she had cut herself off from her real friends, choosing to surround herself with people who didn't know her well enough to uncover how dark she felt.
"You know me too well," she commented lightly as she pulled him into a tight hug. She suddenly felt a little lighter knowing that however much she ran there was someone who would always find her. "Fancy a coffee?"
"As long as we can make it Irish!"
*
They settled into a cute cafe nearby. She often came alone so she was able to people watch or read a book. There was something calming about the Muggle part of the city as opposed to the wizarding side. She thought that it was probably the idea of being able to blend into the background that she found so appealing.
"I don't suppose that you've remembered that you said I could stay at the apartment then?"
She didn't reply for a minute. Her brain tried to recall when she had said that. She assumed it must have been before Parvati left. The Quidditch World Cup. Seamus had gotten tickets ages ago. It was all that he had talked about for ages. He had reminisced about Ireland being in the Final when he went before fourth year. She vaguely remembered being told that the tournament had been moved to the winter to accommodate the launch of Quadpot to an international market from one of Seamus' previous letters. His question seemed to pass her by as her thoughts returned to Parvati.
"How is she?"
She shouldn't have asked because she didn't want to know. The idea that Parvati was happier now was both positive and heartbreaking. Lavender knew that she was in Seville. She was safe. Wasn't that enough?
Parvati was probably better off without the burden of Lavender's grief hanging around her neck. No-one wanted that medal.
"I think you need to stop torturing yourself, L"
Lavender thought that was exactly what she deserved though.
Maybe it was all she knew how to do.
She had forgotten what it had been like to have a real friend like Seamus. They had always been in touch, even when she was falling apart, but it wasn't the same as having him here with her. He knew her better than almost everyone else. She didn't have anywhere to hide anymore, she couldn't make excuses. She needed to face her problems. Lavender was scared.
"We went through so much together," he said softly. He had this look in his eyes, She knew that look. It was the waves of the past pushed to the front of your mind. She was more than familiar. "Everyone who was there that day carries that pain in their heart still, I know I do."
She was strong enough to reach out for his hand. She couldn't help but be surprised by his admission. Seamus was far stronger than she would ever be. If people as strong as him could still feel it then maybe she wasn't weak after all. Maybe she was just human. They had never really discussed the impact the war had left on them. Directly after the war, Lavender was too busy playing it out like a horror show that people didn't need to ask because she obviously wasn't alright.
She had forgotten that Seamus had been a ring leader for Dumbledore's Army that he had been tortured himself as a child. Those experiences mark a person. Lavender wondered if he had talked about those feelings with anyone else.
It felt good to address it though. She needed to admit that she had awful emotional scars from the war. Scars that made her push away people that she cared about. The war would always be a defining point in her life. She couldn't change that. It was the future that she could have some type of control over. She could change that.
"I spend my time hiding my feelings by blowing things up when I'm in the office to make people laugh," he continued. A look of pain flashed across his face "I need you to know that we have our own ways to cope but I promise you that you're not alone."
Not alone.
This felt new.
*
Her mood had improved since his arrival. She hadn't even thought about the fact that when he left the laughter might stop too. It didn't matter because she was able to live in the present for the first time in a long while. The laughter between the two of them that filled her flat had been refreshing. She felt a little lighter realising that she had not thought about Parvati in days.
"Think fast!"
A pastry came flying towards her head from the hands of a grinning Seamus. Seamus obviously didn't understand the art of a French croissant if he would rather throw it than eat it. Lavender flicked her wand lightly and croissant changed course flying back across the room towards Seamus.
"Bombarda!" he said, aiming at the pastry.
She could only assume that he wasn't familiar with how this spell worked because she could think of no other explanation as to why he decided to blow a hole in her flat. Luckily she lived in the wizarding district. It was not unheard of having explosions every now and again. It didn't stop it being really funny though as she got to her feet. It was raining pastry flakes within the flat. Seamus just looked sheepish. A vague smile crossed his face as he tried to figure out how much trouble he was in.
"This was a French croissant, not the rubbish you get in England you know!"
They looked at each other and laughed in a way that only best friends could. There was obviously a bit of magic within laughter. Lavender knew laughter must have some healing properties at least. When they were finished, there came a comfortable silence, a calm feeling like no other.
"I'm glad the quality of the pastry is your main concern here."
"You don't waste the best," she said with a wicked smile.
*
One morning, she wandered into the living room feeling rather sleepy. She found Seamus already clothed reading the newspaper with two mugs on her coffee table. He gestured his head towards the coffee. She gratefully got a mug and joined him on the sofa. Before she could say anything, he came out with something a bit unexpected.
"I've got tickets to the Quidditch Cup Final and I want you to come with me."
She had been to many parties during her time in Paris. It always felt slightly uncomfortable, even on a good day. Other times, she felt herself float around the room as if not truly there. It wasn't that she didn't want to go but the invitation felt different to others. She had been trying to rediscover herself throughout these last couple of weeks. She felt like she needed to learn a lot of things again. She wasn't sure that she was ready for something so big and loud yet. She didn't want to take one step forward and two back.
"I know it would be a big deal and I understand if it's too much," he said as if he was reading her mind, "and you don't care about sports but the Andorra team has two insanely hot beaters. I know you love Quidditch players. I wouldn't ask if I didn't think you could do it."
"I do love Quidditch players." she said thoughtfully.
"Why don't you give me an answer over dinner?"
The idea swirled around her mind for many hours. It had sparked something inside of her. She didn't exactly know how to feel about it. Seamus had gone off to the semi-finals today. There was something else that rose from his absence. Lavender had enjoyed her own company for the first time in a long while. She went to see her favourite painting again. There was something about the feeling that she got there. She knew she would be making the right decision.
"I'd like to go," were the words that she announced to Seamus that evening. They ate dinner in a small restaurant overlooking the Seine. The river flowed gracefully and the lights from the surrounding buildings reflected the water below. Just like her painting. They hadn't noticed the date until they split a bottle of wine with dessert but afterwards she felt this was the best Valentine's Day she had in awhile.
*
She had never been to an event of this size. A vision of swirling red and gold hit her first. It was a huge display that filled the sky before her. In reality, it was the bold Chinese flag in her vision but she felt like it represented Gryffindor. Red was a colour that she always felt a kinship with. She had once been happy at Hogwarts and in Gryffindor, so happy that she never wanted to go home and leave the mighty castle.
She hadn't enjoyed sports at Hogwarts apart from enjoying the players now and again. This was different to anything she had experienced before as the whole place felt so completely alive. The colours of the huge flags fluttered in the light breeze and the sound of happiness with the slight hint of chaos rang in her ears.
She had to admit that she was slightly in awe of her surroundings. Seamus had been right in all his stories of this event. It was unlike anything that she had ever seen before. She had been going through the motions for so long that she didn't really know how to cope with such an intense display of jubilation. She walked wide eyed through the mountain of mismatched tents, little children giggling and someone had just let off an everlasting firework display which sailed through air emitting the red, yellow and blue of Andorra.
Lavender wandered through the crowds. Suddenly, she realised with a jolt that Seamus was no longer by her side. She looked all around for him. She couldn't see him anywhere. This wasn't something that she had prepared for. She wasn't safe here. She closed her eyes thinking hard. Trying not to panic.
The cold floor.
The crimson droplets.
Reflection of light.
A wisp of blonde hair.
The sound of her own joyful laughter.
The images swirled around her in sharp focus, then it hit her like a train. She didn't need him to walk beside her. She had always needed someone. She had never been alone properly. She depended so heavily on other people throughout her healing process. She knew that she could never have a healthy relationship with others while she was so dependent on them. Parvati had stayed so long because she loved the person that Lavender used to be so much. Lavender was sure that parts of that version of herself were there still. She had changed a lot at the same time though. She had never truly embraced herself as a survivor, only as a victim.
She was happy to be alive.
"I'm so sorry! I got talking to this guy from work and then you were just gone. I was worr-"
"Don't worry, I'm going to be fine."
And that was the truth. The pain wouldn't go away but she could be stronger than it. Who knew what the future would hold?
A freeing thought flashed before her eyes. Parvati might find her way back to her, or maybe not, but at least Lavender could love herself now.