Lavender Brown
No words could describe how excited Lavender was as she gazed at the castle in the horizon, the small boat floating across the large lake closer to their destination. She squeezed her hands in a fist, a smile curled over her lips, as her excitement nearly made her vibrate in her seat.
She always knew that she was going to attend Hogwarts but imagination was far from reality. She had only heard about Hogwarts from her mum and dad who always entertained her of their stories when they were students.
Frankly, she didn’t care about the magical aspects of the school—as amazing as it actually was to actually learn and do magic this time—but how her mum and dad met each other, how they fell in love, and eventually got married after graduating from Hogwarts.
Like soulmates, her mum once said to her. The moment they met when they were first years, sorted into different houses, yet eventually met again in their sixth year, as if it was fate, her mum would tell the story to her every few months, and Lavender never tired of listening to it.
Nothing was more magical than meeting the one you were destined with when you’re young, growing up with them, getting to explore the world with them, and knowing that they were your first and your last.
Lavender sighed in a dreamy fashion, the boats slowly rocking towards the dock, the lanterns floating above the water. Everything seemed to come out of a fairytale, and it was so beautiful to see her mum’s stories come to life before her. She couldn’t wait to be at Hogwarts already, to create and form friendships, and find her soulmates among her classmates.
The boats drifted to a stop at a landing spot, Hagrid—a massive man built like a mountain—encouraged them to get out and follow him. Lavender waited for the person beside her to step out first—her name was Parvati, a very cute girl whom she rode with on the train—holding at the edge when the boat jostled at her movement. Once she got out, Lavender went next.
She stepped out of the boat and abruptly slipped on the wet patch of dirt. She yelped, hands scrambling to find her balance. One of her knees fell in a painful thud, when someone grabbed her hand and prevented her from falling further.
“Woah,” a soft voice spoke near to her ear, “careful there...”
Lavender’s head shot up, breath held in her chest. She blinked her blue eyes at the boy in front of her. Skinny, a bit taller, with curls to die for and eyes that were a soulful brown. For a boy, he was seriously pretty, especially with the light from the lanterns reflecting in his eyes and his high cheekbones flushed pink due to the cold.
He slowly held her up to her feet, gingerly as to not strain the knee she fell on, one arm snaking around her waist. Her cheeks heated immediately, his warmth radiating into her from his side. Butterflies squirmed in her stomach when she caught a whiff of his smell—an oddly sweet subtle scent Lavender couldn’t name. It was addicting however, making her eyes flutter, her body leaning her weight against him.
Heady by his scent and closeness, she forgot the pain she inflicted on her knee and winced when she unconsciously moved. Almost instantly, he casted worried eyes over her figure, lingering on the leg she was trying not to put her weight on.
“Are you alright, Lavender?” Parvati asked a couple of feet away, looking as though tempted to head towards them.
Lavender hoped she wouldn’t.
“I’m alright!” she called out to assure her, glancing at the boy helping her. “I’m alright now. You can go ahead, Parvati. Don’t worry about me.”
Parvati hesitated for a brief moment, glancing at the boy. Lavender tried not to bristle and do something irrational like pulling the boy under her robes so Parvati would stop looking at him. But then Hagrid called out to the crowd and Parvati nodded at her, turning on her heel to follow after the mountainous man, leaving Lavender with the boy.
She peeked at him shyly under her lashes, and froze when she found that he was already looking at her. A painfully loud thump came from her chest, so loud she worried he heard it. It didn’t seem as though he did as his eyes strayed to their clasped hands.
He gave her an apologetic grin—those soulful brown eyes staring into hers as if he knew her inside out, as if he could see no one else but her. She was the center of his universe, and she found herself breathless at the thought.
“I’m sorry for holding you without your permission,” he said, his voice velvety smooth.
The butterflies in her stomach fluttered faster.
“It—It’s okay!” Lavender was quick to assure him, squeezing his hand. Oddly, it was even softer than hers and he had such long, elegant fingers too. “No, it’s my fault for being so clumsy.”
The left corner of his lips tipped higher than the right, amusement coloring in his eyes. His lips were plump, especially at the bottom, which matched his doe eyes. Embarrassingly, the idea of kissing him came unbidden in her mind, one that made her stare a bit longer at his lips until he started speaking, and she just had to snap her eyes elsewhere lest she did something outrageous.
Her mum certainly hadn’t kissed her dad the first time they met. Lavender needed to get a hold of herself. She didn’t even know his name yet.
“No, you’re not clumsy,” he consoled her, voice soothing, almost like a coo, and Lavender tried not to melt. “You just happened to step on a wet patch, is all. It’s not your fault.”
Before she could reply, he suddenly knelt on one knee while still holding her hand, taking his arm from her waist to brush the stain off her legs.
She nearly swooned if it weren’t for the pain spreading across her injured knee. Her heart bumped louder in her chest when he looked up, thick lashes framing his eyes. His eyelashes were so long as well—longer than hers even.
A giggle came out of her lips, unconscious, abrupt. She would be almost embarrassed if his perfect smile hadn’t stretched wider, exposing two rows of straight teeth except for the two jutting longer than the others in front at the top.
He had buckteeth, but it suited him—it made him look like a bunny. It was adorable.
A sudden thought lingered in her mind. Was this the Prince Charming her mum always read to her about? Could this person be her first and last? Being someone’s first and last, their one and only, like her mum had been to her dad, and her dad to her mum, was like a dream come true for her.
Lavender always wanted to find a great love on the first try and at the very moment, she was certain she had found hers. Just the thought made her blush hotter against the cold breeze.
“The ground is slick because of the lake,” the boy said, looking ahead where their other future classmates had taken to following Hagrid. “Why don’t you lean on me while we follow them? Afterwards, when we’re done getting sorted, we can go to the Hospital Wing or ask a professor to fix your knee. Does it still hurt?”
Lavender quickly nodded her head, afraid he would let go of her hand if she answered otherwise. She could see his worry growing and she tried not to show how obviously charmed she was when he once again slung his arm around her waist, pulling her close to his side, not minding the stares they garnered as they walked—well, she limped—to where Hagrid was heading.
She found herself glancing at him from time to time, mesmerized by his curls and his eyes, his cheekbones, the long curl of his lashes. He was gentle with his hold, as if he believed she was a delicate glass that needed careful touches. He didn’t even seem to notice the couple of stares they earned seeing him holding her intimately in public. If he did, he didn’t seem to mind it, paying more attention to her than he did to them.
She liked that.
Their strides were slow in consideration to the bruise on her knee. He pointed out the rocks and uneven surfaces in her path, his grip tightening over her waist whenever he did. He let her walk in front of him, gaze darting to the ground then upwards to her eyes, and Lavender would blush at the smile he always aimed at her when their eyes locked.
Everything about this boy was soft, gentle, and sweet. He had even apologized for touching her without permission! Not even the boys she played with at the muggle park apologized for dirtying her dress or breaking her toys. They always pulled at her pigtails and made fun of her dolls. They pushed her down and threw dirt at her, and they never helped pull her up whenever she fell.
Her parents always told her that it was the norm. Boys were rowdy and dirty. They liked to play roughly with each other and Lavender would just have to keep up if she wanted to be friends with them. Well, she didn’t want to, so she never played with them again, even though her dad insisted she should be the bigger person. Whatever that meant.
This boy was different from those boys however. He held her hand and tried to clean her up and he didn’t make fun of the two braids her mum styled her hair earlier this morning. Lavender was even more convinced that he was nothing short of a prince.
So different from all those boys in the playground for certain.
Her mum would love his manners and how he was treating Lavender like she was his princess—which was only appropriate. A princess was always the perfect match for a prince.
“What’s your name?” Lavender asked as they reached the entrance of the castle, looking up at the grand staircase ahead.
Despite the daunting prospect it would have on her injury, a smile still came its way to her lips as she realized it would only prolong their moment together.
He blinked his eyes as if surprised. “Oh, god, did I forget to mention my name?” he responded with a sheepish laugh as they entered inside the castle. “I’m so sorry. That was careless and rude of me.”
“It’s alright, I didn’t introduce myself either,” Lavender said, giggling as she leaned closer to his side to avoid a student from colliding into her.
The hallway had narrowed, making them shuffle closer to each other. He didn’t seem to mind her closeness, allowing their proximity without even a hint of the same panic boys would get whenever she strayed close to them.
Under the candlelight lighting their path, he appeared even more mesmerizing as if he had just stepped out of a dream. His porcelain smooth skin seemed to glisten as if he was made from water and one touch would make him ripple. His dignified posture exuded a quiet confidence and self-assurance that Lavender had only seen from men like her dad and his friends, never from boys her age.
Aside from smelling wonderfully, his dark robes were clean and neat, not a wrinkle in sight, except for his shoes which were wet and dirty from the grassy field they just trekked through. His hair was curlier and bushier than she realized, a rich brown that was darker at the roots but lighter and more golden at the tips, coiling at the nape of his neck. But his eyes were still a soulful brown that made everything fade and disappear once she looked into them.
“My name’s Lavender. Lavender Brown,” she introduced herself, gazing at him through her lashes.
“Lavender like the flower or the color? Either way,” his eyes curved into little crescent moons, “they’re both very pretty.”
Her breath hitched, her mouth going agape. How did he know? She didn’t think any boy would know. Most boys she met only knew the color Lavender, hardly anyone knew about the flower—they didn’t even know it was both a color and a flower. Most of the time, they just assumed lavender was just her name and nothing more. Yet, this boy knew both!
And he said her name was pretty. Could he get any more perfect?
“Thank you,” she said, tilting her head shyly.
“My name is Hermione,” the boy said and Lavender blinked.
Rather odd name for a boy.
“Sounds like a girl’s name, is it?” Lavender commented, only realizing a bit later how offensive her statement was. She immediately tried to amend her mistake. “I mean… it just… it sounds like a girl’s name, most commonly—Hermione. But—but it suits you! It’s rather fitting—I mean, it fits you. It’s… very pretty…”
Oh, gosh. What was she saying? Mortified, she looked away, unable to meet his gaze in case she saw disdain or anger. But then he laughed again and Lavender’s tense shoulders dropped. She peeked at him from the corner of her eyes, relieved he didn’t appear offended. Rather, he looked amused.
“It’s probably because I’m a girl,” he said with a grin.
Which was—
Huh?
“What?” Lavender asked, her voice dropping.
His lips tilted higher. “I’m a girl,” he said as if it was one of the most obvious things in the world.
Lavender’s brain seemed to be have been hit with a stupefy. Because what did he—she—just say?
She couldn’t help but stare at him—her—gauging the seriousness of his statement. He was looking ahead at the staircase where a tall lady in emerald robes and pointy hat was waiting for them at the highest step.
Lavender didn’t notice them all, her focus entirely stolen by the boy—no, by the girl holding her on her waist.
Her prince… turned out to be a princess.
“Lavender?”
The blonde girl came back to the present.
She suddenly found herself in the Hogwarts library, amid dozens of parchments and open reference books scattered around the table before her. She blinked her eyes, disoriented for a brief moment, and looked up at the person calling her name.
And there she was.
Hermione.
“Are you alright?” Hermione asked, her free hand reaching out to brush the blonde baby hairs from Lavender’s forehead.
Lavender’s cheeks heated at her soft touch. “Sorry, was just thinking about something,” she replied, ducking her head to the parchment in front of her.
So lost was she in her recollections of the first time Lavender met her, she hadn’t even noticed Hermione calling her. How embarrassing.
Hermione’s eyebrows were furrowed as she looked over at her. She was standing beside Lavender’s seated form, her back slightly slouched against the bookcase beside Lavender’s table, her ankles crossed. She was holding an open book in one hand, her robes opening partially to reveal the black slacks, white Oxford shirt, and Gryffindor tie she was wearing.
The sun from the window behind her back casted her in a warm glow that was nearly ethereal, making her curls burn a brighter rich brown. She looked effortlessly gorgeous, all casual grace and nonchalance, as if she didn’t know the effect she had on everyone.
Lavender knew from personal experience that Hermione really had no idea the effect she had on people.
“We can take a break, you know,” Hermione suggested, straightening her back. She sauntered to Lavender and stopped next to her, moving into her space without crowding her. She placed her book on the table, before looking at her with soft eyes that still rendered Lavender speechless.
Hermione hardly changed since the first time they met five years ago, when they’d been first years and she had been kind enough to help Lavender. Until now, Hermione’s helpful nature was still present, as evidenced by the open books Lavender had around her table.
And Lavender—she was the same.
Hermione still made her heart pound even after knowing that she was a girl. But it was a fact that Lavender, more or less, accepted. After all—she casted her eyes around and noticed the number of discreet stares aimed at her housemate—she wasn’t the only one.
“I’m fine, we can still continue,” Lavender replied with a disdainful sniff, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder.
Hermione’s lips lifted into a bemused smile. “Normally, I’d advocate for the same, but you’ve zoned out at least four times in the last hour and hardly replied when I call your name to get your attention. I admire your tenacity, but I’m also aware you’re not used to studying in long periods. Ergo, we need a break.”
Lavender frowned. It was true she was zoning out but that was only because she was busy remembering the first time they met. She opened her mouth to protest, but then Hermione reached out and pressed a long, slender finger against her mouth, and Lavender froze.
“Lavender,” Hermione tutted, taking her finger away from Lavender’s mouth to her chin, tapping it lightly, “let’s not be stubborn now, alright? Hmm?”
Lavender unconsciously nodded, staring at Hermione as she pulled away with a satisfied air around her. And Lavender—she was simply helpless as she watched Hermione rearrange the books around the table and organize them according to their subjects. She did so without using magic, which fascinated Lavender a bit. Some habits were hard to break it seemed.
A couple of third years passed by, all giggling as they greeted Hermione, who raised her gaze to give them a friendly wave. Lavender tried not to glare at the younger girls.
“Where’s Parvati, by the way?” Hermione asked, pulling the quill from Lavender’s limp grasp to set it aside with the ink pots and parchments.
“She’s banned from the library,” Lavender replied.
“Banned? What did she do?”
Lavender sniffed. “She’s just banned, is all. Why are you asking?”
She didn’t want Parvati around when Hermione was. Parvati had a habit of being touchy with Hermione. Hence, Lavender banned her from the library so she wouldn’t interfere during her study date—session, she meant—with the brunette.
It was already difficult enough to get Hermione alone nowadays, ever since Harry freaking Potter took her to the Yule Ball last year, wearing a periwinkle dress and looking absolutely breathtaking that it promptly made them lose their minds. Lavender was still pissed off about that.
Hermione laughed under her breath. “Usually, you and Parvati are stuck to the hip. I hardly see you two without the other. That’s why I’m asking why she’s not around. I thought, when you offered to study together for OWLs, Parvati would be joining us as well.”
“Kind of like how you, Harry, and Ron are stuck together?” Lavender retorted with a snort. “Speaking of those two, where are they, anyway? I thought they’d be the ones joining us.”
“Ron, studying?” Hermione sounded amused as she shook her head. “No, I didn’t ask them to study with us. I wanted to spend time with you without them distracting you. That’s why I didn’t ask.”
Lavender’s mouth dried. “O-oh,” she breathed out, her gaze sliding to the side, heart ringing in her ears at Hermione’s casual remark. “I… thought you’d want them around, considering how close you three are. It might make things more fun for you.”
“I always have fun when I’m with you, Lavender,” was Hermione’s sincere reply, which didn’t work wonders for her health if her loud heartbeat was any indication.
Lavender peeked at her through her lashes, watching as Hermione turned her back toward her, heading to the bookshelves.
They were no longer eleven years olds trying to find their place in this strange, magical castle away from home. Yet, Lavender was still the same as ever.
She still longed to be someone’s first and last and to be their great love the same way her mum and dad had shown her. She was still hung up on her Prince Charming, the ones her mum used to read to her back when she was young.
Some part of her would always yearn to have that with Hermione. She didn’t think it would change any time soon. Her tea leaves and crystal balls said as much.
No matter how many times she wished, this wasn’t a fairytale. Lavender wasn’t a princess, and she would’ve done Hermione a disservice by calling her a prince when she was more than that.
“Are you hungry?” Hermione asked as she returned to her side. “Do you want me to grab you some food or drink? It’s nearly time for lunch.”
Lavender shook her head, coming out of her stupor. “No, I’m still full. Thank you, though.”
Hermione hummed and absentmindedly ran her fingers through Lavender’s hair. “Alright. Just tell me when you’re hungry.“
Lavender smiled, nodding her head.
Who needed a prince anyway, when reality had Hermione?