A/N: This is super AU, unapologetic head-canon. I'm just happy to be writing again, so I went with it. I hope you enjoy it.
So, the sparknotes is as follows: Lavender Brown survives the War. For now, this is a Lavender Brown/Neville Longbottom one-shot. I clearly do not know much about British or Wizard law and I apologize in advance for that! Please let me know what you think, or if you would like to see more.
Longer note at the bottom.
Lavender Brown: Private Eye
Lavender Brown knew she looked intimidating - that was the point. She looked a smidge older, which she liked, especially considering her profession. She felt that some of the older clients, and also subjects she would often interview, sometimes took her more seriously when she wore a fitted jacket and her witch's cap pulled low over one eye. On the other side of her head, a large victory-roll style curl was pinned high on top of her head. It was all very much stylized and purposefully drew the eye away from the opposite side of her face, where the scar from The Battle of Hogwarts marked her features. She was proud of surviving, but her looks had always been important to her, and even so many years later it was hard to accept the way she looked in a mirror. But it was getting better. And for now, she had more recently enjoyed using it in her favor. She looked beautiful, but with a terrible and gruesome secret. She had laughed in delight after Dean Thomas had showed her old femme fatale movies of the muggle variety after the war, and had found it easy to replicate some of the looks with the latest in witch fashion. She was a Private Investigator, and she took pride in looking the part.
She had apparated to the gates of Hogwarts not 10 minutes before arriving at the Herbology Greenhouses. She had a wide grin on her face, which looked a bit more severe that she usually would have intended, but that's what you get wearing a dark red lip. She couldn't help it- she was looking forward to seeing his face when he saw her. She knew that hiding her injury was pointless, he was there when it happened, but she had grown pleased with her skills at disguising it over the years. She thought she now looked quite interesting, if not alluring. Usually she wore a more subdued lip, but had found the most striking red in the shop just last week. Seeing Neville Longbottom after four years was certainly a good enough occasion to finally open the fresh tube for the first time.
She took her time applying it that morning, peacefully focusing on creating a cupid's bow on her top lip. She had loved makeup as a child, before the injury, but now the process was akin to an ancient ritual. Pavarti had gifted her many books on the subject of makeup and magic, and as they grew older their conversations had turned from fantasy to practical applications. If things had turned out differently, if there had been no war, Lavender liked to think things would have still turned out the same when it came to their interest in enchanted cosmetics, but she couldn't be sure. While Lavender had enjoyed their discussions together as a friendly hobby, Parvarti had turned it into her profession. She had officially launched her own line of enchanted witch's beauty products a few years ago, and it had been a smashing success so far. Lavender was an early test subject. Parvarti's first invention had been a concealer for Lavender's torn skin, and she cried in delicate joy the first time her friend gently dabbed it over the scar tissue. The next test batch went better, as did her reaction when Parvati tried the second application. As the years went by, the discoloration wasn't as angry as it had been after the incident, but it hadn't faded in time, either. Makeup just helped people move past her face without a second glance. Better yet, Parvati's line also was very blendable and offered the perfect to-go palette for a buttery copper smokey eye. Even her scars wouldn't stop her from ever enjoying makeup, after all. It was a girly, and she knew some thought silly, hobby. She made no secret that she enjoyed it and wouldn't apologize to a scoffing Hermione Granger about it the last time they had tea. They had met at the local shop and Lavender had spent 30 minutes applying an outrageous cat eye, partly to make Hermione uncomfortable, and it Hermione would never get old, even all these years later. The friendship had started again during Lavender's internship at the legal mediation firm during Hermione's divorce proceedings. Lavender had never forgotten what Hermione had done for her, although Hermione still refused to take credit any credit.
The lines across her face was given to her the night of The Final Battle, and they were cursed. Even though Fenir Greyback was in his form as a human man, his werewolf venom was still potent. She had been chased through a second floor corridor, and without realizing where she was had fallen over the balcony rail and fell two flights to the stone floor below. Before she could utter a cry, Greyback was on her. He pinned her to the ground and smiled, watching her suffer before a long moment. She struggled, and she screamed again as her leg tore painfully under the weight of his body. She couldn't catch a good breath, and when she could, it was with a gulp of his putrid breath. He licked her neck before biting it, slowly. Professor Trelawney, at this point she later learned, had dropped a crystal ball from above onto his head. She was already unconscious by that point, and good thing she was. Even though the force knocked his jaw loose again, he bit down again on her 1st rib and clavicle, and dragging his filthy claws down her right eye, continuing through her nose and curling the right side of her lip into a permanent frown. The ruined flesh continued down her temple and cheek to her jaw. Greyback's teeth had barely missed tearing out her neck, and the repositioning of his maw had stalled the immediate ending of her life. The rib (among other bones) broke as Greyback fell and died from a final blast by Hermione Granger.
Lavender had vowed to never let her forget it. Tea together wasn't as often as Lavender would have liked, but often enough.
After the battle, she had been shocked upon waking up in the hospital wing of Hogwarts. She remembered waking up too quickly to a pounding headache and the smell of death. But it was quiet, and dark, and no one reacted to her as she gasped for breath and clutched the sheets beneath her in a panic. She gulped back air as her eyes searched for nothing in the darkness, but soon her eyes adjusted and she recognized where she was. She lay back on the pillows with a deep, shaky breath. She couldn't open her right eye, and when she brought her hand up to rub the sleep out of it to clear it, her hand had met a thick bandage that spanned over the top and right side of her head. Her breathing sped up again and she shut her left eye tightly. No.
"Lavender?" A quiet voice called out from the other side of the infirmary. From behind her unbandaged eye, a flash of light sparked before being gently dimmed. She heard the light footsteps of bare feet across the stone floor as the owner of the voice approached her. If she had been thinking clearly, she would have heard the irregular gait in the footfalls. As it was, she could only focus on the soft and painful pressure from her hand pressing into her empty right eye socket. Big, fat tears appeared from her left eye, and she began to sob.
"Lavender, shush," the voice continued, but not unkindly, "it's alright." Hands grabbed hers and pulled them away from her face. She hadn't realized that she had begun to claw at herself. She opened her remaining eye, and through her tears made out the face of Neville Longbottom.
Neville had grown up these past months in hiding, they all did, but he still looked like a boy at this time of night. The soft light emitted from his wand, and then covered by his hand, cast a calming blue light on his features. He looked younger, and healthier, than she knew he was. But she didn't see any dried blood, and that was new. He had gone underground quite quickly in the school year. Ginny Weasley had disappeared later, around Easter. They had all thought, and hoped, she escaped with her family as they too went into hiding. But Ginny had appeared in the 7th year girl's Gryffindor dorms a few weeks later in the dead of night, begging for their help. Lavender and Parvati had gathered the 6th year up in their arms before she could go into much detail. The older girls had never been close to the younger witch, especially after the disastrous fling Lavender had had with her brother, but her disappearance had shocked them all. Luna Lovegood had dramatically been snatched off the train during Christmas, but Ginny had sadly reported that Luna was not with her and Neville. It wasn't a secret that Luna and Ginny were close, and Lavender couldn't help but squeeze Parvati's hand in the following silence.
The girl's attempted to change the mood by night recounting how Ginny's disappearance had drove the Carrows mad, much to most of the school's glee. The Carrows began claiming that bodies had been found deep in the secret and forbidden caverns of the school, but refused to release the victims names. Lavender had stopped taking the twins seriously after the phrase "ginger corpses, friends of Enemy Number One" continued to be dropped during dinner time. After a straight week of Weasley corpses, most of the school began to catch on- there were only so many of them, after all. But Headmaster Snape did nothing to correct them, and stayed otherwise silent on the matter of the shrinking student population. Lavender would learn later that Death Eaters had been sent to the school to scour the school grounds and forbidden forest for Ginny and Neville, but had no luck in locating Harry Potter's friends still on the lamb. The Gryffindor 5th-7th years, who had begun a tradition of discussing the war late into the night most days, had decided to risk a short note to Augusta Longbottom and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley with the news of their grandson's and daughter's disappearance. Soon after Easter Holiday, the first wave of Snatchers appeared at the school.
As the Death Eaters and hired wizard mercenaries prodded the student body for information, the group of Gryffindors that met nightly grew in size to include the 3rd and 4th years. And a good thing too, as one of the 14 year olds had pointed out that if that Neville and Ginny were still alive, they may be having trouble finding food and water with the extra security. The next day, the group had all stuffed too many bread rolls and fruits into their pockets at breakfast. They began to leave them in random, "accidental" places around the castle. They did not have to wait long for the food to have vanished away overnight. Seamus had grumbled that night during the group discussion that it was just the House Elves cleaning up after them, but most of the rest of the group shouted him down. That idea was too cruel to think about when the alternative was that they had hopefully helped their missing friends.
So to have Ginny in the safety of the dorms once again was as if they had been visited by a ghost. No one spoke as they held each other. Comfort during that year of Hogwarts was hard to come by, and the three girls stood there for a short while just enjoying being so close. Lavender and Parvati had been insisting that Nevile and Ginny were still alive, as had others in the group, but no one could be certain. This was validation that was more than welcomed. Here Ginny was, very much alive. They had talked more that night than in all their years at Hogwarts together. Ginny recounted how the fugitive students had been faring so far, and the update was grim. They had managed to hide many a halfblood student, but they were running out of time. The Carrows had been cracking down; the punishments were becoming worse and worse. All three feared what would await the students with questionable blood status once summer holidays arrived… if they even made it that long.
In the very early morning of the next day, Ginny began to outline her and Neville's plans to extricate more of the student body. She begged the older girls to stay longer under the power of the Headmaster, to help them stall and ferry the children to safety. And they did, until they couldn't.
They stays became even longer for those thrown in the dungeons. The infractions ranged from not knowing a question in class to having a suspected mud-blooded parent. Those that were released, mostly due to overcrowding by the Muggle-born students already imprisoned there, were allowed to work on the grounds in and around the castle in service to His Dark Lord. Around this same time, Ginny and Neville's plan was enacted, and more and more students were disappeared into the Hidden Room. The Carrows doubled down as Snape's continence grew darker and crueler. Dementor's once again appeared at the school.
As promised, Lavender and Parvati stayed behind. One day, two months or so after Ginny's appearance in their dorm, around ½ of the Gryffindor House had been spirited away. For those that remained, the mood was grim. No one would be allowed to return home for the summer holidays. The Dark Lord had commanded school continue through the summer, to help with the transition to the new world order.
Amycus began paying special attention to Lavender in late May. She was frightfully aware of the rumors of a great- something great grandmother being a muggle- in fact, it had been told to her as a fairy-tale growing up. It was also told to the local muggle children in the little english hamlet where she grew up, which had turned into a bigger issue than expected. Snatchers had visited the school that morning, her name on a list to interview. She would have been gone by that night, but it was already too late. The Carrows had decided to throw her in the dungeons before tea time.
She was released from the dungeons, briefly, on the 13th night of her imprisonment. She would be expelled at the end of the school year, where she then expected the plan was to be arrested with the rest of her family as her neighborhood was forced to watch. Snape had ordered it, preferring to make room for more active troublemakers. Lavender would most likely be sent off for manual labor the next day, especially as she was one of the older and able bodied students. Lavender could hardly imagine it, especially as she already felt properly punished. She had been allowed to sleep off her injuries for at least a day, but had been told to expect to work in the morning. Thankfully, Neville had arrived to rescue her in the girl's dorm that very night.
Neville had appeared from the shadows after her candle had naturally snuffed out. It was late, but even through her tears Lavender knew something had changed in the cold castle dormitory. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him. He strode directly to her, and without a word, he was easily able to lift her from her bed. She had lost so much weight, she had thought then, in a moment of inappropriate clarity. She refused to think more on how much, especially now that her body was in so much pain from the Carrow's treatment of her. Her figure should be the last thing on her mind. Neville holding her so close made her more self conscious than she had been since her release earlier that day. She had thought the walk from the dungeons to Gryffindor tower was exhausting enough. Neville was still Neville, of course, and he stumbled a bit as he lifted her. The sudden and unexpected movement caused the more painful of her injuries to pull her back to that moment. She knew her left wrist was probably broken, but the bruising on most of her body felt much worse. The cruciatus curse wasn't the worst spell they had used on the student prisoners in the depths of the castle.
Wincing apologetically down at her, Neville had then turned away from her bed as Pavarti moved forward to create a Lavender dummy out of pillows under her comforter. She would be reported as "missing" in the morning, and an investigation would be launched. Pavarti was a Pureblood, and would be safe for a short while longer, to continue to help ferry others. She had been the one who had begged Neville to come get Lavender earlier than planned. Parvati wasn't sure if Lavender had until the morning, let alone Summer Holiday and forced labor.
A House Elf smiled brightly at her as Neville finished turning away from her bed. She was so tired that she rested her head on his chest easily and without shame. House Elves still worked at the school, but had been banned from interacting with students directly since late that past Fall. She had a moment of clarity through her pain in that moment, and smiled back at the creature before turning a beaming gaze to Neville.
The full moon shone brightly in from the window, illuminating most of his face. His curly hair looked more Beatles than schoolboy nowadays, and the baby fat had long since melted away from the long days in the Greenhouses those past, more usual years. Malnutrition from his more recent time in hiding had caused his cheekbones to jut out more than they normally would, but at this time of night it reminded Lavender of a male Veela. He was the most handsome thing she had ever seen, and he was her hero.
The house elf reached out to her then, and as his small hand grabbed hold of her elbow, she and Neville disappeared in a swirl of his elvish magic directly to the Room of Requirement Loud white noise greeted her, which she soon recognized as loud conversation. She opened her eyes after finding them shut- she hadn't realized she had closed them during the side apparition. She was greeted by the living quarters of the current Hogwarts Chapter of Dumbledore's Army. Cots and hammocks of various house colors hung throughout the cavernous space. A large fired roared at the end of the hall, emitting a warm heat and glow. Wanted posters of The Golden Trio and their friends hung on the stone pillars that supported the ceilings, the price on their heads ripped off or scribbled over. Neville was handsome, but this was beautiful.
Neville had squeezed her tightly but didn't say another word as he carried her to the fire. There were a few tables and chairs surrounding the hearth, but it was early enough that most of the fugitive students were still asleep. Ginny was already there, tea prepared, and they let her cry there until just before dinnertime.
happy times. Neville had been raised by his Grandmother, Lavender knew, but she hadn't realized how that had made Neville so different from the other boys in her year. He wasn't ashamed to admit, and avidly discuss, a long running wizard radio serial drama that he and his grandmother enjoyed together. Ginny discouraged it, she knew, grimacing as Neville lingered by her side those first few nights. In the following days, the rest of the suspected Gryffindor mud-bloods followed Lavender to The Hidden Place. For a time, Lavender and the others had fun sneaking through the halls and causing trouble. It was hard for her to remember those days as happy, however, as it was only a week after Lavender arrived that a certain Hannah Abbott showed up. As bitterly as she would later think about it, Hannah had stolen Neville's attention away from her quite immediately after her arrival. She may have been a bit more plain than Lavender, but she was kind, thoughtful… blonde.
He had doted on Lavender those first few days, forcing medicine on her and staying with her until she fell asleep. He asked her questions about her time in the dungeons and who else was locked away with her, but they also fantasized about more But the attention, as it always did, made her heart soar and distracted her. It was an old trick that she didn't mind using on Neville- she wasn't sorry for exchanging smiles with him over dinner or letting her fingers brush his as they handed out dinner each night. It made them both happy, and this was war, for Merlin's sake. They could both be dead tomorrow. And besides, Ginny's huffing and puffing hadn't been the worst side effect from her attentions. She had started to develop a little crush a few days in, but unfortunately for Lavender, it was after Hannah had arrived that she realized she might have been in love with him. At least, when Hannah did arrive, she was feeling well enough to hobble away and escape the hearth and their canoodling.
Hannah wasn't awful, but in Lavender's estimation, she was much more annoying then herself. Ginny had even begun to flee from the space by the fire to sit with Lavender on her cot each night, to avoid Hannah and her overdone fantasies about cakes and pies. Only Neville seemed to enjoy the rants, and neither was willing or able to see how annoyed it made almost everyone else. Hannah had begun to help the rebel House Elves prepare dinner each night after her arrival, and Neville lingered by her as she worked. Lavender couldn't believe how jealous she felt about Neville Longbottom, of all people. If only she could speak about it with Parvati, she was sure her friend would knock some sense into her. It was teenage hormones, and Neville was just… around, was all. She should continue to ignore him. In hindsight, she knew it was very 17-years-old of her, but in that moment it had made her feel a bit better.
She thought he had enjoyed their conversations then, talking of jailbreaks and escape scenarios, of subterfuge of the professors during the long months he and Ginny had been in hiding. Neville had been proud of her, she could feel it. And sometimes, they made each other laugh. They hadn't spoken much before the war, but now that they had, Lavender enjoyed his company. She couldn't see how she had missed him grow from rotund tween to a lanky but strong young adult. Ginny wasn't a morning person, and Lavender had started to wake up earlier than normal to catch Neville alone. She knew he wasn't sleeping much, but had yet to admit it to her. In those moments together, Lavender had teased Neville Longbottom, and he had teased her back. They became friends. And with that, for Lavender, came guilt.
Lavender Brown had not been a very nice little girl, and she had most definitely not been a very nice teenager- at least, not at first. She had been forced to grow up quickly, they all did, but with the change in situation also came a change in priorities. Her behavior before the war, at school, seemed so silly and childish. She still had nightmares about baiting Hermione about Ron. One morning while it was Neville's turn to cook breakfast, a memory floated unexplained through her mind, as memories sometimes do. She had been a bit too pleased to notice Neville's eyes dart to the top of her torn shirt as she had been pouring water into the kettle. She had developed a bit of a crush she had realized, and besides that, she wasn't one to hide herself modestly even before the war. The moment also reminded her of the time when she had caught Neville staring at her breasts way back in second year. That time, however, she had yelled at him in the Common Room in front of most of their year. She had felt horrid about it after - it wasn't as if the other boys weren't taking peeks too.
So that morning, and she still would never be sure why, she had blurted out a rushed apology to him. She would never forget the way his eyes had shined back at her, blinking slowly. He didn't say anything at first. She knew she didn't really deserve forgiveness, she knew how teased Neville was in their early years, and she had certainly not helped. It was so many years ago, but in that very moment, Lavender had felt better. Neville did not forgive as quickly, it seemed. He continued to stare, and not speak. When the kettle went off, Neville broke their eye contact first to take care of it. Lavender told herself she left the hearth then to give him some more time to forgive her properly, but in the following years she cringed and knew she had probably blown it that night. First with the unthoughtful apology, and then again with the disappearing act. In any case, Hannah had shown up that very morning, and that was that. Neville and Lavender never had another moment alone to speak again until The Batte, so she was never sure.
Hannah was kind to Neville- Lavender suspected she never shut up in his presence, actually. She imagined Hannah could compliment someone's kneecap if she put her mind to it. But Lavender didn't fight Neville's sudden divided attentions. Hannah didn't seem to mind her absence from the hearth, either. A few weeks later, Lavender had spotted Hannah and Neville holding hands after breakfast. So, in response, Lavender had pretended to be sick and stayed in bed till noon. Ginny, to her credit, never commented on Lavender's mood that day or sudden change in routine. She preferred sitting on Lavender's cot in the early morning than by the hearth, where Hannah would babble about everything and nothing for hours on end. Ginny and Lavender entered into an easy friendship after that, even if they only had Gryffindor House and long hair care in common. For the first time in her life, Lavender began to understand the value of easy and companionable silence.
While she was willing to admit she was lonely, she was beginning to expect she may be heartbroken as well. Neville's absence hit her unexpectedly, and it echoed in the empty hours they students spent cooped up in The Room of Requirement. Even if Neville did smile at her from across the table during meals, she would pretend to not notice him. It was childish to ignore him, and she knew it even back then. She only spoke to him when he spoke to her, which wasn't often. Even then, she would try not to stare into his beautiful moss colored eyes, but a spot just above the bridge of his nose.
And then, when the time came, she and the others hiding in the room fought alongside Harry Potter during the Great Battle. She fell from a balcony inside the castle, and was then almost mauled to death by Fenir Greyback. And when Neville had appeared in front of her that next night in the hospital wing, after she had awoken in the dark, she had reacted poorly.
She thought about that night in the infirmary often.
Neville began to soothe her after he had settled at her bedside, his rough hands rubbing hers together between his own. She stared at him, but couldn't focus on his face, especially with the new sensation of missing something she was supposed to have.
"Neville," she whispered, tears forming in her remaining eye, "My face."
He frowned at her, and squeezed her hands, "Lavender. You're okay. You're alive."
She breathed in, but had trouble with the bandage obstructing her nose. It dawned on her that it wasn't just her eyesight that might have been affected by the fall from the balcony and mauling. And Fenir was a…
Lavender gasped and pulled her hands away from Neville. She began tearing at her bandages. It only took Neville a short moment to grab her wrists and stop her from doing much damage. She resorted to shrieking.
"Let me see!" She wailed, tears returning to her eyes, sobs wracking her body, "Let me see!"
She had tried to push Neville away, but he held fast to her wrists. In no time, Madame Pomfrey had rushed over to subdue her. Of course by that point she had wakened half the ward. She lost sight of Neville as she screamed and screamed before the Matron was able to force a potion down her throat. When she woke up again the next morning, Neville's bed was empty.
Still embarrassed, she didn't approach him at the formal memorial the following week, avoiding his gaze from across the Hogwarts lawn. She had lost an eye, but he was right, she was alive. How could she explain such a reaction? It wasn't her face, not exactly- it was everything. She knew she was so lucky, when so many others were not. And besides, Hannah Abbott stood next to him, their shoulders touching. He deserved to be happy, and he looked like he was- well, as much as one does during funerals. Lavender had told Parvati they would be engaged within the year, which her friend had scoffed at more in support of Lavender's true feelings than reality. And then, one day, Lavender's prediction came true- Neville Longbottom proposed marriage to Hannah Abbot almost exactly six months later.
Lavender Brown was many things, and she had been accused of much more, but she would never dare get in the middle of anyone's marriage. She made herself think of other, more available men from then on. And for many years, around seven to be exact, that had suited her just fine. She was able to return to Hogwarts for an abbreviated 8th year, studied abroad in Turkey, gotten a certificate of magical sleuthing, met many international men, and had just this week taken up a position as a junior private investigator at a London law and mediation firm that specializes in Wizardly Pre and Post Divorce Services. The job had originally called for her to do some light research, but she had quickly learned that it also meant the night shift during surveillance. She had overheard one day in the elevator about Neville and Hannah's paperwork being tied up by some legalese back at the head office. The next morning, she spied his name on a sleek folder in the courier bin. She told herself she peaked due to her recent training that was still fresh on her mind, that she couldn't help following up on such clues, but it was also due to her naturally... curious nature. She had offered the receptionist to bring the paperwork to Neville herself. Hogwarts was just down the way from Hogsmeade and her next assignment, and besides, he was an old friend.
Many of her peers had gotten married quickly after the war. Lavender didn't feel as if this was necessarily a bad thing, but now, well, business was especially good these days. Lavender's boss, the head of her firm, liked to call it the "seven year itch." And low and behold, not seven years after the war, business was booming. First, Harry and Ginny Potter. Then Ron, Hermione, two of the other Weasley brothers. And those were just the mildly famous ones.
And now, Neville Longbottom and Hannah Abbott.
Which brought her to this very moment in front of Neville's classroom and greenhouse on the Hogwart's grounds. She couldn't stop the grin from spreading across her face. Then, she remembered her newfound personna, the scary PI hiding more than just a pretty face behind her felt hat. She adjusted her dark glasses and straightened out her spine, and then she opened the door before she could think twice about it.
She couldn't help but cough a bit, it was so humid, and she was forced to use the folder she had been holding under her arm as a fan to wave some of the steamy air away from her face. She had planned on a more dramatic entrance. The effect of her outfit was completely ruined she was sure. But through her tears, she realized Neville wasn't there. Before she could catch her breath, unfortunately, the noise of her inelegant entrance did grab the young Professor's attention.
"Hullo?" came a voice from the back of the glass house. She tried to compose herself, which of course made her coughing worse. Neville appeared suddenly from behind a large potted palm, a concerned look on his face. If he was surprised to see her, especially after a few years, he didn't show it. He took her elbow and guided her to one of the short wooden benches that lined the walls for the students' use. Neville wasn't wearing a wizard robe, as he had clearly just been working. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, and dirt coated most of his toned forearms. He was wearing blue jeans, of all things, and big heavy work boots. He would have looked like a farmer if not for the heavy, dragonhide apron he wore tied twice around his waist. His wand poked out of the apron's pocket on one side, a spade on the other.
He looked like a Professor of Herbology, and a man that worked with his hands. She suddenly felt out of place there, too much. Why did she have to show up with the new lipstick, again? She had wanted to be intimidating, yes. She was a borderline she-wolf, a femme fatale Private Eye. But this was Neville, and this was the first time she had been alone with him in years. But he continued to look at her with an encouraging gaze, as if nothing had changed, and she felt her heart break all over again.
She couldn't help but forget about her intended persona, and a genuine smile broke through at his appearance. He may not have looked like a Professor, or the old Neville, but he looked… at home. She couldn't recall seeing him this at ease. The effect was slightly ruined after he gallantly summoned a muddy kerchief from a nearby workbench. He wasn't able to change course after offering it to her, and his concerned look turned into a horrified cringe. She snatched it from him before he could pull it back, surely staining her gloves. But she was so thankful to him, for him, he wouldn't ever know...
He gave her the time to catch her breath.
She cleared her throat. Now was the time to be professional. She could have fun and flirt later.
"Mr. Longbottom," She offered a smaller, more contained smiled this time. "How are you?"
"...Lavender?" He asked, almost unsure. He leaned back for a moment, to take her in. Lavender was staring right back at him, so she didn't mind. Maybe the lipstick was a good choice.
After a few heavy seconds, Neville seemingly couldn't take it anymore. He he blurted out, "But you look great!" And then he went beet red. Maybe he wasn't as grown as she thought. That wasn't a bad thing.
This was the sort of reaction she expected from Neville, but it didn't please her as she thought it would. She suddenly felt very out of control- she wanted to feel proudly satisfied by his reaction, not hopeful and warm. She changed tactics and made herself blink and look at a point between his eyes instead of his blushing face.
"Yes. Neville I- excuse me. I haven't been in a Greenhouse since school," She offered, a weak excuse, even to her ears. He smiled at her, ignoring her stuttering words.
"I'm doing a work study on magical plants of the Amazon next semester. Harry suggested a muggle humidifier- it's this machine that adds water to the air, it's in the storage room now- you know, to replicate the environment. And it's working!" Neville smiled at her, looking around his life's work. She took the quick moment to study him instead. He had filled out more, the baby fat having melted from his face long ago. He had grown even more after the war, and his constant time in and around the Hogwarts' grounds had filled his frame out. He would never be a big, daunting man, but he looked strong and well-worked. Sturdy, of the earth.
Not like the men Lavender usually pursued. But sitting next to him, looking at his wide and bright moss colored eyes, she felt herself blush. Maybe not like her usual fare, no. But he was somehow handsomer than she remembered, even if he was still as awkward as ever.
That thought made her wake up a bit, and she remembered why she was there. It wasn't to stare at unassuming former classmates, that was for sure. She had a task at hand, and she refused to allow Neville to distract her! Even if he had grown well.
She pulled the sleek folder from her bag and quickly handed it to him. He let go of her elbow then and took it, gently, avoiding her fingers. She pretended not to notice (she didn't want to admit she had forgotten he had been holding onto her that whole time) and replaced her hands in her lap.
He opened it and took a few minutes reading over the contents, but his face became more puzzled as time went on.
"You didn't sign," she finally pointed out to him. She took the liberty to lean forward over his hands, her pointed finger invading his space to point at a spot at the bottom of the current page. His gaze snapped to hers and she snatched her hand back, a guilty look on her face.
"What?" he asked, more to himself than to her. She answered anyway.
"You didn't sign," she repeated, more firmly this time, "Your divorce will not be considered decree absolute until you sign the following court order, renouncing your legal stake in The Leaky Cauldron."
"I have a legal stake in The Leaky Cauldron?" He repeated, his mouth going slack jawed for a second. Lavender couldn't help it and let an inpatient noise escape from her nose. She really didn't want to be talking about Hannah Abbott and her world-renowned business.
"Yes, of course, Neville. That's why it was in the original paperwork in the first place. Didn't you wonder why, when you read it over?" The tone she had ended with sounded so reminiscent to a meaner tone from her childhood, and she regretted it as soon as the words escaped her mouth. She bit her tongue to help keep from squirming. Neville blushed at the passive aggressive accusation.
"I didn't exactly… read it. Hermione did. Must have missed a page." Neville knew the answer wasn't great, and she could tell he dreaded her reaction. She didn't disappoint.
"Neville, really?" She groaned, her shoulders loosening a bit in the action. "It's your divorce paperwork, you still need to take a quick spin through it, at least! Hermione is only responsible for her own divorce, not yours too."
She saw his posture then, and it was her turn to frown. She reminded herself to be kinder, as she still sometimes had to do from time to time.
"She bought it after you were married, therefore, it is considered marital property," she said, trying out a softer tone of voice. She returned her gaze to the bridge of his nose. She was blowing it all over again. "But not a problem, this happens all the time. Really. You can sign it now. That's why I'm here."
It certainly wasn't to see him.
"She used her own money- it was always her place." He said, firmer than she would have expected. He stood up, taking the folder with him. She stayed on the bench, watching.
Neville paced that small section of Greenhouse for a few moments. Lavender took the time to familiarize herself with the place, trying to give him some privacy. It was true that she hadn't been in the Greenhouses in awhile. She had decided against taking her N.E.W.T.S in Herbology, finding Charms, Transfiguration, Arithmancy and Divination much more tolerable. For her 8th year at Hogwarts, the year so many returned to finish a proper year of school after the war, she had added in Defense Against The Dark Arts.
And so, she hadn't been in the Greenhouses themselves for many years. Neville had kept it mostly the same as the current Professor, but the place looked and felt less like an English witch cottage garden than it had in year's past. Less broken pottery and baby mandrakes. As Neville had remarked earlier, this section of the greenhouse was absolutely flush with tropical plants. They were currently towards the back of the greenhouse, in the area in front of Professor Sprout's old private shed, which she now assumed was probably Neville's office.
Neville also had more maps and diagrams hanging from the shed's walls than Professor Sprout ever did, and while it felt more academic, it didn't feel more cold. Magical moving photos were thumbtacked to a board next to the shed door, filled with memories of past expeditions with students. In another section, pictures of burly men with too much gear oddly stayed motionless, and she was too far away to see any faces.
"Do you have a quill?" He asked her, jerking her out of her thoughts. But he wasn't looking at her, he was looking down at the thick stack of papers and the blank spot missing his name. He looked more determined than before.
She nodded and went to pull one from her bag, "It's inkless, you may need a flat surface for it to work properly."
He took it from her outstretched hand, and then surprised her when he dropped to his knees next to her. He made sure the bottom of the parchment was in line with the work bench as he began to do the customary three shake of the inkless pen to get it flowing. The work tables were full and covered with a fine spray of dirt, but Lavender had assumed he would take the papers back to his office or clear off a space on the higher tables instead. He quickly signed it, about 6 inches from her bent knees. He didn't hesitate to sign his name on the last page of his Divorce Decree.
He let the pen fall to the bench and stood up quickly. He backed away and turned away from her then, hands running through his messy hair. She took the hint and slid the paperwork back into it's folder and out of site once again in her bag. She stood up when he didn't turn around or speak. She smoothed her skirt down her front and adjusted her work bag over her shoulder, giving him a private moment. When he still didn't speak, she nodded to herself before standing and turning to leave.
She felt awkward then, too. She had wanted to cause him to be a bit unsettled, but she had been too selfish. The man was getting divorced, and she had arrived in a hot red lip and well-tailored robes with slightly nefarious intentions. He was clearly struggling. And it was still Neville, not just a young boy who chose wrong. Not a lover to be jilted, but Neville Longbottom.
"Wait, Lavender."
She stopped, as asked, and so did her heart. Later, she would realize that this was one of the first times she had ever taken such direction from a man. She forgot herself for a moment, so surprised she was that she had actually stopped, Neville or not. 'Maybe I didn't waste the outfit after all…' she thought.
She took a moment to turn, quite dramatically, back to look at him. She let her witch robes swirl around her legs, and made sure to stop so that her body was angled slightly towards him. She had practiced many times before in her mirror at home, so she knew she had a pretty good chance at hitting the timing perfectly. She wanted to take his breath away as he had hers.
She wished she hadn't turned around. Something had changed. Instead of a dumb-founded look, he was smiling broadly at her. Her heart pounded in her chest.
"Why are you here?" He blurted out, shattering the moment. Lavender bit the inside of her lip to keep the frown off of her face.
"I mean," he stepped towards her, "Why did you come? I didn't know you did this sort of…"
She was quick to cut off his mumblings to help them both out, "I don't, usually. But all the runners were busy this afternoon, and I saw your name on the courier list and I couldn't help but offer-" she snapped her mouth shut, she was over-explaining herself. She reminded herself she wanted to act cool in front of Neville, to make him realize what he had missed out on. "I'm a Private Eye, actually. It's my job to notice things."
'Ughhhhh what! Nooooo…' She forced herself to remain calm. How idiotic must Neville think of her now? "'It's my job to notice things.'" Woof! She chanced a glance at him, and was surprised to see that he was looking right back at her, a big, goofy smile on his face. It took her breath away.
"Private Eye, you say?" He asked, stepping closer to her. She nodded, peering back at him.
"Yes." she answered, curtly. His smile made her wonder if he was now the one teasing her. She suddenly felt very exposed under his happy stare. She fought the urge to adjust her hat over her injured eye.
"I'm working for the mediation firm you hired during your divorce proceedings. I just started on Monday, but I haven't been assigned to a case yet. I don't usually courier paperwork but you were on the way, so..." she blushed and slapped her mouth shut after her rush of words. She was still very new to the role. Neville had been a Professor at Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry for four, almost five years already. He hadn't been the youngest, at 20, but he had been close. She suddenly felt very inexperienced and boastful in front of him. She hadn't given the receptionist a moment to say no when she said she would personally take care of the assignment. She was still supposed to be in orientation, truth be told, and was sure her first year would be filled with mostly boring research in dusty libraries and archives. She felt her face grow hot. Maybe she had been exaggerating. She had gotten her official graduation certificate, sure, but she hadn't even been assigned any clients yet. What was the matter with her? She was embarrassing herself again.
Neville grinned at her and stepped closer again. "It's nice to see you. Thank you for… taking the time out of your busy day." It wasn't said in jest- he didn't take his eyes off her face, and neither moved. She felt unnerved. This wasn't how she felt when fellow London commuters caught the edge of her injury under her hat, and then pretending not to have noticed. This was a very different kind of uncomfortable, watched feeling, and Lavender wasn't sure she liked it.
She finally made herself give him a tight grin and nodded, turning once again to leave. She felt defeated in a way she had never felt before. She was the one usually wrapping men around her finger, and Neville Longbottom, she still couldn't believe it, made her act as if she was once again twelve years old and trying to speak to Oliver Wood in the Dining Hall. What a waste of time this had been. She was going to put the outfit, and the lipstick, in the back of her closet the minute she got home. She had made Neville blush, sure, but he had made her blush, too.
She wasn't used to men like him. And he hadn't chosen her, after all.
"Lavender," he said, more firmly this time, "Stay for tea. Please. I want to hear more about it."
Maybe she could choose him, though.
A/N: I used to write fanfiction in the years before the 7th book had arrived, when anything was still possible in terms of an ending. This story was written as if that was still the case, in some ways. Over the years, that specific space of time in the Harry Potter fandom has blended with the headcanon of today. I hope I didn't jump around too much. What better place to play with that than in fanfiction though, right? I hope you understand and enjoy the liberties I have taken.
In that vein, I think the biggest change I did was to have Ginny go into hiding at Hogwarts with Neville, instead of going into hiding with her family. I thought the idea of Neville and Ginny finding strong friendship and camaraderie while in hiding really appealing as I imagined the ending many years ago, and I had honestly forgotten that is how it happened in the books before looking it up myself.
Otherwise, we follow most of canon (for a short while, at least). The Battle exists as it stands… mostly... in the books. Lavender falls and is bitten by Fenir Greyback. Neville marries Hannah Abbot later that same year, and becomes Professor of Herbology. I'm having a bit of wild fun not knowing all the details yet. I'm going to allow this Lavender to tell me.
Lavender Brown's thoughts and experiences are solely her own, and sometimes her opinions are not always nice. I always imagined her as always wanting to do the right thing in the end, but sometimes is distracted by shiny objects in her way. I am aiming for something warmer and more character driven with my story instead of the vapid, air-headed and awful girl that she is sometimes portrayed as.
I used to RP as Lavender on Livejournal, back ~in the day~ and I had fun inhabiting her character again. Some of those memories and storylines have inevitably bled into my head canon. This Lavender Brown is how I always liked to imagine her as.
Let me know if something doesn't make sense - I'm getting my feet wet again in the world of fanfiction and want to get better. I did sort of do the "wrong thing" and write this in about a day and edit it lightly. But just as Lavender has learned to enjoy things for herself, so should I.