She lay in her bed at ten a.m. on Monday morning. She knew she should get up, get dressed, and look for work- but she just couldn't stomach the thought. As she sat up listlessly, she remembered her weekend.
She knew going to tonight's party would be a bad idea. Her ex was going to be there. He thought little of her, of course, yet she couldn't help the frisson of excitement that juddered its way down her spine.
Casual flirting had led, of course, to them sharing a bed.. And more besides. She revelled in his taking of her, knowing she would pay dearly for it later. But he was with her, in her, right now and that was everything she wanted. She shut her eyes and pretended he loved her.
She kept them shut when he was finished, as he got up and left the room.
As she stood in her shower and felt the water wash over her skin, the memory of his work-roughened hands sliding over her surfaced. How many times had she hoped, prayed, dreamed he would notice her, only to hate herself for it later?
She was going to see him tonight. She spent that little bit longer contouring her cheeks and jawbone, knowing he liked girls with sharper faces than her own. Took extra care in lining her plump cherry lips, knowing he liked nothing better than a whore in red. She took the time to apply huge, thick black lashes to make her look like a fragile porcelain doll.
She knew he found her repulsive without her makeup to improve her looks, and so she never left the house without looking perfect.
Drying herself off, she flicked through her wardrobe to find a good outfit for the day. The thought of seeing him without looking her best sent a shudder down her spine, and she took great care in choosing the clothes he liked her best in – tight, short and colourful. She forced her feet into her uncomfortable, beautiful shoes and walked out the door.
She saw her before she knew who she was – the wonderful girlfriend. With her frizzy brown curls and the fashion sense of a twelve year old boy, all loose clothes and sneakers. She met the girl, and knew instantly why he loved her. Hermione was beautiful when passionate, which seemed to be always. Her smile made her whole face glow. She was effortlessly kind, and lovely, and everything she'd ever tried to be. She hated herself all the more for what she was doing to the innocent woman.
She knew she would never be good enough for his love.
She walked into the Atrium, intent on meeting her friend, Laura, for lunch – and maybe, if she was lucky, seeing a glimpse of him. What she found made her regret ever wishing to see him today.
Right there, in the middle of the room – he was kneeling in front of her.
No. Not now. Not today. Not here. Please God anywhere but right in front of her!
"Hermione Jean Granger, will you marry me?"
Silence. Her hopes lifted. Maybe-
"Of course I will! I love you, Ronald Weasley!"
And with tears trailing down her face, Lavender turned and walked away knowing that her soulmate would never be with her again.