A/N: Just a one shot I wrote to prove to my girlfriend you can make any character readable in fanfiction.

Prompt

Lavender Brown resembles her name. Her hair is brown and smells of lavender. Cho Chang is fascinated with brown hair, as its different than her own boring black hair, and happens to adore the smell of lavender.

You Are Pretty Lavender Brown

Lavender liked witches.

She liked the elegance of them; the way they floated about in long flowing robes that followed the waist just so and tumbled about well turned ankles. She liked the magic that a witch commanded, oh not simply the wand waving kind although that too, but better yet a witch was made to draw the eye, to impress onlookers to desire, be it desire the attention of, the desire to imitate, or the desire of her flesh. She liked the beauty of witches. The lines of them, like well bred granians, were an ascetic that delighted some place in the core of her that she thought was pride. She liked the perfumery, and facepaint, and fabric a witch turned her attention towards all in aid of enhancing the elegance and magic while the magic and elegance enhanced the beauty and the elegance and beauty enhanced the magic.

Lavender liked wizards. She liked that they agreed with her on her opinion of witches. The wizards she gave her time to did only confirm her already solid conclusion. Which was thus: the consideration of witches should weigh heavier than the consideration of wizards.

And so when her eyes began to follow witches more oft than wizards when hormones began to make themselves known Lavender accepted it as only natural, after all spells nearly made wizards obsolete in the reproduction department anyway. And when her eyes began to follow one Cho Chang in particular she accepted that too. Cho Chang, perfection in ascetic and intellect, was decidedly deserving of enthusiastic consideration.

But regretfully Cho did not seem of the same opinion and her eyes followed a wizard or two instead of logically looking elsewhere. Lavender highly valued Cho's opinion and so began to question her own ascetic appeal. The opinion of her friends was nothing but utterances of sycophantic flattery and could not be trusted. Her mirror revealed exactly what she knew before looking into it with introspection. Doe brown hair framed a common English complexion highlighting the large fawn eyes and soft pink lips. The addition of a petite well turned figure, a proud bosom set upon an eighteen inch waist, all combined to lovely appeal. At least ascetically. she was not the strongest witch in her year but also not pathetic. Her grades were good in the classes that counted. And while she acknowledged her personality was a bit grating and shallow she thought her sense of honor, honesty, and charming humor made up the difference.

And yet the self doubt began to creep in, as happens to those suffering unrequited desire, and Lavender began to consider making changes. Magic, the wand waving kind this time, offered endless option in cosmetic rearrangement. From color to structure, everything was possible. The only question remained, which changes to pursue?

Lavender was smart enough to acknowledge she needed a second opinion, preferably from someone who agreed with her. That meant Granger, the likely choice given her intellect, was discarded as an option. If Lavender went to her she was bound to be lectured on any number of subjects that would irritate as well as bore her. Plus there was the rumor that muggles had odd prejudices which cropped up when confronted with the abnormal. Lavender was not in the proper state of mind to be considered abnormal.

Potter would have to be discarded too then, after all he'd been raised by muggles, and was bound to have their prejudices. Plus there was the pesky detail of his past acquaintance with the subject in question. And finally of that popular trio Ronald Weasley was the last person she'd ask such a delicate question.

She could consider going for advice outside her house but Lavender disliked the idea. She wanted a Gryffindor's honest, brash, even grandiose advice. It was the kind of advice she was willing to actually take. Other houses would lead with a different approach, one less appealing and doubtfully something she could pull off.

A part of her was still leaning towards Potter. Despite the muggle upbringing and his having dated Cho he seemed the ideal candidate. He was sweet, lovely in manner unless upset by outrageous occurrence, and a boy. Boys, wizards that is, were forever agreeing with her on the subject of witches. This one even once shared her opinion on the very same witch.

That last fact decided her and immediately Lavender excused herself to find him. She wasn't the sort of witch to wait around after a decision was made. It was rather common knowledge that if Harry Potter was anywhere it was the library. The collective student body knew this although those outside Gryffindor all assumed it had to do with the war while those in their house knew it was Granger's fault. Being friends with Granger meant free time was spent as study time. Lavender wouldn't have been her friend for all the gold in Gringotts. Regardless it was pleasant to know where to find a hero when you need one.

Potter wasn't alone, a stack of books to one side of him announced Granger was present somewhere, probably lost in the bowels of the library researching Merlin knew what, and a snoring Weasley drooling over an open Quidditch book left all present and accounted for. Baring teeth in satisfaction Lavender sat down in front of Potter and giggled when he jumped, startled.

"Potter." Lavender began with his surname to show this was business and not pleasure, although she doubted he'd get the nuance, muggle upbringing and all. "Do you find me aesthetically appealing?"

For a long minute Potter just gaped at her. Then, "Aesthetically...what?"

Lavender frowned at his pretense to ignorance and suppressed a giggle. Now was not the time for nerves. Brave face and all that.

"Harry Potter." she almost scolded. "Do you find me beautiful?"

His eyes took on an almost wild look, like a frighted witch's crup, and slid away from hers to look almost anywhere else. That is until they settled on Weasley's drool. He winced and brought them back to hers.

"Erm, why do you ask, um, Lavender?"

Lavender rolled her eyes. "Ugh, boys" She uttered and surprisingly he relaxed at that, probably because she sounded just like Granger for a second. "It's not because I've suddenly taken a fancy to you, Harry." She informed him.

She almost didn't have to utter that assurance as he'd lost the wild look, but it did lead up to her explanation. It did seem to help even more though. He released enough of a relieved sigh to almost insult her.

"Right, Lavender, of course." He forced a natural smile and Lavender wondered at his social skills. Were they always so terrible? Even if front of the press? No wonder the reporters ate him alive. "So, uh, what is it about?"

Lavender shook off her musings and deliberated on her phrasing for all of a minute before she got bored.

"I thought you might be able to tell me if I'm not pretty enough for Cho Chang." Lavender could hear her mother's sigh as if she were there. She forever bemoaned Lavender's bluntness. Gratifyingly Potter choked on his next 'err'.

"Pretty enough..." His voice trailed off and got lost before he finished his sentence. "As in...pretty enough?"

Lavender rolled her eyes again. "Yes, Potter." She snapped losing patience.

Potter just stared at her for another long moment the blinked, shifted, scratching the back of his neck.

"Err, does she swing that way, Lavender?" He finally asked in full sentence the key phrase hushed down to a whisper.

"In what way, Potter!" Her voice was going shrill. Deep breaths, Lavender. Control the nerves. She would force calm into her next utterance.

Potter just blinked at her. "Uh, you know, the gay way?"

Lavender slumped in despair. "I don't know, Harry. I assume she does?"

Potter frowned, "And why'd you assume that?"

Lavender shrugged carelessly. "I don't know. She's asian? Aren't they all into that?" She expected a laugh for that line but Potter surprised her by frowning as if the joke was in poor taste. Lavender sniffed. As if her humor always had to be to everyone's taste but hers.

"Err, Lavender. Did you think to ask her before you worry about the, you know, rest?"

Lavender eyed him like she imagined Snape often did. "If you swung that way would you ask your crush that?" She raised her eyebrow like she'd seen Snape do as well. Gratifyingly Potter blushed.

"I guess not."

"I thought not."

"So about my original question, Harry?"

"Well," Harry eyed her with a studied look, actually taking her in for the first time, she realized, instead of simply looking past her girly bits. She felt herself flush a bit but didn't back down. She'd asked for this after all.

"She does like brown hair." Was all he said after a long while.

Lavender did shriek this time. "Is that all you've got, Harry!" Harry didn't have the chance to respond before her attention caught that. "Wait she does?"

"Yeah, she bemoaned having black straight hair, said it was boring."

Lavender tried to calm the swell of hope threatening to upset her stomach.

"Come to think of it she likes lavender too." He added thoughtfully. "She was always eating these lavender candies"

"She was?"

"Probably still is."

"Oh."

Finally Harry leaned forward and looked seriously at her, green eyes very solemn.

"You are pretty, Lavender Brown."

If she weren't so that way she have fallen for him then, all ernest honesty and a compliment in complete agreement with her. Utterly perfect except for the pesky gender factor.

"Oh, I know." She tossed her hair and got up, scrunching up her nose at Weasley's drool. To think she ever allowed herself to go there. She was aware she was a bitch, shallow, and annoying. But that wasn't all that was there, so she did offer him a genuine smile. "Thanks, Harry."

He smiled and turned to Weasley who was waking up to glare her way. With another toss of her hair she turned away grinning at the conversation that echoed after her down the hall.

"What did she want, Harry?"

"Err...to tell you you got some drool on your face, mate."

"Oh. Bloody hell!"