A/N: I didn't write the HP novels.
Written for astronauts ' Everybody's Got A Dark Side Challenge.
I was supposed to feature the angsty, depressed, or hateful side of my character (Lavender Brown) and I tried for all.
Lavender glared across the Gryffindor table at the back of the fire-red head. "It'll be okay Lav..." Parvarti was crooning, but Lavender was venomous.
Her eyes were bloodshot and there were dark purple bags like bruises under them. Not only from her crying, but from the late night excursions she often took- which only reminded her of Ron in more painful ways.
That was where they snogged. That was... where they snogged.
Her toast was starting to get soggy.
The brown hair was now bushy and frizzy from lack of care. Knots tangled themselves around her face carelessly. She raked them away with her fingers and continued to glare.
Sniffling she wiped her nose on the back of her hand. She'd been wearing the same Muggle sweats under her robes for the entire week since her and Ron broke up. Oh she should've seen the signs, he hadn't even worn the necklace she'd fashioned for him at Christmas!
But no, it was like Parvarti said. It wasn't her fault, it was his. And more than that, Hermione Granger's. She cast a scathing glance at the people sitting closest to Ron, and sure enough there she was. And Harry. She should disassociate herself with all three of them. Yes, of course.
Oh Hermione meddled too much in matters that she need not meddle in. She deserved to get whatever was coming her way.
Lavender felt gross though. Unwanted, sick, and cold. She seemed outcast, out shined. Or like a little sibling, living in a higher shadow. No comfort could be given at such a time. Almost like Christmas had come early, but it was actually April fools day.
She'd cried until no tears were produced but life still moved around her. Oh she'd never felt this bad before. It was like she had her own personal dementor, his scabby hands closing around her heart, every now and then giving an extra painful squeeze.
She was seething on the spot, left to stew in her own accusations. Oh she hated Ronald Weasley. She never wanted to see him again if she could help it. Color had lost its beauty, food had lost its taste.
But then oh, he looked this way. Lavender straightened up in her seat and looked back, level with his eyes. But then as soon as it'd come the moment was gone, he looked away, and all Lavender had accomplished was bending a spoon. And he had Hermione.
Through her mutiny and despair however, she'd managed to marvel at Professor Trelawney's accuracy at predictions. Hadn't she said a red-haired man would cause her harm? But Lav had not heeded the signs, how foolish.
What a wreck she'd become without her Won-Won. She was going to kill Hermione Granger.
A/N: Me trying to understand how the female mind works.