Written in response to Wordsmiths & Betas Friday Drabble Prompt: Cormac McLaggen, Lavender Brown, a four leaf clover, a car, and the engorgio spell. Probably missed the mark with the car but, hey!, I tried. Un-beta so any mistake are all mine and my lowkey disregard for the rules of the English language :)
"Go to the pub, Lavender. Get out the house, Lavender." She muttered angrily, mocking her best friend.
Lavender Brown swirled her third glass of elf wine around and made marks in the wood with her thumb nail. Bloody Parvati begged her to leave the comfortable solitude of her flat and she couldn't even be bothered to show up!
She felt someone sit next to her and could feel the relief surge through her. Finally.
"Hello, Lav."
Oh. No.
"Goodbye, Cormac." She groaned, immediately rummaging through her purse to leave money on the bar. The next time Parvati even mentioned the word pub Lavender was going to suggest she should fling herself in front of a car.
"Oh come on, Love. Having one drink with me won't kill you."
Lavender fell still immediately. Mouth set in a firm line she twisted herself on her stool to face Cormac McLaggen. He was looked the exact same as he had early in the day at the Ministry. All broad shoulders and a crooked cocky smile. She hated him. In the same strange way she hated everyone who didn't wear their scars for the world to see like she was forced to.
The light was low in The Leaky Cauldron and it seemed to do everything in its power to glow on the pale pink ragged lines that ran diagonally from her chin down her chest and onto her shoulder.
"I'm very much aware of what can and can't kill me, thanks."
Cormac tensed, green eyes darting briefly over her aberrations that marked her tan skin and then down to the swell of her breasts. He set his mouth to explain that he knew exactly that. Maybe that's why he's been chasing her the past 6 months.
Just as as he opened his mouth there was suddenly a commotion by the Floo as Harry, Ron, and Hermione all came through. A few began to clamor to speak to them. Three years after the war and they still couldn't catch a break.
Cormac saw that Lavender was looking in the same direction he was. Her face looking especially pinched at the way Hermione had settled peacefully under Ron's arm. She turned back and swallowed the rest of her glass of wine.
"Isn't it enough I have to be smothered under her greatness at work? Does she have be everywhere?" She moaned and then waved down the barkeep for another glass and just asked him to leave the bottle.
"Is that why you won't agree to a bite with me. You...You're still hung up on Weasley?" Cormac tried to keep the contempt out of his voice but knew he failed.
Lavender let a noise somewhere in between a snort and a pitiful laugh.
"God, no. Nothing like that." She said, using her finger to trace the gold four-leaf clover design on the wine bottle. "It's just - Do you believe in luck?"
Cormac paused for a brief moment. "We can literally make our own luck potion. Hard to believe that the universe works in our favor knowing that."
"I'm not hung up over Ron. I doubt I even loved him. But back then…I was pretty, popular, and the popular, attractive boy who played quidditch liked me back. I was so unbearably lucky and I didn't even know it." She said with dejection.
Cormac tossed down some galleons on the bar.
"Get up. We're leaving." He bit out causing all Lavender to look up with confusion. "Get up." He urged again looking at her keenly with his stupid eyes ,shining even in the dim light, until she slide off her stool and allowed herself to be pulled to the exit toward Diagon Alley. He looked at her again with an almost awe in his eyes. As if he couldn't believe was there with him.
"You're still beautiful. Nothing has changed." He beamed still holding her hand as they walked into the alley. Lavender couldn't wipe the grin off her face if someone had paid her. Maybe she could learn to hate him a little less, she thought.
The sky let out a loud crack of thunder and large drop of rain started to scatter themselves on the cobble street.
"Rain is terribly unlucky." She taunted and the crooked cocky grin that she pursed her lips at in the pub now made her chest ache with something she thought the scars had long ago taken from her.
He looked back in forth on the ground before finding a discarded Daily Prophet. He first cast a quick drying charm, and then an engorio. He held the inflated paper over their heads and with the other hand wrapped around Lavenders' waist he said:
"Didn't you here me back at the Leaky? We're wizards. We make our own luck."