Title – Promises

Author – Feather

Rating – G-PG

Genre – Semi-Angst

Category – Harry Potter

Author's notes – I've been experimenting with my style lately, and this came out as a simple, clean piece that has sprinklings of my norm. It is really just an experiment, so feedback is appreciated ^_~ I have no earthly clue where this idea came from, but as it was short enough to write with a new style, I thought I'd give it a whirl. Now, I have no idea of Lavender's life, as nothing really has been revealed in the books. This is one idea I've thought of for just any character, so why not for Lavender? Thanks for reading, love you all ^_^ ~ Feather =^^=

*

Character is what you are in the dark. - Dwight L. Moody

The summer endless to Lavender Brown, that summer between second and third year. The days were balmy and sweet; her mother always said that it was most ironic that the lavender fields near their house always filled Lavender's room before all the others, but Lavender felt that it was not so much irony as coincidence, or logic, because her room was situated to bring fresh air in. He father had made sure that her room had been the sunniest, and her mother told her that often, too, a well-worn tale that Lavender never tired of hearing; any good things her mother had to say about her father were rare, and few, and she treasured them with great reverence. She had been waiting since her Gryffindor class had signed up for their third-year courses to take Divination, which made the summer feel ever longer: the feeling of anticipation at actually being able to predict something was almost unbearable by the time August came and it was time to buy her school books.

The day that Lavender went to get her new school things was one of her mother's silent days, so it took much persuasion on Lavender's part to convince her to journey into London. She distinctly remembered the desire to take Divination increase as she purchased the train tickets with her quiet mother handing her the pound notes as needed to the clerk, who was looking on curiously. Lavender could never predict what kind of day her mother would have, which was one of the chief factors in her deciding to take Divination in the first place; ever since her mother's sudden epiphany when her father had died, she would be unpredictable, and Lavender could never know what to expect. One day, her mother would be silent, saying hardly two words throughout the entire duration of the day, and the next, venomously bitter, reminiscing of the days before her 'idiotic father' went off to fight those Death Eaters, forcing Lavender to listen.

After she had eagerly purchased her books, her mother had suddenly dragged her into an animal store. Lavender knew better than to argue with her mother on these days, because it was likely what she did would be the only clue as to when she might start to speak again. Her mother had calmly instructed that Lavender pick out a baby rabbit, because she would be lonely once Lavender had gone off to school. Joyously, Lavender had examined the cages, hoping that her mother wasn't suddenly switching into having a cruel day, when she would build up Lavender's hopes of something good then smash them into a thousand crystalline pieces. Picking up a twitching rabbit, she handed it to her mother, who dazedly proclaimed it as Binky.

The second-most clear memory of that day that Lavender had was of sudden tranquility, when her mother purchased them both coconut ice-cream cones. Lavender didn't mind that her mother had forgotten that she hated coconut, because when her mother was having a silent day, the loneliness was unbearable in their huge, empty house; it now seemed that this had switched to a somewhat good day, instead. She didn't try to remember days any more, even if they were only as far back as a month; most likely, her mother would be in a horrific sort of mood, and would be a delicate figure that Lavender couldn't even dream of trying to convince to be normal and civil.

When September the first arrived and they headed to King's Cross station, her mother was having a happy day, and Lavender was glad she was leaving, despite the fact she had to leave Binky in the hands of her mother. When her mother had a happy day, she knew that the next would make her angry days seem even worse; her mother, thankfully, did not have happy days often anymore. Lavender was slightly afraid of what her mother might do to Binky while she was away, not so much out of fear that she would abuse the rabbit, but more so that she would let him out and then forget that he had gone. However, she dutifully kissed her mother good-bye, telling her that she would send owls regularly to check up on her. Silently, Lavender thanked whatever possessed her mother for causing her to be calm; she didn't do anything that would seem too out of place in the busy station, as she might of, had it been any other kind of day, and hugged Lavender quite tightly in return, telling her that she and Binky would write back.

As much as Lavender hated taking care of her mother, she knew that it was her duty, and that her father would have wanted her to. He would often talk about going on raids in a tone that suggested that he would not return, telling her to take good care of her mother when he was gone. Though she had been a small child when he had died, she remembered looking up into his handsome face and see a sadness in his eyes, something that she hadn't understood until later on, when she knew how fully the loss had affected her mother, and even herself. Her mother had always laughed those comments away, erasing the sadness by giving her father a reassuring hug and kissing the top Lavender's braided head. Now, though, her mother fully depended on Lavender to take care of the house, balance their finances, and earn good marks, despite the fact that she was only just thirteen, something Lavender wasn't quite sure her father had wanted.

Lavender was suddenly pulled out of her reverie and memories by the spectacular entrance of the Divination teacher, Professor Trelawney. She could hardly contain her excitement, squirming in a large pouf that swallowed her petite frame after having been instructed to sit. She listened with the reverence she reserved only for her mother's good tales of her father, as though her very being depended on learning to see into the future. Maybe if I could have seen that the Death Eaters would have killed my father, she thought, then…mother wouldn't be like this. A rising feeling of guilt settled in her stomach after these last thoughts; had it, indeed, been her fault that she couldn't see what was coming? Lavender, you silly girl, she reprimanded herself, what-ifs won't lead you anywhere but blaming everything on yourself. You can't predict everything. You were only a child. She could not, however, fight that feeling of guilt, nausea and bile rising in her chest from thinking about the night that the Ministry personal came, telling her mother in hushed, sorrow-laden tones that Mr. Michael Brown was dead, couldn't erase seeing her mother's limp form drop into a dead faint out of her mind.

"I wonder, dear," a misty voice said, interrupting her thoughts, "if you could pass me the largest silver teapot?" Lavender, feeling extremely relieved at being pulled out of these harsh memories, stood up, took an enormous teapot from one of the shelves, and put it down on the table in front of the professor. "Thank you, my dear. Incidentally, that thing you are dreading – it will happen on Friday the sixteenth of October." Lavender felt herself tremble: how on earth could Professor Trelawney know that the sixteenth was the anniversary of her father's death, and that her mother would undoubtedly send a very queer owl to her, an annual event that she dreaded?

She had no further time to contemplate these thoughts. A squealing Parvati rushed over, pairing herself up with Lavender without her consent, and Lavender accepted a steaming cup of tea silently. She forced the hot liquid down her throat, hoping that it would take away her nausea, but unfortunately she found that it only increased the desire to dispose of her breakfast. "Why don't I read your fortune first?" she asked lightly, hoping that Parvati's questioning gaze wouldn't see her discomfort. A nod conformed a yes, and her previously lost enthusiasm quickly returned.

Days at Hogwarts quickly passed by in a stream of many lunches in Professor Trelawney's tower, Quidditch matches, and lessons. Soon, the sixteenth of October approached, and Lavender felt nausea rise to her throat as she headed down to breakfast, a chatty Parvati following her. She couldn't force herself to eat one bite, much to the protests of Parvati and Ginny Weasley, and before she could plan out how to react to her mother's strangeness, owls streamed in, carrying the mail. With trembling fingers, she ripped open the envelope, to pull out a short note from her mother. Scanning it, she was relieved to see that nowhere was her father mentioned, and as she read it, she realized that her mother was in a stoic, logical mood. These moods came often enough, and though they weren't half as horrible as her engaged ones, she dreaded the impersonal feel of the letters; if an outsider read letters from those times, it would seem as though Lavender's mother was writing to a near-stranger. Something far more distressing than her mother's lack of care was enclosed in the short, concise note: her rabbit, Binky, was dead.

Lavender managed to suppress a wail that threatened to escape her lips by taking a sip of scalding tea. All throughout Herbology, her mind was barely on the puffapods she was supposed to be working on. She could only thank Professor Sprout for the day's lesson, a mindless task of harvesting the shiny beans, nothing that required real effort. However, she could not contain her sorrow for much longer; it hovered around her conscience until she let out a bit of a whimper of pain at trying to keep it hidden as she walked with Parvati from the greenhouses to Transfiguration. Much to her horror, she felt tears collect at the corners of her eyes, and before she could stop them, Parvati asked so concernedly and gently what she was upset about that she started to sob from realizing that Parvati cared more about her well being than her mother did.

A crowd started to collect about her, Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas the closest, as she explained her rabbit had died, making up an excuse on whim that he had been killed by a fox. She knew the most probable reason was that her mother had neglected to feed it, and this set her into a more desperate set of sobs. "What's the matter, Lavender?" she heard Hermione say anxiously.

"She got a letter from home this morning," Parvati whispered, and Lavender once again felt incredibly thankful for her, despite the fact that she knew Parvati would think her life if she knew the truth about her mother. "It's her rabbit, Binky. He's been killed by a fox."

"Oh," Hermione said sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Lavender."

"I should have know," Lavender said tragically, thinking suddenly of a brilliant excuse that would cover up any awkwardness. "You know what day it is?"

"Er -"

"The sixteenth of October! 'That thing you are dreading, it will happen on the sixteenth of October!' Remember? She was right, she was right!" Lavender continued to answer Hermione's logical questions, the sense of sorrow seeming even more oppressing when she realized, truly, that it wasn't so much the rabbit she missed, though she loved him dearly, but rather the fact that now her mother truly was over the edge, and past the point of no return. She knew the perfect childhood family she had once taken for granted was no more than a wisp of a broken dream now, the feelings felt a thousand-times more painfully on her father's death date. That sudden realization evoked a loud, unstoppable wail to rise from deep within her chest, which conveniently punctuated a statement from Hermione that would make it seem that she truly was mourning the loss of her rabbit.

Once again, she felt guilt at having deceived those who truly cared about her, but she logically surmised that they wouldn't care so much if they knew about her mother. After all, she thought bitterly as she drew out an elaborate peacock quill to take notes, don't we all wear our clever facades at times to mask the things we don't want others to know? She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, trying to keep memories out of her head and concentrate on Professor McGonagall's lesson.

"Are you sure you want me to sing it to you again, Lavender, love?" her father asked in a deep, comforting whisper. She nodded drowsily, curling up against his reassuring warmth. Lightly, a hand rested on her head, and she felt her father sigh slightly as she started to sing to her again. Opening her eyes just one final time, she could see her mother standing in the doorway, looking radiantly at her father, her eyes full of tender love as they fell on her. She smiled, knowing that this would be the last time he would sing to her until he came home. "Don't worry, love," he whispered to her, getting up and setting her head down on her pillow. "This time, I promise I'll come home; take care of your mother until I do."

And now, I'm still waiting for you to fulfill your promise, father, she said, lip trembling.

*

Ending notes: I do not own Harry Potter or any related titles, though I did nick a few conversations from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. Oops! ^^ Have a nice day! Love, Feather =^^=