Welcome! Half-Blood Prince is my favorite book precisely because of the description on the back: "As in all wars, life goes on...Sixth-year students learn to Apparate, losing a few eyebrows in the process. Teenagers flirt and fight and fall in love..." I love Harry/Ginny and Ron/Hermione as much as the next person, but there is so much scope for exploration in this book outside of those pairings!
She genuinely envisioned herself with Ron forever. Visions of their future life together interrupted her every hour of the day, and dreams infiltrated her sleep. She saw their future children around every corner and their wedding unfold in the common room each evening.
What's more, she was certain Ron felt the same way. He was simply shy, unimaginative, taciturn. All boys were like that.
Her dream diary and her tea leaves bolstered her assessment, time and again. Of course she would be with him.
She could tell he was secretly pleased whenever she abandoned her adjacent armchair and settled herself on his lap, even if she had accidentally knocked over his inkpot once, and even if it was a little harder for him to write his essays reaching around her. He would rest his hand reassuringly on her waist when she did it, wouldn't she? And he returned her initiated kisses with ample enthusiasm. That was all the affirmation she needed.
"Won-Won, what shall we do for Valentine's Day?" she asked him a few days after the term began. It was dinner, and she'd claimed him the moment he entered the Great Hall with Harry.
"Er, I dunno," Ron said, and immediately ate an enormous forkful of his roast, his jaw straining to chew it properly. "What day of the week is it?"
"It's a Saturday! Perfect, right?" On the one hand, Ron could delight her if he suggested a perfectly romantic activity, such as giving each other increasingly elaborate and niche gifts based on moments they'd shared in the days leading up to the holiday, culminating in something declarative and permanent like an invitation to spend the summer with him in Europe.
Of course, other Valentine's plans would be acceptable too.
On the other hand, if Ron's suggestions were not forthcoming, she had free rein. And she was excellent at romance.
"Oh," said Ron slowly, taking the time to ponder her question seriously while continuing to devour his dinner, "I s'pose we could…have breakfast together? And then, maybe, walk around the grounds for a bit?"
"That sounds perfect!" Lavender smiled fondly. "I'll start thinking about it too and we can do something really special!"
Sure, his suggestion wasn't quite as personalized or thoughtful as she would hope for in an ideal world, but she had, after all, put him on the spot, so really that was to be expected.
She raised the subject a few times after that day, but Ron never emitted more than a mumbled "I dunno, I'm still thinking about it", or sometimes simply a grunt of acknowledgment.
When she said, "If only there was someplace in the castle we could be really alone in the winter!", hoping he'd suggest the Room of Requirement but not wanting to sound too forward, he merely shrugged and said, "Yeah, that's a bit tricky."
She considered planning her own elaborate docket of activities, but Ron had taken ownership of the day and had said multiple times he was forming a plan, so she didn't want to be overbearing for foisting her own suggestions on him.
Later, when she said, "I think you're really going to love your present," he hadn't said anything at all. He had been in the middle of a heated chess game with Harry at the time, so perhaps she shouldn't have brought it up, but she'd been bursting ever since she thought of it to share it with him, and decided she just couldn't wait a moment longer to tease him.
Admittedly, Ron was never particularly demonstrative in his love for her. She didn't want to be petty, but she had been the one to say I love you first, and she usually had to pry him away from Harry to even eat their meals together. Even if she felt the tiniest bit like she was throwing herself at him when she tried to offer him a blowjob or initiate a makeout session…well, not everyone was comfortable expressing themselves verbally or physically, and if Ron wanted to work on those skills with her, she was willing to be his patient mentor.
He did, after all, want to work on those skills with her. She was fairly certain of that.
She had written an impressively long letter to Mandy about this, whether Ron truly loved her as she loved him – well, multiple letters, actually. Luckily, Mandy was just as garrulous when it came to romance as Lavender was, and her replies had been most helpful.
It sounds like he's just your typical teenage boy, Mandy had written. They have no idea how to be in a relationship. You need to help them do everything. Just keep trying – make romantic gestures, keep being affectionate, ask him on dates – which I know is hard to do in the castle! He might not tell you that he appreciates these things, or that he loves you, but if he's still with you, that means he likes them.
Mandy was Lavender's sister, five years older than her, and in Lavender's opinion, the ultimate authority on romance. She'd married her Hogwarts boyfriend, a dreamy Ravenclaw who now worked at a private Wizarding wealth management company, eight months after they'd left school, had an adorable toddler, and had recently announced her second pregnancy.
The important thing, Mandy went on, are his prospects. Sixth year boys have no personality – you can't judge him for not living up to romance novels. Imagine him in ten years. Is he good with your kids? Where is he working? Are you working? Also – and you know I'm not prejudiced, but it's something to consider – he's a pureblood. That's security. You deserve security.
Lavender knew Ron's family didn't have much money – everyone knew that about the Weasleys – but his father and brother worked for the Ministry, and his other brother worked for Gringotts. That was impressive. She'd asked Ron once what he wanted to do once they left school, and he'd shrugged and said, "I dunno, do I? I have ages left to figure it out."
That said, she disagreed with Mandy that Ron had no personality. He was sarcastic and pithy and liked to play Quidditch and chess. Lavender didn't quite know how to relate to either of those activities, but he seemed to enjoy them, which proved Mandy wasn't infallible.
Just because Henry, Mandy's husband, had the personality of a damp dishcloth didn't mean Ron was the same way, Lavender thought fiercely.
The question remained, as January turned into February, what she ought to get him for Valentine's Day.
She never saw him wear the necklace she'd gotten him for Christmas. That one had been her mother's idea.
Her mother wrote her constantly about Ron. She'd spent much of the holiday break cajoling Lavender, who'd been rather lugubrious over Ron's apparent lack of reciprocated affection, to give him a second or third or even fourth chance.
"Who you date at Hogwarts is so important," her mother had warned her. "You don't want to let these years slip past you. Once you leave school, it's so much harder."
True, her mother, like Mandy, had married right after leaving school.
Lavender didn't want to become a mother at nineteen, like Mandy and her mother, even though Mandy gushed over her children and Lavender loved spending time with her niece. But she did want to marry soon, and raise children, and she didn't know what career she wanted to pursue outside of Divination. Even Professor Trelawney acknowledged it would be difficult for Lavender to pursue a career as a Seer.
Of course, Lavender had never told Ron how detailed and elaborate her fantasies were. She would have her wedding in her aunt's spacious backyard, which had a brook running through it. She had initially wanted a pink dress, but she didn't think it would suit Ron's coloring, so she envisioned pale green.
They'd honeymoon in France; she'd always wanted to visit the Riviera, and she still frequently wrote a Beauxbatons girl she'd met two years ago. Then, Lavender would get a job, of course, but only so they could start saving for the kids.
She didn't need Mandy and her mother to tell her sharing this with Ron would not help salvage their relationship.
Of course, she corrected herself fiercely, I don't need to salvage anything because we're perfectly happy together.
Despite all of this, for Valentine's Day, she was determined to do something spectacular for him.
She started by writing him a letter. She made the paper herself, marbled pink parchment, just a touch of shimmer. Mandy had given her an excellent Christmas present – Crafty Spells for Crafty Witches – and Lavender had excitedly tried out a few of the projects inside already.
She wrote the letter very late one night, in the common room, when she should have been writing a Charms essay. She'd meant to write the essay that evening, but Parvati had been hysterical over her own lack of Valentine's Day plans, and Lavender had gotten sucked into an endless conversation on the matter.
Really, that was what her mother and sister had warned her about. That's why she'd started liking Ron so long ago. One should always think ahead in these matters, in her opinion.
In the letter, she opted for radical honesty. She confessed the extent of her love for him over several pages – which, yes, she'd told him before a few times already, but this time she'd introduced some new metaphors – and told him she wanted to spend the summer with him. She told him he made her deliriously happy and she loved every moment she spent with him. She detailed several dreams she'd had recently on the subject, and she offered to interpret Ron's dreams if he felt any trepidation toward their relationship.
She had accidentally devoted a page to pondering morosely whether Ron loved her back, exploring endlessly which of several categories of romantic interest Ron best fit into, from exclusively sexual interest (if only) to utter infatuation (she could only hope).
Then, she read the page over, realized she'd devolved into unattractive bitterness, and thriftily siphoned off the ink to reuse the parchment. She would never want to be perceived as melodramatic.
Once finished, she sealed the letter, sprayed a small puff of her perfume onto the paper, and went to sleep, exhausted, homework still very much undone.
The next day, February thirteenth, she asked Seamus to stow it under Ron's pillow that night. He acquiesced; she pretended not to notice the slight grimace and the way he held the card by the tips of his fingers. Mandy's words echoed in her mind: They secretly love romance, but they won't admit; you just have to internalize that and persevere.
The letter wasn't exactly spectacular, but she'd tried spectacular at Christmas, and she feared Ron hated that gift. Lavender thought the heartfulness, the utter sincerity with which she'd penned the letter, would finally make Ron respond the way she daydreamed he would: with a romantic declaration of love, by kissing her in front of everyone, by inviting her to eat dinner with him, by finally going down on her.
Never mind that Henry, Mandy's husband, had proposed to her in front of everyone on Valentine's Day in their seventh year – Ron wasn't Henry, and Lavender didn't want him to be.
Not to mention, Ron still had a year to work up to that.
On the morning of Valentine's Day, Lavender woke up early. She knew she ought to chip away at her Transfiguration assigned reading, but she picked up her novel instead. She had a whole stack of them, well-worn, a torrid Wizarding romance series featuring a spunky heroine and her dashing companion. She reread them compulsively over and over.
Today, the familiar words failed to relax her as she waited for others around her to wake up. She didn't want to seem overeager.
The moment Hermione, a typically early riser, drew the curtains on her bed, rubbing her eyes, Lavender rose as well. She chose her outfit carefully: her most flattering jeans, a flowing, lilac top. She spent a long while braiding her hair, working it into an intricate design, and spent far too much time perfecting her makeup.
Then, when Parvati was ready to bodily remove her from the dormitory, she retrieved from her trunk the second part of her gift to Ron: a small bouquet of lavender, which she'd purchased via post from a magical nursery, and which was guaranteed to live for years without water or nutrition. Lavender couldn't expect Ron to remember to water the plant, after all, but at least this way, he could keep them on his windowsill and think of her.
Bouquet in hand, she descended the stairs, wondering if Ron waited for her in the common room. She was disappointed; a few groups of younger students clustered there, but it was mostly empty. No matter – she assumed he hadn't come down yet, though the morning was certainly getting on.
She sat down to wait and told Parvati to go ahead without her. .
Students filtered in and out, including a few other couples holding hands, but Lavender was patient. She didn't even ask after Ron when Seamus and Dean left for breakfast together. He'd suggested they eat breakfast together, after all – obviously, he must have had a bit of a lie-in and was now getting ready to meet her.
It was to her shocked dismay, then, when twenty minutes later Ron came through the portrait hole, laughing with Harry.
Her immediate thought was he had forgotten. But he couldn't have. He wouldn't do that to her.
When he saw her and said without the least chagrin, "Oh hey, Lavender – happy Valentine's Day," before turning back to Harry and saying, "So he had the easiest penalty in the world, but his hand slipped and he dropped the Quaffle," she thought that might actually be worse.
Harry, slightly more perceptive than Ron, glanced back at Lavender guiltily but said nothing.
"Won-Won?" she said, her voice much higher and tighter than she intended it. "Have you, er, already eaten?"
"Oh," said Ron. "Yeah…did you want to go together?"
Lavender tried her very best to keep emotion out of her voice, but an angry waver was evident even to her as she said, "I just thought we'd planned on spending the day together, starting with breakfast, but if you're busy…"
"No, no," said Ron hastily, "Harry, I'll, uh, see you later, all right?" Ron reached for Lavender's hand, and she felt immediately placated.
"So, what do you want to do?" Ron asked her, settling into the armchair beside her.
Lavender felt her eyes begin to prickle. "Well…we talked about walking around the grounds," she began – but she saw outside the window it had begun to sleet, freezing rain pouring down onto the icy crust of snow already on the ground. "And I have these to give you," she finished lamely, holding out the lavender bouquet.
Ron took it, looking shifty. "Thanks, Lav, these are really pretty! I'll…keep them in my dormitory, shall I?"
Lavender sniffed and gamely persevered: "They're enchanted, so you don't have to worry about watering them or anything. Just put them in a vase or a vial. They should stay alive for years."
She swallowed and bit her lip, hard, anything to make her tears recede. She didn't want to be crying over nothing when Ron gave her a gift in return.
Ron, however, made no movement to pull a small token from his pocket, or return to his room to fetch her present from his trunk.
Lavender waited. Ron said nothing. Ron withdrew his hand, started picking at his fingernails.
Desperate now, Lavender shifted, hoping to sidle alongside of Ron in the armchair, but Ron gave no ground. She settled instead for perching on the armrest, putting her arm around his shoulders, resting her other hand on his forearm.
"Did you…find my letter?" she said conspiratorially, trying for some semblance of calm in her voice, though she couldn't understand why Ron was acting this way or how the morning could have gone so awry so quickly.
"Oh yeah," said Ron. "Thanks for that!" She thought he might finally be registering some of her consternation and was planning to reassure her of his love when he opened his mouth to continue speaking, but then he said, "How did you get it under my pillow, anyway?"
Lavender swallowed hard; she couldn't stop the tears from welling in her eyes now. "Seamus," she said, though she'd been planning on keeping that part secret, an element of romantic intrigue.
Finally, finally, Ron heard her tone and looked up. His expression horrified, he said hastily, "What's wrong? I loved the letter, it was sweet of you to write it…"
"Nothing's wrong," said Lavender, sniffing madly, "I just thought we were going to exchange gifts before spending the day together, but then you ate without me, and now we can't go outside..." She tactfully elected not to mention he had apparently not gotten her a present in return.
Behind Ron, she could see his sister Ginny and her friend Demelza watching the exchange but pretending not to. Irritation flared, but this only made her tears worse.
"We can still go outside!" Ron said encouragingly. "In the courtyard, at least, it wouldn't be too chilly…" He trailed off when he glanced out the window at the sideways sleet.
Lavender said nothing, waiting to see if this was the best he could offer. When he said nothing more, just looked at her insipidly, she gave a tsk of exasperation and stood up, tears now streaming freely from her eyes.
"Actually, I think I'm just going to go to the library," she announced, withdrawing her arm from Ron's shoulders roughly and standing up. "I have a lot of studying to do. I'm going to get my bag from my room. I hope you enjoyed your presents."
She left him stared blankfaced after her. In her dormitory, she spent several minutes composing herself, breathing deeply, splashing cold water on her face, adjusting her makeup where she'd smeared it by rubbing at her eyes.
When she went back down the stairs, Ron was waiting for her. She said nothing and strode past him, through the portrait hole. She could hear his footsteps pattering behind her as she made her way to the library, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of acknowledgment.
She reached the library and sat down at an empty table. Ron sat down across from her, but she steadfastly began removing her parchment and Charms textbook, refusing to make eye contact.
To his credit, Lavender had to admit grudgingly, he was patient. He was patient the entire morning, writing on his own parchment across from her, saying nothing, waiting for her to cool down.
Honestly, it was quite gallant.
As the hours passed, Lavender found her anger slipping away. So he had done nothing to prepare for Valentine's Day. Clearly, she hadn't effectively expressed her needs or expectations, and he hadn't known what to expect. She was his first girlfriend, after all. She couldn't expect him to read her mind. And he'd blown off her later, so what? She knew he was shy, and tongue-tied; she was suddenly sure he'd read it excitedly, had understood and reciprocated her feelings but just couldn't tell him.
So, just after noon, when Ron reached across the table for her hand, spreading his stocky fingers over her own long, delicate ones, and said, "Hey, Lav, want to get some lunch?", she smiled at him, nodded once, and they stood up and left the library together.
I spent a long time thinking about how to portray Lavender sympathetically. Ron is great, but he really is terrible to her this year, as well as generally passive and reliant on the emotional labor of others, like a lot of teenage boys. I definitely see Lavender leaning into that dynamic. Thanks for reading and leaving your thoughts!
In this collection, I envision chapters about established couples (like this one), plausible couples (like the next one), students pining after each other, exes contemplating the state of affairs, wavering platonic friendships...there are so many permutations! Next up: Susan and Ernie.
