Word Count: 503

He notices her alone in the back of the pub, black fishnet stockings clinging to her legs. Her painted lips fit around the filter of the cigarette, and she inhales, leaning back and breathing out a cloud of smoke.

Kingsley feels drawn to her. He supposes most people avoid her now. Everyone knows that the scars across her body are Greyback's work. The world has a long way to go in learning to accept someone and set prejudices aside.

Kingsley moves closer, sitting across from Lavender. "Let me buy you a drink," he offers.

She removes the cigarette from her lips, her gold bangles noisily jangling with the movement. "And why would you do that? Actually, I really don't want to know." She sighs, snuffing out her cigarette. "I'm not your charity case, got it?"

"Maybe I just genuinely want your company," he says before calling out an order to Rosmerta.

"You know my drink of choice?" Lavender asks, her voice softening.

Kingsley chuckles. "I've noticed you," he answers. "You've become something of a wallflower, but…"

He clears his throat. Lavender is lovely with her kind eyes and honey curls. How could anyone not notice her?

"A wallflower?" she echoes, clearly amused. "What else should become when…" She gestures to her scars.

"I'm self-conscious about my ears," Kingsley tells her.

Her brows raise, eyes drifting to the gold earring in his ear. "Bullshit."

He laughs, shaking his head. "No, no. It's true. I pierced them because I thought it would help me like them more."

"Did it?"

Another laugh. Kingsley leans back, accepting the glasses Rosmerta brings them. "Not really," he admits, sipping his butterbeer. "But, after a while, I stopped thinking about it."

"No offense, but ears are a bit different from my trauma," she says.

"I know. I can't even begin to imagine."

Silence hangs between them. Lavender sips her wine, lips curling into a smile. "You're the first person to really see me," she tells him. "I mean… Obviously people can see me, but you… You're different."

He doesn't think it's anything to be praised for. All he's done is continue to treat Lavender like a normal human being. Any decent person would do the same. Unfortunately, it seems there aren't as many decent people in this world as he would like.

"Let me take you out to dinner," he says.

"Why would you want to do that?" she asks, a soft pink staining her cheeks.

"Because you're lovely, and you deserve to be loved." He finishes off his drink and climbs to his feet, offering her his hand. "What do you say? A leap of faith?"

With a smile, she allows him to guide her to her feet. "A leap of faith," she agrees.

The world can be such a cruel place, and he imagines it has not been kind to Lavender in the weeks following the final battle. But if he can make it just a little better for her, he will. It's the least he can do.