Lavender Brown was furious with herself.

The entire time, she should have seen it coming. She should have known that this relationship would just end with a broken heart for her. Everyone knew that Ron and Hermione had, at the very least, a thing for each other.

But Ron had chosen her. At least for a while. Really, how was she supposed to know it was all just to make Hermione jealous? And, for Ron to practice (very thoroughly, she might add) kissing and touching on someone else before he went to Hermione.

How the fuck was Lavender supposed to know she meant nothing to the boy who had meant everything to her?

Now, as she sat at the opposite table, she clenched her spoon in her hands as Ron whispered to Hermione and Harry, his eyes on her. Almost comically, the trio all turned to face her unabashed, openly staring at her for a moment before turning back to their whispers.

"She seems a bit.. Put out, doesn't she?" Ron's voice was never quiet.

Lavender slammed her utensil down, and swung her book bag over her shoulder. She wasn't just going to sit here, and let them whisper about her. She could see the apprehension in Ron's face, the annoyance in Hermione's, and the fear in Harry's.

"I wonder why, Ron, I would be 'put out'," seethed Lavender, crossing her arms in an attempt to keep her emotions in check. "It's almost like you dated me, used me, just to get Hermione jealous."

"Lavender, I-" Hermione broke the silence, giving an annoyed look to both Ron and Harry, the two boys silent.

"Really, you're the last person I want to hear from," Lavender cut Hermione off, her gaze locked on Ron. "I deserve an apology. At the bare minimum."

Ron was silent for a moment, his blue eyes averted from hers. "Erm, sorry."

Lavender blinked slowly, tapping her foot. When Ron said nothing more, she scoffed. "That's really all you'll say, hm? You're absolutely disgusting."

Without waiting for what would surely be a useless response, Lavender left the Great Hall. Her anger carried her all the way to the Divination room, which was usually always empty. Yet, as she entered the room, there was someone already there, lying on one of the poofy pillows with the hood of his robe drawn over his face.

Draco Malfoy.

Lavender faltered in the doorway, unsure of what she should do. All she had wanted was to be alone, in her safe haven of Divination, perhaps read her tea leaves if she were feeling up to it. But of course, yet another male had to ruin her life.

"You haven't got to leave on our account," Lavender turned to see Blaise Zabini sitting on the opposite side of the room, flicking through a weathered book. "He'll be out for at least another hour or so, as long as you aren't loud."

Lavender nodded stiffly, unsure of what to make of the Slytherin boys. She hadn't had much interaction between either boy, although everyone knew them. Draco "my father will hear about this" Malfoy was the infamous Slytherin prince. Blaise Zabini was one of Draco's close friends, and he had always reminded Lavender of an elegant renaissance painting. He moved with grace and poise, same as Draco, although with Blaise there always seemed to be an air of serenity around him. Draco, on the other hand, was the furthest thing from a picture of serenity.

Regardless, Lavender wasn't going to let the Slytherin boys stop her from enjoying her Divination time.

She sat furthest away from the two boys, moving to make her tea. Once it was done, she sipped it slowly, savoring the warm chamomile on her throat. She busied herself with staring at the ceiling, decorated in various runes and symbols. A few of them were recognizable enough, whereas others seemed to fade and twist in and out of each other. It made it rather difficult to decipher them.

Of course, the tea and the ceiling couldn't distract her for much longer, and she soon found herself thinking on Ron fucking Weasley.

What did Hermione have that she didn't? Lavender's wavy blonde hair was properly managed, instead of a wild frizzy mess like Grangers. Lavender wore makeup, Lavender wore pretty clothes, Lavender took great care in her appearance and the way she presented herself. Lavender knew she was pretty. She was smart too, even if it wasn't quite like Hermione.

It seemed the only thing Hermione had that Lavender didn't was Ron's love.

That seemed hardly fair to Lavender. She was the one who Ron had snogged rather indecently. The one he had touched, even if it was rough and… pokey, the first time. He was incredibly eager, anxious to learn, even if his first few executions were awkward and lackluster. Now, after Lavender had spent time and effort into helping Ron understand the more physical side of a relationship, he was sent off to Hermione, primed and ready to go?

How was that fair?

The sad truth was, it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that Ron Weasley had used her to make Hermione jealous. It wasn't fair that he had used her body, her emotions, as a weapon against Hermione. It wasn't fair that in the end, no matter how much she proved to Ron she loved him, cared for him, it wasn't enough. Did he think she enjoyed all of the public affection and nicknames? She didn't, but with Ron being the youngest boy and the most overlooked, she had wanted him to feel special.

Even if that meant making a fool of herself by constantly throwing herself on him and giving him a nickname like Won Won. She had thought, making him the center of her world, showering him with love and affection, it would make him happy. After all, he was overshadowed by his brothers and Harry Potter. Didn't he want to feel special for once?

Yet, everytime he had instigated their snogging, their groping, whatever it may be, Lavender now realized it was because Hermione was in the room. Whether it be she was coming back in the common room, or innocently sitting with Harry, Ron would force himself onto Lavender. Of course Lavender would respond eagerly, she loved the boy.

Although he never loved her.

The revelation hurt her deeply, and as her chest cracked, a few tears slipped down her face. She stared into her teacup, determined to not have a breakdown while Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy (although the latter was still sleeping soundly) were around her. It wasn't working, and before she knew it, she was sniffling quietly into her now cold cup of tea.

"Here."

Lavender dared look up, defensively, to see Blaise Zabini standing in front of her brandishing a dark green handkerchief. It was labeled with an elegant Z, and she eyed it suspiciously.

"What, did you charm it to give me a rash? Stick to my face, perhaps?" the words came out defensively, and Lavender found she didn't care. She was tired of trying to make men feel safe and secure. Respected. They didn't bother to make her feel that way, Ron had made that clear.

"I wouldn't waste a hanky on a charm as trivial as that," Blaise responded tartly, raising an eyebrow. "You're crying, and Gryffindor or not, my mother raised me better than to let pretty girls cry over useless boys."

Lavender took the handkerchief hesitantly, dabbing at her eyes. Sure that it was indeed just a regular piece of cloth, she wiped at her face, crying her tears. "Thank you." Dimly, she recognized that the ever so handsome Blaise Zabini had called her pretty.

Blaise nodded. He sat next to Lavender then, looking at her tea. "Are you reading your leaves?"

"Yes," started Lavender, pleasantly surprised that he knew what she was doing. "Are you familiar with Divination?"

Blaise nodded again, his nimble fingers reaching over to hold her cup. "May I?"

It was Lavender's turn to nod.

Blaise examined the cup for a minute, a crease appearing in his brows. This close, Lavender admired his long eyelashes. Blaise was quite handsome, as though he had been carved from clay by the hand of Michaelangelo.

"I see a spider," confided Blaise, setting her cup back down. "In ancient times, a spider symbolized growth, power, and mystery. This means, the way you handle situations in your life will determine if you will be prosperous or not. The power of growth lies squarely in your hands."

Lavender swallowed hard. She hadn't been expecting that. "You didn't even have to look that up."

Blaise raised an eyebrow at her, glancing at her. "I usually don't."

Lavender wasn't quite sure how to respond. She hadn't been expecting Blaise to be like this. She was expecting more of a Draco vibe from him, but she found she was pleasantly surprised at his true self.

Speaking of the blond boy, he began to stir on his pillow.

"Looks like the dragon has awoken," conceded Blaise, standing up from his spot next to Lavender. "I'll see you around. Remember your leaves."

"I will." Lavender nodded to the Slytherin boy, watching as Draco rose from his spot.

The blond looked like he wanted to say something about her, but Blaise guided him out of the room before the blond could open his mouth. She assumed it would have been in question as to why she was in the same room as the sleeping boy, but she would never know. Perhaps it was better that way. Draco had a wicked tongue when he wanted.

As Lavender stared into her tea leaves, she thought of Blaise. She wondered if she would in fact see the handsome boy again. Probably not. He was a Slytherin. She was a Gryffindor.

And men, she had found, were utterly disappointing.

unsure if there will be a next part to this. just felt that lavender was done so wrong in the series, and felt for her.

-TheFlyingGraysons