Year 3

(Lavender Brown)

You begin to look at boys now.

Over the summer you've found you've grown the beginning of curves. You hope you'll grow a lot more, be like your mum, with a full and curvaceous body. Maybe you'll be able to borrow her dresses, wear them without feeling like you're swimming in them.

Your parents took you to the beach, where you wore that skimpy bathing suit and you felt the hot stares of boys for the first time.

You wonder what kissing would be like, too.

You've always had your epics, your grand stories of love. But this is different, this is hormones, and you long to lock lips. You convince yourself that there's a boy in Hogwarts that simply must be your prince, and if you've got to kiss a few frogs to get to them, well, you will.

Third year definitely brings changes.

You realize that besides you and Patty, no one else has grown much. It makes you feel a little uncomfortable, until you're sitting in a compartment with the girls and a cute fifth year winks at you.

And you begin to realize what your mother meant by beauty can get you anything.

"What do you see, Miss Brown?" Professor Trelawney says, coming up behind you and Parvati's table. Staring into the tea cup, trying to make sense of the tea leaves, you rack your mind for what a bat represents.

You're in divination, and while all the boys in your class (plus Hermione) make fun of it, you listen and take it seriously. You actually begin to like it quite a bit.

"Erm, well, she's got what looks like the sun, which symbolizes happiness?" You ask tentatively. "But then she also has a thick line running across, which symbolizes a journey, possibly within self."

"Let me see." Professor Trelawney says, taking the cup and tilting it different ways. "Yes Miss Brown, that is a completely accurate reading. Well done."

You beam up at her, and listen to Parvati ask her about foxes and what they represent.

You scour your star charts, stay up late into the night. Professor Trelawney is inspirational to you, you wish you had her gift to see into the future.

Divination is your new favorite subject, your head's always been a little in the stars. You love the idea of fate and worldly magic like that, futures and pasts and the planets aligning. You search, looking for answers for questions like when will you get married, and how many kids will you have.

You learn as much as you can, reading up on star charts and tea leaves.

Nathan Banks, a Ravenclaw from the year above you, asks you out. He's got dark brown hair perfectly coiffed and a smirky smile, thoroughly full of that pretty-boy quality you've convinced yourself your partial to. So you say yes.

You have a good time. You giggle at appropriate times, hold his hand as you walk through the village. He snogs you outside, in the alley behind the Three Broomsticks.

His lips are soft and rhythmic. His cool, smooth hands snake around your back, caressing. He's definitely done this more than once. You screw your eyes shut, try to focus on what you're doing. Moving your lips against his and trying to mirror his actions. Before you know it, his tongue slips into your mouth, and now you're not exactly sure what to do. But you like the feeling, so you don't stop him, and try to do whatever he's doing. You realize you're not doing anything with your hands, so you try to maneuver them up into his hair, but end up sort of poking him in the head.

He pulls away abruptly, but grins largely.

Kissing is great, you decide.

You're enthralled with the way you seem to be able to control boys now.

You've got a little more than most of the girls in your grade, and everyone has seemed to notice. You've learned to angle yourself just so, and you wear one less button buttoned than all the other girls. You learn to swing your hips when you walk, bat your eyelashes, giggle whenever a boy thinks they've said something funny, and the correct way to put on lip gloss.

Boys stare at you constantly, and the brave ones ask you out left and right, and you find yourself in Hogsmeade every visit. Parvati and you pull the curtains shut around her bed and laugh over Witch Weekly articles like "Ten Ways To Make Your Man Shiver With Pleasure!" and "Performing Glamour Charms: Five Common Mistakes".

You hear people call you ditzy, but you don't really care, because you catch those same boys looking at you hungrily, and those same girls looking at you with obvious envy.

You put on your makeup every morning and wish that you were older, that your shirt was just a little tighter, skirt just a little shorter (really you long to feel beautiful and mature).

Hermione Granger silently judges as you do your hair each morning, and as you situate your chest so that it looks bigger than it is. You don't care, because all she cares about are top marks and being the best in the class, something that you're never be.

Professor Trelawney predicts that on the sixteenth of October, something will happen that you've been dreading. You are fearful when you wake that day, put on your favorite pair of underwear, take a little extra time on your hair.

Then, during breakfast, you get news that Binky the rabbit had been eaten by a fox.

The news hits you hard. You might be the tiniest bit smug because this certainly proves that Trelawney is a seer, but on top of that you just cry.

It hurts. This is Binky, your one companion besides Eloise back home. All those times your mother left you out to play by yourself, Binky was there. In all your infinite dramatics, part of you marks this as the day your childhood ended.

You leave class that day quickly, holding your books tightly to your chest. You just want to get back to your room so you can shut your curtains and cry some more. Not that you've ever had a problem crying in public, but your head is starting to hurt, and you'd prefer if you got to lay down.

And then Seamus Finnigan catches up and starts walking next to you.

You stop abruptly, and whine, "Oh, what do you want Flammable Finnigan?"

He looks nervous for a second, and now you're intrigued by what he's going to say. He takes a breath, and says quickly, "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about your rabbit."

You're shocked for a solid moment. But then you crumble, and before you know it, you're crying on his shirt. No, not crying, more like sobbing. You can feel he's trying to stand as still as he can, and it almost makes you want to laugh.

Students flood the hallway, and he gingerly steps away from you. Then he looks away, fast. "Sorry, I can't be late for Transfiguration tutoring again."

And he practically runs down the hall. You're more confused than ever.

You let your head rest on the cot as you pull your blanket closer against you. The Great Hall is colder than it is during the day, and Parvati is already asleep next to you. You can hear a murmur of voices, probably teachers' as they walk through.

You're really scared. Sirius Black the murderer was inside the castle. Just the sound of his name gives you the creeps.

You turn over, noisily kicking at the sheets, and your gaze falls on the open eyes in front of you.

"Couldn't sleep either?" Seamus' green-blue eyes say.

"It's not exactly easy when there's possibly a murderer lurking around the castle." You huff, pulling your blankets up to your chin.

He laughs quietly. This is actually the first time you've directly spoken to him this entire year, besides that one time after Binky died and you sobbed into his shirt. He looks the same as last year, small and short for his age. His face is boyish, and hair is messed up everywhere. You squint in the dark and can make out a smudge of what you think is mud across his cheek.

"Well, we've got Dumbledore with us. Black'd never challenge him." Seamus says, and it makes you feel a little more relieved. Though he makes fun of Divination mercilessly, much to your chagrin, he's been kind to you this year. He hasn't teased you directly, and there was that one time when he saved you from getting hurt by that Blast Ended Skrewt. Come to think of it, he really has been humane to you this year.

"Yeah, I guess so." You say, and watch his eyes smile at you. He's got really nice eyes, you think.

You fall asleep that night turned towards him, just because somewhere deep in your fresh and naive heart, you think he'd protect you from anything that came to get you. Even if he isn't really a prince-type.

(Seamus Finnigan)

The year starts like the one before, despite the fact that Mam is constantly on about Sirius Black.

"The Prophet says tha' they're goin' ta have Dementors at ev'ry entrance, but just in case... in some terrible accident he manages ta' get near ya', you've gotta promise me tha' you won't do anythin' stupid. No doin' what you usually do, tryin' ta save everyone." She says, thrusting a pile of folded clothes at you, which you throw in your trunk.

"Mam, that's Harry's job." You joke, thinking about him slaying the Basilisk last year.

She grabs your cheeks, and kisses your forehead forcefully. "Jus'... try yer best ta' not get hurt."

Third year begins. You're happy to be back at Hogwarts once more, hanging with Dean every day, painfully glad Lockhart is gone now. Dean grows almost six inches, you're still shorter than most of the boys in your grade.

Returning from a summer of flying around the countryside with Fergus, you look forward to the new classes you'll have, particularly Care of Magical Creatures. Dean tugs you into a compartment and drops his trunk.

"Did you see Lavender Brown?" He asks. You shrug.

"No, why?"

"She got fit over the summer."

You shrug again. "She's a right pain, though."

Dean drops the subject and starts discussing the new Quidditch season, which you jump into whole heartedly. You'd rather not talk about annoying Lavender Brown or whether or not she got "fit".

You like Care of Magical Creatures, especially with Hagrid teaching. Divination, however, is boring and infuriating. You can't seem to "see" anything but clumps of leftover tea leaves. Dean has a similar feeling on it, so the two of you spend the time making up their futures like Ron and Harry do.

Lavender, in all her quality, of course, loves it. You roll your eyes constantly as she insists that the planets will be in alignment in time for exams, meaning that she'll have good luck. You doubt Trelawney's prediction of the grim in Harry's teacup, and immediately receive a scowl from Lavender, as well as a head shake from Parvati.

Your steady dislike of her continues, as she insists that she'd rather study unicorns than something cool (though after you'd been stung for the third time by one of those Blast Ended Skrewts, you begin to wish the same). And she's always giggling, which is just plain annoying.

You have to confront your boggart in front of the entire class during Defense Against the Dark Arts. You thought you liked the class, just simply because Lockhart isn't teaching it (the new teacher is Professor Lupin, who actually seems sort of awesome)... but now you're not so sure.

It takes the form of a banshee and starts screeching incessantly. It brings you back to those stories you heard when you were a lad from people in the village about banshees and how their scream is fatal...

You gulp, summon up all the courage you can, and shout "Riddikulus!" Her voice is stripped away and you feel relief flood down to your toes.

"Very good Mr. Finnigan, very good. Next!" Professor Lupin says, and you turn and walk back to your desk. As you're walking back, you think you see Lavender smiling at you, but when you look again she's just whispering to Parvati.

She's crying at breakfast. She cried last year, but those were quick and relatively painless to watch. This time, she's sitting up the Gryffindor table, surrounded by the other Gryffindor girls, clutching a letter to her chest and sobbing. You're unpleasantly surprised to find that this actually makes your stomach hurt, makes it physically uncomfortable to watch her cry so hard.

"Her pet rabbit died." Dean tells you, buttering some toast. "Now she's claiming that Trelawney's predictions have to be true, since Trelawney said that Lavender would receive news about something she was dreading on the sixteenth of October."

You shrug, but can't stop yourself from looking down the table.

That day after class, Lavender's walking alone (for the first time since you can remember), so you catch up to her.

She takes one look at you and stops short. "Oh, what do you want Flammable Finnigan?"

You gulp, but think that your mam would kill you if you didn't do this. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about your rabbit."

Her face melts, and suddenly she's leaning against you, sobbing onto your shoulder. You're not sure what to do, you stand as straight and still as you possibly can. It's really sort of uncomfortable, and you can feel her tears getting your shirt really wet.

Students flood the hallway, and you gingerly step away from her. You notice her eyes still look sad, and you have to look away. "Sorry, I can't be late for Transfiguration again."

And you take off down the hall, shaking off the strange feeling that makes you want to hug her.

You start to feel strange about girls. They're not as... well, you don't want to keep away from them at all costs any more (and they seem to have lost all cooties). And Dean's using words to describe that you've heard the older boys use like "fit" and "sexy", so you go along with it because it's Dean.

Of course, whenever someone comments on Lavender (and to your dismay, that happens a lot) you just stay out of it. No matter how "fit" she is, she's still annoying and giggly and a mite bossy, right?

So you don't know why, but when you see Lavender tossing and turning next to you, you speak.

"Can't sleep either?"

"It's not exactly easy when there's possibly a murderer lurking around the castle." Lavender huffs, pulling the blankets up to her chin. It's the first time all year that she's said something remotely funny, and you find yourself stifling laughter.

Though you can also tell she's genuinely scared. You wonder what you can say to make her feel better. "Well, we've got Dumbledore with us. Black'd never challenge him." You say, repeating what you heard that Oliver Wood, captain of the Quidditch team say to Katie Bell.

You watch her eyes soften. "Yeah, I guess so." She says.

That night, you fall asleep turned towards Lavender, because you sense that she's still a little scared. You suppose you are as well, but you're making it better by pretending that you're protecting someone. Even if that someone is annoying Lavender Brown.

It's not like you and her become best friends. No, quite the opposite, after that talk in the dead of night, you don't talk at all for the remainder of the year. Except for a few "pass the salt"s and "what was the potions essay supposed to be about again?"

But when you find yourself staring at Lavender Brown at the end of term, you know you've got a problem.

She actually is sort of pretty, you think. But as quickly as the thought came, you shook it out of your head, and didn't think about it again.

A/N: Hello! I don't know if anyone is actually reading this, but if they are, thank you! This chapter took some time, but I'm happy with it. The next chapter should be up soon, I hope.

PLEASE REVIEW!