The days grew shorter as the moon waxed into December. Work picked up even more at Brenda's shop and Lavender felt like she was constantly running around. Snow fell in fits and spurts and made it hard to get out of bed in the morning, though Lavender was grateful for the fact that she could layer up even more without it seeming strange. The scars on her face were bad enough without exposing the ones on her neck and shoulder. Summer had been rough. There was only so much layering that could happen before it got uncomfortably hot.
Work had been picking up for Seamus too, and Lavender felt like she hardly got to see him again. When she'd mentioned it to him a few nights before he had kissed her hard and told her it would go back to normal after the holidays, and then rushed out the door. She had been left standing alone and not at all reassured, clutching her bathrobe to her hard enough to turn her knuckles white. He was hiding something from her, she knew.
He wasn't seeing someone else, unless he was being incredibly careful about it. She would smell it if he'd been around some other girl in that way. She could smell what coworkers he had interacted with on a daily basis, which had scared her at first but she was slowly coming to terms with. It was weird, being able to smell people, or knowing the exact scrape of his wand against the door, the precise sound of the fall of his footsteps and the swish of his work robes in the wind.
And yet as she had stood there in the fading traces of the cold wind his exit had let in the house, she couldn't help but feel scared, like he was leaving her when he left the house. Seamus loved her, she knew that, but it felt like he didn't when he did that. And that feeling put fear into her, and she pricked her finger with a needle three times at work that day.
It got worse over the next few days. He was always home at night, but it got to be more and more that she would go to sleep and he would be gone by the time she woke up. She knew he had been there – she could smell him in her sheets, and there would be tea mugs and plates left in the sink – but she rarely saw him and it made her even more worried.
Coming home from work a week after his strange new behavior had started, Lavender decided to stop for a drink at the Leaky Cauldron. It wasn't like Seamus was waiting for her to come home, she thought bitterly. He probably wouldn't even notice. She kept her collar pulled high and her scarf on as she entered the crowded bar. Plenty of Christmas shoppers had stopped in for a bite and a drink before braving the cold again. The weather had taken a turn for the worse, and more snow was called for that night.
Lavender took a seat at the bar, avoiding the look of a man around her age. She had a boyfriend, even if he was absent recently, and that man wouldn't be interested once she removed her scarf anyway. She pulled her scarf down slightly, then removed it slowly. She darted a look across at the man as she shook out her hair, the scars on her forehead and right temple clearly visible. He blinked at her, that same horrified look she had grown resigned to present in his eyes, and she looked away. All his stare was going to do was make her more bitter, and that was the last thing she needed right then.
"Lavender?" A familiar voice asked, and Lavender looked around to meet the eyes of Hannah Abbott, another DA member who had fought in the Battle of Hogwarts.
"Hi Hannah," Lavender greeted across the noise of the bar. Hannah was behind the counter and quickly came up to Lavender's seat. Lavender had almost forgotten that Hannah was working here now, to help her grandfather run the place.
"It's great to see you!" Hannah greeted with a smile, the Hufflepuff warmth evident in her voice and making Lavender feel better just with the sound of it. "Can I get you something to warm you up a little?"
"Firewhiskey would be great," Lavender replied, a smile creeping over her own face at Hannah's infectious happiness.
"We've got some cider warming on the fire too, how about a splash of that in it?" Hannah offered.
Lavender nodded her assent and soon enough her drink was in front of her, steaming and smelling of spices. It smelled amazing, and she didn't hesitate in sticking her nose right over the cup and inhaling the cloves, cinnamon, ginger, and nutmeg mingling with the apples and whiskey. It tasted incredibly when it cooled enough for her to drink it, and Lavender slowly felt her good mood returning. She still missed Seamus, of course, but the press of people around her helped her feel less lonely.
She stayed at the bar longer than she had intended, and two hours on it had cleared out significantly, with people wanting to get home before the snow started. Hannah came over to her and leaned across the bar on her elbows, looking at Lavender. "How have you been?" She asked. "It feels like I haven't seen you in months."
"I don't think you have," Lavender admitted. "I've been working a lot. The shop is picking up with the holidays."
"That's good to hear," Hannah smiled. "How's Seamus? It seems like Neville is constantly gone with that new case at work."
"Seamus is gone a lot too," Lavender admitted, her earlier concern returning. "Neville has been working overtime too, then?"
Hannah nodded. "Not like Seamus, he says. Apparently Seamus is taking this case personally. Which is understandable, of course," she amended swiftly, looking at Lavender like the blond might take offense.
Lavender tilted her head in confusion. "How do you mean?"
Hannah looked at her in confusion. "Hasn't he told you what the case is?"
Lavender shook her head. "He's been gone a lot..." she said, trying to keep the defensive tone out of her voice. "I really haven't seen him much the past week."
Hannah bit her lip. "I thought you knew." She lowered her voice before continuing. "They're tracking a werewolf. Apparently he's one of Fenrir Greyback's old followers, who didn't take well to the fact that Greyback was caught and put down. This werewolf has been targeting people like... well, people like you, who were attacked but didn't change."
Lavender felt short of breath. Why hadn't he told her? Had he not wanted her to worry? Did he think she would be scared he was helping hunt for a werewolf? Had he not wanted to scare her with the thought someone might be hunting for her? That was idiotic. It would be much better if she knew and could know to guard against a werewolf, rather than just wander around not knowing about the danger. Slowly, she felt the dull flickers of anger catching inside her, like sparks on dry tinder.
"Lavender, I'm so sorry," Hannah said, but Lavender barely heard her. "I thought he had told you."
"It's okay, Hannah." Her own voice sounded strange to her, like it was coming from underwater, or over a bad radio connection. "Thanks for letting me know." She pulled out money from her purse to pay for her drink, then gave Hannah a tight smile and left the Leaky Cauldron.
She was wary on her walk home, even though she knew she was likely safe since the moon wouldn't be full for almost another two weeks. When she reached her flat she undid the hexes mechanically before letting herself in. Her house was empty as she lit the lamps and started a pot of tea, eyes still unseeing. How could he not tell her?
Some of the papers she had been seeing lately made more sense now. The Ministry of Magic had been coming out with more werewolf legislation recently, and though it didn't apply to Lavender because she wasn't actually a werewolf, it had been a little worrying. There had been some outcry from the community but it had been silenced fairly swiftly, from what she was remembering. If there was a rogue werewolf on the loose increased legislation and control over werewolves made sense, even if it made her uncomfortable. How much werewolf was too much, anyway?
She stayed awake waiting for Seamus to return, starting a fire and letting it die down without tending it as her mind roiled. Why hadn't he told her? Some misguided and outdated sense of Gryffindor chivalry? He should know her better than that. Just because he was an Auror and she worked in a robe shop didn't mean she had forgotten everything from six months ago. She had killed people, not because she wanted to but because it was her or them. Did he think she was just going to roll over and cry for help?
Her irritation intensified, and when she finally heard his wand tracing out the patterns on the door she stood, practically crackling from anger. He stepped into the house slowly and keeping his footsteps soft, clearly expecting her to be asleep. When he turned around he almost jumped from surprise at seeing her standing there against the glow of the first. She could hear his sharp intake of breath, then the slower breaths he took to calm himself. "I thought you'd be asleep," he said, a hint of wariness in his voice. He wasn't stupid, she knew, and she knew he knew she was mad.
"Why didn't you tell me there was a rogue werewolf running around hunting down people like me?" She asked. She had learned better than to beat around the bush with him. Both of them appreciated directness, which was another reason this hurt so much.
Lavender heard him sigh, and she could see him slump down in the dim light. "I didn't want to worry you," he said quietly. "I just wanted to take care of it before you knew. You've been so busy at work, I didn't want to stress you out even more."
"So you hid this from me? The number of times I've walked home alone at night, and you hid this from me? Not even a warning?"
"He's not in London," Seamus explained. "We know that much."
"Do you think that matters?" Lavender asked, her voice rising. "What, did you think I couldn't take care of myself, you didn't want me to fret, like I don't know what werewolves are capable of? How could you not tell me, Seamus?"
"I didn't want you to worry!" He shot back, never one to back down from a fight and just take being yelled at. "I told you I wouldn't let anything hurt you and I won't! This is my job now, Lavender, this is what I'm trained for!"
"I'm trained for it too!" She yelled at him, not caring that the neighbors might wake up. "I was in Dumbledore's Army with you, in case you've forgotten! Just because I'm not an Auror with you doesn't mean I'm useless!"
"Oh, what, are you going to stab him with a needle? Take his measurements?" Seamus said, disdain evident in his voice. The moment he said it she heard his intake of breath again, but she didn't care as anger raced through her.
"Is that what you really think of me?" She asked quietly, voice cold. "That I'm just some seamstress and I can't take care of myself?"
"Of course not," he hastened to respond. "Lavender, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."
"But you said it," she commented lowly.
"I didn't mean it," he said, but his words sounded hollow to her.
There was silence before she sighed lightly and shook her head. "It's okay. I'm going to bed."
He joined her in their bed soon, back pressed up against hers. But there was an uncomfortable silence between them, and she lay awake most of the night thinking about their fight. Just because she chose to be a seamstress didn't mean she couldn't protect herself, and she was still a little angry that he had said that. But she knew that anger wasn't the way to fix the gap between them, so she turned slightly and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, still feeling the uncomfortable silence even as he rolled over and took her into his arms.