When Lavender woke up she could still smell Seamus's scent in her house. She listened for a moment but she knew he was gone, even though the smell of him lingered. It filled her with a quiet warmth even though all her emotions around their break up still swirled around her. He still cared enough to come and check on her after she had been kept a prisoner and then made a scene at the Ministry. It was a good feeling.
She downed the hangover potion and water and waited for it to kick in, staring at her ceiling and the gentle light filtering in through her window. He had put her to bed with such care last night, even if she had been a bit more forward than she should have been. She grinned at that thought. She still wanted him and it hurt less seeing that he still wanted her too. He did care about her, she could see that, but she had also seen the desire and lust in his eyes. Wounds and all, he still found her attractive, and that did more for her ego than anything had in the last month or so.
She got up slowly, the aches and hurts still present from her attack. She slathered more purple salve on her wounds and went to fix breakfast. She wrinkled her nose at the scents coming from her kitchen – apparently being gone for three days had made her steaks go bad. Even her wolf nose couldn't get past it and she nearly ran outside with the rotten food, dumping it in the trash.
A crash made her whip around. One of her neighbors was out and staring at her wounds. Lavender knew exactly what she looked like – a young woman in a slip of a nightgown with wild hair and bloody wounds covered in thick purple salve – but for a change she didn't have any desire to try to submit herself to the judgement of others. Or rather, she had accepted it before but she didn't feel like doing that today. Not after the attack, and her treatment at the Ministry, and Alexei thinking she was too much of a wild beast to take home to his family.
She set down her trash slowly, raising her eyebrows at her neighbor. The woman looked horrified and scandalized all at once and Lavender stared her down until she fled back inside. Lavender felt a self-satisfied smile creep across her face. No more hiding to make normal people feel comfortable. She wasn't ashamed, just like she had told Alexei. She wasn't ashamed any more.
Lavender went back inside after that, raiding her small pantry for any snacks she could make into a meal. There was some of Seamus's ancient beef jerky and crackers, both of which she stuffed in her mouth. She was still hungry.
She looked around before deciding to go out. The Leaky Cauldron served a good breakfast and maybe Hannah would be there. Lavender dressed for the cold, jeans and a sweater and a robe over that, but didn't put any makeup on. She wiped off most of the purple salve and left her wounds, both old scars and new tears, as they were. The air would be good for them.
The Leaky Cauldron was not busy when she arrived. She had been stared at more than once but she had assumed her confident air that she used when dealing with the people of the Half Moon Tavern and disregarded all of them. She didn't owe anyone anything, not explanations and certainly not her embarrassment.
Hannah was working and did a double take when she saw Lavender. "Lavender! Hello! Neville told me what happened yesterday, I am so happy you're doing okay!" She immediately put in an order for steak and eggs, light on the eggs, for her friend and Lavender smiled at the gesture. She also fetched Lavender a massive mug of tea and then pulled up a seat next to her. "You are doing okay, right?"
Lavender laughed, the motion pulling at her wounds slightly. "I am. I haven't heard anything from the Ministry and I sent Alexei packing after he thought I was too much of a werewolf to date, even though I'm not a werewolf at all." She thought she might as well stall the questions before they were asked. She could already see Hannah looking at her new wounds, though there was no malice or horror in her eyes, just sadness for her hurts.
"Sorry about him," Hannah grimaced. "He had been wondering, in his words, how much 'werewolf blood' you really had. Neville told him off for it once but... it's hard to get rid of hate and fear like that."
Lavender nodded in agreement. "I know. And I'd hate him for it but he just doesn't know any better. No one does." Her steak and eggs appeared and she dug in with a voracious hunger. She hadn't eaten properly in a few days, and her whiskey dinner of the previous night hadn't really been dinner.
Hannah leaned across the bar, fixing Lavender with a look. "What do you mean, no one does?"
Lavender shook her head with an apologetic smile. "Not you and Neville, of course, or the others of the DA. You look at me and know I'm still normal. But other people don't know that – they look at me and see my scars and think werewolf. And when they think werewolf they get scared, even if most werewolves are just like them. I've met so many werewolves who either have no education or no wand and are treated as less than human when it comes to finding jobs or a home. Anyone whose life is unstable is going to be a loose cannon."
She waved her fork for emphasis. "But what's worse than that is that not only do werewolves not have opportunities like regular wizards and witches, they're also feared because of what they are. There's so much misinformation going around, especially with the current hysteria over the rogue werewolves attacking people like me, that even if people want to learn about werewolves, they can't. Even the Daily Prophet claims that Wolfsbane Potion needs to be taken every day for the life of the werewolf for it to work properly, and really you just need to take one dose per day for the week leading up to the full moon."
"You've been thinking about this a lot, haven't you?" Hannah asked, a strange look on her face.
"I have. Even if werewolves want Wolfsbane, they can't always get it because the Ministry doesn't have a dedicated department for dealing with werewolves, they just fall under the Department of Magical Creatures. And werewolves are human three hundred and fifty three days of the year – calling them creatures doesn't exactly make them feel like they've got a stake in the human side of the wizarding world."
"So what are you going to do about it?"
Lavender slumped. "I have no idea. But how they treat werewolves and people who had been attacked but aren't full werewolves, like me, it's just wrong. I was locked in a cell for three days without medical treatment or a change of clothes, and barely enough food for a child, let alone a grown person." She took another bite of her steak and chewed it while shaking her head. "It's just wrong."
"I agreed," Hannah said mildly. "And I don't think I've ever seen you this worked up and ready to fight for something. You remind me a little of Neville when he was running the DA."
Lavender blinked, surprised. That was a huge compliment, considering Neville had rallied them all, worked up a training schedule, and planned and prepared for a massive fight at the end of the year... a fight they had won. "Thank you," she said. "I have no idea how to change anything, but it should be changed."
"Just talk to people," Hannah suggested, getting off her stool and standing. "Talk to others and see if they'll help you. You know the DA will always back you up, but you'll need support from other angles too."
Lavender smiled up at her friend. "Thank you, Hannah. For the food and advice, as always."
Hannah gave Lavender a light hug, careful not to bump any of her wounds. "Any time, you know that."
Since she was already near Diagon Alley, she decided to go visit the robes shop after her breakfast. She hadn't seen Brenda since a few days before the full moon and while her boss had been very understanding, she hadn't showed up for work in more than a few days. It wasn't her fault, of course, but she felt like she should tell Brenda what was going on anyway.
Once she got to the shop she was surprised to see a few reporters outside of it. She put the hood of her cloak up over her head and slipped in through the back entrance to avoid them. "Brenda!" She called.
"Lavender?" Brenda's incredulous voice floated back to her. The older woman bustled through the curtains into the back room, staring at her employee with shock. "They told me you were a werewolf, that you were being kept at the Ministry. Did... what happened?"
"I... I was attacked," Lavender said, slightly taken aback by the fear in Brenda's eyes. The woman had always been so accepting of her scars and her story, it was disconcerting to see apprehension on her face. "I'm not a werewolf. The Ministry held me like a prisoner for three days, I just got out yesterday."
Brenda raked her eyes over Lavender, sighing once she was done. "Well, I'm glad you seem to be alright. But... Lavender, I really hate to do this, but with the current fear of werewolves, there's been pressure for me to let you go. Nearly half the clientele has read about your attack in the papers and most of them have brought concerns to me about having a werewolf working for me. I am so sorry."
Lavender flinched, despite the gentleness of Brenda's tone. "I understand." She turned and left the shop before Brenda could say anything else. She did understand – it was just more of the misunderstanding fear that drove most of the wizarding population in their dealings with werewolves. She was starting to see where Adeline, the woman she had met at the Half Moon Tavern the night of the full moon, was coming from. She might not be a werewolf but everyone thought she was, and it was costing her personal relationships and employment.
She did her grocery shopping to restock her barren cabinets before heading home. Brenda's actions had hurt but at the same time, the woman did have a business to run. Still, now she supposed she was unemployed, which meant she would have to start hunting for a new job soon. She wasn't looking forward to that. Maybe the Half Moon was hiring servers. She could always do that.
Lavender got home early in the afternoon and put her food away. She felt oddly disconnected from the world. Maybe it was because it didn't feel like the world wanted her around, or at least like the normal humans didn't want her around. And that was just ridiculous, because she was just as normal as the next person.
She sat and thought as the sun went down, then opened her curtains and stared at the moon. She could feel it healing her wounds, more slowly than before, but still healing them. It made her feel rejuvinated and alive and she stripped down to next to nothing to let the moonlight shine on her bare skin. The moonstone glowed on its golden chain and she ran her fingers over it with a smile. She had almost forgotten about it, but she was immensely grateful that despite her ordeal, it had stayed with her. She looked down at it, the moonlight reflecting brightly into her eyes.
Lavender felt herself being filled with a wild energy the longer she stood under the moon's glow. A feral smile spread across her face and she shook her hair out, shivering slightly under the moonlight. She wanted to go out. It wasn't like it had been a few nights ago, a frantic need to get out of her house, but rather a desire to go be out among people, to dance the night away and show off. It was Saturday night, she realized suddenly, and it was a good night to go out.
She strode to her closet on cat-quiet feet. She pawed through the assortment of dresses – too long, too drab, to severely cut. She felt angry at her situation and lonely and excited and wild all at once. Stealing a look at herself in the mirror on the side of her closet she usually avoided, she met her own eyes which radiated her emotions, yellow-brown hot against her pale skin. Her recent wounds were only partially healed and stood out stark against her face and neck. She reached further into her closet, stretching deep into the back of it where she kept the dusty box that she had hidden all her little dresses in after she had been attacked the first time.
Lavender pulled out a red one, blood red silk barely hitting her mid thigh when she put it on. It revealed all of her scars, only barely covering the claw marks that started on her left hip. The spiderweb thin straps left the bite marks and the ripped skin of her shoulders and neck out for the world to see. For once she left off all the heavy coats foundation and powder she used to cover the slashes on her face. She accented her eyes with a little liner and mascara and painted her lips a deep red that matched her dress exactly, then slipped her feet into her knee-high leather boots.
It was the work of a second to remove the silencing charm from the heels, and she took a few steps to remember the click-clack of the heels on the ground. No more hiding, no more slinking to the side of the street. Her body was nothing to be ashamed of. She was nothing to be ashamed of. Her figure was amazing even if her skin was torn, and she intended to show off tonight. Lavender pinned her curls up with a red and gold silk clip, revealing her scarred neck and shoulders even more. Looking at herself in the mirror, she tried her old coy, come hither smile. It was still there, a little rusty from lack of use and the tightness of her scars, but it was there. Parvati would be proud.
With that thought to give her warmth, Lavender threw a cloak on and stepped out her door. She strode down the street and reveled in the click-clack of her heels on the cobblestones, stretching out her legs in a ground eating walk that oozed confidence. No more hiding or flinching when people stared at her. She recalled the appreciative looks she started getting from the male students around the end of her fourth year and remembered what it felt like to feel desired for the first time and let that memory fuel her attitude. She was hot as hell and wanted the world to know it.
Lavender walked through the Leaky Cauldron like she owned the place, with a thought of apology to Hannah. She felt a smile curl her lips as her heightened senses registered the looks from the people at the bar and tables. No ducking down, no hiding. She strode through the pub and out into the back, letting herself through to Diagon Alley with all the sassiness she could muster. She walked to the Dragon's Head by going right down the middle of Diagon Alley, loosing her cloak and removing it as she drew close to the bar.
She gave her cloak to the doorman, bypassing the line at the door with a flash of white teeth and a glowing look at the bouncer. He looked over her scars frankly and she raised her eyebrows at him, to which she got a slight grin and a nod to enter. She blew him a kiss as she walked in. Confidence was everything.
Making her way to the bar was the work of a few moments with the press of people in the place, but when she did she ordered firewhiskey, neat. She tipped the bartender well as she took her shot, downing it in one go. It burned her throat in a way that reminded her of kissing Seamus, the taste of alcohol on both their lips, before she pushed that memory away. She didn't need a man to make her feel whole, she had to do that herself.
Tips of her fingers tingling from the shot, she stepped over to the dance floor. It felt like it had been years since she danced but once she took to the floor her body remembered. Lavender didn't know the song but she had always been a good dancer, even if her singing voice had been akin to a cat having its tail stepped on. She raised her arms over her head, basking in the feeling of the crowd, the rush of energy of all the people around her. She could smell them, she realized, their arousal and their drinks and their sweat, and far from scaring her like it had before, she reveled in her increased senses. It just let her enjoy her night all the more.
A few people came to dance with or near her, men and women alike, drawn by her energy. She welcomed them with open arms. Some fled once they saw what she looked like but then others stayed and it kindled hope inside her, hope that maybe some witches and wizards could be brought to accept people like her, scars and all. But those were thoughts for another night. Tonight was about dancing until she couldn't walk and losing herself in the momentum of the crowd. She was alive and unashamed and intended to bask in that feeling and she did until the Dragon's Head shut down for the night and she stumbled home, drunk on the energy of the night and nothing more.
Probably no updates until Monday, sorry! My mother is in town for the weekend and I would be a terrible daughter if I didn't spend time with her. I hope y'all reading are enjoying my story so far - please do leave a review if you are, I can't tell you how much it means to me! Lots of love, and I'll post up something new on Monday! 3, Vee