Unofficial Portkey Archive

TITLE: All Roads Lead Back

KEYWORDS: Hermione, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Draco and the rest of the gang. Primarily H/Hr, but a slew of various ships as well. Post-HBP.

SYNOPSIS: Harry Potter always figured that once his destiny was fulfilled he could finally have a happy, normal life. Unfortunately for him, he fell in love with his best friend...and everything went straight to Hell! A very gradual, slow moving H/Hr love story told through multiple canon character perspective as well as several flashbacks. Set 7 years after the final battle.

SPOILERS: All six books.

WORD COUNT: 16,128

RATING: NC17 for language and later sexual content.

BETA: Padfoot & murphsmine

WARNING: This chapter is from Lavender Brown-Pye's POV. It's all Lav, all the time. R/LB are the featured couple in this one, but there is some sprinkling of Harmony as well.

DISCLAIMER: If it looks like it's JKR's, well, that's because it is. She's provided me with the canvas and I'm truly enjoying painting on it.

Wednesday, 06/08/05

Main Entry: kar·ma
Pronunciation: 'kär-m& also 'k&r-
Function: noun
Etymology: Sanskrit karma fate, work
1 often capitalized: the force generated by a person's actions held in Hinduism and Buddhism to perpetuate transmigration and in its ethical consequences to determine the nature of the person's next existence

Merriam-Webster

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Whoso diggeth a pit shall fall therein

Proverbs 26:27

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People pay for what they do, and still more, for what they have allowed themselves to become. And they pay for it simply: by the lives they lead.

James Baldwin

"I just think that something needs to be done about that hem."

Lavender looked down from her perch atop the short stepping stool at the irate little seamstress on the floor before her. After two hours of fitting and then refitting the silky white robes Lavender had chosen for her wedding ceremony, and sewing the small bundles of Hawthorn leaves and flower petals wrapped in lace throughout the lining of the garment, the woman's temper was starting to show. Especially with Lavender's mother standing over her like a hawk, supervising every stitch that was made. Luckily for Lenore Brown the seamstress' mouth was clamped over a number of small pins so she couldn't express just how grateful she was for Mrs. Brown's unsolicited advice. But if her thick, drawn eyebrows and narrowed eyes were any indication of her true feelings, it was indeed a good thing that Lavender's mother didn't understand a jot of Italian.

"Nothing is wrong with the hem," said Madame Borghese as she wiped at the moist film of sweat on her forehead.

Since Lavender was the Madame's very own special consult they were working in her office instead of out on the main floor with the shop's other clients. The cooling charms however were not strong enough to alleviate the tension in the room, what with Lavender's mum playing Mother of the Bride to the hilt and spewing hot hair all over the place. For nearly two hours her mother and her wedding planner had been having the same disagreement.

"The hem is just fine Anna," The Madame assured her trustworthy seamstress.

Anna Bencivenga had been with Blissful Brides from the very first day it had opened its doors. She was not only a talented seamstress able to turn any girl into the epitome of a blissful bride, but she was also a formidable witch whose fertility charms were some of the strongest in Europe. For years the rumor had been floated around that nine out of every ten girls who got married in a Bencivenga charmed robe conceived during their honeymoon without fail. Lavender had heard the stories as well. Of course for all she knew it could have been the Madame who spread the rumors. Even so, Lavender was still willing to give their track record a chance.

"I don't know," Mrs. Brown said as she bent down to look at Anna's handiwork, determined it seemed to find some flaw in the woman's workmanship, "I really do think it should be lower."

Mrs. Brown then looked at her oldest daughter who had been sitting in a chair close by, flipping through the pages of InChant's Annual Wedding Spectacular with the bored air of a veteran. In one month she would officially have been Mrs. Theodahad Greenberg, chief Loan Officer for the Sentient Being Department at Gringotts, for one whole year.

"What do you think Kelly?"

"My thoughts exactly, Mummy," Kelly said through an over exaggerated yawn, barely looking up.

Mrs. Brown triumphantly turned towards the Madame. "See! You just have to lengthen the front!"

It would seem that the Madame had reached her breaking point with one Mrs. Lenore Brown.

"Dio Mio!" she gritted out through clenched teeth. "If we do that it completely takes away from the dramatic fall of the train," she said as she threw her arms wide.

"Oh I completely see your argument, Madame," Mrs. Brown said with false graciousness as she placed a fluttery hand across her chest. "I am an avid devotee of Modern Witch Bride and Mrs. Emily Hoppingkirk after all. But you see my little Lavey has rather lumpy ankles..."

"Maeve calls them mankles," Kelly said, finally finding some interest in the proceedings as she simpered like the empty headed dolt that she was. Merlin, Lavender certainly hoped that she didn't sound like that when she talked.

Mrs. Brown shook her head solemnly as she paid Lavender's ankles a pitying glance.

"Yes, they are quite stout, poor dear. There isn't anything feminine about them at all, I'm afraid."

Everyone in the room; Kelly, Anna, the Madame, her assistant Paloma, and her mother all took a moment to consider Lavender's ankles. Lavender took the brief pause to wonder if it was possible to self-immolate by sheer strength of will. Since her wand was far from her reach, and she had little to no wandless skills, the likelihood of it happening was quite small. Still, the thought was there.

Lavender began to nervously chew at the little piece of skin that hung next to her smallest fingernail. The disgusting habit, as her mother called it, had been her safety blanket all through her childhood whenever Lavender felt crushed under the weight of her mother's harsh scrutiny.

"Now look at mines," Mrs. Brown said prideful as she lifted her plum-pink robes to reveal her delicately boned ankles that continued down to her petite feet and the heeled slippers that encased them. "Yaxley and Wallingford; this is what you call good breeding."

Mercifully she dropped her robes back down. Her face took on that same pitying expression again that made Lavender want to stomp on those oh so ladylike ankles.

"Unfortunately, my little Lavey−"

"Is a vision!" the Madame protested, cutting her off. Lavender timidly smiled in her direction, but it gave way as soon as her mother continued to talk.

"Of course she is! She looks like me...thankfully. But those ankles..."

Mrs. Brown exhaled laboriously as if to show just what hard work she had put into providing the genetic material for her middle child. Funny enough Lavender did resemble their mother, even more so than her other two sisters; same golden hair, same cornflower blue eyes, the same exact perfect bone structure.

Except for Lavender's ankles. Those goddamned ankles.

"They are all her papa's," she sighed disconsolately. "Poor dear."

Lavender nearly gnawed the skin clean off her finger.

"Ow," she said softly. Only Paloma heard her. The younger girl offered her a sad, sympathetic smile.

"Lavey is very, very lucky that that was all she got from him. But tell me who is going to notice that face," said her mother pointing at her while looking at the others in the room, "when they see those ankles coming down the aisle? Don't you agree, Lavey?"

Hearing no response, Mrs. Brown swung her attention towards Lavender and gave her a hard, appraising glare.

"Well, don't you?" she tried again.

"I-"

"Of course you do," she said, a self-satisfied smirk spreading on her face as she looked pointedly at the Madame. "We'll just have to pick out another set."

Lavender was sure she had never been half so miserable in her entire life, and that was including the thirty-two hours she spent in labor. Here she was, an expectant bride, and the only times her face registered any human emotion was when she remembered to pinch the flesh of her underarm. Otherwise she looked like an automaton; lifeless and hollow. And wouldn't that jackass Bozo from the Prophet just love to get a shot of her looking like her heart was breaking. Which it was.

Like now, she was trying on a set of bridal robes that she hoped made her look like a modern and toothsome witch of the ton, and all she could do was feel like the runt of the litter once her mother got finished with her.

Originally Ginny was supposed to accompany her to have her robes fitted and charmed. Ginny had been very irritable as of late though, complaining of sudden sharp pains behind her eyes that were gone as soon as they came. Lavender figured it was the stress of trying to keep her struggling marriage afloat. Just about the whole family knew it; they were all just too polite to say something about it. Ginny didn't help matters either by pretending that everything with Harry was business as usual.

Lavender had decided not to bother her Matron of Honour. When Lenore offered to come, Lavender had found it difficult to say no. Lavender had even foolishly thought that maybe the two of them could use it as a bonding experience. But once Lavender saw her sister Kelly walk through the doors of Blissful Brides, Lavender knew that this day would be like any other Brown family pileup.

"Cara, is this what you want?" the Madame asked Lavender kindly as she came close to the young woman and looked searchingly in her eyes. She took Lavender's hands in her own and gave them an encouraging squeeze. "When you first saw these robes you loved them."

And she had. But that seemed like a lifetime ago now. That was just the day before her engagement party. Then again everything had seemed so perfect then.

"I..." Lavender tried again, doing her best to avoid her mother's admonishing eyes; eyes so very like her own.

She failed miserably.

"Maybe Mummy is right," Lavender answered, half-heartedly. This time it was the Madame's gaze she didn't wish to meet.

"Bene," said the Madame reluctantly as she dropped Lavender's hands. "Go in the first changing room and take those off. I'll send Paloma in with a few more selections in a moment."

Lavender nodded her head quickly and stepped down from the cushioned stool. She kept her head lowered as she crossed the floor to exit the room.

"Now that's all settled, I think that something with a Sweetheart's neckline would suit Lavey just fine," said Lavender's mother airily. "Do you have anything with capped sleeves, by chance?"

"CAPPED SLEEVES?!" shrieked the Madame, much in the same way one would say "...in Hell". Paloma actually crossed her self. Anna just sneered. Mrs. Brown however ignored the insult to her taste and continued on.

"Kelly's wedding robes had capped sleeves. I picked them out myself."

"Yes, but my robes were prettier than any of the ones here," Kelly snootily added.

Lavender rolled her eyes as she crossed through the doorway. Everything Kelly had, said, or did had to be better than anything of her younger sister's.

"Yes they were darling," said Mrs. Brown in an adoring tone. "I think I shall never see a bride even half as lovely as you were, my princess."

Ouch! Lavender hadn't made it out of the room fast enough to miss that little nugget.

Then again Lavender had long ago reconciled herself to the reality that she was little more than a prop in the stage play that was her mother's life. Lavender after all was the middle child of the Brown household. Kelly was the prized first born of the batch and Maeve was the baby of the family, just finishing up her Seventh Year at Hogwarts. Both had all of the spoils that came with those coveted positions. Lavender just had the bad luck of being born when her mother had finally come to the conclusion that she would never love her husband, even if she was going to have another baby by him.

Lavender was the child that bore the brunt of Lenore's indifference. Lenore Wallingford had dutifully married Mr. Brown under the Rites, but after Lavender's birth she no longer cared to pretend that it was a love match. Her old Hogwarts sweetheart started spending an incalculable amount of time at the Brown home whenever Mr. Brown was away at work. Lavender was told to call him Uncle Mingus.

Mr. Brown, though probably in denial of the situation at first, didn't remain in the dark for long. Although Lenore was discreet enough about it, due to the blood bond Lavender's daddy felt every heated glance like a pin prick; every stolen kiss sent him searching the potion cabinet for a migraine draught. The wife he had believed was a cold fish in bed sent Mr. Brown to St. Mungo's so often with a phantom peptic ulcer that it baffled the Healers for months. He eventually began renting a private room there to avoid any public embarrassment. Although Mrs. Brown eventually ended her affair (for mysterious reasons Uncle Mingus seemed to have recalled the wife and four children he had stashed away in Pretoria), Mr. Brown died soon after Maeve was conceived. Mrs. Brown didn't see any reason not to give the new baby the same last name as her other two children.

Lavender was only 7 years old when her father died. He had been the only person in the Brown household that Lavender never doubted loved her. He called her his little Empress and treated her like one, so his death was a harsh blow to her.

What made matters worse was that it occurred to Lavender that she was the only member of the family that seemed to mourn his passing. Although she was too young to understand why her father seemed so unhappy, she was bright enough to know that her mother had something to do with it. Lavender had seen enough of her playmates' parents together to know that the Brown marriage was as cold and shallow as Lenore's mothering skills. While Kelly was lavished with all of her mother's bright and glowing adoration, Lavender and her daddy had to huddle together in the shadow of those two just to keep themselves warm.

Young Lavender could never understand her mother's ambivalence towards her husband. It was so obvious that Mr. Brown worshiped the ground on which his wife trod, but Lenore never let him forget that she only married him as a consolation. The boy she had wanted was betrothed to another witch so Grandfather Wallingford had introduced her to his young apprentice as a distraction. Mrs. Brown never shied from telling her daughters that she had merely settled for their father. When Mr. Brown passed away Lavender assumed that her father had died from a broken heart. She later found out that it was an overdose of Halcyonian that killed him. He had been taking the potion to dull his senses to the constant ill health that plagued him through out the latter half of his marriage. Lavender didn't bother to change her original opinion.

Lavender trudged into the changing room that Madame Borghese told her to go in and closed the purple curtains behind her. When she turned around her breath caught at the image in the mirror. The bias cut robes with their gauzy bell sleeves that came all the way to her fingertips made her look like an ethereal Celtic goddess; a fairy princess.

To complete the royal picture; though tea length in the front, the back ended in a dramatic extended train. Sparkling moonstones trimmed the edges of it. The first time Lavender got married it was a rushed affair so that she was already Mrs. Pye before she started to show. She had opted not to wear a set of traditional wedding robes then. That impromptu ceremony was just a few ordinary vows spoken quickly to ensure that her child had a name. Corny had been kind enough though; he even offered to buy her a set of bridal robes for the occasion, a trousseau too. But back then as well as now, whenever Lavender envisioned herself wearing wedding whites there was only one wizard she ever saw standing beside her.

Lavender sunk to her knees, watching the fairy princess goddess girl in the mirror do the same. She dropped her face into her hands to muffle the sound, and bitterly began to cry.

Although these were supposed to be the happiest days of her life, Lavender's whole world had officially turned to shite ten days ago and pretending otherwise was slowly taxing her. Though the days following Ron's proposal had been wonderful, they had been hectic as well. There was just so much to do and plan that Lavender barely felt that she had time to exhale; flower arrangements, menu selections, picking a venue, purchasing the wedding ribbon that would be tied around their wrist to officially bind them for life. Lavender had taste tested so many different samples of cakes that she was sure she would be as big as Madame Maxime soon.

But once the day of her Commencement arrived she had been determined to enjoy it to its fullest. She felt that she had earned the privilege. Lavender had committed herself to Ron long ago and now she was finally reaping the rewards. She had been looking particularly forward to being fawned over by all of her and Ron's guests. She had even put out of her head the row their mothers had engaged in that morning. As always, Ron had saved the day. Ron always saved the day! He sat both women side by side and told them that if they made Lavender cry again the couple was eloping. It was a lie, but convincing enough that Molly and Lenore retreated to their separate corners for the rest of the day.

After that everything else felt like a beautiful dream. She was going to marry the man that she loved, that she had always loved. Because she wanted something traditional this time around, she and Ron decided to do the Rites. Her parents' disastrous union barely weighed on her mind. Her marriage would be different, she was sure. Lavender believed that she and Ron's covenant would be a joining of two souls that loved each other wholeheartedly. And most important, unlike her father, Lavender was secure in the belief that she wasn't Ron's second choice.

That sweet dream was shattered by day's end.

The party had been on its last legs. Ron, Harry, and some of their old school mates had gone outside to goof around leaving most of the women to gossip over cake inside the house. Lavender took the time to chat with most of the members of her bridal party in the living room.

Due to her frosty relationship with her own siblings, Lavender was over the moon that not only did she get to be Ron's wife (finally), but that she was also getting four new sisters out of the deal. Fleur and Penelope were the perfect big sisters, always filled with advice and encouragement, and Ginny was fun to gossip and go shopping with. Glinda had her odd quirks (Lavender particularly didn't understand why the Muggle woman got such a kick out of calling Ginny and her Lucy and Ethel), but Lavender liked her despite them.

Trouble was Lavender didn't think Glinda liked her very much at all. That wasn't surprising, though. Lavender might be Glinda's future sister-in-law, but Her...her friend would always be a point of contention between them. Which was a shame; she truly believed that if Glinda gave her a chance they might actually get on well with each other. But Glinda didn't seem interested. Nothing drove this home further than the bored expression on her face as the other Weasley women gabbed on and on about Hannah McMillan's noticeable baby bump or Romilda Vane's tacky augurey feather hat that she claimed was a custom original. Glinda looked as though she would rather be anywhere but there. Her glazed over eyes listlessly wandered around the room.

Lavender, wanting to show Glinda how much she wanted to include her in the conversation, decided to try and draw her out. Lavender had turned to ask her opinion on something, but before the question could pass her lips it died on her tongue the moment she got a good look at Glinda's face. The woman's jaw was slack and her eyes had grown to twice their normal size. Glinda had gone so still that it was hard to tell if she was even breathing. Her attention seemed stapled to some fixed point behind Ginny and Lavender's head on the far wall. Fleur and Penelope, sitting the closest to her, both reached out to ask her what the matter was, but Glinda quickly shook them off and ran out the house. The four women traded worried glances then turned, as if commanded by one single voice, to see what had held Glinda's fascination.

"Mon Dieu!" Fleur whispered as both hands went up to her mouth.

Ginny however came the closest to expressing Lavender's own sentiment.

"BLOODY HELL!"

Indeed.

According to the Weasley family clock Hermione Granger had finally come home.

"You know, back when I was a mere slip of a girl, the only times a pretty thing dressed in wedding robes as beautiful as those wept like a baby, like you are doing now, was either before the ceremony because her padre was forcing her to it. Or afterwards because her mamma had just told her what was to be expected of her on her wedding night. But I must admit that this is a first, Signora Browne-Pye. I've never seen a bride cry just from the mere sight of herself in the mirror, especially when it is such a beautiful sight."

Lavender raised her head and saw Madame Borghese standing before her in the changing room. Lavender wasn't sure how long she had spent in there, but she had eventually turned to lean back against the mirror, knees drawn up towards her chin. The train was bunched up underneath her. She was only half-aware that she was ruining the fairy princess robes.

"I'm sorry, Madame-"

"Filomena," Madame Borghese corrected her reproachfully as she turned her back a moment to close the curtains. Lavender heard her cast an Imperturbatus on the curtains.

"I'm sorry, Filomena," Lavender said, correcting herself once the Madame was facing her again. "I should have taken these off. I'm sorry for destroying these lovely robes," Lavender glumly said.

"They are not half as lovely as the girl in them."

Lavender gave her a watery smile. The Madame stepped before Lavender, and offering her a hand, helped to lift her from the floor.

"But tell me, cara, what makes you cry so? Is it..."

The Madame paused to look over her shoulders as though to make sure her charm stuck.

"Is it your madre?" she continued cautiously.

Lavender brows knit, perplexed as to what the Madame meant.

"Do you mean mum?"

The Madame nodded.

Lavender smiled timidly and shook her head.

"No," she said sounding to some extent embarrassed that the Madame had had a front seat to the Brown family dynamics.

She shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm just used to mum being mum, I guess."

The Madame shrewdly looked into Lavender's eyes for a brief moment before asking her next question.

"Is it that bit of business in the papers then?"

Lavender found herself wondering once again just why she had ever been sorted into Gryffindor house. She honestly tried to refute the Madame's inquiry, but the brave, grimace-like smile she tried to present first trembled, then completely toppled off as soon as a strangled sob escaped her throat. No longer caring if the whole place flooded with her tears, Lavender threw herself into the Madame's arms. Lavender felt a hand softly brush down the back of her hair, and the gentle caress soothed her as she closed her eyes.

"Oh cara…"

It wasn't like she had ever deluded herself into believing that she was the great love of Ronald Weasley's life. That didn't stop Lavender from believing that there was no one in this lifetime, or several others for that matter, who would ever love him as much as she did. That was the reason that she didn't even entertain the thought of allowing him to actually marry that kook Lovegood. She didn't care that she ended up causing a scene. She didn't care that the shell shocked bride had to be escorted away, too stunned at the proceedings to even cry. She didn't care that she had only been a widow officially for two weeks. Lavender just didn't care!

Besides, she knew that Ron wasn't in love with the bride. She couldn't allow him to trap himself like that! Quite frankly she would have pushed the Loon in front of the Hogwarts Express if she had to. Such drastic measures weren't necessary though; Ron was smart enough to realize that Lavender was right. They consummated their reunion that very night. It had all been so perfect. But now...

Now all bets were off. There would be no wedding. Still continuing to act as though that wasn't the case was foolish. There would be no wedding; all the gifts they had been receiving since the announcement would have to be given back. All Lavender would have left is egg on her face and her mother calling her "poor dear" in that nice-nasty way of hers.

Ron was going to dump her. When had Ron ever failed to dump her when that jumped up bitch batted her eyes at him? It was like Hermione Granger had some sick control over Ron that Lavender could never quite figure out. Argh! What was her hoo-hoo made of anyway, gold or something?! Lavender never understood what Granger had that made so men fawn all over her, but whatever it was she had been using it since they were all kids. How else had she managed to rope Ron and Harry into stomaching her company for so long? Now that she was back it was like nothing had ever changed.

Every time Lavender tried to reach Ron on his two-way that home wrecking tart was with him. Sure Ron would waste no time assuring her that Harry was with them too, but Lavender wasn't deceived. Harry's presence was little more than a smokescreen. She and Ron had quarreled more in the last few days than they had in their entire relationship.

The last big row had been over the fact that Hermione hadn't been invited to their Naming Tea. A small gathering of those closest to them had come to the Brown home to formally hear who would be in the wedding party. Hermione had been conspicuously absent. Ron bawled her out good and proper for the snub. Lavender had been so hacked off that she neglected to mention that it was Ginny who had been in charge of the Tea invitations.

Ron then tried to coax her into putting Hermione in the wedding somehow to make up for it; she was his best friend after all. When Lavender refused he told her that she was acting like a child. Lavender hexed his hair Oxford blue. They both refused to talk to each other for the rest of the evening. The next day, though she was still annoyed with him, she dutifully came to Ron's big match. She had never missed a single game in his entire professional career and she wouldn't do so now; Hermione Granger be damned. It was quite an ironic turn of events then that when she went to find her seat that was just who she ran into.

"This is the place that the player's wives generally sit. You don't belong."

As Granger lowered her omnioculars and her head slowly rotated in her direction, Lavender had to control the near shiver that the woman's chilly glare produced in her.

"Then what are you doing here?" she asked maliciously before settling her eyes back before her. Lavender felt as though she had been physically slapped.

The British Cup was being played in a newly built stadium at Glastonbury Tor. The Department of Magical Games and Sports had opened it earlier than the scheduled date to accommodate the large turn out they were expecting for the game. This had led to much controversy. Luna Lovegood's article in Friday's Quibbler claimed that the Ministry had decided to use a fly-by-night contractor to put in the security wards and safety charms for the stadium. They were trying to save a few galleons by not using the company that had been licensed since Grogan Stump came to office. The Ministry vehemently denied the accusation. The Minister for Magic had assured all those who would be attending the game that they would be perfectly safe. This game was to be the jewel of the season; nothing was allowed to go wrong.

The two best teams in the league, Appleby and Wimbourne, with the biggest rivalry as well, were facing off and just about all of wizarding Great Britain had come to a standstill for this match. Those unlucky souls who hadn't managed to snag tickets would be listening to it on the wireless as it was being transmitted live all over Europe. Still it was early enough that the stadium was still slowly filling up and Granger was sitting relatively by herself.

"Look Lavender, that sign over there says, 'Family and Friends'. Ron asked me to sit here."

Granger hadn't even bothered to look at her. Lavender wanted to snatch the smirk that had accompanied the statement right off of Granger's smug face.

"Well I don't see why," Lavender fired back. "You're neither his family, and after the stunt you pulled, you surely aren't his friend."

Granger gave her a dismissive once over and feigned a bored yawn. She then turned her head again as though Lavender was some annoying fly she was trying to shoo. Although Lavender knew that she should be trying to hold her ground against her old rival, she just couldn't sway the feelings of helplessness that was engulfing her. She trembled with it.

"Why are you here?!" Lavender asked in a choked, small voice.

Granger rolled her eyes as she tittered softly. She looked at Lavender and said, "You know me, just can't stay away when there is a rousing game of Quidditch being played. I can't wait to see Ron Wonky Feint all over the place...or something."

"Why are you here...in England?! Why did you come back?! Why did you come back now?! Everything was perfect while you were gone! EVERYONE WAS HAPPY!"

Granger's haughty smile wavered for only a second before coming back, strong and nastier than before.

"Lavender," she said in a cloying voice, "you're becoming hysterical. Do something about it, would you?" she chirped.

She then got up from her seat and went to the nearby railing. But Lavender was too wound up to just let Granger get off that easy. She followed her.

"I HATE YOU!" she said harshly through gritted teeth, eyes malevolently burning as she came up next to her.

"Aww, you hate me, Lavender?" Granger mocked. "Join the queue."

She then pulled the omnioculars back up and tried to ignore Lavender once again.

"Ron...and Harry, they've always had you on such a high fucking pedestal. But I know the real you, Hermione Granger. I've always known it."

"Pray enlighten me."

"You're cold and calculating. You're smug and selfish. You're self-centered; you think the whole world revolves around you. EVERYONE LOVES HERMIONE," Lavender shrieked as she snatched the omnioculars from Granger and forced the bitch to look at her, "BUT I DON'T!" she said as her voice lowered. "I just wish you'd go away! JUST GO AWAY!"

Granger grabbed Lavender's elbow and painfully pulled her close. Her eyes narrowed as she hissed, "You are causing a scene!"

Lavender looked around her and saw the curious glances they were drawing. People were probably wondering at the identity of the woman who seemed to be having a heated exchange with the fiancée of the Wasps' star Keeper.

Not too many people outside of the family knew that Granger was back. She had been keeping a low profile. Unless you really got a good look at her it was hard to tell that it even was Granger. For one there was the dyed hair. She also was wearing a pair of overly large white sunglasses, to match her white tunic dress, and they all but covered her whole face. Even when looking through the omnioculars she didn't remove them. She looked very chic and sophisticated; worlds different than the mousy little swot she had been all those years ago, and Lavender wavered back and forth between wanting to know where she shopped...and wanting to gouge her eyes out of her head. Right now the latter was winning.

"I'm not in the mood to humor you today," said Granger as she released Lavender from her grasp and wrenched the omnioculars back. "So if you're looking for a little girl-on-girl action, take it elsewhere. I'M NOT INTERESTED!"

She then raised the omnioculars again and looked around the stands.

Sweet Circe! This just wasn't fair! Lavender wasn't so sure she would have been able to take on the shrew under normal circumstances...but a blonde Hermione Granger?! That was like waving a sirloin steak in front of Ron. Lavender had to wonder what she had ever done to deserve this. Then she remembered Lovegood...the Express...and realized that she had brought this all on herself.

What was it that Parvati had once shared with her? She had gone to spend the night at the Patil home one summer and the two teen girls had stumbled onto Parv's mother's stash of elderflower wine and proceeded to drink until they were sick. During a sketchy conversation about the cosmos, the meaning of life, and predestiny, somewhere after their seventh or perhaps tenth glass of the drink, Parvati had made a wise observation.

"Karma is a bitch."

And then she threw up.

Parvati had never been any great thinker, not like Padma, but she had been a strong believer in mysticism and spirituality and seemed to know what she was talking about. Lavender had to wonder now if truer words had ever been spoken. She had done Lovegood a dirty trick, now fate seemed to be evening the score. To put it bluntly, Karma was kicking her arse right about now.

"Oh look," Granger said bringing Lavender's focus back to her. "I see Molly up there with the children." She then waved as though trying to catch their attention.

Lavender looked up in the same direction as Granger, but couldn't see anything since they were probably too far away.

"You know, we had so much fun the other night; Violet, Felicity, Rosemary, and myself. It was an enjoyable girl's evening. Lizzie was beside herself and even Crookshanks seemed to enjoy the festivities, being the only bloke and all."

Lavender turned back towards Granger, but she still was looking through the omnioculars.

The afternoon of the Tea the three little girls stayed at the Hollow. Violet and Granger had worked out a shared custody agreement of sorts for the dumb cat (how could Lavender not have recognized that flat faced fleabag) and somehow Violet had managed to con Granger into inviting her and the other two girls along for the visit. Granger laughingly agreed to the manipulation. The children had enjoyed themselves so much that Violet had gone on and on about how much fun "Aunt Hermione" was for days after. Lavender nearly gave herself an aneurysm trying to keep from screaming. It would seem even her own child preferred her nemesis to her.

"You know, that Violet is quite the handful," Granger continued. "Reminds me of you a bit. Very...headstrong. A bit willful, but in children it can be cute."

Lavender growled at her. She started to throw a nasty retort right back at her, but Granger's next comment nearly knocked Lavender flat on her bottom.

"She looks just like her daddy however," continued Granger. She then turned towards Lavender and gave her a kneazle amongst the pixies grin.

Lavender's jaw dropped before she snapped it shut.

"I happen to think she looks more like myself and my Wallingford cousins," Lavender haughtily informed her as she smoothed down her hair. There, take that, wench!

"Well I guess with the all of the redheads in the Pye family you were pretty much covered either way, now weren't you?"

Lavender let out a horrified cry at these words. Before she could dissolve into a heap of tears right at the heartless bitch's feet, Harry came and thankfully interrupted them. A second more and there would have really been a scene.

"I hope I'm not intruding," he said as he carefully walked up behind Granger. The brunette froze at his voice before a look of regret crossed her features. She slowly turned around to face Harry and Ginny.

"Hi, Harry," she mumbled in a tiny, shame filled tone.

Lavender wondered why Granger even pretended to be remorseful. It was evident now that she knew! Lavender didn't know how she had found out, but there was no doubt that she knew. And that meant it was only a matter of time before she told Ron. And when she did that Ron would leave Lavender. He would never forgive her. And Granger would be there...waiting. Just like she had probably planned all along.

Lavender wondered how Granger would do it. Ask Ron to meet her somewhere far from prying eyes and gently kill all of his trust in his fiancée? Or perhaps she would wait until the wedding ceremony and drop the truth in front of the assembled guests. Yes, perhaps that was it. If the shoe had been on the other foot that's the way Lavender would have done it.

"Are you alright, Lavender?" she heard Harry ask. She looked into his kind green eyes and found that they were looking at her with concern. She saw his gaze briefly flicker towards Granger, a look of chastisement in his eyes, before he brought them back to her. Harry was so sweet. It wasn't his fault that his best friend was a world-class bitch.

"I'm just fine, Harry. Thanks," Lavender said with false cheerfulness. She then smiled at Ginny. "Hi Ginny; my, don't those robes look nice on you."

Ginny walked up to Lavender and planted a kiss on her cheek.

"I could say the same for you," she said. "Why hello there, Hermione," she continued coolly, acknowledging the other woman's presence finally.

Granger however took a moment to respond. She and Harry seemed to be having a wordless argument with their eyes. His looked disappointed, hers read belligerent. Both seemed like they were waiting for the other to surrender to their staring contest.

"Hello, Ginevra," Granger finally said as she tore her eyes away from Harry's. "Those are rather nice robes. You look quite smart in them."

Ginny smiled loftily.

"These old things?"

Lavender looked at Ginny questioningly for a moment before adopting a neutral expression. Lavender had been with Ginny in Gladrags when she bought those "old things". Lavender knew very well how much those "old things" cost. For Ginny's sake Lavender hoped that Harry never found the bill because Ginny would be wearing those "old things" until she was an old thing herself.

"That's a lovely dress by the way," Ginny replied back. "Where did you get it? Harry so loves it when I wear Muggle clothing," she said as she looped a possessive arm through her husband's. Lavender watched him stiffen. Granger did too; her eyes had drifted down to where the husband and wife were joined. Ginny pretended not to notice.

"Guess," Granger said as she raised her eyes to meet Ginny's.

The redhead's brow furrowed.

"Uh...I don't know, Kevin Klein?"

It took a moment for Granger to realize that it wasn't a joke. One of her eyebrows arched up in a superior way making Ginny's ears turn purple. Lavender decided to try and save her friend before she embarrassed herself further.

"Guess is actually a pricey Muggle designer brand and store," Lavender explained. Lavender, being the clothes horse that she was, often looked through Muggle catalogs and magazines. She considered it part of her Muggle studies to impress her future father-in-law. Lavender found that she actually liked most of the Muggle styles and had often tried some of them herself.

"And I think you meant Calvin Klein," she added.

Ginny quickly smiled. "Well it really makes you stand out from the rest of the crowd, Hermione. Calls real attention to you. But I guess that was the point."

Harry frowned at the remark.

"So, were you and Lavender having a nice chat?"

Ginny had looked between Hermione's stony face and Lavender's tear stained cheeks and had assessed the situation right away.

Granger opened her mouth to reply but Harry, stepping forward, cut her off.

"Can we talk?" He fleetingly looked back at Ginny and then turned back. "Alone."

His words were formed as a request, but by his tone it was clear that he wouldn't accept no for an answer. Ginny and Granger both balked at the question.

"Harry darling, we really should take our seats."

"I don't want to miss the game!" Granger protested.

"You barely can tell the difference between a Bludger and a Beater's bat," said Harry caustically. "Come along."

He grabbed her arm.

"But the game...OW!"

Harry had dragged her off behind him. He marched with his captive through the now thickening crowd, further down the railing from Lavender and Ginny.

"YOU PROMISED!" she heard Harry tell Granger.

"THE STUPID COW ASKED FOR IT!" she heard Granger's raised voice say before distance and the noise of the crowd swallowed the rest of the conversation.

"What do you suppose that was all about?" asked Ginny suspiciously as they disappeared from view.

"Don't know; don't care as long as Harry keeps her the hell away from me!"

Ginny took Lavender's hand.

"Listen Lav; do not let Hermione get to you. She's good for doing that. Never let her think that she has the upper hand."

"BUT SHE DOES, GINNY! IT'S JUST A MATTER OF TIME BEFORE SHE TAKES MY RON AWAY FROM ME AGAIN!"

"Well Ron would be an idiot if he allowed that to happen!" Ginny vehemently exclaimed.

She crossed in front of Lavender and continued to try and stare after Harry and Hermione. From their vantage point, all they could see every now and then as people passed back and forth was the two of their heads placed closely together. Ginny put a hand to her head and began to slowly massage the temple.

"After all, Ron wasn't good enough for her then, what would make him think he's good enough for her now?"

Lavender was taken aback by Ginny's hurtful remark. She stumbled and spluttered as she tried to refute what Ginny said. Before she could, Ginny held up a hand to halt her.

"Not that I feel that way, of course. I love my brother, for all I want to shake him at times," Ginny said affectionately. "But I hated the way that Hermione used to run rough shod over him. It was obvious that she thought herself too good to marry a Weasley. She just liked jerking Ron on her chain, seeing how often she could make him jump through her little hoop. She almost tried to get away with that with Harry until I put a stop to it."

Ginny smiled proudly when she said this.

"I had to let Hermione know who was boss when it came to Harry. You just have to do the same with Ron."

Although Ginny had never outright said it, through little things mentioned here and there Lavender had long ago gathered that Ginny had soured on her former friend. This was the first time that Lavender was really seeing it in action, though. First there was the stilted small talk from earlier. Now it seemed like Ginny was outright bashing Granger. From what Lavender could see, the other woman didn't seem particularly fond of Ginny anymore either. It was weird; Ginny had no real reason to hate Granger. Lavender wondered what could possibly be behind their hostility.

"Well that's easy for you to say," Lavender threw back at her. "Hermione Granger was never the great love of Harry's life."

Ginny snorted at the comment. "I should hope not!"

The two of them then fell into easy giggles over that. Unluckily, their moment of levity was short.

"Hullo, Red. Hullo, Pye!"

At the sound of the voice, Lavender and Ginny rolled their eyes in tandem, then turned to the right to greet their intruder.

"Daphne."

"Greengrass."

The dark eyed Slytherin witch came sauntering towards them, quill and notepad already drawn.

"How are the two luckiest witches in all of England faring this fine day?" she asked in a sugary sweet voice. Lavender had to bite down on her tongue not to say something biting to the woman. She had barely written three words in her column about her and Ron's Commencement ceremony, the hag!

"Just fine, Daphne," Ginny said diplomatically, smiling benignly. "And yourself?"

"Horrid!" said Greengrass as she pouted. "I've been looking all over these stands for a story to write and there is none to be found."

"No acts of depravity and debauchery to report on?" Lavender sarcastically muttered.

"No," the silly woman said with a crestfallen expression on her face.

Ginny hid her smile behind her hand.

"Did you know that the Quibbler's circulation is now gaining on the Prophet's?" Greengrass asked, as though shocked at the very idea. "Rita is in a lather over it. She told us that one of her reporters had better bring in a story worthy of the front page tomorrow or she was sacking the lot of us. I tell you what," she said conspiratorially as she leaned in closer to Ginny, "I have to wonder if Lovegood isn't putting subliminal charms behind those articles of hers. Why else would anyone actually read them?"

Good journalism, real sources, words larger than a five year old's vocabulary perhaps, thought Lavender contemptuously before she realized that she was actually defending the Ravenclaw.

I need to come out of the sun, she told herself.

"If I don't find a good story soon I might have to run with the little piece of goss I picked up from Eloise Midgen when we had lunch over at the Dragon's Egg yesterday."

Lavender's eyes practically popped out of her head and she swallowed nervously.

"Pye, when was the last time you talked to Midgen?" Greengrass asked tauntingly.

"Uh," said Lavender, voice raising an octave as she looked guiltily at Ginny, then quickly away. "I don't remember."

Although she did. It was just the other afternoon. She might have invited Eloise and her baby over for a visit. And she might have made her and Eloise's cups of tea a little too "Irish" when she doused them both with Ogden's as they settled in for a chat. And she might have let it slip what Ron told her about the Potters sleeping in separate beds. She might have.

Shite.

"You could always interview Ron," Lavender quickly proposed. "Once the Wasps wipe the pitch with Appleby that is," she said with a smile. "I might even be able to arrange it for you."

"Oh, that's sweet, Pye. But I'm looking for something a little more...oh, I don't know...interesting."

The smile on Lavender's face plummeted to the ground.

"Like that hot little number talking to your husband down there, Red," Daphne said as she looked around the other two women. Her eyes were bright with interest at a possible story. "Is she a tourist? Americans seem to like dressing up like Muggles while they are over here on Holiday. Is she a friend of either of yours?"

Lavender and Ginny shared loaded glances. Neither was sure just what to say to Daphne. The answer to both questions was no, but it seemed inappropriate to say that.

"I hope everything is ok in the marriage, Red," said Daphne with a smirk, catching on to their unease.

Lavender looked uncomfortable. Ginny huffed indignantly. Daphne ignored it, though. She gave Ginny's shoulder a squeeze and let her hand rest there boldly.

"You know, if you ever need a shoulder, I'm here for you." She then displayed two sets of sharp white teeth.

Lavender wondered if a diver saw a similar image right before he was swallowed whole by a Great White. Ginny however was saved just in the nick of time.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN...WELCOME! WELCOME TO THE FINAL FOR THE BRITISH NATIONAL CUP!"

The sound of clapping and wild screams filled the air. The game was about to get under way.

"It's been a joy talking to you, Greengrass," Lavender said in a syrupy tone. "But Ginny and I really need to go take our seats with our family. The game is about to start. Ta!"

Lavender then grabbed Ginny by the arm and steered her away from the railing and over to the Family and Friends section.

"She has no shame," said Ginny in an awed voice.

"Told you she was trying to get in your knickers," replied Lavender shrewdly.

After fighting their way through the mass of people who were struggling to make it to their seats as well, they eventually found Bill, Fleur, Fred, Glinda, Percy, and Penelope. Arthur and Molly were sitting with all of the children in one of the higher level boxes, and Charlie and George were sitting with the players. As the two women scooted their way to their seats, Lavender's mood had started to improve.

Then she noticed that Luna Lovegood was also sitting with the Weasley group. For whatever reasons that was beyond Lavender, the Loon and Ron had remained friends even after their break-up. Ginny sat down next to her and politely asked after her boyfriend. Lovegood pointed to the stands opposite from them. Lavender wondered why she couldn't have sat with the arse as well. She barely nodded to acknowledge the other blonde's presence. She wasn't on speaking terms with Lovegood. The batty woman had sent over a truly monstrous engagement gift and Ron was actually contemplating placing the "artwork" in their future home. He thought it was a riot.

While Ginny and Lovegood fell into pleasant conversation, Lavender chose to focus on the pitch instead. When Appleby's starting team was being announced to the sound of thunderous applause, Harry finally wandered over with a cagey expression on his face. Lavender made way for him on the bench so he could sit next to his wife.

"Hermione isn't going to sit with us?" Ginny asked her husband as he plopped down next to her. Lavender couldn't tell whether it was really a question or a statement.

"No," was the only gruff response she got.

"Oh," said Ginny brightly as she smiled at her husband. "That's too bad."

Harry missed the smile it was said with. He was craning his neck towards the direction of the railing, trying to keep his eyes on Granger.

"NOW LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, KINDLY WELCOME THE HIGHEST SCORING TEAM IN THE LEAGUE--THE WIMBOURNE WASPS!"

The cheering became near deafening. Lavender clapped her little hands so hard that they ached.

"I GIVE YOU-ADDISON!"

On their side of the stadium a black and yellow clad figure on a broomstick came zooming out onto the field. Their section of the stands actually felt as though it were vibrating with all of the Wasp supporters' excitement.

"IKEMAN! PEPPERS! QUIMBY! TALBOT! VERDON-HALL!"

With each name that was announced the crowd was whipped into frenzy. Lavender's skin seemed to tingle from the thrill of it all. All that was left was just one more name to call out.

"You know, I don't think it's such a smart idea for Hermione to be standing at that railing like that," Glinda said as she shared an uneasy look with Harry. Harry stared at her mutely for a second before some sort of comprehension snapped into place.

"Oh shite! HERMIONE!"

Harry jumped from his seat and bolted in the direction of his friend.

But it was too late.

"AND LAST, BUT CERTAINLY NOT LEAST-WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASLYYYYYYY!"

Quick as a shot, a yellow and black blur came flying out onto the pitch. In a split second the heavy stomping of feet made the stands tremble as dozens of young women and men headed towards the railing singing.

"Weasley is our king,

Weasley is our king

He won't let the Quaffle in

Weasley is our king.

Weasley can save anything,

He never leaves a single ring,

That's why Wasp fans always sing

Weasley is our king."

Ron's more avid fans, "The Red Heads", as they called themselves, had adopted the song as their own not too long after Ron began playing for Wimbourne. Not one game went by when they did not serenade their hero with his song as he confidently took the pitch. They usually would rush to the railing on the side where the players would come out; a mob of people with hair charmed to match the flame color of the Keeper. No one wanted to be in their way when they launched into their fight song. Oftentimes innocent bystanders got tossed around or even bruised and battered if they happened to get trapped in the mêlée.

When Lavender first started climbing into the stands she joked to herself that it looked like a Weasley family convention. With it being such an important game the fan turnout was enormous. Now, with all of The Red Heads converging near the railing, it looked like there were an avalanche of Weasleys pouring down from the heavens...directly in Granger's direction.

Maybe they'll do me a favor and just push her off, Lavender mused archly to herself. Glinda's voice however interrupted her dark thoughts.

"JESUS!" shouted Glinda as she stood up. "SHE'S GOING TO BE CRUSHED!"

Their small party was all looking in Granger's direction now, horrified. She had whipped her sunshades off and the expression on her face made it quite clear what she was feeling as Granger realized the danger of the situation. Terror. Her mouth was contorted in a scream to form Harry's name, but it couldn't be heard over the commotion of the crowd.

"Don't worry," said Lovegood serenely. "Ronald won't let anything happen to Hermione."

No one else seemed to hear Lovegood say this, but Lavender did. For some reason those cryptic words made Lavender's chest seize painfully as she looked at the other woman wondrously. Her view was then blocked when Ginny agitatedly jumped to her feet. With her attention being drawn from Lovegood, Lavender followed suit.

"HARRY, COME BACK! YOU'LL GET TRAMPLED IN THERE! YOU'LL NEVER GET TO HER IN TIME!"

Ginny's words turned out to be prophetic. As the crowd of fans pressed themselves closer and closer to the railing, the sound of bending metal was heard. In mere seconds the rail in front of Granger gave way with a soul chilling groan. Before Lavender's hands could reach up and cover her eyes, she saw her competition fall over the edge.

It could have been a greater tragedy that day, more people had started to slide through after Granger, but the shoddy safety charms that were supposed to prevent such an accident from happening finally kicked in keeping the rest of the startled mass from going over. But that hardly made an impression on Lavender's guilty conscience.

Dear Merlin, I've killed her.

That was the first thought that came to her before Lavender's feverish mind began shouting the same mantra repeatedly.

I take it back! I take it back! I didn't mean it! I didn't really mean for Hermione to die! Oh Ron, forgive me!

The noise level in the stadium was the equivalent of a sonic boom. All one could hear were screaming, shouting, and the sound of children crying. The Announcer, Lee Jordan, was trying to calm everyone down and regain order, but even with a Sonorus he could barely be heard above the din.

Lavender wondered if she would be deaf by the end of the day. For a moment there, when she finally dropped her hands from her face, she had actually thought she had gone blind. All she saw was hundreds of bright points of light. She assumed that some higher power was punishing her immediately for wishing for her rival's death, even if it had been said in jest. But as her eyes slowly came into focus, she realized that what she had been seeing was actually dozens upon dozens of flash bulbs going off.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, YOU ARE WITNESSING A MONUMENTAL MOMENT," Lee's voice boomed across the stadium. "IT LOOKS LIKE RONALD WEASLEY DECIDED TO PLAY HIS HAND AT SEEKING TODAY. BUT INSTEAD OF THE SNITCH HE CAUGHT A BIRD!"

The relieved crowd erupted into laughter and exultant cheers. Lavender however had little to smile about. Her lips were in a straight line as she watched her fiancé flying away from the side of the stands where the rail broke. In his arms was cradled his ex-girlfriend who appeared to be unconscious. Harry, who had apparently brought his broom with him, was flying next to them.

"AND IN ANOTHER INTERESTING TURN OF EVENTS, HARRY POTTER IS ON THE FIELD! WHY POTTER IS ON THE FIELD WE DON'T QUITE KNOW YET, BUT THE LAST TIME HE AND WEASLEY FLEW ON A QUIDDITCH PITCH AT THE SAME TIME WAS JANUARY 2001. WHAT A DAY FOR SURPRISES FOLKS!"

Suddenly the image of the two men flying side by side was put up on the huge scoreboard near the Announcer's box. Nearly all of the spectators jumped to their feet and began furiously applauding. The sound of that was all that was needed to rouse Granger from her faint. Her head slowly began to rise up, and as she opened her eyes, her shell shocked face was what filled up the screen next.

A collective gasp rose up from the spellbound audience.

"SWEET FANCY MERLIN!" Lee shouted excitedly. "IS THAT HERMIONE GRANGER?!"

Lavender slowly lowered herself into her seat although those around her were still standing. She closed her eyes. She tried to tell herself that she closed her eyes to spare them from the glare of all of the tiny camera flashbulbs going off continuously. Really it was to hold back any renegade tears that tried to slip past her shut lids.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE GOLDEN TRIO OF GRIFFINDOR RIDES AGAIN!"

Well, at least Greengrass got her story, Lavender bitterly thought.

And what a story! The game had been four days ago yet England was still all abuzz over it. It hardly mattered that the Wasps had won the match by 80 points, or that Ron had been on fire blocking just about every goal; all anyone could to talk about was Granger's sudden reemergence into the magical world. More importantly, everyone wanted to know the significance of her timing.

The editor at Witch Weekly stopped the presses so that the next day the front page featured a picture of Ron flying under Granger as she fell from the sky. In the picture he caught her over and over again. GRANGER'S BACK, BUT CAN HE KEEP-HER, was the title of their story.

The Daily Prophet decided to take a slightly different approach. HERMIONE COMES HOME(WRECKING), the paper said the morning after the game. For six pages it detailed every true and untrue exploit of the woman's love life. Monday's headline read: WEASLEY WEDDING WILD CARD; WILL THEY OR WON'T THEY. A picture of Ron and Lavender taken at their Commencement ceremony smiled out from it as Lavender's black and white image sneaked adoring peeks at her fiancé. Set right next to it for comparison was a picture of Ron and Granger as they danced at Harry and Ginny's Ending Party the night before their wedding. Both of them looked heartbroken. Granger's head rested on Ron's shoulder and every few moments he would place his lips in her hair and kiss the top of her head. It was gag worthy!

The tabloids like Accio! and the Dublin Daily Comet had all run similar articles within the past few days. The story was even being featured in the Observer in France, the Iron Quill in Bulgaria, and in the International Seer which was sold world wide. The Quibbler was not left out either, though their piece was buried all the way on page ten the first day and page fifteen the next. After that they dropped it, but the other rags didn't. Every day they seemed to pose the same question; just how long would it be before Ron Weasley chucked his current fiancée for his former flame. Lavender was left wondering the same thing.

"There, there my dear," said the Madame as Lavender continued to sob on her shoulder. She held the younger woman to her tightly, brushing her hair back gently, as she whispered words of endearment in Lavender's ears. After a few minutes Lavender, feeling spent, pulled back from the older witch and tearfully gave her a self-conscious smile.

"Sorry," she said. "Now I've ruined your robes too."

The Madame laughed.

"Cara, this is nothing that won't be cured by a freshening spell."

The Madame then flicked her wand at herself and Lavender and instantaneously their clothes were in order. She then pocketed her wand.

"Now you tell Filomena what is wrong."

For close to an hour Lavender poured out her very soul to the woman. She told the Madame about how she first came to date Ron. When she had gotten a good look at him at the start of Sixth Year she thought he had gotten quite fanciable over the summer, but the real reason for her sudden interest in Ron Weasley was connected to Granger. Lavender had grown tired of the way that Little Miss Prefect acted as though she barely tolerated associating with Parvati and herself. In the beginning Lavender and Parv honestly tried to reach out to their other room mate; they offered her cosmetic advice, tried to help her with that dreadful hair of hers, even generously included her in all of their late night boy talks, but Granger acted as though she were too good to associate with the other two Gryffindor girls.

Things completely went south between them at the start of Fifth Year. True Lavender had let herself get swept up in all of the mounting anti-Harry hysteria, and she might have accused him of lying about You-Know-Who's return, but she did not deserve the telling off that Granger meted out to her. From that day on she acted as though she had nothing but disdain for Lavender. Lavender, wanting to try and make her see that all was forgiven even joined the DA later, but the damage had already been done. Lavender had maligned Harry, and in Granger's opinion was no longer worthy of her attention.

At first this bothered Lavender. She hated the idea of someone, anyone, not liking her. But eventually a bit of the prideful nature she had inherited from her mother came to the forefront. If Granger thought she was so much better than her, Lavender would strike back at her where it would hurt the most. She'd show her!

"I just never intended on falling in love with him," said Lavender pitifully as she dried her face with a handkerchief the Madame handed her.

"How does that Muggle song go? Love happen when you are busy making other plans," the Madame chuckled.

Lavender sniffed.

"It's life," she corrected her. "John Lennon. Don't ask me how I know that," Lavender continued smiling bashfully.

"Ah yes, but the sentiment is the same, no?"

"I thought that finally Ron and I would have a real chance, but with the ex back in the picture I might as well give up. He would never choose me over her. She's his soul mate."

"Says who?"

"Glenda Chittock. She dedicated an hour of sappy love songs to them last night on the wireless."

The Madame tutted at her answer.

"And you think that this woman you dislike so is your fiancé's soul mate because of that?"

"She was his first love."

"First love does not necessarily mean forever love."

Lavender sighed.

"Well maybe Ron and I weren't meant to be a forever kind of love. Maybe I've been just a placeholder all of this time. Maybe I should just do the adult thing and step out of the way; let Ron and Hermione be together."

Though it might kill me, thought Lavender sadly as she fidgeted with her sleeves.

The Madame stared at her for what seemed like ages. Lavender began to feel foolish under the scrutinizing green eyes. She began to bounce her weight from foot to foot nervously and was about to ask the Madame if everything was alright when the woman broke the silence herself.

"Did you know that the ancient Greeks are the ones who came up with this whole ridiculous nonsense of soul mates? They once believed that the original human race had been created with four arms, four legs, and a single head that contained two faces."

Lavender's face screwed up in confusion at the odd turn of the conversation. The only response that she could come up with was, "Eww."

The Madame's eyes glittered mirthfully.

"Zeus, a drama queen if ever there were one, thought this race of mortals were far too powerful. So he split them up. For the rest of their lives the two halves were doomed to search endlessly for each other to feel whole."

"That's...depressing."

"Very," said the Madame. "And quite an over-simplification of love in my opinion," she continued. "Don't get me wrong bella; I do believe there are people who simply belong together. But to call them soul mates...cheapens it. I fall more towards the belief that love is an organic, living thing. It needs nourishment to live and thrive. If tended, given light and air, and allowed to grow; love can last forever."

Lavender was captivated by the Madame's speech. She felt as though she could hardly breathe. In her mind's eye all she could see was Ron's smiling face as the old witch talked on.

"There is another side, though. Love can also be smothered or starved to death. It can be neglected and ignored; left out in the cold to die, leaving only a frozen, shriveled corpse behind."

She then placed a soothing hand on Lavender's cheek and patted it.

"Do you understand what I mean?" she asked.

Lavender bewilderedly shook her head. The Madame only smiled.

"That's alright, you're still so young," she told her. "What I mean is that you have to work for real love and most importantly lay all of your trust in it. Do you love your Signor Weasley, cara?"

"Madly!" Lavender said fervently.

"Then you never give up on him. Trust in him," she said simply as she looked into Lavender's eyes. "And if you can do that you two are what is meant to be."

Lavender saw the sincere affection for her in the Madame's eyes and nearly wept because of it. But she was no longer depressed and unhappy. Instead the Madame's words had invigorated her. Her belief that she and Ron belonged together was renewed and the thought of that seemed to fill her with lightness.

"Thank you, Madame!" Lavender gushed as she pulled the Madame into a tight hug.

"Filomena," corrected the Madame lightheartedly as she squeezed Lavender back. Lavender giggled as she pulled back from her.

"Filomena. Thank you. Thank you! Thank you so much!"

"It is my pleasure, cara. I've been in this business far too long not to know when a couple is meant to be. With you and your Signor Weasley there was never a question."

"Thank you," Lavender softly said again.

She then realized that her mother and sister must have been wondering what was taking her so long. It seemed like she had been hiding in the changing room for hours.

"I guess it's time I took these off," she said referring to the wedding robes she still had on.

"Before you do I would just like to see something," said the Madame as she dashed out of the room.

A minute later she was coming back through the curtains. In her hands was a garland of small white flowers. The woman held it to her chest reverently for a moment before she approached Lavender.

"When I got married..." the Madame paused to smother a giggle, "eons ago...I wore a wreath on my head made of Madagascar jasmine. This was it. Stephanotis. They symbolize marital happiness. Most brides prefer to wear the traditional veil. In the years long passed, a young girl about to be wed would meet her future husband head bare, hair tumbling down her back. It was a sign that she was his virgin, pure and untouched. Somewhere along the line we witches adopted our Muggle counterpart's use of the veil to represent our virtue. But when I married my husband I chose to wear this."

She lifted the wreath to Lavender's head. Lavender barely blinked an eye as she bowed her head to receive it.

"I wanted to see my love clearly as I came down the aisle. I wanted to see my future as I walked towards it."

The Madame turned Lavender around so she could see herself. Lavender barely noticed the few tears that slid down her face as she looked at the fairy princess, now turned queen, before her.

"There," said the Madame as she smiled at Lavender. "Magnifico! Just as lovely as I thought it would be."

With tears still glistening in her eyes, Lavender tore her gaze away from the mirror.

"Madame, could you please tell my mum that I've found the robes I'll be wearing when I get married."

The Madame could barely contain her glee.

"Signora Brown-Pye, it would be my pleasure."

~~**~~ ~~**~~

After leaving Blissful Brides, Lavender decided to pop over to see Ron; the Madame's advice still ringing in her ears. She Apparated into his and George's flat, but was dismayed to find that he wasn't there. To quiet her mind she decided to try and straighten the place; the two young men were anything but neat freaks. She washed all of the dirty dishes in the kitchen and vanished the trash, put all of Ron's Quidditch training robes in the hamper to be laundered, and dusted around the living room. Once that was done she settled on the couch to wait for Ron.

She waited all of six minutes before she pulled out her two-way mirror to see where he was...and just who was with him. As she opened the little pink compact and spoke Ron's name into it, she prayed that he wasn't with his ex-girlfriend.

"Lav?" came Ron's voice from the mirror as Lavender saw his tiny image appear. She smiled down at it.

"Hi, luv," she said trying to control her trembling lips.

"How'd things with your mum go? Was Lenore on her best behavior? I don't have to give her another talking to, do I?" he asked as his eyes twinkled. Ron knew just how much her mother could get under her skin.

"No. Everything was fine; no blood shed."

Ron laughed.

"So where are you?"

"The flat." Lavender paused to gather her strength and ask her own question. "And you?" she squeaked.

"The pitch," was Ron's reply making Lavender exhale gratefully. "Which Broomstick wants me for the next cover! Can you believe it?! Me! It was a last minute thing. I've been taking pictures all day." His words came out in an excited rush.

"That's fabulous, Ron!" she said as she shared in his infectious happiness. "Sounds like we'll be celebrating tonight."

"Lav!" a scandalized Ron said in a mocking tone. "I'm not that kind of a wizard."

"Don't be so cheeky. You don't get that again until we're officially man and wife," she said giggling. "I'm going to fix you a feast tonight, everything that's your favorite."

Ron however didn't seem too enthused at the idea. That was odd. Sometimes the smell of a simple roast could get Ron to do some mundane chore or run some errand that even the kinkiest piece of lingerie imaginable could not.

"What's wrong? My tenderloin with the pineapple mango salsa is usually enough to get you to carry my shopping bags all through Diagon," she teased.

Lavender's excellent culinary skills however didn't seem enough to tempt Ron. He had other plans apparently.

"Can I get a rain check, hon?" he asked. "It's just that I was going to go over to Remus' with Hermione and Harry later. That is if it's alright with you," he quickly added. "Is it alright with you?" he asked nervously.

Lavender put on her perkiest face and lied through her teeth.

"Of course it is."

"Are you sure?"

Lavender bravely nodded her head.

"You're the best!" said Ron as his worried face broke into a smile of relief. "Then I'll see you tomorrow?"

She absently nodded her head up and down again.

"Great! Then I have to go, sweetheart," he said before quickly ending their call.

With a soft click, the two-way was closed.

"Love you too," she said meekly.

What was Lavender to do? Her fiancé was off gallivanting with a woman who had designs on him. It was painfully obvious. Everyone else might have bought into Granger's little story about wanting to come home, but Lavender would not be taken in.

Granger's whole act reeked of a pathetic last ditch effort to win Ron back; the glamour girl make-over, the expensive looking clothes, the money she was throwing around like there was no tomorrow. Granger's bitten down nails of old gave way to perfectly manicured hands now. The former Plain Jane wore nothing but designer labels and was dripping in jewels. Holy hippogriffs, she had a diamond around her neck that was roughly the size of Rubeus Hagrid's thumbnail! And for a woman with no job, and seemingly no intent to get one, she spent money as liberally as though it would never dry up.

Lavender had pointed this last fact out to Ron when they agreed to meet a few of the family for drinks and dinner at Presto's, Granger's treat. Well, Ron was the one who had actually done the accepting. Granger claimed that she wanted to thank Ron for saving her life. I'll bet she wants to "thank" him, thought Lavender. Probably would try to "thank" him under the table if she could get away with it, the tramp. Lavender was determined not to let Ron out of her sight the whole night.

"Hermione's always had money," Ron explained easily. "Her parents were like some kind of Healers, but for your teeth. Apparently Muggle teeth Healers make a killing."

"I think she's up to something," said Lavender as she tried to plant a seed of doubt in Ron's mind concerning Granger's true motives. He wasn't buying it, though. He actually snapped at her harshly.

"DROP IT LAVENDER!"

When they got to Presto's later that evening there had been a brief delay at the door. The maître d' had actually refused to seat them before he recognized who Ron was. After bowing and scraping accordingly, he showed them to the table where their group was waiting.

Harry, Hermione, Glinda, and Fred were seated on one side of the booth while George and Charlie sat across from them. When they reached the group, Fred and George burst into laughter while the rest of the table's occupants stared at her and Ron in stunned silence.

Though Lavender had come dressed in one of her prettiest robes, Ron's get-up was a complete contrast to hers. On his feet was a pair of expensive trainers that were unlaced. His jeans were at least three sizes too big and they hung off of him revealing the garter of his boxers with the frolicking green dragons. Though Lavender loved his muscular arms, she didn't think it was appropriate to have them on such display in his sleeveless white singlet. But the topper, the thing that completed the entire ridiculous costume, was the brimmed cap Ron had cocked to an angle on his head. On it was printed the message, "I Break for Fat Chicks". Lavender had no idea what that even meant.

It was Granger who eventually broke the silence.

"Well hello there, K-Fed."

Glinda threw her head back as a merry stream of tears slid down her face. Her whole body shook as she struggled not to laugh out loud. It was a losing battle.

"Huh?" Ron looked at Glinda and then Granger inquiringly before shaking his head. "You know what, never mind. Knowing you two it can't be good."

The men's laughter soon joined Glinda and Granger's.

"Merlin's Beard, Ron!" exclaimed Charlie as he eyed his youngest brother up and down. "Why on Earth are you dressed like that? The seat of your trousers is dragging the floor. I hope you won't let mum see you like that."

Ron looked at Charlie as though he were insane.

"ARE YOU DAFT?!"

He and Lavender slid into the plush vermilion love seat-like booth next to Charlie and George.

"I had an interview with a big time celebrity reporter from the States today," Ron told the table excitedly. After being congratulated by everyone, Glinda asked Ron the name of the publication he was going to be featured in.

"Warlock's Quarterly," Lavender answered for him, eyes filled with pride.

Those eyes then narrowed as she set Fred and George in her sights. Their amusement quickly dried up. They each slunk back in their seats and tried to avoid her gaze.

"Ron's dressed like a vagrant however because someone…"

She looked at Fred.

"...and his idiot brother…"

She looked at George.

"...convinced Ron that this was what wizards over in the States wore." Lavender then crossed her arms before her angrily.

Harry guffawed loudly as he teased Ron.

"You just never learn, do you mate? Taking any kind of a suggestion from those two is never a good idea."

"Well they were right actually," Granger said. "I often saw people who were so obviously magical and they were rarely ever wearing robes. None of them kept it as...um...'gangsta'," she paused to smother a chortle, "as all of that, though."

Glinda burst out laughing again.

"Eh, the writer thought it was funny," Ron replied, unaffected by the ribbing. "He loved me. What was it he said, 'Ron Weasley is a bona fide star in his own right now'. Saving your arse yesterday didn't hurt either." He winked at Hermione.

Lavender pursed her lips irritably.

"You're welcome. Next time I'll arrange to be tied to a set of railroad tracks."

Ron laughed, stood up to bend across the table, and laid a smacking kiss on Granger's forehead. She squirmed and tossed her head back and forth complaining about icky boy germs. Harry hooted at their act. Lavender didn't think it was all that funny, though. For all Ron was ignoring his fiancée, he would have been showing the whole restaurant all of his lily white arse if it hadn't been for her! When he had refused to change his get up after the interview she cast a spell so that his pants would at least stay up.

A waiter came to take their drink orders. Ron and Fred's drink of choice was Firewhiskey. Harry, George, and Charlie ordered a large pitcher of beer; 'Ye Olde Troll. Granger asked to see the wine list. After perusing it for a few moments and seeing that the restaurant had some Muggle varieties, she asked for a bottle of the Chateau d'Yquem. Glinda licked her lips; she seemed to approve of Hermione's selection. Not that they offered; Lavender preferred to have a Blue Fairitini herself.

When the drinks were floated out, the whole table wasted no time getting properly sloshed. Glinda and Granger practically had the bottle of wine emptied in minutes. With every glass Glinda's mouth got filthier and filthier while Granger's giggles rose higher and higher. She sounded like a hyena. The men were content to just sit back and let the two women dominate the conversation. Feeling left out, Lavender silently nursed her drink.

"Oh my God! Oh my God! OH MY GOD!"

Glinda was practically standing up in her seat. She was gawking at a very attractive man and his date who were seated far across the room.

"Is that Jude Law sitting over there?" she asked in wonder.

Granger craned her neck to see who Glinda was referring to.

"Looks like. Little Miss Size Two however does not appear to be his fiancée. Men!"

"I do believe I resemble that remark," quipped George.

Granger threw her napkin ring at him.

Glinda was still reeling from her discovery.

"Do you mean to tell me that Jude-bleeding-Law is a wizard?!" she asked as she looked around the table.

"Well, yes," Granger answered. She shrugged her shoulders. "I thought everyone knew that. I mean come on; he was in like fifty movies in this last year alone. That bloke has got a Time-Turner stashed somewhere or my name is Pythia the Portly. And it's not."

"I remember Law," shared Charlie after tipping back his mug. "He was a Hufflepuff in my year. Never met a mirror that he didn't like. He ended up leaving Hogwarts midterm; said that the yellow in his robes clashed with his eyes."

"A valid complaint if ever there were one," said Glinda with a nod of her head making Granger giggle. "Goodness, he is utterly fuckable."

Ron's jaw nearly hit the table. He looked across it towards his brother.

"FRED! Are you just going to stand by and let your wife talk like that in front of you?!"

Glinda folded her arms and sneered at Ron. "And just what is he supposed to do about it Fifty Pence? Put me 'cross his knee and spank me?"

George snorted.

"She'd enjoy that too much."

Fred pulled his wife close to his side and grinned.

"It's alright. Law is on the list, right?" When Glinda nodded her head he added, "He's allowed then."

"Allowed?" questioned Charlie.

"What list?" asked Harry. Lavender had to admit she was curious too.

"Oh nothing too big, Freddy and I each just put together a list of the three people we both are allowed to shag if ever given the opportunity."

It took a moment for the statement to sink in.

"You're both bloody bonkers."

"Hang on Ron; it's genius if you think about it really," said Fred. "You can't cheat if the person isn't on the list."

"That sounds like Vengadasalaam reasoning if ever I've heard it."

Glinda pointed her middle finger at her friend. Lavender was pretty damned sure that she wasn't telling Granger that she was number 1. Granger found the whole thing hilarious, though.

"So who made your illustrious Top Three?" she asked as she licked a droplet of the spirit off of her bottom lip. Out of the corner of her eyes Lavender saw Harry shift in his seat with discomfort.

"Are you ok, Harry?" Lavender asked him.

Everyone turned to look at Harry.

"Uh, y-yes," he managed to get out before lowering his voice and answering the question again. Feeling uncomfortable with everyone's attention on him, he turned to Glinda.

"So...erm...list..."

"Well, pretty boy Law, for one. He's at the very bottom, though. It used to be Hayden Christensen; I mean who wouldn't want that light saber pointing at them? But I began to feel like a letch lusting after such a young boy."

Granger scoffed. "You're not that old."

"No, but he looks like he has no hair down there. Hair down there is very important."

"Here, here!" responded Granger as she raised her drink in toast. The two of them then clinked their wine goblets together.

"HERMIONE!" cried Harry and Ron. They sounded shocked, horrified, and a trifle amused; all at the same time.

"If I had a set of pearls I'd be clutching them right about now," Harry joked, causing her to giggle louder.

Harry shook his head.

"That's it young lady, no more wine for you."

He reached for her glass.

"But I've only had three," Granger whinged as she tried to throw back the remaining drabbles in her glass. Harry eventually rested it away from her.

"I know. I should have taken the bottle away from you two glasses ago," he said lightly as he placed his lips on the goblet where her faint lipstick print was, and drank the rest of its contents. The action came off oddly intimate and rather sensual to Lavender. Granger seemed in a daze as she watched the muscles in Harry's neck cord, then undulate as the liquid went down.

Ron's voice seemed to finally shake her from her spell.

"I don't think I like the idea of you women trying to turn us poor blokes into sexual objects," Ron said sarcastically as he motioned for the waiter to refill his tumbler.

They all laughed, Granger the loudest. What was she trying to prove? Show-off!

Lavender made a show of grabbing hold of Ron's hand as he brought it back to the table. Ron gave her a bemused smile, but patted her hand tenderly as he turned his attention to his newly freshened mug. Lavender knew Granger had been paying attention to it all because she rolled her eyes.

"You know, I don't think I would mind it so much," Charlie said mirthfully. "Being treated as a sex object, that is. Turnabout is fair play as they say, right?"

He looked across the table at Granger and she grinned and nodded her head.

"Well I say objectify me all you want. Hell, until you're blue in the face! And twice on Sundays, if you like."

Granger laughed uproariously as did Glinda, Fred, George, and Ron. Harry didn't seem to find it as amusing, though.

"Charlie, you flirt!" Granger scolded in jest. Charlie did his best to look angelic.

Harry once again tried to steer the conversation back on track, this time a little more aggressively. His tone was annoyed as he said, "As you were saying Glinda."

"Well Colin Firth is my number two."

Granger's eyes rolled to the back of her head as she closed them languidly.

"Mmm…Mr. Darcy. Good choice!"

"I know! That's the kind of man you'd give up Jimmy Choos, indoor plumbing, and suffrage for."

Lavender couldn't stop herself from laughing then. Despite her reluctance from earlier, she found herself slipping into the ease of the conversation and enjoying it greatly. She even shocked herself by understanding a good deal of what Granger and Glinda were talking about.

"So who's number one then, Glinda?" she asked, joining in the easy-going fun. Glinda's eyes twinkled at Lavender as she answered her.

"James Bond."

Granger's brow furrowed.

"Pierce Brosnan?"

"No, James Bond."

"Oh, you mean Sean Connery," she tried again.

"NO!" said Glinda irritably as she poured herself out another glass of the d'Yquem. "I mean James-bloody-Bond! You know, shaken, not stirred and all that."

"But you do realize-"

"Believe me Blondie, she realizes," Fred snickered.

"So who made the cut for you, Fred?" asked Charlie. Fred wasted no time in answering. The names rolled off his tongue as easily as his jinxes.

"Elikapeka Kapulani, Inez Toledo, and Nwadinobi Ouedraogo."

Granger's bewildered expression changed once Harry filled the details in for her.

"Chasers for the Oahu Balls of Fire, the Guadalajara Gravediggers, and the Seeker for the Silver Spears of Swaziland."

"Oh."

Once that sunk in she turned in her seat to look at Glinda.

"The level of thought that you two have put behind all of this is frightening."

"Thank you." Glinda didn't even miss a beat. She then nudged Fred. "But dear husband of mine, don't think I didn't see you practically licking the screen the other night when we were watching Die Another Day."

If Fred was ashamed of his actions his playful grin didn't belie it.

"That Berry chit isn't that hard on the eyes, I must admit."

"Yes, yes luv. But unless one of those other little bitches gets chucked the hell off poor Halle just won't make the cut, now will she?"

She then kissed him grandly on the lips as everyone at the table laughed. Fred pulled her in closer.

"I take it all back," said Ron as he shook his head. "The both of you are so far from bonkers that you're not even in the same room with it anymore."

The couple however ignored him and everyone else around them. Lavender had thought it a cute moment. Then Granger had to go and completely ruin it.

"Aww, I think it's kind of sweet. It's like the two of them got to marry their best friend. Who wouldn't want that? I know I would," she wistfully said, watching Fred and Glinda snog away. There was only a hint of envy in her voice, but Lavender caught it.

She might as well have thrown the gauntlet down. But at last Lavender had indisputable evidence that Granger was after Ron again. And she wasn't the only one who knew.

Lavender had caught the way Harry's head snapped towards Granger when she had spoken. Granger didn't notice because she was too busy talking to Charlie across the table. Harry appeared to study her for a moment before retreating into himself. It looked like something was working itself out in his head and he was trying to make sense of it. Feeling eyes on him, Harry looked across the table at Lavender and then reddened when their eyes met. Guiltily, he swiftly cut his eyes away from hers.

Probably coming to the realization that his best mate is a slag of the first order, thought Lavender bitterly.

And not a very smart one, for all her hype. The alcohol seemed to have loosened Granger's tongue to the point that she let that one slip by. Really, what best friend could she have been talking about?

But in a way Lavender was glad that it was all out in the open. The battle lines could be clearly drawn now. The only question was just how to handle the situation. She couldn't bad mouth Granger to Ron, he wouldn't stand for it. She couldn't outright accuse her or tell her off like Ginny suggested; Granger might then bring up things that Lavender rather not have made public. Just what could she do to make sure that Ron stayed with her? That he knew that she was the right one for him? What would it take? What would Lavender have to do?

She felt a warm, calloused hand gently stroke her cheek. She opened her eyes and saw a pair of blue eyes lovingly staring down at her.

"Ron," she groggily murmured as she pressed her cheek into the caress. She felt a weight settle beside her.

"No, it is I, your Argentinean lover Rrrrrrrr-amon."

Lavender pressed down on her lips tightly so as not to smile.

"Well Rrrrrrrr-amon, as much as it hurts me to have to tell you this, I don't think you're really from Argentina. Your accent is the worst I've ever heard."

"Ah, that is only because you are not to be hearing my Sanjay from Calcutta yet," said Ron in a horrible Punjab accent which made the Latin one sound authentic in comparison.

"You are a nut," she said as she playfully swatted his arm.

They both laughed.

"Yeah, but I'm your nut."

Her head felt giddy and light at his words.

Lavender took her eyes off of him for a moment and pulled herself up into a reclining position on the couch, leaning back on her bent arms. She realized that she must have fallen asleep in the flat after she talked to him earlier. Ron was sitting next to her.

"It's still light outside."

"It's only four."

Her brows furrowed. "I thought you were going over to Mr. Lupin's," she said.

"I was. But then your voice kept playing over and over again in my head. You sounded so sad. So I decided to ditch Harry and Hermione and spend time with you instead," he said, giving her a quirky grin.

"With me?" Lavender asked, eyes going glossy with tears.

"Yeah, with you," he said as though there was little doubt. "I mean more than likely all we would have wound up doing was talking about the good old days anyways. Which were good, for the most part. But I think I like today worlds better."

With his thumb, he wiped at a lonely tear drop on her cheek.

"So are you going to tell me why you were so sad earlier?"

"I wasn't sad."

"C'mon, I think I know my Lav-Lav pretty well to know when she's down." He folded his arms and gave her an expectant look.

"I guess I was just having a few of those pre-wedding jitters you hear so much about. Just some stupid, unfounded fears. But I'm working through them."

The answer was enough to satisfy Ron.

"So," she said coyly, "did you come here straight to see me?"

"No."

Lavender's cheery expression fell.

"I spent some time alone with this beautiful blonde who has got me wrapped around her pinky." He paused a moment before adding, "Violet sends hugs and kisses by the way. I stopped at mum and dad's. The midget was just getting in from school."

Lavender's mouth hung open dumbly before she tackled Ron and pushed him down on the couch. He landed on his back with Lavender on top of him. Both were giggling like children as they tumbled around on the sofa. The roughhousing became a hug, which segued into a peck on the lips, which eventually developed into a heavy bout of snogging. After briefly debating whether or not a hand job counted as sex and deciding in a land slide victory vote of two to none that it most certainly did NOT, the two cuddled as Lavender lay back against Ron.

How could she have been so stupid? Lavender wondered to herself. Here she was, so concerned about what Granger was plotting and planning, that she had lost sight of what was truly important. Ron had never given her any reason not to have any faith in him. When they got back together after Cornelius' death, Lavender never felt that she was a consolation prize for him. He proved to her time and again that she was the only one he wanted to be with. He wanted to be a real family with her and Violet, and in just a few weeks that would finally happen. Ron gave no hint that he wanted to change his mind now, so why was she worrying herself sick thinking that he would?

"Ron?"

By the sound of his breathing in her ear he had just been drifting off to sleep.

"Hmm?" he murmured.

"I'm thirsty."

She said it again after there was a brief pause that was punctuated with a snore.

"There should be some butterbeer in the fridge," his tired voice informed her.

Lavender turned her body around slightly so she could look at his face, his dear freckled face, which was still and in repose.

"Actually I was thinking you could floo Mr. Lupin's and see if Harry and Hermione would like to meet up somewhere after. The four of us could go to the Cauldron for a drink or something."

One surprised blue eye shot open. "You mean that?"

"Harry and Hermione are important to you. What ever is important to you is important to me. What you care about I want to care about too."

Both of Ron's eyes were open now as he looked at her with a trace of skepticism. Lavender really couldn't blame him for the doubt.

"Even Hermione?"

She curled her fingers in his hair and looked at him earnestly.

"I can try. I'm willing to work on it, for you. If it makes you happy, it makes me happy. You make me happy..." she said, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "...Rrrrrrrr-amon."

A laugh from deep in his belly made Lavender bounce up and down.

"How did I get so lucky?" he asked as he pulled her down and laid her head on his chest.

Lavender shrugged as the corners of her lips turned up.

"Maybe you did something really good in another life."

Love conquers all, even Karma.

Unknown

A/N: Next up is Harry's POV. Things to look forward to: a little Good Auror/Bad Auror, Hermione runs into someone from her Dallas past, and Harry finds out some things that he probably wish he hadn't.

A few more points of interest...

1) All characters other than Lenore Brown, Mr. Brown, Anna Bencivenga, Mrs. Emily Hoppingkirk, "Uncle" Mingus, Grandfather Wallingford, Addison, Ikeman, Peppers, Quimby, Verdon-Hall, Presto's Maître d', Pythia the Portly, Elikapeka Kapulani, Inez Toledo, and Nwadinobi Ouedraogo are canon.

2) The leaves and flowers that were being sewn into Lavender's robes were from the Hawthorne (also called Whitethorn) tree. It is closely associated with witch craft and fertility.

3) "Weasley is Our King" is from OotP of course. There was no way I was going to let my chance to use that slip by. LOL!

4) "Life is just what happens to you, while your busy making other plans" is from John Lennon's Beautiful Boy(Darling Boy).

5) The soulmate theory is from Plato's Symposium.

6) The Stephanotis is usually used in bridal bouquets.

7) Just to make sure it's clear, Mr. Brown did not die because of the blood bond. But if you've guessed that the level of illness or pain of the offended spouse varies depending on the degree of the "cheating" you are correct.

8) Fred and Glinda's list is a shout out to the Friends episode "The One With Frank Jr.".

9) According to Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them an augurey(the Irish Phoenix) is a thin, mournful looking bird, greenish-black in color, that resembles a vulture. It's cry, once believed to foretell death, actually announces rain.

10) The British National Cup Stadium, Modern Witch Bride magazine, InChant magazine, Accio! tabloid, The Dublin Daily Comet newspaper, The Iron Quill newspaper, The Red Heads, Warlock's Quarterly, 'Ye Old Troll beer, the Blue Fairitini, as well as the Oahu Balls of Fire, the Guadalajara Gravediggers, and the Silver Spears of Swaziland Quidditch teams are all original to this story.

11) And for those who may have guessed it (and even those that didn't), Ron, unbeknownst to him, is Violet's biological father. Interestingly enough Hermione isn't the only person in the story who has figured it out. Guess who.

Tell me if you like it. Tell me if you hate it. Just tell me something. Please review.