“Sod it!” she muttered and, picking up the basket, she shook the contents out onto her desk. Some pieces of ripped paper fluttered to the floor. No one rips things up that small, she thought, unless they have something to hide.
Kneeling on the floor, she quickly pieced the scraps together. The ripped parchment became whole again. It was a list, a list of her friends from the past, and from the present. Underneath was scrawled an address. Lavender closed her eyes. She recognised the establishment, for she’d been invited to the opening the month before. ‘Delacour's’ was the place to be seen. With her mother’s style and her grandmother’s cooking skills, Dominique Weasley had carved her own niche in the restaurant world, serving Muggles and Wizards alike.
Lavender swore under her breath. This was not what she wanted. She’d told Padma, quite categorically, that she did not want any type of celebration. However, the Daily Prophet’s Society correspondent had obviously decided that Lavender did not know her own mind and had compiled this list. Lavender grimaced; all her friends appeared to have been asked, and all had said yes. Neville and Hannah Longbottom, Harry and Ginny Potter, Ron and Hermione Weasley, and “ ha “ of course “ Seamus Finnegan with yet another girlfriend, who was probably half his age. There was a cross by Dean’s name, and she wondered briefly about that. She’d hoped they could remain friends after the break up, but the past year had proved her wrong. Lavender felt tears starting to swell in her eyes. Angrily, she dashed them away. She was proud of the fact that she’d learnt to control her emotions. No longer the weeping teenager who fell apart when her heart or her fingernail broke, Lavender had a reputation for being exceptionally tough.
Forty, she thought. Bloody hell, how did that happen?
If she closed her eyes, she could see Hogwarts in her mind. Was it really twenty-nine years ago that she perched on that rickety stool and became the first Gryffindor of her year to be Sorted? Sometimes she didn’t feel so different from that nervous eleven year old, yet she knew she was. The final year at Hogwarts had toughened her up, and the attack by Fenrir Greyback had left her with far worse scars than the ones she sported on her shoulder and back.
Gathering up the scraps of paper, Lavender screwed them in a ball and placed all the rubbish in the bin. The party was planned for this evening. Lavender smiled sardonically; that must be the reason she’d had no cards this morning, and the reason why Parvati had cancelled their lunch date.
“Lavender,” called a voice from outside. Recognising Padma, Lavender quickly retreated to her desk, put her glasses on (the curse of old age), and began rifling through some parchment notes.
“Ah, there you are,” said Padma as she sauntered into the office. Lavender glanced up and decided not to remark on Padma’s make up, expensive hairstyle, and new dress that she was wearing.
I’m not even wearing a dress, she thought, and I didn’t wash my hair this morning. Bugger! I do not need this.
“Lavender, would you help me with something?” Padma asked sweetly, holding out her arm.
Getting up slowly, but thinking quickly, Lavender walked towards Padma. She knew this was a ruse, and suddenly, it occurred to her that Padma could easily drag her to the party by Side-Along-Apparition. She smiled blandly at her friend and colleague.
“Just give me a minute,” she replied and nipped off to the toilet.
She scowled at her reflection in the mirror and hurriedly took off her glasses. Running her hands through her hair, she cursed the fact that she had no make-up in her bag.
“What’s the use?” she muttered to herself. “I’m not seventeen anymore, so what’s the point?”
“Lavender, are you okay?” Padma shouted as she knocked on the door.
Lavender splashed some water on her face, and then, as she dried herself, a wicked thought occurred to her. She didn’t have to be there. It would be their fault for arranging all this behind her back. She hadn’t wanted a party; she’d made that clear to everyone when she celebrated her thirty-ninth.
“I’m declaring myself permanently thirty-nine, and so this is the last birthday party I’m ever having!” she’d cried as she’d fallen off the table in the Leaky Cauldron.
Hannah Longbottom had sighed and said, “It’s certainly the last one you’re having in my pub, Lavender Brown. Why can’t you just grow old gracefully like the rest of us?”
Because I don’t want to, she thought. Clutching her wand, Lavender turned quickly on the spot and Apparated to the first place she thought of “ King’s Cross Station.
“You’re stupid, Lavender Brown,” she muttered under her breath. “You cannot go back to Hogwarts.”
She smiled as she imagined Padma’s face when she discovered she’d escaped. Then she felt guilty. All that organisation. All those people she’d invited. Perhaps she should go back. She might enjoy it. Dominique would probably have made a cake with candles ... forty candles burning bright. Her head swam as she remembered another party, another cake with candles, and herself “ an only child “ blowing them out with a grin on her face.
Someone stumbled into her and shook her out of her reverie. Instinctively, Lavender reached for her wand as she recognised the intent of the pickpocket. She whipped her head around and gazed into a youth’s eyes. Panicking as he tried to escape, he pushed her over and grabbed her moneybag. Lavender got up and began to run. She was still wearing her high-heeled office shoes, so she wrenched them off and ran across the station forecourt in bare feet.
He’s underestimated me, she thought grimly. Stupid boy! For Lavender was a runner. It was a habit she picked up when studying the leisure pursuits of Muggles for an article. When she’d lived with Dean, he’d taken her to see his beloved West Ham United play football. She had gone along, prepared to be bored, but the passion of the fans had amused, and then, intrigued her. Dean still had some Muggle friends, boys from his old estate, now grown-up, and he used to join them for a kick around in the local park sometimes. Occasionally, on her way back from a story, Lavender had watched him, fascinated at the effort they’d put into it, and that’s when she’d begun her article. Shortly after, she’d taken up jogging.
“Stop, thief!” she yelled as she ran after the boy. She could see his red cap amongst the other travellers as he wove around them. He leapt over the barrier, ran straight across the platform, and into a waiting train. Unthinking, Lavender vaulted over to the other side and, shrugging off the arm of a ticket collector, she followed the youth onto the train.
The doors closed and the train began to move. Lavender looked around her, trying to see where the youth with her moneybag had fled. Out of the window, she caught a glimpse of his red cap. The pickpocket had proved far more resourceful than she’d realised, and as soon as she’d boarded the train, he must have skipped off just as the doors began to close.
“I need to get off,” Lavender shouted and began hammering on the door. “Stop the train!”
“Well, pull the cord, woman!” a man said impatiently. He gestured with his hand to a small box, high on the wall. Lavender reached up and was about to pull the chain when she saw a notice.
Damn! she thought. How do I know if it would be improper to pull that chain? She turned to the man next to her. “Do you have fifty pounds?”
Muttering something under his breath, the man moved away from her and held his newspaper over his face. Sighing, Lavender took a seat. She knew from her Muggle Studies lessons that a conductor would be patrolling soon, and she begged Merlin that she’d be able to explain the situation to him. If not -- she fingered her wand -- she could always Confund him. A baby opposite started crying; Lavender closed her eyes. She could feel a headache coming on and prayed the babe’s mother would hush it soon. The sounds got louder, so Lavender turned her head away “ anything to block out the cries.
“Come on, sweetheart,” cooed a voice. “Mummy’s here. Husha, husha, husha.”
The baby screamed louder. “Merlin!” Lavender heard the mother mutter. She whipped her head around and found herself staring into vaguely familiar black eyes.
“Cho?” Lavender asked tentatively. “It is Cho Chang, isn’t it?”
“Well, I’ve not been Chang for over fourteen years, but yes, it’s me,” Cho replied. She lifted the baby over her shoulder and began to pat its back. It burped loudly and gurgled. Cho smiled and carefully placed the baby in a bassinet she’d placed on the seat next to her. “Hopefully, she’ll sleep now.” She turned her head around. “I recognised you straight away. Lavender Brown, intrepid reporter for The Daily Prophet. So what brings you to this train, and why do you want to get off?”
Lavender stood up, crossed the aisle and sat on the seat opposite Cho. She explained about the pickpocket, and how she now had no money. “I’ll just have to throw myself on the mercy of the conductor, I suppose, until we stop, and I can get off. Then, I’ll Apparate back to London.” She paused. “Where is this train going, by the way?”
“Fast train to Cambridge,” replied Cho, and then added, because of Lavender’s uncomprehending expression, “That means it doesn’t stop anywhere until we reach Cambridge. We’ll be there in about two hours; is that a problem?”
Lavender thought of her friends gathering at Delacour’s. She knew she should get back. Perhaps the party would be fun, and they were only thinking of her. “I need to get back,” she told Cho. “Doesn’t this train stop anywhere?”
Cho pulled a face and leant in towards Lavender. “Sorry, no. Of course, you could always Apparate, but this train line is unpredictable and the carriages rock a bit. You could easily Splinch yourself.” The baby started whimpering again. Cho rocked the bassinet slightly, and the crying ceased. “Why do you need to get back?”
Lavender looked down at the floor. “Umm, well, this is all rather embarrassing, but my friends have thrown me a surprise party “ I’m forty today “ and I ... um ... don’t want to go.”
Cho grinned impishly. “Then what’s your problem. Stay here until we arrive at Cambridge, and then, you can Apparate back, just in time for the end.”
Lavender chuckled. “Poor Padma. I think her and Parvati went to a lot of trouble over this, but I did say last year I wanted no more birthdays. Forty ... urgh!”
“Tell me about it,” said Cho, sighing. “I celebrated last year. It was absolutely miserable ... but it did make me assess certain things.”
“Like what?” asked Lavender curiously.
Cho opened her mouth to reply, but just at that moment, a railway official appeared in front of them. “Tickets please!” he said loudly. Cho searched through her handbag and produced hers. He punched a hole in it and turned to Lavender expectantly.
“I have a bit of a problem,” she began, looking imploringly into his wizened face.
“A problem... oooh, I don’t like the sound of that, young lady,” he said loudly. “What sort of problem? I hope you’re not tellin’ me you ‘aven’t got a ticket.”
“Well, actually ...” she said, trying to get a word in edgeways.
“Oh, no! You ARE telling me you ‘aven’t got a ticket, aren’t yer. Now, look ‘ere, ducks. It’s fare dodgers like you that make the ticket prices so ‘igh.” He made a sweeping gesture to the carriage. Lavender noticed some Muggles looking on with interest, whilst others hid behind newspapers. “All these people are law-abiding citizens. They pay their way, something you whippersnappers just don’t seem to understand. In my day...”
“Look --” interrupted Lavender. She lowered her voice. “I’m quite willing to pay; it’s just that I don’t have any money on me. I was robbed.”
“You’ll ‘ave to speak up,” he shouted. “I’m a bit mutt in me left lug.”
“What?”
“Deaf, ducks. Lost me ‘earin in the Falklands. Don’t expect you’d know anyfing about that. Before you were born, I should fink.” He leant on the table, and Lavender noticed Cho was stifling a grin. “You ladies know nuffink about war and stuff, do yer?”
“I wouldn’t say that,” murmured Cho darkly.
“Why Mutt?” asked Lavender, more to change the subject than anything else, although she was intrigued by the old man’s expression.
“Speak up, I didn’t catch that,” he bellowed.
“I said ‘Why Mutt?’” she repeated. “Why don’t you just say you’re deaf?”
He grinned. “It’s cockney rhyming slang, love. Mutt and Jeff “ deaf.”
“What’s cockney““ Lavender started to ask , but a look from Cho stopped her.
“Don’t ask,” she whispered, “or he’ll be here for hours.” She turned to the conductor. “I’ll pay for my friend. She’s going to Cambridge.”
The conductor beamed a toothless smile and started to write a ticket as Cho handed over the money. “Old fool,” Cho muttered when he walked away. “Assuming we know nothing about war.”
Lavender sighed. “Muggles really have no idea, do they? I must say, you seem very adept at dealing with them. But then ... oh ... didn’t you marry a Muggle?”
Cho pulled a face. “Mmm, that’s right. Neil and I were married for fourteen years.”
“Were?”
“We got divorced last month. I told you that my fortieth made me assess certain things in my life, and my marriage was one of them.”
“Fourteen years is a long time,” said Lavender thoughtfully. “The longest relationship I’ve ever had has been two years.”
“Not Ron Weasley,” said Cho, laughing. “I seem to remember you wrapped around him all over Hogwarts.”
Lavender giggled. “No, not Ron.” She paused. “If you don’t mind me asking, why did you marry a Muggle? Wasn’t it difficult living in their world?”
Cho pondered Lavender’s words. “Not really. I met Neil at a low point in my life. I wanted to forget everything we’d gone through during the last years of the war, and Neil was my escape route.” Cho bent down and stroked her daughter’s hair.
“What did he think about you being a witch?” asked Lavender curiously.
“He didn’t know for a long while,” replied Cho. “I told you, I didn’t want to be part of our world anymore, so I hid amongst Muggles and did my best to forget.”
“But you’re back now, aren’t you? So what happened?”
“Mai happened,” Cho said softly. “I found out I was having a baby. Neil and I hadn’t planned on having children. It didn’t fit with our schedule,” she said the word scathingly. “He was pleased when I told him. But ... I knew things would change.” She smiled. “When Mai was born, I knew she was like me “ she was a witch, and I can’t deny her the chance of Hogwarts.”
“She’s already shown signs of magic?” questioned Lavender in amazement. She peered into the bassinet at the contented baby who was now awake and gazing all around.
Cho shook her head. “Call it mother’s instinct. I just know.”
“So your husband found out you were a witch and divorced you?” Lavender concluded after a while.
“Not exactly. I told him what I was, and of course, he didn’t believe me. Neil kept nagging at me to see a doctor “ a psychiatrist, to be precise “ because he thought I was crazy. He assumed it was ‘hormones’ after Mai’s birth. I even demonstrated a few spells “ once I’d found my old wand “ and he totally freaked out. I suppose I can’t blame him for that, but it did bring everything to a head. I’d kept this huge part of my life a secret from him, and he couldn’t forgive that.”
“Do you ...” Lavender faltered.
“Regret having Mai?” finished Cho. “Is that what you wanted to say?” Lavender flushed, but Cho didn’t seem bothered when she said, “No, I don’t regret her at all.”
Lavender gazed out of the window, unsure whether to continue the conversation. Green fields sped past her.
“So,” said Cho after a while. “What about you, Lavender? Why aren’t you married and chained to a cauldron with three children snapping at your ankles?”
“No one ever asked me,” Lavender replied lightly. “And I like my job. Not many men would accept a wife who’s never there because she’s investigating a story.”
“But you’ve had relationships, yes?”
“Mmm, but not serious ones ... at least ...” Lavender stopped. She bit her lip and stared out of the window again. Oh, Merlin, I miss him, she thought.
“Is he married?”
“Who?” Lavender jerked her head back to Cho.
“This man you’re thinking about. You’re running away from something, Lavender, and it’s not just a party.”
“He’s not married.”
“So what’s the problem?” persisted Cho.
“I’m the problem,” admitted Lavender. “That battle left its legacy. Perhaps it would have been better to be born a Muggle girl and never have to fight.”
“NO!” exclaimed Cho, and Lavender flinched at the vehemence in the other woman’s voice. All around, the other passengers looked at the pair of them; Mia woke up and began crying. Cho bent over the bassinet and picked up her daughter. She lowered her voice. “I needed to fight. I wanted that chance. The only regret I have is that the bastard who killed Cedric died before I could find him.” She looked Lavender in the eyes. “I was barely sixteen when I went out with him, but you don’t forget your first, do you?
“That’s why I’m going to Cambridgeshire today,” continued Cho, and she sighed. “Little Hangleton is where Cedric died, and I need to pay tribute to him before I step back into our world.”
Lavender felt tears well in her eyes, and this time she did not dash them away. She reached over and clutched Cho’s hand. There was no need for words. Cho nodded gratefully.
“I think,” said Lavender at last, “that I need to stop running, don’t I?”
The train slowed down as it approached Cambridge station. Beside them, the other travellers reached up to the racks and pulled down their cases. Cho hoisted a small bag over her shoulder and, carrying Mai in the bassinet, she walked towards the train door.
“Thank you,” Lavender said as she followed them off the train, “for paying my fare and for being there. You can find me at The Prophet offices, so contact me if you need anything.” She bent over the bassinet and looked at Mai. “She’s gorgeous, Cho. I can see why you have no regrets.”
“I think my daughter’s saved me,” Cho replied enigmatically. “Given me a new life and purpose.”
Lavender watched as Cho walked briskly away. It was still light, despite being nearly nine o’clock, and she searched around for a deserted spot. Across the concourse, she could see some rather grubby toilets. Gingerly, she stepped into a cubicle and, turning sharply, she Disapparated.
She arrived with a crack outside a block of flats. The combination on the keypad hadn’t changed, she was relieved to find, and she let herself into the lobby. She walked up the stairs, trying to think what to say, how she could explain what she was doing here, after all this time. Merlin, was it really a year ago?
She approached the door, and was about to knock, when it opened. And there was the man she’d missed so much. The one she’d not seen for a year.
“Hi,” said Dean. “I wondered if you’d turn up tonight. Should I be wishing you a happy birthday?”
“Not really. I ran away from my party. You know me; I don’t want to get old.”
Dean held the door open, and she walked inside. The flat looked the same as it always had. Dean had not decorated in the year they’d been apart. “Always running, aren’t you, Lavender?” He shoved his hands into his pocket and sat on an armchair. Lavender took the sofa opposite him.
“Not anymore,” she replied, and something in her tone made Dean stare. She held his gaze for a long while, and then, finally began to speak. “You said last year that I never opened up to you. You were right, and I need to tell you, I think, why I gave up on us.”
“You don’t have to,” Dean said. “If it’s more of the same, about you being unable to commit, because of your job or whatever excuse you can find, then I don’t want to hear it.”
“No,” she said sadly. “It’s not that.” She paused, and then, took a deep breath. “Dean, you know I was injured all those years ago at the battle. I mean you’ve seen the scars that Greyback left.”
“But you weren’t contaminated, were you? Greyback wasn’t a werewolf at the time, and Trelawney’s crystal ball knocked him out before he could do any real damage.”
Lavender closed her eyes. “That’s what I told people. I couldn’t bear the pity otherwise. There was something else. Greyback damaged me internally when he sliced into my stomach.” She stopped and lifted her face to the ceiling. The tears were flowing now. “The Healers told me that I’d never be able to have children.”
Dean got up quickly and sat by her side. She could feel his arms tentatively around her, and then, as she began to sob, he crushed her tight. “Why didn’t you tell me? I wanted to marry you, Lavender. I thought we shared everything,” he whispered.
“I don’t know,” she said between gasps. “It was never really an issue because I wasn’t sure I even wanted children, but then you asked me to marry you, and that meant settling down. I couldn’t tell you then because I know you, Dean. You wouldn’t have backtracked on your proposal. You would have married me anyway. It was better this way, I told myself. But ... I should have told you why.”
Dean let go slightly, and then, he tilted her face up to his. Kissing her lightly on the brow he said, “Lavender, I have three half-sisters, all with children. I’m godfather to three of Seamus’ kids by two of his marriages. I love them all to bits, but I don’t have an overwhelming urge for children. I never have. I thought you knew.” He stroked her cheek with one fingertip, lowered his head, and began to kiss her “ very gently “ until she began to kiss him back. Reluctantly, he pulled away, but he was smiling.
Conscious of the fact that she was still in her working clothes and probably had a blotchy face from her tears, Lavender turned away. “I must look a fright,” she murmured.
“You don’t look your usual self, I must admit,” said Dean wryly. “Not for someone who should be at a party.”
“I didn’t know about it until five minutes before Padma turned up to kidnap me,” Lavender replied wistfully. “I was cross at the time, so gave her the slip, but ... perhaps I should have gone.”
Dean stood up. “It’s not too late, you know.”
Lavender stayed firmly on the sofa. “Don’t be ridiculous. They won’t be there now, and I look awful. Besides ... I’d much rather stay here with you. I think we still have a lot of things to talk about.”
He pulled her to her feet. “They will still be there. Parvati contacted me about half an hour ago. She thought you might turn up here. And you’re not to worry about clothes. Padma has all that in hand. Come on, Cinderella. I’ll take you to the ball.”
“Just who is Cinderella?” Lavender asked.
“A Muggle girl who married Prince Charming,” Dean replied. He put his arms about her waist and pulled her in for another kiss.
“I’d still rather stay here,” Lavender said, grumbling. She entwined her arms around his neck. “I really have missed you. I even missed all those bloody football matches you dragged me along to.”
“Don’t worry,” Dean said, smiling wickedly. “You can come back here after.” He paused. “And if you’re really good, and don’t fall off too many tables, then tomorrow I’ll take you to see West Ham.”