As Lavender Brown's body lay amongst the ruins of what was once her home, she watched a family grieve the loss of one of their own, wondering why fate had so cruelly dealt them such cards. From a young age, all she wanted was to love and be loved in...
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»»» AT first, Lavender thought Fred was joking when he suggested the idea. But one thing she would come to learn about this particular Weasley was his very serious nature, especially when it came to food. She couldn't help the suspicion, knowing that whilst she might have a constrained relationship with her family, there was no real reason for Fred to avoid George.
After taking her stunned silence as an answer, Fred headed to the door, holding it open and waiting patiently for her to restart her brain. Lavender blinked at him, trying to figure out what made him tick. For so long, her routine had always centered around being trapped alone, forced to rewatch moments of her life without any power to change it or look away.
Not anymore, she reminded her buzzing mind.
It only took a split second for her to plaster on her confident persona again; the Lavender who was strong, giggly, and who never let anyone see just how messed up she truly was. If Fred noticed, he didn't comment on it, but instead followed her as she walked out of the flat and into the street.
The sounds of passing traffic sounded far more real now. Like a young child, Fred couldn't help himself as he made sure to touch every lamppost they walked by, inhaling the musky polluted morning air of central London. His fingers drummed against the brick wall. He wrinkled his nose as they passed by trucks carrying garbage. Every so often, he would open his mouth and allow the cool air to fill it, fully aware of how strange it must look, but still managing to raise an eyebrow at Lavender when she caught him doing it for the third time.
There wasn't any need for jokes to break the awkwardness between the two, since both were equally obsessed with their new abilities to feel real. Whilst Fred took a more practical approach, Lavender found herself smiling at strangers, and after getting far more comfortable with it all, even managing a wave here and there. Noticing how her eyes seemed to light up each time a confused Muggle would return the wave, Fred decided to take it a step further with actually conversing with every passerby.
"Top of the morning to you."
"Beautiful hat you got there Sir."
"You're just a ray of sunshine."
"I love those socks; perfect for dancing."
And so it went on. At first, Lavender was horrified at how he could easily strike up conversations with random Muggles, but seeing how they would smile curiously, gaze lingering on him as he walked past, she couldn't help the smile that played on her own lips.
By the time they arrived at the first cafe, they had spoken to at least a dozen different people. For the first time in a long time, Lavender didn't even care about the whispers that followed them both as Fred sat in one of the booths. He scanned the menu for a second, before summoning a couple of waiters and informing them he'd like to try every item on the list.
"Every item, Sir?" The waiter replied, his mustache quivering.
"Please," said Fred innocently, turning his attention back to his companion who shrugged and asked for an additional coffee. Her eyes remained trained on the man as he approached another colleagues, whispering furiously with futile attempts to hide it all with a tray. Unbeknownst to her, Fred watched attentively, finding himself more intrigued as to why the universe had decided to gift him this particular presence.
