Lavender Brown sits in the dark. The only sound audible is the gentle rise and fall of her breathing as she stares out into the open space before her. There are only a few stars in the night sky, but they and the crescent moon are enough to display the outlines of buildings against the deep blue of her surroundings.

Though she is exposed to the wind, she shows no sign of being cold. There is no blanket covering her shoulders, no cloak to cover her robes, but the night is bitter. Yet she seems not to care or even to notice as she simply sits on the worn wooden steps that lead up to her house.

Perhaps she feels nothing because she has no reason to. After all, hours spent in the cold often helps one get used to it. For she has not been inside for most of the day, simply because she feels she cannot. It’s too hard for her to turn that brass doorknob and walk inside, knowing she is walking into nothingness. There will be no welcoming call, no affectionate hug or kiss, and it hurts her. It hurts even to think of that possibility.

She knows she should have expected it. Everyone else had lost someone; whether it was a close friend or just a distant acquaintance does not matter. She could not put reason to it, but somehow she had simply thought that it couldn’t touch her. Her life was so plain and her parents were less than important.

Why was it then that they were chosen?

The question echoes over and over again in her head. She does not consider the fact that this makes no difference, because her thoughts seem to have been numbed. And anyway, it is so much easier for her to try to answer this question than to accept what has happened. For in her mind, if she does not enter the house, it is not real.

And this has been thought through. She will never have any need to go in again – she can just leave and never return. The memory of her parents in this house will remain, and she will never have any experience that could contradict it.
She will not go to the funeral either, because that will make it certain too.

Yes and yes and yes, over in her head.

The time is slipping by, though. She is aware that she cannot leave when it is pitch black outside. She will have to leave soon. Then no-one will know, and she can pretend this has never happened. Forever she will be able to create a make-believe world in her head where everything is right, where the sun shines every day and her mother bakes cookies for the whole village like she used to do before all the killing began.

It is just then that Lavender’s face finally moves. It is shaped into a crude smile, similar to that of a baby’s as it learns for the first time. The entertaining world of colour in her head is making her laugh, and soon the area is filled with a careless, child-like laugh. And it echoes everywhere, bouncing from bricks to metal and back again at her.

But she stops, quite suddenly, as she is jolted back to reality. For there is nobody there anymore. It wouldn’t matter if she strolls out of here tomorrow in the broad daylight, because there is nobody left to see her go.

Tears spring to her eyes as she realises she is one of the lucky few. She has survived! She knows this should be a happy thought, but she can’t shy away from her own mind. And it is screaming at her.

Why me? Do I not get a choice?

After all, death would be so much easier than this. This is agony; there is no other word she can bring to mind to describe it. And once again the air is cold. She shivers, holding onto the wood that is below her.

And then she sees the stars, almost as if it is the first time she has ever really noticed them. She gazes, transfixed, at the gleam of their brilliant light, subconsciously releasing the step from her clutch. Once again the childish joy fills her as she looks to other stars and plays with them in her mind.

Because of course the stars keep shining even through the dark. From the little she remembers of Muggle education, she knows that they must be thousands, even millions of miles from here, yet she can still see them. And that, more than anything she has ever considered before, fascinates her. Somehow she has found comfort in the complexity of the stars.

She hears footsteps from the bottom of the street. Her head swivels towards the noise, and although her brain is screeching at her to move, her body won’t seem to obey. Then it is too late, the footsteps have come to a stop as a man comes into view. He stops before her and crouches down.

“Lavender?� she hears him inquire.

And her heart leaps just at the sound of her own name. It is clarity through the madness of her thoughts, and by instinct, she looks up at his face.

She knows him immediately, even after so many years. She can tell that he has grown older, but Harry Potter is still the same as she remembers from five years ago. His eyes are the same electric green; his hair is still the same jet black. And although his face shows the clear signs of the war taking its toll, she can still see the glimmer of faith playing around his face.

She nods mutely and he smiles down at her: a genuine smile. “Are you alright?� he asks. “Surely you’re cold?�

She looks at him for a moment, wondering how much she should say. Then finally, she replies, “Oh, no, I like the fresh, crisp air. And I’ve not been out here long.�
He grins his understanding and straightens up. “Well, I would want to talk, but there’s something I must do. So, goodbye, Lavender, I’m glad to see you’ve survived it all.�

Then he begins to walk away, and she waves to him as he turns the corner of the street. She knows he meant surviving by staying alive, but she sees it differently herself. Because if he hadn’t turned up, who knows what would have happened? She smiles to herself, appreciating the great subtleties of fate. Then sighing, she glances behind her at the house.

He may not realise it, but Harry Potter has made her rethink. His passing through at that very moment has stirred something within her. And that something knows she cannot run away forever. Yes, she will stay elsewhere tonight, just to give her a little more time.
But in the morning she will return here and walk through that door, and she will accept what has happened.

For the morning brings light with it, and with light comes comfort. Then while morning sleeps, the stars will maintain the promise it makes. And if nothing and no-one else, Lavender can trust the stars.