Lavender Brown's Requiem
A HariPo fanfic
Note: This is very loosely based on the movie Brown's Requiem with Michael Rooker and Tobin Bell and I didn't watch the whole thing, so I don't wish for too much grief. Oh, and of course the Harry Potter charries belong to J.K. Rowling. Other than that, READ AND REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!
Chapter 1:The Way Things Used to Be
I used to live my life in dreams.
Now that my dreams are in shambles, I've pretty much given up on that falsehood.
Dreams walk right in and then walk right back out, kind of like most men. Or pets. Well, pets just get up and do whatever they want; they're animals. Okay, so are men. Anyway, my point is that dreams are a load of bull. We get the teensiest bit of hope or promise, only to have it taken away a moment or a breath later.
My hope faded away several years ago.
After Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and about five-ish years of Auror training, I, Lavender Brown, became a full-fledged Auror. After ten years of horrors, tragedies, and minor miracles, I retired early. It wasn't that I was no good as an Auror. I merely got out while I still could –while I could choose another life, or at least keep my sanity.
I was afraid the monotony would make me snap.
Too bad I couldn't live the charmed life. Many of my classmates were: Harry Potter married that Weasley girl Ginny, my ex Ron Weasley married that nerdy Granger girl, I last heard Longbottom married some Hufflepuff named Abbot, and I knew of a few more who had successful careers or happy families or both.
You know what irks me? Potter's still and Auror, and yet he manages to have a real family. I guess female Aurors –sorry, ex-Aurors –don't make the mother cut.
I guess I'm just not "family material."
…Tch. Yeah right.
… Okay, maybe, yeah. But neither would you if you were trying to make a living as a magical PI. I mean, why did I even bother coming up with this stupid business?! AGH!
Well, it's something. While I don't get work every day, those who do employ me pay well. My typical fee is five hundred galleons a day, but since I don't usually stay on a case for more than two or three days, it has to make my time worthwhile. So, five hundred galleons it is.
And I get a wide sort in my office. Wizards, witches, shopkeepers, jealous spouses, jealous exes, homicidal maniacs whom I end up turning over to the Ministry of Magic… I used to be one of those M.O.M. officials. … Sorry, not the time for a trip down Memory Lane.
Anyway, I get just about anything in my office. The reason why I'm bugged this time is that it wasn't just another client I got. It was an ex-classmate looking to follow up on another ex-classmate. But they weren't any people.
They had both been Slytherins.
Slytherins almost always mean bad shit. Like, not just shitburgers. More like the shitburgers hit the fan and I couldn't get out of the line-of-fire fast enough. So, shall we?