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Madam was ordering her around again. Lavender was bored of this job with no chance for career development. Chatting with the customers was the best part of her work, but once again she needed to toil in the bakery side of the tea shop and prepare the cakes.
All the heartshaped pink cakes this week of course. At least there were no Hogwarts students even today, on the 14th. Valentine's Day was Friday this year, when her spirits were particularly low because she would be turning forty and had no prospects and no love in her life. She'd checked that in the calendar before she got too drunk. Of course, she shouldn't be drunk at all at work, but what can you do? When it's Valentine's Day and you have no love and feel old even when there are no teenagers around.
She emptied her goblet of dirigible plum wine before tackling another cake. And she reached for another bottle in her hiding place, behind the flour bags – and her hand touched a different one. One she'd owl-ordered from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. It was no Amortentia or anything and wouldn't give lasting bliss, but enough to get through the cold February weekend if she could sneak it into a suitable customer's cake. But she didn't want to ruin other people's romances, and today they were all couples of course.
But now just suitably Lavender's boss, the ancient witch comes to bother her when she's daydreaming of meeting Won Won. He's divorced, she's heard, and perhaps she could have a second chance.
And Madam says, "Guess who's come to reminisce his school days and first date? Ah, to be young and to feel the hard sting! He's ordered a heartshaped cake, but for one.”
“Who's that?” Lavender says when using her wand to cut one of the cakes in half and before stuffing her mouth with the wrong-shaped half.
“Mr Weasley,” Puddifoot says. “Oh he's still as lanky as ever, a tall handsome young man, and now not fed well enough after his wife...”
And when she looks away, Lavender lifts the upper layer of the little heart and pours in the potion.
Madam insists on taking the cake to the table. But soon Lavender goes to wipe some other tables and sees the wizard with thinning red hair. Oh, she won't have to worry that she looks too old.
And she's barely startled when the wizard turns towards her, breathing deep as if savouring her scent.
“Love,” Arthur Weasley says. Or Lav...?
“Yes. I'm Lavender,” she says.
“I love Lavender. That's you. Could you please join me...”
“Upstairs after my shift,” Lavender whispers, feeling loved and lovely.