The World Through Three Eyes

"Hello Shoes,

Well today's been absolutely mad. Parv's fault- woke me up at six bloody thirty on the phone. I mean, I didn't even know she could use a phone but there you go. There's no end to that girl's talents! So anyway, I'm fast asleep and I suddenly hear that ring tone, you know, beep-BEEP-beep-BEEP-BEEEEP-be-beep. Obviously I ignore it at first. I didn't answer it for about fifteen minutes and most people would give up but not Parv- it's still beeping away and I just want it to stop and go back to bed so I answer and it's her. Her voice is all squeaky and sniffy and I know what it is in the blink of an eye. Man troubles.

'Lav,' she goes, 'Jack's back!'

Well, Jack-who, I think to myself. I gave up trying to keep up with her ex's names long ago- Parv's got more than we can count on our fingers and toes together.

'You know,' she sobs, 'JACK!!'

'Oh,' I say, 'THAT Jack.'

Don't have the faintest who she's on about, of course, but I let her rant about him for hours on end. I occasionally go 'mmm' and 'yeah' and 'awww, Parv'- accounts for listening, you see. So then she starts talking about Jack, it comes to me and I'm like- JACK TAYLOR!!"

Ankle boots with a stiletto heel. White, of course.

They say you can take the girl out of Essex, but you can't take the Essex out of a girl. Doesn't mean I run about in miniskirts with my knickers around my ankles or anything. I've got a little bit more class than that, me. I've got this little thing - a 'mantra' as Parvati calls it - that I say in front of the mirror: Lavender Brown is a classy bird. Don't ask why, it's one my little quirks.

Like talking to my Shoes.

The whole Shoe business started at Hogwarts, during my first year. I felt a bit lonely and I thought it would be nice to keep a diary or something, only I'm not very good at writing what I feel. I'm better at speaking it, I'm a natural talker. Gobshite- that's what Seamus calls me. Always veering off the subject and… Anyway. The Shoes. It kind of just happened naturally. I was alone in the dorm, my shoes were on the floor and it felt the most normal thing in the world to pick them up and start telling them about my day. It was easy to talk to them- I knew they wouldn't go telling everybody my secrets. I've got great faith in my Shoes. I really believe in them- I reckon we have some kind of spiritual link.

Me and my Shoes, we've been through some hard times. I've had to swap pairs from time to time, my first fell apart and the second got lost. The third went so out of fashion that I couldn't face them anymore. I sometimes wonder if I'm mad for talking to inanimate objects, but I don't care enough to stop. If I am barmy, at least I'm still a classy bird at the end of the day, with great shoes.

"... completely rushed off my feet. She keeps asking me questions 'Will I have children?' 'Is he 'the one'?' 'When/How will I die?' I mean, I just wanted to grab my crystal ball and smack her one, right over the head. People just don't take Diviners seriously, do they, Shoes?"

I work as a Diviner in Diagon Alley. I'm normally put behind a crystal ball, but on Saturdays I'll read tea leaves and do a bit of palmistry. The pay's crap of course, but I'd foreseen that. I'm doing something I love and I happen to think I'm a very good Diviner. Very perceptive and very… spiritual. I can feel things, you know, I can just look at people and I'll read their soul. It's a gift.

A lot of Muggles and even wizards don't understand Divination. They think it 'isn't practical'. Fair enough for the Muggles, I suppose, they don't really know about magic. But wizards have no excuse. How can you wave a wand around, turning goldfish into bananas and say that reading someone's future is stupid? They don't understand that it's an art. Anyway, most of them are just jealous that they don't have an inner eye like mine.

Men say I have beautiful eyes. I think so too - all three of them.