"Well, looks are only skin-deep," Lavender gave him another squeeze, "You can say he did one good thing for you and made you very handsome, but it doesn't mean you're like him inside."
Lavender didn't pull away until Michael did, trying to be as supportive as she could for her friend. It was nice for her, too; it had been a horrible year, and sometimes you didn't know how badly you needed a hug until you were in the middle of one.
Once Michael did pull away, she wished he hadn't. If his face was still against her neck – where it felt quite good, she noticed guiltily – he wouldn't have seen the look on her face when he said his father was a Death Eater. Her hands flew up to her mouth to cover her gasp, her widened eyes not so easy to hide. Lavender had been just about to ask him if he was joking, but who would joke about something like that? When he continued to talk, she managed to keep her thumping heart under control. As if holding his hand was the only thing she could do, she grasped it and caught his eye.
"Don't even begin to think like that, Michael," Lavender said sternly, bordering on scolding. "Wanting to cause him harm does not mean you're evil; it means you're human. Merlin, I don't even know the guy and I already want to kick his ass for making you think for a second that you have an evil gene."
Still staring at him, she pressed, "You're not a bad person, Michael. His choices are not yours. You're not like that at all, believe me."