"Oh, Bill," Fleur whispered to husband. "Go 'n' talk to 'er." She nodded at the girl currently being treated by Madam Pomfrey. The girl sat there on the floor, numb, while the nurse unsuccessfully tried to mend the scratches on the girl's neck, arm, and shoulder. When she had stopped bleeding, Madam Pomfrey left her. Two of the girl's friends—a dark haired girl and a sandy haired boy—sat beside her, patting her on the back. She didn't seem to notice them. She slumped forward, her hair hiding her face.
She, like Bill, had been attacked by Fenrir Greyback. Luckily, it had not been a full moon, so she would not become a werewolf. But still, she would carry those scars forever.
Bill nodded at Fleur had made his way over to the girl. He crouched down beside her. She didn't move or act as if she had noticed Bill at all. Bill turned to her two friends. "Do you think you could give us a moment?"
They shrugged but wearily got to their feet and left Bill and the girl with the scratches.
"Hello, there. I'm Bill Weasley. Ron's brother."
Still, the girl made no response.
Bill tried a different approach. "He attacked me, too. See?" He gestured to his mauled face.
The girl looked up, examining Bill's marks with wide, frightened eyes. After a moment she said, "Lavender."
There we go. "How are you doing?"
Lavender shrugged, leaning forward and letting her hair fall into her face to block out the rest of the world. "I've been better."
"At least you still have your face," Bill reminded her. "The scars aren't pretty," he said bluntly. "But it could be worse. You're going to be fine," he insisted. "The only thing that's going to change is you'll suddenly like to eat rarer steak from time-to-time."
Lavender finally looked at him, hope in her eyes. "You mean, I'm not a werewolf?" Her voice was breathless, as if she hardly dared to hope.
Bill shook his head. "Nope. Since he wasn't a wolf when he attacked you…"
Lavender was instantly relieved. The scars were ugly- ugly as all hell. She knew she'd be self-conscious of them for the rest of her life. But still, they were infinitely easier to deal with the being a werewolf, she reminded herself. She could think of several outfits off the top of her head that would easily hide them. And the important people—Parvati and Seamus—didn't seem to care. She wouldn't become a savage once a month. She wouldn't be discriminated against. She could still work and make a living.
She stood up, thanked Bill, and was about to shake his hand when someone tapped Bill on the shoulder.
It was Ron, hand in hand with Hermione.
Lavender felt an uncomfortable twist in the pit of her stomach. Even when she had been with Ron, she'd always known, deep down, though she would never have admitted it… she had always known he was meant for Hermione. But still, it wasn't an easy thing to witness.
"Mum wants to get a good look at you." Ron's voice sounded hollow. "She'll squeeze the life out of you, make sure all your parts still work, then cry for a bit. Just go and get it over with."
Bill sighed heavily but did as Ron advised.
Ron looked shiftily over at Lavender and squirmed slightly. He did not turn away; however, even though it was clear he wanted to do so. Hermione still had hold of his hand and she made no move to leave.
"I'm really glad you're okay," Hermione said after a moment.
Lavender looked at Hermione, really looked at her. Probably for the first time in years. Lavender had shared a dormitory with Hermione for six years and ignored her for most of that time. The rest of the time, she had dated Ron and was secretly thrilled that brilliant, talented Hermione was envious of her for once. And now here she stood, alive, all thanks to Hermione.
What were you supposed to say to someone after they saved your life? Especially when it was someone you never expected would want to save you?
"Ron?" Lavender's voice sounded strange, even to her own ears. "Can I talk to Hermione for a moment?"
Ron, looking relieved to get away from Lavender, released Hermione's hand and went back to the rest of his family.
Lavender forced herself to meet Hermione's eye. "You saved my life! I don't- I don't even know how to begin to thank you—" she started.
"Oh, come on now. Don't be silly! How could you possibly think—"
"I was awful to you," Lavender insisted. "You must have hated me. I-"
Hermione found herself wanting to smile, suddenly reminded of when she had been cornered by a troll in the bathroom and two boys- both of whom would have previously sworn they despised her- had been the ones to come to her rescue. "I never hated you, Lavender. I was jealous of you, sometimes, though."
Lavender stared, unable to believe it. This was Hermione "Cleverest Witch of Her Age" Granger. This was the girl who was best friends with Harry Potter and helped defeat the most evil wizard the world has ever known. The girl who had gone out with Viktor Krum and had dumped him. This was the girl who Ron Weasley was in love with, the only one who deserved him. "What? How? You mean because of last year? With Ron?"
Hermione shook her head slowly. "Oh, no. Way before that. You and Parvati, almost like sisters... I've never had that." Hermione went on to confess something she had never once said out loud, despite the nagging pain of it that had plagued her for years. "And for a really long time, it was pretty obvious that Ron and Harry preferred each other to me." Her voice broke on the last word. "I was never anyone's best friend."
Before she knew what was happening, Lavender burst into tears and threw her arms around Hermione. She wasn't quite sure what made her do it. Hermione's eyes widened in shock, but she returned the embrace, more reminded of the troll incident than ever. The two young women hugged, all past petty squabbles of boys, Divination, and pet rabbits quite forgotten.
There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other. Knocking out a mountain troll is one of them. And fighting a deranged, sadistic werewolf is a another.
The End
A/N: I wrote this in 2009, before Lavender's death was confirmed. I don't care though. She's still alive to me.