One day, Parvati had a dream. She dreamed of Lavender, alive and whole again, sitting with her, laughing with her, kissing her. She'd never had the kissing part before, and Parvati wished hopelessly on a star that her dream could come true, but even the Resurrection Stone couldn't raise the dead. She'd lost her love, and there was no way to find her. Lavender had been her best friend, her soulmate, the one she stayed up late at night talking with, the one who cried on her shoulder.
Parvati got up from the chair she'd fallen asleep in, and cried. Lavender was gone. And she was alone. And she was alone.