Written For: The Hunger Games: Fanfic Style III - Round 2

Prompts Used: Setting - Room of Requirement ; Dialogue - "I can't." / "Yes, you can." / "Oh, look, your words of affirmation have magically made it possible." ; Pairing - Parvati/Lavender ; Genre - Angst ; Emotion - Anger

Warnings: Swearing... Emotional Trauma (pretty much the same as usual...)

Word Count: 1,187


Note: I'm moving to school tomorrow. About damn time. Also... I am shit at rating my fics? but because I use the fuck word, I assume it's "M"? (If I'm wrong... please tell me) and to be perfectly honest, I think my AN utilizes just as bad of language as my fic does, so *insert shrug thing here*

I'm like... exhausted... so sorry for my weird rambling. Love you all!

Don't forget to review. I love hearing theories and thoughts about characters, and I also love constructive criticism... So throw it at me!

Disclaimer: I'm sure it's obvious, but I own nothing (literally)


Monsters Deserve the Dark

Lavender Brown let out a yelp as thunder shook the castle walls, her eyes shutting tight and her hands flying to either side of her head. It wasn't as if she were afraid of thunder, or lightning even, but…

Thunder shook again, louder than before, and this time Lavender screamed.

"That never happened before the war."

Lavender looked up from her spot in the corner of the room—the room that was supposed to filter out any sound—knowing who had spoken just by their scent. Parvati Patil stood in the doorway, letting a small sliver of light into the otherwise dark space. Lavender preferred it that way: small, dark, and devoid of everything except her.

"Close the door, Pavs," Lavender said softly, the demand sounding weak. She quickly looked away, trying to ignore the sound the tumultuous downpour of rain made. Within seconds, the rain was silenced, and the small amount of light disappeared. Despite her scent still lingering, Lavender had almost reached the conclusion that Parvati had left her alone when she felt a warm body settle beside her.

"Of all the things you could ask the room to do," Parvati started, letting her head lean against Lavender's shoulder, ignoring how her friend flinched at the contact, "why this?"

Lavender dared not move, lest she should jostle Parvati; instead she made a small noise that sounded part-way between a grunt and a hum. It was the sound of a shrug, if a shrug could make a sound.

"Why not add a sofa, or a bed, or a blanket?" Parvati asked, her voice soft in the dark. It was soothing and calm—a voice Lavender always had known to be safe.

That exact reason was why she pulled away, awkwardly shifting on the floor to put a couple of inches between her and Parvati. The silence that followed was almost too painful to bear.

Parvati was her friend; her closeness should be a comfort, a sanctuary. But, it wasn't—not anymore.

It was just another reminder of what had changed during the war.

"Laven—"

"Pav, please. Not right now," Lavender said, effectively cutting her friend off. Her head was beginning to hurt. The pain was probably due to the time of the month, but it was distracting enough to where she really wasn't in the mood to converse. Words were hard.

"No, Lavender listen—" Parvati tried again, only to be cut off once more.

"I really don't want to… please," Lavender whispered softly, pulling her knees up to her chest and tightening her body, as if her muscles could stop Parvati from saying whatever she was trying to say.

"Just talk to me," Parvati said, her voice just as soft, reaching out to put her hand on Lavender's shoulder, but retracting it when the girl flinched and curled tighter into herself.

Lavender could practically feel Parvati's disappointment.

"I can't."

"Yes, you can."

"Oh look, your words of affirmation have magically made it possible," Lavender retorted, rolling her eyes. Their old friendship was there, sitting just behind the monster that held Lavender hostage, but when the words fell into a silence, the silence hurt.

Carefully, the witch looked up at Parvati, her eyes acclimated to the dark enough to see the pain etched into her friend's features.

"Look, Pavs," Lavender said with a small sigh, turning towards the other witch. "I know you want to help, and I know you think you understand what I'm going through, but you really don't."

"So talk to me. Help me understand," Parvati pushed, turning to face Lavender as well, desperation in her voice.

Lavender growled, slamming the palm of her hand into the wall beside them, feeling the rough stone slice at her skin. She felt hot—too hot—and anger bubbled up in her chest.

"Damnit, Parvati. I don't want to fucking talk about it!" she yelled, not caring when she saw Parvati flinch. Well, not caring until her anger passed. Barely seconds later, horror buried itself in the pit of her stomach.

"Merlin, Pavs," she whimpered, scrambling away until her back hit against the far wall. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean…" Her voice faded into the silence as she buried her face in her hands.

"It's alright, Lavender," Parvati said softly. Lavender wanted to block out her words, to push the kindness away, but it persisted, seeping through her skin and into her heart. "Emotions are alright, even anger, and fear, and… and sadness."

Lavender shook her head but didn't say anything. She just gripped her fingers tighter in her hair, her body aching. It might be easier, more comfortable, if she just asked the room for a damn cushion, but she couldn't. Or, at least, she wouldn't.

"Emotions are human."

Parvati's voice cut across the silence and into Lavender. It sliced deep enough to elicit a gasp from the witch; the noise Lavender made was pained and heavy, petering out into a whimper after filling the room. Finally, she let her emotions go.

Parvati quickly crawled across the floor and gathered her into a hug when she started to cry, and this time Lavender didn't pull away. She sobbed into Parvati's shirt, gripping the other girl's shoulders, her body shaking, both from the power of her tears, and the exhaustion of the lunar cycle.

Only after a few minutes of Parvati gently whispering soft words and stroking her fingers through her long blonde hair did Lavender calm down enough to speak.

"I don't ask the room for anything because I don't want to ruin things when I change," she whispered into Parvati's shirt, shuddering slightly when her friend's fingers passed over one of the raised scars on her neck.

Parvati was silent for a moment, her hand stilling in Lavender's hair, before she leaned down just a little to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head. "Wouldn't it be easier on you if you had something other than yourself to attack?"

Lavender flinched, wanting to pull away again, but Parvati held her close. "I don't want to ruin anything," she repeated weakly.

Lavender could tell Parvati wanted to say something more, to lecture her about how hurting herself was worse than ruining a sofa, but was glad when the other witch held her tongue and continued to simply hold Lavender's shivering form.

"Do your transformations have anything to do with why you are scared of storms?" Parvati asked carefully, breaking the silence, frowning lightly when Lavender shook her head.

"The thunder and lightning remind me of the final battle," Lavender explained, "and I don't have the strength to face that memory."

Parvati shifted slightly to pull Lavender closer, closing her eyes as she pressed her lips to Lavender's forehead, keeping them there as she breathed deeply, wanting nothing more than to help.

"And the dark?" Parvati finally asked, her lips moving against Lavender's skin. "Why do you always keep the room so dark?"

It was silent for a moment—painfully still—as Lavender stopped making any noise, no longer even whimpering.

"I'm a werewolf… a monster," Lavender spoke at last, her voice barely louder than a breath. "Monsters don't deserve the light."