Author's Note: This originally was going to be an Allydia story, but I had a little summary tidbit in mind because I wanted to write a story about Lavender and Parvati because I always enjoyed their little background scenes, so I happened to stumble across this quote on an Allydia edit and it basically hit home for me when it comes to women friendships, but also this idea I had. Anyways, this is more of a what-if-Lavender-died story, but I'm not cruel. Lavender didn't die! I refuse to believe it since no site confirms it, it means she lives!
"Friendships between women are often the deepest and most profound love stories."
Guilt raged on in her like a storming sea.
She should have been there. She should have done something, anything.
She could still hear her friend as she ran off to help a little boy get to safety. "Just go join the others, I'll be fine!"
Tears clawed at her eyes, her nose dripping as she coughed from the painful anguished that escaped her, but didn't subside the pain.
How could it be that this was something she couldn't help her friend with? Death, it was such a vague thing, yet so absolute.
Parvati moved slowly to where her best friend lay motionless on the medical cot, her golden curls she prided in matted with blood – her blood. It made Parvati gasp and she covered her face with an anguished wail that sounded like a person dying. She was dying. Without Lavender it was like someone was drowning her.
Friends, strangers, mediwizards surrounded her, but none attended her. Lavender was alone in death, waiting to once again rely on her best friend to stand by her because no one else would.
She knew she had to be brave – for Merlin's sake she was a bloody Gryffindor! – but this… this was different. To move herself to be beside her best friend like this… She was going to be sick.
"I'm Lavender, half-blood, and I thought I was bound to be in Hufflepuff."
"Yellow would have clashed horribly with your hair," Parvati said to the girl out of the blue while she speared her potato.
The girl – Lavender – agreed with a laugh. "I like your braid; you'll have to teach it to me someday."
Parvati sniffed. I never taught you how to braid your hair… I always did it for you.
Regret bubbled inside her. It was such a trivial thing, but somehow this one thing took hold of her anguish, even for a moment.
"That Ron Weasley! He is such a git, making a mockery out of Professor Trelawney like that!" Lavender vented after class. The two fifteen year olds made their way down from the North Tower. Parvati fought to hide her grin.
"You like him."
Lavender jolted, her cheeks dusted with pink. "As if," she sniffed snootily, though her cheeks told an entirely different story. "Who would ever like a git like that?"
"Oh, I don't know," Parvati said, dusting invisible lint from her robes as she feigned disinterest. "She's 5'4, curly hair, and is currently pretending to not like him."
Lavender scowled, and Parvati laughed as she dodged her friends slap and ran down the corridor.
"Come back here, Patil!" her best friend cried as she chased after her, causing the two girls to squeal with laughter as they ran, weaving in and out of the crowd of students.
"Just move towards her, Patil." She urged herself as people began to crowd around. Soon she knew they'd move her. The dead couldn't stay here; the wounded needed to be treated. She needs you!
"I loved him. How could I have been so… so stupid! I'm so stupid!" Lavender cried as Parvati's arms comforted her.
She should have been able to do that now. How was it after everything they'd been through: the fun, the heartache, the pure sorrow that came with war and being a teenager that Lavender was suddenly out of her reach? That their plans had been shattered?
They wouldn't be each other's maids of honor. They wouldn't be each other's child's godmother. They wouldn't share the joys of making a family for themselves. Their children wouldn't grow up together and be each other's best friends. They wouldn't graduate together – Lavender would never graduate! Lavender would never go on to be a journalist for the horoscope section of the Daily Prophet. She wouldn't fulfill her wish to give muggles silly palm readings, and tea readings. Lavender's life, everything she ever wanted, it had all simply vanished in one evening when she'd bravely sacrificed herself.
Her soul had been blown out just like a candle.
How could someone with so much life, so many silly dreams be taken out in one evening fighting for the life of a child? How could fate be so cruel to take her away? She died fighting, by being brave. Sure, she died with honor, but Parvati couldn't find the comfort in that.
There was no comfort to be found in death. There was nothing romantic about dying young and leaving your best friend behind!
She could only focus on the selfish aspects of this event. There was no joy, just sorrow and bitter realization. No longer would there be Lavender and Parvati. There wouldn't be anyone for her to talk mindless gossip with. No one to share and understand her love of divination, or her obsession with Witch Weekly, or go to Weird Sister concerts with. Now she'd have to face it all alone.
She could feel the hole inside her grow and the pain was so real she looked down expecting to see fresh blood on her robes.
Mediwizards began to lift Lavender's cot and with wide eyes Parvati shot forward. "Wait! Please," she begged, grabbing the man's robe. "Don't take her! Not yet! Please, I…"
The men looked down at her with such sympathy and nodded. "Only a few minutes, lass, we have to…" one of them said, but couldn't finish the sentence and with a nod, left.
Parvati looked down at her best friend, seeing her up close she could see the true horrible damage and she dropped to her knees, completely unaware that she was no longer standing.
A scar ran from her right eye to her chin, but whatever blood it gave off was long gone. Aside from the scar, Lavender Brown looked like she was in a peaceful sleep. Her mouth was straight, no hidden smile for her best friend, her blue eyes closed, never again to twinkle in delight. She looked cold, and when Parvati's hand closed over her friend's stiff hand a chill ran through her.
"Oh, Lavender," she whimpered.
How many times had she seen this face with a bright smile as she laughed at something Parvati had said?
How many emotions had she seen go across this distant, cold face. It wasn't right, but she didn't dare turn her lips up like she had playfully in a time that seemed like a millennium ago. This wasn't her best friend… this was what remained. This was the memory and shell of Lavender's former glory, but no Lavender to truly be found.
Parvati closed her eyes as she squeezed her friend's hand. "I'm sorry, Lavender. I'm so sorry." And all she could do was cry and hold her friend one final time, and then she was whisked away, leaving Parvati emptier than she ever knew she could be.