For the Chopped comp with the prompts: Genre – friendship, healing, suffering, and Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.
For the challenge on the Hufflepuff Common Room where I used the prompts: genre – angst and color – pale blue.
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You watch her, day in and day out. You watch the steady rise and fall of her chest; the only sign of the life drumming through her fragile body. She sleeps a lot these days, which you don't mind, because when she's awake, she's in excruciating pain. And you don't want that for her.
You wait because there's not much else you can do. The only time you ever move from her bedside is when Madam Pomfrey shoos you away to tend to her wounds. Even then, you aren't that far away.
"She is lucky to be alive. But they will scar," Madam Pomfrey informs you, gesturing to the three deep gashes down the right side of her face. They are deep and red, and extend from her temple to below her collarbone. You know she has more on her left side and her stomach. "Because of the nature of who inflicted these wounds, she will inherit wolfish tendencies."
You find yourself asking, "What type of tendencies?"
Madam Pomfrey gives you a sad kind of look. "Her taste buds will change, and you'll find that she'll acquire a taste for rare meat. She'll also probably be anxious and irritable around the time of the full moon."
You nod. And you take a seat next to her. You take her hand in yours and you talk about everything and nothing. You talk until you fall asleep because she has to know someone is there for her.
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It's nearly two weeks after the accident when she regains consciousness without being in agonizing pain. She groans as she tries to sit up. But you push her down by her un-injured left shoulder.
"Shh," you soothe as she fights to sit up. "You'll alright." Silently, you breathe in relief. She's awake and she's going to recover. You're happy about it. You're not going to lose your best friend.
She goes to move her right arm, but she lets out a gasp of pain. "Wh-what happened, Par?" she asks, her voice rough and raw.
"You were hurt during the battle. Don't you remember?" you ask softly. She goes to shake her head, but you stop her. "Don't move your head, Lav. Your neck is still healing. That's why it hurts you to talk," you explain softly.
She looks up at you, her brown eyes wide. "A-are they going to scar?" she asks. You know by the look in her eyes that she wants you to tell her no, they won't, but you've never lied to her before.
You lean down, brushing her blonde hair out of her face. "Yes," you whisper.
Horror flashes in her eyes as she turns away from you. "Just go," she says. "Please just go." She looks vulnerable, turned away from you, and you want to stay. But you know that she doesn't want that.
You nod. "Okay. I'll come back tomorrow," you tell her before you leave. She pretends not to hear you.
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You walk into the Hospital Wing, holding a bag of her favorite candy – toasted marshmallow flavored Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. You're not a fan of them, but she loves only that flavor. The day before, you had spent an hour at Honeydukes getting a bag of just toasted marshmallows for her.
As you take your usual seat, you see her sitting up. You give her a smile that she doesn't return and offer her the bag. She takes it gingerly and opens it. A small smile crosses her face as she realizes what you've given her. She picks one up happily, and pops it in her mouth.
You watch her chew, make a grimace and spit the candy out. "What did you give me?" she demands accusingly. "This tastes disgusting," she adds on.
Then you realize that her tastes have evolved because of the wolfish taint to her blood. And you have nothing to say because seeing your best friend unable to eat something that she loved so much before hurts you. You cry because she's changed and there's nothing you can do to help her.
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Once she's released from the Hospital Wing, you walk with her to Hogsmeade Village, where you both will be Apparating home. She looks up at the pale blue sky, her eyes clouded with sadness. "Sometimes, I think it would've been better if I died that night," she admits softly.
You turn towards her, your anger evident in your eyes. "Don't you say that! Don't you ever say that, Lavender! You're my best friend and losing you would've been too much to bear," you growl at her.
She looks at you brokenly, defeated. And it makes you hurt. This isn't the girl you became best friends with. This isn't the girl that stood up to the Carrows. This isn't the girl that fought.
This is the girl that was hurt.
You pull her into a hug. "We'll get through this, Lav. It may have knocked you down, but you are a fighter. You are stronger than this," you whisper encouragingly in her ear.
It's going to be a long road ahead of the two of you; a long road of healing and recovering. But you will do everything in your power to help her through it, because that's what best friends are for.