Healers say a lot of things to skirt around the truth.

On the one hand, they don't want to say everything will be okay, or that everything is fine in case they're giving out false hope on the slight chance that something goes wrong.

On the other, they don't want to hand out a grim prognosis and force someone into the grieving process only to have the patient make an amazing recovery.

Though, Parvati supposed, one situation was a bit better than the other. Her grieving process started the second she saw Lavender lying on the bloodstained grass, her body terribly mauled and contorted into a gruesome and unnatural pose. She'd assumed right then and there that her best friend was dead and what small shred of joy she had left was torn from her heart.

Nearly a week had passed since that morning, the longest week of her life. She rarely left the hospital, usually only doing so when she was forced. Lavender's family was there, of course, her mother and father, her grandparents, and plenty of kids from school stopped by to check in, even Ron and Hermione, but there were plenty of hours (usually late night hours) where it was just her. Just her and Lavender.

She held her hand, made sure her pillows were fluffed, cared for her hair as best she could, painted her nails, and made sure her lips didn't dry out. But mostly, she just stared; out of the window, over the grounds of St. Mungos, and into a blurred point at the horizon. She ran through her memories and combed through every aspect of their friendship.

"Do you remember how shy you were in first year?" She'd asked, but of course there was no response. She chuckled. "Hard to believe, now."

But she was. Parvati had been too, if she were being honest with herself, but they'd made friends within the first month and that quickly faded. Together, they gave each other confidence and learned that as long as they had each other, there wasn't anything they couldn't do.

They discovered lip gloss together second year, and spent hours sprawled out on Lavenders bed trading colors and flavors. They'd even check with the other first before buying a new pot, just to make sure they weren't doubling. No need to waste the money if your best friend already had it.

Strawberry was Lavender's favorite.

Then their third year hit, and suddenly there were boys everywhere, according to Lavender, anyway. She seemed unable to talk of anything else, while Parvati just wanted to keep practicing braiding and taking the quizzes in Teen Witch Weekly.

Fourth year was rough. All Lavender could talk about was Seamus and his accent and how tall he'd gotten and, "do you think he was looking at me during lunch? It felt like he was looking at me." And for some ridiculous, teen girl reason, Parvati thought going to the Yule Ball with Harry Potter would make Lavender jealous enough to make her shut up about Seamus.

Fifth year was better. Lavender grew bored with Seamus, and while she was still as boy crazy as ever, it wasn't so new, so fresh, so it wasn't the only thing she wanted to talk about any more. Things felt back to normal, and they spent many a nights staying up late, whispering and giggling about one thing or another. Parvati felt like she had her friend back.

But then came their Sixth Year, and Lavender's weird obsession with Ron Weasley. Parvati could see it, the boy had grown into his height a little, and started playing on the Quidditch team, but he was still Ron Weasley. And he was a right arse, too. Lavender spent a week crying in Parvati's bed after he broke up with her and it was all Parvati could do not to punch him right in his ugly freckled nose.

Lavender's sorrow didn't last long, it never did, and soon she started spending more and more time with Riley Mavencroft, a dark haired Hufflepuff girl. Parvati was livid. Who did that girl think she was, and what right did she have to steal her best friend? That was a fight she'd never forget.

"So I guess she's your new best friend then," Parvati finally said, after the fourth time Lavender went to Hogsmeade with Riley instead of her. Lavender looked hurt, and confused.

"Parvati! No, never! I just -" but she stopped, her eyes staring at some unfocused spot on the bed as she thought for a moment. She looked back up at Parvati. "Have you ever… Ever felt the same way around a girl as you have a boy?"

But Parvati had no idea what she was getting at. "What are you saying?"

Lavender scrunched up her face, and her hands motioned through the air as she tried to find her words. "Like have you ever thought about - I don't know… kissing a girl?"

It was as though Parvati's breath was pulled from her chest. Her head swirled with so many emotions that it was dizzying, she didn't know what to say or which one to act on so she just pulled one from the whirlpool and for some reason the one she picked was anger.

The fight lasted over an hour, and they didn't speak for the next few weeks. When they finally did, it was tense and nothing was really the same.

Seventh year changed all of that. None of the petty stuff mattered any more, and they knew they needed each other if they were ever going to make it. They bunked up most nights, and made a deal to take turns crying.

"We can't both be useless at the same time," Lavender had joked.

It was those months when everything became clear to Parvati, when all the pieces fell together to form the most obvious picture in her head. She both loved, and was in love with her best friend.

"I'm trying here, Lav," Parvati said, barely holding back her tears and holding on tight to Lavender's hand. She hadn't let herself cry since she first stepped foot in the hospital. "But I'm going to need you to wake up real soon if we're going to hold true to our deal."

And then, her hand twitched. It was so light of a movement that at first, Parvati thought she'd imagined it but then a small but obvious noise came from Lavender's throat. It wasn't much, but it was the first sign of anything they'd had. Parvati ran to the door and called for a Healer.

Lavender moaned again and they rushed Parvati out of the room. She hurried to the nearest fireplace and moments later stood in the Browns' living room. It was late, nearing two in the morning, and by the time everyone woke, dressed, and flooed back to the hospital, Lavender was awake. Weak, but awake.

Lavender's family was ushered in first, leaving Parvati to wait outside. She paced the floor, wrung her hands, bit her lip, bounced on the balls of her feet, anything to distract herself.

"She's fine," said one of the younger nurses. He couldn't have been much older than she was. "I mean, I probably shouldn't tell you that but… I think, in the long run, she'll be okay."

Parvati smiled in an attempt to hold back her tears.

"Your name," he started, a smile playing at his lips, "your name was the first thing she said."

Her heart swelled and dropped at the same time. The nurse patted her on the shoulder and disappeared down the hall. A few minutes later, the door opened and out walked Lavender's parents.

"She's asking for you," Mrs. Brown said.

"We've got to contact her grandparents, if you want to go in," Mr. Brown added, ushering his wife towards the lobby.

Parvati nodded, and tried to be the calm and mature adult she wanted Lavender's parents to think she was, but the moment their backs were too her she rushed through the doors and all but ran to Lavender's bed, stopping only when their lips crashed together.

Warmth and joy radiated from her chest, making her feel as though she were melting into the bed and a shock traveled down her back when she felt Lavender's hand at the base over neck, pulling her closer.

She finally pulled away, tears rolling down her cheeks but a smile on her face. "I thought you were dead," she cried.

Lavender was crying too, but she smiled. "You taste like Strawberry."