make art not war.

Get Me Lavender/Parvati

Parvati pelted down the stairs, robes flying out behind her, and when this was over she was going to make a case for more sensible battle clothes because these were just hazardous. 

She had left Padma and Dean the moment she saw Lavender fall. It was one floor, just one floor, she could survive one floor, it was one floor, played on a loop in her head. Half the stairs had been destroyed by one of the hundreds of spells flying around, and she leaped over more bodies than she cared to think about. She could worry about helping other people, or, she choked on the thought, burying other people, after she found Lavender. 

Harry, Ron, and Hermione ran past her, wands out and blind to anything other than what was directly in front of them. Then Hermione’s face went white with panic and Parvati’s heart stopped. The werewolf, Greyback, was on top of Lavender’s body. 

“NO,” Hermione roared. Whatever spell she cast sent him flying, and then there was a crack, a crystal ball? Parvati did not stop to see whether or not this war had finally driven her mad, she just ran until she was at Lavender’s side. Dropping to her knees, she could hardly breathe, let alone see through her tears. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” she whispered. “Please, no.”

All of the healing spells Neville insisted they learn were evading her. Lavender’s breathing was slowing by the second. The blood, too much blood, was pooling around her, and Parvati was failing. She couldn’t save her. She had promised she would save her. 

She took a deep breath, then another. Wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. 

“Vulnera Sanentur,” she whispered, passing her wand over the largest wounds. If she made this clinical, maybe it wouldn’t overwhelm her. She repeated the spell over and over until the blood stopped leaving Lavender’s body, until her shallow breathing became a little steadier, a little stronger. 

The bite marks in her neck were the last to begin healing, but the would scar. Lavender wouldn’t like that. But there was nothing Parvati could do for a werewolf bite, even one inflicted without a full moon. They would all have battle scars after this. 

“Parvati?” Lavender groaned. It was the best thing Parvati had heard all year.