SCARRED.

The London Underground should have been safe. It felt sacred. It was the only place she was sure no wizards or witches would find their way too and recognise her scarred face. But these days Lavender’s luck was pure shite so of course her eyes would lift up from their fixed point on the ground to find the other Hogwarts alumni. A hand went to move one side of her headphones away from her ear. Misery was as deeply etched into her face as her scars, no hint of a smile teasing her lips.

“Oh. It’s you. Hey.”

“Why are yer eyes so bloodshot?”

“Oh, Come on! You know you want to dance with me. Quit being difficult.”

“Maybe I’m just playing hard to get.”

                          “Honestly, what do you think of this place? It seems sort of boring for my tastes.”

“Only if you’re not drinking right.”

@lavenderbrcwn

“This is your last chance!” Pat warned, grinning over the side of the pillow fort they’d just completed. With a leap, they hugged Lavender into a pile of pillows. “I win!”

Lavender let out a high-pitched squeal as they tackled her, the sound an echo of her old self. Her arms folded around their slim shoulders as the pair of them came tumbling down, the pillows with them. “You cheated. At least I showed good sportsmanship.”

The situation progressively became more uncomfortable as the pair stood in the center of the crowded ward, chaos reigning around them. While usually drawn to the girl’s quick wit and bright personality, something gnawed at Michael and made him want to plunge back into dealing with the patients scattered around him. He tried to smile and shrug at the question, only managing a concerned look with a short chuckle. “Aye, it’s a crazy day,” he said quickly, waving his hands about to indicate the state of the hospital. Why in the world was she here? And why was she behaving as though she’s seen a ghost? He wondered briefly if the sight of the blood and relative carnage around the room was enough to make her stomach turn, but Michael couldn’t help but assume this wasn’t the case. She was hiding something from him. The way her laugh broke nervously, her dark eyes searching for an escape, it became painfully obvious that he was obstructing her from her goal. He’d stumbled into some sort of secret that he had no business knowing - but this was his territory. On any other day, in any other place, Michael would likely have found himself standing pleasantly to the side, happy to forget this encounter had happened. But not today.

The way the other healer’s name exited her lips, Michael almost didn’t understand what the girl had said at first. He found himself leaning forward as though he expected more, an explanation or an elaboration that wasn’t to come. The words echoed in his head without clicking, his eyes searching his friend’s ashen expression for an answer until it rang in his ears, the implication painfully obvious. “King.” Michael repeated without meaning to, his eyes narrowed as his gaze fell sideways and down to the floor in thought. Pieces of information flooded back, his mind trying to cycle through a compendium of memories to make sense of what the dark-haired girl had just admitted. Despite his best attempts at piecing this information into some sort of logical framework, some explanation that would negate what she’d just said, he couldn’t manage it. Michael’s head began to bob gently, nodding as though in a trance, as he lifted an arm to gently place behind Lavender’s back to shepherd her through the chaotic room. “Right. This way,” He said quietly, leading her from the room and beyond the swinging double doors and into the quiet hallway beyond.

As the door swung shut behind him, Michael paused, his eyes finding Lavender’s as they stood stock still. “This isn’t something new. The next full moon’s coming up in a few days, ” Michael said flatly, not a question so much as a statement of truth he’d managed to glean from the situation. He wasn’t sure how he was feeling in the moment - his skin seemed electric, each hair standing on end as he continued to stare intently at Lavender, unflinching. He’d often felt like he pitied those with the sort of affliction she bore - carrying it around like a yoke that was impossible to shed. As he stared at his friend however, the sense of pity he’d imagined feeling faded to be replaced with an intense respect - not only for the girl who stood in front of him, but for the strength it must have taken to not only survive the initial attack but to endure on a daily basis. He hard a hard time envisioning what he’d do confronted with a similar obstacle, let alone something so permanent and stigmatizing. Finally, his pursed lips broke into a hint of a smile.

“Godric, Lavender - the way you were acting I thought you only had a week to live or summat. I…I know you probably didn’t want to tell me about this. Frankly, I feel sort of dense that, as a Healer, I didn’t know sooner. Tell me - is it well managed? I know King usually takes on most of the toughest cases,” He said with quiet understanding, his hand subconsciously rubbing the small of the girl’s back. His voice was devoid of fear or condescension, his face kind as he elaborated. “You know if you ever need me to grab anything from the hospital for you that I would, right?”

She could remember the first time she met Healer Alexander King, the very same day she woke up in hospital after the battle of Hogwarts, her face stinging. A greying man with kind eyes but thin lips that so rarely smiled at her, he had sat on the end of her bed, patted her leg and told her it was manageable. That there were potions for the pain and control. Potions Lavender Brown couldn’t afford. Perhaps she could ask her parents to pay and eventually give them the money back but then she would have to admit to her family that she was a werewolf — and she had managed to go nearly two years without them finding out and with her father’s weakening heart… she didn’t want to take the risk. She didn’t want to see anymore disappointment crumple their faces. She could hear her sister, Violet’s, voice.

“Godric Lavender. How did you manage to fuck up so much that you got yourself turned into a werewolf?”

“Yeah,” she said softly, eyes falling away from Michael’s face. “King.” His soft touch landed on her back and though it was a far cry from a push, she did little to resist it, following his guided walk. She should’ve told him before. But a small part of her figured that he already knew. Whether he could’ve guessed from the scars that marred her formally pretty features or just from the rumours (were there rumours about her? She figured there would be). Her jaw clenched, the pain of her teeth grinding grounding her. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. Was she really going to cry? Did Michael Corner matter to her that much that she was about to break down in public? At least it was in a hospital of all places. People would just assume a healer was telling a visitor bad news.

She couldn’t make out any emotion on his face, though maybe that was because of the tears threatening to spill over. “N— no. The battle,” she whispered, breath hitching. “Greyback attacked me.” The memory of him, half-wolf half-man, lunging at her through the air as she fell from the balcony made her shiver. For so long, she had thought the stars had fated her to die that night and when Hermione Granger saved her from Greyback’s attack, the universe had decided to punish her with lycanthropy for upsetting their course. “The full moon’s in a few days,” she repeated, though she wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like it was a reminder of her. Even before her attack, she had mapped the moon’s cycle. Once she had turned, her mapping had become almost religious. She counted down the days, her stomach sinking with each change of the moon.

When he finally spoke up, a tear or two escaped from her watering eyes and before she really knew what he was doing, she threw herself at him and wrapped her arms around him in a hug. She clutched onto him like he was a life ring and she was struggling to swim. Eventually, she stood up, running a hand under her eyes and trying for a small smile that matched his. “I’m sorry I just— I don’t know why, I was just really worried that you’d be… scared of me. Or hate me. It was kind of nice that you didn’t know.” She sniffed. “I should’ve known better.” Her sad smile lifted slightly, eyes still wet. “It’s… not good. I can’t afford insurance so no wolfsbane for me,” she sank, trying to make light of such a serious matter. “I see Healer King every month because of the pain when I…. when I change. It’s not a fun time.” Another pathetic attempt at humor.

Her face broke out into a smile as Lavender reached for the vial. Memories of the last time they had taken the drug made her squeeze her thighs together as she sat beside her. Romilda was already moving Lavender’s hair out of the way and kissing down her neck before she had even uncorked the bottle. She tasted the sweetness of Bliss as her tongue traced over her lips and tongue. “Hmmm, thank me later,” she whispered into her mouth, laughing as she spoke. Romilda didn’t need Bliss tonight. She wanted to enjoy this– sober. Not wasting any time she pushed Lavender down to lie on the couch and slipped both hands beneath her shirt. Soft fingers lightly brushed her skin before pushing the fabric up, her lips soon following the trail her fingers were making. She kissed up her stomach, her wet tongue dipping into her belly button. 

Romilda pulled back, studying her features as she spoke. “Okay,” she shrugged not giving what Lavender had said any deeper thought. She wasn’t going to jeopardize her chance for another night of bliss. Bliss. The word rang through her mind as she started planting light kisses on Lavender’s neck. Her kisses trailed up to her ear where she whispered, “I’ll be right back.” Romi hurried towards the spare bedroom that she used as a potions laboratory and found the potion she had been looking for. With a smile on her face, she reentered the sitting area. “I thought you could use this. Take the edge off.” 

Romilda’s reaction — or her lack of reaction — was almost worse than if she had pushed the scar issue. She felt a twist. Romilda didn’t care. But what did she expect? They’d hung out like three times, had so far slept together two out of three times and one of those was when they were high as kites. Lavender tried to let the thoughts melt away and focus on the trail of kisses Romilda was leaving on her neck and let a soft sigh escape from her lips. "Yeah,” Lavender swallowed, watching Romi leave, anxious for her return. When she did, and Lavender spotted the vial, a smile dimpled her cheeks. Bliss was exactly what she needed. “Good idea.” Eager fingers reached for it, uncorked it, bringing it to her lips. It was just as sweet as she remembered it to be and as soon as she swallowed it, she was sure it had started to take affect. “Thank you,” her voice was a whisper as she held out the potion to Romilda, the familiar need to bring their lips together taking over. “Oh fuck,” she hissed, eyes fluttering closed. “I nearly forgot how good that was.”

To say that Parvati was confused was an understatement. Wands had temperament, Mr. Ollivander had taught her this her first day. Wands usually liked her, she was good to them. This particular one, not so much. Willow, ten and a half inches, veela hair core. Parvati was attempting to put carvings into the wood but the wand kept jumping out of her hands, like it already knew she wasn’t the right one. 

The bell at the front of the shop tinkled lightly. She jumped up, glad for the distraction of a customer. “Welcome to Ollivander’s, how can I help you?”

“Vati?” The bell jingled above her head in time with her voice calling out her friend’s name. She had no need for a new wand ( the same one she had bought when she was eleven years old sat in it’s worn leather holster on her hip ) but she did want to see Parvati. Anything to procrastinate going home and being alone until she fell asleep. “You can help me by leaving early,” she grinned, leaning across the counter that separated them. “I just finished my shift with the seer and thought I’d stop by.” 

@aliciaspinnet-swiped

The March weather was seemingly at war with itself. The sun was desperate to break through the thick layer of grey clouds — and failing, it would seem. There was a strong smell of rain in the air. The sky was still bright despite the evening threatening to turn into dusk. Lavender was surprised that Roasted was still open. Probably for the Ministry stragglers that were late leaving work and desperate for a bit of energy. 

Butterflies were fluttering around in her stomach as she waited in line, craning her neck to keep an eye on the front door. When the notification that she’d received a match, she had swiped up without so much as a second thought. It would be really, really nice to have a girlfriend. Or just a few dates with a pretty girl that made her feel good about herself. Her last match had gone well — really well — but it was clear Romilda was after something different.

“Just a herbal tea — yeah, raspberry and blackberry. Thank you.” A decaffeinated drink would be the wisest decision when she was already bouncing on the balls of her feet. The mug was slid across the counter to her, as well as a small pot of boiling water. She lifted the both of them and walked over to an empty table for two slowly. She set them down, straightening up, still searching for a date. She ought to have been there already considering she was ‘reliable.’