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HP green_ring

ficlet: an oddment on this hand dealt

Posted on 2016.02.02 at 22:10
Tags: ,
Here comes the second valentine!

Title: an oddment on this hand dealt
Characters: Lavender Brown
Genre: Gen
Rating: PG
Word Count: 406
Summary: A half-shifted Death Eater werewolf once bowled Lavender over a balcony and savaged her neck. She lived.
Notes: Written for the prompt "Women and Disability/Chronic Illness".

The Ministry classifies Lavender Brown as a human witch. Three years after rogue werewolves killed dozens but Remus Lupin gave his life in the Battle of Hogwarts, actual werewolves still face discrimination. Nevertheless, there are days Lavender thinks her life would be easier if she was one.

She grows beyond irritable at prominent phases of the moon and craves raw meat at the oddest times. Her scars are as yet impervious to spells or make-up. There are weeks she can barely talk. For three days a month her legs and arms look impossible, and worse - for three days a month her whole body aches as if it wants to shift. It never can.

If he had infected her properly, there’d be precedents and knowledge at St. Mungo’s on how to treat her. The closest comparison the mediwizards have is Bill Weasley; however - Ron’s oldest brother may have more scars to show for his encounter with Greyback but is still cursed with fewer symptoms than Lavender is.

One day, someone will come up with the perfect recipe for her Wolfsbane potion. Lavender faithfully takes the experimental mixtures St. Mungo’s sends her and tries to ignore the side-effects apart from the five minutes set aside to document them. She’s becoming well versed in advanced Brewing Theory by virtue of this routine alone.

Back at Hogwarts she used to get decent grades in Potions, but even if she could somehow attain a mastery and divine the perfect composition, she’d still never be able to wield all the ingredients she’d need to brew her own medicine.

As often as her condition allows it, she flies out to the Forbidden Forrest and studies astrology with the Centaurs. Most days Firenze’s people treat her like a child, but being welcomed into their midst at all is no small thing, and every now and then, even Bane will bow his magnificent head in surprise that she has learned something. Those are the days she comes close to owling George Weasley that he doesn’t need to keep wasting time trying to custom-invent her a blemish cream.

If he ever comes up with one, the cost of it, like that of her monthly vials that are so much more difficult to brew than the average Wolfsbane, will be covered by the Dumbledore’s Army Veteran’s Fund. Horoscopes - even ones written together with Centaurs - don’t exactly pay a fortune.

Lavender is a war hero. It’s NOT charity.


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