Cleverly

New Ideas

Breccan,

I don't know how else to say this, but I don't think it'll work out. I not only mean Thursday, I mean us in general. Things are really confusing... I can't explain every

Cleverly stopped writing.

"I don't know what I'm saying," she sighed and set her forehead down on the table.

"Well, what do you want to say?" Ferg asked across from her.

"I don't know! I like him, I really do. The only thing is he doesn't know that I don't have a real family. He doesn't know I don't have a real home. And I know if we did become a 'thing' he would find out about it all. I don't want him to know and think less of me."

"If he really liked you, he wouldn't think less of you," Ferg encouraged.

"He would be mad at me for lying to him for seven years!" She shouted. "I lied to him for seven years," she said quieter to no one.

Ferg slammed his hand on the table. "I think you should meet him on Thursday. See how things go and decide from there."

Cleverly knew that that was what she should do. There was just a small part in the back of her mind that didn't want to. No matter how much she liked Breccan she knew it could never work out. But she did like him and that part of her brain urged her to gladly accept.

Breccan,

Thursday sounds great! I'm looking forward to it! See you soon!!!

Cleverly

"What do you think?" She asked Ferg, sliding the piece of parchment across the table to him, where he was sipping his tea. "Is this better?"

"You sound overeager."

"Is that bad?"

"It might give him the wrong idea."

She grumbled and pulled out a new piece of parchment. They had been at this for awhile. Cleverly had gulped down her tea ages ago. Ferg was still sipping his slowly.

Breccan,

I'm free Thursday. See you then!

Cleverly

She didn't really know what to say. Maybe it was too short, but she was sick of dealing with it today. She also didn't know how to close the letter. Love, Cleverly? You're friend, Cleverly? None of those seemed right so she stuck with just signing her name at the bottom.

"Good. Now we can send it and be done with this boy!" Ferg said. "I'll take it with me to mail later."

"Thanks," she mumbled. "I need a butterbeer."

"I'll buy you one," Ferg offered.

"No, no, you don't have to. I was only saying I needed one, like when you say I need some food. Or when you say, 'I'm starving'. You're not actually starving you're just exaggerating to get your point across. You see--ugh...nevermind."

"Nonsense. On me." Ferg got up to order one. Cleverly sat there at their small table in the corner. She looked around. People were going in and out after a day of shopping. Some people sat alone with a drink in hand. Others chatted loudly with small groups of people.

Lets see...twenty four hours ago I was on the train, she thought. Was it really only that long ago? It didn't feel right. It felt like days and days ago that she had been at Hogwarts.