Calamity (Theodore Nott + Cedric Diggory)

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FOUR
LORELEI ALEXIS SPEARS

*Trigger warning (Themes of suicide and abuse, alcohol abuse)*

I ran.

I ran far away from Colby and everything in that common room. I ran away from Blaise, Theodore, Mattheo, and the many other people who lingered in those corridors who would judge me for what I am.

I didn’t know where I was going, or what I was doing. I was just letting myself run away from all my problems.

A few minutes later, I found myself stopping. I held onto the corner of the hall, gasping for breath between sobs that I struggled so hard to keep from escaping my lips.

My only comfort I had then was myself. I was all alone in that hall, crying my eyes out just like the pathetic little mud-blood I am.

I collapsed.

I had felt like this before…

I was born in France.

My parents owned a small vineyard and ran a little winery across the town. It was a small building, with one small office, and a basement, with a main floor that was decorated beautifully.

It had a cozy feeling to it. The floor was made from an old oak, as well as the ceiling. The place smelled of sweet wine, and freshly brewed coffee; as my mother would make herself one every morning.

My family name was well respected in the town we lived in. My parents held it well. The reputation was expected to be upheld by my older brother and I, Lucas, who we called Luke.

Luke was six years older than me. But we got along quite well. I think he was just happy that he had another kid to play with. Even if I was a girl, and younger than him. We were close, and we could never be separated from each other.

Just like me, Lucas was the spitting image of our mother. He had wavy hair that was a roasted chestnut color. Although his eyes were more green than mine, they still had a hint of brown, giving them a warm hazel ambre. People would’ve thought we were twins if we weren’t so far apart in age.

Our mother was kind, small, and delicate. She was the one to mainly take care of us while our father ran the vineyard and the winery. She always had this comforting element to her. I loved her for all she did for me and Luke.

Our father was hardworking, strong, and reliant. He loved us and our mother more than anyone could have imagined. But it was always quite obvious that his favorite was Luke. I didn’t mind too much. I still knew he loved me.

We were a happy family. We didn’t have much money. But we had each other, the vineyard, and that old winery.

In the Summer, Luke and I would chase each other through the rows and rows of vines. We laughed, played, and cried. Sometimes we worked. I would always be tying and trimming the vines behind Lucas, who would always be in charge of picking the grapes. He claimed it was because it was more entertaining to pick the vines than tie them. I thought it was just because he couldn’t tie a knot to save his life.