ROMEO [2] ⚡ harry potter

10

LOOK OF THE MOTHERLESS
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Harry didn't want to leave her. He really didn't. His heart had been aching at the thought of four months without Charlotte Cardleman for the past week, but at the same time, it soared at the idea of going home again.

Now he was on the crowded, steamy platform nine and three quarters, his best friends boarding the scarlet train minutes before hand, standing far away from Lottie as she hugged Theodore Nott tight, making sure he promised to write. When she let go of her brother's embrace, she turned towards him, blue eyes wet and skin underneath them dark from lack of sleep due to last night's endeavours wandering the dark town as she caught his gaze from across the platform. That was a night he'd never forget, a night more magical than any charm. A single red rose was intertwined in her tangled blonde locks as they messily blew into her face which was makeup free and blotchy from tears, as she looked at him. Harry's stomach flipped as he stared at her for a moment, unsure what to do, or say.

Then she suddenly made a move, walking swiftly but clumsily towards him through the crowd, and he did the same, with some urgency, pushing the many students and parents aside before he reached her, and instantly snaked his arms around her petite body, as she wrapped hers around his middle, resting her head on his chest. Part of him was embarrassed of his pounding heartbeat which she could most likely hear, but part of him hoped it would beat a little louder, desperately wanting to communicate how he felt, without having to say it outright.

Harry Potter had fallen for Charlotte Cardleman that summer. Whether it was love, or some sort of childish endearment, he did not know. All he knew was that, at that moment, holding her, protecting her against all the evil he knew existed in the world, was all he wanted to do.

"I'll write everyday," he promised, still holding her tightly.

"You won't," Charlotte mumbled into the fabric of his shirt, and he could tell that this fact upset her. One of the first things he realised about this spectacular girl, was that she was lonely. Inexplicably so. He knew that look in her eye, caught it in the moments when she thought nobody was looking. It was the look of the motherless, the friendless, and he knew it because he too had braved that look, for many years. Sometimes he still saw it, etched onto his own face, a mask he could not remove.

And Merlin knew he'd tried.

"I'll write every week," he proposed and she pulled away, shaking her head. The parts of his body she had touched were left cold in her wake. "Fine. Every other week."

"You won't have the time," she shrugged, laughing casually but her voice was shaky.

"I'll make the time," Harry insisted. "I prom-"

"Don't," she cut him off, suddenly alarmed as she reached up and pressing a finger to his lips. A chill went through him. "Don't."

He felt his shoulders slouch in defeat, because he knew she was right. She knew it would hurt more if he promised. He wanted nothing more than to keep in touch with Charlotte, but the school year would be anything but normal. Along with schoolwork and possible, or rather- inevitable, conflict, Harry wouldn't put it past himself to break his promise. But he would try, nevertheless.

"I'll watch you go," Charlotte dropped her hand and stood on her tip-toes, planting a shy kiss which was aimed for his right cheek, but with her being so small and him being so lanky, it ended up on the corner of his mouth. She pulled away, blushing and stuttering an apology but he just smiled, letting her know it was fine. Then she reached for the rose in her hair and put it in the top pocket of his checked shirt.  "Be safe, Romeo."