ROMEO [2] ⚡ harry potter

34

OCEAN
...
..
.

It was the third of May 1998. The Cardleman household in London had recieved an owl in the early hours of the morning. When Charlotte had seen it soaring towards her window as she prepared for school, she'd felt  jolt in her stomach and a flood of hope as she flung open the window. If there was post, that meant there was no fear, and if there was no fear, that meant-

Charlie,
The war is over. We'll be home soon. I can't wait to see you.
Love,
Theodore.

After reading the letter, she'd stumbled across her room, banging her hip on the table in order to pick up the black picture frame which rested on it, and read triumphant. She'd released a relieved exhalation, chest heaving.

It hadn't taken her long to fly down the stairs and into the white living room, press the button Sirius had charmed to connect their fireplace to the Floo network and left, leaving behind a note to her father which she attached to the fridge door.

Both Richard and Gretel were asleep, the ginger lady had left for maternity leave several months earlier, and now the baby was due to arrive any day.

Charlotte landed in her old home, dusting off cinders that had settled onto her yellow school uniform and rushing to brush out her hair, and wash her face, and put on a little bit of makeup. She wanted to look her best.

Now, as she sat by her bedroom window, she felt sick to her stomach. People would be dead. Understandable, and unfortunately inevitable- but who were the ones who wouldn't make it back? Her mind had instantly gone to Harry, for she knew he would have been on the forefront of it all. Triumphant didn't necessarily mean alive.

Charlotte must have been at the window for hours, for the sun had risen high up in the air and she'd had to get a book in hand, before someone finally Apparated into the cinder covered streets. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of Harry Potter, trudging towards the front door, but Charlotte Cardleman beat him to it, rushing downstairs and flinging open the door to find him standing there with his fist raised to knock.

She was at a loss for words as Harry smiled shyly, holding a hand behind his back. With the one that was free, he held it out to her, and she placed her palm in his, for him to raise them to his lips, kissing her hand gently, before revealing his hidden one, in which he carried a single red rose. The rose was charred from fire, and blackened at the edges, but it still preserved its shape, beauty, meaning.

"I kept this safe," he told her, as she took the rose. "Through the entire battle. 'Cause when I saw it, on a bush in Hogsmeade... I had to give it to you. This was the only one that had bloomed. It's not much of a present but... I promise I'll get you something better, once the bank and the shops are running normally again-"

"Come inside," she beckoned, breathlessly after thanking him, as she stepped aside, putting the rose in a skinny vase that rested on a shelf on the wall, discarding the dead white one that was already resting there. She turned to face him, her heart racing but her mind slowing her down, reminding her to take precautions. And then, once her hands were free, she made her way to the sitting room, where he had dumped his bag.

They stood directly across from one another. Charlotte, in her yellow skirt and socks and pristine white school blouse, and Harry, in his jeans which were ripped, not for fashion, but to expose cuts on the skin beneath, and black jumper, which he held onto the cuffs of. His hair was wet and he smelled of soap, and she wondered when he'd had the time to wash after everything she could only imagine had happened. She resisted kissing him.