The Quiet Kind Of Beauty -Marauder Era

Chapter 34

As soon as Clara was by herself in her room, she groaned and pulled her hair over her face. She cursed herself, and made her way to her bed, flopping face forward into the soft sheets. Groaning again, she pulled her blanket over her head.

You're a fool, Clara Campbell, if you thought you could appear suave in front of Sirius Black, she thought in despair.

Still, she couldn't get the picture of him blushing out of her head.

She huffed out a small laugh, and rubbed her eyes.

She stayed under the covers for a little while longer, drawing absent minded circles onto the cotton sheets as she thought about the precise shade of grey his iris' in the sunlight. Sleep nudged her mind as she got dangerously close to the thought of his hands, how they were truly very nice to hold, and whether the rest of him felt that gentle.

She slid the sheets off her head, and took a deep, calming breath.

Finally acknowledging that sleep loomed over her, she rolled out of bed and changed into the first pair of pajamas she could find, a matching set of deep red pajama bottoms and a red cotton tank top.

She gently opened the door, and stepped into the hallway. There were no voices or noises to be heard, so Clara hoped the rest were already asleep, or still in the main house. Acting quickly, she slid into the bathroom at the end of the hall, and got to work. She brushed her teeth, removed her contact lenses, and washed her face. Then, she changed into her pj's, carefully folding the clothing she wore in the day and setting them on the sink. She surveyed herself in the mirror, as she always did, and found the same irritating things about herself until she told herself to stop. Instead she turned around to look at her back, at the two dark marks on her shoulder blades. They really did look like a tattoo, stark black against the lightness of her skin.

Clues. She had all the clues.

~*~

That night, she dreamt of a memory.

It was hazy, a little faded, like an old photograph that had been left in the sun for longer than it should have. When Clara first opened her eyes to meet the white walls of her dreamscape, she was surprised to see that the stark walls were nowhere to be seen, replaced by the lush gardens in the backyard of the house Clara had grown up. Flowers swayed in the sun, bending their stems forward so that their petals brushed Clara's bare toes. Clara felt the heat of summer on her face, the touch of the sun smoothing away the frost on her skin. Eventually, she realised the figure standing in the middle of the garden and, for a moment, she thought she was facing herself. Another Clara stood directly in front of her, auburn hair clipped back to keep the curls at bay, doe-like eyes gentle and inviting.

Clara stared, slightly unnerved. Her body tensed, one foot taking a cautious step back. She had been trapped in her dreams often enough to know that her mind was not always working in her favour. She quickly scanned her copy, an odd combination of recognition and confusion slowly filling her. The woman looked like her, but as Clara dug deeper, she noticed the fine lines around her mouth, and the wedding ring on her finger.

Clara's mouth went dry.

"Mom." She whispered, voice barely audible.

Louise Campbell smiled. "Hello, darling."

Clara's throat burned. "What's going on?"

Louise laughed, and the sound was enough to fill Clara with warmth. "I'm just here to see my daughter," She said fondly.

Clara's heart ached. "Is this real?" she asked warily, taking another cautious step back.

"What do you think?"