Cottage Roads ° james potter

-xiii. less than 20 questions

❛ Let's go fishing out on the lake ❜

Two days had now gone by and the memory of the party was a bit fuzzy for Claire. She had fun, but Hannah ended up vomiting all over the bathroom floor of their dormitory so you guessed it, Caire was left as a babysitter. James came upstairs and tried getting her to come down because she was missing the party but she declined.

Anyways, Claire decided to drag James to the library on that bright Sunday afternoon. Usually, that was something she and Remus did but today seemed to be an exception. It had only been about twenty minutes until James began whining.

"It's a beautiful day out, we are in a library," he stated.

Claire didn't bother looking up and only answered with a, "Correct." He pulled her book away from her and skimmed the pages.

"How do you read this? It's all old and-"

"It's poetry, you're not supposed to understand it immediately, it takes time," Claire explained. James looked back at the book but then shook his head and gave it back to Claire.

"Still don't get it."

Claire was about to go back to reading when James suddenly began packing up her things. She looked up and asked, "What are you doing?"

"We're going on a walk."

"No, I don't think so."

"Yes we are, come on," he grabbed her hand and pulled her out of her seat. Reluctantly, she walked out of the library with him and grabbed her bag from his hand. They didn't see many people while walking through the halls, most of them were probably outside anyway. James agreed to stay in the castle but still insisted on walking.

"I really don't understand this. We're just walking. Not going anywhere. Just walking," Claire commented.

"That's the fun in it. We don't know where we're going."

"You call that fun?"

"You call reading poetry fun?'

"Fair."

"Here, we could get to know each other better," James suggested. Claire's palms began sweating. She wasn't sure if he would want to know anything about her. She didn't exactly have the best life.

"I think we know each other pretty well already," she asked.

"Not well enough," he denied. "How about twenty questions? That'll make this easier." Claire tried protesting but it was no use. He already started talking. "We'll switch off. When's your birthday."

"July 8th," Claire answered. "And yours?"

"March 27th, I'm older!"

"Congratulations," she deadpanned. "My turn, umm, do you prefer coffee or tea?"

"Tea, of course tea, you?"

"Coffee."

He gave her a jokingly judgmental look that made her laugh. "Do you prefer the sun or the moon?"

"Sun."

"Sun," he agreed.

"Oh I have a good one, what's your favorite food?" Claire asked. Why is everything about food? she asked herself.

"Dunno, my mum makes pretty good pancakes, probably that. I already know yours." Claire gave him a look that said 'really? '. "It's mac n' cheese isn't it?"

Claire looked away when he was correct, "Maybe."

He gave her a laugh and asked the one question she was praying he wouldn't ask, "What about your family? What are they like?'

"Oh, well I live with my grandparents, I have since I was three. They're great I suppose I just get a bit lonely sometimes." Claire told, keeping her eyes glued to the floor.

"Your parents?" James asked, he looked up and sensed her discomfort. "If you don't want to talk about it that's completely fine, I understand--"

"No, no. It's okay." It wasn't okay. "Well, when I was three, my mum and dad were-- um," she cleared her throat, "k-killed by uhm, Fenrir Greyback, so I was left with my grandparents, who are muggles. Not that that's a bad thing, they just don't really talk about any of this at all. Honestly, I didn't even want to come to Hogwarts because magic just seemed so awful."

James listened with a sad frown. He couldn't imagine not having his parents. He couldn't imagine losing his parents at such a young age and in such an awful way. He couldn't imagine what it's like to be Claire. He latched onto her hand when she sniffed quietly. He had stopped walking which made her look up and let out a short and fake laugh.

"Sorry," she whispered, wiping away a fallen tear. "I haven't talked about this in years."

He gave her a weak smile and before Claire knew it, he was hugging her. His chin was rested on her head and his arms wrapped around her shoulders. "Don't be sorry. It's good for you to talk about it. You can't bottle it all up," he said softly.

With her forehead leaning against his chest, she could smell his minty scent and it brought comfort to her. While they were in their embrace, a whole lot of memories came flooding back to her.

She could remember her mother's laugh and her father's voice. She could see their smiles and the way they sang and danced every Sunday morning while making breakfast. She remembered things she'd never even thought of before. Like her third Christmas when they were opening gifts and Claire received a beautiful porcelain doll. Her third birthday when she smeared her cake all over her father's face. Her third Halloween when she dressed up as a dinosaur and made all her neighbors go aww.

Everything went back to when she was three. The year her life fell apart.

She pulled away from James and gave him a bright smile. He returned it and as they continued down the hall, she realized that maybe, for the first time in a long time, everything would be okay.