mirrorball

chapter ten

"Er- Harry?"

"Godric. What do you want?" said Harry, annoyance lining his every word.

"Well, everyone's quite sad that you're up here. Mrs. Weasley even started decorating for Christmas, tomorrow is Christmas Eve after all. She wanted to wait for you but- well there's still some to do! If you came out now you could help with the tree."

"I don't really fancy decorating a tree right now, thanks."

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Excuse you?"

"You can't just shut yourself away from everyone who cares about you!" Clara's voice had risen and she had now started screaming at Harry through the door. It was quite awkward, she felt as though the door didn't deserve this negative attention, but until he opened it she would just have to deal with it.

"It's not that simple!" Harry's tone matched hers and she was certain the whole house could hear them by now.

"It never is with you. Why don't you just talk to someone and tell them what you're feeling? It's not that hard!"

"Oh yeah, ok, how are you feeling right now, Clara? Open up to me! Tell me about your darkest secrets!"

"That's completely off topic!" Clara said, clearing her throat.

"Sure it is. Don't expect me to talk about my feelings if you won't talk about yours! Or did you forget that we're not friends?"

Clara let out a sigh and slid down so that she was sitting with her back against the door. She sat there for a long time, just sitting and thinking. She turned her head and pondered her mind for words.

"Harry."

"Clara." he snarled.

"I am feeling unhelpful. I've been sent to get you and I've been unsuccessful so far. It's a very... unsatisfactory feeling."

There was no response, only silence. Clara gently knocked on the door with the back of her hand.

"Your turn." she said softly.

"I'm feeling" there was a long pause and Clara anxiously waited for any signal of hope, "Dangerous? I feel like it's my fault that Mr. Weasley was attacked."

"Harry, it's not your fault. Why would you ever think that?"

The door creaked open and Clara scrambled to her feet. Harry bent his head into the room and Clara quickly ran inside. He closed the door and sat on a small bed that creaked under his weight. 

"I saw the attack."

"Are you high?"

"No! Ok I'm not fucking doing this if you're not going to take me seriously!"

"I am taking you seriously! You just look like shit."

It was true, his eyes had large bags under them and his hair was pushed upwards as if someone had tried to pull it from its roots. His shirt was loose, and Clara frowned at the tear stained pillow.

"Thanks, that's really kind of you."

"I'm just trying to be honest. So er- you were there when Mr. Weasley was attacked?"

"No, I just saw it."

Mrs. Weasley's call for dinner made the pair look at the door. Clara pulled the sleeves of her sweater down over her hands, it was getting quite cold in here.

"I'm not sure I follow."

Harry let out a sigh and glared at her.

"When I sleep I get these visions, I guess. It's like I can see exactly what Voldemort is doing. I know what he's feeling, what he's thinking, and I saw Mr. Weasley get attacked."