May 2nd 1994
Song for this chapter: Je te laisserai des mots
📍The Black lake
Astrid grabbed the small picture frame off her night stand—quietly going down the dorm stairs and out to the black lake.
She spread a small picnic sheet by the water—one with blue bell flowers printed all over it—underneath a shady area where the tall oak tree stood.
Pulling objects out from her large straw bag and neatly placing them onto the sheet, a bundle of the lavender and daisies that grew around the forests edges during spring and a folded card she had made herself. She propped up a framed photo on the sheet—showing the boy in it the marvellous view before her, one he had often spoke of.
The sound of water was as gentle as could be, no crashing waves or cracking of ice Winter always brought. It was peaceful—aside from the singing birds and the light winds gliding over the water, nothing was heard.
Soft music drifted in one of her ears—the other bud of her earphones lay by the photo, for him too hear as well.
In the very middle stood a crooked two layered cake, not so special—poorly iced and terribly decorated with chocolate frosting and whole strawberries messily crowding the top of the tilting cake. Chocolate was his favourite—he would like it she thought he would think it good enough, everything she did was good enough for him. Perhaps even more than enough.
Since the first year she had arrived to Hogwarts, she would slip away on the second of May and pour all her sorrows out to the Black lake—too be washed away by the gentle waves.
She would stay for as long as she knew she could—even brushed her hair and placed a bow neatly in it for the occasion. Sitting and watching the sun fully rise above the castle with him. Knowing she would receive no post at all on this warm yet cool day of May. She would send none either, for she had no one to send anything special too, not anymore.
It was not the bright rays of the sun warming her cheeks or blinding her hazel eyes that would push her to hurry up and get back into the castle—preparing for a day of classes.
But a boy who embodied the sun and nothing less, his bright smile warming her cold heart and his gaze, soft and pitiful, razor sharp to her own eye.
Cedric Diggory would come looking for her—stumbling upon her by the lake and would draw a breath before he ever approached the back turned too him. His hands intertwined in nervousness and the breaking of his own heart dim before her broken heart. It was May second, his heart felt half empty on this day, perhaps one day he would mourn with her. One day the facade would come to a rest and he would sit by her side, just as broken down and cuss the boy—who's light he absorbed—for leaving them.
The day had not come in the last two years and nor was it this day—but she was sure it would come, for even a badger could fall weak.
She would startle greatly at his presence but never say anything, silently begging for him to allow her to remain broken for a minute to two longer before her own facade took over. And what for, she would return too her dorm before her friends woke but they still knew—they always knew.
Now she sat in silence, still alone and the sun slowly lifting too the very top of the sky where it would watch over them all until the moon began to inch upwards and take its golden place in the sky.
Rotating he would scold her it rotates, silly
Astrid sighed and still in the lukewarm May weather her breath came out like dragon smoke—oh how she wished too be a dragon or a fair maiden, waiting to be rescued by a prince. To be anything and anyone but herself—anyone but Astrid Clearwater who felt pained every May second now.
She reached for the golden frame that held a picture of the two—moving and smiling, taken most definitely by her father who used to tell her the story of the picture every time he passed by the living room and saw it hung up on the large wall—many frames decorating it
Now there was no wall of pictures and she was forgetting the story too
She was forgetting him—she thought, but no, she could not, she would be betraying him if she forgot
Her eyes—if they were beams of laser—would pierce two large holes right though the framed photo. Tears she did not want to roll down her cheeks taunting her as memories flooded her aching mind.
Here he was, pulling the zipper of her yellow jacket up too her chin and scolding her for not wearing the touqe her mother had desperately tried placing on her head since they had walked out the door. The weather as cold as November's were in London—colder in the outdoor stands where they would watch his game from.
Astrid knew she would cherish the photo for the rest of her life—along with the girl she had been and the brother she had not yet lost.
A photo to cherish and keep close too her heart because Merlin knew she could not do such a thing too the people in the photo. He was just as lost now too her as she was.
An enchanted photo to remember how he smiled and that he did in fact smile—a conflicted thought, for if he had been happy, why did he go, unless he hadn't and he was really dead and she a fool for thinking otherwise
With her wand she lit up the two dainty gold coloured candles "incendio"
And waited for a gust of wind to blow them out—watching as the wax dripped onto the horribly made cake
In utter silence she watched the cake, candle wax burning into frosting and the smell of smoky chemicals waft into the air. Sat by the card she made this year were the cards she had made every year on his birthday in the past—more things that did not belong too her.
She didn't eat the cake, nor cut it. But she did admire it, sitting with her knees pulled to her chest and soft music filling the burdened silence May second always brought
She picked up the photo again—grazing her fingers on the memories they would never get back or get a chance to remake, torturing herself with every memory she could think of
A few tears cascaded against her cheeks and she hated that she loved him so, that she hated him without knowing the truth. How could she feel any way without knowing wether he was alive or dead, wether he left or was abducted.
Where was he?—She would give her entire family fortune and soul to know
He always promised return when he left home, wether it was back to Hogwarts or a night over at a friends. Of course she would wait for him, he always came home. And although he would never tell her when—it could be today or tomorrow, a week or a month or even a year from now—she was still angry with him, because though he never told her when, he never left for too long. It had been three years, of course she was angry, he hadn't come back in a year, nor two and she wondered desperately if he would now, in three.
And she—hated to say it, to even think and admit such a foul thing—was losing hope, little by little and feared for the day where she would lose it all and care not for him or his return
He wasn't coming, he was not, he would not, her mind screamed at her heart to listen to its pleas, to give up and move on and consider him gone for good
But still—she knew when she entered the great hall and took her seat—her leg would shake in anticipation and she would crane her neck in hopes that an unfamiliar owl would make its way to her. Allowing her the clarification she needed—presenting her with a parchment written in his perfectly neat handwriting—telling her he was okay.
And again she would be left disappointed and Ron's face would turn to one of pity, Cedric would try taking her mind off the severe absence in her life and Hermione would trip over her words, trying to find something of comfort to say. And Harry would embrace her, not fully aware of what's happening
She brought the picture to her chest—
Where was he, for Merlin's sake, someone tell her, tell her before she fall weak and die of a heart so broken it looks nothing like the organ
Where had Helios Clearwater gone and why was the world not falling apart so vividly like she was at his absence
"Happy Birthday Elio"
Only the wind spoke back too her—in a whistle she could not understand, she had long stopped speaking the language of the world, of the earth and its beings—and he she thought, he could have stopped walking the same world and earth, stopped walking amongst its beings and she would never know