❛ I'll talk my dirty talk ❜
The day everything fell apart. Tuesday morning wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Riley and Hannah left for breakfast early leaving Claire to get ready all alone. It wasn't too much of a challenge. She just had to figure out what she was missing today all by herself.
She pushed the thought aside and trusted herself enough to get dressed properly and with no second thoughts, she walked out of her dormitory. Upon arrival in the Great Hall, everything seemed reasonably normal as well. The Marauders were seated where they usually kept, the staff table talked softly amongst themselves, and Riley and Hannah bickered. Nothing out of the ordinary at all.
When classes came, Claire was daydreaming and zoning out causing the day to go by fairly slow. All she could really remember was the function of some love potion she forgot the name of, so it wouldn't be of much use.
Flitwick did ask if she was alright at one point but she thought nothing of it. Until lunch came.
More often than not, Claire arrived at lunch rather late due to moseying around in the corridors in an attempt to wake up a bit more. She was never too much of a morning person, she must admit.
Again, I must've said this far too many times but, today was no different. She arrived after a majority of the students and was confused when she saw McGonagall talking to Riley and Hannah. She watched Riley nod over at Claire making the professor turn to look her.
She had a strange pitiful look in her eyes that Claire had never seen before. "Is everything alright, Minnie?" Claire asked.
"The Headmaster would like to see you," she answered, purposefully dodging the question. Claire frowned not remembering doing anything wrong.
As McGonagall led her out the Great Hall, she couldn't help but glance down at her uniform and ask, "Is this because I forgot my tie? I promise I'll wear it tomorrow."
"No, no. You're not in trouble," the woman confirmed.
It was the longest walk to Dumbledore's office ever. When she arrived, she felt as though she ran a marathon. The thought of something awful happening was hanging over her head making her anxious. McGonagall gave her a final look of sadness then muttered a password that Claire didn't quite catch.
"Go in and knock," she ordered. Claire stepped forward but halted as the woman spoke up again. "I'm here, Claire. Never forget that."
"I know, thank you, Minnie," Claire replied, with a smile that quickly faded away when she turned around and met the door. After two light knocks, she heard a calm 'come in' and proceeded to do just that.
Dumbledore's office was much less grand than she had imagined it. Only a large circular room with mysterious instruments placed all around. "Ah, Miss Labelle, come in," he chimed. Something was off when she looked at him. It was the absence of the twinkle in his eyes.
"Um, you wanted to see me, Sir?"
"Yes, yes, have a seat." He conjured up a chair with a flick of his wand and motioned for Claire to settle down. She did. "I'm very sorry to say that, due to your Grandmother's illness that I'm sure you're aware of," he hesitated for a moment and Claire's breath hitched. "She- she passed away just last night."
It was a strange feeling. Knowing someone was gone but still feeling their presence. It just felt like they were on a very long vacation. One that would last forever. Claire didn't burst into tears the moment she heard the news. She just stared at the man in confusion.
"Are you sure?" she asked. He was quite surprised by the question but nodded none the less. Claire took a deep breath. "What about my Grandfather? Is he okay?"
"He's fine. Well, he's coping. He wanted to make sure you knew as soon as possible."
She couldn't imagine what Gramps was feeling at the moment. He lost the love of his life. That was never something anyone would ever want to endure.
"The funeral will be on Thursday. You do not have to continue with classes until then. You must take your time, Miss Labelle," he suggested. "There is always a place and a person to turn to here at Hogwarts."
She nodded and stood up. "Thank you, Professor."
She left his office that afternoon with sweat forming on her lip and her legs shaking. It was like she was in a dumb muggle sitcom and the main protagonist had just suffered a plot twist. Technically, that was really happening. She just didn't want to believe it.
She didn't go back to class as requested. She stayed in the common room for the remaining few hours of the day and paid no attention to the sun beginning to set. She continued to stare at the photograph she received from her grandfather only a few days prior. It was from Christmas and she was holding her brand new teapot in her hands with the brightest, most beautiful smile.
The only warmth she could feel was from the fire but even with that, she felt so cold. "Claire?" someone asked. She didn't have to turn around to know who it was. She'd know that voice from a mile away.
"Yes?" She asked blandly. They sat down next to her on the floor.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"You can tell me."
"Well there's nothing to tell."
"Claire-"
She snapped, "I really don't need this right now, James. Go flirt with Evans or something," she then stood up and continued, "It's as clear as day this all worked."
"But I don't care about Evans right now," he fought, standing up with her.
"That'll be the day-"
"Why are you so upset?"
"I'm not upset, I'm fine," Claire chimed. "Actually, I'm doing great and I really don't think this is working."
"What's not work-"
"Us," she said, her voice rising.
"But we're doing fine, Claire. Just tell me what's wrong. We don't have to fight."
"I know we don't and we also don't have to keep pretending anymore," she stated. He looked taken aback.
"But-"
"But it worked. You have Lily and-"
"And you don't have Remus."
"I never wanted him anyway," she said, her voice cracking slightly. He shook his head and tried saying something but Claire was quick to cut him off, "I think we're done."
After those two words, Claire turned and walked away. She stopped halfway up the stairs to her dormitory and sighed. The damage is done, Idiot. He's gone. Her conscience taunted. That was enough for her to continue up the stairs and all the way to her trunk.
She tucked the picture of her dear Gran away in a book and quickly got dressed in her pajamas. Slipping on her woolen socks, she drew the curtains around her bed and buried herself in her comforter. She still hadn't cried and honestly, she didn't know if she ever would.
For her, it still felt as though Gran was sitting at home, knitting and baking away.
She knew she wasn't so she simply drifted off to sleep and dreamt about absolutely nothing.