Hello all! This is just something I wrote for fun, hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.
She remembers the days ohsofarback when she was four and he was five and they would play together in his backyard and revel in the scent of the new-cut grass and the sound of the river rushing over stones. She was his grasshopper girl and he was her blue-eyes boy. Those were the days before it all went wrong, before she lost her Lorcan.
And then his father was gone, leaving in a flurry of gathered papers, Lysander skipping at his side almost giddy, and Lorcan clinging to his mama's leg, tears in over-bright eyes that never fell, slipping away from her. She was nearly five and him just turned six and his mama took him and locked up their house by the river and left for far-away lands to work, Lorcan trotting after her with a watery smile and leaving her behind and clutching a photograph of the two of them.
And she's growing up all alone (but not really with three older siblings and a half-dozen cousins) wondering if he's alright and if he'll ever come back. She often slips over to his house, plants and tends flowers in the front beds like his mama used to and sits on the front porch and thinks of childhood days and carefree dreams.
And then she's eleven and going to Hogwarts just like her brother and her sisters and her parents. And she's on the train, looking for a seat, pressed between squealing Lily Luna and sobbing Tansy Finnegan in the corridor, not quite knowing how she got there or how to escape. And she sees Lysander, a Ravenclaw tie around his neck and a cruel gleam in his eyes as he shoves through them, sending all three girls sprawling to the floor.
And suddenly, as the ceiling swims painfully before her eyes, he is there; Lorcan, her blue-eyes boy, taller, with a spray of freckles across his nose and a concerned look in his stormblue eyes as he helps her up and asks softly if she's alright. She cannot speak, nods mutely and stares as he leads her to an empty compartment and sits her beside him at the window.
He asks quiet questions; about her family and home and if she's the one who planted the flowers that he and his mama (though now he calls her Mum) found when they got to the house. And she nods, too shocked by his reappearance for words and ohsoglad that he was back. And as she leans against his shoulder slightly, eyes half-closed and breathing in his new scent of peppermintandchocolateandrai n, she realizes that this is the happiest she's ever been, or will ever be.
Fin