clementine harkin
"Are you sure you want to work today, my chérie?" My father questioned from behind the counter, probably wondering if my life were nonexistent which it inherently was. It was a ghost, just like Ottery , this hole in the wall town that my father purchased a small café that he claimed 'Held a certain charm.' Though I only smiled back at him while he read the Daily Prophet, "you've been working everyday since we've been here – go explore the town" I wanted to laugh, though knew it would only offend him – he fell in love with how the summer breeze blew differently every day through the hills, how the people were always respectfully kind and constant, and how he could stand in the July sun – almost for the first time in awhile. So I tied the apron around my waist and forced a soft smile that almost fooled me, "I would very much like to purchase myself a broom for the start of the year" which was half true. He only nodded as he muttered something about having only sons as I sauntered off.
Watching an elderly pair of lanky men wander in, they opted to sit on the patio, and I grasped the notebook and pen into my hands and attended to them. The café was slender, almost over crowded with no sense of privacy, and had two floors with Moroccan carpeted floors that I actually admired. I had no idea what charm it held, though it matched Darius Harkin, my father through and through.
"G'morning. Would you two like any breakfast?" I asked, readying to jot down their orders, "hm, the french toast seems delightful sounding, doesn't it Feorge?" The more hairier wizard inquired, tapping his beard lightly while the other only nodded heavily in agreement. I quirked my mouth into a smirk, "I'm taking you two enjoy my French toast? You're making yourself quite the regulars" I jotted down their requests as they only huffed in laughs, reminding me of Santa Clause.
"You have a talent in the kitchen, my darling" and if I blinked too quick, I'm pretty sure the quieter of the two winked at me through his grey eyelashes. I am so disgusted I suppress the instinct to gag out my eggs from this morning and flee into the backs of the kitchens, preparing the old bat his breakfast.
My mother worked the back, and always looked lovely despite the flour on her face constantly hiding under her nose and I felt calm with her humming as she relentlessly baked treats for the front which were basically free considering she always gave a tart to every child that walked into the establishment for the passed week.
The radio played some Sphinx Ocean & The Mammal, and that's when my mom decided to sway to the sound of the old witches crooning about the sky and some cats and god knows what else in their aged gypsy like voices that made you wonder what LSD felt like in the 60's.
I was careful in cooking, it was the only time I could transfer my care and thought into something – I tried other uses, I was horrible at painting and although my dad still drank out of my mug I created in pottery class, I knew for a fact it only held a sip of whatever drink before you had to refill the shallow hole. So when my mom wrapped my arms around me, I felt slightly offended that she wanted to dance with me while I was almost finished the last slice of toast. Though only moved like a wave with her in the midst of the white impeccable kitchen, trying to not admit to myself that it was slightly enjoyable dancing with my mom as we lip synced to Taken By Saturn by the witches, and by the end of the song, I realized my toast was burnt.
"Serve that to the frog" my mother winked.
Preparing the food and carefully hiding the burnt side of the toast, I garnished it with fruits from the garden in back and served it to the duo.
"Now now Gred, quit hitting on the poor young girl, you're creepy as it is" the old man gruffed as the other – Gred proceeded to unnecessarily touch my hand while I sat the food on their table.
"Er, enjoy your food" I immediately rushed to wash my hand afterwards.
The days passed with a full bowl of cookies at the counter for 1 sickle being empty with absolutely no profit, and an ever increasing crowd of girls almost doubling in their amount every time I exit from behind the kitchen. Sterling and Aiden garnered attention from the local girls, though what I found to be almost over whelming was the friends of the local witches pouring in – though didn't question it and continued my work. Gred and Feorge limping in with their canes every other day, always ordering the French toast that I purposely burnt to almost ward the creepy old man, Gred, away. It didn't work – he loved it, unfortunately.
The routine fell on me horribly, the only enjoyment I had was playing in the hills with my younger twin siblings Casper and Cedar in the evenings. Either tag or hiding things on Kilaun, their Husky and watching her as she sniffed out the item with the precision of a police dog. Sometimes we were detectives, sometimes we were trying to find a lost child, sometimes I wanted to bury myself and not be found.
Owling my friends in the States was heart breaking at times, Sage was in New York working some internship at her mother's company, Coral was working her dads diner and surfing in Miami, while Dawn was on a road trip – coping with her mother's recent passing trying to find a home again.
One and a half weeks into summer break, I found myself almost withering away with boredom – it started off with not being creeped out by Gred, then ended with finally feeling whole again when I laid in bed with Kilaun reading some random book I found in my father's study.
The worst days were my days off, laying in bed. We lived atop the café, and with a single bed, my room was already over crowded – my clothes poured across the floor, all white dresses, all gladiator sandals.
The restlessness ached in my legs, I felt the yearning to move, the craving to run away from the cage that I felt I was in. So I decided to just do that.
Gliding along the hills, I figured out why my father went for walks every evening – the scenery stretched for days. I'm pretty sure if Kiluan ran three days away, I still would be able to spot her.
The air filling my lungs almost felt orgasmic. Pumping my legs along some trail that only went up this mountain-like hill, the grass looked like a golden ocean at this point, and I relished in the scenery. Taking the hugest gasp of air I probably ever did in my life, I accidentally inhaled some scent that resembled a pile of dung. Cringing at the smell, my eyes scanned the environment and immediately found the source.
About two yards away was an animal laying pathetically in a nestle of grass, my initial response was to run – seeing as though the animal was twice my size – though curiosity caught me in its grasp, and I slowly crept forward. My heart slightly broke once I spotted its chest taking steady, slow breaths, almost on the verge of death.
I felt my legs move before I formed a coherent thought, though something took hold of my hand and pulled me back from the dying creature. I attempted feebly to pry the limb away from mine, "it's dying" I repetitively mumbled, transfixed on its chest as it rose and fell, each time growing increasingly slower.
"It should be, that's a Hellhound, it's been tearing apart the Fawcett's garden" he spoke, and turning my head to finally register who the owner of such a soft waver of a voice was, I processed the situation and felt a mild heat of embarrassment. Though he smiled softly as his hand gently let go of mine.
"Oh" was all I managed, and turned back to the Hellhound, it's chest halting into a unnerving stillness – the vision of the huge beast was still disturbing as it lay lifeless in the midst of beauty, "they poisoned their rhubarbs, it was fond of them. Mixed it with calming potion if I remember correctly, if that makes you feel better" I only shook my head, didn't feel any better.
The silence we shared, I realized, was somewhat paying respects, and I appreciated the random stranger keeping the silence as a moment passed.
"My names Clementine" I offered, out reaching a hand, he slid his gentle palm into mine and I felt my chest slightly jump at the touch, though paid no mind as we gave each other a smile. He was handsome.
"Cedric Diggory, you run this path often?" I shook my head, "first time" I was pathetic with small talk – it was either we talked about the universe or we didn't talk at all, this boy opted for the latter, so I gave him a gentle smile, "thanks for.. Warning me I suppose."
He told me that the hellhound's name was Tommy, which he thought would make me feel better – again it didn't, I awkwardly smiled and decided to cut this forced conversation short "Maybe I'll see you around?" To which his smile widened, and I felt my face go uncomfortably hot, "yes, see you around, Clem."
I didn't realize until I began making my way down the hill that I was breathing significantly shallower, taking a big gasp of air – I rubbed the tips of my digits in memory of how his fingers fit perfectly between the spaces of mine.