Harry pulled his little sister Clara by the arm so that they could catch up to Professor Dumbledore who was walking at a quick pace down the cobbled street. Clara still wasn't feeling her best after her first time apparating and her mouth still tasted of vomit. Of course Harry had been the one to beat the odds and not vomit—he always managed to do that. Why was it that she had to always be the normal one? The Potter twins were nearly out of breath when they finally caught up to the old man and his brisk pace.
"Sir, where are we?" Harry questioned.
"Welcome to the charming village of Budleigh Babberton," Dumbledore said with a smile.
"Charming? Not the adjective I'd use to describe it," Clara muttered.
"It's much more charming in the daylight," Dumbledore attempted to assure her; but she clearly wasn't buying it.
"I'm entitled to my own opinion and I still think the place is rather creepy," Clara mumbled to herself; but she had a suspicion that Dumbledore still heard what she said.
"Sir, what are we doing here?" Harry interrupted, which Clara was thankful for because it took the tension off her.
"Ah, well I've brought you both with me to help me persuade an old colleague of mine to come out of retirement and return to Hogwarts," Dumbledore answered.
"And you need the both of us?" Harry asked.
"That's what he said, Harry," Clara retorted.
"I do," Dumbledore said, clearly ignoring Clara's interjection. "I think I can find a use for the both of you."
As Dumbledore continued at his brisk pace, Harry reached for his sister's arm once more and slowed their pace down. They were only a few steps behind Dumbledore as Harry looked to his sister in confusion.
"What do you think he means that he can find a use for us?" Harry whispered.
"I'm not Dumbledore," Clara retorted.
"Clearly," Harry said. "He isn't so fickle."
"I'm not being fickle," Clara hissed.
"Then what would you call it?" Harry questioned.
"I—" Clara began.
"Pip pip," Dumbledore called. "Pick up the pace."
Clara groaned before she started jogging to catch up to the old man. For being so bloody old, that man could walk fast. When Harry and Clara had almost caught up to Dumbledore, the old man took a sharp left turn. Harry easily made the turn; but Clara hadn't been expecting it and she ran straight into a Muggle trash receptacle that crashed to the ground with a resounding thud. Clara winced at the noise before she saw Harry and Dumbledore walking further from her. She then looked back down to the trash receptacle to see its contents spilling out into the street. The right thing to do would be to pick the mess up; but she didn't have time. So, she apologized to the inanimate object before taking off in a sprint toward her travel companions. When Clara finally caught up to Dumbledore and Harry, she was somewhat peeved that they didn't stop and wait for her; but she didn't voice her frustrations. Instead, she walked quietly behind them as they chatted amiably….about her.
She listened to their conversation for the next several blocks as Harry voiced his concerns about Clara's dream. Dumbledore simply listened to Harry and nodded his head occasionally. He clearly didn't seem anywhere as near as concerned as Harry was; so that meant it was probably nothing. Or at least that's what she hoped; but then Harry turned around and insisted that she tell Dumbledore about her dream.
"I already told you that I'm not telling him right now," Clara groaned.
"And I told you that if you didn't, I would," Harry retorted. "In her dream, she saw a Dark Mark."
"Harry!" Clara hissed.
"A Dark Mark, you say?" Dumbledore pondered. "Sometimes our subconscious has a way of telling us what we are most worried about."
"There, dream interpreted: I'm scared of You—Know—Vol-Voldemort. It's not an uncommon fear especially these days," Clara said. While she was somewhat terrified of the Dark Lord, she did know that her dream wasn't about that.
"Add that to your never-ending list. Clowns, spiders…" Harry listed.
"Ron's scared of spiders too," Clara retorted.
"Water…" Harry continued.
"I'm not scared of water. I'm scared of the vastness of big bodies of water where I could easily drown," Clara argued.
"That would still be a fear of…water," Harry said.
"Well, I have every bloody right to be after Piers Polkiss pushed me in the bloody river and I nearly drowned," Clara hissed. "I have all perfectly rational fears."
"Rational fears," Harry scoffed.
"Ah, here we are," Dumbledore interrupted softly.
Dumbledore stopped outside an iron gate with a stone wall that surrounded the property. Clara wasn't prepared to stop, so she went crashing right into her brother with a loud "oomph." Dumbledore pushed on the iron gate which swung open easily…too easily. With an unreadable expression on his face, Dumbledore put his wand at the ready and told the Potter twins to do the same. Clara and Harry looked to each other quickly before they drew their wands from the jeans pockets. Dumbledore began to walk slowly, yet purposefully toward the house with Harry and Clara following close behind. They found the front door to already be opened a crack, so the Hogwarts headmaster pushed the door open farther to allow their small group entrance into the house.
Once inside the front hall of the house, they found the place to be completely disheveled and in utter disarray. To say the place was trashed may have been an understatement. Dumbledore motioned for them to stay close behind him as he led them from the front hall and into the sitting room. There were glass shards covering every surface as snow would cover the ground and the beautiful baby grand piano lay in shards and splinters in the corner with its ivory keys strewn on the floor and music in shreds. Clara couldn't understand why one of Professor Dumbledore's colleagues would live in such a sad state. The only reason she could think of was if…a slight shiver went up her spine…the Death Eaters had paid this place a visit. What if they were still inside, waiting for them? Blood dripped from the ceiling which made Clara feel rather uneasy. But Dumbledore took a drop of blood that had landed on his shoulder and wiped it with his finger before putting it into his mouth. Clara slightly cringed at Dumbledore's taste-testing and the uneasiness in her stomach continued to grow.
Clara tightly gripped her hand without her wand onto her brother's arm. Harry looked at her with a puzzled expression. Clearly, he wasn't getting the same impression about the place that she was. As she attempted to steady her breathing as to not give their position away, Dumbledore motioned for them to stay put. The old man then took several steps forward with the light from this wand leading the way. He stopped for a moment and titled his head to the right. Clara did the same thing to try and see what Dumbledore was seeing…and for a moment, she could have sworn she was the slippers in front of the armchair move; but that was a ridiculous thought. But maybe not, because Dumbledore jabbed the tip of his wand into the armchair. Clara's eyes widened as the armchair squealed before beginning to take shape as the chair shot upright into a standing position.
"Merlin's beard!" the shifting armchair shouted. "No need to disfigure me Albus."
The Potter twins backed away instinctively from the shouting armchair because it wasn't an everyday occurrence while Dumbledore remained quite calm and stood his ground. Clara's hand gripped her brother's arm tighter as her wand arm was still aimed right at the armchair. She didn't care if Dumbledore seemed to trust this armchair, she wasn't going to let her guard down until she was given a reason to do so. Dumbledore chuckled as the armchair slowly began to take shape into that of an older man.
"I must say that you make a very convincing armchair, Horace," Professor Dumbledore said lightly.
Dumbledore looked at the still shifting man/armchair with a smile on his face. The older man, who didn't look anywhere near as old as Dumbledore, patted his stomach before looking up at the group in front of him. The old man was rather overstuffed, quite like the armchair, and he was dressed in silk pyjamas which had been perfect for the upholstery of the armchair. Clara relaxed a little, but still kept her wand pointed toward the man as Harry lowered his wand and looked at the man in awe. After a few seconds, she finally lowered her wand noting that if Dumbledore new this man by name and had lowered his own wand, that he trusted this man called Horace. She tried her best to read between the unspoken lines; but her intellect proved to be of no assistance in this situation.
"What gave me away?" the overstuffed man asked.
"Dragon's blood," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Not to mention that if the Death Eaters had come knocking, there would have been a Dark Mark in the sky."
Clara groaned and smacked herself in the forehead for missing that small detail. She should have known better; but if there was another one of her faults, she was quick to let her fears sometimes win out over an intellectual process. The man named Horace explained that he was on the run from the Death Eaters and that his home belonged to some Muggles who were on holiday. Dumbledore suggested that they put the disheveled house back into its proper state of affairs and with a slight flick of the Hogwarts headmaster's wand, the room began to restore itself. The shards of glass from the picture frames floated back to their frames, the pieces of the chandelier zoomed into their rightful places, the piano was stored to proper order…everything was fixed and almost looked brand shiny new again. The Potter twins couldn't help but watch the restoration in amazement. Having lived much of their lives with Muggles, there were still things in the Wizarding world that surprised them. Dumbledore chuckled at the twins before he turned to introduce them to the man in his pyjamas.
"This, is an old friend and colleague of mine, Horace Slughorn," Dumbledore stated. "Horace, I don't think introductions are needed for these two, right?"
"No need! No need! They are the Potter twins of course!" Horace Slughorn said with great enthusiasm.
"This is…" Dumbledore began with his hand motioning toward Harry.
"Harry," Slughorn said jovially. "It's not difficult to distinguish between the two of them. Harry…and Clara."
Clara rolled her eyes at the normal mention of her name being last. Harry and Clara. Harry and Clara. Why couldn't it be Clara and Harry? There always seemed to be a certain order when mentioning twins that was rarely broken: Harry and Clara, Fred and George, Padma and Pavarti. She knew that most people didn't mean anything by it; but always being mentioned second made her feel like she was only second best, which wasn't a hard feeling to be familiar with almost always living in her brother's shadow. Clara's interest was piqued in the old mens' conversation about Delorese Umbridge.
Thinking about that nasty woman made her shiver. The evil toad had made her drink a cup full of tea laced with Veritiserum, trying to get her to disclose information on her brother. The only positive about that situation was that Umbridge asked her questions she couldn't honestly answer because at the time, she didn't have anything to do with Dumbledore's Army because she had been too wrapped-up in her own misery. It was after Christmas before she had actually finally joined the D.A. only to get Harry and Ron from pestering her; but she actually turned out to like the group…well, that was until they were caught by Umbridge. That was the worst of her punishments from Umbridge and she still had the fading scars on her hand to prove it. Clara absently rubbed the scars on the back of her hand. Her scars weren't anywhere near as deep as her brother's were…but that was because Draco Malfoy had saved her sorry arse on several occasions. Probably one of the few decent things that prat had actually done. Dumbledore suddenly moved to leave the room because he needed to use the loo.
"Don't think I don't know why you're here, Albus!" Slughorn shouted after him. "The answer's still no. Absolutely and unequivocally, no."
Clara turned to watch Dumbledore leave the room before she looked back to Slughorn who looked back at her and chuckled slightly. Clara then turned to her brother who turned to her. There seemed to be this awkwardness between the three of them, when Clara saw something that caught her eye. She found a shelf of Wizarding photographs, so she walked over to have a look at them. While she examined the photographs of some very famous witches and wizards, she intently listened as Slughorn attempted to converse with Harry.
"You look very much like your father, you know," Slughorn began awkwardly. "Except for your eyes. You've got…"
"My mother's eyes, yeah I know," Harry said with a bit of annoyance in his tone. It wasn't the first time he been told this.
"And you Miss Clara, I see that you've inherited your mother's good looks: her hair, her eyes," Slughorn directed toward Clara. "She was a very beautiful witch, I'm sure you very well know; and it looks like the sprout doesn't grow far from the patch."
"Apple falls far from the tree," Clara whispered correcting the old man's botched attempt at a Muggle phrase.
"You do look so much like lovely Lily," Slughorn said once more with a sigh. "Now, I know you're not supposed to have favorites of course; but she was one of mine. Your mother. Such a charming young girl and one of the brightest I ever taught…especially given that she was Muggleborn."
"One of my best friends is Muggleborn and she's the best in our year," Harry argued.
"Funny how that sometimes happens, isn't it?" Slughorn continued.
"Not really," Harry muttered, clearly peeved by this man who was coming off to be quite bigoted.
"You mustn't think I'm prejudiced!" Slughorn pleaded. "After I all, I just got telling you that your mother was one of my all-time favorite students! See here," he continued as he pointed to the shelf that Clara stood beside. "She's on the shelf. Anyone who wants to be anybody wants to be on this shelf."
Slughorn gently pushed Clara aside to make room for Harry. Harry stood on the other side of the man and at that moment, Clara found the picture of her mother even before Slughorn pointed her out to Harry. Her mother appeared to be about the same age as her in the picture. The likeness to her mother was uncanny. But it panged at her heart because it hurt that she could look so much like someone and yet know so very little about her. She choked back the tears that threatened to spill. She was at the age in her life where despite the teenage hormones, she could really use a mother. Someone to go to in confidence and for advice; but she would never have that. She inhaled deeply to settle her nerves as Slughorn began to point out the other famous faces he appeared to be quite proud of. The man spoke quite animatedly about his former pupils and at that moment, Clara wondered if that was why Dumbledore brought them. Without really doing much, Harry and Clara were names known around the Wizarding community. Harry for being "The Boy Who Lived" and Clara for being "The Boy Who Lived's sister" and the man appeared to have a certain weakness for those with a name in the Wizarding world. But Clara's thought process was interrupted by the old man.
"Horace, do you mind if I take this?" Dumbledore asked holding up a magazine which made Slughorn look to him in confusion. "I do love knitting patterns, you see."
"Ah yes, of course. But you're not leaving are you?" Slughorn asked with more confusion evident in his tone of voice.
"I think I know a lost cause when I see one," Dumbledore sighed. "Regrettable. I would have considered it a personal triumph had you considered to return to Hogwarts. Oh, well."
Clara looked to Dumbledore. Maybe she had been wrong about him using them to manipulate Slughorn. He just wanted the man to return to Hogwarts to teach; but the man didn't look like much a Defence teacher. But it probably didn't matter much anyway, he would only be there for a year anyways with the jinx on the position. Dumbledore motioned for Harry and Clara to walk toward him, which both twins obeyed. The Hogwarts headmaster then bid his friend goodbye, but Slughorn appeared to be looking rather unsettled about something or another. Only, they didn't sit around to find out what was bothering him. No, the Potter twins followed Dumbledore out of the house and down the cobbled walkway. No one said anything as they walked. They were almost to the end of the lane when Slughorn burst out of the house running and yelling after them.
"All right! All right! I'll do it!" Slughorn shouted as Clara, Harry, and Dumbledore turned to look at him panting for breath on the front stoop. "But I want a raise, you hear! These are mad times we live in! Mad! And I want Professor Merrythought's old office, not that water closet I was in last time."
"Very well, Horace. We shall see you on the first of September," Dumbledore said with a smile.
The newly reinstated Professor Slughorn leaned against the railing, still panting for breath as he waved at them. He watched Harry, Clara, and Dumbledore walk away from the house he was staying at and go down the street. Clara yawned as the group approached a small church before Dumbledore commanded that the twins take his arms again. Clara quickly rubbed at her ears in preparation for the pain before she reluctantly took hold of Dumbledore's arm to side-along apparate. Clara took a breath and closed her eyes tightly as she could feel that familiar sense of being pulled through a rubber tube again. As far as apparating went, she wasn't really a fan, except it allowed one to get from place to place faster.
When Clara finally opened her eyes, she found that they were standing in a field on the outskirts of the Burrow. While she felt incredibly dizzy; at least this time she didn't vomit. They were probably just on the other side of the Burrow's safety enchantments and they were probably specially in place for her and Harry's arrival. Just to make sure, Clara picked up the nearest stone and threw it toward the Burrow; and not too much to her surprise, the stone bounced back toward her. Dumbledore chuckled before he waved his wand to allow Harry and Clara entrance to the Burrow's property. The small group walked quietly toward the dilapidated looking house; but Clara knew that appearances could be deceiving. While on the outside, the place looked like it could use some care; the inside felt like a home. As they walked past the Weasleys' tool shed, Dumbledore stopped.
"If you don't mind, Harry; I'd like a few words with you before we part…" Dumbledore began.
"And I can see where I'm not needed," Clara said. "I'll just go inside and let Mrs. Weasley know that we're here."
Clara skirted past her brother and Dumbledore before she slowly walked down the beaten path to the backdoor of the Burrow. She saw that there was a light on in the kitchen as she approached the house. Clara stepped up the stairs to the Burrow before she firmly rapped the door. She stood waiting for someone to answer with her arms folded across her chest when she saw the kitchen window's curtain move and Mrs. Weasley peering from behind. Clara could hear Mrs. Weasley stepping across the hardwood floor to the door before she began to talk to her through the back door, which was without a doubt, a safety precaution that had been listed in the brochure the Ministry had distributed.
"Who's there? Declare yourself!" Mrs. Weasley said nervously from behind the door.
"It's me, Mrs. Weasley, Clara Lily Potter," Clara answered.
"Are you alone?" Mrs. Weasley questioned.
"Dumbledore is talking with Harry by the tool shed. Can you please let me in?" Clara asked.
Mrs. Weasley somewhat hesitantly opened the door; but her worried expression immediately turned into a smile when she saw Clara standing there. The older woman enveloped Clara in a hug, which Clara willingly returned. With all the emotions that went with not having her mother, it was nice to know that Mrs. Weasley was like her unofficial adopted mother. Mrs. Weasley had welcomed her and Harry with open arms into their home as if they were honorary members of the family. Clara blushed as Mrs. Weasley released her from the hug. She normally didn't receive much affection or loving treatment and had been especially void of it for her stay at the Dursleys. Clara could only hope that someday she would have such a loving and large family of her own one day; one where she would be surrounded by a Quidditch team's worth of children and a loving husband.
"It's so good to see you, Clara," Mrs. Weasley said with a genuine smile. "I wasn't quite sure if you were really you or not because Dumbledore said not to expect you three before morning. Now, let's get you something to eat. I swear you look skinnier every time I see you and you could use some meat on your bones."
The older woman then ushered Clara inside and Mittens, Clara's cat darted right for her. Clara bent down with a smile and picked up her black cat with bright green eyes before she pressed a kiss against his tiny nose.
"I hope you don't mind that I let him out of his cage right before you got here," Mrs. Weasley said.
Clara chuckled as she walked toward Mrs. Weasley holding Mittens tightly in her arms. Mrs. Weasley ladled her a bowl of soup which she set down on the long Weasley table. After setting Mittens back down on the ground, Clara took a seat in front of the bowl as her stomach rumbled. She was probably a little hungrier than she expected to be, especially after apparating. Clara immediately began to shovel the soup into her mouth as Mrs. Weasley placed several slices of bread in front of her. There was then a rap at the back door and Mrs Weasley walked over to the window to check who was there. Clara, knew it was Dumbledore and Harry; but one could never be too careful.
"Who's there? Declare yourself," Mrs. Weasley said.
Clara wasn't close enough to the door to hear the response; but she did notice that Mrs. Weasley opened the door. Harry and Dumbledore walked through the open door and Mrs. Weasley scolded Dumbledore for allowing Clara to come in by herself without protection. Clara smiled slightly knowing how lucky she was to have a person like Mrs. Weasley on her side. Dumbledore gently apologized to Mrs. Weasley before he turned to the twins to bid his goodbye. Clara didn't miss the peculiar glance between Dumbledore and Harry; but she would talk to her brother about that later privately. Harry took a seat beside Clara as he reached down to pet Mittens who was pawing at his feet. Mrs. Weasley set another bowl of soup in front of Harry before returning to her dishes.
"What was that about?" Clara asked.
"What was what about?" Harry asked.
"You know what I'm talking about. What did Dumbledore want?" Clara pressed.
"Nothing," Harry said with a shrug as he took a bite of his soup.
"Nothing, my arse," Clara said.
"Fine, it's nothing for you to get your wand in a knot over," Harry responded. "It's just something between me and Dumbledore."
"Aren't you going to tell me?" Clara asked.
Harry didn't respond. Instead, he just took another bite of his soup. Clara narrowed her eyes at her brother before she returned to her soup. Had Dumbledore told him not to tell her? Normally, they shared almost everything with each other…they were twins after all. It wasn't like Harry to keep a secret from her; but she would just have to press him for details later. She tried to stay positive about this…maybe he just didn't want Mrs. Weasley to overhear them.
"Is Mr. Weasley at work?" Harry asked.
"Yes, he is, Harry dear," Mrs. Weasley sighed. "As a matter of fact, he's running a bit late. He said he'd be back around midnight."
Both the twins looked to Mrs. Weasley who looked rather pensive compared to her normal cheerful disposition. Suddenly, Mittens bolted from the kitchen and upstairs. Clara took a few more bites when she heard a shout of "bloody hell" before she heard a hissing sound. She smirked knowing full-well where Mittens was. There was the sound of thudding footsteps as Ron ran from his room to the stairwell.
"Mum!" Ron Weasley called. "Are Harry and Clara here?"
"Who?" Ginny called back.
"Mind your own business, Ginny," Ron shouted down the stairwell.
"What is this about Harry and Clara?" Hermione joined in.
"Mum!" Ron shouted.
"Ronald, don't shout at this hour!" Mrs. Weasley shouted from the kitchen.
"I'm just trying to figure out whose bloody cat viciously attacked me," Ron yelled.
"You probably deserved it," Ginny added.
"Shut up, Ginny," Ron hissed.
"What the hell did you do to my cat, Ron?" Clara shouted.
"Clara!" Ron, Ginny, and Hermione shouted simultaneously.
There was soon a thundering of footsteps from upstairs headed straight toward them. Clara and Harry stood up from the table to meet their friends. Ginny was the first one down the stairs and she immediately ran to give Harry a hug. Clara stood there awkwardly until Ginny moved to hug her. She knew that Ginny had fancied her brother for the longest time which made having a friendship with the girl awkward at times. Hermione was soon down the stairs with a smile on her face and a toothbrush in hand the girl hugged Harry and then moved toward Clara; but stopped short. The two girls were not friends. Clara didn't care about Hermione being a muggleborn, but rather just found her plain annoying. She hadn't liked Hermione from her first train ride. Clara felt that Hermione had always thought that she was better than her. The boys used to side with her, until that troll on Halloween. The boys' opinions of Hermione Granger changed that night; but Clara and Hermione still couldn't put their differences aside. Some said it was because they were so similar, others said it was because of some rivalry over Harry. Whatever the reason was, the girls had never become friends. They attempted to tolerate each other for Harry's sake; but normally it didn't last long. Clara was thankful when Ron finally made his way down the stairs. He hugged Harry and then moved on to Clara.
"Your bloody cat tried to kill me," Ron said after he released Clara from her hug.
"Good kitty," Clara smirked.
A knock on the door interrupted their greetings. Mrs. Weasley hurried to the door and immediately opened the door. Mr. Weasley stopped short and gently chided Mrs. Weasley for allowing him entrance without making him answer a security question first. Ron rolled his eyes at the scene near the backdoor.
"What's the point?" Ron groaned. "If a Death Eater is trying to impersonate me, they probably already know enough about me to do so."
"Your father has an image to upkeep at the Ministry," Hermione said matter-of-factly.
"Well, the Death Eaters get the same bloody pamphlets from the Ministry," Ron argued.
"One can never be too informed," Hermione said.
"I beg to differ on that one, Hermione. If I never have to hear about who my sister is snogging, it will be all too soon," Harry argued.
"It's not my fault that someone," Clara said looking directly at Ron. "Can't keep his big fat mouth shut."
"It was a common courtesy. If Harry saw Ginny snogging some Slytherin, I'd expect him to do the same for me," Ron argued.
"Who I snog is none of your business, Ron," Ginny retorted.
"Exactly my point!" Clara remarked.
"But he was a Slytherin!" Ron argued.
"I happen to be in Slytherin in case you've forgotten," Clara said rolling her eyes.
"Doesn't mean you should be snogging them," Harry argued.
"There was a reason for the madness," Clara said folding her arms across her chest. "Not that you listened the first time I told you; but the only reason I was snogging Theo was to get Malfoy to leave me alone."
"That doesn't even make any sense," Hermione muttered.
"I never asked you if it did," Clara snipped.
"Harry! Clara! I didn't expect to see you two until the morning!" Mr. Weasley said interrupting their conversation.
Mr. Weasley walked over to the group of teenagers to shake hands with Harry. He gave Clara a side hug as Mrs. Weasley walked over to the group with her hands on her hips. She insisted that the teenagers go upstairs and straight to bed. Ron voiced a complaint; but Mrs. Weasley pushed him in the direction of the stairs. Rather reluctantly, the teenagers headed upstairs and headed to their respective rooms as Mrs. Weasley took Harry and Clara to the twins' old bedroom. Fred and George now lived in Diagon Alley above their joke shop. Clara had yet to see the joke shop; but she hoped that she would be able to see it soon.
Mrs. Weasley opened the door to the bedroom and motioned for Harry and Clara to go inside. Clara walked in first, followed by Harry. Mr. Weasley came up the stairs with their trunks. He set them in the corner as Ron came in carrying Mittens. He set her "bloody" cat on one of the beds before Mrs. Weasley pushed him out of the room. Mr. Weasley then moved to stand by his wife as they said goodnight to the Potter twins.
"If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask," Mrs. Weasley said.
Harry and Clara nodded their heads as the matriarch Weasleys hugged and kissed them goodnight. As Mrs. Weasley hugged Clara, she whispered about how much Clara looked like her mother. Clara held onto Mrs. Weasley's hug a little longer than normal. While she could never take the place of her own mother; Mrs. Weasley was definitely a close second. When Mrs. Weasley released Clara from her hug, she patted the younger girl on the cheek before she left the room with her husband.
"Which bed do you want?" Harry asked his sister.
"Whichever one wasn't Fred's," Clara chuckled.
"Do you know something that I don't?" Harry questioned with a puzzled expression on his face.
"No, I'm sure Mrs. Weasley changed the sheets," Clara chuckled. "But one can never been too cautious."
Harry and Clara looked to each other. Both of them knew that Fred has slept in the bed on the right. Suddenly, both of the Potter twins ran for the bed that had belonged to George. Clara launched herself from the floor and onto the bed, beating Harry. Harry groaned and started to tickle his sister to get her to flail off the bed; but she held tightly onto the headboard.
"I got here first," Clara said between breaths.
Harry shook his head and gave up as he quickly changed into his pyjamas and crawled into Fred's old bed before Clara attempted to crawl out of bed to change into her own pyjamas. Harry threatened her that if he found anything in Fred's bed that she was going to be in trouble. Clara smiled as she finally curled up into the bed she had fought Harry for. She looked to Harry before she blew out the candle. They Potter twins lay in the darkness for a few minutes before Clara interrupted it.
"Harry, are you going to tell me about what Dumbledore said?" Clara asked.
"Not this time," Harry sighed.
"Why can't you tell me?" Clara questioned.
"I just can't this time," Harry said. "Please don't ask again. If Dumbledore wanted you to know, he would have told you."
"So, you're going to do to me what he did to you last year?" Clara asked in slight disbelief.
"Clara, it's not like that, I promise," Harry said.
Clara rolled onto her side, so that her back was to her brother. Why wouldn't Dumbledore include her? Did he know that she had a hard time blindly trusting him? But why keep her on the outs of something with her brother? Was he trying to tear them apart? Clara was beyond frustrated but it must not have affected Harry too terribly because his snores began to fill the room; while she remained awake mulling over her frustrations.
When she finally did get to sleep; she didn't have any dreams like the one last night. No, instead of some sort of nightmare, she was in a pleasant dreamland. In her dream she and Harry were happy with their parents and plenty of other siblings. It was the life she had always wanted, a life that was only available to her in her dreams. Clara awoke the next morning to find Harry chatting with Ron and Hermione. She groaned and rolled over to see them looking at her.
"Look who finally decided to get up," Harry teased.
"Shut it," Clara groaned.
"We were thinking about a round of Quidditch after breakfast," Ron said.
"As long as she isn't on my team," Clara moaned.
Clara looked to Hermione who was attempting to not let Clara get under her skin; but it was pretty obvious that she already had. Clara slowly sat up in bed and leaned her head back against the headboard as Mrs. Weasley called them down for breakfast. Clara shooed everyone from the room so that she could get dressed before going downstairs for breakfast. She dressed in one of her Slytherin t-shirts and pulled her hair back into a French braid before she headed downstairs. When she got downstairs, she found Hermione sitting in a chair with Mrs. Weasley looking over her. As Clara got a better look she could see that Hermione had a black eye, which caused her to start to chuckle.
"What the hell happened to you?" Clara chuckled and the only response Hermione gave was a groan. "I mean it looks like…"
"I very well know what it looks like," Hermione snapped before Mrs. Weasley attempted to shush her to fix the bruise with a puzzled expression on her face.
"This has always worked before," Mrs. Weasley said. "I just don't understand it."
"That would be the genius of Fred and George. A funny joke to make sure the bruise couldn't come off," Ginny said.
"But it has to come off!" Hermione squeaked. "I can't go on looking like this forever."
"I think it's a vast improvement," Clara smirked which caused Hermione to groan. But Granger knew better than to try and argue with Clara because it would eventually be a losing battle.
"Are you sure no owls have arrived this morning?" Hermione asked.
"I think I'd have noticed if they'd have come. But there's still plenty of time for them to come," Mrs. Weasley chided.
Clara hoped that answer would satisfy Hermione; but then the girl started to complain about how she thought she had messed up her Ancient Runes exam. Clara rolled her eyes and groaned. Hermione had always been such a know-it-all. The girl always complained that she failed everything and yet somehow she always ended up at the top of the class. That left Clara to battle Draco Malfoy for second place. Clara hoped that she has surpassed Draco on their OWL exams so that she would be back in second place again. He was downright dreadful last year because he had the bragging right of being in second place over her third place. Clara could take no more of Hermione's complaining.
"Granger, will you shut up?" Clara hissed. "You're top of our bloody class. Clearly, you didn't fail."
"Yeah," Ron added. "You're not the only one whose nervous here. Besides, after you've got your eleven "Outstanding" OWLs...
"Don't! Don't! Just stop it!" Hermione interrupted. "I know I've failed everything. You wouldn't understand."
"You only took one more test than I did," Clara said. "So other than the fact that you took the Ancient Runes and Muggle Studies and I took Divination, I think I understand your pain."
"Divination hardly counts. It's an utter load of rubbish," Hermione scoffed.
"You just say that because Trelawney hated you," Clara said even though she inwardly agreed with Hermione's stance on Divination.
"And how is making up new ways to die educational?" Hermione asked.
"So…" Harry interrupted, trying to change the subject. "What happens if you fail a class?" Only no one was able to answer Harry's question because Hermione began screeching at the top of her lungs.
"Merlin Granger, you could give the Bandon Banshee a run for her money," Clara said putting her hands over her ears.
Clara looked to Hermione who walked closer to the window, pointing frantically at it. Coming straight toward the house were four black specks. Clara, Ron, and Harry nervously joined Hermione at the window, although they were acting much calmer.
"They're definitely owls," Ron gulped.
"And there are definitely four of them," Harry said with a strained voice.
"Definitely one for each of us," Clara whispered.
"Oh no...Oh no…Oh no…" Hermione frantically whispered.
The teenagers seemed to be frozen in place, so Mrs. Weasley moved to open the window for them. The four owls perched on the windowsill, each owl with a letter addressed to one of the teenagers. Clara reached for the mousy brown owl that carried a letter addressed to Clara Lily Potter. Hermione was still frantic about the situation; but his time Clara let it slide because he was nervous as hell too. Only, she didn't show her emotions on her sleeve. No, like most people in her House; she was rather good at attempting to compartmentalize her emotions. After taking a deep breath, Clara ripped open the envelope and opened the parchment to read her results.
Ordinary Wizarding Level Results
Pass Grades Fail Grades
Outstanding (O) Poor (P)
Exceeds Expectations (E) Dreadful (D)
Acceptable (A) Troll (T)
Clara Lily Potter has achieved:
Arithmancy O
Astronomy O
Care of Magical Creatures E
Charms O
Defense Against the Dark Arts O
Divination A
Herbology O
History of Magic E
Potions O
Transfiguration O
Clara breathed a sigh of relief. Her results were pretty good; but not perfect by any means. She looked up from her results for only a second when Harry snatched her results out of her hand. She attempted to fight him to get them back; but he held them over his head which was too high for her to reach. She insisted that her brother give them back when he gasped.
"Clara, only an "A" in Divination?" Harry teased.
"Shut up, Harry," Clara groaned. "Besides, I know I did better than you did. You probably got a "T""
"You know that you can't continue in it now," Hermione retorted.
"I wasn't planning on keeping the class anyway," Clara sneered.
"Shut it both of you! We're NEWT students now and this calls for a celebration!" Ron grinned. "Mum, bring out more sausages!"
"Always thinking about your stomach," Hermione muttered.
Clara walked over to her brother who was examining his results once more. This time she snatched his results. His marks weren't as high as hers; but he marks were still acceptable. The group then sat down to eat breakfast as Mrs. Weasley beamed about all their results. Even though only one of them with OWL results belonged to her; she still was a proud mother hen. Clara was pretty proud of her results; but she only hoped that they were enough to beat Malfoy.