PART TWO
Harry watched through the glass window of the living room at Number 4, as the truck doors slammed shut on the furniture that belonged to Claire and her parents. Claire was standing in the front yard, facing the truck, the sun beating down through her hair, making it shine like liquid gold. She was more still in that moment than Harry had ever seen her be in the last few years, and that worried the messy-haired wizard to no end. Well, an end would be the pair of them running away from everything and hiding in Malaysia for the rest of their lives or something, but that clearly was not the best course of action for an already-hunted wizard and his exceptionally flighty counterpart.
Harry remembered back to the previous summer, when Claire had become completely and utterly obsessed with an Irish punk band, at only fourteen, and had run off to Dublin, somehow, after both Harry and her parents refused to allow her to go, or at least accompany her to the neighbouring country, just to see a show at a dingy, dirty pub. Claire herself knew the risks, it was simply in her nature to do as she wished, whenever she wanted to, no matter how terrified she had made her parents, and Harry for that matter. Claire was "grounded" for a week after that incident, but it didn't really stick, which is probably why her parents hadn't made it the entire summer to start with. Claire had been furious with Harry for not accompanying her, but she was even more furious after Harry explained the consequences she had left behind with the people that cared about her. They didn't talk for four days – well, Claire didn't talk to Harry for four days, Harry yelled at her over the back fence to get over it countless times across the few days. The Dursley's denied him dinner and breakfast the next day after that incident, for it attracted a "considerable amount of attention," according to his Uncle.
There were many instances after that of Claire running off into the open without Harry by her side, especially while he was off at school, but this summer had been different. Claire and Harry had clashed many times over the last month, especially when Harry, much to his own chagrin at letting the girl wonder off on her own, was unable to accompany the girl and her escapades. However, the pair's friendship always returned to Privet Drive.
Claire was leaving, and it hurt her more than she ever thought it would to stand their, staring at the metal vehicle moving her entire life away from the one place where she finally felt like she belonged.
Claire Buckley belonged beside Harry Potter.
She knew they were from two different worlds, two different families and of two completely different and almost opposing personalities. Don't ask how she knew, but she knew Harry wasn't the same as her, personalities beside. He was different to his own family, and he was different to any other person Claire Buckley had ever met in her life. He was humble, caring and instinctive, with a splash of adventure that Claire often took advantage of to indulge her own impulsive needs. They never talked about school, or their hobbies – family, yes, but they were often so absorbed in the moment together that they rarely needed anything or anyone else. But there was always something else, something that Claire knew she'd never be able to have with Harry – she could see it in his eyes. Or, she could see it missing in his eyes.
Claire Buckley tried very hard to convince herself that this move was the best ting for her heart.
It crushed Harry more than he thought it would to see the girl's entire life being loaded on a truck, and it hurt even more when the girl turned towards Number 4 from her vantage point in her own front yard, catching Harry's green gaze almost instantly. For only the second time in the life of their friendship, Harry witnessed the tell-tale glistening of tears in Claire's eyes as she smiled, gave a wave and hauled herself into the truck.
By the time Harry bolted through the living room, down the hallway and into the front yard, the truck – Claire – was too far gone.