* Hello guys! I'm not sure I like this chapter, but right now I don't really like anything. A) the 16th was track and field. B) during track and field, my friend told me that a rumor that Ron and Hermione were having marital issues and were getting a divorce in "the Cursed Child." It's probably not true, but it still ruined my day. And every other day until I find out. My heart isn't OK right now... Well enough with my problems, read on!
It had been about a week since the Dementors appeared during the Quidditch match, but still the whole school was still feeling its effects.
"It was awful," a girl Clara passed in the hallway whispered.
"Absolutely dreadful."
"It made me think of my cat that died when I was seven."
And on the list went. Clara doubted they experienced anything like Clara though. She was truly traumatised by these creatures, and she was glad that they weren't allowed to roam freely in the school. Still, Clara had nightmares about what she saw on the train, and some new snippets and scenes.
Clara shivered at the thought. Currently, she was getting ready for sleep, which she both loved and dreaded. Sleep was wonderful, but with it came horrible dreams. They probably wouldn't have been horrible, if Clara actually knew anything about them. It was like intruding on something secretive, and dangerous. Even lethal.
"Ready for bed?" Ginny asked. She was already in her nightgown, and her hair was neatly combed.
Clara nodded. "Yeah, just about." She tucked herself into bed, and blew out her candle once Ginny was OK with it.
Clara shut her eyes firmly. She focused on her breathing, and she felt her chest rise and fall. Before she knew it, she was gone.
Clara felt her eyes flutter open. She was in that room again, and she was sitting on a stair, observing that woman, and a man with a funny bowtie.
"What's wrong? Did the TARDIS say something to you?" The funny man asked the woman. He hit the circular panel in the middle of the room. "Are you being mean?"
The woman shuddered a bit. "No, it's not that. Have we just watched the entire life cycle of Earth? Birth to death?"
It was Clara's turn to shudder. How could you watch the Earth being born and die? It wasn't possible. But also, it was a very cruel thing to watch.
"Yes," the man answered.
"And you're okay with that?" The woman asked, with a slight quiver in her voice.
"Yes."
The woman threw her hands in the air. "How can you be?"
The man gave her a quizzical look. "The TARDIS. She's...time. We...wibbly vortex and so on."
Clara got up from the stair she was sitting on. She walked up to the pair and stared. Of course, this being not real, they didn't notice her.
The woman shook her head. "That's not what I mean."
"Okay...some help? Context? Cheat sheet? Something?" The man asked.
"I mean, one minute you're in 1974, looking for ghosts, but all you have to do is open your eyes and talk to whoever's standing there. To you, I haven't been born yet, and to you I've been dead a hundred billion years." The woman looked at the ruined Earth of the distant future displayed on a screen-type thing. "Is my body out there somewhere? In the ground?"
Clara bit her lip. This woman was right, and Clara agreed with every word she said. It was slightly freaky, but then again, so was watching the Earth die.
The man straightened his posture. "...Yes, I suppose is it."
"But here we are, talking. So I am a ghost. To you, I'm a ghost. We're all ghosts to you. We must be nothing," The woman ranted. She had the slightest hint of tears in her eyes.
"No...no. you're not that."
"Then what are we? What can we possibly be?"
The man gazed into her eyes for a bit. "You are...the only mystery worth solving."
Clara felt her eyes open to a bright light. She got up to find Ginny not in her bed anymore, and her bed still messy. Ginny wasn't one for neatness.
Clara however, couldn't stand it, so she carefully made her and her friend's beds. She changed into a comfortable pair of black tights, a red skirt, and a warm, black sweater. She smiled at her outfit, as it seemed distantly familiar.
She headed down the staircase to find the common room almost empty. That was to be expected, as it was the first day of the winter holidays. John, however, was nowhere in sight. But, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were sitting beside the fireplace, talking in hushed tones.
Clara walked over to where they were. She smiled as brightly as possible.
"Hello!"
Clara could immediately tell that her friends were not in a happy mood. Harry simply nodded in her direction, Ron grunted, and Hermione said a small, "hi."
"OK, what's up with everyone today," Clara asked slowly.
Hermione bit her lip. "Should we tell her?" she asked Ron and Harry quietly.
Harry winced, but nodded slowly. "I guess we should."
"Tell me… What?" Clara said.
Harry drew in a deep breath. "Sirius Black is my godfather."
Clara bit her tongue. It came as a surprise, but she somehow also knew that it was true. She gestured for Harry to continue.
Harry shifted awkwardly. "He um, he betrayed my parents. He worked for Lord Voldemort and he was their Keeper and-" his voice broke.
Clara knelt by his side, and delicately patted his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. Harry sniffled, and Clara grimaced.
"That's not even the worst part," Harry said. He stared at Hermione and Ron for a bit. "Do you know what happens when the Dementors come close to me?" Clara caught her breath, and Ron and Hermione both shook their heads. "I can hear my mum screaming and pleading with Lord Voldemort. And if your mum is screaming like that, just about to be killed, you wouldn't forget it in a hurry. And if you found out someone was supposed to be a friend of hers, and ended up betraying her-"
"There's nothing you can do!" Hermione shrieked. Clara stumbled back a bit, and she could hear the words the woman had said in her dream last night.
"But here we are, talking. So I am a ghost. To you, I'm a ghost. We're all ghosts to you. We must be nothing."
Harry gaped a bit, then quickly shook his head when his eyes caught onto Clara. "Clara! I'm sorry I didn't mean to-"
Clara flinched. "I know Harry. But, you're not the only one who feels that way."
Harry looked surprised. "What do you mean?"
Clara took a deep breath. "I mean, the Dementors affect me like that too. Though, they're more like dreams. I can hear her," Clara closed her eyes.
"Clara, I didn't mean to remind you of your mum," Harry apologized.
Clara shook her head. "Not my mum. Just this woman, who I don't even know. It's really scary, and I see her everywhere. She's so familiar, but I don't let her get to me. And I think that's what's most important," Clara said. Though, she felt as if she were comforting herself more than Harry.
"Well, that's where we're different!" Harry argued, and clara was slightly taken aback. "You don't know this person, but I do! Hell, even Malfoy knew! He said that after what Black did I would want revenge!"
Clara stood up. "You know, Malfoy honestly used to be one of the worst people I knew, until right now." An image of the man in a bowtie entered her head for a second.
Ron's head jerked up. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Clara couldn't hold it in. "I mean, at least he was bloody willing to listen. Harry is just too stubborn for his own good!"
"What do you mean, 'willing to listen?' "
"Yeah, what'd you mean by that?" Ron echoed.
Clara cursed herself silently. "We spoke a bit, that's all."
"You conversed with that… thing?" Ron spat.
"It's not like I wanted to talk to him!" Clara retorted.
Hermione looked carefully at Clara. "Did he force you to talk? Honestly, you should've just ignore him."
Clara took a big step back. "Maybe I should've ignored him, but I did what I did because I would've gone mad without telling someone!"
"Why couldn't you just tell us?" Harry asked, in a slightly pained voice.
Clara shook her head. "Because I needed someone at that moment. And, none of you were there. And now, he knows something that I will probably never tell anyone else."
"Clara," a voice from behind her said. She slowly turned around to face John. "Tell us, now."