"Darling, are you ready yet? It's time to go," Lewis called up the stairs, to silence. He sighed. Life was so much easier when she was younger.

"I'm ready, dad," Clara said cheerfully, walking into the hallway from the kitchen. Lewis nearly jumped out the door. The 16 year old was the spitting image of her mother at the same age. She wore her dark hair loose, letting it hang in waves to her waist. A small, jeweled headband held the strands out of her face. Her smile was bright and welcoming, and Lewis was terrified of the day when he would hear of her first boyfriend. Would she tell him? Did she have one waiting for her? Did she have more than one? He knew it was coming.

"You love doing that, don't you?"

"I wouldn't if you didn't make it so enjoyable," she grinned before heading out the door. These were her favorite days. To make up for his lack of magical knowledge, Lewis took her to Diagon Alley every other weekend. Sometimes she would do some shopping, but the pair usually just socialized with the shopkeepers and Clara's fellow students. Florean Fortescue, owner an ice cream parlor, had played a huge part in educating Clara and her father. They owed him, and yet he was the one giving them free ice creams.

Lewis had been surprised by his daughter's powers. She had been a late bloomer, according to Florean; where most magical children start showing signs around 2 or 3, it had taken Clara until she was nearly 10. Lewis could still remember the first time Clara showed magical powers. A year after Eliza had left, Lewis had left his young daughter in the kitchen. She was only coloring at the table, so he felt fine stepping outside to check on his garden. As he bent down to examine some nearly ripe tomatoes, the deafening boom from the kitchen caused him to fall face first in the dirt.

"Clara!" he yelled, before jumping up and running into the house. He slid down the hall and jumped into the kitchen.

"What… what the hell," he couldn't believe his eyes. Even when he had been married to Eliza, she had rarely used magic in front of him. But there, in her chair at the dining table, was Clara, surrounded by colors. Not crayons, or not in their original form, at least. With a perfectly clean Clara at the center, every imaginable color had literally exploded seemingly with the young girl at the epicenter.

"What… what happened?" Lewis asked her.

"This kitchen is so dreary, daddy. The browns, and the whites… I just started wishing it was more colorful, more like my crayons. It was loud, but isn't it pretty?"

Lewis just laughed; he didn't really know what else to do. Here he was, looking at his daughter, their daughter, the perfect image of the love of his life. They had been sure she was non-Magical… it had played a part in Eliza leaving. But now, here was proof. Clara, their daughter, was a witch. Just like her mother.

Clara tinkered with the radio, quickly finding her favorite alternative station.

"Ah, you kids and your music," Lewis shook his head.

"Yeah, like you didn't introduce me to it all."

Lewis laughed. Clara had shown an early interest in music. For her 10th birthday, she had gotten her very own record player, and it still held a place of honor in her bedroom. To her surprise, the Wizarding world had good music; she was wearing the Weird Sisters t-shirt she had customized today. To Clara, style was very important. Not necessarily following trends and being up to date with the latest fashions, just knowing what you liked and maintaining a distinct personal style. She was fairly notorious around Hogwarts for dress code violations, but nothing ever severe enough to warrant any real punishment beyond a slap on the hand. As a Slytherin, she was fortunate to be on the good side of the school's most hated teacher, Professor Snape. The man was head of Slytherin, and therefore did his best to avoid taking points from his own house. Clara would say that she didn't expect special treatment, but she'd be lying. Her best friend, Pansy Parkinson, had a similar flair for style. She was more of a typical Slytherin, but Clara saw past the hard exterior. She liked to think she brought out the girl's softer side.

Lewis carefully parked along the curb in front of The Leaky Cauldron.

"Is there a spell for parallel parking?" he asked his daughter after nearly taking out a fire hydrant.

"Hmm… I'm not sure if I would tell you if there were, it's too much fun watching you do it the Muggle way," Clara grinned. Lewis tutted and turn the car off.

"That's as good as it's going to get."

The warm, inviting atmosphere of The Leaky Cauldron was always one of the best parts about these Diagon Alley trips.

"Clara! Lewis!" the older man greeted them from the bar, "Can I get you two anything today?"

"We're off to get our fill of ice cream, sorry Tom! Maybe tonight," Lewis waved as the pair passed through the pub. Clara moved in front of her father and took her wand out of her bag. She tapped three bricks on the wall and they stood back as the doorway to Diagon Alley opened. Lewis was still amazed by this simple but incredible bit of magic, after all these years. Clara smiled at him as they entered the magical shopping center.

"I should be getting my owl next week," Clara noted, more to herself than her father, who nodded.

"Might as well go ahead and pick up a couple of the books, those are usually the same."

They headed to Flourish & Blotts first. The store was fairly empty, and Clara enjoyed it. She knew that next time, it would be packed with Hogwarts students buying their supplies for the school year. Lewis browsed the Herbology section while Clara went off on her own. She quickly found what she was looking for, The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 6), and set off to find the other book on her list. As she turned, she nearly knocked a boy over.

"Sorry!" she apologized, reaching out to catch his book, "Ah, same as mine!"

"Yeah. I thought it might be nice to get a bit of shopping out of the way."

She nodded as she looked up.

"Oh, hi, Harry," she smiled. Harry Potter. She was surprised to see a lack of fangirls on his heels.

"How's your summer going?"

"It's nice. Relaxed. I just got back from France. My uncle had been dying to take me," Harry explained, "How's yours?"

"Not bad. Relaxed, yeah. I've really just been lazy," Clara laughed. The taller boy smiled at her.

"I have to go, but I'll see you at school," Harry waved as he walked off to pay for his book.

"Bye."

Clara understood why Harry had his fans. He was definitely one of the cutest boys in school, probably one of the nicest, too. They had been partners in Potions for years now. Due to house politics, they'd never really talked outside of class, but they did get along. She walked over to where he father was flipping through a small handbook. The poor man tried so hard. Clara appreciated it. She knew it couldn't be easy to try to raise a witch with no knowledge of her world.

"I think I'm going to get this for myself," Lewis announced, holding up the book on magical healing plants.

After paying for their books, Lewis and Clara made their way down to Florean Fortiscue's Ice Cream Parlor. Clara had barely passed through the door when the man rushed over to wrap her in a hug.

"There's my Clara," he patted her back before releasing her.

"And Lewis!" Florean grasped the man's hand in a strong handshake.

"What'll it be today? We just started selling peanut butter and peaches! It's been quite popular so far."

"That sounds interesting, I'll take a scoop of that," Clara said, peering through the glass at the various flavors.

"And for you?" he asked Lewis.

"I'll take…" he paused, his eyes darting between four flavors, "Krum Kake."

"Perfect!" Florean waved his wand and Lewis watched excitedly as the ice cream seemingly scooped itself, landing in two small cups, perfectly formed. The cups floated out of the case and landed in their outstretched hands.

"Ah, Lewis, I'll never get tired of your excitement!" Florean chuckled, making Lewis slightly more aware of the fact that he was vibrating.

Clara laughed and took a bite of her ice cream, "This is really good."

Florean grinned and bowed dramatically.

"Shall we sit?" Lewis asked, gesturing to the tables.

"Of course," Florean walked to the nearest table and pulled out two chairs before sitting himself.

"So, how's the boring world?"

"Boring. Economic troubles, riots over sporting events, the like. I'm considering just up and moving to this side. Seems much happier."

Florean considered this, before saying, "We do have our fair share of issues. Of course it's nothing like it was when Voldemort was around, thankfully, but we have had a few Quidditch riots."

"I would trade a football riot for a Quidditch riot… bloody idiots. Nearly set the damn arena on fire!" Lewis shook his head, "Anyway, we didn't come here to complain. How's business?"

"Enjoying the calm before the storm. School shopping will start next week, and we always struggle to keep up with the demand, even with magic. But I've hired some extra help and placed some extra charms around to help keep up. It'll be fine. The excitement is always contagious. Clara, you're quiet," Florean set his eyes on the girl.

"Oh, just thinking and listening."

"Ah, you need to stop this thinking business. I remember my days at Hogwarts, you'll be doing far too much thinking. Better give it a rest," the older man grinned.

"Yeah, it's usually not an issue for me. Thinking is kind of an afterthought most of the time."

Lewis laughed, "She gets that from me."

The pair wrapped up their shopping quickly after the rain started. Clara quickly threw their purchases in the trunk before hopping into the passenger seat.

"I'm going to miss you when you go back to school," Lewis sighed.

"And I'll miss you. You should meet up with Florean some. Maybe invite him over. It might do him good to experience a bit of the Muggle life," Clara smiled.

"That's a good idea… it does get lonely."

Clara almost felt guilty, getting to run away to Hogwarts while her father had to stay and work his dull job and come home to an empty house. He tried so hard to be cheerful for his daughter, but she knew it was hard. Everywhere he looked, he was reminded of her mother. They had one picture of her in the house, hanging over the dresser in his bedroom. It showed the two of them with 4 year old Clara, and they were all laughing. Such a happy, lovely family. Clara didn't know the whole story about her mother leaving, and she didn't really care to find out. She loved her father, and resented her mother for wanting to hurt him. That was all she needed to know.

Once they got home, Lewis went to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

"I'm going to tidy up some," Clara told him before heading upstairs. She left her purchases in her room before heading into her father's room.

"How do you survive when I'm away?" she whispered to herself as she gathered the dirty clothes from the floor. She threw them in the hamper one by one. A pair of grey trousers peaked out from under the bed, and she yanked on them, also causing a dusty shoebox to slide out. Clara threw the pants into the hamper before bending over to examine the box. She debated for a moment on whether or not to look, but they didn't keep many secrets from each other, so she decided to take a peak. After blowing the dust from the lid, she lifted it off and looked inside. Letters and some newspaper clippings... she was only going to have a quick look, but this was too intriguing. The box in her hands, she listened for noise from the kitchen to confirm that her dad was busy with dinner before delicately lifting out a couple of envelopes. She was about to open one before a note fell out from between the papers. With another glance at the door, she picked up the note and read

Lewis

I truly am sorry, to both you and my dear Clara. I really do love you both, and you need to know and believe that. We were so young when we met. I had expectations, both my own and my family's. We are Purebloods. Do you think I went to that Muggle village for the summer expecting to fall in love? If I had, I would never have gone. No, that's not true. I wouldn't change the way the past worked - precious Clara would never be alive if I hadn't gone to stay with my Grandparents. But that's the past. I need to go out and explore, I need to reach my full potential as a Witch. I need to live up to my family's name. With a Muggle family, I'm afraid I cannot fully do that. I had hopes for young Clara, but she seems to be powerless. I really am sorry. Please don't think that I love you two any less. I just need to do this for me.

Please don't try to find me. You won't be able to.

Your Eliza

Clara couldn't hold back the tears. It was her fault. She had to be a late bloomer… that was why her mother had left. As their only child, it was Clara's responsibility to make her mother proud, and she had failed. It was all her fault. The fact that her father had to spend so much time alone while his only daughter was away, having a good time. She didn't know why she had thought her mother left, but she'd never expected it to have been her fault. The tears were coming in waves, choking her. She grasped the note and made her way downstairs, before collapsing to the floor in the kitchen doorway.

"Clara! Darling, what is it?" her father was panicked. She held the note out.

"Oh... oh God, Clara, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry," he was on the floor next to her, his arms wrapped around her while she sobbed.