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myblueeyedbuggers · 3 years

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My Boys

Chapter 10

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14

Pairings: Reader x Steve Rogers (best friend) Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count:1843

Warnings: Slow Start, Language.

Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change.

Annnddd I’m back! so I know it’s been a while since the last update and I just wanna thank you all for having patience with me while I finished up with college, just a warning this chapter may feel a little awkward to read due to me just getting back into my writing mind so apologises in advance for this one. Anyways I’ll quit blabbering, Enjoy everyone! :)

This was my day of reckoning, my punishment for all the bad deeds I’d done over the past couple of years…I was finally being sent to school. Okay maybe that was a tad dramatic, but can you blame me? I mean who wants to be trapped in a building against their will for 7 hours straight learning about dead guys?! No sane person would willingly agree to that crap!

I’ve tried just about everything to avoid my approaching doom, hell I even went as far as hiding in the basement surrounded by cobwebs to try and get out of this, but as per usual neither Steve or Bucky took mercy on me, hence why in currently trapped between the two. “You are aware I’m perfectly capable of walkin’ by myself aren’t ya? The looping of the arms is not needed boys” I swear down these two are being more annoying than usual, and I didn’t think that was humanly possible cause these two are basically the living embodiment of annoyance. Steve turned and raised his eyebrows at me, shaking his head as he let out a small laugh, “Yeah there’s absolutely no way I’m fallin’ for that again, last time that happened it look me and Buck an hour to get you outta that tree”. Ah crap there goes that plan.

I’m pretty sure the noise I made wasn’t even human, it was a mix between a seal and a possessed monkey “I’m not gonna get outta this am I?” “Nope” and que another frustrated groan. “Is this payback for the time I placed that bucket of flour above your bedroom door and watched the both of you turn into ghosts? If it is then I want you to know I regret nothin’” both of them stopped and glared at me, for some reason they didn’t find that as funny as I did, and I have no idea why. Okay whatever you do y/n don’t laugh, even if Steve’s face looks like a slapped arse don’t laugh! A snicker slipped past my lips and a few seconds later I was full on laughin’. Goddamn it.

Both of em just let out a bunch of sighs and started draggin’ my butt along the street, wait there’s somethin’ I haven’t tried yet…in hindsight this is completely stupid but screw it. “OH MY GOD LOOK A SPACESHIP!” I’m pretty sure poor Bucky jumped outta his skin, Steve ended up trippin’ up and falling down, I’ll admit that I felt bad about but hey may plan worked! So why am I still standin’ there?… maybe we try this thing called running y/n! I quickly pulled my arm away from Bucky and used my new-found freedom to run in the opposite direction of them, I could hear the shouts of protest from the both of them, so I decided to kindly ignore them and absolutely leg it. “GODAMMN IT Y/N! THIS IS THE FIFTH TIME THIS MORNIN’!” when were the boys gonna catch on that I didn’t wanna go? Do I need to prepare a firework show and blast it in their faces or somethin’…probably.

I know I probably shouldn’t be smiling, but the feeling of the wind flowing through my hair as my feet hit the ground made me feel free, after so many years I could finally begin acting my age and enjoy my childhood. I finally felt content with my life, which is probably the opposite of what I should be feeling at this moment in time, considering I was currently making my grand escape. And to completely honest I’ve got no bloody clue as to where I am. I glanced behind me to see where the hell those idiots were, to my surprise Steve was directly behind me, Buck was somewhere in the back holdin’ his knee and I’m guessing the daft sod decked it. Why am I not surprised? Okay maybe I should of kept my mouth shut cause literally a second later my foot tripped over a rock and, you guessed correctly, I landed on my ass for the thousandth time!

“Sh*t! Cr*p! B*lls! That f**king hurt!” and that ladies and gentlemen is my fine command of the queens English, a groan of pain made me loose my train of thought as I turned my head to Steve, to put it simply he was laid flat on his back with his eye closed. Well there’s the rush of guilt I’ve been waiting for, “Sh*t Steve I’m sorry, you okay down there tough guy?” I quickly offered him my hand to help him up, I mean it’s the least I could do. Steve’s hand grabbed mine, a not so quiet grunt of pain made me feel even worse, quick question why am I such an assh*le at times? “Yeah, I’m fine y/n, don’t worry about it you know for a fact I’ve had worse” a quiet sigh left my lips as I brought him in for a hug, which was a tiny bit awkward due to the height difference. Once we pulled away from each other, I couldn’t supress the need to check him for anymore injuries, much to Steve’s embarrassment and Bucky’s amusement, “Jesus I’m gonna have to start wrapping ya up in blankets and pillows, Steve how the hell did you manage to get a bruise on your ear?!”

The sudden gasp behind me pretty much answered the question for me, it’s safe to say barney boy is in trouble…for the first in my life Bucky looks pretty f**king terrified of me, perfect. Slowly I started inching towards him, the glare I was sending him would probably make a demon cry for his mum…so yeah imma go kill the boy. I didn’t even have to say anything, he just started runnin’, “IT’S NOT MY FAULT HE STOLE MY FR**KING PUDDIN’ AND THE PUNK KNOWS I LOVE MY PUDDIN!’” YEP DEFINITELY KILLIN’ HIM “HE IS A SMALL AND GENTLE BOY HOW IN THE NAME OF HELL CAN YOU EVEN THINK OF LAYIN’ A HAND ON ‘IM?!” god this sounds like a bleeding soap opera.

At this point I wouldn’t be surprised of someone called the cops on us, all everyone woulda seen was a big lad runnin’ for his life as a small lass tried to murder him while a smaller lad ran after the pair yellin’ for em to quit it. Now that I think about, that’s actually hilarious. Wait, where was I? ah yes the murdering of one James Barnes…okay that is not a normal sentence I am aware. “HE.STOLE.MY.PUDDIN’! THAT A CRIME WORTHY OF DEATH!” oh for f**ksake “HOW THE HELL DO YA KNOW IT WAS HIM?! DID YOU NOT THINK IT COULDA BE BECCA?!” I think he made a sudden realisation, cause the dumbass stopped running and BOOM I was on the freakin’ floor. Again. We both groaned, mine was mostly in annoyance more than anything, but seriously the bloody floor is quickly becoming me best mate! “…. It just dawned on me that that could be a possibility…” if my neck twisted any quicker I’m 100% sure that I’d end up doin’ that weird owl thing “Oh now you realise?! Ya gonna say sorry to Steve or not?” a few seconds of silence gave me my answer. “Don’t give me that look y/n! I ain’t doing s**t till I’ve got some evidence so he’s still under my list of suspects!” oh my Jesus Christ this is gonna be the day I get arrested for murder isn’t it?

“Barnaby…you have exactly five seconds to run for your life so I highly recommend you get your affairs in order and kiss ya ass goodbye” oh hey look at that I didn’t yell at him! Well done me I’m so proud! “could you two quit trying to kill each other for 5 minutes?! We’re already late enough as is it and I ain’t explainin’ to the teacher why Buck’s outta it on the floor!” my f**kin god Steve just yelled! At me! why do I never have a camera when this s**t happens? “Jeez, alright I’ll murder him later, calm your damn t*ts Rogers” and cue the sound of barely contained frustration in 3,2,1….

“I’m beginning to get the feelin’ that you don’t like me y/n” oh really? I wonder what gave that away “wow you catch on quickly don’t ya Barnaby?” by the looks of things I’m really doing wonders for his ego, buck’s head looks like it’s gotten smaller so the risk of him turning into a hot air balloon’s gone down. The feeling of a pair of eyes glaring at the back of my head once again reminded me that the blonde boy was quickly getting tired of our crap, my worst fears were confirmed once I met Steve’s surprisingly intimidating glare…how he manages to be both adorable and beyond f**king terrifying is a mystery to me. “Okay I’m comin’ just stop staring at me like I just murdered your kitten!” and the little s**t has the nerve to smirk and look pleased with himself, ugh he’s been hanging ‘round me and Bucky too long that’s for sure.

“Ya know Buck and you are gonna be the death of me” right do I be offended or pleased with that statement? “actually, if anything it’s gonna be the pair of you that send me to an early grave cause god knows the both of ya don’t know how to stay outta trouble” two muffled sounds of protest came from my left and from behind me, “what’s that supposed to mean?!” once again the point has been missed “do you really wanna know the answer to that? I’ve got my report and presentation ready on how you two are a pair of numpties”.

Maybe that was a tad harsh…okay wait never mind it seems I’ve learned how to fly again with the assistance of one James Buchannan Barnes. “this is coming from the girl who can’t walk five feet without fallin’ over somethin’?” as much as I hate to admit it the walking embodiment of frustration and annoyance has a point “what you call fallin’ I call floor hugs, now how about you pUT ME DOWN FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!” wait when did Steve walk off? See this is what happens when an overgrown ape demands attention. I don’t even have to look at Buck to know he’s givin’ me that look that says, “what the hell?” and “I’m not surprised by this” at the same time, “Nah I don’t think that’s gonna happen doll” the temptation to kick ‘im where the sun doesn’t shine is too much to bare for me at this point. “And you wonder why I love Steve more that you” Buck’s face kinda looked like someone just shoved a whole lemon in his mouth, I’m almost certain that he woulda dropped me on my ass if it wasn’t for the fact that Steve came over and dragged us both through the gates of hell.

This is gonna be so much fun!……said no-one ever.

Okay…maybe it didn’t suck as much a thought it did, hopefully my skills as a writer will come back for the next couple of chapters XD Thanks for reading ! :)

Rose xxx

#winter soldier x reader #winter soldier #captain america x reader #captain america #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #mcu #fanfic #reader #reader insert #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

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lins-fandom-hub · 4 years

Text

09/01/1998 (1)

Part 1 || Part 2

Here’s part 1 of a 2-part fic that I wrote that commemorates Clara’s Hogwarts friends/peers lost to battle against the forces of evil.

The concept of time was humankind’s greatest enigma. It cared not about what happens in the life of any one person. Like the river in the wood, it flowed, knowing not of the stones overturned or the sediments caught in its current. Once a mark had been made, there was no erasing it; once a phenomenon had come to pass, there was no reverting it to what once was.

Time was supposed to help the dust settle over the ruins. Thoroughly damaged beyond repair, yet shrouded in the remnants of what once transpired, the image of what history left behind would only be made clearer after time had passed. Time was supposed to help the physical cuts heal. The open lacerations seeping blood through the flesh would have scabbed and closed with patches of new skin depending on how deep the wound was. Even as they happened, though, time would never let anyone forget the phenomenon that had ensued. Time didn’t care how anyone healed, grieved, smiled, or cried.

Time certainly didn’t care how anyone lived or died.

Clara closed her fingers over her wand and stood from her chair, empty eyes that once bore tears lingering on the sunny scenery outside her window. All those years ago, she had prayed for a sunny day to greet her on the day she departed home for Hogwarts, and every year, it had always been either cloudy or rainy--she even remembered the stormy day that commenced her third year all too well. A small sigh escaped her lips as she looked at the clock by her writing desk--it was 9:00 am. If she was still a student, she’d be travelling right now in one of the Ministry cars her father borrowed from the Ministry with him to King’s Cross Station, her mind abuzz solely with plans to find Jacob and bring him home. If she was still in China, she’d be drilled through military exercises set by the captain of the Chinese Wizarding Task Force without a single thought of her past. Those days were long gone, though--the past was now behind her. Today was a special day, but not for a good reason. Today, she and what remained of her circle of friends would throw a special celebration in memory of all the friends who had fallen, and all of those who sacrificed their lives to help Harry Potter defeat Voldemort at Hogwarts.

Merlin...the Battle of Hogwarts seemed so long ago. It had taken so long for the dust to settle over the relics, but she couldn’t move past the horror that she had witnessed. Her chest ached as visions began to swim in her mind--the corpses of her friends lying in the rubble, the crack of every spell relentlessly attacking those who still remained standing. She recalled the number of spells she had to deflect with her steel fans from the Task Force when her protective barriers shattered, the triangle of Death Eaters surrounding her at once threatening her to collapse. If she closed her eyes, she could see every misfired curse shattering the stone walls, tossing bodies back as if they were only rag dolls…

The soothing touch of her fiance’s fingers tracing over her arm eased her breathing, but it did nothing to stop the tears pricking at her eyes again.

“What are you thinking about, Clara?” Barnaby asked her quietly, gently wrapping his strong arms around her from behind and holding her close to him. She could only hum as she leaned back into his chest, exhaling quietly as the tears spilled over her cheeks.

“It’s the Battle, is it?”

Clara nodded. “Well...sort of.” She opened her eyes, turning to face her fiance. “There was something Dumbledore told me so long ago, back when we were still sixth years. He said that if there was one thing anyone could count on, it’s death. It comes for everyone in the end. But you know how quickly it took a lot of our friends--Rowan in our sixth year, Cedric the summer before I left for China…”

“I know,” Barnaby murmured, lifting a hand to wipe her tears away. “I know.”

“It’s hard,” Clara whispered. “It’s so hard…”

She buried her face into his shoulder, wrapping her arms tightly around Barnaby as she tried her hardest not to sob. The terror that first gripped at her when she fought apart from him snaked its way back into her chest, not unlike the cursed ice that spread through the school in her second year. Death took so many people she held dear to her over the years, it was a miracle that she still remained standing. Rowan...Ben...Tonks...Fred...Talbott...heck, she couldn’t even begin to believe that Merula was dead, too. Even Dobby and Cedric, whom she didn’t know very well, felt like kin--and yet they too were brutally murdered long before the ultimate siege.

“What do you think they’ll be doing?” Barnaby wondered, tilting his head slightly. “You know, in the world of the dead.”

Clara winced slightly at the question. “I don’t know,” she mumbled eventually. “Maybe look down upon us like angels would.”

“I know Rowan is. She’s your best friend, after all--what best friend wouldn’t want to shield you from harm?” Barnaby said, slowly rubbing a hand over Clara’s back to calm her down.

“To think that everyone went into this battle not trying to protect me for the vaults this time, but fight against the one all wizardkind feared,” Clara mused. “I shouldn’t feel guilty, but I do. I just hope that what we invited everyone to do today would be enough to finally find closure and…”

Barnaby nodded as she trailed off, tilting her head up with a hand to look her in the eyes. Her glasses were smudged from the tears now streaming over her face.

“I’m sure they will love it,” Barnaby reassured her softly. “Not just all the ones still alive, but those who passed on. I know I would.”

It’s taken Clara weeks to pull herself together after the battle, and even more after that to seek solace from those who still remain. Only a few days ago did she finally settle the date of their wedding, yet it didn’t feel right to celebrate a day of union without sharing it with all their friends, alive or dead.

Two days to go. After that, our lives might change for the better.

She had to hold it together. Not just for them, but for herself too. Closure would not be given to those still vulnerable to breaking.

“Yeah,” she finally murmured, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “I would, too.”

---

There was no bachelor and bachelorette party for this couple--heck, they couldn’t imagine the consequences for the other should a disaster occur while they were apart. Instead, a few weeks ago, Clara had sent her owl, Wagner, out into the world with letters for all their friends and loved ones. Today, everyone who was willing to come would Apparate to their house, and then gather in their vast open backyard in the evening where the ceremony would commence.

“And done,” Barnaby declared as he delicately placed the final cherry on the top of a massive white-iced three-layer cake. A slow grin spread across his face as he looked at his best baking masterpiece--no, it was not their wedding cake, but it looked good enough to be one.

That was when the doorbell rang, and he jumped, almost knocking the cake over.

“I got it!” Clara called, running down the stairs and securing her crimson crystal hair tie around the single braid over her left shoulder. “Just set the parlour up, Barnaby.”

“Will do.” Barnaby nodded and carried the massive cake to the parlour, humming a little tune to himself.

Clara opened the door to reveal Penny and Beatrice now standing at the threshold. Both of them were wearing black dresses that went down to their knees. The plaits that were normally in Penny’s hair were now combed out, her hair now split into two braids down her shoulders. Beatrice’s hair, for the first time since Clara could recall, was held back with a headband, revealing both of her blue eyes cast down with a sad glimmer.

“Clara!” Penny greeted her friend with a hug, which Clara wholeheartedly returned.

“Hey, Penn.”

Time had changed the little girls who became friends in their first year to young adults who had survived more than one war. As they broke the embrace and looked at each other, they both caught the matured gleam now stripped of whatever carefree sparkle once graced their eyes, the tragedies they both withstood in their time at school, the weariness that came with demands that required their individual expertises.

“You hanging in there?” Penny asked Clara quietly. “I know it’s been hard on all of us.”

Clara nodded solemnly. “Trying to. It wasn’t hard when the names in the list of casualties were still unrecognizable, but it’s different now when everyone you knew gave their all to protect the school and the Boy Who Lived. Not to say I regret it--”

“I know what you mean. I’m sure none of them regretted it either,” Penny assured her.

“At least we’re still together,” Clara said with a shrug. “Jacob, little Em and I at least escaped the war unscathed. And you’ve got Beatrice, too.”

Beatrice nodded as she produced another stuffed Puffskein from her pocket--almost similar to the one she gave Clara when they first met--and gave it to her. “Is your sister coming?”

“She should be,” Clara confirmed with a nod. “Do come in, both of you. We have cake and Butterbeer in the parlour, and I think Barnaby should almost be finished with grooming the Puffskeins.”

The second one to arrive, much to Clara’s surprise, was Skye Parkin, her Wigtown Wanderers jersey billowing in the wind as she hopped off her Comet 290 in front of their house.

“Skye!” Clara exclaimed upon her arrival. “I wasn’t sure you’d make it, what with training for your upcoming tournaments.”

“This means a lot to you, doesn’t it? I might as well be there for it,” Skye responded shortly, giving Clara a small smile. “Besides, one of our Chasers recently came down with a serious bout of Scrofungulus. We don’t have any backup players to properly play against the Applewood Arrows today.”

“Oh. That’s a bummer. You wish I was there to step up to the plate?” Clara asked, remembering fondly her short tenure as Chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

“It would be nice. But I figured you need time to...you know,” Skye said uneasily, and Clara nodded in understanding.

Shortly after Skye went in to help herself to some of Barnaby’s cake and chat with Penny, Andre, Murphy, and Orion made their appearance on Clara’s doorstep. Andre’s Pride of Portree jersey flapped in the wind behind him, in the same manner as Skye’s jersey. Murphy’s colourful tie worn for all his Quidditch commentating duties was swapped today with a black bowtie. Orion was also wearing all black from head to toe.

“I told the staff that I wasn’t feeling well,” Murphy explained. “And I’m not! There’s a 95.7% chance that after such a travesty it’s hard to think of the light ahead.”

“But what is light without darkness?” Orion asked. “It’s with light that we have darkness.”

“Or should it be the other way around?” Andre queried, raising an eyebrow. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re doing this, Curse-breaker. In a time like this, I think we all really need it.”

“Thanks, Andre. And I’m happy to see you’re alive and well too, Murphy and Orion,” Clara said, bowing them into her home where they went to the parlour to meet Penny, Beatrice, Skye and Barnaby.

Soon, Chiara, Jae, Diego, and little Em all arrived together, the girls holding onto extravagant bouquets of colourful flowers. Jae was holding tightly onto Chiara’s free hand, balancing a large box of delicacies in his other hand. Diego’s fingers were interlaced with little Em’s, his scarf from his old school days wrapped around little Em’s shoulders to keep her warm.

“Darn it. I miss my hoodie already,” Jae muttered, his teeth chattering slightly.

“Relax, Jae. It’ll only be for today,” Chiara consoled him with a small smile before turning towards Clara. “How are you doing, Clara?”

“Faring as well as I can,” Clara simply said, smiling wanly at the group. “Thanks for coming, guys--really, it means a lot.”

“Anything to get to spend time with you, Clara,” little Em reassured her older sister with a hug. “I would not miss my sister’s wedding for anything in the world.”

Diego nodded in agreement as little Em returned to his side shortly after. “Indeed. How swiftly childhood leaves us as we emerge as veterans from a war well fought and won.”

“I just hope that this celebration would mark the first chapter of genuine happiness for all of us,” Chiara finally piped up. “With all that’s happened, I figured we all need it.”

A little while into the afternoon, Tulip, Liz, and Badeea arrived together, Badeea’s hands still smeared with paint as she brought in a giant portrait of their fallen friends. Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Percy, George, and Angelina followed swiftly, George still trying to hold back tears as he held fast to Angelina’s hand; Clara couldn’t blame him. George didn’t just lose a brother in the battle, after all; he lost his twin, his second half who understood him better than anyone.

How quickly everyone’s grown, Clara realized, as she closed the door behind the Weasleys and followed them into the parlour. Glancing around at her friends grabbing drinks and some of Jae’s homemade delicacies or the cake Barnaby made, talking in low voices among themselves like old friends, she could see the hint of sadness in their eyes along with the gleam of maturity that long replaced the carefree, happy spirit they once felt. They fought more than just one battle, leaving them all with more scars than they’d hoped for--yet through their grief, they remained standing strong. They had weathered through so many storms together that they became the storm themselves.

“Is that everyone?” Chiara asked quietly as she sipped from her bottle of Butterbeer, watching the large crowd mill around the parlour and the kitchen. “Or are we still waiting for a few people?”

Clara frowned as she glanced at the clock--it was now five in the afternoon, and there were still a few last stragglers she had yet to see. “I think we have Ismelda and Jacob to wait for,” she eventually answered. “Jacob I know is with my parents, but Ismelda...I haven’t heard from her since the end of the war.”

“Ismelda’s still alive?” Penny asked, raising a brow and glancing at Beatrice.

“What are you looking at me for?” Beatrice inquired, grabbing another piece of cake from the dainty multi-tiered platter on the table. “I haven’t kept tabs on Ismelda either since I graduated from school.”

CRACK!

A sudden Apparition within the house made everyone jump, Beatrice almost dropping her cake in the shock--when the smoke cleared, Clara saw Ismelda and Erika standing in the middle of the parlour, travelling cloaks fastened tight around them. Ismelda quickly drew her arm away from Erika, massaging her upper arm to rid it of the soreness in the potential death grip.

“Did you have to grip onto me that hard?” Ismelda grumbled, shooting Erika a death glare. “And I thought I already told you I didn’t want to go!”

“I had to do what I could to make sure you got here in one piece,” Erika shrugged. “And if you say another word about this gathering being nothing but a waste of time--”

“Fine, fine.” Ismelda shook her head, a groan escaping her mouth. “Anything to save you from using me as your practice dummy.”

“That’s more like it.” Erika gave her a little smirk, her eyes darting about the rest of the group. “So this is what a party for the dead looks like.”

“Not much of a party so much as it is just a time to come together,” Murphy corrected her. “And it’s a good thing Clara’s hosting this for us. I figured we all needed it.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s just get this show on the road,” Ismelda finally said. “Is there anything we can do besides just…” She gestured around the room. “Eat cake and drink Butterbeer and mope?”

“Well…” Clara glanced around at the group--it felt a lot like the Circle of Khanna all over again, except this time there was no one else to stand by her for support. The days when Ben and Merula flanked by her were long gone now, both of them now buried in their graves a few feet below. “We prepared a bonfire pit in the backyard, and enough sky lanterns for all of us.”

“Sky lanterns?” Tulip asked, intrigued. “I haven’t seen one of those in so long. They’re part of the ceremony, right?”

“Of course,” Clara nodded. “They’re an integral part, so to say.”

“Nothing’s ever been the same since, well…” Skye glanced awkwardly at the group around her. “I mean, I’m not one to go all mushy but...I can’t imagine all of us losing people we care about so much. And all of you are great people in some way--”

She was suddenly cut off by Penny embracing her in a hug, which Skye returned hesitantly, burying her face into Penny’s shoulder.

“The people who love us never really leave us,” Barnaby piped up then. “I remembered how bad I felt when Rowan died...and then I thought I would lose Clara too when she left for China. But time taught me that they’ll always be here with us no matter where they are. Bright souls will shine like bright stars in the sky, now and forever. I found a lot of comfort in looking at the stars every night.”

These words brought a scarlet dust to Clara’s cheeks, and she smiled at him ruefully as she took his hand, lacing her fingers with his. Whether that was a vow intended for their wedding or not, she would never know, but it was enough for her to make her melt on the spot.

“You’re right,” Bill nodded thoughtfully at Barnaby’s words, taking Fleur’s hand and squeezing it tight. “The stars provide comfort for those who need it most. It’s really in the darkness where we can find the light.”

At this, Andre gave Orion a pointed look, and Orion just shrugged it off, nodding at Bill.

“I suppose there’s really no use in waiting any longer,” Clara eventually said--the sun was just beginning to set, and the group was getting much too large to accommodate indoors. “Let’s all head outside to the backyard. Barnaby, can you lead them? I have...something to collect from upstairs.”

Barnaby nodded at his fiancee, kissing her lightly on the cheek. “Of course, my unicorn.” He then motioned to the rest of the group to follow him. “Come on outside, everyone.”

As everyone filed out, Clara headed towards the stairs and began to ascend two steps a time--the moment she reached the landing she wasted no time in heading to her bedroom and opening the door to her closet. Peering into the mass of fabrics, her eyes landed at the bottom of the cabinet, where a single dagger laid in its black sheath lined with golden dragons, laced through the leather belt she had to wear in her days at the Chinese Wizarding Task Force.

To most, it seemed like a simple ornate dagger, most likely an article of decorum worn by royals in important ceremonies. With a polished ruby pommel at the end of a leather grip hilt, and a few engravings on the blade, it looked insignificant, almost ordinary. But to those who served in the task force it meant so much more--it was a weapon she had used in the fight against the Japanese dark wizards on more than one occasion. Where magic failed, the dagger had helped her lay many a blow on those too fast to hit with a spell, those who resisted the effects of magic in ways she would never know. She fought along those who had also given their life for the cause, fought with the same blade she held now--never a day went by when she didn’t think of them. Some survived, some died, and all for a united cause.

She honoured so many of the unknown dead with this knife strapped to her side. It only seemed fitting that she did it now, too.

“Clara? You coming?”

Clara turned around just as she looped the belt around her waist--standing at the doorway to her room was her little sister, head tilted in intrigue and eyes shining in concern.

“Yeah. Sorry.” Clara adjusted the belt over her clothes and walked over to little Em. “I was just...getting this dagger. Custom to wear it for funerals when I was working with the Chinese Wizarding Task Force.”

“Ah.” Little Em nodded thoughtfully. “Sorry, I should have knocked.”

“No need to apologize.”

It had been much too long since Clara last saw her little sister, her little Em--four months since the end of the Battle where they fought together but not at each other’s side, never getting to see each other after the dust had settled over the ruins and the wounds had all but healed in their natural time. What once were two young children who bonded in a sole promise to protect each other within the walls of Hogwarts were now two women who had no idea how to shield each other from the other side of the world. It was only a miracle that they hadn’t lost the other to the perils of the world turned upside down by none other than Voldemort himself. Moments like these between two sisters bound by blood were far and few in between since then.

“I’ve missed you so much, Clara,” little Em finally admitted. “I was worried about Jacob in the fight but when I heard you were there at Hogwarts too…”

“I thought I’d never see you again, either. I wasn’t sure if I was able to make it out of the war alive,” Clara mumbled. “How, though?”

“Stuck close with Diego. It helps to have a strong dueller at your side,” little Em said. “And you?”

“I was with Tonks at first, but when she was defeated I had to hold my own,” Clara replied. “It wasn’t easy to feel that drive to fight after seeing a casualty right in front of your eyes, but I’ve had enough practice.”

“You shouldn’t have to keep suffering, Clara. I know why you joined the task force in China, but...promise me that at the end of all of this you’ll find some peace and happiness,” little Em pleaded. “All your life you’ve been fighting, and I understand it was for a cause. Just...I don’t want you to break under all the pressure. You have so many people who worry about you, and it would break my heart to find that you’ll never find happiness again at the end of the day.”

“Em.” Clara turned to face her sister now, a small smile on her face. “All I want is to make you happy, to fight for your happiness and safety every day. Knowing that you’re here and you’re happy and safe is enough for me to feel happy and safe.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Yes, I promise.”

Little Em smiled, a brief second of relief, before taking her sister’s hand and leading her out of her room. “Come on. Everyone’s waiting for you.”

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