|| REWRITING ||
Clara Potter has always been much more serious than her mischievous younger brother and his unruly band of friends. For much of their youth, the Marauders would do anything in their power to get under the Potter girl's skin, but none...
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.・。.・゜✭・.・✧・゜・。.
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, an exhausted James Potter ambled down to the common room just before breakfast. Clara, on the other hand, was bright-eyed and alert, having long since forgotten the anxiety she felt when Lily had awoken her the night before. She had been in the midst of a conversation with Fabian and Gideon when her brother approached them and cleared his throat. All three turned to the boy who admittedly looked a bit worse for wear.
"Alright, Potter?" Fabian asked James with a lilt of amusement.
"You look like you've been hit by about eighteen Bludgers, mate." Gideon added with a chuckle, which earned him a sharp elbow in the ribs from Clara.
"Could I have a word?" James asked his sister, ignoring the twins entirely.
His tone was much more serious than she'd ever heard and her face fell as she gave him a nod. Fabian's arm slipped from her shoulder as she stepped away from the twins and followed her brother into the sixth year boys' dorm. It was completely empty, the usual suspects she thought would have been sleeping in on a Sunday were nowhere to be seen.
Two unmade beds showed some sign of life. But the other two bunks in between these dishevelled states of crumpled sheets looked pristine and untouched since the last time the house elves had made their rounds the morning before.
Clara took a seat on the empty bed to the right of James'. With no evidence as to whose perfectly made bed she was sitting on, Clara found herself instinctively glancing around for any clues. The half empty packet of cigarettes on the nightstand was all the affirmation she needed to know that she was sitting on Sirius' bed. As her fingers ran over the crimson duvet, it was clear that he hadn't slept there last night. But before she could allow her mind to run wild, finding some sort of explanation as to why, her brother sat down on his own bed and cleared his throat, gathering all of her attention.
James took off his glasses and rubbed along the bridge of his crooked nose with pinched fingers as a sigh slipped from his lips. As he replaced the spectacles, he met his sister's gaze, "Something bad happened last night."
Fear flashed in her eyes, "Is it mum and dad? Are they alright?"
He shook his head quickly, "No, no. It's nothing like that."
"Then what's wrong? What happened?"
The worry in his sister's voice was not something James had been prepared to handle. It was always her taking care of him, her who had to deal with the serious issues in their lives, her who had all the answers, her being the responsible one. James was entirely out of his depths.
Another sigh escaped from the troubled boy and then silence as his brows pinched together while his eyes were fixed to the floor. A weary hand ran through his dark and unruly hair, tugging at the strands for a moment as he tried to get his thoughts in order.
