The Quiet Kind Of Beauty -Marauder Era

Chapter 22

Play it back and press rewind

To when you traced your fingers, drew my spine

Lost it's beat and so I find

Starve my heart of touch and time

So what do I do now?

- DKLA, Troye Sivan

~*~

Clara missed them.

She missed her friends so much.

It never occurred to her before, the impact that they would have on her life. They were a part of her life, the best parts, that she always expected to have around. But now that she was alone, she felt the silence and empty air unraveling her in the most nostalgic way possible.

Ever since her brother had left, Clara had always been alone during the summers. She would occupy herself with the homework she was assigned to do, take notes for the next year's classes, anything to keep her mind busy. Now, she wasn't even a student, and the restlessness was driving her crazy.

After a tense breakfast with her father, he left for a meeting, leaving her with a curt, "Send any of them a letter, and I will know," before apparating away.

So, for the rest of the day, she wondered through the grounds of her father's property, made small talk with Bailiwick, who was genuinely a calming presence. She helped him prepare lunch ("Bailiwick, move over, I'm here to help whether you like it or not."), and they both ate in the garden.

She didn't see her father again until dinner, during which she took the opportunity to ask, "When is the fitting?"

Joseph didn't look up. "Ten o'clock sharp. I imagine it would take around two hours,"

"When will we lea-"

"I've made arrangements for you to collect your things at Kings Cross, if that's what you're about to ask. The train arrives at two," He cut, setting his fork down to lift a glass of wine to his lips.

Clara nodded down at her plate.

~*~

Clara arrived early for the fitting, wearing a light blue sundress, sandals, and a large, floppy hat to hide the sunburn on her nose (she knew spending the entire day in the sun would cause her to burn, but like always, she refused to acknowledge her better judgement). Daniel, however, was nowhere to be seen, even after the appointed time. Now, normally Clara wouldn't be the type of person who would note on tardiness, but in the moment, she blew up at her bangs in irritation and examined her surroundings for the fifth time. The shop was small, but decorated with expensive, mahogany furniture and imported rugs. One half of the shop was dedicated to dresses of every kind, while the other half held men's wear. Decorative lace and beads flew through the air, and into the hands of the witches and wizards to called for them. From the corner of her eye, she saw her seamstress, a short, plump women with a round face and silver hair, make her way towards her.

"Miss Campbell, shall we start choosing dress designs while we wait for your fiance?" The seamstress asked politely.

Slightly taken aback by the word 'fiance', Clara missed a beat. "Of course, Madame,"