Starting Spark

The Day After Christmas Holiday

Clarissa's P.O.V

        "Honestly, weren't you thinking Harry? Use your brain! If Filch found out that you were out of bed, roaming around three nights in a row you would've been out of school already!" Hermione said in a high pitched whisper, that sounded like a disappointed mother speaking to their child.

        "I know, but I didn't get caught!" Harry said, smiling.

        "Honestly!" She repeated over and over again, unpacking all her things. 

        "Anyways, let's not ruin the Christmas spirit just yet." I said, hopefully calming her. But I knew it was no use. She was going to roam on and on about it over and over again. 

        "And even with you wandering around the school grounds at night, you still haven't found out about Nicholas Flamel! You were suppose to do that! Not wander around in the middle of the night looking for a mirror!" Hermione shrieked, or half whispered, without knowing how much it would've hurt Harry.

        I know that discovering the Mirror of Erised was one of the best thing that Harry has ever done, it brought his parents back to him. It brought back the only thing that he desired the most in just one imagine. She wouldn't understand.

        I've heard of the Mirror of Erised, and I knew exactly what would show up if I was to stand right in front of it. I would see my father, with the book of Beedle bedtime stories in his arms. He'd be smiling, laughing even. Then my mother would stand next to me, she would look less tired and less stressed out. She would be happier. She would look like herself again.

        I knew just exactly how Harry felt. Losing a part of a family. Losing both parents was terrible enough, but losing only one was worse. Imagine, having to live with only on person but always knowing that the other person would've been there for you too if they didn't die. If you know what I mean. 

        Every once in a while, I'd be able to hear my mother sob through the thin layers of the walls in our house. I would hear her crying over the fact that my father had died. The fact that my father had left the face of Earth. Though I know he's probably in a better place, I still miss him. I miss him so very much.

        I close my eyes, hoping that the tears would stay away from the way of escaping. I wish I would've valued the times with my father more than I had already did. My father was the nicest person I've ever met in my whole life, and I know the Weasleys. 

        He would be the one who'd brush my hair before I go to bed, tell me how much he loves me when I start to cry because of the bullies in the muggle school. He would give the best hugs in the world. I would never trade him for anything. Not even for Sour Intestines.

        But life didn't play it fairly, they took him away. Away before I knew it. Before I could react. Before I realize it. He was withering from the disease that he caught.

        "Clarissa, are you crying?" Hermione asked, her voice softened.

        I shook my head, "I'll be fine. Now, let's just get going, I expect the feast would start soon."

        When Hermione and Harry had left, I feel Ron's hand on my shoulder.

        "I know how you feel, I mean not emotionally, but I know what you were thinking about. If you want to talk about it, I mean it's better if you do, I'm here for you. Okay, buddy?" He rubbed my shoulder as I gave him a nod, though still keeping quiet.

*        *        *

        A couple days later all four of us bumped into Neville, who had managed to remember the password to the portrait hole.