When at last I thought I had him forever, he slipped through my fingers again.
When at last I thought I could find that ray of sunshine in the sudden storm, it disappeared behind even darker storm clouds.
There was no way I could continue chasing th...
Barnaby Lee was no stranger to me--especially since he's described so often now as Clara's sweetheart.
I mean, that was the most I could call him, right? I wasn't sure if he and Clara were really a confirmed couple, but I did know that they were fond of each other either way, the way his eyes always lit up whenever he told me about her and vice versa. Interacting with Slytherins before him made me put my guard up more than I'd like, but being friends with Hillary really showed that not all Slytherins were that bad after all. He had a kind heart, and he always came by with sweets--a good sign that he cared so much about me because he cared a lot about her.
At least to me, he's a good friend. That's enough for me.
And speaking of my sister...well, she turned into a blushing mess the minute we stepped onto the Training Grounds, walking right over to where Barnaby and Badeea were painting on big square canvases sitting atop their easels. I could see her face turn crimson as we approached them, and I had to drag her over to them with my hand firm over her wrist.
I suppose she had it really hard for him after all.
"Hey, Clara!" he greeted her with a wave. "Hey, Em!"
He stepped aside then to reveal his canvas, where a single Bowtruckle was standing in the middle of some blue and white space on the canvas, a huge smile on its face. I almost cooed in awe at the sight of it--I had always wanted to see a real Bowtruckle, and to see that it looked this cute really made me smile. But Clara looked like she was actually going to cry.
That was when I remembered that in her fourth year, she named a Bowtruckle after our brother, Jacob, and had felt fiercely protective of it after relocating him in the Forbidden Forest last year while studying for her OWLs.
"So, what do you think of my painting?" he asked us, a big cheeky grin on his face.
"It's...really cute," I offered, nodding thoughtfully before looking up at my sister.
"It's...special," Clara responded then, wiping away the tears that began to trickle down her face. "I mean, you painted a Bowtruckle..."
"Not just any Bowtruckle. It's Jacob the Bowtruckle!" Barnaby said enthusiastically. "I guess I got inspired from our OWLs study session last year, and he reminded me of how you helped me believe in myself." He reached over and gently wiped her tears with his thumbs, coaxing a smile out of my sister. "Hope you didn't mind, of course. You've become my muse more often nowadays."
Oh. Well. That was definitely what they meant by "sweetheart."
"I can't tell if you meant it's good or bad, Clara," Badeea finally said after a moment's silence, looking at the two of them quizzically as if trying to find the right time to break the ice.
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"Exactly!" Barnaby responded. "That's what makes art so mysterious."
I simply glanced over from Barnaby's simple Bowtruckle painting to Badeea's nighttime shot of Hogsmeade--probably a little something to get her own creative juices flowing. I understood how much of a block she's had nowadays. "I wish I got a chance to appreciate art more," I murmured. "Never thought of it much after Beatrice got trapped in a portrait last year."
