Claire Pepper was wife to Francis, and mother of three boys, Thomas, Ambrose and Timothy. In the summer of 2008, Thomas attempted to obliviate his mother after an accident and she has been a long term patient for spell damage ever since. She fell victim to the contamination of potions in the early hours.
11amThe worry lines around her eyes were deeper than he remembered. Two years of frowning, confusion and dismay
[1] had left their mark upon her pretty face. This was the most peaceful she had ever looked since before the incident. Finally at peace, as he had feared it would take
[2]. This was the woman he had been in love with, well, of sorts, a different love, no less valid, happy, supportive.
He could still remember how it had been, three young boys packed into their home in Biggleswade, the wireless on and the smell of cooking. The laughter as she had kissed each of her 'boys' in turn as they sat down to dinner around the table on an evening. The queries of how many hours between lunch and dinner that day for Francis and the second helping if it had been a particularly long day.
Her wedding dress still in the wardrobe until her family had picked it up only a few months ago with the rest of her things which had been packed into the loft. She would never have worn it again, but it held sentimental value. Enough to run her hands over it and smile in memory.
And here, now, the witch he had married sixteen years ago, was more recognisable to him than she had been for two years hence. The obliviation had changed Claire irreparably. She couldn't remember Francis, couldn't remember her children and it tore a great hole for them all
[3]. Their sons had grown up before time in the wake
[4]. It had hurt deeply to see her so upset when she couldn't remember, when he couldn't touch her and she cried at him, desperate for him to leave her alone when all he wanted was to comfort her.
Alone now in the hospital's morgue, he touched her hand ever so gently. She was cold beneath his fingertips, not at all as how he remembered, and he let out an odd little noise. Two years of regret suddenly forcing their way through him. Everything that he wanted to say but knew that Claire would never be able to understand clamouring at his throat.
"I'm so sorry," he gasped, "for everything, for what he did to you, for putting you through my grief, for not standing by you as I vowed. Oh Merlin…
Claire." He bowed his head a moment, curls falling forward. "It wasn't meant to be like this, you and I, why did it have to be?" Francis drew breath, sitting up a little straighter on the stool beside his former wife's body.
"We were happy."He didn't want to remember her like this, and yet he couldn't let go without this selfish goodbye, even after everything.
"Thank you, for what we had, for Ambrose and Timothy. For being there for me. I won't forget. I promise. We won't forget."
[Dec 5] Time to Go [Snapshot]