One more time with a sad, sad smile [Clara]

John was nervous. More nervous than usual, actually. He had been planning something like this for a while, but plans had changed and now he wasn’t sure what to do. He and Clara had been really hitting it off over the past few months, ever since he’d taken her to the World Cup. The weekend there had brought them closer than colleagues. They had become, at the very least, friends. He thought Clara was clever and graceful and interesting as well as beautiful. He loved to pick her brain, listen to her thoughts, and share their opinions. They debated heartily, shared stories, and drank far too much wine. Even so, he was a proper gentleman and had not taken advantage during their weekend abroad. They had shared kisses since then, though, and John was beginning to think of Clara as more of a girlfriend than just a friend—despite the fact that, up to this point, their relationship had been fairly chaste. It was early on in their regular meetups that John had elected not to take any other lovers, despite there being no label or expectation of fidelity. He wanted to focus on her exclusively, though. He didn’t need the meaningless one night stands with girls young enough to be his daughter anymore. That life had been lonely. With Clara, he was much happier. His coworkers could all tell that he was in better spirits, even though they had kept even their casual meetups under-wraps.
 
For the holidays, he had planned another elaborate trip—this time to Australia. Maybe it was presumptuous, but he had booked a single room for them both. He was planning on making things more official between them while they soaked up summer sun in December. He didn’t care much for the holidays anymore. They reminded him of his life with Amelia, of Carina, and her as a little girl opening presents and celebrating and singing Christmas carols as they snuggled by the fire. He remembered those the best—the ones where Carina was young and Amelia and John had been happy together. It was sad for him to remember. Nowadays he spent Christmas holidays alone, usually. There was no cheer in his home, ne traditions or decorations or presents. Just John, eating his reheated takeaway on the couch, alone. He had someone this year, though, but the idea of Christmas was just too fresh and too quiet and too intimate. They weren’t quite at the point where he felt comfortable exposing all of himself, and just being with her, closely, without some reason to be there. Some distraction like scuba diving on the great barrier reef. He still felt as though he needed to throw his money around to impress her.
 
Of course, that was before he got the owl from his parents. They had invited him to Christmas a few weeks before, and John had regretfully declined, thinking of Clara and his upcoming Australia trip. However, soon after his mother came down with a case of dragon pox that had made her very sick. Her husband, being a muggle, had no idea how to take care of her. She had gone to a nearby hospital and was being treated but the scare took a toll on John. His parents weren’t getting any younger, and John had always been especially close with his mother. He worried about her, and being so suddenly reminded of her mortality had shaken him up a bit. He had cancelled the trip to Australia, with some financial loss, and had planned to visit his parents for Christmas instead. Unfortunately, John had already been dropping hints to Clara about big plans coming up for December. He had told her to save a few days during the season, but hadn’t told her the whole story. Now, the story had changed… and he was nervous. Asking her to go on a tropical vacation was one thing, but asking her to visit his family with him felt a great deal more personal.
 
He waited until he knew she had seen her last patient for the day, and made his way into her office. He leaned in her open doorway with a grin. It was very much against the rules for him to date a member of his department as the Head Healer, so he tried to keep things under wraps. He had always pushed that rule, flirting with all the interns and new hires. Most people knew better than to take him seriously. It was different with Clara, but no one else needed to know his flirtation was more than just friendly. He smiled at her as he carefully caught her eye, and he welcomes himself into the office, closing the door behind him.
 
“Hey.” He greeted. “Busy day today?” He asked.

@Clara Hansen

Clara straightened her patient files, then adjusted them again with two hands and a furrowed brow until the edges were exactly parralel to the precipice of the desk. She’d been running late almost all day – much to her disdain – and had only now had a minute to finish making notes on several of the day’s patients. As she absently patted down some flyaways she was convinced she’d spotted in the reflective surface of the window, she wondered if she ought to try and take some time off over Christmas after all – but she had already offered to cover shifts to John.

Healer Lennox, she reminded herself.

It had seemed only fair; she had no family to spend the holidays with, why not allow some of her colleagues to enjoy the time with their husbands and wives, their children? He’d said no, at first, that she had the most leave available of anyone in the department (she was never sick, never took unscheduled days off) and therefore had to use some of it.

The petite brunette got to her feet, then jumped lightly at John appearing in the doorway – as if he’d somehow known she’d been thinking about him – one hand flew to her chest as she grinned with her eyes closed, a warm tinge making its way to her cheeks. She opened her eyes and her lips twisted into a naughty sort-of smile as he closed the door behind him. “Busy,” she replied with a soft nod, raising her eyebrows as she glanced at the stack of documents on her desk. “Not to mention all the patients who don’t want to be treated by ‘the Swedish girl’,” her smile turned wry and her eyes quickly found their way back to his. She immediately felt like it didn’t matter what those people had said, that only John’s opinion mattered – and she knew that he didn’t care whether she was Swedish or Scottish.

“I understand,” she said quietly, referring to the British wizarding public’s reluctance to fraternise with anything and anyone Swedish given the current state of things. “It’s fine,” she added, hoping that it didn’t seem like she was complaining or that she couldn’t handle it. Clara stepped from behind her chair and slid it in with her foot, still gazing at him. It was so effortless for him, the way he made her stomach twist pleasantly simply by looking at her. Then it dawned on her that he’d made the trip to her office and she wondered what couldn’t wait until they had left the hospital – hopefully there hadn’t been a complaint against her. “What is it?” she asked suddenly, unable to stop herself.

John offered Clara a sympathetic smile. It was true, there was some distain for the Swedes in the current political climate, what with the Swedish minister demanding the release of a dangerous Death Eater from Azkaban, and indeed, all of the Swedish Minister’s new policies. Plus, there was a bias against foreigners in general—not that John cared one way or another if Clara was Swedish. She was great, as far as he was concerned.  Her background only made her a little more interesting, as they could discuss her years at Durmstrang and his years at Hogwarts and compare/contrast. He’d asked her at length about her schooling, really, and found it fascinating. He hadn’t talked much about her homeland, though he’d mentioned he wouldn’t mind visiting. That was one place he had never been, but perhaps it was better suited for the summer months, since it was always rather cold there, or so he had heard.
 
“You’re a fantastic healer.” He promised.  “It’s their loss if they don’t want you treating them. Next time you get a hard case, make sure to let me know. I’ll ensure they’re informed they have one of the best and brightest St. Mungo’s has to offer.” He grinned. He moved closer to her, putting his hand over hers while they were alone. He leaned in and stole a brief kiss on her cheek. “But, of course, you know that already. That’s not why I’m here.” He said, pulling back.
 
“I had it all planned out, you know. I had the hotel booked and the tickets bought for our Christmas adventure, but it looks like it’ll need to be postponed, unfortunately.” He sighed. “Should I even tell you my plans? I mean, I suppose I should. I was hoping to whisk you away to Australia for a few days, so we could lounge around in the sunshine.” He admitted. “It’s Summer there, you know.” He knew she knew, but wanted to remind her.
 
“Something’s come up…. My mother, bless her, has just recovered from a round of Dragon pox. She’s invited me over for Christmas and I can’t bear to say no to her after she went through something so terrible. I was hoping that…” He paused, looking away from her eyes for a moment “That you’d join me. I know meeting the family isn’t as glamorous as a resort on the beach, but I’d like for you to come. I know my mother wouldn’t mind seeing you, either. It’ll be better than it was with my father, I assure you. My mother is a real lady… A bit demanding, I suppose, but still… a lady.”
 
He looked back at her, trying to gauge her reaction. He wasn’t sure how she would take the invitation. They weren’t even officially exclusive, though he wasn’t taking other lovers and had made steps to ensure she knew that. Still, meeting the parents transcended their lack of labels. By accepting, she was almost definitely admitting to being his girlfriend. It was different than when his father had gotten them tickets to the four corners match the month previous. He hoped she wouldn’t mind, though. He hated to travel alone, and wouldn’t mind taking their casual relationship into something more serious.

Clara smiled, at first demurely and then a little bashfully, as John complimented her. She gripped back at his hand, greedy for his touch and for his reassurance. He moved in closer and as his lips brushed her cheek she felt a familiar thrill run up her spine. They’d been careful, so far, not to reveal… whatever they were, to the rest of their department. It would be unprofessional to work so closely and be together, and Clara didn’t want anyone to assume John was favouring her when it came to shifts, time off, or potential promotions in the future -- she liked to pretend that he was being fair, but she wasn’t that naive. If anyone found out, the least of their worries would be Clara having to change her schedule.

The petite brunette gazed up at him. Her expression shifted from curious and mild suspicion to concern and sympathy, and finally to surprise. Australia. How much would that have cost? She didn’t like to think. Clara knew John was a bachelor, and thanks to being a Head of Department his salary wasn’t poor, but the idea that he would spend money -- that much, especially -- on her, when they weren’t yet officially together. She swallowed softly, frowning up at him, “What happened?” She would address Australia (and how amazing it sounded) later.

Clara’s first concern was that John’s mother was alright -- the Swedish woman didn’t have the best relationship (or any, at present) with her own mother, but she understood what it meant to have someone so close take ill. John kept talking, Clara nodded along up until he paused and broke their eye contact. She looked away herself for a moment, trying to collate her thoughts and compose her feelings. He wanted her to spend Christmas with him. To meet his family. Clara froze, her hand still clutching his, as an overwhelming feeling of deja vu wrapped around her and threatened to suffocate her where she stood. Hans. That had been the last Christmas she’d spent with anyone close to family, and look what had come of it.

The rest of John’s invitation-turned-small speech washed over her as she stared into space, focusing but unseeing. She didn’t hate the holiday -- had always loved it, in fact -- but the past few years she’d spent it alone, half bitter and half depressed; the other Dilys Derwent students had generally gone home or been with their partners. Clara stayed in, read books, pretended it was just another day off because she had no-one to help distract her from the fact she couldn’t spend Christmas with her family anymore. A self-imposed exile, but one she wasn't planning to break any time soon.

At some point, Clara felt John’s eyes on her and she twitched her head back to him. “Sorry,” she started, shaking her head. “I just-- I haven’t spent a Christmas with anyone in… since I moved here," she said candidly, if quietly. She hadn’t talked to John about her family yet. They’d compared Durmstrang and Hogwarts, talked about what had changed at Dilys Derwent since John had attended -- and what had stayed the same. Clara had tactfully avoided the time between leaving Durmstrang and her moving to London, including the real reason for doing so. John had, politely, never pressed her.

More urgent than revealing that truth was the invitation still looming in the air between them. Clara's chest felt like it was going to explode and her stomach was going to fall out. This was serious. Meeting his father had been one thing (that she wouldn't mind forgetting), but John had always spoken well of his mother. He was staring at her expectantly.

“Yes.” She nodded. “I’d love to come.”