Lucky's Memories

[Luckett Langford]

Luckett Langford's

MEMORIES

[Lena]

Early Years

N/A

Pre-Hogwarts

N/A

Hogwarts - prior to 5th year

Age 14 - Cold Granite Stone

SPOILER: Click to show

Rain at a funeral, what a bloody cliché.

The rain came down in a constant drizzle, soaking Luckett's body into a chilled state, even though his umbrella was large enough for two people. With the never-ending rain came the dreary sky, like all the color had been sucked out of the scene and had been replaced with the pessimistic and miserable gloom of dark greys and blues. The charged, brisk air carried a mist that accompanied the annoying rain, leaving him damp in his sweater, and shivering.

Luckett used to love the rain.

A rainstorm used to be something that filled him with joy and possibilities. He could curl up by the fireplace, Quidditch Through The Ages in hand, wearing his coziest socks while enjoying the pitter patter of the rain against the windowpanes. He'd glance out the window, watching the raindrops slide down the glass, branching off in different directions and collecting at the bottom of the window. It was a time when Luckett was at peace, when he felt the most at ease.

Now, he hated the rain.

She wouldn't have wanted this. She wouldn't have wanted people standing in front of her stone crypt, dressed in the darkest colors they owned, and wallowing in a deep depression about her untimely death. She would've wanted there to be a big party. She would've wanted everyone dressed in their best clothes, drinking until the room spun, and listening to music while dancing.

She would've wanted people to celebrate her life, not mourn her death.

Luckett glared at the sparkling granite stone, which was obscenely large, which stuck out like a sore thumb against the bleak scenery of the cemetery. The grass was even dying. How hard was it for the caretaker to water some dumb grass? The weather was doing half the work.

A tap on his shoulder broke him from his thoughts, and he glanced around -- realizing that he'd zoned out long enough to miss the dreaded service. Thank Merlin. Almost everyone had left, which was a blessing, considering the majority of the attendants weren't all that close to her.

His shoes squished in the soggy ground, as his numb, cold legs carried him towards her final resting place. He could hear each squelch, breaking the silence of the empty cemetery, stopping directly in front of the marker and taking in the detailing. The thing was beautiful, there was no doubt about that, but it was the one object he had hoped he'd never be forced to see.

Reaching out a hand, he slowly trailed his finger along the smooth, cool surface of the granite stone. There was a plaque on the top, which had her name, an engraving of her wand, and an epitaph stating she had been a loving grandmother. Closing his eyes for a moment, Luckett felt the emotions he'd been trying to hold down and lock away start to bubble to the surface.

The five stages of grief were a bunch of bollocks. It wasn't stages. You didn't just go through one emotion, then move onto the next. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance had hit Luckett like he had laid on the Hogwarts Express' train tracks and let the oncoming passenger train shred him across the entirety of the earth. Every single emotion had all hit him at once, completely crippling any form of self-control he'd had when it came to his emotions.

'You promised.' He ground out through his clenched teeth, the burn behind his eyes warning him of oncoming tears. His throat was tight, lump threatening to close any form of necessary breathing. He tried breathing through his nose, but the uneven breaths just whistled through his stuffy nostrils, causing his labored breathing to become a painful task, as his chest burned.

Each breath that was exhaled from his lungs shook more and more, the frequency of his breaths increasing with every second. The tears that had burned behind his eyeballs were beginning to blur the scene in front of him, saving him from having to stare at the date that the one person that was supposed to be there forever was ripped away. His grip on his umbrella slipped, due to the constant shivering through his hands. His entire body was trembling too, just as hard.

'You promised.. you promised that you.. you would always be here.' Sobs racked his cold chest, as the fourteen-year old leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the sharp temperature of the chilled stone, closing his eyes and freeing the tears. 'You promised!'

The knot in his stomach tightened and his hand slid from the stone to his side, moving so he could wrap his arms around himself -- shivering from the cold, and curling into himself to ease the pain in his chest. The cold had seeped into his bones, not that there was any warmth to begin with -- how was he supposed to ever feel warm again, when the warmest he felt was in the company of his grandmother? The only person that had always loved him unconditionally.

Age 15 - Sparks Fly

SPOILER: Click to show

It was one of those warm summer nights when you wanted to lose yourself and fall in love. One of those sweet and gentle evenings when you wanted to abandon yourself to life with no fears, no worries, and a certainty that nothing could hurt you. The air was as thick as honey, but it wasn't bothersome, especially to two smitten teenagers in their own little fantasy world.

'Are you sad summer's coming to an end in a couple weeks?' Lucky brushed a thumb against Amelia's cheek, as if to smooth away any sadness. 'I know I am.' He gently stroked her face, an affectionate look in his eyes. His tone was soft, almost dreamy. It was a side of Lucky that not many saw at school, but one Amelia had seen much of over the summer.

They were cuddled beneath a large oak, as crickets and fireflies sang and danced for the summer moon. The stars were out, as silent as they ever were, shining light on broomsticks and other Quidditch equipment scattered throughout the overgrown grass. The teenagers had enjoyed a long day of playing the sport that initially brought them together, and now, were basking in one another's company. It was their time alone, something they enjoyed.

'I will say, it won't be easy to catch moments like this back at school,' Amelia said as she let out a sigh, a smile playing at her lips and her back against Luckett's broad chest. 'But moments like these wouldn't be as special if we could enjoy them all the time.'

To be honest, seeing Luckett like this was still so surprising to her. But in hindsight, she should've seen past his playful nature before. At first, the idea of inviting him to stay at her home was just so she could have some fun with an amusing friend over the summer. She never thought it would lead to this: one of the most surprising, best choices she'd ever made.

The light from Molly Twiggs' kitchen could easily be seen, and Amelia smiled when she saw her mother's head hovering at the window. It was nearing dinner time and she wouldn't have been surprised if the woman had sent one of her siblings out to interrupt their precious time. But, maybe her mother would let them enjoy the last few evenings they had. Together, like this.

Amelia's eyes watched as a few glow-worms landed on her family's old, tattered Quidditch equipment and she sighed, knowing they would have to clean that up before they went inside.

'I'm sure we will make a few heads turn when we return to school. Who would guess that Luckett Langford got caught by a girl... especially by Amelia Twiggs?' She had spoken her words in a teasing tone as the summer sun continued to set, a smile on her face.

'It's because of that smile, Amelia. It does something to me. You do something to me, something I can't name but don't want to give up.' Luckett's words were buttery soft, encompassing the main emotion he felt in the moment as he looked at Amelia tenderly. 'When I see you happy, smiling... I can't stop staring at you. It makes me happy too.'

A moment of silence. Their eyes dallied with one another.

'That reminds me. I wanted to show you something.' He changed the subject, his lips close to her ears as he reached into a bag that was laid out beside them. 'My uncle gave me this wicked little potion -- it's supposed to protect you from burns... I think.' Lucky hoped he remembered right, otherwise this was going to be both embarrassing and painful.

He popped the cork and poured the liquid onto his palms, his muscular, sharp-featured face wreathing in a smile that caused the muscles of his jaw to stand out. He cautiously reached into the fire pit and scooped up a handful of fire, cupping it carefully in his hand. After shifting his weight to better give Amelia a look at what he had, Luckett offered it toward her. The edges of his fingers were glowing, as the tickle of the flame whispered across his palm.

'It blazes almost as much as I do for you, Amelia.' The flashes in his hand danced with the flirtation in his voice, the fire flickering with his breath. 'I'll do what I can to have these moments continue long past summer. I mean, I want this to last. I want us to last -- don't you?' Langford's eyes gleamed with a sincere hope, reflecting shades of the fire that flared between the pair of spellbound teenagers. He smiled. This felt proper romantic.

Amelia bit her lip as she smiled at his sweet, soft words. A blush had crept to her cheeks when she looked up at him with amazement, then turned to watch the fire dance inside his fingertips. Lucky's words were so special and she found herself thinking about them and what they could be, before the fire dissipated and left nothing but the warm flesh of his hands.

'Yes... yes I do. I want it to last for as long as time itself.' Amelia placed her hands over his own, closing her fingers around his. The sound of a door shutting told them that their time was ending and soon, someone would be coming to interrupt their sweet, special moment.