(A/N: Hi guys, so I've not written a large piece since my LotR fanfiction, so I've decided to have a go at this one. So please tell me what you think. My OC's are Charlotte and her family, at least so far, the rest belongs to the lovely J.K Rowling. So please enjoy and feel free to review)
1975, 1st September
Charlotte sat at the back of her parents beat up old truck, her arm hung over the large trunk on the old seats next to her. Her mother sat in front of her in the passenger seat, yelling at drivers that cut Charlotte's father who was hunched over the car steering-wheel, squinting his eyes at the cars in front of him. He was waving a hand dramatically at his wife, complaining about traffic and how they should have left earlier, and how time was important when it came to getting Charlotte to King's Cross station. When it came to these arguments, Charlotte decided not to get involved with them. In fact, even when it came to her parents, she wasn't like them.
Mr Lawrence, only ill-tempered when driving, was a wisp of a man. He tended to be hunched over, never standing to his full 6ft1. His hair was blond and thinning, his arms and legs were lanky, forcing his shirt sleeves and his trouser legs to ride up, showing off his wrists and ankles. His glasses askew and hiding his spring green eyes that Charlotte had inherited. His hands tended to be covered in paint, and a pencil was always tucked behind his ear to go along with the sketchbook he carried around in his back pocket no matter what outfit he wore.
Mrs Lawrence on the other hand was a small woman with curling brown hair that she always wore up in a tight bun. Her eyes always seemed wide in surprise. Mrs Lawrence had been a writer, but had given it up to be a mother to Charlotte, however, this didn't change the fact the curiosity that had come along with the job. She was a thin woman, who wore blouses and tight skirts. Charlotte was aware that her parents had been young when they had had her, a wild love affair gone into marriage, and soon after, a child, but she had always forgotten her young Mrs Lawrence was. Grey didn't little her hair, and age hadn't clouded over her dark brown eyes, nor had wrinkles marked her tan skin.
Charlotte heard the sound of her mother's window going down, the crank that she had always gotten used to when riding in the car with her mother and father. Charlotte watched in shock as her mother poked her head out of the car window, keeping her eyes on the cyclist she cupped a hand around her mouth.
"Wrong side of the road, Idiot!" Mrs Lawrence shouted before sitting back into the car and rolling the window back up. Charlotte flinched and then turned back to the window as they passed the cyclist, mouthing an apology to him, to which he smiled and nodded to. She gave a sigh, and threw herself back against the seat. "Don't do that, Darling. You'll ruin the seats." Her mother warned, Charlotte made a face at her mother, who didn't see it.
"They're already ruined, Mum. The cars ancient." Charlotte pointed out, this time her mother turned, just as her father was turning a corner to hunt for a parking space. Mrs Lawrence narrowed her eyes, and looked her daughter up and down.
"Watch your tongue young lady, I don't want to be seeing you off after fighting with you." She then turned back around, sat in her seat and looked at Mr Lawrence. "She never comes home any more, Darling. She's always in a bad mood when she does." Mrs Lawrence huffed out, Charlotte didn't dare say anything. It wasn't the first time this summer that her mother had talked about her like she wasn't in the room. Charlotte would say that it annoyed her, but she didn't bother. Instead, she just ignored it, tapping her hand on the trunk.
"She's becoming independent, Rochelle, it's typical for girls her age to go off and do her own thing. Plus, she's in a castle up north, she can't get up to much." Her father explained as he parked the car, and slid out the drivers side. Mrs Lawrence followed his stead, along with Charlotte, who began to tug her trunk out the car. Charlotte felt a hand on her shoulder, and turned around to see her father, a crooked smile on his thin face.
"I've got it, Charlie, don't you worry about it." Although Mr Lawrence was a thin man, and not seen as a man with much muscle, he had no problem picking up Charlotte's trunk, and placing it on its wheels at the end of the trunk, he then took the handle and began to walk, his wife beside them. Charlotte walked a little behind, having to scramble into the boot of the car and pull out her brand new broomstick. Coming from a Muggle family, her parents only ever gave her money and clothes for birthday's and Christmas, and had also asked others to do the same. Ever since she was eleven and found out she was a witch, Charlotte had converted the Muggle money into Galleons, Sickles and Knuts. She had used the money wisely, only buying robes, books and other essentials she needed, with her parents helping her along the way. The broomstick had been the first thing she had bought that wasn't exactly required for school, until she told her parents she was trying-out for her House's Qudditch team. With the new broom over her shoulder, Charlotte followed her parents happily towards the traffic-lights, before crossing to King's Cross.
Entering King's Cross station, the small family made their way across the station, towards platforms nine and ten, and stopped, her father turning over her trunk, and looking at Charlotte with sad eyes. Neither of her parents had stepped foot onto Platform 9¾. Whether they could or could not enter, Charlotte wasn't sure, but her parents had always told her that they didn't belong in the magical world, and that is solely belonged to her, not something that they could share with her. Even when sending letters or packages, Charlotte had to rely on Lily Evans, and her family to send on letters through Muggle post to contact her parents. She allowed her father to kiss her cheek, and her mother to give her a tight hug, before separating. With promises to write, and last goodbyes, Charlotte walked through the barrier between Platforms nine and ten, entering the Wizarding world.
Xxx
Lily Evans stood under the large, black clock that was attached to one of the pillars on Platform 9¾, waiting for her friend Charlotte Lawrence. Lily had shared a dormitory with Charlotte for the past five years, and had found her fellow muggle-born a strange girl at first. Charlotte had been the type to leave things last minute, and had almost always been late to her classes, this caused Lily to think the girl was off in a sense. Complete opposites, Lily had tried to ignore Charlotte as much as possible, that was, until Charlotte had defended Severus Snape when Potter and his band of idiots had tried to curse him in their second year. It was then that Lily saw a different side to the athletic girl, who would get up at five every morning, and run until breakfast, when she would only grab an apple and try to add in some extra practice for Qudditch. Although she never joined the Gryffindor team.
She saw Charlotte ten minutes before they were supposed to board the train. She was on her own again, carrying what appeared to be a broom-stick, and dragging her heavy trunk behind her. Like always, Lily noted, Charlotte wore her hair up in a high pony-tail, and out of her large, spring-green eyes. Her tanned skin was shown with sweat due to the weight of the trunk, and her cheeks were flushed pink. Charlotte grinned when she saw Lily, who smiled back, and waved both her hands happily. Jumping up and down to catch Charlotte's attention. Charlotte, after what seemed like too long, managed to drag her trunk towards Lily, and let go of the handle, only to swap the broomstick hands, and take hold of the trunk again.
"Hey," Charlotte breathed out, tired out by the weight of her trunk, and spending time with her parents. Lily jumped from foot-to-foot, and kept on grinning like she had gone mad. Charlotte nodded towards the train and began to walk, but still fixed Lily with a curious stare that reminded the red-head too much of Mrs Lawrence, who she had only met on the odd occasion. "Are you sick or something, Lil? You seem...fidgety." Charlotte put forward, Lily realising that the girl in front of her was truly worried. Lily, blew off this worry, and still smiled as she skipped along beside Charlotte. The two girls could not look more different, Lily found as Charlotte walked at a leisurely pace, despite the weight of her trunk, and Lily who was skipping her skirt flying around her as she went.
"Oh, Lottie!" Lily giggled, using the nickname that Charlotte preferred over 'Charlie' the name that reminded Charlotte too much of her parents. Lily took Charlotte's broomstick for her as the neared the train, so that Charlotte could get her trunk up no problem. Lily was still beaming as Charlotte wondered around so she had her back to the train. "I have some amazing news I've wanted to tell you, ever since you sent me that letter saying that you were going to try out for Qudditch, which is amazing! I know I've told you already but-"
"Lily," Charlotte huffed as she began to drag the heavy trunk up onto the train. It had always surprised Lily how she had always managed to do these things, like heavy lifting, with ease. "I don't mean to be rude, but what has got you so excited. Not shagging Potter, are you? I've seen a lot of girls this excited after and well...let's just say you've taken your time." Lily narrowed her eyes at Charlotte annoyed.
"Of course, that's not what it is! Okay," she boarded the train just as Charlotte managed to hull her trunk up onto the carpeted floor. "I'm a Prefect!" It had seemed impossible for Lily to hold it in any longer, Charlotte seemed puzzled for a moment, 'prefect' wasn't exactly something Charlotte had always pictured as a good thing, and Lily knew this. It wasn't that Charlotte was an overly disruptive girl, in fact, she was quite the opposite. But it had always been Prefects that had jumped down Charlotte's throat for just small and simple things. Things Charlotte hated to explain was part of her routine. Lily nibbled her bottom lip, unsure whether her friend was going to be over-excited, or make fun of her. Instead, Charlotte let go of her trunk, and wrapped her arms around Lily, and giving her a quick squeeze.
"Congrats, Lily. So, does this mean you're going to be keeping more of an eye on me?" She asked, Lily nudged Charlotte with her elbow. Rolling her green eyes, she lead Charlotte to an empty compartment, and to help her put her trunk up in the rack above one of the carpeted seats.
Xxx
Sirius Black took his seat beside James Potter, grumbling about something that neither James or Peter could really hear. James looked at him, running a hand through his already untidy hair. His hazel eyes shown inquisitively.
"What was that, Padfoot?" James questioned, propping his feet up beside Peter Pettigrew, moving his feet from side-to-side, admiring his new shoes.
"Just, Moony, mate." Sirius muttered, glancing out the window, and puffing out a cheek. "I mean, one of us, a Prefect! Is Dumbledore finally gone mad?" Sirius turned to both James and Peter, his eyebrows creased together, his fair brushing lightly against his cheeks. "I can't be the only one that bloody well thinks it!" James looked at Sirius for a couple of moments, almost as if he was considering what Sirius had said, before laughing loudly, Peter following along with a nervous titter.
"Dumbledore has always been mad, Padfoot. Besides, I think you're over-thinking it, Dumbledore has probably just but old Moony in-charge thinking we'd listen to the git. Obviously, he'll be wrong and laugh all the same." James rubbed it off, and then, with a look of serious air, took a deeper breath he looked to both Peter and Sirius with a challenging look. "Being serious, Qudditch Practice." It took a minute before both Peter and Sirius let out a sigh.
"Bloody Hell, Prongs." Sirius said in a tone of relief. "Thought you were going up Evans."
"Speaking of Evans," James muttered as he caught sight of the red-headed girl hurrying past the compartment window with a brunette by her side, well-built and carrying a broomstick.
(A/N: Just a quick little comment at the bottom [which I don't add often so please don't worry]. I'm extremely sorry that I've not done much speech for Peter, and we haven't met Snape of Remus yet, but I promise that in the next chapter, they will make their appearance. So don't shout at me!)
