I don't own Harry Potter, but I do own Charlotte Malcolm and any OC that happens to make an appearance in this story.
This is actually a rewrite of a story I had written a couple years ago, and I'm changing a LOT, so it's almost like a whole new story but with the same characters? So different love interest and different...everything... but it doesn't matter because no one has ever read the other story so there is no confusion! Okay! On to the story!
"Dad, are you sure you want me to go back to school this year?" I watched as my dad went through everything in my trunk, a pain in the arse habit that he's done since first year. His glasses had slid down to the tip of his nose, but he didn't notice them as all of my clothes, books, and stationary floated around the room only to be put back into the worn trunk they had just left. He muttered under his breath, so quiet I couldn't hear him, lost in his task. I sighed and looked out the window, watching my younger brother Joshua kick a Quaffle around like it was a football with our dog Gemma, a huge black lab. I smiled fondly as he kicked it into the ugly begonia bushes by the porch steps and looked around guiltily before gingerly picking it up and moving to another portion of the backyard to play. The afternoon sunshine made his dark, curly hair seem to glow as it bounced against his forehead.
I turned away from my window as I heard the sound of my trunk closing to see my father looking proud of himself. He fixed his glasses and ran a hand through his thinning blond hair, looking around the room with that weird sad smile parents always get when they're about to get reminiscent and start telling stories about the time you ran naked through the house covered head to toe in pudding when you were three.
"Yes, education is everything." I nodded and nearly collapsed on my bed by the sudden onslaught of hesitation I felt. My little yellow room always felt so empty the night before I left for Hogwarts, and this year was no different. I had spent so little time in this room, my favorite place in the world, this summer that it left a small lump in my throat. The short bookshelves that lined one wall were bare, besides the shelf that held my photo albums, as was the cork board that hung over my bed. The posters that usually graced my walls were rolled tightly and placed inside a compartment of my trunk, probably alphabetized by subject (thanks Dad). My small desk looked clean for once and the woven rug that my dad made when I was ten was looking sad and threadbare. My lace curtains fluttered in the summer breeze, bringing with it the smell of the begonias Joshua had ruined earlier. Josh.
"What about Josh? He-" My dad laughed as he sat on the bed next to me, leaning back on his hands. His brown eyes looked into my own, that same sad smile on his face. We looked so much a like I could be his clone if I wasn't, well, a girl. My dad always reminded me of a sunflower, with his blond hair and his bright brown eyes. We both had slim faces and straight noses with high cheekbones, except mine were splattered with freckles. My dad would play connect the dots on my face when I was feeling sad when I was younger, and I could tell he was doing it right now as his eyes roamed my face. He grinned at me.
"Charlotte, as much as you may believe so, you are not his mother. I do know my fair share about raising kids." I tried to smile at his earnestness, but I couldn't find the heart. I was mortified as my bottom lip started to wobble. I was overcome with homesickness, and I hadn't even left yet. He sighed and wrapped his arms around me as I tried to blink the tears away. "What's going on, baby?" He asked, running a hand through my blonde hair.
I didn't answer, just hugged him closer to me. I wasn't going to tell him that I had been secretly reading the Daily Prophet he kept throwing out.
I couldn't tell him that I was scared to leave because I wasn't sure I would have anything to come back to.
I couldn't tell him that I was scared for him. For Josh. For myself.
"I think I'm just feeling emotional because this is the last year I'll have Hogwarts all to myself before Josh comes and wreaks his havoc." I pulled back and wiped my eyes as we both laughed. My dad let his arms fall away and he pushed himself off the bed.
"Well, I think I'm going to go start on dinner. How about we eat in the backyard? An old fashioned Malcolm picnic?" I nodded enthusiastically, trying to reassure him that I was fine, and he shot me a thumbs up before leaving the room. I sighed as I fell back against my pillows and and stared at the crown molding. My mind was reeling with doubts of the upcoming year. I thought over my fifth year, the back of my left hand stinging as I thought about that horrid witch Umbridge. Hogwarts had been through so much, will it go back to normal? Who would be teaching DADA this year? Were we going to continue Dumbledore's army?
Meow. I looked over at the door to see my cat, Merlin, rubbing herself against the doorjamb. She was all black with big green eyes, a joke from my dad when I got my Hogwarts letter. Every witch has to have a black cat.
"Merlin, come here girl." She lazily made her way to my bed, where she jumped up and made herself comfy on my stomach and stayed there until the sun went down and dusk settled over Exeter.
"Charlotte! Dinner's ready!" My dad called up the stairs. Merlin jumped off the bed to go hide as I rolled out of bed and made my way to the kitchen just in time to see my dad wave his wand and bowls of potato and pasta salad float out the door, followed by a plate of elaborate ham and turkey sandwiches, along with a jug of pumpkin juice. I grabbed plates, cups, silverware, and napkins and made my way to the old elm tree that shadowed the back yard. We lived right on the outskirts of town, and I could hear the chimes of the bells of the cathedral in the distance.
Josh was already sitting cross-legged on an old quilt, leaning against Gemma, talking animatedly as my dad made sure that the bowls and platter of sandwiches made it safely to the ground. Once the food was safe, dad waved his wand and with a quick charm several little balls of light shot out of the end of his wand and bounced softly in the air around our heads.
"Charlie! Dad said that we're going to go see a Holyhead Harpies match during the hols! Right Dad? Riiiight?" My dad ruffled his hair and winked at me. Gemma barked at the action.
"That's only if Charlotte gets good grades for the term." Josh looked up at me sharply, his baby blue eyes narrowed behind his glasses, and I laughed as I handed plates and forks out. We kept conversation light: Quidditch, the classes I was taking this year, how excited Josh was for Hogwarts next year, and whether dad's Great Aunt Greta would die anytime soon. She was almost 90 years old and could barely see, but she had ears like a bat. Every Christmas she wore every single piece of jewelry she owned. Once when I was six or seven I asked her why she did that and she said that she thought it distracted from her wrinkles. She was a good time, Great Aunt Greta. Dad was a muggleborn, and because they obviously couldn't know about Hogwarts, we moved to Exeter when I was ten so we had the excuse of being too far away to come visit all the time.
After it had gotten dark enough that even with the bright orbs flouncing around our heads we could barely see each other, we packed everything up and went inside. I watched my brother and my dad race to set up a game of wizard's chess as I did the dishes, per usual.
After the kitchen was cleaned up and the leftovers safely in the fridge, I walked into the kitchen to see both of them staring intently at the board, hands folded under their chins and glasses slid down to the end of their noses. The chess pieces were yelling instructions at them, but neither were listening.
"I'm heading up to bed, don't stay up to late okay? Guys?" They waved their hands at me, but I received no other response. I kissed their heads and rolled my eyes before heading for a quick shower and a good night's rest before heading back to school for my sixth year.
