A/N: Hey all! These drabbles will not make any sense unless you've read my other story, Forbidden Green and Scarlett. It's a series of one-shots from Charlotte's point of view, because I love her but she's not a main enough character in FG&S to add her perspectives to the actual story, so I'm adding them here :) Enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own HP. Sadly.

Summer Days

I would rather be anywhere than here. I would rather be in Azkaban than here.

I leaned on the counter of the restaurant where I was forced to work and put my head in my hands.

"Reese!"

I groaned as I straightened and turned. My boss glared at me.

"There are tables that need to be cleaned! I don't pay you good money to stand around and stare at the walls!"

"You don't pay me good money period," I muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing!" I called.

"That's what I thought."

I refused to think about what Malfoy would think if she knew where I was. Instead I continued my train of thought about Azkaban as I wiped the tables down. I was nearly positive it would be preferable to my current hellhole. At least the Dementors don't say anything; they just suck out all your happiness. Which I didn't have any of at the mo' anyway. I really couldn't decide which was worse: the Dementors sucking away my happiness or this job sucking away my will to live.

In the old days they used to stick menopausal women in insane asylums. I thought they had the right idea. Although really, my mum belonged in an asylum even before she was menopausal...

"How was work?" Mum asked as I helped herself to a large piece of chocolate cake from the fridge.

"Hell," I replied, taking a big bite.

Mum's eyes filled with tears. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

I rolled my eyes. "It's nothing to cry over, Mum."

She sniffed and wiped the tears from her eyes. "I know, I know," she sighed, wiping her eyes again. "I'm just sorry you have to work somewhere you hate so much."

"I think I have homework," I muttered, taking my cake with me as I headed to my room.

I legitimately did have homework. That was the downside to having the same teachers every year. McGonagall and Flitwick liked to lay on the summer homework pretty thick. I sighed as I dug through my trunk with one hand, careful not to get any icing on my things.

I had just dug out my Transfiguration parchment when there was a loud knock on my door and I jumped, dumping my cake into my trunk.

"Fuck!" I cried, hurrying to pick it up. I wasn't fast enough. The icing had transferred to my school robes and my half-finished Charms essay. "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"Language, Charlotte."

I rolled my eyes as I glared over my shoulder at my older sister. "What do you want?" I demanded as I put the cake on the floor and pulled out my robes and parchment.

"Why is Mum crying?" Emmeline demanded. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" I cried defensively. "I just told her that I didn't enjoy work!"

"Why would you that?" Emmeline asked rudely. "You know she cries at everything!"

"Get out, Emmeline," I sighed.

My sister obeyed with a huff and I went back to my cake and Transfiguration with a sigh. Now the robes would have to be washed again. September could not come fast enough.