Choices are a funny thing.

Some choices are really important. Like choosing which N.E.W.T. classes to take. That's important - it can determine your entire career. Other choices are rather insignificant, such as which marmalade you're going to spread on your toast. You're hardly going to make a pros and cons list for cherry versus orange spread, right?

Now, there are some other choices that maybe seemed huge when you made them, but actually turned out to be insignificant. Like, how to do your hair on the first day of school. I remember wanting to make a good impression on the professors. Turned out, teachers care more about performance than appearance, and thank goodness for that for little eleven-year-old me.

And then there's that tricky kind of choice, the one that seemed like nothing at the time, but wasn't. You didn't even think about it or even realize the consequences, or that it even had consequences. It was just like deciding between cherry or orange marmalade. And yet it was that choice, that decision, that changed your entire life.

As I sit in my room pondering how I got to be who am I today, I can't help but think that that's exactly what happened to me. I used to think, 'how did I become to be this kind of person?' or 'how did I get here?' And sure, there are definite things that happened to me that propelled me, but I think where it really began for me was Easter break of last year.

The little choice I made that seemed like nothing was staying at Hogwarts over Easter break in my sixth year. I just wanted to study. I had no idea of what the results of not going home would be. See, if I had gone home, I would have received my cousin's wedding invitation in person. I would have sent in my RSVP, not my mother. So my mother wouldn't have had the opportunity to check the box for my plus-one without my knowledge. Then the whole wedding wouldn't have been a not-so blind date for me and my plus-one. I probably wouldn't have stormed out of the reception in a huff. And if I hadn't left, I wouldn't have crossed paths with … well, you know the rest.

What you don't know, however, is my story from my perspective. I leave for London in a few days and I want to write it all down, about what really happened. Then one day when I'm dead and buried (I dearly hope that day is far, but chances are it might be soon), someone will find this and know the truth. Then the facts can be set straight.

All this nonsense about me being a hero is crap. Just because I've been through hell and back doesn't make me a hero. I'm not a hero; I'm a survivor.

Charlotte A. Ward

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It was awkward sitting at the dinner table alone. Obviously I wasn't sitting alone alone; I was in between a group of fourth years and some shrilly second years. I actually didn't mind sitting alone, but even I couldn't deny the awkward feeling that eventually crept up into me after a while. Especially when everyone else had someone to sit with and talk to.

Normally I would have sat with Kitty, but she was a little bit busy at the Ravenclaw table catching up with Brian Webber, her boyfriend. Was I a little bit peeved that she chose to sit with him and not me after not seeing each other for a week? Maybe a little. They had only been dating for two months, whereas I'd been friends with Kitty since second year.

I set my silverware down, trying not to be ticked. Kitty had always been like this with boys, living love to the fullest. While I didn't condone her behavior, it wasn't unexpected. Leaving my food half-eaten, I stood up and hoisted my book bag over my shoulder in one fluid motion. I could catch up with Kitty later in the dorm.

Just as I passed the threshold to the Great Hall, I heard someone call out my name. I turned and saw my brother walking over to me with a small, wooden chest in his hands.

"Charlotte, hold on a sec," he said, shuffling up to me.

"Have a good holiday, Cole?" I asked, giving him a small smile.

"Yeah, it was a bit somber without you," he said seriously.

"Excuse me," I said, putting my hands on my hips. "Between the two of us, you're clearly the trouble maker of our family!"

Cole tried to look innocent. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, let's see." I hold out my fingers, counting them as I speak. "Firecrackers last Christmas - while everyone was sleeping! And the Christmas before that you put goldfish in all the toilet bowls at Grandma's house."

"Oho, I forgot about the goldfish! That was a classic!"

"It wasn't funny when Uncle Randall got food poisoning and his diahrea wouldn't flush because of your stupid goldfish!"

"Nope, definitely was hilarious."

I sighed and shook my head in mock disappointment while Cole just laughed. I wasn't really disappointed in him. The goldfish idea had actually been quite funny, albeit gross.

"But seriously," continued Cole. "Mom and Dad missed you."

I gave him a half-hearted smile. "Well, I wanted to do some serious studying."

"Yeah, well." He looked briefly at his shoes before looking up at me again. Something about the tone of his voice made me feel guilty about staying at Hogwarts this Easter break. "Anyway. I've been carrying this," he gestured to the chest in his hands, "for ages. Mom wanted me to give it to you."

"What's in it?" I asked, eyeing the chest curiously.

He shrugged. "Dunno. Are you going to take it?" I reached over and grabbed it from him. "See ya!" And with that, he turned and returned to the Gryffindor table to sit with his fellow third years.

"Thanks," I muttered after him.

I took a closer look at the chest. It was quite lovely, on par with my mother's usual standards. It was probably made out of cherry wood, and a dark one at that. The clasp and lock, as well as the bolts, were gold, or at least painted gold. I also noticed that there was no key. Cole probably forgot. I quick took out my wand and muttered, alohomora. There was a satisfying click, unlocking the chest. I relocked the chest. I would open it in my dorm.

A chorus of bubbling laughter made me look up. A group of seventh-years were exiting the Great Hall. I stepped to the side to let them pass. As they walked by, though, one of them called to me.

"Hey there, Charlotte!" greeted the tallest of the girls.

"Dominique," I said with a smile that wasn't forced. "Long time no see."

"I haven't seen you in ages! Where've you been?" Dominique had stopped where I was, but her friends had continued on a few more steps.

"Oh, you know…" Real smooth.

Thankfully, Dominique just kept on smiling. "I told you - call me Dom."

"Sure thing, Dominique," I answered. Last year, I had a little mishap with a pair of drunks outside of Three Broomsticks. Dominique kindly helped me out. Since then, I wouldn't say that we were exactly friends. But she did say hello in the corridors, sometimes. Which I supposed was nice.

"Dom, let's go!" One of her friends called out.

Dom flashed me a brilliant smile. I didn't know a person to have such white and straight teeth. "I guess I'll see you later, Char!" And with that, she spun on her heels and joined her friends.

Once her back was turned, one of her friends gave me a gross look. They probably didn't know who I was or why Dominique bother to stop and say hi. Heck, I even wondered why.

I watched them go until they were out of sight. Then I followed them down the same corridor. About half of those girls were in Gryffindor like me. You know when you and another person said goodbye, but when you both turned to leave, it's in the same direction? That's the situation I wanted to avoid. I was incredibly talented at turning normal situations into awkward ones.

I was the first one of the Gryffindor sixth-year girls back to the dorm. I threw down my bag, tossed off my shoes, and hopped onto my four poster bed. I sat criss-crossed, setting the chest down in front of me. For the second time tonight, I used alohomora to unlock the chest.

Inside were several items. On top were two letters, both addressed to me. The first one I recognized the hand writing as my mother's; the second's hand writing was elegant and unfamiliar to me. I opened the one from my mother first:

Dear Charlotte,

We missed you this Easter. It was the first Easter without you and everyone really missed you.

Guess what? We almost had a security leak with your grandmother during Easter supper! She of course wondered where you were, and we told them you decided to stay at school to study. She never heard of a school that students could stay at over the Easter holidays. Obviously we couldn't tell her about Hogwarts, the family being muggles and all. It was almost a total disaster! Your father and I were spluttering to make an excuse. By then all your aunts, uncles, cousins, and your great-aunt Dorothy were listening. Colton saved the day by letting out a huge, disgusting belch. While I'm ashamed of his methods, he certainly took the attention off of you! Grandma Ward was furious though. Especially when the children started replicating Colton.

I smiled at the thought of Colton belching at the formal Ward Easter dinner. My grandmother would certainly have been furious. I could just imagine how some spittal would spittle would fly in Colton's general direction.

Inside this chest (I hope you like it) there's another letter. You'll recall that your cousin Rebecca got engaged last month? They sent out the invitations two weeks ago actually. I've taken the liberty to send in your RSVP; I hope that's alright.

I also sent you some gold as well as some quid. Buy yourself a reward for doing so well this year!

I looked in the chest, and in a purple velvet bag were about twenty or so galleons and one-hundred quid. I shook my head. I had at least that much left over from Christmas, but that was my parents for you. With a father the head of Human Resources at Lloyds Banking and a mother who loved giving, this was the result. I looked back at the letter.

Keep up the good work! We can't wait to see you in June!

Love you!

Mum

P.S. Can you keep an eye on Colton? I think he might have a girlfriend, but I'm no sure…

I snorted at that last comment. Knowing Cole, he probably did have a girlfriend. Or at least several girls that wanted to be his girlfriend. Cole had no bounds when it came to his social life. I had a working theory that my mother's womb forgot to give me the social skills gene, and when Cole was being manufactured, the womb gave him the normal dose plus the dose it forgot to give to me. My logic skills are flawless.

I set down my mother's letter and picked up the second envelope. I paused to appreciate the elegant loops and curves of the calligraphy before ripping the envelope open. The invitation was white with gray and periwinkle blue accents.

The honor of your presence

is requested at the marriage of

Rebecca

Moraine

Joseph

Abbey

12 July

I stopped reading after I saw the date. I bit my lip. My friend Ralph had invited me to visit him over the summer. His mother lives in Cornwall, but his father lives in Friesland, in the Netherlands. The divorce settlement has him with his father in July and with his mother in June and August. Specifically, Ralph invited me to stay for the 10th-16th of July.

I picked my mother's letter back up and frowned. It was in my last letter, the one I sent home with Cole, that I asked my parents if I could go and visit Ralph. I scanned through her letter again, just to make sure. She hadn't said anything regarding Ralph. Knowing my mother, however, the lack of an answer plus the invitation was probably her answer. Whenever I mentioned Ralph's name at home, mother would purse her lips and change the topic. It didn't help that all last summer Cole referred to Ralph as my boyfriend. Because he wasn't. Ralph was just a friend.

I set aside both letters and the velvet bag to pick up the last items in the chest. Carefully folded were the previous two weeks' copy of The Economist and last Thursday's edition of the Times. I smiled fondly at them. Though there was no note, these were from my dad.

Most other muggle borns enrolled at Hogwarts seemed to put aside their muggle heritage without a backwards glance. Perhaps they hung onto their favorite book or music. Maybe they caught up on films and TV programs over break. My parents, however, refused to let things slide. During summer breaks I was tutored in algebra, biology, history, and Latin. This didn't work out so well with Cole, as he prefered racing around on his broomstick. Nevertheless, I didn't want to lose my muggle heritage. Hence the newspapers.

I was about to open The Economist when I heard several pairs of footsteps coming up the stairs. I almost growled in frustration, knowing my peace was about to be destroyed. I quickly shoved the letters and velvet bag in the chest. Nonverbally I cast pulvino, a cushioning spell, and colloportus ustulo on the chest, which locked it with a little something extra.

The door burst open and four girls strolled in chattering like seagulls: Delta Asher, Elizabeth Banks, Ivy Cox, and Alexandra Day. Kitty had dubbed them the 'ABCD' girls, based on their surnames. I thought it was hilarious, but when Kitty let it slip one day last year, they vanished their hair. Incidentally, a few hours later, Delta had a shocking case of boils mysteriously break out around her unmentionables. Poor girl thought she had contracted STDs. They never did catch the culprit.

The ABCDs ignored me for a few minutes as they gobbled on about Ivy's new lipstick. They fussed in front of the mirror, peering at themselves from every which angle. I tried to read the first article in The Economist (debating the ethics of the sanctions on Qatar), but their shrill laughter was distracting. With a sigh a put the two reads on my nightstand. The papers would have to wait until tomorrow, as would my letter to my parents regarding Ralph. With my options being either escape or sleep, I decided on sleep. It was getting to be that time anyways. As I gathered my pajamas, Elizabeth walked over to my bed.

"Hello, Charlotte," she said warmly, leaning against one of my bedposts.

"Hey," I greeted, not unkindly.

"How was your holiday?" she asked. The other three girls simmered down in volume.

I shrugged. "Pretty good. I stayed here."

Elizabeth cocked her head. "Really? Whatever for?"

"I just wanted to study," I said simply. I threw my pajamas on my bed and shut my trunk.

"Don't you normally have the library to yourself anyways?" sneered Ivy from across the dorm.

"No," Delta squealed. "That Ryan kid is always with her!"

"His name is Ralph," I said flatly, glaring at Delta.

"What-ever," she giggled and flipped her long black hair. I rolled my eyes.

"What do you got there?" asked Alex, her eyes fixed on the chest.

"Oh, I just got that. From my mum."

Alex nodded slowly, still looking at the chest.

I let them be and shuffled into our bathroom. I prefered night showers. Besides, it was just way too much work to fight for space in the morning with those four and Kitty.

I showered and brushed my teeth quickly. It was as I combed my hair I heard a shriek of pain and several gasps. I threw down my comb, picked up my wand, and rushed out of the bathroom. I narrowed my eyes at the sight I saw.

Alex was clutching her hand to her body and rocking back and forth. Elizabeth was trying to look at Alex's hand. Delta and Ivy were prodding my chest, which was now on the floor.

I nonverbally levitated my chest back to sitting on my bed. Ivy stepped back, but Delta took a step towards me.

"What did you do that for?" Delta rounded on me.

"Do what?" I shot back.

"You hurt Alex!" Delta pointed her finger at me. Behind her, Ivy scowled.

"Did I?" I asked innocently.

"The hell you did!"

I shrugged. "Did I know she's pick up my stuff and try to get into it? No. But would it be the first time she's gone through my stuff? Or the second? Or the third? Or the -"

"You can't just spell your stuff so it hexes us!" Delta interrupted.

"Well maybe she shouldn't touch my stuff. It wouldn't have shocked her if she hadn't tried to unlock it," I explained, desperately trying to not raise my voice. I wasn't afraid of a fight, but I didn't exactly seek them out either. "The chest could have been picked up and not shocked anyone. It's only when you try to unlock it without the right spell does it shock the thief."

"Thief?" Alex squeaked. "I just wanted to look."

"Then why, pray tell, didn't you just ask?" I said with a flat voice.

"Because you would have said no."

"Which is well within my right because it's my stuff." I said finally. I went back into the bathroom and gathered my things. Emerging I ignored their glares and indignant looks. It served them right, the spell did. And it wasn't a strong shock anyway; just enough to make the person surprised and drop the chest.

I held my head high as I walked to my bed. In doing so, I didn't see Delta stick out her foot. I fell down with an oomph. My face flushed pink as the room erupted into giggles.

"Bitch," spat Delta from above.

Nothing wanting to give them any satisfaction, I ignored them, furious though as I was. I hung my robes in my dresser and crawled into bed. With as much dignity as I could muster, I pulled my curtains around my bed and laid down. It was hard to fall asleep with all the giggles.

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"She called you a what?!" Kitty exclaimed the next morning.

"Shh!" I hushed her, glancing around the breakfast table.

"Did she really call you that?" she hissed, leaning over her plate. I nodded. "I can't believe her! Was Elizabeth there?" I nodded again. "She's a prefect! My word!"

"Kitty, it's fine," I said as I buttered my toast. "All in all, it was pretty funny."

"Not them tripping you, though."

"Well, it wasn't funny to me, but-"

"Ugh!" Kitty slammed down her fist. "They're such - they're so-"

"Yeah, I know," I agreed.

Kitty shook her head. Then she said: "Was that shock spell a new one?"

"Oh, yeah," I said. "I came up with it over break. I was so tired of Alex snooping through our stuff."

"Can you teach me it? I haven't bought pink underwear in two freakin' years because she always takes it!" Kitty waved her fork around in the air as she spoke. "I mean, come on? Who steals underwear, just in general? But then who steals selective pink underwear? Who does that?"

I snort. "She's an odd one, she is. But, yeah, of course I'll teach the spell to you. I can't believe I didn't think of something like this sooner."

"Anyway, enough about the ABCDs," said Kitty, waving her fork in the air as if trying to clear the air.

"How was your holiday?" I asked.

"It was fine," Kitty said with a shrug. "Mum's business has a new line of hair curlers. I brought some for us."

"Oh, nice," I said. Kitty's mother owned a salon in Diagon Alley.

"How was Hogwarts?" Kitty asked.

"Great, actually," I answered. "I did some exploring. Had tea with Hagrid."

"Right, and how many spells did you invent?"

"Ha. Ha."

"Knowing you, you probably invented ten in first day," joked Kitty.

I gave her a deadpan look before saying, "Other than the shock-lock spell, I managed to finish one that I've been working on; I'll show it to you later. It's kind of a defense-ish spell?"

"Oho, I'm curious," Kitty humored me, but I knew she was interested.

"The other one I've been working on… I just can't seem to get it."

"I'm sure you will," Kitty assured me. "You always do."

"Maybe," I replied sheepishly.

"Hey, um, how long is your Charms essay?" Kitty asked, changing the subject.

"Seventeen inches," I replied. "Why? How long is yours?"

"It's…" Kitty opened her bag and sifted through the contents. "Oh drat! I forgot it upstairs!"

"You better run and get it," I said, glancing at my watch. We had Double Charms first thing, but there was still time.

Kitty stood up and booked it across the Hall, yelling, "Save me some toast!"

I cringed at the people who gave her odd looks but laughed regardless. With a few minutes to myself, I pulled out the newspapers my dad sent me. The Times had shorter articles, so I began with that one.

I almost choked on my juice as I read the front page headline: "Terrorist Attack in the Heart of London". What in the world. What was going on in the muggle world? I quick glanced around the Great Hall, but the atmosphere was normal. The staffs' table also seemed unperturbed. More alarming, Cole hadn't said anything to me last night about the attack. Did people not realize? Did they not know? Or did they just not care?

Shocked and morbidly curious, my eyes poured over the article, drinking in the words as fast as I could. Some lunatic placed a bomb in some rubbish bins outside a primary school. Two children were dead and four injured. The coppers hadn't caught the man, or woman, who carried out the deed.

"Charlotte!"

My body jumped. My mind was still in the article. I jerked my head up as Kitty ran over to me. I blinked up at her, momentarily disoriented.

"Charlotte, what are you doing? We're going to be late!"

I looked back down at the article, then back up at Kitty. "Kitty, there was a bomb-"

"Charlotte, let's go!" Kitty interrupted me. She gave my robes a tug.

I eventually let out a sigh. "Yes. Right. Class." Somehow class seemed far away. There had been a bombing. But it wasn't like missing class to dwell on that fact was going to help anyone, was it? I grabbed my bag, downed the rest of my orange juice, and together with Kitty, raced to class.