AN: This is the prelude to Caught in the Rain, I will be posting parts of it here and there until it's finished. Something you should know is that this story will have three parts to it. Part one is: Years at Hogwarts. This chapter is the first start of this part. There will be three years in that part. I will try to make it as short as I can. Part two is: Years with Chris and that will have about three years to it.. three or four. The third part will be: Years in Egypt and that part will work up to around the point of the prologue in caught in the rain. I will try my hardest to make each part as short as I can, but I am not promising anything. Do enjoy though. This is the story behind our lovely characters in CITR. Hope you enjoy it.

Chapter One:

A young girl, not very large in size, was sitting by herself in some random compartment in the middle of the train. She had boarded the train unnoticed by the much taller and older students. Right now the students that had yet to board the train were saying goodbye to their loving parents, some were shedding tears because they had never been away from home for so long. For the young girl sitting with her knees held against her chest, leaving was heaven. She had gotten a cold awakening that morning when her father had sent up one of the less respected house elves to wake her after that she was literally forced out of the house and into one of the least fancy cars to take her away, but not before she paid for something she didn't even do.

Her younger brother had decided to get pay back and say that she had broken a highly expensive Russian statue that her mother absolutely adored. She had of course tried to weasel her way out of punishment, for she hadn't even done anything, but her father took this as a chance to let out some bottled up frustration. She had watched her mother as her father picked her up and pushed her roughly against the car. It hadn't been the first time for her father to strike her, in fact her father did it quite often, but this was the first time he did it when he was outside the safety of their large unwelcoming home, if it could be called that. Her dad leaned in close enough for just her to hear and whispered to her the same words that seemed to haunt her very existence.

"You were a mistake that deserves nothing," were the words he spoke way too often. He said those words every chance he could get just to remind her that if it were up to him he wouldn't let her live. She was used to the unloving remarks by both of her parents. Her mother wasn't as bad as her father for she never hit, but her words stung just as badly.

Charlotte Malfoy was the girls name and every chance she had she would try to find a way to make herself believe that she wasn't who she thought she was. At eleven years old one should not be dreaming to die, but rather to live life to the fullest. For Charlotte nothing ever came to her the way it should. She didn't feel sorry for herself, but every day she wished for the loving family she saw others have. The type of family that would hug her and kiss her forehead when she came home, the ones that would hold her tightly if she had a nightmare, but for Charlotte her nightmare was the family she lived with.

Charlotte was a shockingly intelligent youngster, but her intelligence went to waste for she was never worth anything to the people she spent time around than a rather large, but bony punching bag. There was one thing that her father never did and that was use magic against her. He didn't think it was right to waste such a wonderful thing on a piece of shit like herself. There was one thing Charlotte did notice about her father's punishments and that was that he never hit her when he was angry with her personally. It seemed to be when he was angry with everyone. To say the least Charlotte's childhood was everything, but easy.

Charlotte scooted herself next to the window and watched the rest of the Hogwarts' students scramble about to find everything they needed. She let her eyes wonder from person to person until her eyes fell on a large group of red heads. It was one in particular, though, that she was looking at. He was obviously the oldest of them all, but no matter how hard Charlotte tried she couldn't figure out what she liked about him.

"Yeah he's a cutie." Charlotte jumped back at the sound of the voice, she scooted all the way back to where she had been and let her hair fall back in her face. "His name is William, but we all just call him Billy. He's a Weasley." Charlotte flinched at the sound of the name. "Are you okay?"

"Probably not," Charlotte barely spoke.

"I'm Aimee by the way, Aimee Traver. I'm eleven as well," Aimee told Charlotte, who was frowning at the girl who had disrupted her quiet time. "I take it you aren't much of a talker."

"I can be," she said quietly.

"What's your name?" Aimee asked as she sat down on the seat opposite as her and only then noticed that the seat was wet because the window was open. She shrugged and just stayed sitting, she was going to change after all.

"You don't want to know."

"I do, or I wouldn't have asked. I mean if you don't want to tell me then you don't have to, but I'm just trying to make small take. It's a long way to Scotland from here and I don't think you really want to sit here and be all gloom and doom."

"Who says I don't?"

"Look I am just trying to be nice."

"Charlotte," was all that came out of her mouth.

"What?"

"My name is Charlotte."

"Oh, well hullo."

"Hey," Charlotte wasn't in the mood to talk, but she figured it wouldn't hurt to talk to this girl for a little longer. Before either one of them could say much of anything else the compartment door opened again.

"Aimee do you know where my brother could have gone? I am supposed to give him something because he forgot to get it from mum." Charlotte noted it was a boy and he sounded a lot older than either one of them.

"Did you try looking for Davey?"

"Davey?" He asked.

"Yeah, Davey Brookwood. He's three compartments down to the left. Charlie was there last time I talked to him. I think it would be your best shot."

"Why aren't you with them?"

"I don't know really, something told me that this would be a good compartment." It wasn't until then that the boy standing in the doorway noticed Charlotte in the corner. She could feel his eyes on her.

"Who's she?"

"Oh, that's Charlotte. She doesn't really seem to like talking."

"I would appreciate if you two would talk to me rather than about me like I am not here. I get that enough at home, I don't need it from either of you," She said in a rather adult manner. Charlotte looked up at the boy in the doorway and stopped everything. The boy that was standing there was the same boy she had been drawn to on the platform.

"Sorry love, I didn't mean to offend you or anything. I'm Billy." Charlotte watched the tall red head smile kindly at her, his one dimple making its mark on his pale cheek.

"It's okay, I have to go for a moment, excuse me." Charlotte stood up to leave the compartment when Billy caught her arm and pulled her to him. He reached up and moved her hair from her face and looked at her forehead. Charlotte heard Aimee gasp and Billy moved uncomfortably next to her.

"That's a nasty bruise on your head, how'd it happen?"

"It doesn't matter," Charlotte once again tried to leave, but Billy never let go of her arm.

"Here," Billy pulled a small vile out of his pocket and opened it. "My mum made this, it's used to rid Charlie of his allergy, but I have an idea." Billy licked his thumb and then poured a little of the yellowish liquid on it. He looked at it for a moment before rubbing it along her bruise.

"Ouch!" Charlotte glared at the boy.

"Just hold still for a moment," Billy ran his thumb around the bruise and then dropped his hand to his side. Charlotte felt numbing move through that area and she could no longer feel the bounding of it.

"What did you do?"

"Well I took a guess that it may have worked and I am figuring that it did? If I was correct in my thoughts, that should go away in a few hours."

"How did you know how to do that?" Charlotte asked.

"I'm my mother's child, I can do anything," he smiled widely. He patted her head and let her go. Charlotte smiled for the first time in a long time at the thought of him. The last thing she heard before she left was Billy saying, "She looks sickly thin. That's not healthy, maybe I should take from my mum and help her eat too." Charlotte laughed at that, Billy, even though she didn't really know him, was the only person she knew that actually cared and that made her feel something she was sure she'd never felt before.