Chapter Six:

Charlotte sat on a bench outside a shop in London. Across the way a group of children, her age, were playing pirates. She so badly wanted to join them, but she was given her assignment and that was to wait. Besides, she knew they'd tease her, they always did. She was different and they didn't like that.

The clouds lingering over head were dark and grey. The cracked pavement was rain soaked and muddy. To a normal person the weather would be gloomy and depressing, but to the little girl, it was beautiful. The October air was whipping past her face, bringing the sent of wet grass to her nose. The young child sighed and slumped her shoulders; she was about to leave her seat when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She didn't jump or flinch at this though, but instead felt relieved. The feeling of being safe rushed through her, the type of safety only a father could provoke.

Without a word said she got up and stood next to the man, but he now seemed to have his attention on something, or rather, someone else. Without even a thought she turned towards the man the guy next to her was talking to. Though, she hadn't glanced at either man and there wasn't any cool breeze, she shivered. The nice and warm fatherly presence that once consumed her now seemed far away as she stared at the man in front of her, who was completely dressed in black.

The warm feeling she had been so glad to feel was replaced and over powered by the searing evilness of this new intruder. Although she could still feel the hand on her shoulder, it didn't do much to rid the fear and hatred for this man standing across from her. Slowly, she raised her head until their eyes met. Nothing but ice and pure hatred could be taken from the depths of his cool blue eyes, much like the storm clouds up above. However, his eyes brought no comfort to her. With one last glare at the man, she turned and stepped away from the one now before her: Lucius Malfoy.

Charlotte quickly sat up in her bed. She took a deep breath and tried to relax. Her dream had not scared her, but it had bothered her deeply. Not once had she ever had a dream such like that one and what bothered her the most was that the dream was clearly explainable and yet, not, all at the same time.

Charlotte pulled back her comforter and slid her legs over the side of the bed until her bare feet touched the cool wood floor. She stretched slightly and got out of her bed. Without glancing at the time she walked over to the bay window near the table by the door. She sat upon the cushions and opened the window. She pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them as the cool autumn breeze surrounded her, consumed her. She stared down at the grounds below and looked around.

"Charlotte?" Someone outside the door asked, while knocking lightly.

"Faye," Charlotte said and the door unlocked. "You can come in," with a 'click' the door opened and Bill came into the room, smiling.

"Hello. How are you this fine morning?" Charlotte shrugged and continued to stare out of the window. "What's eating you, love?"

"Oh, nothing," Bill walked over to sit across from her. He had pulled a small toy off of her table and continued to play with it. Charlotte laughed at him and took the little magical toy away from him; he frowned. "You act very different around me, why?"

"I'm no different around you than I am with Aimee or Bryce. Maybe my brothers, but that's because they're my brothers. Really though, I am no different to you than I am to anyone else."

"You sure?"

"Of course. Why are you still in your pajamas?"

"Just woke up," She said blankly. Bill eyed her; she was sitting with her back against the wall in a white T-shirt and green pajama pants.

"You should get dressed then," He said, eyeing the watch on his wrist.

"Why?"

He undid the watch from his wrist and tossed it to her, "Because your first class starts in less than an hour." He smiled at her and took back the watch. He put it back on his wrist and looked up at her. She was staring out of the window again. "You looked tired."

"I am tired," Charlotte smiled at his reflection in the window. He noticed this and laughed. "Do you think my students hate me?"

"Besides Draco?"

Charlotte smirked, "Yes, besides him."

"I think it's half and half really. You get on the good side of one group, you are on the bad side of another, don't worry about it. Charlotte, you sure you are okay?"

"I am peachy," her voice was distant and she was no longer paying attention to anything besides the glass of the window. Bill leaned forward to kiss her cheek, but she still didn't look up.

"I'll start class if you are late," Bill told her as she nodded, but he knew she was in her own thoughts again. It was a place she often was in, a place she was safe in. Bill decided to leave her be, she would be down soon enough.

"Bill, where's Charlotte?" Ron asked from his seat in the front, next to Harry.

"She'll be down shortly… Keep reading," Bill looked down at his watch and then at the door. He must have had good timing because just then she pushed open the door and walked to her desk. She took off her robes and set them across her desk. She was now left in black corduroy pants and deep red button up shirt. "Everyone stand up and move to the back of the room now. If I am correct you should have been reading, am I right?" Her class nodded, but no one said anything. "Good, then we shouldn't have a problem today. Back of the room!" The students slowly made it to the back of the room and waited. They were a bit confused as to what they were doing, but Hermione seemed somewhat excited.

Just as they were about to ask Charlotte what was going on the desks all moved to the sides of the room, "Okay, come forth. I need you all to get with a partner." She watched closely as her students paired off into groups of two. Her class was thus divided Slytherins with Slytherins and Gryffindors with other Gryffindors. Charlotte frowned at this, but did nothing; she'd get on their case about it some other time. "It seems you all have partners. Now last week I asked you all to read chapter five, so, Ron what's the use of non-verbal spells?"

"To not say spells out loud?" Ron looked at Harry, an uncomfortable -expression written on his face. He obviously didn't know the answer.

"Ron did I not just say you had a complete week to read the whole chapter? It was only thirteen pages! Now tell me, what were you doing instead of reading the chapter?"

"I did read," Ron answered back Charlotte looked at him, knowing very well he hadn't.

"Want to lie to me again, Mr. Weasley? Now tell me, what were you doing instead?"

"I had…had a potions essay to write."

"That took you a full week? I know Professor Snape can be unfair and out right mean, but I am sure you could have finished his essay in less than a week." The class sniggered at Ron's misfortune of catching their professor at a less than happy time.

"We had other homework as well," Harry said for Ron.

"I didn't ask you Harry; and Draco if you turn around one more time I will make sure you can never turn your head again!" She looked over at Draco, who was now standing straight, glaring at her. Charlotte smirked and looked back at Ron. "Well, Mr. Weasley, as much as I hate to do this, I am going to have to deduct five points from Gryffindor for you inability to finish your assignment. Miss Granger, if you please?" Hermione smiled and gladly gave the right answer.

"Know-it-all…" Draco muttered under his breath.

"Five points from Slytherin!"

"What?"

"Learn to hold your tongue next time, or I'll teach you how to," Charlotte said sternly. "I will have none of that in my classroom," with that Charlotte assigned each group spells and constructed them to work on doing them non-verbally. Of course, to no surprise, Hermione was the first and only one to be able to do a non-verbal spell perfectly. She was very proud of herself, but spared Neville some humiliation by taking the leg-locker curse off just as soon as it had worked. Ron groaned from the front of the room and looked over at Harry.

"She gets everything her first shot at it." Harry shrugged, as well as Ron, and went back to trying to make his assigned non-verbal spell to work before the end of the class period.

When the bell sounded, signaling the next class was approaching, every student gladly gathered their belongings and left quickly in order to escape the professor's horrible mood. She had yelled at them countless times during the class period and even called the students "incapable" of having any intelligent thoughts, what so ever. She had put Neville on the spot at least twice during the class and both times he had looked like he was about to cry. She had not been easy on the poor boy and then ten minutes before the bell rang she had picked a fight with Draco. It had gotten to the point where Draco had pulled his wand out on Charlotte (a very stupid move on his part) for she had pulled her own wand on him just as quickly and then proceeded to spout out two spells in one breath. One to disarm him and then another to immobilize him.

By the time the Gryffindors realized what had happened and had begun to laugh, Bill had already stepped in. In which time, he had, surprisingly, gotten Charlotte into her desk seat and Draco back to his normal state. He had also given Draco his back wand and a nice big detention for pulling his wand on a teacher. To say the least, the Gryffindors found the whole ordeal quite amusing. But, despite how amusing the scene displayed before them was none of the students dared to stay behind. That is, all, but one.

"What in Merlin's name were you doing?" Bill asked the girl in the chair. Charlotte didn't seem to care in the slightest and knowing her, she most likely didn't. "Do you want to be fired?" Charlotte rolled her eyes at the worried adult and leaned back in her seat.

"Of course not. Bill, I don't know if you noticed, but Draco pulled his wand on me – not the other way around," Charlotte sat up and looked up at the red haired boy.

"I'd be lying if I said you didn't ask for it," Charlotte laughed.

"Trying to be mean, Billy?"

"No, but I am trying to be truthful and you were pushing those kids past the line," Bill told her. He was getting into the strict fatherly figure mode again and it was not one that suited such a fun loving charismatic boy like him. It was then that both of them noticed Harry standing in front of the desk.

"Hey, Harry. What's up?" Charlotte smiled at him. Harry tried to shake the sudden sense of familiarity, but it just wouldn't leave him.

"I was wondering…" Harry paused. "Well I want to see what else is in that room and I was wondering if you could show me."

"Harry, I wouldn't have showed you that room if I hadn't wanted to help you."

"Another question, can we go tonight? Quidditch starts tomorrow."

"Of course, you can either meet me here or there after dinner," Charlotte asked as she gathered some papers together.

"I'll come here," Harry said his good byes and put his pack over his left shoulder.

"See you later, Harry."

"Wow, you are in a better mood," Bill smiled. Charlotte simply laughed at him and rolled her eyes before getting up.

"You're lame, Bill."

Charlotte walked up the moving staircase to the fourth floor and pulled out her wand. She walked with stride to her classroom and unlocked the door with her wand before walking in. It was twenty minutes before dinner would end, but she had excused herself, having already finished her dinner. She had discarded her robes off in her chambers earlier so now she was wearing the fancy clothing that had been underneath them since earlier. She walked up to her office and pulled the back her pack over her shoulder. She set in safely on her desk. She waited for Harry by correcting all the papers she had left from the younger years. She had just finished correcting the last bit of assignments when her heard started to throb, flashes of bodies on the ground, all in the colour red played through her mind.

"Professor?" Harry asked, worriedly. Charlotte jumped slightly, not expecting anyone to be in the room. "Are you okay? You looked a bit iffy there."

"Oh, Harry, I am just fine, thanks," Charlotte stood and pulled a leather bound book from her bag. She walked over to Harry and handed him the book.

"What's this?" Harry asked, looking at the red leather book with bewilderment.

"It's part of a set I want to show you tonight, Harry," Charlotte stated as Harry turned to leave the room. He turned around and looked back into the dark office, "Is there anything on your mind?"

Harry paused, seemingly in thought, but then he answered, "No." Charlotte eyed Harry curiously, she knew he was lying because what she had seen what he was thinking, and she knew very well that's what that was.

Harry had strong emotions, making his thoughts almost an open book to her. She felt somewhat intruding, but he didn't know and she couldn't always help it.

"Can we go now?" Harry seemed not to ask because of his impatience, but more because of the uncomfortable air around them.

"Yes, of course," Charlotte left the office after harry and pulled the door closed. The trip up to the old muggle studies classroom was quiet and the uncomfortable air hadn't left.

"Professor?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever lost someone whom…" Harry stopped and looked around at the portraits.

"I never really had anyone to fill that position to lose, Harry,"

Charlotte smiled at him. "I know this will seem a bit out of nowhere, but do you care about Malfoy?"

"He's my brother, Harry. I bloody well always will. He doesn't know it, but yes, I do."

"Why?"

Charlotte laughed, "I don't really know." Harry took this as an answer and let the question go.

"Are you sure nothing is on your mind?"

"Yes," Harry stopped before the door. He waited for Charlotte to unlock it and pushed his way in again. The first thing he saw was something he was sure he had missed before. There was a case of leather bound books, just like the one he was holding. It was then that he decided to take a good look at the one he had gripped in his hands. He unwound the leather strap holding the book closed and then opened it up. There, in a fancy scribble were the words:

Property of James Potter

Year four

Harry closed the book and looked up. He had a hard time believing that in his hands he held the window into his father's thoughts while he was in school, "There are four of these journals that your father did, maybe more. I haven't checked. The project was to keep a journal, to pretend to be muggle when you wrote in them. At least that's what I got from it."

Harry opened the little leather book again and flipped through the pages, each one filled with the same scrawl as the inside cover, "I'm surprised, actually," Charlotte started. "Knowing a few things about your dad I fully expected these journals to be near empty."

"It looks like he took to it," Harry whispered, still thumbing through the pages.

"I know that the assignment was to at least write in it once a week, some did just enough to get by," She turned and pulled another little red book out of the case and opened it. "Sirius Black, 48 entries and none of them are longer than a page. At least in his first one."

"First one?"

"Yes, I supposed they had to keep them until they stopped taking muggle studies. Continuing on, there were some that wrote in more than needed, like your father. Then," She said as she turned and pulled two more out and opened one of them, "there are people like this one, who wrote in it probably more than once a day, at least, just to fill two of these for one year. However, I believe your father's are the ones you will want the most, followed by your mother's." Harry listened to every word she said only half-heartedly. He was too busy staring at the book she had originally had in her hands.

"Well, Harry, what else do you want to see?"

"Is there a way to play that record?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Charlotte stepped over to an old record player. It had to have been there since before her father was in school, but she knew it worked. She flicked her wand and the record Harry had been talking about pulled from the shelf and floated over to her hand. She put the record on the table and flicked her wand again, lowering the needle to the vinyl record.

"Are you going to stay?"

"Though I should, I wont if you don't want me to," Harry nodded. "Stay," then he sat on the floor and opened the book again.

October 25

The assignment is to pretend to be muggle and though I've seen and talked to many, I am not one of them. I figure a good start would be vacation. This summer my family went to Rome, dad had business and as usual, mum and I went along. Wasn't too bad, but the stories Sirius and Remus had were exciting and I missed them all. Oh well, I learned a few things about Romans and another about jokes. They don't mix well; at least, not with the Romans I met. Rome was enjoyable, but as the only wizard… boy my age – things get dull. For Christmas dad is supposed to go settle some differences in America, so I may be staying at Hogwarts with Sirius, either that or he is coming home with me. It's already been planned. Remus is probably doing a great job at this assignment and I know Sirius has not written one word. –

Harry stopped reading when the sound of trumpets met his ears. He slowly set down the book and looked up. The voice that met his ears next had confused him as to whom it was. It wasn't rock, but more of an alternative-sounding voice; all the same, it was nice. Harry snapped from his thoughts when he heard Charlotte laughing at him. He looked at her and frowned.

"Like it?"

Harry didn't answer her; he was too busy listening to the voice that was filling the room, "Is that... Remus?"

"Yeah. Not bad, eh?" Charlotte smiled at him and Harry's stomach gave a jolt. Something just seemed way too familiar about her – not just her smile, but everything.

"I read in one of the journals that Remus didn't want to sing. He plays guitar."

"Remus?" Harry asked, not believing that Remus could ever be what she was saying he was or even how she learned all of this information anyway.

"Yes, from what I've heard, he's pretty good. Or at least he was anyway. When I was in school, I spent a lot of time in this room – I've read bits and pieces of a lot of these," She gestured to the shelf.

Harry was about to talk to her when the door opened and none other than Bill Weasley walked in.

"Hey, Harry," Bill smiled at the teenage boy on the floor, patting him on the shoulder. He then turned to Charlotte, who was now sitting on the floor her back leaning casually against the wall, "I knew you'd still be here."

"I need to go to bed," Harry told the two. He wasn't planning on sleeping, but he thought he'd give the two time to themselves. Besides that, he needed to talk to Ron and Hermione.

"Good Night, Harry," Charlotte said in a singsong voice, just before he shut the door again. Bill then sat down against the wall next to the fiery spirited girl.

"Feeling better?"

"Undoubtedly, Billy."

"Do you want to go for a walk? We haven't done that in a while."

"I'd love to," Charlotte answered in a sweet voice that could rival Bill's.

"Good, I would have made you anyway," He grabbed a hold of her hand and pulled her up off the stone floor.

"Oh, really? And, Mr. Weasley, how exactly did you plan to do that? Kidnap me?"

"I cannot kidnap the willing," He told her wisely. "However, it is unwise to mock me."

"Why is that?" Charlotte stepped up to him and went up on her toes.

"Because I'll do this," he swiftly reached down behind her and pulled her legs from under her and picked her up. Charlotte had anticipated that, however, and was not surprised to be held in his arms.

"I'm not impressed, dear William," Bill cocked an eyebrow towards her and then dropped her. She groaned outwardly when her arse hit the floor.

"My dear lady, as a gentleman I must do what is asked of me and you," he pointed at her, "asked for it." She glared at him, but got up and stood beside him nonetheless.

"Can we go now?" Bill smiled and laughed while nodding to himself. He turned on his heel and led the way to the open door. She followed close behind him, "Hey, Bill?"

He looked down at her and waited, "Hmm?"

"I need to get out of these clothes," Bill smiled at her.

"You look fine to me."

Charlotte continued to walk towards her own chambers, not even waiting for him. She knew, though, that he would be following her at a safe distance. When she made it to the door she whispered 'Faye' and then walked in.

Within five minutes she was back in the hallway. Bill was standing, talking to Minerva. Charlotte took that time to walk up behind Bill and listen to what was being said.

"Charlotte, your students seem to like you," Bill told her. "That's what Minerva was saying at least."

"Thank you," Charlotte stepped aside and watched as McGonagall watched her sadly. Charlotte gave her a slightly confused look as Bill said good bye and joined her next to a portrait of a little girl.

"What's wrong?" Bill asked her, noting that she was now wearing: a pair of light blue jeans, a forest green form-fitting shirt, and a black zip up sweatshirt.

"Do you remember that look that I complained that the teachers gave me back in school?"

"The one that made you ramble on for hours at a time?"

"Yes, that one!"

"Then no," Charlotte glared at him.

"Minerva just gave me that same look," Charlotte looked over her shoulder as they walked down the hallway together.

"Maybe, you are just confusing that with the disapproving one she gives you nearly everyday."

"I am not daft, Bill. I can tell the difference. It almost looked like she...she felt sorry for me."

"You are a Malfoy," Bill said, which earned him a nasty smack to the chest. "It's true!" He replied, rubbing the now wounded area.

"I know, but still, you shouldn't be such an ass."

"That's your job, not mine," Bill laughed as Charlotte stuck her tongue out at him. He was only having fun, but she needed to spoil it. That was her job. Bill leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

"So where are we going?"

"Just on a walk, you seemed very stressed today and it's been a bit since we've been out, together," Bill said with a smile.

The two of them walked through the doors into the cool autumn breeze. The night stars were shinning so brightly it seemed almost impossible they were actually real. Charlotte felt the cool air sting her cheeks, turning them slightly pink as it blew past. She raised her head and watched Bill thoughtfully. The hairs that had fallen out of his ponytail were lightly brushing against his rose coloured cheeks. His eyes were bright with enjoyment and upon his lips was his famous half smile. Charlotte knew it well, it wasn't a smirk, but it wasn't a full smile either. And she thought it was absolutely amazing.

He stood beside her in all of his perfectness. Oh how she missed him. He was standing right next to her, but she still missed him. She missed the way they played around, the way she could tell him everything, the way he cared so deeply for her and the way he didn't care who she supposively was; only who she was to him. It suddenly seemed so stupid that she had turned him down so many times, but she, more than most, knew it wasn't going to happen – she didn't want it to.

"Are you all right?" Bill asked, concern written clearly upon his face.

Charlotte laughed, "Yeah, I am fine. Though I don't know about you. In this like you look absolutely horrible!" Bill poked her in the side.

"You are walking on fine line, love," Bill looked down at the shorter black haired devil in front of him.

"And I haven't fallen yet? I must be talented," She smirked at him.

"No, just very lucky I am nice to you, when I shouldn't be."

"Very well said."

"So, what are you showing Harry?" Bill asked, ushering Charlotte to walk with him down the path of aging stone.

"He deserves to know a little about his parents. What better place then the old muggle studies room?"

"Follow me to the Owlery," Bill changed his course and headed along the mis-leveled grounds to the door of the owlery tower. He pulled out a neatly folded note from his jacket pocket and gave it to a particularly scruffy brown owl.

"Take this to Base Three, Romania. Charlie Weasley," with that the bird was off into the night.

"Charlie?" Charlotte watched Bill curiously.

"He wrote me a couple of days about something and I am just now getting back to him."

"How goes it over there?"

"It goes just fine from what I heard."

"Lies!"

"Oh, you're right, I completely forgot. Charlie's arm was torn from the socket by one quite nasty dragon," Bill nodded in thought, keeping a straight face the whole time.

"Really!"

"Yes, he also met this girl and made wild love to her as well!"

"Is that so?"

"Oh, but there is a twist. Aimee is having Vlad's baby!"

"Interesting."

"Yes, and despite all of that, Charlie and her are still together!"

"Oh, Shocking!"

"I know – " Charlotte and Bill stared at each other and then in one swift moment both were laughing. Charlotte was the first to stop. She shifted her weight and looked out into the crystal clear night, "So they're good then?"

"Yup," Bill walked from the door and down the stone steps until the bottom and then sat on the stone ledge and waited for her. She walked down the steps, each step seemed planned out and determined. She always seemed well put together, or rather, as well put together as someone like her could be. He admired her for it, though. She was always one to bite off more tan she could chew. She would stumble around choking for a moment, but somehow she always found a way to swallow and get on with the rest of her life. She always landed on her feet, but one thing she seemed to lack in was emotion. He had seen her scared on occasion and often angry, but she generally was mellow and uncaring. Though, there was one thing he'd never seen from her and that was sadness. Never once in the twelve years of knowing her had he seen her cry. He was sure she was capable of this simple emotion, but she had learned to keep all that inside well. Which, was not a very smart thing to do, in his honorable opinion.

Bill, however, was shaken from his many thoughts when she walked up in between his legs and rested her hands on his knees. She was staring at his stomach before she lifted her head to look him directly in the eyes. At that moment, everything she had thought earlier about him had swiftly left her mind without so much as a good-bye note. She was just lost as she glanced into his light blue eyes.

Before either one of them really knew what they were doing their lips touched in a cold, but fiery embrace.