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TWENTY QUESTIONS
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"How exactly do you know about... everything?" Harry asked as Charlotte plated up the treacle tart. The house was empty apart from the two of them, with the twins gone and Harry's godfather doing some kind of wizard government work, she couldn't have picked a better time to arrive. Although, it was coincidence of course.

"My dad fell in love with a witch and she fell in love with him. And, as most love stories go, she told him her deepest darkest secrets," she answered quietly "Like the amazing things she could do, and the terrible things her Death Eater husband would do, and she almost escaped to live with us."

"Almost?"

"Philip Nott is a murderer," Charlotte spat, suddenly consumed by anger towards the man she would give anything to hurt but knew she would never be able to. She quickly reminded herself that anger was not an attractive emotion and calmed herself. "Would you like custard?"

"I'd love custard, thank you," he replied with a smile and she proceeded to soak two slices in the yellow liquid. "I'm sorry for your loss by the way. I'm also sorry if I'm being rude, but exactly how much do you know?"

"Not a lot," she answered, although she hated to admit it. For some reason, she felt no need to sound informed, or educated on the Wizarding World, not like she felt she had to be around the twins, or Theodore. It was refreshing to be express her ignorance. 

The two teens moved into the living room, dessert bowls in hand and collapsed onto the couch. Charlotte grabbed the TV remote and switched on the square box, flicking through the channels before finally settling on Top of the Pops where the Spice Girls were being interviewed.

"If you haven't got it. Fake it," the television sounded. "Too short? Wear big high heels, but do practice walking!"

"God, I love Posh," Charlotte said, just to break the silence. "She's so inspiring."

"Really?" Harry grinned. "I prefer Scary, much more down to earth."

"Didn't take you as a girl band fan," she laughed, and he shrugged with a chuckle.

"I'm not," he corrected with a cheeky smile. "But if it's something you enjoy, I'll definitely get into it."

Charlotte blushed at this, looking down at the steaming bowl in her lap and tucking her blonde hair behind her ear. "Hey," she said regaining her wits. "How about we play twenty questions?"

For a while they asked simple questions, like full name, birthday, star sign, and material things of the like. They had passed twenty questions roughly half an hour ago but neither of them minded, questions continuing on.

Charlotte loved this. She loved learning about him, hopes and dreams, fears, even shoe size at one point when neither of them could think of anything to say, but it was fun regardless.

"If you could change one thing about your life, what would it be?" Harry asked later on at a point where they had lost track of time. Their bowls of treacle tart had long since been abandoned and replaced with steaming hot mugs of tea, which both teens held close to their chest.

"Hard one, there's so much terrible shit to choose from," Charlotte joked and Harry grinned. "No, but honestly, I wish I had a mother. You understand, don't you?"

"Yes," he replied, quietly. "I do, but there's no point in me talking about something you already know. I would like to know though..."

"She died in childbirth," she replied with a shrug, to save him the trouble of asking. "I was an unplanned baby, my parents were only nineteen and her body couldn't take it. So, here I am, motherless, named after a dead woman and constantly being reminded that I'm so much like her."

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