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."
Harry cracked a grin at this. "I get that too! The number of times I'm told I have my mother's eyes. Well, obviously- I do sort of share her blood."
"Exactly, they always state the obvious," Charlotte cackled and the two laughed pleasantly. It was strange talking about the loss of her mother in a way that's so casual. Everyone else always gave her pity, but not Harry. He understood it.
"But you know what's the worst?" Harry said eventually, when the amusement had died down. "I have no idea what I'm missing."
"But you miss it anyway."
"Yeah," Harry sighed and silence fell for a second. "Next question, then. Your turn."
"I'm really rubbish at this, aren't I?" she chuckled before humming in thought. "Er, okay- what was the last dream you had?"
"Can't remember," Harry said quickly. "Your turn."
"Only thing I recall from last night's episode of Charlotte Cardleman's subconscious was being told my hair smells like lemonade by this bitch from my school."
"Well, does it?"
"No, but that's not the point," Charlotte tutted. "She said it like that was an unpleasant smell. I love lemonade. I'd love to smell like lemonade."
"You should buy a perfume."
"Are you trying to tell me I stink, Romeo?"
"Precisely, Julliet."
"What did you just call me?"
"If you get to call me Romeo," Harry shrugged. "I get to call you Julliet."
"No thanks," Charlotte shot back, playfully. "I don't want to die thank you very much."
"Well, neither do I!"
"Well, from what I've heard, Romeo," Charlotte spoke, lowering her voice. "You're at death's door every other weekend anyway. Call me something else."
"Charlie, then," Harry sighed in defeat.
"Ouch. That's what my dad calls me," Charlotte cringed. "No, call me... Lottie."
"Lottie?"
"No, Peggy," she giggled. "Of course Lottie! Nobody else calls me Lottie. I wish they would."
"I quite like it, actually," Harry nodded, satisfied. "Lottie."
"Me too, Romeo," that was when her phone buzzed in her back skirt pocket and she shifted forwards to get it out and read the text.
From: Dad
getting dark- and it's summer time. can't take you this long to deliver tart.
She sighed, blowing a hair out of her face before replying.
To: Dad
be home in 20 min. Café or house?
From: Dad
House, ASAP. Love you.
"I better get going," Charlotte said, before looking up and realising that in her effort to reach her phone, she had inched far too close to Harry. There was an awkward moment of silence before he coughed and stood up, abruptly. She did the same.
"Yeah, probably," he agreed. "Sirius will be home soon."
"One last question before I go," she said, suddenly without thinking. "My school does this thing, some stupid tradition, where there's a bonfire, and we burn our blazers on it... Everyone always brings someone, so... Would you like to come with me?"
For a moment, Charlotte regretted asking, and prepared for rejection but then Harry gave her the happiest, most brilliant smile she'd ever seen, and her heart hammered in her chest.
"I'd love to," he replied and she smiled, looking down at the floor awkwardly. "I can show you out if you want. O-or you can stay, it's up to you."
"I want to," she sighed. "But it's getting pretty dark. Thanks by the way."
"I should be thanking you," he answered. "You're the one who came round."
"Nah, today was pretty good," she insisted. "This is the first time I've been able to sit still and concentrate on one conversation since... Well, forever. So, thanks."
"It was a pleasure."
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Hi everyone! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I worked quite hard on it, and I'm not sure whether it's boring or not, but I think there's something special about regular conversations between characters.
Please consider leaving a vote and comment on this if you enjoyed this post- I know I've been churning out the updates almost everyday with this fic, but I just love writing it so much, and I will be going back to school next week so I want to write as much as possible before I lose all my spare time.
Qotd: worst pet peeve?
Aotd: people who are super smart acting like they're not
-Amber.