Chapter Text
There were certain rules that were held in place for the children who lived on Privet Drive. Rules that had been instilled in them from an early age to keep the neighborhood order and to avoid nasty comments from the adults.
Firstly; never walk across the lawns. Always use the footpaths.
Secondly; never pick flowers from the front gardens. That rule was put in place when Mrs Number Seven had caught a pair of six-year-old girls attempting to make flower crowns of her prize-winning roses and had alerted the entire street by shrieking like a banshee.
The third rule was an amalgamation of various good manners. Always reply to a question aimed at you. Always say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. Never talk back.
But there was another rule. Unspoken, but in place, nonetheless.
Stay away from the Potter boy.
Harry Potter lived with his aunt and uncle in Number Four. Mr and Mrs Dursley were often praised for taking in Mrs Dursley’s late sister’s child after the boy’s parents had died. The grown-ups considered this to be the height of responsible benevolence. They also considered the Potter boy to be incredibly disturbed and dangerous, and parents took every opportunity to tell their children to stay away from the boy.
Charlotte Grey- though she preferred to be called Lottie- had never understood this rule. To her, Harry Potter seemed to be a nice boy. They had been in the same class all through primary school. While Lottie was averagely popular with lots of friends, Harry was always alone. When they were younger, a few children had tried to include Harry in their playtime, but these attempts would be almost immediately crushed by Dudley Dursley and his gang of bullies. Lottie had never been one of these children; even at a young age, she knew the benefit of patience. So when little Timmy Walker had been punched in his side hard enough to leave a horrible bruise over his ribs, Lottie, like the other children, got the hint to stay away from Harry Potter.
But being in the same class as Harry, meant that Lottie was in close proximity to the boy, and she could not understand why her parents- and the other adults- told her to keep her distance. Lottie’s desk was to the immediate right of Harry’s. He never did anything horrible to her; like pull her hair, or wipe boogers on her sweater, or hiss mean names, or any of the nasty things the other boys did to girls. Harry always said ‘please’ and ‘thank you’, and when the class would go to the library to get their weekly book to read, he would pull a book down for Lottie if it was too high up for her to reach. In those moments of forced quiet, Lottie and Harry would whisper to each other, learning more about the other.
Harry enjoyed cooking, apparently, he was forced to cook at home, but he did enjoy such a task.
Lottie enjoyed history; learning about the past was very interesting to her.
Harry was one of the smarter boys in their class, but he kept quiet in the back of the classroom.
Lottie was also very smart; the teachers doted upon her and gave her homework assignments gold stars and sent letters of encouragement to her parents.
Harry’s parents had died in a car crash when he was a baby.
Lottie had very loving parents.
Mr and Mrs Grey never outright told Lottie to stay away from Harry Potter, but they weren’t very encouraging of the friendship either. Mr Grey seemed content to ignore the boy even when Harry was bidding him to have a pleasant day. Mrs Grey always pushed Lottie towards her girlfriends, citing that Lottie was now too old to have friends who were boys.
Neither Lottie or Harry understood this.
To be perfectly honest, Lottie didn’t understand many rules. But she played along with the adults and was the good girl. She accepted the praise when she did well, watched closely to those who broke said rules and were punished, and stayed aware of the double standards that were blatantly flaunted every day.
To the average person, Lottie was a perfectly normal little girl.
But that changed on the last day of school before the summer holidays.
Eleven years old that April, Lottie walked home with her friends. They laughed and talked about their plans for the summer, and how glad they were that primary school was over with. Lottie and her friends would be going off to a prestigious academy for girls in the south of England. Mr and Mrs Grey were already making such a fuss over their daughter growing so fast. Lottie took the comments in stride, but it was a little embarrassing.
“You should have seen Mummy this morning,” June Duncan sighed dramatically. “Honestly, from the way she carried on; you would think I was already off to university!”
“You’d think they would wait until after the summer holiday was over,” Felicity Kent spoke up, shaking her head of gold pin curls.
Lacey Hawthorn sighed heavily. “You’re all so lucky! Dad can’t seem to wait to send me away.”
“Oh I’m sure he’ll get all weepy when the time actually comes,” Lottie said airily. “He’s probably in denial, same as the rest of our parents.”
Lacey smiled as they rounded the corner onto Private Drive. “This is me. See you tomorrow!”
“We’ll be at the playground after breakfast,” Juna said.
Lottie said goodbye to her friends, and they parted ways, leaving for their own homes. Lottie continued down the sidewalk, humming tunelessly under her breath as she walked. She was just thinking of a plan to get Harry to join them when she came across a lone daisy poking through one of the garden gates. Lottie stopped and stared down at the white bloom.
The flower wasn’t, technically, in any garden. It was out here on the sidewalk. It didn’t belong to anyone. Fair game.
Lottie reached down and picked the daisy, making sure to keep the stem nice and long. She would put it in a vase and keep it on her headboard. Lottie straightened up and admired the pretty flower. And then the moment was ruined.
Dudley Dursley and his gang came hurtling down the path. One of the boys intentionally shoved into Lottie, causing her to stumble and fall to her knees. She lost her grip on the daisy, and it fell to the ground where it was promptly crushed under an overly large shoe. The boys laughed but didn’t stop running until they had taken refuge in Number Four.
“Rude, Lottie huffed. She winced, feeling her skinned knees begin to bleed a little. Lottie picked up the crushed flower. She frowned. Several of the daisy’s petals had come loose and fallen when she picked it up. Now only three wilted petals remained attached to the head. It was a shame; it had been a very pretty flower. Lottie had hoped to gift it to her mother.
Even as she stared at the broken flower…something amazing happened.
The daisy wriggled in her hand and Lottie almost dropped it again. And then a petal popped out of the head. And another. And another until the flower was in full bloom once more. Lottie stared in open-mouthed awe at what she had done.
What had she done?
Magic?
“Lottie!”
She looked up to see her mother running down the sidewalk to her, her brow pinched with worry. “Lottie, what happened?”
Lottie pushed herself to her feet, keeping a tight hold on the daisy. “Some of the boys knocked me over. I’m fine.”
“Oh look at the state of your knees!” Mrs Grey fretted. “Come along home, dear, and wash off.” She caught sight of the daisy in her daughter’s hand. “Where did you get that?”
“The playground,” Lottie lied easily. She knew her mother wouldn’t care for the technicalities that Lottie had told herself before picking the bloom.
Mrs Grey frowned as she shepherded her daughter to the house. “I shall have to inform the city council that the gardeners are slacking off keeping the neighborhood in pristine condition.”
A week into the summer holiday, Lottie was sitting on her bed reading when her father called out to her.
“Lottie dear! Would you come down?”
Rolling off her bed, Lottie came down the stairs to find her parents in the sitting room. Mr Grey was standing by the hearth while Mrs Grey was sitting in her usual armchair.
“What’s up?” she asked, sitting down on the sofa.
Her parents exchanged excited grins. Mrs Grey smiled at her daughter and placed a hand over her stomach. “Lottie, I’m pregnant.”
Lottie’s jaw dropped. “Really?!” she asked with ill-concealed excitement.
“Really,” Mrs Grey laughed. “You’re going to be a big sister!”
Lottie bolted off the sofa but was careful when she wrapped her arms around her mother. “That’s brilliant! Oh, mum! Do you know what it is? Boy or girl?”
“Too early to tell,” Mr Grey chuckled. “After a few more months, we should know.”
“I’m so happy!” Lottie exclaimed. “I’m finally going to be a big sister!”
Dinner that night was a celebratory affair. Lottie was almost beside herself with excitement that she didn’t eat very much. Mr Grey insisted on doing the dishes, forcing Mrs Grey upstairs to enjoy a relaxing bubble bath.
“Oh, Lottie,” Mr Grey said as he began to gather the dishes. “A letter came for you this morning. I had completely forgotten. It’s on my desk.”
“Thanks Dad,” Lottie said. She went into her father’s office and splayed the stack of mail out, finding her letter at the bottom.
Miss C. Grey
The First Floor Bedroom
6 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
Lottie stared at the funny address. Why was her bedroom part of the address? That wasn’t how any of her father’s letters were addressed. Confused, Lottie took the letter up to her bedroom. Seated at her tiny desk with the pink table lamp switched on, she stared at the address. The penmanship was beautiful, clearly done by some sort of professional, and made in emerald green ink. Turning the letter over, Lottie opened in and pulled out a funny bit of paper with the same emerald green writing as the address on it. It read:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Miss. Grey,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find the enclosed list of all necessary book and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress
It had to be some kind of joke. Witchcraft and Wizardry? Merlin? Supreme Mugwump? That last one made Lottie giggle. And what kind of name was Dumbledore? It was too ridiculous! Lottie tipped the envelope upside down and another paper slid out onto her lap. It looked to be some kind of list.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
UNIFORM
First year students will require:
1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)
2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)
Please note that all pupils’ clothes should carry name tags
COURSE BOOKS
All students should have a copy of each of the following:
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch
One Thousand Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore
Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beast and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble
OTHER EQUIPMENT
1 wand
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
1 set of glass or crystal phials
1 telescope
1 set brass scales
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS
Well, that settled it.
This was definitely a joke.
“Broomsticks,” Lottie scoffed, stuffing the papers back into the envelope.
Nonsense.
And yet…
Lottie thought back to her birthday, back to when that horrible Dursley boy had tried to steal one of her presents, and then the boy’s fruit punch blowing up in his fat face at the same moment Lottie’s anger had reached a boiling point.
And then the daisy incident just last week.
Magic?
No. It was just nonsense.
Right?
The joke letter was soon forgotten, as Lottie’s attention was drawn to the sudden absence of the Dursley’s. Sitting on the grass at the playground with a group of her friends, Lottie listened as Lacey told the peculiar story.
“All those owls hanging around their house!” Lacey was saying. “In broad daylight!”
“Spooky,” Felicity put in with a shiver.
“Mummy says that she was sure she saw one of them drop a letter at the door,” Lacey went on.
“Sure it wasn’t something else it dropped?” June Duncan tittered.
“I heard that they got letters delivered to them in their eggs,” Lottie supplied. “How does one go about doing that?”
“I bet it has something to do with that Potter boy,” Lacey said darkly. “He’s so weird!”
“He is not weird,” Lottie objected. “He’s just shy. And his beast of a cousin doesn’t help; beating up anyone who tries to be friends with him.”
“At least one good thing will come from going on to secondary,” Felicity sighed. “No Dudley and his gang.”
“All going to that Smelting’s school, are they?” Lottie asked.
“I heard them bragging the other day,” Felicity shrugged, beginning to rip up the grass between her feet.
June blew out air and flopped onto her back. “It’s so hot! I don’t want to stay out all day in this heat. Want to come ‘round to my place for some lemonade?”
The girls all agreed and left the playground together. It was, indeed, the hottest day of that summer. Lottie stayed with her friends at June’s house where they played with dolls and watched an American movie on June’s new bedroom TV. Lottie was just wondering how to go about asking her parents for a TV for her bedroom when June’s mother poked her head in.
“Charlotte, your father just rang. He wants you home immediately.”
Felicity and Lacey both ‘ooh’ed at Lottie as she got to her feet.
“I’m sure you’re not in trouble, dear,” Mrs Duncan soothed before leaving.
Lottie rolled her eyes. Why did adults always say that? But what would Lottie be in trouble for? She hadn’t done anything wrong.
Right?
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Lottie promised.
“My place,” Felicity reminded her.
Lottie waved and left the house. It was a short walk to Number Six. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It was the same walk, the same garden, the same stained glass screen door in front of the black door that led inside.
What was incredibly out of place, were the two strange men sitting in the parlor.