1 A Secret Stuffing
Charles POV
22 July 1991
After walking home from his last day at school, Charles took off his shoes and trudged his way up the stairs slowly, but eagerly. He couldn't wait to fall into his bed and when he got into his room, he did just that and dived headfirst into his pillows. He was tired. Dead tired. The way he always felt after school.
He wondered whether other children felt like he did; he doubted it. Charles knew how hard he worked compared to the other students. They would talk in lessons while he listened and went over what he had already learned. They played games and ate at lunchtime while he would study and revise. For what? For anything. Charles had nothing other than his clothes, pens and books.
Other children had friends and people they could talk to. Charles didn't have any of that. He didn't even have a family. He had spent his whole life in the foster system, moving from one foster home to another every six months and over the years he had learned to not get attached. There was no point in making a friend you'd have to forget in a few months. Friends weren't worth the hurt they came with.
Charles took comfort in his books and in his drawings. Unlike friends, he could take his books and pictures with him when he left for the next house.
Charles rolled onto his back and stared at his pictures on the walls. There were pictures of dragons, lions, swords and armours and they overlapped one another, the newer ones on top, hiding the past. Only one drawing hadn't been covered by another. One of the first paintings he had painted. A portrait of his family, the way he had always imagined them to be when he was younger. In his picture his mother had long and beautiful white-blond hair, just like his own, and his father had his dark eyes.
They would never come for him, he knew that, but like an idiot, he couldn't bring himself to take the picture down or cover it up. So, he put it up on a wall every time he moved into a new room.
The thought of his non-existent family, and their names he would never know, made his eyes wet. But he refused to allow himself to cry. He was better than that, he knew it. 'Who needs parents! I don't need them! I'm fine on my own.'
Despite his thinking, Charles felt the threat of tears in his eyes. He thought back to today's test results and how he had gotten the best marks in the class once again. His mood brightened as he remembered. He was at the top at his current school too, he thought with a sneer. It didn't matter what school they sent him to, it never would. He was always the best at everything; part of him felt like he had to be. Like he had to prove he was worth just as much as the other kids. Sometimes he felt like he was worth more. But then another kid would be adopted instead of him and he would feel worthless again.
"Dinnertime!" a woman's voice echoed from the downstairs. "Everyone, come to the table now, before it gets cold!"
Charles knew better than to make Sam wait, she was a kind woman but by god could she be scary. He had seen the other children cower after she disciplined them and today wasn't going to be the day it happened to him. So he got up and changed out of his uniform and into a plain white short-sleeved shirt and grey tracksuit bottoms and made his way down.
He entered into the dinning room where a few others were already sitting at the table. Seeing as the meal wasn't served yet, Charles began making himself useful. He went to the drawer with the cutlery and began setting up the table quietly, like he always did.
"Thank you, Charlie," he turned to see Sam smiling at him and his cheeks flushed a little, he enjoyed being praised and she knew it. "I've got a surprise for you after dinner, so stick around, ok?" He nodded his head, finished setting the table and sat down as she went back to putting the last touches on the food.
Charles peered round the table, looking at his housemates. There were seven of them in the house, excluding Sam, and most of them were younger than him. They left him alone for the most part, probably scared by his very black eyes, which he had learned long ago most found unnerving. In the past Charles would have to put effort into avoiding his housemates, and he found it both an annoying and tiring affair.
Fortunately, as time went on, he found that people began staying away from him without him even trying to send them away. At least, almost everyone...
He looked at the empty seat beside him. That was where Emily, the only other person his age, would always sit. She was the only person that seemed immune to his natural repellent.
Loud steps came down the stairs and Emily ran through the hallway to her seat. "Hey Charles! Where were you at lunch today? I was looking for you eveerrywhere." She spoke energetically with a voice that, according to the other boys at school, was a pitch too high. Charles had heard them talking about how it took away from her cute looks once. Though it didn't really matter to him. Emily's sea-green eyes stared at him through the bangs of her auburn hair with small curls, waiting for his reply
"I was in the library." He said curtly. It was a lie. He had actually stayed in a classroom that no one ever went to at lunch, since it was far away from the cafeteria. Charles had learned to keep himself distanced from the other kids; it made it easier to say goodbye when the time came.
Emily had for some reason taken this as a challenge when they'd first met and ever since had gone out of her way to try and befriend him. Because of this no one else was allowed to sit next to him at dinner or she would complain. Charles didn't mind this however, he actually rather liked Emily, even if he kept her at an arms distance. She had a way of breaking down people's walls and her smile was almost infectious.
'Almost,' he thought.
"But I looked in the library!" she frowned slightly, staring into his dark eyes. Charles looked away from her, having been caught in a lie. Her gaze was too strong.
"Leave Charlie be, Emily," said Sam softly.
"But he's lying, Sam!" she protested.
"I'm sure you just missed him little one. Anyway. I need you to stay behind after the meal, okay?" she asked, though it was more an instruction than a question.
Sam was this house's foster carer, and again, although she was one of the kindest women Charles had ever met, she had a toughness to her that reminded them all of who was in charge. She had the respect of all the children here and because of this there were hardly any incidents of troublemaking.
"Fine," said Emily, slumping in her chair a little.
"Good. Now tonight you all have sweet jacket potato with peas." She told them and started to serve each of their plates. They all waited for her to sit down and once she did, began to dig into their food.
Their meals were never as simple as she said, Charles knew. There were always little extra parts of the dish she wouldn't mention. A secret glaze, a hidden stuffing and this time Charles could taste honey and the flavour made him smirk.
"Charles likes it!" Emily giggled at him, her mouth still chewing.
"Close your mouth when you eat." He told her plainly, manners were an important part of life no matter where you went.
"Make me," she started but Charles ignored her and went back to eating. She was right though. He really did like the meal.
'I wonder how she knew.'
A fork entered his view and scooped up some of his potato. He gasped. 'My potato! Who dares?!'
He followed the fork as it retreated away from his plate and into Emily's mouth. She smirked at him and Charles knew he had to act. 'Two can play at that game.' He swiped back at her own plate taking a bigger mouthful than she had and ate it. He looked at her smugly, expecting to see a face of defeat, but instead he found her smiling triumphantly at him. Charles had fallen for her trap.
"I win." Emily said and went back to her meal with glee. It took him a moment to register that she had gotten him to play her games with her.
'Whatever,' he thought to himself and started eating again. He didn't notice Sam looking at them with a softly because he unknowingly had begun smiling himself.
The rest of dinner went by quietly for Charles. Emily was sending him silly looks throughout, it eluded him how she had ended up getting so attached to him, but they hadn't spoken since their battle.
Charles had been listening to everyone else talking instead. James, the oldest boy in the home, had been the focal point today as his band would be playing in his school's talent show. Charles had heard him playing his guitar in his room many times over the last few months and knew he was talented at it. Charles cheered him on in his head as everyone other than him and Emily left the dining room.
Charles got up and started collecting the plates on the table. Everyday he would set the table and wash up the dishes. A habit he picked up years ago in another home. Sam had never asked him to, but Charles liked to make himself useful and would object whenever she told him he didn't have to.
Sam walked up to him and ruffled his hair lightly, "Emily help Charlie with the washing up. I'll go upstairs and get your letters."
'Letters? Why would I have a letter? Who would even send one to me?' he wondered as he watched his caretaker walk off. He had no family, no friends and nobody had written to him before, so why now?
Emily walked up beside him with a tea towel she had picked up and waited for him to give her something to dry.
"Do you think the letters are for us?" she asked, a little excitement in her voice. Charles understood why. He had never gotten a letter before either. The two of them had no known living relatives to send them. Then again it was hard to know if he had any family out there. Unlike Emily, Charles didn't even have a surname that could be used to find them. He shook his head, thinking about this wouldn't do him any good.
"Probably. We'll find out soon anyway. Here," he said handing her a wet plate he had just washed.
They finished up with the cleaning and before they could start putting everything away, Sam entered the room, her hands behind her back. "You can finish up in a minute, after you open these!" Sam revealed her hands from behind her and in them were two seperate letters.
Charles rushed over to get his and she handed it to him after giving Emily, who had sprinted over as fast as she could, hers. Charles handed the paper envelope with care as he inspected it. His heart pumped loudly in his chest as he read the name on the letter.
'MR C. GAUNT'
'Gaunt? Is that my name? Charles Gaunt?' Charles didn't know what to think, he was confused and shocked by the name. Still he couldn't just blindly accept the name as his own, he had to be sure it was his and that there wasn't simply a mistake. For all he knew, the letter could be for someone else named Callum or Connor.
"Sam?" he called her unsurely, "How do you know this is for me. It doesn't say Charles, so what if it's meant for someone else and not me."
She looked at him kindly, but Charles saw the pity in her eyes. She reached for his cheek with her hand before speaking gently, "It's yours Charlie. I made sure when the lady delivered it this morning. Your name is Charles Gaunt. A handsome name for a handsome boy," she cooed — "although I still prefer Charlie."
Charles felt tears rise up and this time he didn't have the strength to hold them back. For as long as he could remember he had been Charles. Just Charles. Every time he had to introduce himself in a new home or school, he was reminded of what everyone else but him had, a family.
Sam pulled him in for a hug however it was interrupted by a squeal. "Look Charles! Look!" came Emily's high-pitched voice. The girl had been in her own world, having ripped open the envelope and read the contents already. She forgot her excitement however, when she realised Charles was crying. "What's wrong Charles. Are you ok?" she ran over to him and grabbed his face, before wiping away the few fallen tears with her sweater sleeve. Charles had quickly put on a mask of indifference. A mask he had grown familiar with.
"I'm fine Emily. Just got something in my eyes." It was an obvious lie and one that Charles was sure she picked up on, but she didn't say anything about it which Charles was grateful for. 'She really is a nice girl. A bit annoying sometimes, but still too kind for her own good. I should treat her better.'
"You read your letter? What's does it say?" Charles asked her.
"You won't believe this Charles!" she exclaimed, her excitement returning as quick as it left. "I've been invited to- "
A knock on the door interrupted her. Sam moved quickly towards it. "That could be her!" she said as she went.
'Who's her? The lady who delivered the letter? How did she know my name?' Charles's mind filled with questions he wanted answers to.
"Anyway," Emily resumed, "Hogwarts, Charles!"
"Hogwarts?" he repeated her confused, "What's that supposed to mean?" 'Sounds like a kind of infection.'
"It's a school, Mr Gaunt," came a stern sounding voice from the hallway. It belonged to a rather tall woman wearing a strange dark and velvety coat which had a green sheen to it. Charles looked at her warily and was surprised to find that she seemed to be looking at him the same way. "Have you not opened your letter?" she asked him with a raised brow. Charles wasn't used to being stared at in such a way, it made him feel uncomfortable.
"Not yet, Mrs?"
"McGonagall, Mrs McGonagall." She told him a touch kindlier which made Charles relax a little. "I was hoping you would open them after I got here."
Sam spoke up, "Sorry Minerva, I couldn't help myself. They both looked so tired after school today that I couldn't help but try and cheer them up."
McGonagall sighed before letting out a chuckle, her sternness leaving her. "It's quite alright. May I please speak to the children privately, Samantha."
"Of course, I'll be in the living room when you need me, the children will show you the way," said Sam before leaving the room.
McGonagall looked to Charles and Emily. "Now I'm sure you're both curious about your letters and why I'm here," Charles nodded at that, "I'm here to formally invite the two of you to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Charles could hear the pride in her voice, and it made him curious.
"Am I a wizard?!" Emily beamed making McGonagall smile softly. Charles on the other hand just furrowed his brows. 'I've read enough books to know that wizards and witches don't exist.'
"Girls are witches, Miss Clark. Now Mr Gaunt over here is a wizard." McGonagall turned to him, "I'm sure you have a few questions Mr Gaunt." Charles wasn't used to hearing the surname yet.
"How do you know my surname is Gaunt? The adults have been trying to find out what it was for years and they never managed it. Why do you know it?" In truth Charles knew that they had given up looking a long time ago, but a little never exaggeration never hurt anyone.
"Charles Gaunt!" Emily jumped onto Charles, "I like it! Your name's really cool, Charles." He blushed, unused to the compliment, which strangely pleased the girl.
"Magic, Mr Gaunt," said McGonagall. Charles looked at her sceptically. "I believe it's better I show you first." McGonagall pulled out a wand from her robes.
'Robes? I thought it was a coat.'
"Orchideous," casted McGonagall with a flick of her wand. Bright coloured flowers of different varieties bloomed from the tip of her wand and when they fell to the ground Emily caught as many as she could, amazement all over her face.
"That was incredible," she beamed at the older woman. "Wasn't it, Charles."
Charles was rendered speechless from the magical display and could only nod his head slowly.
"Could I do that?" he said louder than he meant to. Emily nodded her head, her gleaming eyes asking the same question.
McGonagall smiled down at them, "At Hogwarts you'll be able learn this and many more spells. If you're willing to study hard, of course."
"I'm willing," Charles said firmly, forgetting his earlier disbelief of magic, and looked to Emily.
"Me too," Emily added and happily met Charles's eyes with her own.
"I'll take those words as an acceptance of our offer then." She had a slight smile on her face as she spoke. "Hogwarts is happy to welcome you both into our halls come September." McGonagall put her wand away, "Now I haven't got much time today, but tomorrow I have cleared out my morning to take you both to Diagon Alley, where we'll gather what you'll need for your first year at Hogwarts." Charles and Emily nodded their heads enthusiastically. "Oh, and before I forget, make sure not to mention any of this to muggles."
"What are muggles?" Emily asked.
"Non-magic folk Miss Clark. Now, I need to speak to your caregiver and sort out the small details and then I must be off. Would one of you please show the way to the living room?" McGonagall asked and Emily grabbed her hand and led her away. Charles was going to follow but realised he hadn't read his letter yet.
'I'll read the letter in my room and then I'll join them.' He all but ran up the stair to his room and shut the door. Sitting down on his bed, he opened up the envelope carefully, breaking the purple crest seal and making sure not to tear the paper. Slowly he pulled out the yellow parchment, unfolded it and began to read the emerald green ink,
---
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 Mr Gaunt,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
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, with silver fastenings)
Please note that all pupil's 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 Magical Herbs and Fungi
by Phyllida Spore
Magical Drafts and Potions
by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beasts 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 glass or crystal phials
1 telescope
1 set brass scales
Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS
ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK
Yours sincerely,
Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus
Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus
Chief Attendant of Witchcraft Provisions
---
'It's mandatory I have a hat?'
