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charlotte year five

AN: Teehee, I'm writing this really early. I've barely started Charlotte's Year One. If you found your way here about that story, prepared to be shocked.

Chapter Thirty - Shadows of the Night

"We're running with the shadows of the night, so baby take my hand it'll be alright. Surrender all your dreams to me tonight; they'll come true in the end."
-Pat Benatar

Charlotte was at some bar, dressed in a short little silk green dress. She looked hot and she knew it. She needed a distraction; she was going to find one.

"Another martini, please." Charlotte spoke to the bartender as she casually turned around from the three guys she was talking with. One was a twenty-something year old guy from Denmark whose name was Franklin Johnson, or Johanson. Another was a brunette who looked just about the same age as her mother, his name as John, or James, or Jim, or something with a J. The third was a muscular young boy. He looked about five years older than Charlotte at the most. Perhaps three years older than her in reality.

There was a pull at her arm, it was neither of the three men, it was a boy just a year older than her.

"Warren, how'd you get in?" Charlotte asked, grabbing her martini from the bar and walking off with him.

Warren rolled his eyes. "I should ask you the same question."

"I can be here. No one cares if I'm here. You on the other hand, you're Warren Cooper. You're front page news."

"And so are you." Warren pointed out. "Your mom's in Azkaban, your sister just had a kid at fourteen, and your brother is getting publicly violent. Why add this too? Come on Charlotte, grow up. You're fifteen, not five. You're not twenty five either, you can't drink and pick up guys."

"Why not? You slept with my best friend at a party when you were my date. Why can't I sleep with guys at a bar?" Charlotte said.

Warren looked like he'd been slapped. "So this is it huh? Everytime I call your bluff, you'll just bring that  up?"

Charlotte's face turned desperate and depressed. "Why not?" She spat out. "It's not like you don't deserve it."

"So that's it?"

Charlotte nodded.

"I'm done." Warren said. "You're gonna act like this, I'm done." He walked off.

Charlotte took a swig of her martini. That night she drank too many drinks. And she was sure she kept drinking for days. The next time she would be sober was about a week later.

Charlotte woke up in a start, someone was gagging her mouth. She wanted to scream, but only for a split second as she saw the brown eyes of Amulius Muyskens tell her to be quiet. Charlotte sat up in her bed. "Amulius, what is it this time?" She asked.

"The Dark Lord has made a command of you." Amulius spoke easily, beginning to dig through her closet. He pulled out her white satin dressing gown and threw it at her.

"What desire does the Dark Lord have of me at this time of night?" Charlotte asked, getting out of the bed and throwing the gown over her night ensemble. A black satin nightie with green shorts.

Amulius looked outraged. "You mean you forgot what day it is?"

Charlotte nodded, tying the gown. "I haven't been fully sober in over a week, I have no idea what day it is."

"The seventh." Amulius whispered into her ear, sensually enough for Charlotte to shiver.

"Oh no." Charlotte said simply as she heard a pop. She felt an odd sensation, one she was now used to, as they apparated. They landed in an old house. It looked as though no one had lived there for years by the inches of dust conversing on the mantle. "Where are we?"

"Black, you should know better. No questions." Amulius said. "Now hush." He added, beginning to lead her up a flight of stairs that creaked eerily on one of the first steps. They passed at least a dozen rooms, all with doors slightly creaked open, before Amulius entered one of the doors on the left.

Charlotte shuddered as the atmosphere changed. The eerie house changed into magneticism and fear. The Dark Lord sat in a chair, more of a throne. His posture was akin to a magnificent King's. And as much as Charlotte knew it was dangerous, it didn't matter. Seeing him in that chair, possessing the attention of the room, the occupants, and the walls, Charlotte was all the more attracted to the power. It was hypnotizing, as it always was. "My Lord," Charlotte said, kneeling into a mix of bow and courtsey.

"Welcome Charlotte," Charlotte faintly noticed behind the Dark Lord were two figures covered in large and slightly baggy robes, "Amulius," The Dark Lord acknowleged Amulius faintly. "Leave us." He commanded to Amulius. He disapparated within a second as though relieved to be gone from the Dark Lord's teriffying presecence.

"May I ask why I was brought here?" Charlotte asked, rather boldly, with hardly any manners.

The Dark Lord laughed in a tone of malice. "You are far too like your father with that bold nature of yours." Charlotte paused for a second. No one had ever told her that her father was bold, her mother refered to him as meek.

She carried on with her act. "My father is not me, I would request to know why I am needed on the night of break out. My duty is this morning."

"Indeed it is." The Dark Lord said. He studied her face for a few moments, Charlotte was positive he was giving her a test. She passed, as he only gave off a faint smirk instead of rage. "As the wars continues on, younger generations join our group. Your father made me believe I could trust no follower to begin his life journey before they became an adult. You have proven me wrong." Something inside of Charlotte made her smile, slightly, with joy at the compliment. "And I have decided I will add another young follower."

"So why am I here? You have already chosen me." Charlottte pointed out.

"Correct, and since I trust you so well. I trust that you will make a choice of which one of these boys will be my newest follower and your protogee."

"And who are my choices?" Charlotte asked, glancing at the two boys, hooded beyond recognition she had barely noticed before.

The Dark Lord barely made a sound. "Boys, remove your hoods."

There was pause, and the both boys pulled down their hoods to reveal their true identities.

Charlotte gasped in shock.

Theodore Nott and Isaac Mercer!

Chapter Thirty One - January 7, 4:15

"Tell me it was just a dream, August 7, 4:15; God closed his eyes and the world got mean. ... I know tonight there's an angel up on heaven's highest hill. No one'll ever touch you, baby no one ever will."
-Bon Jovi

More to come later.... ciao


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