Chapter 1: The hogwarts express

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Charlie sat quietly on top of his trunk.

For the first time ever, he'd packed his things when his mum had told him to. Honestly, he was just glad for the short distraction that it was. Now that it was packed though, he didn't know what to think.

Would this be the last time he was ever going to be here? He looked around the room he had barely occupied in his life. Most of the time he'd spent travelling around with his mum and dad. It was a miracle if they were to stay in one place for longer as three months.

In a way it made him envy Jennifer. She got to be normal, go to school, have normal friends. She could go to the bowling alley, or swim or catch a movie. He hadn't had any of that. It was constant pressure and disappointment in himself when his studies didn't go fast enough. Which was almost always.

He remembered going to Hogwarts for the first time as a student and then getting to live there for 9 months straight. Hogwarts had been more of a home as this empty house was. There were hardly any memories made here and the walls of his room were rather bare.

He had to live out of his trunk his entire life, and while they always had a roof over their head, not everywhere was nice. He didn't have a wardrobe for his stuff sometimes, but more often then not he'd barely settled in before they had to move again. A new country, new language that he didn't speak, new kids he didn't know and a new place to stay.

He wondered if he would ever really come to miss this place though. The only thing that had been here for him that he couldn't get anywhere else was his sister, and now she was gone. That, and the dream of being a normal boy. But then again, reality rarely held up to fantasy. Would he have been happy as an ordinary boy, instead of being the chosen one? Would he have gotten on the swimming team? Would he have explored the forests they were surrounded with, and pestered his sister with various bugs and stuff he found there, like he'd seen other kids with siblings do?

What was the purpose of this place, really? In a vain effort to leave his mark on the room he'd put up posters of his favorite quidditch team, a clock on the wall with spaceships. The bedsheets were red, of course they were. His parents had been so sure his whole life that he'd be a Gryffindor. He remembered the fear he felt when being sorted, what it would mean if he didn't end up in Gryffindor.

He still wonders sometimes what would have happened if he hadn't been sorted into Gryffindor.

Would they have been mad? Would they have hated him?

He would have loved to be in Hufflepuff, to be honest. They seemed nice, and most of them were very friendly to him whenever they studied together. Ravenclaw, he had a feeling, he would have felt slightly less at home in, but he still loved it when people would tell him interesting things. Slytherin would not have been an option for him. Many kids of death eaters had ended up there.

Besides, unlike his parents, he wasn't that ambitious, he didn't think so at least. He didn't really care for his fame; it had destroyed his family after all. He could see himself living happily out of the public eye, maybe settle down with some guy and have nothing to do with anything important, just living his life in peace.

But unfortunately, it wasn't likely that he would ever get that.

His life had been decided for him the night Voldemort came to their house.

What would his life have been like if it had never happened? Would he have joined Jennifer in muggle primary school? Would he have had friends? Or would everything still be broken, just in a different way?

A glance at the spaceship-covered clock told him breakfast would be ready soon. He had a sour taste in his mouth that he always got when he didn't get a wink of sleep, and breakfast didn't seem appealing to him whatsoever.

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