beautiful dreamer

prologue

    one day

            soleil

               you will set the world on fire

Dreams were something Charlotte Greene struggled with.

Insubstantial thoughts and wishes, wisps of smoke in your mind that faded as soon as you woke up. An entire world, just behind the curtain, ready to be shown.

It scared her.

She was used to the whispers and feelings and flashes of the future that came with being a prophet. Vague emotions picked up from those around her, a brief voice in an empty room. Being a prophet meant seeing into the threads of the universe, an ether that held everything that ever was, is, or would be.

Dreams were when she was most vulnerable. Her mind and magic had worked to build up a protective barrier, filtering away the strands people left everywhere without knowing they did so. Of course, not everything was kept out (more often than not, she could see much clearer than she would like), but it was enough to prevent her from being immobilized by visions all day. When she dreamt, however, that barrier was as helpful as being mansplained to about one's job. Anything could get through; and would.

Charlotte had spent many a sleepless night doing anything in her power to stay awake. Her older brother, Oliver, would send her long letters filled with stories from his time at Hogwarts. Her mother would allow her to spend hours in the kitchen, baking and baking. She drank coffee until she was sure there was a permanent buzz in her veins and did her best to keep her eyes open.

But there were times when nothing was enough, when sleep had been put off for too long and crept up on her, dragging her down into a haze of visions and moments in time.

There, a girl standing in front of a crib, begging the shadowy figure in front of her to take her life instead of her baby's.

There, a brother and sister, screaming as their world was blown apart by a million explosions.

There, a boy standing shakily on a broken leg and telling something in front of him that they'd have to fight him to get his best friend.

On September 1st, Oliver Greene stood with his sister on platform 9 ¾, watching her carefully. He wasn't scared of her—Oliver had never been scared when it came to Charlotte. He was worried, though. Their mother hadn't wanted her to go to Hogwarts, scared it would be too much for her, and only after months of pleading and reassuring had she reluctantly agreed. He wondered now if it was the right choice.

"You alright, Char?"

"Lot of people. Lot of emotions," she muttered, hands clenched at her sides. Her eyes darted around, seeing things he couldn't imagine. "A blond boy and a stormy night and a mistake he can't take back. He doesn't want to, but someone he cares about will die unless he does."

Oliver followed Charlotte's gaze down the platform but couldn't see who she was talking about.

"I think he'll end up okay," he said gently.

"They never really do, Oli."

"But they're better than before, and that's what matters sometimes."

"It's never the same."

"That's time for you, mon feu," he said, using his pet name for her.

"Are you sure you can't come with me?" she asked, looking up at him. She was scared; he could tell in the way her hands shook.

"I would if I could, Char. But I'm 18 now; I have to move past school. They can't keep me at Hogwarts forever."

"They could if you were a teacher," she pointed out.

He smiled. "The Ministry's already signed me up for auror training. Plus, I don't think teaching's for me. You'll have to do it alone." He glanced at the train, then back to her. "You ready, mon feu?"

"No."

Oliver knelt next to her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "What does Mum always say?"

"'Leave the cooking to your sister?'"

"Charlotte..."

"'One step at a time until you see the light.'"

"You got this."

"And if I don't?" she whispered.

"Then you'll make a lovely troll under a bridge."

"Really helpful advice, Oli. Truly inspirational."

"Go on, Char."

She hesitated. "I'm running away if this goes horribly."

"It won't."

"I'll become a muggle fortune teller."

Oliver chuckled. "You'll never know until you try."

Charlotte breathed out, slowly. "Okay."

And thus, our story begins.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

YESSSSSSS, I'M BACK!!!!!!!! Hello to everyone who reads the author's note! I wrote this listening to the hazbin hotel soundtrack and I'm very tired, but my friend said it was good so here. Two rules:

1. No hate because that's not cool >:(

2. Ghost readers are a certain type of aesthetic, one I don't have. I don't really care either way, but it's super cool to comment (or so I've heard) so like......

Anyway, enjoy! Weekly updates unless something happens :D