Charlotte Granger - Hermione's Twin

Chapter 1

Author's note:

Hello! This is my first story ever on WattPad, so I'm slightly nervous. I'm only 13, so please don't be too harsh with your comments. However, I appreciate any constructive criticism - especially pointing out any spelling/grammar mistakes as I'm writing on a tiny screen. Thanks!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Third person)

Charlotte Emma Watkins sat glumly on the bed in her aunt's spare bedroom. A suitcase packed full of essential items lay at the foot of the bed, spilling out various clothes that were more suited to the sunny days in New Zealand, rather than the misty days in a town just south of London, even if it was late June.

She had been looking forward to coming back to England, after her family had migrated to New Zealand for eight years. Now she was here, however, she was unsure what she should do. She would be starting Year 13 at Weldingham High after the Summer Holidays had ended, and after a glance at the black and white suit she was expected to wear every day, she decided that she wasn't looking forward to that.

Her current depression may have been due to the fact that most of her stuff was at the new family home, or maybe that she was suffering from jet-lag. The flight had taken 24 hours and Charlotte was still lying in bed, awake at night with stabbing pains in her stomach, or slumping drowsily on the sofa in the day.

Aunt Matilda was fairly nice, Charlotte thought, although she wasn't the sort of person you would want to live with - she did not read any books that Charlotte enjoyed talking about and tended to buy spinach and cabbage rather than apples and bananas. She could hear her warbling cry now, summoning Charlotte down to lunch. Sighing, she scraped her bushy brown hair into a ponytail and pulled on her thickest cardigan, before traipsing down the stairs.

"My dear, I was wondering whether you knew where your new house is? The postcode, perhaps?" Aunt Matilda asked, as she ladled leek and potato soup into two bowls. "Only, I wanted to send Matthew something."

"Erm..." Charlotte began, "I think it was near something that was something to do with Saint Otter...."

"St Otter? I haven't heard of that place dear, and I did do A level Geography." Matilda said.

"No, not St Otter... Otter St something... Otter St Pole-catch?"

"Ottery St Catchpole?" enquired her aunt.

"Yeah! Near there - well, not near, sort of far-near?" Charlotte babbled.

"What do you mean?" Matilda asked, now handing out a couple of slices of buttered brown bread.

"Well, it's about fifteen miles away?" replied Charlotte. "In a village called Bableworth... or something..."

Aunt Matilda decided to give up pursuing the subject at that point because of Charlotte's lack of knowledge of Britain's geography. It was funny, as Charlotte had been brilliant in all of her school subjects and probably knew every town in North New Zealand.

At that moment, lunch was interrupted by a ring of the doorbell. Lilac, Aunt Matilda's cat, decided that the mystery visitor might give her food, and rushed to the front door, pawing it frantically until Matilda decided to open it.

A woman with reddish hair and startlingly blue eyes tumbled into the house, knocking over a couple of pairs of shoes by the door.

"Hello... Ms Morris is it? Good, well, I need to talk to Charlotte. You are her current guardian, I understand? I have already talked to her parents, and they have agreed, I just need to confirm and explain to Charlotte. Is that all right?" the woman said, very fast.

"Yes... yes... of course." Aunt Matilda managed, before starting to leave the room, to give them some privacy.

"No - it's fine to stay in here, Ms Morris. I see I've rudely interrupted you in the middle of lunch." the lady told Matilda. However, Aunt Matilda said that she had to do some work for the Knitter's Group and lunch could wait. Besides, Lilac wanted feeding.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Charlotte's point of view)

I sat down on one of the armchairs that were dotted all around Aunt Matilda's sitting room. She had looked a bit embarrassed when the woman had come in, and was now eager to leave.

"Who are you?" I asked, as the woman sat down on the chair opposite.

"Herm-, I mean... Wotcha! My name's Nymphadora Tonks. Please call me Tonks though - I don't know what my parents were thinking when they named me..." Tonks replied.

I didn't agree with her - I thought the name Nymphadora was pretty - it suited her red curls. She laughed when I told her this.

"I don't think red's really my colour.... pink on the other hand...." Tonks chuckled. She screwed up her face in concentration, before her hair turned a bright bubble-gum pink.

"Cool!" I said, amazed at what she'd just done.

"I'm a metamorphmagus... It means I can change my appearance at will." she announced proudly, lengthening her nose as she spoke.

"Just like magic! Or is it magic?" I asked excitedly. I wished I could change my appearance at will. My brown hair was fine - apart from its bushiness. But I'd always wanted to see how I would look with blue eyes - brown eyes were so common. There was also the odd freckle that I had a love-hate relationship with. But they were here to stay.

"Well, it is magic." Tonks said, gently. "Only, a very rare branch of magic that is usually hereditary."

"Why are you telling me this? Isn't it all a secret or something? I mean, I've never heard of magic." I enquired curiously.

Tonks chuckled once again and explained everything about all of those bizarre things that had happened when I was younger.

The first time anything had happened was when I was very anti-pink and five years old. My grandma had just given me a whole load of pink dresses better suited to 1890, and I had managed to turn her shoes from pink to blue. She was a bit upset at that.

Then there was the time when I was eight, and the book I couldn't reach in the library flew off the shelf. And when I was nine, it was the dog biscuits - although, at the time I had had no idea why they had poured themselves into prissy Penelope's orange juice.

Now I came to think of it, there were lots of times when something strange had happened throughout my childhood - the lamp post, the nail varnish, the carrots (though that one was still a painful memory) and the fireworks, to name a few.

So, I was a witch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yay! I've finished my first chapter! It's a bit short, though.
When I started writing this, I was convinced that a story about Hermione's twin would be original - however, I see that there are already many! Sorry if I've used for ideas, but I didn't mean to.