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Beautiful Chapter Image by Anna_Black @ tda. 
Charisma Price



 





 

I was nine when my father brought me to the park. He sat me on the swings and went to read a book. When he looked up I had gone; in reality I was sitting on the roundabout, spinning in circles with the other kids, wishing so hard if only this thing could go faster. It soon span so fast one child threw up, another flew off of it and then the bolts broke, causing it to fly from its hold and slide across the park.

 

Dad didn’t look up from his book; he simply read and read until the last page was complete. He stood up from the bench and gazed across the park lightly for any sign of me. I had hidden beneath the slide with a cut knee; crying in hope that he would come to find me.

 

He didn’t come to find me; he went home.

 

He couldn’t find me. So he walked home, just assuming that I would turn up soon.

 

You see, most have family arguments. It takes many divorces and lies to screw up a family. But if you’re a Price, like me, it only takes a family, to screw up a family.

 

This story is one that would usually turn a person to tears, snot running from their nose and sobs erupting from inside them. Brushing my shaking hands over my thighs, I took in a shuddered breath.  

 

I did not cry.

 

I did not sob.

 

I did not blink.

 

I looked up at Harry. His eyes filled with sympathy. I straightened my back. “Where is he?” I asked boldly. Not one single emotion to my voice. “James Potter wanted to meet with my parents. I should go and tell him of their unfortunate cancelation.”

 

“Charisma, darling.” Harry said, breaking free from his wives hold and striding towards me. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

 

“Well if someone doesn’t tell him he’s going to wonder why they didn’t turn up.” I said bitterly. Harry took hold of my arm, knowing that I wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “It only seems fitting after all; the daughter get’s attacked by a werewolf, what a perfect way to finish off the parents.”

 

“Charisma, you don’t mean that.” He sat me down on to the couch. Albus ushered the Aurors from the room, in to the kitchen.

I sighed. “Yes, I do. Although, which wolf was it? I don’t know of any in this area.”









Ginny sniffed lightly and sat down on the other side of my. Not once in my life had I felt smothered by her presence, but at this moment, there seemed to be a first time for everything. “I don’t think you understand. They were only staying down the road. In the old hostel, the white cottage, with the Bed and Breakfast sign out the front.”

 

I scoffed. “It’s just like them, not to say Hi I mean. Although I guess it would be a little awkward after four years.”

 

Harry closed his eyes. “Charisma, the white cottage backs on to the forest outback, the one that you and Teddy use on full moons.”

 

“Yeah, so?”

 

Ginny bit back a sob. “Honey; you and Teddy are the only Werewolves in the area.”

 

I laughed crossly. “You mean, you can’t actually think … you, mean … I … Teddy?” With a gentle nod Harry stood beside his wife. She tried to place a loving hand on to my shoulder; I shrugged it off. “I didn’t do anything.”

 

Albus appeared back at the door, the quiet conversation of the aurors’ could be heard if I listened carefully. What was pounding in my head turned in to banging and I prayed that the nose bleeds wouldn’t begin again. I felt my ears pop and the room come in to focus once more.

 

“We can’t be sure.” Harry admitted with a solemn look upon his features.  

 

I furrowed my brows and practically hissed, “Excuse me?”

 

“We can’t be sure Charisma.” He repeated slowly and clearly. “None of us were with you.”

 

“Scorpius was with me.”

 

Harry sighed. “He didn’t know the procedure. James should have gone.” He punched the sofa. “I should have gone.”

 

“You,” I growled in a patronizing tone. “Shouldn’t have done anything, I am not a child, I am not a baby. Now I may not be able to control what happens to me sometimes-” a crack tore through my voice as it raised an octave or two “-but I am not a killer!”

 

“I am not suggesting you are Charisma.” He said politely. “I am only suggesting, that maybe Scorpius let yo-“

 

“Scorpius!” I screeched with an extra addition – a cry, a crack in my voice. I had been strong till now. I couldn’t break. I can’t break. I don’t break. Marching over to the stairs I almost ripped my nails off, not realizing I had gripped on to the sofa cushions with such a force. “Scorpius Malfoy!”

 

Harry stepped towards me, trying to take hold of my arm. “Charisma, maybe you should sit down, calm down a littl-?”

 

“NO!” I screamed, jumping from the stair and shoving him backwards. “No! No! NO!”

 

I couldn’t stop repeating myself.

 

I overturned the coffee table, sending it in to the fire. Ginny walked in to the kitchen while Harry stepped back and let me sink to the floor in shame.

 

I couldn’t have done it.

 

I couldn’t have killed my parents.

 

I gripped my hand in to a fist and let my nails cut in to my palms, if I could feel shock I would be sure that it would be over the fact that I felt nothing. I let myself cry, tears soaking in to the carpet as I pounded my fist against the carpet, my legs out beside me.  

 

Scorpius appeared at the bottom of the stairs, Evie and James shortly behind. “Chic!” Scorp shouted, jumping over the broken wood and running to my side. He wrapped his arms around me and rocked me backwards and forth.

 

“Oh, look-” A haughty voice sneered. “-it appears that someone isn’t so perfect after all.”

 

With a growl to my tone, I told her where she could go, with an obscenity that I wish I had never learnt.  

 

A tear fell.

 

I could practically hear her expression of disgust, “What did you just say to me?”

 

Scorpius rocked me, covering my ears with his hands. My cries had unintentionally reached an abnormal pitch as he tried to whisper calming words in to my ear. I reached out and pushed him away, wiping my dirty hand down his face, he simply took hold of my fingers and tried to keep me still.

 

“Charisma,” James breathed, leaping from the stairs and wrenching Scorpius off of me. I had no chance to rationalize my thoughts as my blurry vision was covered by James’ shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he pleaded. “I’m so, so sorry.”

 

I scraped my nails down his skin and tried to push him away, “You did this!” I cried, “This is your fault!”

 

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this!”

 

But my ears refused to hear any of it. I switched off and tried to rip whatever I could, my jumper, the buttons from his shirt, the carpet. “They’re dead,” I whimpered, “They’re bloody dead.”

 

I felt his lips press against my head, my skin burning and my hair itching beneath his touch. In that singular moment, all the anger, the frustration and the pain, it evaporated from his body and he simply felt pity. I could feel it from his gaze.

 

People moved around us, Harry ushering the others upstairs and sending people to different places in the house with an authoritative tone. Yet any action seemed lost on me; I pounded my fists against James’ chest, lashing out against my best friend.

 

My punches soon turned to slaps, pitiful effortless slaps. And he took every single one.

 

“I didn’t do it,” I sobbed quietly, a single breath became a word. “I couldn’t have done it.”


James took hold of my fists in the silent order to stop, “I know Charisma. I know that you didn’t.”

 

“I didn’t do it.” I told him, a blurry face through teary vision. “I didn’t kill them.”

 

I’m not dangerous.

 

I didn’t kill them.

 

I didn’t kill them. 

 


 






James Potter



 




 

The household was silent. For the first time since the war, Dad said, the household was silent. It was uneasy, horrid. A single step seemed to loud, and so people settled for staying still. Albus perched on the staircase, holding Lily tightly in his arms as she fumbled with the ends of her jumper.

 

Mum and Dad were in the kitchen, discussing with Kingsley and Sam what to do; they wanted to take Chic and Teddy away; they’re possible threats to the community. As a response, Dad has pointed to Charisma as she shook in my arms on the floor of our living room.

 

They wanted to take Charisma away.

 

They couldn’t do that, they just couldn’t.

 

I wouldn’t allow it, and I’m sure that a large part of me would be willing to throw myself in front of the aurors to make sure of that.

 

Charisma’s head lay in my lap, her hands balled around fist-full’s of the material of my trousers. The tears had stopped running from her eyes as she stopped moving. She hadn’t moved in over five hours, she simply lay there, staring, staring at my ceiling.

 

It wasn’t interesting, there were no patterns, no paintings or chips; it was simply a ceiling. Yet I’m sure that it’s a better picture than the life around her at this moment; Charisma was always one for wanting to escape – at this moment she needed it more than ever.

 

As days passed, no one mentioned her outburst, not a single word. Not in six years, through all of the shit, had Charisma Price ever broken, and in a single moment, her entire world crashed down around her and it all became too much. She just fell to the floor.

Her parents had passed and she could think of nothing else. She was easy to read, like a coloring book, one with crayons and chalk pastels.

I felt lost, she was alone, and I was lost. She was empty, her eyes emotionless, visions just replaying in her mind. No one could break her, no one could break it. She was like a rock, an eternal rock unable to move from nature. But this was the work of Mother Nature; this isn’t natural at all … this is the work of the Dark Lord.

 

Only he would put someone so sweet under so much pain.

 

That amount of pain in unreal, it can’t be real.









I don’t think that I can believe it.

 

I don’t want to believe it.

 

I’m not going to believe it.

 

Never, will I believe it.

 

When Lily came bounding up the stairs and in to the bathroom to tell me of their passing, banging on the door, her voice without emotion, I was unable to reply with much more. Her face had been drained of all colours, her eyes red and her lips swollen.

 

I couldn’t understand the words that poured from her mouth next, they seemed foreign to me, and Lily seemed to understand. I didn’t need to understand; I knew it was bad. Everything slowed down; not because of their death, not even because it was my fault, but because it was Charisma. Not one person deserved this any less than her.

 

Dad had mouthed to me from across the living room later that night. “Give her time.”

 

Time is the one thing I don’t have.









I know Charisma, better than anyone, but even I don’t know what to say to her. She’s an emotional wreck, a time bomb just waiting to be set off. And if anyone, I want to be the one to do it. I deserve this. I deserve this more than anyone.

 

I just want to grab her, hold her tight; tell her it’s okay and that this isn’t real. That we are still the childish twelve year olds that swung from trees and played in the old broken tree-house in my back garden, to tell her that I’ll be there for her, to look after her.

 

I wanted to hold her tight, to make sure she never left, and to make sure that I don’t lose her too. But I can’t; she doesn’t want me. She just keeps pushing me away.

 

She stirred in my lap; the first movement in over an hour. I stroked her hair and watched her eyes, not one blink. Not a movement, not a sound. We had been in the front room, sitting here for hours. The second movement, a sad smile. The third, a sniffle. The forth, a tear.













 

“Malfoy!” I hissed at the blonde child later that night, dragging him down the staircase by the sleeve of his t-shirt. “What the fuck happened that night?”

 

He furrowed his brows. “I don’t underst-“

 

“You!” I spat, “tell me now!”

 

He blinked and ruffled his T-shirt. “Tell you what Potter?”

 

I blinked. “I need a play-by-play account of the full moon.” I coughed a little, mainly out of nerves. “I should have been there. I can’t trust any one else to do that job - no offence.”

 

“None taken,” He admitted, taking a seat on the bottom step. I sat on the one above. “I’ve said it before but, tt’s unbelievable to think that Charisma can be that bad.”

 

I only nodded. “In our third year-” I began “-she scaled the side of the wall and attempted smashing a glass window that had appeared in the Room of Requirement. A boy in the year above, Richard Peirce, had decided to throw a potion over her the day before, she didn’t take it too well. She pushed me to the floor and punched me repeatedly; she kept shouting that she wanted me to die.”

 

Scorpius swallowed. “It’s so difficult, to see her like that.”

 

Nodding I patted his shoulder awkwardly. “How did she really get covered in mud – got bored and decorated her face, really?”

 

“She kinda mounted me later in to the morning. I rolled her off and she went mental, slamming her face in to the floor, crying and screeching.”

 

“I’m sorry, Malfoy,” I apologized. “I never thought that she’d ask you to…”

 

But I couldn’t finish. Fred was supposed to do it, the one who had done it before. He would have kept a hold of her. Scorpius said nothing, only stared at the floor. “Is she always that … sexual?”

 

I scoffed. “She can be – sometimes she’s more violent than … frisky.”

 

“It’s bloody terrifying.” He whispered. “I’m so afraid that if I blink she’ll run away and I’ll lose her.”

 

“Did you?”

 

With a shaky breath he let out a bitter laugh, “Only for a second, but I guess that was all it took.”

 

“We all make mistakes.” I tried to reason.

 

He punched the floor. “Yes, but most people’s mistakes don’t lead to the death of two people!”

 

“It was my mistake too.” I couldn’t admit to much more; the two of us – the two men that cared about her possibly more than any other people in the world, and we were actually discussing the reality that Charisma Price had actually murdered two people.

 

‘They were her parent’s’; Dad has tried to explain to me, ‘she would have been drawn to them’. I refused to believe him and knocked the tea pot off of the table.

 

Scorpius looked up at me, a pained expression on his face. “Then why weren’t you there?”

 

I blinked, I recognized the look he wore, the downward pull at the mouth, the creasing of the skin around the eyes, the disbelief – the inability to understand. “You went to her didn’t you?” I asked, ignoring his question, I couldn’t answer it. I just couldn’t. “She turned back, to Charisma.”

 

He nodded slowly, a little shock on his face. “For a matter of seconds, she was screaming; there was blood and she was crying. I just couldn’t take it.”

 

There was a long pause of silence where he picked at the carpet and I simply stared in to space. I wandered if he would pick a hold through the carpet, if I would be able to stare through the brick if I looked hard enough. Speaking with Malfoy under normal terms was hard enough; even looking at him now seemed to form a dull ache in my gut.

 

“Why does it happen?” he asked.

 

“Charisma’s strong.” I explained. “It’s gotten worse with age. She’s a fighter that little blonde; she can scrape through the first layers of the wolf’s dominance. Speak, control certain things – but she can’t remember any of it, the next day, she just-”

 

Scorpius sniffed. “She was sobbing, there was so much screaming.” He looked in to my eyes. “It hurts her so much to even gain that split second of control; so much pain for that tiny amount of self pity.”

 

I nodded slowly, making sure I showed no weakness. I refuse to cry in front of a Malfoy, in front of anybody. “Do you see why I need to get out?”

 

“Of the moon?” he asked. I noddedand tried to ignore the look of anger that grew upon his features. “All she mentioned was you - all night. When’s James coming back? I want James. I love James. James doesn’t love me. He’s not here.”

 

“She doesn’t know what she’s sayin-“

 

He bit his lip in frustration. “I don’t care what she does to you, how much you hate the moon, whether or not you’re even on talking terms at the next one. But you’re going to be there; you’re going to be the one that holds her while she sobs, or attempts to grab you. You’re going to be the one that picks up her clothes when she throws them about, to carry her back. It’s got to be you; because I’m out. I can’t do it again.”

 

That little shit thinks that I want to, he honestly thinks that I can stand to see her like that – to see my best friend scream for mercy, battle with herself so hard that blood streams from her eyes in the form of tears. He thinks that I can deal with that?

 

It’s the reason I miss the moons.

 

Because I can’t take it.

 





 

Charisma told Evie to leave; having simply had enough of everything and everyone around her, she went after the first person that she knew she could. I was sure that if we hadn’t held her back, she would have mauled my girlfriend.









“They were my parents.” Charisma replied bitterly “Don’t you dare talk to me...ever again actually.” 

Evie laughed out loud.  “Oh, ok. I’m sorry to have bothered you your highness.”









Charisma smirked; it was a smirk fit only for a Slytherin. “You should be. Now leave.” She opened the door, swinging it open with a simply flick of her wand.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Are you deaf now?” Charisma challenged, her eyes turning to slits. “I said leave. The door is behind you.” Evie blinked in shock. “You’re no longer welcome here.”

 

“J…James?” She stammered her eyed widened in shock, her tone pleading.

 

I simply left the room; if she wished to stay she could walk up stairs and stay out of the way of Charisma; it was obvious she wasn’t in the mood to be spoken to. Being around her was like stepping on cracking glass; you knew it was going to break, but you didn’t know when and then when it did … it would scar you for life.


“Get out.” Charisma hissed; she twisted her wand in her grip.  Evie missed the movement, I didn’t. “Or I’ll throw you out.”


 

Let’s just say she nearly did.









Evie has been my girlfriend for a few months. Charisma is my priority. Charisma is my need.  

She refused to attend the funeral. Only Mum and Albus went. Dad stayed here, just watching Charisma as she stared in to the fire’s flames, humming to herslef. I think he’s afraid that she’s going to jump in; one minute she’s smiling softly, a remenance of the smile she once had - but with no emotion behind it; a creepy reminder of what once was. But the next minute her world seems to crumble around her and she is left with nothing, it was always simple movements that set her off, the inability to open a jam jar, the frustration with the jammy door or the bathroom.  

 

I always hated her parents; the pain that they put Charisma through, the loneliness. The sight of my best friend sobbing in my arms is enough to fire anyone’s hate. But then came Chic’s Christmas wish. She asked for her parents. She mentioned it in Charms a while back. So that’s what I did. They were coming for Christmas. They were going to arrive on Christmas morning and take her out for the day.

 

It was all planned.

 

And then one of them killed her.

 

But which one.

 

Which one did it?

 

Charisma rose from the fire, standing up straight with a blank expression. She didn’t move for a moment … and then she turned. Looking me right in the eye. I was curled up on the sofa, my legs touching my chest and my knee lying off the couch; an awkward position, but a comfy one. Alike my Dad, I had been watching her, refusing to close my eyes incase when I opened them; she was no longer there.

 

I only stared back, attempting to ignore the fear in her eyes. She was scared. I thought that she would be, paranoid, angry, devastated. Not scared - never scared, not my Charisma.

 

She ran to me from a few feet away, diving herself in to my arms, lying down on the couch next to me, her posture now in a ball. We were curled up, tight. I pulled a blanket over her and looked out to the snow covered window.

 

“I’m done.” She muttered in to my shoulder.

 

I looked down to her with worried eyes. This was the first time she had spoken in days. “Charisma?”

 

“I’m done.” She echoed. “I’m done moping. I’m a Gryffindor; I have the heart of a lion.”

 

I chuckled. “And the modesty of Malfoy.”

 





 


An; Bonjour. So … what did you think? This chapter was a quickly written follow on from the previous one, the ending of that one was changed completely from the original plan. I attempted to incorporate as many ideas as possible from the awesome reviews. But I didn’t manage to get all of them in but I did my best.

I just wanted to thank all of the readers for this chapter. The amount of reviews that I received on the last one completely made my day. 

I would be eternally grateful if you leave a review. I'd worship you and everything. XD








 

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