Disclaimer: I do not own J.K Rowling's Harry Potter series, I just like to borrow her characters and play with them sometimes.

The Willemina and all its Properties, a story of Harry Potter fan fiction by the punchline.

It's Charlie Frazier's seventh year at Hogwarts, and she can't wait to get back to the Great Hall, the squashy armchairs, the exquisite meatballs, the magic, and most of all, her friends: the Marauders, the Ackerleys and maybe even Lily Evans and the rest of the Gryffindor girls. But of all the things Charlie expected from her final year, hiding behind a tapestry as her Arithmancy professor muttered nervously about Hula hoops, spending four dances in the arms of a Russian boy, venturing into the Forbidden Forest to find an antidote to a love potion she'd been slipped, finding herself arse over tits for Sirius Black, and then realising months later that the emotions she'd deemed side effects of said love potion might not be side effects at all… Well, they certainly weren't among them.

Rating: T, mature teens.

Genres: Romance/Humour, with friendship and later adventure.

Pairings: Sirius/OC, James/Lily, and a couple sidelines involving OCs.

Language: Infrequent use of the f-bomb. Though twice in this first chapter.

Chapter One – Some Snob Named Peculiar:

Thick! Charlie Frazier was unable to keep an excited smile from tweaking the corners of her lips at the sound of her school trunk locking. She gazed at it for a moment. Packed full of all her clothes, school robes, books and equipment; it was completely ready for a seventh and final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But was she?

Wistfully, she stood and crossed her bedroom to her desk, upon which lay several pieces of folded parchment, each fraying at the edges from being folded and unfolded so many times. They were letters from her friends at Hogwarts, sent over the course of the past two months of summer holidays. Charlie picked up the first letter and unfolded it once more, grinning not for the first time at the very sight of the spiky scrawl inked across it.

The letter was from Charlie's best friend and fellow Gryffindor Selwyn Ackerley. It told her of his family trip to see Puddlemere United play the Cannons in the League Cup, and the daily struggles of living with his one year younger sister, Mac. It's bad enough that she refuses to take down her Cannons posters (despite the fact that we absolutely thrashed them) but just the other day I saw that inept, uncoordinated joke of a beater Joey Jenkins, in all his bright orange glory, taking a swing at one of the gnomes in the landscape garden painting Mum has hanging in the kitchen. He missed, of course.

The next letter was from Mac Ackerley and told very much the same stories, but with more emphasis on the idiocy of her older brother. The small pile of parchment also contained letters from James Potter (Quidditch Captain AND Head Boy – that's what I'm talking about!), his best friend Sirius Black (stole both James' badges today – didn't cry as much as I'd expected him to), Remus Lupin (How have your holidays been treating you, Charlie? … Yes, mother's health is still quite unstable…) and Peter Pettigrew (Have you done that Charms assignment Professor Flitwick set us? Do you think you could owl me a copy?).

Just as Charlie finished skimming the last note, she heard her mother calling her from downstairs.


"I said, it's already five past nine! Are you going to say goodbye to Georgia-Rose or not?"

A quick glance at the clock on her bedside cabinet confirmed this jolting news, and Charlie swore before throwing the letters into a drawer (she wouldn't be needing them at Hogwarts), pulling on a sweater and hurtling out of her room.

On the way out of the house, Charlie passed the two bedrooms of her older brothers, Donnie and Sam. Donnie's room, much like Mac Ackerley's, was covered in posters of his favourite sporting team. But Donnie, unlike Mac, was a muggle; so his was plastered with the likes of Tommy Baldwin and Peter Osgood of Chelsea Football Club. The door to Sam's room was shut, just as usual. Being the eldest of the three children, he was renting an apartment in London, working for the Daily Telegraph.

When Charlie rang the doorbell of her childhood friend Georgia-Rose's townhouse, the time was nine-twenty-four. Her mother, Mrs Halloway, opened the door and with a warm welcome, ushered Charlie upstairs to Georgia-Rose – or Gee's – bedroom. She climbed quickly, despite the tickle of home sickness that was already settling heavily in the pit of her gut.

"Gee?" Charlie nudged open the door, and then –

"Oh!" she gasped with a laugh when Georgia-Rose, having been reading a magazine, threw it down and jumped up to envelope her.

"Gee…" she winced as the hug continued, unyielding. "Bones – snapping… Tits – numbing… Lungs – crushing!"

"Oh, shut up." But Gee released her, grinning like a guilty Cheshire cat.

They sat together on her bed, reminiscing of the short but sweet time they always had together in between school. Gee was a muggle who, not immediately related to Charlie, still didn't know of her childhood friend's magical abilities, and was under the impression that the fancy boarding school she disappeared to every year was just a strict, Nun-driven institution hidden away in the countryside of Scotland.

Charlie promised to write, as did Gee, and the two of them were giggling over the upcoming wedding of Gee's bodacious Aunt Dolly (of which she swore to send pictures) when Charlie glimpsed her watch face and realized she really couldn't put off her goodbye any longer.

Just as she was reluctantly getting to her feet, the doorbell rang throughout the house and Gee skipped over to her window to peer down at the front porch.

"Oh..." she frowned with confusion. "It's Rurik. What an odd time to visit…"

"Is this that Russian bloke you were telling me about? The one who moved into the house across the road last week?"

Gee's eyes lit up with cheek as she gushed, "Yes! Oh my god, Charlie, you won't believe how unbelievably beautiful he is – it's indescribable. I can't even – I swear, even you will have a hard time finding your words!"

Charlie joined Gee by the window to look down at the visitor, but it was too late; Mrs Halloway had already let him inside.

"Well anyway," she said, facing Gee with reluctance, "I better get going."

"Do you have to?" Gee pouted, feeling sorry for the both of them. Charlie giggled at her expression before nodding.

"I'm running late as it is."

They said their last goodbyes (Gee actually teared up a bit) and Charlie turned to open the bedroom door to leave – when it swung out and promptly smacked her right in the face.

She stumbled back and hissed, grabbing the bridge of her stinging nose.

Swearing, Gee grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around to have a look but Charlie bowed her head, furiously blinking back tears.

"It's nothing, Gee – it's fine –"

"I'm so sorry… Charl, was it?"

This was a new voice; one Charlie had never heard before but would have loved to hear again. The curbed, gravelly tone seemed to simply grate through the air with a politeness many boys lacked these days. The accent ('I'm zo zorry… Charl, vwas et?') was, although immediately detectable, not at all as strong as she would have imagined. The resulting voice was so intriguing, Charlie barely blinked before she looked up to see what beautiful creature could have expelled it.

And beautiful creature he was.

Now, Charlie wasn't really the romance type. She wasn't into the blushing, swooning, flirting, giggling and eye-lash batting business. Very rarely did she grow smitten over – or even notice – the colour of a boy's eyes or the way his muscles bunched under his shirt. A majority of her good friends were boys so it would be plain counter-productive if she spent her days noticing their various levels of attractiveness, or analysing every brush of their hands or glimmer in their eyes.

But good god, did she notice Russian Rurik's breathtaking level of attractiveness. Sweet Merlin, did her own hazel eyes widen at the brightest, bluest blue of his. Dear lord did her fingers itch to run through his neatly parted, soft, deep brown hair.

She very much almost sighed at the very sight of him.

"Charlie," her ears vaguely registered Gee correcting. "It's Charlie. Charlie – meet Rurik. He lives across the road."

"Hi," greeted Charlie after a moment of complete blankess. She flashed him a winning smile, despite the tears that still clung to her eyelashes and a nose that – no doubt – was swelling at an exponential rate.

Rurik shook her hand, blue eyes regretful yet warm as he apologised again for her injury.

"It's fine," Charlie dismissed, smiling as attractively as she could manage, "I've had worse."

Gee scrutinised her face with a grimace. "It's swelling pretty bad, Charl."

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" she growled, glaring at her nose before shaking her head decisively. "Well, I'm going to have to deal with it – I can't miss my train."

And with that, she hugged Gee one last time, gave a smiling wave to Russian Rurik and left the small English residence for Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

Charlie's trunk bumped against her heels painfully as she half marched, half stumbled through the swaying carriage of the Hogwarts Express. The train had already begun its journey to the castle, and Charlie had only just managed to get on it.

A particularly violent swerve of the train sent her flailing and her body slammed unceremoniously against a compartment door. The abrupt thud her face made on impact with the glass had the compartment's occupants whipping round to stare at Charlie in shock. But she couldn't have cared less about the unwanted audience as – dropping her trunk and letting out a delayed groan when it fell on her foot – she slid dramatically to the faded red carpet floor.

Her sore nose had begun throbbing again and she raised a hand to pinch it gently, scowling as she tried not to think about the expression on her muggle parents' faces as she haphazardly kissed them goodbye and ran head-first through a brick wall. Hardly the proper goodbye she'd been hoping for.

Choosing to ignore the titters that could now be heard from the compartment behind, Charlie leant her head back and cradled her face irritably in her hands. Hoping this first day returning to Hogwarts was not an omen as to how the rest of the year would progress, she expelled another woe-is-me moan.

She couldn't even find her friends.

"Can't you find your friends, Charlie?"

"Hmm?" she mumbled absently before letting her hands slide from her face. "Oh, no actually. I can't."

She peered up at Errol Camden, a skinny yet-to-go-through-puberty Ravenclaw with thin framed glasses and trousers pulled up to his rib cage. He sported a pair of ears that stuck out from his mousy brown hair in a rather confronting manner. When Charlie shot him a clumsy smile, he chuckled a wheezy, awkward laugh in return.

"Well, here – let me help you up." Errol shoved his hands in front of Charlie rather uncertainly and she smiled appreciatively before slipping her fingers into his. He seemed to have a little bit of trouble pulling her up, but that was okay because the awkward giggling cheered her up a fair bit.

"So, er, how were your holidays?" Errol asked as they moved down the Hogwarts Express, Charlie peeping into compartments every now and then in search of her mates.

"Oh – yeah," she replied distractedly, "they were fine. Yours?"

"Brilliant," Errol answered instantly, and started blabbering on about his last two months.

As he spoke, they passed another compartment and Charlie glanced into it, only to pause a moment later in shock.

No. It can't be.

She turned to check again just as Errol said, "Me and my brother found a Crambinkle-Poxed Toad and of course, we dissected it. It was great f –"

He caught the alarmed expression Charlie wore and trailed off, blushing a deep red until he rather resembled a beetroot.

"…But you don't want to hear about that. Huhuh," he laughed nervously and Charlie joined in, not prepared to deny it. They continued into the next carriage and Errol flinched and stumbled forwards a few steps as Charlie's trunk caught on his shoe.

"You know, I can get that if you want," she said hurriedly, moving to take it off him. "You should really leave that old thing to an expert…"

"No, no," replied Errol, regaining his balance but yet to regain his breath. "I insist –"


She turned at the familiar voice, a smile spreading across her face as she spotted James Potter at the very end of the carriage.

"Hi James!"

The bespectacled teenager, tall and handsome, strolled over and pulled her into a quick embrace, ruffling her hair as he did. Her yelps of protest were cut off as he caught a look at her face and winced.

"Blimey, your nose looks horrid. What are you doing way over here, anyway? We're all sitting a few more compartments down, that way... Hi, Camden." James nodded at Errol, flashing the friendly smile that Charlie knew a lot of girls swooned over. Errol returned it with less ease, his eyes darting around the carriage uncertainly.

Catching on to his obvious discomfort around the confident James, Charlie smiled and said, "Thanks Errol, you've been a massive help – but I think I've got it from here. I'll see you in the Great Hall, yeah?"

Errol nodded. "Yeah. Alright. See you."

James took Charlie's trunk and they made their way down the carriage, James smugly pointing out his two glinting badges as they did. Just as the pair were nearing the end compartment (inside which she could hear her friends arguing loudly), he came to a sudden halt. She walked right into him from behind.

"James!" She whacked his back after recovering from the collision.

"Shut it, Frazier," was his only response before stepping forward with a particular swag.

"Sara! Leonie! ... Lily." The last was greeted with a special emphasis that Charlie would only describe as seductive. Shameless, that Potter was.

Charlie peered around James' broad shoulders as Lily Evans approached them, Leonie Franks and Sara Cunningham flanking her.

There was no denying they were quite the beautiful trio, and it seemed their faces had only grown more striking, and bodies only become more shapely over the holidays. Charlie fought the envious pout that threatened to twist her face.

Lily Evans was the most self-assured of the three girls, with her fiery red hair and equally daring emerald stare. She was the kind of girl who represented the perfect apples at the top of the tree, thought Charlie, the ones that boys were too scared to pick in case they fell and scraped their knee. Leonie was less confident, hence why her smile was timid as she returned the greeting. Her hands were clutched in front of her and the perfect brown curls of her hair bounced about her shoulders with a flamboyant flare she herself lacked. Sara, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. Her jet black, straight hair hung down to her waist. She was the kind of girl who possessed a certain strut, with small lips, usually pursed into an intimidating pout, that were a pale pink against her even paler skin.

"Looks like our humble British summer has treated you girls well," James was saying, and Charlie would bet a galleon that if he knew how to wink without contorting half his face into unattractive spasms, he wouldn't hesitate.

"Now Evans," he began in a stern tone, "If you really want me to get off your back about that whole marriage and babies thing then you're going to have to ease up on all those holiday letters and love messages. Really, I almost drowned in the parchment! Mind you, it would have been a heavenly way to die, surrounded by your doting affection and what not. But in all seriousness, Lily flower. I'm beginning to think you missed me almost as much as I you." After a lengthy pause in which James' utilised his well practiced Smouldering Look, he smirked.

But Lily, who was well practiced in Smouldering Look Deflection, only narrowed her eyes and quipped with the same mocking sincerity, "Delusional. I have to admit Potter, it's impressive that you managed to hide that alarming symptom from the St Mungo's psychiatric ward. That absence is the only reason they discharged you... isn't it? It couldn't be because they just didn't have enough rooms to support that massive egotistic head, could it, because if it is, tell me now and I promise I will do everything in my power to bring justice. It's the ministry's fault really – simply not enough government funding!"

James grinned fantastically. "I'm rallying up a protest. If you join, I promise it'll be one hell of a date."

Lily rolled her eyes before turning her gaze to Charlie with a wry smile. "Hey Charlie."

"Hey! Nice to see you all back."

All four of girls erupted into pleasantries until eventually someone said, "Well, see you in the Great Hall."

As the trio passed, Sara eyed James with disgust.

"Potter," she sighed. "Close your mouth. Wipe the spittle. Come on now, have a little dignity."

"That's everyone, then, isn't it?" Remus Lupin observed minutes later, after Charlie and James had joined them. His perpetually tired, golden brown eyes swept the compartment's occupants and finished with Charlie, who sat beside her goodfriend Selwyn Ackerley.

"Everyone except Pete," said Mac Ackerley. Her dark brown hair was cropped short for a girl, but it suited her small, angular face well.

"Yup," said Sirius Black. "That's everyone."

He was lying on his back, taking up half the seat across from Charlie, with his long legs propped up against the wide compartment window. Hands folded beneath his head, his eyelids were drooping lazily as he gazed at the scenery that whooshed by outside.

Selwyn, a brawny Beater with short hair the same colour as his sister's, chuckled when he noticed Charlie's frown.

"Relax," he told her. "Pete's just gone to try and bribe the trolley lady into giving him her entire supply of pumpkin pasties for his two sickles."

"Mind you," said Mac, "He might be back if one of these boys went with him." She nodded at Sirius and James. "Or maybe Remus," she added, shooting him a meaningful glare.

Remus smirked. "No, it's always been Sirius she favoured the best. Ever since that pantyhose pasty incident. Isn't that right, Sirius?"

Sirius squirmed by the window. He frowned thoughtfully before sighing.

"Unfortunately lads, I think we've hit a bit of a rough patch in our relationship," he declared with a theatrical douse of despair. "She didn't even compliment my new haircut this morning. In fact, I rather doubt she's noticed… Doesn't quite look at me like she used to, you know?... The spark is gone."

This elicited a light chuckle from the group, from which no one could be bothered issuing a response.

"So," Selwyn began once the laughter died down. "Holidays?"

"As entertaining as Binns' attempts at stand-up comedy."

"Lily never once replied to my letters…"

"Selwyn and I watched the Cannons play Puddlemere in the Cup final!"

"Er – no, darling sister, what you and I watched was not a Cup final –"

"Does one of my legs look shorter than the other to you?"

"I saw the most beautiful specimen of man today..."

" – It was the warm up of the Quidditch legends of Puddlemere, during which they just happened to be handed the League Cup –"

"… I even tried to call her on her telephant."

"I've been brainstorming ideas for a Start of Seventh Year prank, boys."

"Hup – No, one of the socks are just pulled higher. Here, lemme just…"

"He's Russian. Precedes his w's with a soft v when he speaks..."

" –simply because the Chudley Cannons would not be sufficient competition even if they replaced every member of the team and got each new player to chug a gallon of Felix Felicis!"

"No good ones so far, but we'll think of something, eh? My wrist hurts."

"Shut up Selwyn, now you're just being rude. The Cannons put up one hell of a fight!"

"There we are. Fairly equal lengths now, aren't they?"


"Meanwhile, I'm sporting a nose as big and red as Rudolph's – which, by the way, was given to me by said beautiful Russian boy –"

"Yeah, fought hard just to get their bloody brooms off the ground, didn't they?"


"Some snob named Peculiar picked up and told me to – actually. I'd rather not repeat that. It was rather nasty."

"You're such a prejudiced git, Selwyn! I'm so sick of your –"


The entire compartment fell silent as its occupants turned to stare with hostility at who dared interrupt their civilised conversation.

It was Felicity Parkinson, and she stood in the threshold of the compartment with an impatient scowl and a brand new badge glinting in the centre of her chest. Tall, blonde and menacing, the Head Girl's authoritative gaze had every one of the teenagers shrinking back into their seats.

Sirius was the first to speak.

"Felicity..." he greeted warily as he slowly sat himself upright. "Hi."

Her gaze flicked uninterestedly to the corner where he sat and she heaved, as if having to return his greeting were a great inconvenience, "Hello Black, how was your summer?"


"Lovely. Where's Potter?" Her eyes latched onto James, who'd been sitting so close to the door she had to crane her neck inside to spot him.

"James!" She snapped. "What the hell are you doing? I've been waiting for you in the first carriage for over ten minutes!"

James raised his eyebrows at her and said, "Uh, no you haven't. I went up there ten minutes ago and now, correct me if I'm wrong – but I'm fairly sure you were preoccupied... What with Rick Davies' tongue down your throat and all..."

Felicity's eyes narrowed as Charlie and the rest of the compartment sniggered.

"Oh – no judgement!" said James in what he intended to be an assuring tone, "Davies is undoubtedly one fine hunk of man."

"Exceptional," deadpanned Remus just as Sirius muttered, "Can have my babies any day."

Felicity glared at James with pressed lips. "I don't know how Dumbledore expects you to be the leader of this student body. Now hurry up, the Prefects are going to be there for the meeting any minute now!"

But James wasn't listening, he was staring down at his two badges, rubbing at them determinedly with his sleeve. He shook his head, looking up at Felicity forlornly.

"No matter how much I shine them, I can never quite get them to sparkle."

Felicity's exasperated expression fast morphed into one of absolute disbelief. James jumped up quickly, teasing smirk in place.

"Only joking!" he said merrily, spinning her around and dropping his hands onto her stiff shoulders as he steered her out of the compartment. "I'm going to be the best Head Boy this school's ever had!"