prologue out of the hair

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SOMEWHERE IN THE PICTURESQUE LANDS OF THE SCOTTISH COUNTRYSIDE, in a city by the name of Thankerton, a moderate cottage exists overlooking the precious Thankerton bridge and the even more breathtaking River Clyde, flowing smoothly with a twinkling gleam. It just so happens to be the house Valerie Carmichael spent the latter part of her childhood in, having lived in Central Glasgow for her first 16 years, her Scottish parents then deciding they wanted some peace in one of the quieter, smaller cities for Valerie and her younger brother Douglas. (Glasgow was by far not a humble place.) Her parents have reclaimed the old house back in Glasgow, though: a four-bedroom bungalow with two livingrooms and two bathrooms. It often happens to be that Valerie, along with her two children Jeremiah and Avery, would go back to the house in Glasgow on the weekends they knew that Celtic would be playing in their home stadium, as Thankerton wasn't the nearest to Parkhead Stadium. And anyways, it gives her a chance to visit her parents and for her kids to see their grandparents. (Valerie had been a born-Celtic fan, and she obviously had to keep the tradition going with her children. She even had their middle names after some of the most notable players!)

The grass on the banks surrounding the Clyde bear the finest colour amalgam of fern and olive green, and during summers in Thankerton they're seen to compliment both the bank of clear water it surrounds and the vibrant blue sky it basks under. During this time, people are often seen to be relaxing out by the bank, with their trousers rolled up and feet dipped into the cool waters, saving them from burnout of one of Scotland's summer heatwaves. (Scottish weather is never the nicest, but there's often a spot in the summer period where the sun hits just perfect.) One of Avery Carmichael's finest memories on the grassy banks beside the Clyde is when her petite 10 year old legs had perhaps enjoyed being immersed by the brush of the cool liquid a bit too much, that she'd been close to falling inside the Clyde, had a 14 year old Jeremiah not came and hoisted her quickly out by the underarms.

A couple of miles' walk away there's a farm that the three Carmichael's, and sometimes Uncle Douglas too, would take a stroll towards on a nice day. The farm is further up towards the area just before the mountains start, and the walk is the opposing way to where the Clyde flows. It is in this farm, owned by a lovely neighbouring family called the McKinnie's, where Avery and Jeremiah Carmichael learnt how to milk a cow and feed baby goats. They absolutely loved trips to the McKinnie's farm and went there so often during the summers, and they had a daughter the same age as Avery, called Eleanor, who they could play with too. Life in the countryside served them well, and that's not the least of their Scottish life when you consider they still take visits to Glasgow to cheer on their favourite football team.

The cottage in which the Carmichael's stayed in had had a bunch of fine work done to it. Since Valerie's parents moved out and back to Glasgow, she'd spent many hours painting the roof a deep purple colour, (she used magic when her neighbours weren't looking - lucky for her they were never that intrusive) cleaning the moss off the rocks that made up the main body of the cottage, and reapplied the black paint to all the edges and posts leading to the door. She loved her handiwork to the outside of the house so much, that she'd begun planting many beautiful plants in both their front and back garden, cosmos, fountain grass and Busy Lizzie's alike, and the house became a truly warming place to be in in this era and time. There was a living room with a cozy fireplace and armchairs seated all around, from which Valerie had told her two children many stories accompanied by hot chocolates about her times growing up in Scotland and seeing her dad get into a fight with a Rangers supporter one Old Firm match, her mother taking her by the arm firmly and protecting her 15 year old eyes from something she shouldn't have to see.

(Quick Scottish football crash course: Celtic and Rangers are one of the most competitive footballing rivalries to ever exist, and are both two of Glasgow's football teams. Perhaps the biggest teams in Scotland. The match in which they both play each other is known as one of the rowdiest and atmospheric games in world football and is known as the 'Old Firm' derby.)

Avery Carmichael's room was the second room to the left hand side up the stairs. It was a moderate, box-shaped room that was perfectly Avery. Filled with books, trinkets and decorative plants, her room was an assortment of the colours pale pink and coral and sage and fern. Her bed was situated against the wall in front of her mirror-embellished wardrobe and a small window existed adjacent to both pieces of furniture, draped with a curtain of the colour sage that when removed gave way to the front side of the Carmichael cottage and a crisp view of the Thankerton Bridge and River Clyde. There was a beige cable-knit throw on Avery's baby pink double-bed for nights when it was too warm for a duvet, and the occupied space besides Avery's wardrobe was her desk, a miniature bookshelf hanging off of the wall above and with small boxes and drawers crowding the space around. And in spontaneous spots, there were multiple picture frames illustrating the life of Avery Carmichael's, whether it be the one of eight year old Avery and Jeremiah at Ayr Beach on a sunny summers day, grinning proudly beside a majestic sandcastle or of Avery riding one of the McKinnie's horses (it was grey and his name was George and had practically grown up with Avery - she adored that horse more than any other that they owned), and even more so the picture of Avery sitting happily in her Uncle Douglas's juniper Audi Quattro besides the young man of slender figure and hearty stubbled face, toothy smiles and all.

And there, lying in between the pale duvet with her head propped upon many pillows, slowly sinking more and more into the inadvertent pillow-pile, Avery Carmichael was unconscious from reality and into a fantasy world of her very own. Whether she be dreaming of a land where pancakes exist for breakfast, lunch and dinner or a place where  Severus Snape is facing mortal peril, Avery seemed to be having a good night sleep. Perhaps it was to do with her excellent exam results too, maybe. But then came the knock, and all fantasies were diminished.

The sound of a harsh rapping against fragile window glass had awoken Avery Carmichael from a blissful nights' sleep. The knock was violent - so violent that if whatever was hitting it had hit the window any harder, that the strength of the transparent material was sure to have its properties tested. Nonetheless, there was only one thing that Avery could have guessed had made that noise and could wake her up so abruptly, yet it didn't make sense at seeing an owl other than her own hazel-coloured Oban perched upon her windowsill. And it was growing more and more impatient, and seemed to take great joy in terrorising the poor window.

     "Alright, alright, I'm coming. Try not to break my ruddy window, would you." She huffs grudgingly, yanking her duvet away from her body and sliding her feet out of her bed with much incoordination - so clumsily that she'd bumped her head on her nightstand in doing so. Ouch, she thinks, holding her hand to her head as she got to her bared feet and trudged along the carpet of her bedroom door to her windowsill. As soon as Avery had opened her window and untied the letter from the owl's ankle, it flew away rapidly. "Don't stay for tea, then!" She yells sarcastically after it, but piped down when she noticed a couple of her neighbours peeking out their windows bewilderedly for her yelling after an owl. Whoops.

     Tending back to the letter delivered to her in the precious hours of morning, she noticed it had the Hogwarts seal imprinted on the back, and came to the realisation it'd just be her book list for the upcoming year; her final year at the magical boarding school. A part of her ached at the thought of this, because Hogwarts was her home. In the last 6 years, she'd made friends there, she'd learnt there, she dated guys, she had her heart broken and she'd broken some hearts too. And not to mention: the food at Hogwarts is gorgeous. And now she only has one last year to bask in the luxuries of Hogwarts and deal with the immense stresses of exams that she just knows she'll miss when she moves on.

     Avery unseals the envelope, and plucks out the letter within, and her eyes traverse through the cursive handwriting entailing what books she would require for the following year like it always did, but, when she'd reached the final two paragraphs she felt like she was either about to scream or faint. In this case, she did neither, and as soon as she picked up her dropped letter (out of disbelief of course; her hands were shaking), she ran out of her untidy bedroom with her even more untidy bunch of strawberry blonde hair falling out of its ponytail, and her feet patters along the cold floorboards into the kitchen, where Valerie Carmichael was busy making pancakes on the stove.

The older woman turned away from the burning fire, slowing it down so that her marvellous pancakes would not be ruined and looked to face her daughter, whose face looked panicked if not shocked amidst her frantic running.

"Aves?" Valerie enquires, looking at the crumpled letter open in Avery's trembling hand. "Is everything alright? You look like you've just seen a ghost–"

"Mum." Avery says, inhaling through her nostrils. "I got Head Girl."

Valerie's mouth drops open, interrupting the wide smile that was progressing. Her daughter got Head Girl? That was amazing - Outstanding, even! Either way, Valerie could not fathom what would make Avery look so paled at the news, though. She was Head Girl!

"Aves, that's fantastic!" Valerie exclaims, enfolding her daughter into a gut-crushing hug. "We have a Head Girl in our house! And a Ravenclaw one, at that! You're really doing our family proud, Aves!"

Once Avery managed to wriggle herself out of her mother's strangling grasp, she looks at her mother's smiling face with the same bewildered expression she wore before.

"Is Jem up yet? We need to tell him! Jeremiah!" Valerie looks back to Avery after having beckoned her son, and frowns at the sheer panic in Avery's face. "Aves - what's wrong? Aren't you happy?"

     "Mum..." Avery starts, taking the closest seat at the kitchen table, "I don't know why I'm Head Girl. I shouldn't be Head Girl. I'm not fit enough to be one, I–"

     "—You're Head Girl?" Drowsily entering the kitchen was Jeremiah Carmichael, fair-haired, muscly-armed and clad in nothing but his pyjama joggers. He stopped midway rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as his eyes widened massively, before breaking out into a large grin. Ignoring the look his younger sister was giving him, Jeremiah went forward and lifted her out of her seat, hugging her close to his bare chest. "Well done, Aves!"

Being able to no longer bear these congratulations for something Avery didn't even want, she went to pry herself away from her brother's strong arms, sinking back into her chair.

"Don't congratulate me, Jem." She huffs, slouching. The corners of Jeremiah's mouth sunk. "I don't want to be Head Girl."

     "Why not?" Jeremiah frets, taking the seat adjacent to Avery's at the table. "I would have loved to be Head Boy. I only ever got to be a Prefect, though."

    "That's the thing - I wasn't even a Prefect! I have no idea why I was made Head Girl. I shouldn't be Head Girl - I'm not made to be one! They're all perfect and flawless, and I'm not perfect and flawless - I can't be Head Girl."

     "But why don't you want to be Head Girl?" Valerie asks. "It's an amazing opportunity, you'll only get this chance once -"

     "Mum, I wanted to enjoy my last year at Hogwarts!" She interrupts. "I wanted to party, have fun with my friends, give myself another chance at boys - not spend all my time taking charge of students and Prefects! It's so much responsibility and I'm just not... meant for it!" Avery sighs, putting her face in her hands on the clothed table.

     "Oh, Aves." Valerie sighs, rubbing Avery's back soothingly. "You can still do all those things, though! Even though it's another responsibility onto your schoolwork, I know you can still make time for your fun." She smiles, before adding, "You're Avery bleeding Carmichael! You can make do with anything."

     Avery lifts her head slightly, raising an eyebrow at her redhead mother.

     "Not to mention," says Jeremiah, smiling encouragingly, "not only are you Avery bleeding Carmichael, but you're the bleeding Head Girl! I'm beginning to feel you might end up being more impressive than I was in Hogwarts." He says, giving her a teasing poke in the ribs.

     Avery scoffs, smiling up at her brother. "Please. I'm always going to be more impressive."

"There's the smile," Jeremiah grins, prodding the dimple in her cheek. He scans over the letter hanging from Avery's hand, and notices a small lump in the envelope held behind it. He reaches into the envelope and pulls out a badge labelled Head Girl on a blue background - for Ravenclaw, obviously. He held it up to Avery's face, "Well, this will look good on you, Aves!"

Taking the blue badge from her brother, Avery overturned the badge in her hand, grimacing as she did so. I really am Head Girl then, aren't I?

"Oh, quit with that look, Aves! You're the freaking Head Girl of Hogwarts! And you're complaining about it! Anyone who isn't you would be over the moon, you know. Of course you of all people wouldn't be happy at getting Head Girl."

Avery sighs, inhaling through her nostrils. "You're not wrong... I can't change it, anyways. I guess.. I really am Head Girl." She ended by smothering a groan in her hands, while Jeremiah laughs and Valerie grins.

"Oh! I just remembered." Valerie says, shooting a finger in the air. "Your acceptance letter came — you got a place in the Magizoology course in Norway for next year!"

"What?" Avery's mouth drops wide open, as she went to rip the letter her mother had so carefully retrieved from the top of the refrigerator. She scanned the contents of the letter, courtesy of the Ministry itself, and felt herself overcome in elation as she, this time willingly, jumped into her mother's arms. "Thank Rowena!" She embraces her brother too, before dropping back onto her seat and rereading the words of the letter, a smile tugging on the corners of her mouth. She would be able to follow her dream path — Magizoology.

"Of course, it's only under the condition that you get all O's in your N.E.W.T's this year, especially Care of Magical Creatures and Charms." Valerie reminds Avery. "But who's to say a clever cookie like you wouldn't do so anyways?"

     As her mother plates up some pancakes and slid them across the table, one to Avery and Jeremiah respectively, Avery sighs as she looked down into her plate, filled with fluffy pancakes. "Yeah, I suppose so.. I can't wait to see Dom again, though. Apparently she had a Grease-style summer romance with some Muggle in Barbados?"

     "What, Grease?" Jeremiah looks up from his plate, gulping down a mouthful of pancakes. "That really cringe Muggle movie?"

     "Grease isn't cringe!" Avery retorts. "Okay, maybe a little. I'm more of a book romance person. Nutella?"

    "Thanks," Jeremiah quips as he accepted the jar of Nutella outstretched in his sister's hand. "What is it with you girls and far-fetched romance stories? I swear, I can't get Alice away from the rom-com movies when it's movie night. She throws a hissy fit whenever I even suggest watching Star Wars. It's pathetic!"

     "That is so misogynistic, Jer! Not witty at all." Avery huffs, pointed her fork in his face threateningly. "And you're suggesting girls don't like Star Wars? Not cool either. Besides, I've seen you shed tears at some of the movies I watch. Don't even deny it."

     "Okay, so the movies are emotional. Big deal. That doesn't stop them from being unrealistic and cringeworthy —"

     "Can you two shut it and eat your breakfast?" Valerie calls out to the bickering siblings, settling herself down onto her seat with her own plate of pancakes. "You said Dominique found a guy on holiday?"

"Yeah, this Muggle, Alonso or whatever his name was. She was proper infatuated. But, like you do say, it was only a holiday fling and he lived in Spain anyways. She'll move on from him soon enough." Avery explains, excessively adding more chocolate spread onto her pancakes.

———

"ANOTHER HEAD BOY IN THE HOUSE! That's marvellous!" Molly Weasley's morning cheers erupt through the entire Weasley household, grudgingly waking those who'd not previously been awake with her voluminous voice, as she'd smothered her second-oldest son in a bone-crushing hug, weeping as she did so. The yell had been so loud, that it had disturbed the magic running the dish-washing momentarily, appearing to shudder — as far as inanimate objects can shudder — before continuing to scrub the remainder of a grubby plate.

"Thanks, Mum." Charlie Weasley's face grew redder from underneath his mother's strangling grip, grinning bashfully as more of his many red-haired family members came into view.

"Did I hear you correct? Little Charlie is Head Boy?" Arthur Weasley beams, coming around to clap his son on the shoulder.

"I'm not that little, Dad." Charlie fusses, though unable to stop smiling. He was Head Boy! He picked up the letter that had dropped itself onto the floor after Charlie had been attacked into a hug by his mother.

     Bill Weasley comes down the stairs in his bathrobe, grinning too. He'd heard his parents' cries of happiness from all the way upstairs. He wraps his arm around Charlie's neck, putting him in a loose chokehold, rubbing his knuckles in Charlie's red hair.

     "Baby bro is Head Boy! Who would've thought!" Says Bill, as Charlie fought his way out of Bill's grip, shoving his arms aside. Bill smiles. "Well done, Charlie."

     "Thanks, Bill." Charlie replies, staring at the red Head Boy badge lying on the wooden counter. Molly is still crying.

     "This calls for a celebratory dinner!" Molly says, wiping away the last of her tears. "What would you like, Charlie dear? Anything you want! You're Head Boy!"

     Charlie smiles at his mum's insistence. He seemed to be doing a lot of that smiling today, and it wasn't even ten o'clock yet.

     "A roast'll be fine, Mum." Charlie says. "Oh, and could you make some tiramisu too? You haven't made that in an absolute age!"

     Molly smiles, before walking over to pat Charlie's cheek lovingly. "Of course, dear. Anything! I'll get started on it right away!" And then, Molly Weasley bustles off into the kitchen. The twins Fred and George file into the living room, followed by Percy, each carrying their own Hogwarts letters. Percy would be going into third year, while Fred and George were starting first year. Ginny and Ron, not yet of age to go to Hogwarts, also came into the room looking heavily exhausted.

     "Morning." Percy says. "We got our letters - is that the Head Boy badge?!" His eyes darted to the badge Charlie was toying around with happily. Charlie looked up at his younger brother, grinning, and nodded. "Merlin's beard!"

     "Charlie's Head Boy." Bill clarifies, as if it wasn't already obvious. Percy looked in awe, while the twins still seem unfazed. Ginny and Ron looked confused, with squinted eyes at being too young to know exactly what the role of Head Boy was.

"Like we expected anything else," Fred says, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, go polish your badge or something. Let's go find something more exciting in the house, Fred." George adds, before he and Fred return to their bedroom. Charlie chuckles in their exit.

"Do you have any idea who the Head Girl is?" Bill asks. They realise everyone else has either left or gone back to their beds; either way, it was just Bill and Charlie in the living room now.

Charlie shakes his head. "No idea. Hopefully I get on with her, whoever she is."

     Bill grabs an apple from a fruit bowl nearby, taking a swift bite out of it. "Me and the Head Girl were the best of friends, back when I was Head Boy. It made the experience so much better," He says. "Oh and also, did you know you two would be sharing a dorm to yourselves, too?"

     "Oh?" Charlie asks, perking up an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

     "Uh-huh." Bill confirms, his mouth filled with apple. "I loved the Heads' dorm. The bed was so much more comfortable than it ever could have been in the Gryffindor dorms. There's also a kitchen, and you each have separate showers. It's great." Bill grins. "Proud of you, little bro."

     It was then in that moment that, grinning to himself, Charlie Weasley had the premonition he was really going to enjoy the upcoming school year.

***

there's the prologue for u!! i hope u guys liked it, i dont necessarily tend to do prologues for any of my stories but i felt like it was kinda necessary for this one tbh. i'm trying to make my chapters a decent-ish length (so like at least 3000 words) and for a prologue this was 3600, so not bad.

also, charlie and avery are gonna have quite a slowburn relationship since we can already see charlie's enthusiasm and averys unenthusiasm (that isn't even a word smh) so yeah!!

i'm proper excited for this, make sure to vote and comment cos ghost reading makes me sad!! thank you guys for supporting me in every way you do <33

— saar xx