Charlotte, Mary’s guardian and great-aunt, carries a legacy of witchcraft shaped by her tumultuous past. A once-promising student at Endor College, she stood out for her long crimson hair and scholarly brilliance, culminating in her discovery of the Fly-By-Night flower—a botanical rarity prized for its arcane potential. Her choice to entrust the specimen to mentors Madam Mumblechook and Doctor Dee backfired when their reckless experiments to amplify human magic obliterated the college’s lab. Fleeing with the surviving seeds, Charlotte narrowly escaped Mumblechook’s pursuit and an explosion that strewed the seeds into a wooded village border, severing her ties to witchcraft for a reclusive, mundane life.

Now gray-haired and clad in retro ankle-length dresses, her sharp red glasses framing watchful eyes, Charlotte embodies quiet resilience. She shares a rural home with Mary and a housekeeper, her nurturing warmth shadowed by lingering guilt—evident when Mary’s disappearance sparks frantic terror, then tearful relief. Yet her past lingers in a distant island cottage, where spellbooks gather dust beside a mirror that channels visions to guide Mary through peril. Through these spectral messages, Charlotte recounts her college downfall, imploring Mary to shun magical shortcuts and embrace self-reliance, though her own mastery of spells remains undimmed.

Her journey—from idealistic scholar to protective guardian—mirrors the Fly-By-Night seeds sown in disaster, now dormant in the wild. By forsaking power for simplicity, she shields Mary from the ambitions that once consumed her, anchoring their bond in hard-won wisdom over witchery.