Hey, peoples!
I've been wanting to do this fanfic for a long time; after I read all the fanfics about what it'd be like if Harry Potter was a girl, I decided to make an original one- not like those stupid ones which only replace the "he" by "she". It's going to be good, down-to-earth, and I'll try to make it as awesome as I think it'll be. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!
. . .
Charlie Potter lay awake in her cupboard, curled up like a cat as she tried to get some rest.
She was quite certain she'd been laying there for a few hours, and judging from the weak sliver of morning light that came from the slight crack in her cupboard, she assumed it must've been at least four o' clock in the morning.
It seemed like all her nights were like this: sleepless, exhausting, and simply pathetic. Her eyes were never bloodshot, but there were well-defined bags under those vibrant green eyes each day. And as usual, her aunt and uncle didn't care.
They resembled some kind of pig that mated with a horse, and they were the result. Aunt Petunia had beady eyes and a thin, black-ish mouth, and with her large teeth and long neck, she resembled one of those ugly horses you'd see at a cheap petting zoo. Uncle Vernon wasn't better; he had a fat figure, a chubby neck so thick that the plump tree growing outside the front yard couldn't compare. And Dudley, their son, was even worse- fat, red cheeks, small watery eyes, and he was so fat he looked like a beach ball with blonde hair, Charlie often noted.
But Charlie was different from them.
In fact, you would think they were from alien planets. Charlie was thin, with knobby knees, bright green eyes, long, disheveled black hair that fell all over the place, a playfully thin mouth and pale skin that looked sort of like bluish snow, but in a good way.
She was pretty, true, but her eyes were framed by large, oversized, round silver glasses, and she was constantly wearing baggy boy clothes that were hand-me-downs from Dudley, or old dresses that Petunia used to wear when she was her age.
The only thing she liked about herself was her scar.
It was a lightning-shaped scar on her forehead, usually hidden because of her long bangs. She never quite knew how she got it- all she knew was that it had seared her head the day of her parents' death, due to a severe car accident.
Parents. Mum. Dad. The words were so alien yet so completely familiar it made her dizzy. Her mind was clear of any early memories of her deceased parents, and all she could remember were some green eyes looking into her own; a warm smile and a kiss to her forehead. She knew it was weird to love some-one she never knew, but there was an ache when she thought of them.
A heartbreaking ache that usually tore her to bits and pieces.
Suddenly she broke out of her thoughts by a shuffle and a huge moan that came from upstairs. She quickly shut her eyes just as Aunt Petunia whipped open her cupboard door. "Up- get up!" She scowled, and Charlie pretended to stretch as she sat upright in her dark cupboard. "UP!" She screamed once more, sounding like a banshee than anything, and walked to the kitchen for a moment, where Charlie could hear the distinct sound of a frying pan clashing with the stove.
She frowned and stared back up at the ceiling. What was she dreaming about before? She vaguely remembered a flying motorcycle and a flash of green light. "Are you up yet?" Aunt Petunia's head poked in, and her beady eyes narrowed at Charlie.
"Nearly," She responded.
"Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn," She glared for a second, and then continued. "I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday." With that, she slammed the cupboard shut.
Dudley's birthday, Charlie remembered with a groan. How could she forget?
She sighed as she began shuffling around under her bed to look for a pair of socks. After plucking a spider off of them, she slipped them on and popped out of the cupboard, not even bothering to take off the spider web clinging to her left sock. She was used to them, seeing as the cupboard under the stairs was filled to the brim with them, where she slept.
Mumbling under her breath, she walked to the kitchen, where Dudley was already brightening the day with his whines. In fact, his face was almost entirely hidden with piles of birthday present. Looked like he got the new computer he wanted- not to mention the racing bike, though Charlie wondered why he would even want it, seeing as though the only exercise he did was to roll around in his sleep, and to lift his fist to punch an unsuspecting victim.
Of course, his favorite punching bag was Charlie.
He couldn't catch her no matter how hard he tried, though. Even though she didn't look like it, she was quite fast. Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard all her pathetic life, but Charlie had always been small and skinny for her age.
Uncle Vernon suddenly walked into the kitchen, barked a "Comb your hair" to Charlie in place of a "Good morning", and then plopped at the table and began to read his newspaper.About three times each week, Uncle Vernon would saunter into a kitchen, looking as though a stick flew up his butt, and shouted Comb your hair to Charlie. She remembered a horrific time of Aunt Petunia struggling with her hair, but she had finally given up when Charlie was about seven. Once, she even cut her hair off, leaving her long bangs to hide her "ugly scar". Charlie had spent half the night twisting around in bed, thinking of how the kids at school would jeer at her when they saw her.
But the next day, when she woke up, she discovered that her hair grew even longer than it had before over the night. She wasn't sure how it was possible, but she decided not to question it and just relax in her relief.
Her life was probably the opposite of relief, in fact. "Stress" and "Torture" seemed appropriate terms to describe it, in fact. By the time she was flipping eggs, Dudley was throwing a tantrum with his mother, which made her headache even worse. He was counting his presents while she was putting small plates filled with eggs and bacon onto the table, and his face drooped, making him look like an aged scarecrow.
"Thirty-six," he said, looking up at his mother and father. "That's two less than last year."
Charlie couldn't resist rolling her eyes, but the glares Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were giving her made her regret it.
"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mommy and Daddy."
"All right, thirty-seven, then," His face was slowly turning a deep shade of red until it looked like blood. Charlie's senses picked up a huge tantrum coming along, and she began to stuff herself as fast as she could with scrambled eggs before he turned the table over.
Aunt Petunia's Dudley senses were obviously picking up, too, because she said quickly, "And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin? Two more presents. Is that all right?"
It didn't make sense to Charlie that she'd have to ask her son if two more presents for his birthday were okay, but then again, the only things she'd gotten for her birthday was Aunt Petunia's raggedy old teddy bear, with one of the button eyes missing.
Dudley glared at his mother for a long time, until finally he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty... Thirty... "
"Thirty-nine, sweetums," Aunt Petunia said, her eyes shining with admiration at the sound of her son actually counting.
Charlie almost barfed in her mouth.
"Oh." Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then."
Uncle Vernon chuckled, though Charlie didn't really see the humor.
"Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair.
Seriously? Charlie thought with disgust as she stared at her uncle. You're encouraging it?
At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Charlie (with disgust) and Uncle Vernon (with adoration) watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a video camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new computer games, and a VCR. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petunia came back from the telephone looking extremely angry and worried.
"Bad news, Vernon," She muttered. "Mrs. Figg broke her leg- she can't take care of the girl."
The girl, Charlie glared venomously at her aunt. She couldn't remember once when they called her Charlie. No, it always had to be her or the girl, like she was some kind of parasite. Dudley's mouth fell open in horror, and Charlie just sighed. Every year on Dudley's birthday, his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies- someplace fancy and fun, whereas every year, Charlie was left behind with Mrs. Figg, an old lady who Charlie thought was rather mad, who lived two streets away.
Charlie hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made her look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned, and it wasn't much fun looking at Mr. Whiskers, an old graying cat with droopy whiskers and an ugly, tattered pink snout.
'"Now what?" asked Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Charlie as though he'd planned this. Charlie knew she ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when she reminded himself it would be a whole year before she had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tufty again.
"We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested, but his forehead buckled.
"Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the girl. Can't say I'd blame her," Aunt Petunia spat out, and Charlie's blood slowly boiled. "Feeling's mutual," She muttered under her breath. The Dursleys often spoke about Charlie like this, as though she wasn't there — or rather, as though she was something very stupid that couldn't understand them, like an old polecat, or Dudley. She knew she should've been used to it by now, but Charlie was so angry her mind almost blacked out.
"What about what's-her-name, your friend — Yvonne?"
"On vacation in Majorca," Aunt Petunia said morbidly.
"You could just leave me here- I'd be out of your way, then," Charlie chimed in, and the two glared at her.
"And come back and find the house in ruins?" They snarled in unison, sounding like a pair of vicious dogs.
Charlie stared at her fists in anger, clenching them so tightly her knuckles were white.
'"I suppose we could take him to the zoo," said Aunt Petunia slowly, "… and leave her in the car…"
"What, like a dog?" Charlie's eyes widened, but they ignored her completely as they continued their argument.
'"That car's new, she's not sitting in it alone…"
Dudley, who's face had been turning a vicious purple, pretended to cry, his arms flailing out to the sides, while Charlie giggled softly. Dudley was many things, but he certainly wasn't an actor. Aunt Petunia, however, fell for his act and rushed to his side.
"Oh, don't worry, Dinky Dudydums, Mummy's not going to let that evil girl ruin your day!" She cried, and Charlie pushed her chair back from the table in fury as Dudley gave her an ugly, cruel grin through his mother's arms.
Suddenly, the doorbell rung, and Dudley stopped crying immediately as Uncle Vernon opened the door. On the threshold was Dudley's best (and ugliest, in Charlie's opinion) friend, Piers Polkiss. He shot Charlie a glare, and she stuck her tongue out behind her aunt and uncle's back.
Half an hour later, Charlie was sitting in the back of the car with Piers and Dudley, off to the zoo for the first time in her sorry life. She smiled to herself as she stared at the window, but she knew the day would go wrong. For her, it usually did.
Right as they entered the car, Uncle Vernon made a point of taking Charlie aside and giving her a glare. "I'm warning you, girl, one funny business that happens on this trip and you'll be spending a month in the cupboard- with no meals," He hissed, and she shivered when his nasty breath fell upon her face.
Uncle Vernon complained along the way to the zoo to Aunt Petunia. For the first 5 years of her life, Charlie steadfastly believed that her uncle did nothing but complain about: Work, Charlie, the Bank, Charlie, the Sports, and Charlie were a few of his favorite topics.
This morning, it was motorcycles.
"… roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as a motorcycle overtook them. Personally, Charlie adored motorcycles- they'd always fascinated her, with the roaring speed and the loud, purring engine- but she wasn't stupid enough to say it aloud. However, she was so excited about going to the zoo that words suddenly burst out her lips before she could stop them.
"I had a dream about a motorcycle," said Charlie, still smiling to herself. "It was flying."
Bad mistake.
"THERE- IS- NO- SUCH- THING- AS- FLYING- MOTORCYCLES!" Uncle Vernon shrieked so loudly the car jittered, and Charlie glared at the back of his fat, bald head from her seat. "I know, Uncle Vernon- it was only a stupid dream," She muttered, but he didn't seem to hear her.
She turned around as angry tears began to form in her eyes. She wished she hadn't said anything. If there was one thing the Dursleys hated even more than her asking questions about her past, it was her talking about anything acting in a way it shouldn't, no matter if it was in a dream or even a cartoon — they seemed to think she might get dangerous ideas, even if it was a laugh.
It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with families. The Dursleys bought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice creams at the entrance and then, because the beaming old lady in the van had asked Charlie what she wanted before they could hurry her away, they bought her a cheap lemon ice pop. It was rather good, Charlie thought, licking it as they passed a gorilla scratching its head that looked extremely like Dudley, except that it wasn't blonde and as ugly.
Charlie had the best morning she'd had in a long time. She was careful to walk a little way apart from the Dursleys so that Dudley and Piers, who were starting to get bored with the animals by lunchtime, wouldn't fall back on their favorite hobby of hitting her. They ate in the zoo restaurant, and when Dudley had a tantrum because his knickerbocker glory didn't have enough ice cream on top, Uncle Vernon bought him another one and Charlie was allowed to finish the first, even though she shuddered at the thought of eating anything that Dudley even touched.
Afterwards, though, Charlie knew it was too good to last.
After lunch, they went to the reptile house. It was cold and dark in there, with slivers of light coming from windows dotting the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of curious-looking lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. Dudley and Piers wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick, man-crushing pythons, whereas Charlie was getting extremely peeved at their obsession with violent creatures, even though she knew it was no surprise, seeing as though they were vicious animals themselves. Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernon's car and crushed it into a trash can — but at the moment it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was sound asleep.
Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass, making him have an ugly pig-nose that made his face look even more hideous, if that were possible. "Daddy, make it move," He said in a whiny tone, and Charlie tried to resist the urge to bring her fist to his face.
Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass repeatedly, but the snake didn't respond to it. In fact, it was so still, Charlie wondered if it could be dead, possibly out of boredness out of having ugly, mean people like Uncle Vernon pester you all day.
"This is boring," Dudley mumbled and shuffled away to annoy another poor reptile.
But Charlie remained, staring long and hard at the snake. Almost as if she ordered it to wake up, he slowly rose up until it was head-to-head with Charlie, and gave her a wink.
Charlie, who'd never really seen a reptile wink before, stared at it in shock before smiling and winking too. The snake jerked its head toward Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes to the ceiling in annoyance. It gave Charlie a look that said quite simply:
"I get that all the time."
Charlie sighed sympathetically with the snake, and then mumbled, "I know- it must be extremely annoying to have blunderheads like them pester you all day," The snake looked (if it was even possible) amused as it nodded.
"Where'd you come from, anyways?" Charlie asked the glistening brown snake, happy at finally making a friend, even if it did happen to have fangs and a forked tongue. It jerked its tail next to a little sign next to the cool, smooth glass. Charlie peered at it- even with her glasses, she had a sorry vision.
It read, Boa Constrictor, Brazil.
"Was it nice there?" Charlie asked, a bit wistful at the thought of being anywhere other than rainy, boring England. The snake jabbed its tail at the sign again and she read on: This specimen was bred in the zoo. "Oh, I see — so you've never been to Brazil?" As it shook it's head, a disgusting, familiar voice suddenly boomed.
"DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT THE SNAKE IS DOING!" Piers screeched, and Dudley hurried back to the exhibit, jabbed Charlie in the ribs so she fell onto the ground, and stared at the snake with huge eyes. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it could have happened — one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with screams of horror.
Charlie propped upright on one elbow to see what the fuss was about- and let out a croak. The glass in front of the boa constrictor's tank had vanished. The huge snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People inside the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits.
As the snake slithered past, Charlie could almost hear him hissing, "Brazil, here I come- thanks, amigos," Before she had enough time to blink, she was standing upright, thanks to Uncle Vernon grabbing the collar of her shirt and giving her a suspicious glare, while the owner of the reptile house wa blubbering, "But the glass- where did the glass go?"'
The zoo director himself made Aunt Petunia a cup of strong tea while he apologized over and over again. Piers and Dudley could only blubber to themselves. As far as Charlie had seen, the snake hadn't done anything except snap playfully at their heels as it passed, but by the time they were all back in Uncle Vernon's car, Dudley was telling them how it had nearly bitten off his leg, while Piers was swearing it had tried to squeeze him to death. But worst of all, for Charlie at least, was Piers calming down enough to say, "Harry was talking to it, weren't you, Harry?"
Once they got home, and once Piers went back to his mum's house, Uncle Vernon turned on Charlie. He was so angry he could hardly speak, and his forehead had a huge blue vein in it. He managed to say, "Go — cupboard — stay — no meals," before he collapsed into a chair, and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large cup of brandy.
Charlie lay once more in her dark cupboard, her stomach gnawing with hunger. True to his word, she hadn't had anything to eat for nearly three days- and since she didn't have a watch, she didn't know whether the Dursleys were either awake or asleep, and until she did, she would probably go mad with hunger.
She'd lived with the Dursleys almost ten years, ten miserable years, as long as she could remember, ever since she'd been a baby and her parents had died in that stupid car crash. She couldn't even remember being in the car when her parents had died. Sometimes, when she strained his memory during long hours in his cupboard, she came up with a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light and a burning pain on her forehead.
She had always assumed it was part of the car crash, although how the green light came in, she had no idea. She couldn't remember her parents at all. Her aunt and uncle never spoke about them, and of course she was forbidden to ask questions. There were no photographs of them in the house, mostly because Aunt Petunia always hated her sister (jealousy, perhaps).
When she'd been younger, she'd always dream of some long-lost relative taking her in, but of course that could never happen: the Dursleys were her only living family, and she'd just have to accept that. Yet she sometimes thought the strangers on the streets seemed to know her. Once, a curious-looking man in a purple top hat had once kissed her hand when she was out shopping with Aunt Petunia and Dudley.
After interrogating Charlie for almost an hour if she knew the odd man, they fled the store in a hurry and didn't even buy anything. Another time, a young, wild-looking lady dressed in blue had waved happily to her on the bus, and just the other day a man in a red tunic had shaken her hand and walked away.
The weirdest thing about all these people was the way they seemed to disappear the second Charlie tried to get a closer look at them.
At school, Charlie had no one. No friends, no nothing. Everybody knew that Dudley's gang hated that odd Charlie Potter character in her baggy, old clothes and broken glasses, and nobody liked to disagree with Dudley's gang.
Ever.
Well, guys, I think that was pretty amazing! I'd love to hear your thoughts on this, and as promised, I hoped I was original enough with the story. Anyways, I love you all a lot, and with that…
Hugs, love, and all that jazz,
Lyricalyrics