I do not own Harry Potter. Direct quotes from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix will be in bold.

Keep in mind that the fourth story in my Charlotte Potter series took two years to finish. Order of the Phoenix has the same amount of chapters, but it's longer in terms of content. So if I'm lucky, this will be finished in two years.

You've been warned. But for now, more Charlotte!

Little Whinging Gets Demented Visitors

The heat from the summer sun was intense, but those settled comfortably in their air-conditioned houses did not feel the effects. A fifteen-year-old girl, however, was not among the privileged.

Charlotte Potter was sprawled in the flowerbed of her aunt and uncle's house, hidden from view by passing pedestrians by the dying plants. Bright green eyes squinted at the dusk sky and long, tangled raven hair surrounded her head like a halo. Sweat glistened on her brow and with her bangs pulled back, her lightning-shaped scar was very noticeable against her pale skin.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she grumbled to herself. She was situated underneath the living room window, which was propped open to let in the summer breeze. This was the only way she'd be able to hear the evening news. Her aunt and uncle found it incredibly suspicious whenever she joined them on the couch to tune in, so to avoid the hassle of ludicrous questions she resorted to desperate measures.

"Can't watch television in my own bloody house," she continued her griping, adjusting herself so that she was in a more comfortable position.

Alright, so her aunt and uncle would argue insistently that it was their house, and she should consider herself eternally grateful that they allowed her to live there. And she was grateful-but she'd be even more grateful if they let her watch the dumb television.

"Is the girl upstairs?" Vernon's voice drifted out the open window and reached her ears. "Thought she'd be down here, trying to intrude."

"She's outside, I think," answered Petunia idly. "Weeding the garden or something."

"'bout time she earned her keep around here," grumbled Vernon.

Indigently, Charlie glared up at the windowsill. Her uncle did not have a horrible memory, and was conveniently forgetting the amount of hours she spent cooking and cleaning for them. She'd been earning her blasted keep for them since she was six!

"Dudley off with his friends?" Vernon asked next.

"Yes, at the Polkiss' for tea," said Petunia fondly. "He's very popular amongst his friends."

Charlie rolled her eyes. Dudley was indeed popular with his friends, but he was not going out for tea every evening as he led his parents to believe. He was out terrorizing children and vandalizing buildings. He was the most feared kid in the neighbourhood-well, second. She was the most feared, as her relatives told everyone she attended a school for hardened criminal girls. It was their cover story for why she was away ten months out of the year.

The music preceding the evening news started up and Charlie quickly focussed her attention. Her heart pounded anxiously.

"Our opening story tonight is the scandal relating to Cynthia Conway, who was caught by the paparazzi leaving-"

Charlie instantly tuned out, a heavy sigh of relief escaping her. If the opening story of the evening was the uninteresting activities of a washed-up celebrity, then it had been a slow news day. She knew she was torturing herself, waiting anxiously for news of gruesome murders that couldn't be explained, or odd incidents that baffled the police.

But she needed to know, wanted to keep up on Voldemort's activities. No one else was telling her anything.

She'd been at the Dursleys for over a month, and ever since her arrival there'd been no letters, with the exception of birthday presents (the mounds of candy she received didn't last long-sugar seemed to be the only cure for the nightmares plaguing her). She couldn't even write to ask for updates, as she didn't have an owl.

"This is not an ideal situation," she muttered, staring wearily at the orangey-red sky. She was absolutely cut off from the wizarding world, which was not something she needed, especially considering the return of Voldemort.

Crack!

In the calm silence, the noise was like a gunshot. Charlie leapt to her feet and the top of her head slammed into the top of the window. A cat flew out from underneath Uncle Vernon's car and streaked off while she dropped to the ground, dazed.

"Girl!"

Charlie stared up into the purple face of her uncle. "Wasn't me," she said quickly, trying to ignore the throbbing headache she now had.

Vernon quickly glanced at the windows of his neighbours. Sure enough, curious and suspicious faces were peering out at them. "Did you hear that car backfire?" he called. "Gave us quite the fright!"

Satisfied by this, the nosy neighbours allowed the curtains to fall back into place. Vernon grabbed Charlie by the neck of her oversized shirt and put his face close to hers. "You didn't use it did you?" he asked with a hiss.

"No, I didn't!" Charlie said, exasperated. "I was just weeding the garden!"

He eyed his niece with a severe, distrusting frown. "Better have been all," he finally grumbled. He let her go and retreated back into the house.

"I'm going for a walk!" she called after him, and when she received no response she started off down the street. Silence usually meant acceptance, and she already knew what she could and couldn't do when with her relatives.

She started down the driveway, hands shoved in a pair of Dudley's hand-me-down jeans. She had chopped off half of the leg material to the turn the baggy pants into a pair of baggy shorts. She tended to take creative liberties with most of Dudley's old clothes, though they never turned out very good. She supposed she could use her inheritance to buy a new wardrobe, but there seemed to be little time for frivolous shopping in her life. At least, nothing outside of candy and socks, the latter which went to Dobby as presents.

Speaking of her house-elf…

She paused and glanced over her shoulder, peering down the empty street. She was disappointed to see a lack of large green eyes, as she could have really used the company-and a connection to the wizarding world.

"If it wasn't him, who was it?" she muttered to herself, continuing on her way.

She was certain that the crack she had heard was one of a person Disapparating. But who was it? And was it someone she needed to watch out for?

"I hate not knowing," Charlie groaned. She kicked at the cement in frustration. "What the heck is going on?"

Despite her annoyance with the lack of communication from her friends and Sirius, her godfather, she wasn't really mad. She knew they were doing this for a reason-she just wished she knew what the reason was.

'Harry? Harry, can you hear me?'

Her brain rang with silence after her inward plea, and she sighed. "Well. It was a long shot."

Throughout the summer, she'd been trying to contact Harry Lupin, her twin brother. Their sibling bond enabled them to communicate with each other using telepathy. She'd spent many hours sitting on her bed, legs crossed and eyes closed, attempting to establish a telepathic connection with her brother. But she hadn't gotten any indication that she was reaching him.

But he could be ignoring her. Which totally wasn't cool, if that was the case.

Voldemort is out there, doing who-knows-what, and I'm here twiddling my thumbs. Come on, guys. Give me something.

She reached the playground, and she paused her stroll upon spotting her cousin and his gang of friends across the grassy yard.

"See ya later, Big D!" Piers Polkiss, Dudley's best friend, called as he and their buddy Malcolm started off. Dudley nodded after them and twisted on his heel, heading in the direction of Privet Drive. Charlie watched him round the corner and she decided she might as well head back too.

Not like she had friends or anything to hang out with.

I wonder if I should summon Dobby. Maybe he could tell me something.

It was thought that occurred many times over the course of the summer. But as much as she wanted to, she knew it wouldn't be wise. A house-elf wasn't exactly conspicuous, and revealing magic to the Muggles of her neighbourhood would result in deep trouble for her. He would stay with the Weasleys, as he always did during the summer holidays.

"Oi! What're you doing?"

Surprised, she glanced over her shoulder. Dudley came lumbering down the street towards her, a scowl on his face. While he was still as large as ever, he had bulked up considerably, thanks to his newly-discovered talent at boxing. In fact, he was a local champion, which Vernon never failed to bring up in conversation with his friends.

"What? I'm not allowed outside now or something?" Charlie asked, eyebrow raised.

"Why would you want to be outside? It's not like you have friends."

Charlie rolled her eyes. "Thanks to you. What's with Big D, anyway? It can't be relating to your I.Q."

"Shut up," snarled Dudley.

"Or what?" Charlie asked in amusement. "You'll hit me? I'd like to see you try. You don't scare me, Dudley. I've faced much worse in my life than an insecure relative who likes to act tougher than he really is."

"You think you're so brave," growled Dudley. "Like to act you're better than me just because you're a freak. Don't think I haven't heard you screaming at night."

Charlie stiffened. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do." Dudley smiled triumphantly, encouraged now that he found a subject that made his normally calm and collected cousin go on the defensive. "You beg for Angelina's life, for her to be spared. What, did you get her killed like your parents?"

Her fists clenched and she gritted her teeth. "Shut up, Dudley."

"Or what?" Dudley parroted. "You can't use it on me, or you'll get kicked out of that stupid school."

Charlie spun around and jabbed a finger in his face. "You've no bloody idea what I've had to face a few months ago," she hissed. "The things I've witnessed would make your skin crawl. You've no freaking idea what's coming!"

Her volume rose to a shout by the end, and her cousin stared at her with wide eyes. But it was not, she soon realized, from her words.

A dead silence filled the air, the sky was black and devoid of the early night stars. The streetlight had gone out completely, and an icy cold whistled through the air, causing goosebumps to prickle along her flesh. "Oh, Merlin," she whispered in horrified realization.

"What'd you do?" Dudley squeaked, panic overtaking him. "Stop it!"

"I'm not doing anything!"

"Liar!"

With a prompt punch, Charlie was sprawled on the pavement, cradling her jaw while her cousin took off. "Dudley!" she shouted. "You moron, you're going right to it! Ahh…wand, wand…"

She fumbled for her wand, her right hand snagging it from her shorts pocket. She scrambled to her sneaker-clad feet and said, "Lumos!"

The tip of her wand glowed brightly in the dark night. Up ahead, she could make out her cousin slumped on the ground. One Dementor was leaning over him while the second made a beeline for her. "Cover your face!" she hollered towards Dudley before raising her wand. "Expecto patronum!" she shouted, focussing her mind on Ron, Hermione and Harry, the people who made her feel the happiest.

A brilliant silver unicorn burst from her wand. It charged for the Dementor, and it immediately retreated. Her problem taken care of, she raced for Dudley, where the other Dementor was prying the boy's hands from his face. "Get it!"

Her unicorn patronus galloped towards the last Dementor. With a last rattling breath, it followed its fellow into the darkness and soon the stars burst back into the sky, the cold melted away and the streetlamps flickered back to life.

Panting heavily, Charlie leaned over and braced her hands against her knees. The unicorn dissolved into the air, leaving the two of them in the middle of the street. "Okay," she breathed. "Okay. We're alive. We're good."

She moved to Dudley's side. He was all but unconscious, no doubt traumatized from the event that had just occurred. "Dudley?"

Her cousin only whimpered and curled into a ball, his face white as a sheet.

We need to get moving, she thought, nervously glancing around. If the Dementors were sent by who she thought, then more would probably be coming-or something worse.

Loud footsteps suddenly sounded from behind them. Charlie spun around just as their odd, old neighbour Mrs. Figg rounded the corner. Her grey stuck out from her hairnet and an old reusable grocery bag hung from her arm.

Charlie frantically moved to shove her wand into the waistband of her jean shorts (she was already facing expulsion-she didn't want to think about what would happen if she exposed herself as a witch). "Er-"

"Keep it out, foolish girl!" Mrs. Figg snapped. "Those blasted creatures might come back! Ooh, just wait until I get my hands on Mundungus Fletcher!"

Staring with wide emerald eyes and a gaping mouth, Charlie could only utter, "Huh?"