I do not own Harry Potter. Charlotte Potter is my OC.

An Unexpected Visitor

Charlotte Potter loved to learn. When she attended Muggle school, she'd been forced to dumb down her work so that Dudley would come out on top. Now that she was at Hogwarts, she was able to academically excel. She didn't have to worry about limiting herself. Most students were despondent about having to complete their summer homework, considering it a blemish on their sunny holidays. She, on the other hand, was always eager to tackle each assignment.

The only problem was that the second she stepped foot into the Dursley household for the summer her uncle locked her trunk, which contained all her magic supplies, in the cupboard under the stairs. Thankfully she had acquired a nifty skill of picking locks with hairpins in her childhood days during the periods of isolation in her cupboard with a how-to library book hidden beneath her pillow.

It took a week but she managed to rescue her textbooks while her relatives were having tea in the garden. She smuggled them upstairs into her bedroom and shoved them into the wardrobe, covering them with Dudley's old hand-me-downs.

Having time to complete her homework was trickier, as her aunt and uncle always had a list of chores for her to accomplish. She wrote her essays in the dark of the night, hidden under her covers and using a flashlight to help her see.

It left her with little sleep but the Dursleys didn't notice the faint bags under her eyes. All that mattered to them was she finished the housework and Charlie dutifully completed her tasks each day, which ranged from raking the leaves to sweeping the floors to cleaning Vernon's car. The one chore that remained concrete, that she had to do daily, was help Petunia make the meals.

There were several pots on the stove, the contents bubbling and hissing as the flames flickered beneath them. The steam caused sweat to build on Charlie's forehead and she idly wiped it away with the sleeve of her shirt.

"Do you have the gravy on?" demanded Petunia as she sliced vegetables neatly on a cutting board.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," replied Charlie, giving the simmering brown substance a stir.

A sharp rap at the front door caused Vernon to grumble in the next room. "Who could be calling at this hour? Charlotte! Answer the door, girl! See what they want!"

Charlie set the lid over a pot of boiling potatoes and made tracks for the entry hall. She reached the front door and quickly swung it open, only to jolt in shock at discovering who was on the other side.

Professor Severus Snape stood on the front stoop, dressed in dark trousers and a black button-up shirt. He regarded his student, from her flushed cheeks to the gravy staining the front of her oversized shirt. "Hello, Potter."

"Hello, sir," returned Charlie, trying to arrange her stricken expression into something more polite. "What brings you here?"

"I've come to converse with your relatives." When Charlie hesitated, Snape raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to invite me in or continue standing there gawking?"

Charlie nervously glanced over her shoulder, but there was no sign of her relatives coming to investigate. "I don't think that's a good idea. They're, um, they won't be pleased to see you."

"If you are worried their appalling demeanor will offend me, you are mistaken."

"Okay," said Charlie uncertainly. "Please, come in."

She stepped back and let Snape cross the threshold. The aromas of a roast dinner filled the house and Snape eyed the stains on her clothes. He asked suspiciously, "Are you cooking for them?"

"Yeah."

"Do they force you to do this often?"

"I wouldn't say forced," said Charlie quickly. "I don't mind, really. Gives me something to do."

"And they let you eat the food you make?"

Brow furrowing, Charlie asked, "Is that what this visit is about?"

"What's taking you so long, girl? Who is it?"

Snape's answer was prevented by a loud, impatient holler. Charlie snapped her chin around to peer over her shoulder, her eyes wary. Vernon lumbered into the hall and he gave Snape a sharp once-over. "Who is this?" he demanded.

"Uncle Vernon, this is Professor Snape. He's—"

She did not get to say anything further. The moment she introduced him as her professor Vernon let out a furious roar, his face rapidly turning purple in anger. He charged forwards and grabbed his niece roughly by the back of her shirt, yanking her backwards and out of his way. Charlie stumbled and her elbow slammed into the decorative table by the staircase.

Immediately Snape took out his wand and, with a few spells, he stopped Vernon in his tracks.

"Vernon! What's wrong?" Petunia cried, hurrying into the entry hall. When she caught sight of Snape, her face turned white and she said with a gasp, "You!"

"Petunia," Snape sneered. "I regret to have the displeasure of seeing you again."

"Get out of my house!" Petunia raged, hands flapping by her sides anxiously. "Oh, what did you do to Vernon, you brute?"

"Your husband is simply frozen in place with the inability to speak. I am here to have a civilized conversation and I will have it," Snape said, his tone icy and dangerous.

Charlie darted her gaze between her professor and her aunt. They knew each other?

This is just too weird for words.

Furious, Petunia pursed her lips and nodded stiffly. "We will have the conversation here," she said, her voice equally as frosty but nowhere near as intimidating.

Snape freed Vernon from the invisible hold. "How dare you?" he shouted. "Using it in my own house! I want you out of here immediately!"

Snape leaned forwards, his expression dark. "Either you are hard of hearing or you're incredibly stupid. Albus Dumbledore sent me and I am not leaving until you answer my questions. I am more than happy to keep you frozen until you cooperate."

Vernon recoiled at the wand aimed steadily at him. He spluttered incomprehensibly and for a moment it looked like his head would explode. "Fine," he hissed. "Girl!"

Charlie, who had been watching the exchange with apprehension, hastily straightened under her uncle's fierce scrutiny. "Uncle Vernon?"

"Go back in the kitchen and finish supper! Don't you ruin it!"

Snape's expression flooded with fury as the raven-haired girl nodded and quickly went into the kitchen to finish her task. "I shouldn't be surprised that you put a twelve-year-old girl to work, but I admit that I am."

"After all we've done for her, the least she can do is cook dinner for us," Petunia said coldly.

Snape's lips pulled back into a sneer. "All you've given her is a roof over her head. You force her to trudge around in those horrid clothes and you treat her as your personal maid."

"It's not your business what goes on in this house!" blustered Vernon.

"Oh, it is when it concerns the welfare of one of my students," said Snape silkily. "Which is the reason for this visit. Dumbledore wants to ensure that you have heeded his warning and are feeding her properly."

"We've always fed her properly," said Petunia resentfully. "We only took away her meals when she was deserving of it."

"Starving children is not a punishment. It is cruel," Snape hissed. "As for feeding her properly, that's a blatant lie. We have the medical report that confirms Potter spent the first two years at Hogwarts undernourished and underweight."

"We're doing what we've been instructed to do," said Vernon stonily. "Now get out of my house."

"Not quite," the professor said. He went to move past Vernon and he practically sprang out of his way. "I have a few more inquiries to make and then I will be departing this awful place."

Petunia inched around him; her nose twisted as if she'd caught the stench of something awful. Snape ignored her scathing glower as he entered the kitchen, pausing once he caught sight of Charlie standing over the stove, sprinkling salt into the pot of boiling potatoes.

She hadn't noticed his arrival and neither had the fat blonde boy sitting at the table. The boy was glaring at his cousin. "Why'd you bring him here?"

"I didn't bring him here," said Charlie in exasperation.

"He hurt Daddy."

"He just made him be still and quiet. I don't think Uncle Vernon would be able to yell like that if he were hurt."

"You're gonna be in a lot of trouble," said Dudley, eyes glimmering with glee at the prospect.

"No different from any other day," Charlie answered.

"You're probably gonna get the cupboard."

"It's a possibility," said Charlie idly.

It didn't matter what the foul boy said. The girl was unshakeable. She took his taunts with an air of eternal patience. He cleared his throat and Dudley nearly jumped out of his skin. He squeaked at the sight of the wizard in such close proximity and he dove out of his chair, sprinting out of the room through the screen door.

"Honestly," said Charlie with a shake of her head. "I am really sorry about them. They really don't like m—uh, it."

"It," repeated Snape flatly.

"I'm not allowed to use the m-word or anything related to it."

Just when Snape thought he couldn't despise the Dursleys any more than he already did. "How is your arm?"

"Oh, it's fine."

"Are you sure?"

"It doesn't hurt at all," said Charlie truthfully.

She wasn't holding her elbow in a manner that said otherwise so Snape nodded. "I believe you've already surmised why I am here."

"You're here to make sure they're feeding me."

"Indeed. Professor Dumbledore has been worried about your health ever since Molly Weasley told him about your poor appetite. Professor Dumbledore wasn't certain if his warning would be enough to spur the Dursleys to change their behaviour. He sent me to ensure you are no longer being deprived of meals."

"I'm fine, really," assured Charlie. "I always have been."

"You need not excuse their atrocious behaviour. How they treat you is horrendous, and I am sorry you have to be left in their dismal care."

Snape was not expecting the smile she sent him. "I know they don't care about me. But I honestly don't mind. I've had almost thirteen years to get used to the Dursleys. It's a delicate relationship."

"They are feeding you, then?"

"More than usual, yeah."

As Charlie was known to downplay and disregard the Dursleys' mistreatment, Snape studied her with narrowed eyes. The child did indeed look healthier. She had clearly gained a few pounds and sprouted a few inches, although she still had some ways to go before she caught up to her classmates.

"Are you sleeping well?"

Charlie blinked. "Yeah, fine. Why?"

"The bags under your eyes indicate otherwise."

"I guess I stay up later than I should," said Charlie, not wanting to delve into the details. There was no way the Dursleys would allow her to complete her magical schoolwork in their house, no matter what Dumbledore said, so there wasn't much point in mentioning it.

"Doing their bidding?" asked Snape with narrowed eyes.

"No! Not at all. I just like staying up late to read. I, uh, do chores during the day, so I don't have much time to relax and do what I want to do until the evening."

Snape was not surprised by this. "What was it your cousin said about a cupboard?"

Her hand stilled for second, lips thinning into a nervous line. "He was just joking."

"He was not, Miss Potter."

It was the addition of the title to her surname that caused Charlie's stomach to jump. "It's just something they make me do, if they're not pleased with me. Scrubbing out the cupboard under the stairs," she lied. "It's a hard job, and I hate doing it, and Dudley likes watching me do things I don't like doing."

Snape's jaw clenched. "It must be an often occurrence, for him to bring it up."

Charlie shrugged, hoping her anxiety wasn't showing on her face. "It doesn't matter. I'm used to it."

"I'm going to conduct a brief inspection," spoke Snape. "I will return shortly."

He swept out of the kitchen without waiting for her response. Petunia and Vernon were no longer in the entry hall, no doubt hiding out with their son until he left. He paused near the cupboard under the stairs and yanked it open. There was nothing inside except for some shoes and umbrellas and miscellaneous clutter in the small space. Finding nothing suspicious, he went upstairs and checked behind each door. One bedroom clearly belonged to Dudley; toys scattered every available surface and there was a television sitting on the desk, sandwiched next to the computer.

He eased open another door and found a pure white cat lounging on the bed. There were no toys and no electronics. There was a wardrobe stuffed against the wall and the bookshelves were loaded with books. But Snape now knew better than to think the Dursleys had bought them specifically for Charlotte. They were cast-offs from her cousin, like all Muggle items Charlotte owned.

It seemed foolish, in hindsight, that he so completely believed that Petunia raised Charlotte in a lavish lifestyle. She had been nasty and bitter to her own sister when Snape knew her in their youth. Why did he think that she would change her behaviour towards Lily's child?

And Charlotte, much like Lily had, did not harbour any resentment towards Petunia.

When Snape returned downstairs it was to find Charlie standing in the entry hall, waiting for him. "Everything okay?"

"I would not say so, Miss Potter. You deserve more than what the Dursleys are willing to give you. But I, nor anyone else, can change that."

Charlie smiled—how could she smile about such matters? "It's not the happiest life a girl could have, but it's definitely not the worst."

Snape studied her intently. "If I leave, will they harm you?"

Charlie's eyes went wide with shock. "No! No, they won't."

The passion behind her words convinced him. "Very well. I will give Professor Dumbledore my report. I shall see you when the semester begins."

"Okay. Um, Professor, how do you and my aunt know each other?"

"It is not relevant," said Snape shortly.

Bewilderment crossed the girl's face, but she knew better than to ask further questions. "Right. Thank you. For coming to make sure I'm okay."

"It's the duty of Hogwarts and its professors to ensure the well-being of their students," returned Snape. "Good night, Miss Potter."

"Good night Professor."

He departed; the front door clanging shut behind him. Charlie did not have any time to process the unexpected events of the evening, for Vernon bellowed, "Girl! Dinner had better be on the table in five minutes!"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon!" she called back, hurrying into the kitchen, hoping the hearty meal would dispel any fury her relatives held towards her.

...

"Happy birthday to me," the newly-turned thirteen-year-old muttered after the clock struck midnight. It was dark in her room, the only source of light being the silver glow cast by the moon. She hadn't been able to fall asleep, the hope that perhaps she would be getting birthday wishes from her best friends too great for slumber.

Her excitement was well-founded, for half an hour later there were several owls pecking against her window. She eagerly approached the glass and found two owls standing on the ledge, supporting a third one between them. She cranked the window open and they flew in, landing on the bed. Snowy eyed them but did not budge, having been trained to leave the birds alone.

"Oh dear." Charlie stared at the elderly Errol, who could barely stand. "Hang on."

She grabbed Snowy's water dish from its spot near her desk and placed it beside Errol. Snowy hissed in irritation as he drank from her bowl. Charlie lightly scratched Snowy's ears. "Be nice. He needs a bit of a rest. Do you think one of you can stay behind?" she directed at the remaining two owls. "I need to send off a letter."

One remained on the bed as the other took back to the sky. Charlie sat crossed-legged against her pillow and curiously picked up the newspaper that accompanied Ron's letter and package. Her eyes widened upon spotting the front-page picture showcasing the Weasley family in front of the Egyptian pyramids. The headline stated that Arthur Weasley had been the winner of the Daily Prophet Grand Prize Draw.

Charlie beamed in delight. If anyone deserved it, it was definitely the Weasleys.

Happy birthday, Charlie!

We won seven hundred Galleons! None of us could believe it. We've never really been on vacation before, so Mum and Dad thought it would be great to take all of us to Egypt to see Bill. We haven't seen him in ages. He doesn't come home much.

Egypt is brilliant! I'm taking lots of pictures because I know you guys want to see them. Hermione wants us all to open our report cards together when we meet in Diagon Alley. She's certain she helped Harry and I get an Outstanding in Potions. I think she's mad.

Mum said she'd get me a new wand this year, since we can afford it thanks to the extra Galleons. At least I have an excuse if some of my grades are poor. I had a dodgy wand to work with.

We'll return the week before term starts. I'll be sure to let you know the day we're going to Diagon Alley. Hope you can join us!

Ron

Charlie ripped off the paper of Ron's package, revealing a miniature glass top. She read the note that was attached, informing her it was a Pocket Sneakoscope. It lit up and spun around if there was someone untrustworthy near its vicinity.

"Where was this in my first year?" Charlie said in amusement.

There were two more packages, which had been delivered by the same owl. Charlie selected one and opened up the letter.

Dear Charlie,

I'm in France with my parents and I didn't know how I was going to send this to you! Luckily Harry knew I didn't have an owl and sent his to me! Isn't that thoughtful of him? Hopefully it won't be too much trouble carrying my present and his.

I adore France! There's lots of interesting facts on wizards here and I'm writing them all down, just in case. I bet Ron is having a wonderful time in Egypt. He wrote to tell me he's taking pictures for us. I can't wait to see them.

Ron and Harry have agreed to wait until we're together in Diagon Alley to open it. I hope you can join us!

Happy Birthday!

Hermione

Charlie opened up Hermione's present and gasped. A sleek black leather case with the silver words Broom Servicing Kit greeted her when she tore off the paper. She studied the contents in awe. "Thanks, Hermione!"

Harry's letter was next.

Dear Sis,

Wow! It feels really cool to say that. Although it's been really hard keeping it from my uncle. I always tell him everything, so it's strange keeping a secret.

I'm still taking the Glamour Potion, obviously. Though I'm curious to know what I look like without it.

Ron's in Egypt and Hermione's in France. Clearly, they're having the most exciting summer. Next year we should all do something together.

Uncle Remus says you're welcome to come over anytime, but I have a feeling your relatives won't like you using Floo powder to travel here. Or having Uncle Remus Apparate onto their property to come collect you.

As I was writing this, I had a thought. It's my birthday too. How weird is that?

Happy birthday Charlie!

Your bro,

Harry

In December of last year, Charlie and Harry had discovered that they were actually twins. For reasons unknown to them they had been separated when they were babies, with Harry being taken in by Remus Lupin and Charlie grudgingly taken in by the Dursleys. Harry got the best end of the deal—he definitely didn't spend eleven years living in a cupboard under the stairs.

Though they wanted answers, they knew there was a good reason they had grown up without knowing of the other's existence. They decided to keep it to themselves for now, with the hope that someone would tell them the truth soon enough.

She opened up Harry's present and grinned when she found a book on wizarding fairy tales. Harry probably thought she had forgotten that it was his birthday as well, though he spent his entire life celebrating in October, due to Remus giving him a false birthdate.

She had acquired Harry's present on the rare shopping trip she was allowed to attend with her relatives. Charlie had collected as much pocket money as she could and bought Harry a book on Muggle animals, knowing that he probably hadn't heard of most of them.

But without an owl she hadn't been able to send it out early. She retrieved the wrapped present and letter, which she had stored under her bed, and handed it to who she knew now to be Harry's owl. "Can you give these to Harry, please? And try to make sure his uncle doesn't see them."

The owl hooted and took off with the parcel. Charlie turned to the last package, which rested beneath a thick envelope that bore the Hogwarts crest. With her head tilted to the side, Charlie removed the short note that was attached to the package.

Charlie,

Happy birthday!

I've got a surprise for you this year. I'll give you a hint—this book has something to do with it!

Hagrid

Charlie reached for the package and jumped when it started to squirm and wiggle. "Oh, that can't be good."

Snowy hissed and stood up, bracing herself for a fight. Charlie slowly got to her feet and eyed the wriggling lump nervously. With a deep breath she tore off the paper, revealing a green book with a gold title. It tumbled from her bed and scuttled around the floor.

"Geez."

Charlie looked for something to contain it with and the best she could do was a belt. She crouched low and dove towards the book. It jumped out of the way and retreated beneath the bed. Charlie groaned and inched her way after it, sneezing as the dust tickled her nose.

"Come on, come here—no biting!"

It took a minute, but she managed to wrap the belt around the book to keep it from snapping. Panting, she dropped the book on top of her desk and ran her fingers through her hair. "I have no idea what this has to do with Hagrid's surprise, and I don't know if I'm going to like whatever it is."

She opened up the final envelope, which contained her report card, which she quickly put to the side, and the supply list for her third year at Hogwarts. An additional piece of parchment was included, which the letter explained was a permission form for visiting Hogsmeade.

Charlie stared at the form, disheartened. The odds of getting her aunt or uncle to sign it would be slim to none, especially after Snape's visit. She would need to catch them when they were in a good mood with a solid argument.

...

As she was preparing breakfast, Vernon delivered some undesirable news. Charlie sent a dismayed glance over her shoulder. "Aunt Marge is coming here?"

"That's what I just said," snapped Vernon. "I'm leaving to pick her up from the station after breakfast. You listen closely, girl. Stick with the story and don't do any funny business."

The story she was meant to stick to was that she attended finishing school. It was concocted by her aunt to explain her disappearance for ten months out of the year to the neighbours.

"I can't do anything funny," said Charlie moodily, poking at the bacon cooking in the pan. "I'm not allowed to do it outside of that place."

"I don't want any mention of that weirdness either," hissed Vernon. "Do you hear me?"

"Yes, I hear you."

I thought last year was the worst birthday I ever had. I was so wrong.

An idea came to her mind as she piled the bacon onto a plate. She sent Vernon a thoughtful look and said, "I received a letter yesterday. From you-know-where. It came with a permission slip to attend a nearby village. Do you think you could sign it?"

"No," said Vernon shortly.

"That's unfortunate," said Charlie with a sigh. "I really hope I don't forget and tell Aunt Marge where I've really been these past two years."

Vernon and Petunia stilled and stared at her. Dudley's eyes widened. "You wouldn't," growled Vernon, but his face had paled.

"Well, I might be able to mind my tongue better if you signed my form."

"Why you—" began Petunia furiously, but Vernon interrupted her.

"Fine," he snarled. "I'll sign your bloody form if you do a damn good job of keeping to the story. One toe out of line, one slip-up, and you can forget about it!"

"Got it." Charlie beamed. "I'll be on my best behaviour. Thanks, Uncle Vernon."

Charlie helped Petunia set breakfast on the table before hurrying upstairs. For as long as she could remember, Marge and her dog Ripper were inseparable. He was a nasty beast, but Charlie blamed poor training. She entered her bedroom and started packing up Snowy's cat supplies. Her cat regarded her and mewed inquisitively.

"Sorry, Snowy, but Aunt Marge has a big old dog that likes to get into everything. Even if I keep my door closed Dudley will think it's funny to let him in to get to you. It's best that you're out of the house while they're both here."

She motioned to the cat carrier and though Snowy was reluctant, she crawled inside. Charlie snapped the little door shut and called softly, "Dobby!"

There was crack and a strange creature appeared in the middle of her bedroom. Charlie listened for any signs of her aunt and uncle coming upstairs to investigate the noise, but the stairs remained quiet. "Hey, Dobby. How are you?"

Dobby beamed at her. "Dobby is being well, Miss! The kind Wheezys send Dobby gifts of thanks!"

"That's great! I was hoping you could do me a favour. Would you mind taking care of Snowy for a few days? A guest is coming over and she doesn't like cats."

"Dobby will gladly be taking good care of Snowy!" Dobby grabbed the supplies first and brought them over to The Burrow. He returned for the cat carrier and he asked, "Will Miss be needing anything else?"

"No, I'm good! Thank you very much, Dobby."

"Charlotte Potter is most welcome!"

He Disapparated and Charlie was alone in her room. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come. "I can do this. I can do this."

But an hour later, when there was a hearty knocking at the door, Charlie felt her confidence dip severely. "Oh, please don't let this go horribly wrong," she whispered.