Chrysalis | A Harry Potter Fanfiction

Chapter 9

Happy Birthday, Harry <3

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Caelia rode the train home with Hannah, Hermione, and Neville, as Susan and Megan had opted to stay at Hogwarts for the holiday. She met her father on the platform, running into his open arms. After the fiasco on September first, she was quite happy that she was finally able to see her dad again.

Mr. Carter ruffled her curly hair as he led her to where they would apparate, Caelia complaining good-naturedly. Bundled up in her Hufflepuff scarf and comfy Muggle coat, and tucked under her dad's arm, she felt very at home. She hoped that Harry would find similar comfort at Hogwarts.

The two of them arrived home to a light snowfall, and seeing Mrs. Figg across the street, they invited her over for Christmas dinner in a few days. Christmases had always been the four of them--Mr. Carter, Mrs. Figg, Harry, and Caelia. It was quaint, but it was nice. She didn't know it any other way, so having it without Harry would certainly be different, but she was willing to adapt as necessary.

A part of her ached, despite it all.

She followed her father up their doorstep, drinking in the sight of their home. Identical to the rest of the block, but her father had begun decorating the outside for the holiday. They always did the inside together. The windchime she made when she was nine clinked stiffly in the frozen air.

Her father stopped at the mailbox, and upon opening it, they found a single note with a neat scrawl they'd only seen a handful of times before.

Please send Caelia over when she arrives home from school so she can send Harry his Christmas gift for us. Preferably at nighttime. ~P. Dursley

The two Carter's looked at each other incredulously, but headed inside nonetheless.

"That family is a wonder, really." Her father grumbled. "It forever astounds me that they could be related to Lily and Harry."

"Well, at least they're sending him a Christmas gift. They could have pretended he didn't exist for a whole year."

Mr. Carter laughed. "I honestly think he'd prefer it that way."

Caelia giggled and finished taking off her winter gear. She could smell dinner cooking in the kitchen--her father had regaled his tale of discovering the ingenious Muggle crock-pot, to her great enjoyment.

After a little while, the sun had departed and Caelia bundled back up to head across the street to the Dursley's. She made sure to put on her nicest sweater and skirt under her winter coat, and she redid her hair before putting her earmuffs on (an annoying, but necessary step). While she greatly disliked the Dursleys and would rather stay as far away from them as possible, they were Harry's family, and for his sake she preferred to stay on their good side. Petunia Dursley would notice if even a curl of Caelia's was out of place. (She couldn't do much about that, considering just how curly her hair was, but she always tried.)

Caelia waved to her father, who watched her out the window as she crossed the street, already slick with a thin layer of snow. Making sure no one but her father could see her, she approached the door of Number 4, Privet Drive, and knocked three times.

She waited patiently for a moment, before Mrs. Dursley opened the door a crack, a frown already etched on her face. Seeing Caelia's rosy cheeks and the metal tin she carried, she seemed to decide for a moment whether or not to let her inside. On the one hand, she hated having more magical...beings in her house than necessary, but if Caelia stayed outside, someone would likely see her at their door.

Mrs. Dursely beckoned her inside.

"Miss Carter."

"Mrs. Dursley."

There was an unspoken agreement to avoid pleasantries, but Caelia kept her voice in a polite, even tone.

Mrs. Dursley's was clipped. "This is for Harry," she said, pulling a small pouch from her pocket. It took everything Caelia had to keep her face from contorting in incredulity.

She smiled, taking the pouch, and then proffered the tin. "This is for the three of you. My father and I made them."

Petunia's face, however, did contort, but in distrust rather than confusion. She opened the tin to reveal precisely decorated Christmas cookies. A Carter tradition. They gave them to the Dursleys every year, but this year Harry had accidentally slipped that Caelia was a witch.

"You haven't...done anything to these, have you, Miss Carter?"

"No ma'am," she replied. The cookies used to be one of the few things that kept them on civil terms.

Mrs. Dursley returned the lid to the tin and sniffed, looking at Caelia calculatively. "You know, I always thought there was something strange about you and your father. It's no wonder my nephew acts the way he does. You have been corrupting him for years."

Caelia kept her face and voice neutral, despite her boiling blood. "I'm sorry you think so, Mrs. Dursley. Harry has always been a good friend to me. I hope you know that my father and I have only ever tried to return the favor."

"Yes. Well," she didn't seem to know how to respond. Caelia counted that as a win. "Run along now, Miss Carter. I suspect your father is waiting for you."

Caelia nodded. "Merry Christmas, Mrs. Dursley."

She wasn't quite sure, but just as the door closed behind her, she thought she'd heard a faint, "Merry Christmas, Caelia," as she left Number 4.

She didn't know what to make of that. If there was anything the Dursleys had to be grateful for in regards to the Carters, it was that because of Caelia and her father, Harry always had a place to go that was away from them.