Dearest Harry,

Sixteen years ago my family was destroted by Lord Voldomort. I am the only surviver. You, being the boy who lived, delayed the Dark Lord five times, and I am confedent that the Dark Lord will meet his down fall at your hand.

I am also sure that you could use a little help along the way and I have constructed a spell that will strip the Dark Lord of his evil powers. As well as that is, I am in no position to just hand you such a spell. So in comprimise I am sending you clues.

The first clue shall reach you shortly. Study them closly. There back-round, habbits, envionment, who discover them, etc. I wish you luck and hope that my clues are enough to help you.

With your good health and well being in mind,

A well wisher.

P.S. The clues will disapear after tweenty-four hours, and no one but your self will remember the clues. And as you may already know you must breath on the letters to activate the spell allowing you to read them.

Harry was dumb struct. Some one who knew how to defeat Voldomort! Not even Dumbldor knew how to do that! Dumbldor. He would want to know about this. He looked around for Hedwig when he saw the other black envolope. He opened it with shakey hands and pulled out another black letter with swirling symblos. He felt like a prat breathing on a letter but he did it any way, curiosity overwelming him.

Dearest Harry,

Your first clue. A Griffen. Rememder study!

That was it. He looked up his gaze meeting the griffen. He couldn't remember Hagrid, the care of magical creatures teacher, ever say any thing about griifens.

He would worry about it tomorrow.

With a heavy sigh Harry fell back into his bed. He was very close to sleep when he heard a awful scream, the breaking of china, and his name.

"HARRY POTTER !"

Harry ran down stairs at neck breaking breaking speed. He skidded to a halt in the kitchen where he met an awful sight. Feathers were every where, covering his Uncle Veron, his Aunt Petunia, Dudly the dinner roast, the china, the floor, and the newly dustd shelves. Uncle Vernon was purple with rage.

"What have I told you about owls in this house?" he spat, clearly trying not to raise his voice.

"Look at this. LOOK AT THIS!" he roared, waving about the room with a letter.

A LETTER !