A Minor Problem.
A Letter
A letter. Actually, The Letter, would be a more apt description, for this piece of parchment was perhaps the most curious text the boy had laid eyes on. Curious. And, he, Oreki Houtarou. The poor informal form of communication was thrown into the bin without even the slightest hesitance.
After all, he was Oreki Houtarou, and all this seemed far too troublesome.
Had he been slightly more observative, he would notice the tawny owl perched on one of the poles holding up the Verandah, an identical copy of the same informal form of communication clenched tightly in its beak.
The next day, he discovered to his despair, that the smirk and smug look on Satoshi's face was justified, as he held in his hand, a letter, no The Letter, signed, Fukube Satoshi. Of course, he made sure that the fact that he had received a very similar letter be conveniently forgotten. Slipped under the rug, as it would.
The letter was cursed, he was sure of it, as the very next morning, he saw the very same letter, signed Oreki Houtarou (But that's me!) in the hands of his hellish sister.
"Houtarou, a very interesting letter came in the mail today," she said, "And, Satoshi called, he seemed very eager to talk to you. Said something about 'Tawny Owls' and 'Wizards' - oh, there was something about a secret magic society, very 'Hush-Hush'. Isn't it curious Houtarou? Isn't it?"
And, then, the gods sniggered like children up from the heavens, and the two heavenly punishers bringing upon him pain and suffering smirked, and he realised, with a sigh,
"My energy supplies are doomed, aren't they, curious little letter?"
And, he could swear, that as dozens of the same letter fell through his chimney, the text on the little letter gave a little jolt in amusement. He winced.
And then, the way things happened to turn out, Oreki was in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry in a few months.
