Chapter 1. Birdwatching in Surrey, or: Everything You Wanted to Know About Owls but Were Afraid to Ask
Dr. Millerson gazed, stupefied, for outside his doorstep at the house of 5 Private Drive, Little Whinging was a very curious sight. There were more owls than usual, meaning that there were any owls at all. As far as Dr. Millerson could remember there were not usually owls, especially since it was eight in the morning. Dr. Millerson went even so far as to find his old book entitled Birdwatching in Surrey, and found that many of the owls were not native to the region Even more curious was that they were carrying letters. Upon further study in Birdwatching in Surrey, Dr. Millerson found that: "Owls are not noted for their tendency to deliver letters... if you suspect an owl is delivering a letter, inspect closely; you will most likely find that the suspected owl is, indeed, a homing pigeon, who are not owls at all." Despite this, Dr. Millerson was sure that it was an owl, not a homing pigeon. He made a mental note to inform the publisher of Birdwatching in Surrey about the rather noticeable oversight. Of course, the only reason this seemed to be relevant at all is because there was an owl of an epistolary disposition perched on his mailbox. Through the strange logical progression of Dr. Millerson, he concluded that if a): owls were delivering letters and b): there was currently an owl on his mailbox then c): the letter was intended for him, or perhaps it was a misfiled letter, in which case he should return it to the sender, as owls probably did not know how to sort letters properly anyway. Thus, as 4 Private Drive was being miraculously flooded with letters, the tenant of 5 Private Drive was engaged in a heated debate with a miraculously uninterested owl.
"See here, now! You can't just sit there with that letter in your mouth." This was met with as much scorn as an apathetic owl could muster.
"I know that it isn't for me, but that's not the point! I have to send the letter back to the sender! It's only proper." To this, the owl very nearly seemed to point out that the house that it was addressed to was right across the street and that having to fly back all the way to the sender would be a needless hassle. It did not point this out, of course, for it was an owl and, in accordance with the questionably reliable Birdwatching in Surrey: "Owls are not usually inclined to make arguments about the superfluousness of bureaucratic processes. If you find an owl who does this, be certain that it is, indeed, an owl instead of, perhaps, a disgruntled labourer"
"Look, Mr. Owl, if that is your real name. I don't care if the intended address is right across the street! Now look, if you really don't want to fly all the way back, I will send it myself." The owl appeared as if it retorted that you could not send it back to the sender if you tried because, as a muggle, you would be incapacitated by the magical masquerade, you twit. Of course, making convincing if condescending counter arguments is not among the repertoire of skills under the command of most owls, if the increasingly unbelievable Birdwatching in Surrey is to be believed.
Nevertheless, Dr. Millerson did seem to take this information to heart, and after persistent persuasion, he managed to bore the owl enough for it to drop the letter and lazily fly away.
"Well, that's more like it, now isn't it? Now, let's see what we've got here. 'Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hogwarts Castle, abt. Dufftown, Banffshire, Scotland, UK.' What a curious address. Hmm. Very good. To the post office then."
"Is this some kind of joke?" groaned the postman.
"Not at all. I tell you, it was the strangest thing I've ever seen. An owl, which according to this book here" Dr. Millerson explained, pointing to Birdwatching in Surrey "does not deliver letters, was indeed delivering letters. Now, as a good citizen, I request that you return this letter to the return address with all due haste. After all: 'Harry Potter'" he read slowly, squeezing comprehension out of the page with his squinting, "is expecting a letter; we wouldn't want to disappoint him, now would we?"
"Sir, are you supposed to be taking a medication of some sort?"
"No, why?"
"Sir, you do understand that you just told me that you have in your hand a letter which is apparently from a school for wizards-"
"And witches"
"And witches, situated in a castle which doesn't exist, which is in Scotland which was delivered by an owl to your mailbox and you want us to send it back to this fictitious place so that it can be sent to the address which is literally right across the street from you for the sole reason that a cheap local ornithology book had overly specific information on what said owl cannot do."
"Yes."
"And this is so important that you couldn't even change out of your pyjamas to tell us"
"Yes"
"Sir have you considered the fact that you are a loon?"
"No"
"You may want to look into that."