Number Six, Privet Drive
Dear Tina,
It started late last night, when the street lamps went out. One at a time, mind. There were two people … and I overheard a very strange conversation. I was woken this morning by Mrs Dursley-from-next-door's scream. There was a bundle on the doorstep. Apparently it was her nephew, Harry. Ask around your place, the car crash where his parents died was quite near you. Poor kid, his cousin's a spoilt brat.
Liam.
Dear Liam,
Sorry I've been so long writing. Can't help. There was a gas explosion last month, and the parents died, but the baby boy somehow survived. They took him to live with relatives.
There was a gas explosion in London last week. I'm getting all mine checked. Can't be too careful, you know. You'd better get yours done too, pal, with all these explosions. Thirteen people got killed, apparently.
Tina.
Dear Tina,
It was definitely a car crash. Oh, well, might just be a coincidence. Shame about that tragedy near you. I knew that young man, he got me a job in that pub. His wife was lovely too. I'm sending this in the normal way in case someone's intercepting our mail.
Liam.
Ten years later, and many letters later.
Dear Tina,
Haven't heard from you in a while. I'm wondering if the Dursleys haven't gone completely mad. Harry told me that they went to a hotel, and then to a hut on a rock in the middle of the sea. Harry came back last night with some weird parcels. I'm sure I saw a long stick in one of them, but it was pretty dark.
Carrie, my homing pigeon who carried our letters, died last week so I have to send this through the post. Oh, well, past's past, and you can't change it. I buried Carrie in the garden. It was fun, being different.
Liam.
Dear Liam,
I'm sorry about Carrie. Oh, well, like you said, it isn't the past that matters, but the future.
Tina.
Dear Tina,
The pigeon's called Lafayette. The girl at No. 2 named her. Soppy romantic.
Liam.
Dear Liam,
I agree. She's very pretty though, and it suits her. See you during the holidays.
Tina.
Three years later
Dear Tina,
Hear about that escaped murderer? Cyril Clack, or whatever his name is. You could almost feel sorry for him, he looked so pale and - well, I've got to say it - innocent. As if he was wrongly convicted.
This is all very depressing, isn't it? Mind you, I am depressed - Marge Dursley's arrived to stay with Petunia and Vernon. God helps us, Tina, but I can't believe He does when Marge Dursley arrives.
Liam.
Dear Liam,
Ouch. Poor you. Come and stay with me, if you like.
Tina.
Dear Tina,
Thanks, I'll take you up on that. It's a lifesaver. Marge Dursley makes horrible comments sometimes - sorry, all the time.
Harry stormed out of No. 4 last night, almost crying. Then I saw this black dog in the shadows - it was huge. I got the same feeling as when I saw that Cyril Clack's face on the TV. It was freaky, Tina, I swear.
Liam.
Dear Liam,
It's Sirius Black, I think, not Cyril Clack. I got the same feeling too. I can't get that picture out of my mind - despair, agony, and even fear. And then insanity. Insane laughter rings in my ears - I think I'm going crazy!
I know what you'll say. Don't be so morbid. And you're right. But it's murdering me…help!
Hope to see you soon,
Tina.
A/N: And just for the record, Tina does not go insane.
Disclaimer: Standard.
Jenny.