Disclaimer: this insane little one-shot was entirely for personal amusement and I am certainly not claiming the characters as mine.
Warning: some cursing and lots and lots of weird ramblings by a lonely boy.
Summary: Harry writes to the Order of the Phoenix during the summer after his 5th year. The letters were supposedly sent every 3 days (though special circumstances might have required missives to be sent outside of that schedule). I took many liberties, but what the heck. That's why this is a "fanfic."
Notes: "---" separates the letters.
And, Sirius is not dead, not because of my author-ly whims, but because Harry's grief would interfere with the point (if there's any at all) of these letters.
Without further ado,
Letters
from 4 Privet Drive
I'm fine
---
I'm fine---
I'm fine
---
Dear Order of the Phoenix,
The HELL?!?! You didn't have to bash down the front door just because I haven't been writing more than 2 words in my notes! I just didn't think it was required of me to elaborate on the fact that I'm 'ok'.
For future reference, when I say I'm FINE, it does not mean that the Dursley's are beating me!
Honestly, who comes up with these things?
-Harry
---
Safe. Fed. Clothed. Housed. Not kidnapped. (hope that's enough elaboration)
---
Safe. Fed. Clothed. Housed. Not kidnapped.
---
Safe. Fed. Housed. Not kidnapped.
---
Safe. Fed. Clothed. Housed. Uh. Definitely kidnapped.
---
oh, never mind. That was Fred and George, who seem to be under the impression that they must rescue me from my warded residence in Surrey simply because I FORGOT TO MENTION BEING CLOTHED. Merlin!
I'm not being abused or being stripped naked by my uncle, damn it! You people seriously have some issues.
---
Thanks for saving me from the twins (nefarious bastards who don't know the difference between a co-owner of the WWW and a guinea pig), Phoenixy people.
---
Ok, who had the bright idea of triggering the car alarm by apparating away with an ear-splitting 'pop'? Thanks a bunch. Now my uncle's convinced I was somehow involved, and is currently turning an ugly shade of purple.
---
…WHICH DID NOT MEAN I WANTED YOU TO STORM THE HOUSE!
No, seriously, relax. I don't know why everyone's gotten so jumpy…you didn't have a problem leaving me with the Dursley's before, right? They haven't suddenly become dangerous or anything…If anything, a whack on the head with a frying pan is as bad as it ever got, and families usually do worse than that, don't they? Merlin, why is everything blown out of proportions when I'm involved?
---
Well. Now that you've all gone and scared the Dursley's shitless, they haven't spoken a single word to me in 3 days. Thanks guys. Very enjoyable experience. You should all try it one of these days…
---
Am bored. Especially since I've been specifically told not to leave the premises. Nothing to do except do summer assignments. Happy?
---
ARGH. Am done with every single essay. And have revised each one twice (except for the potions essay which was revised a half-dozen times)
BORED, BORED, BORED…Send me books to read, Hermione!
---
Am attaching my assignments to this letter. Am hoping it's ok to hand them in early. Am thoroughly sick of reading the same lines over and over again.
Am quietly molding in my room.
Thanks for the 40 lb. worth of books, Hermy.
---
Haha. Loved the Howler, Hermy. The Dursley's most definitely did not.
And NO, Phoenixy people, I don't need any rescuing.
---
Have finished all the books except for the Giant Encyclopedia of Potions Ingredients (Have read 3 pages before using it as a footrest). Please send more.
---
Hermy, you're cutting me off from my only source of entertainment just because I used Grawp's nickname for you? Why can Ron use it and I can't? Am rather upset. See these blurred letters? My tears, I tell you.
---
Ok, fine. You got me. It was just water. But couldn't you have had mercy on me?? Now I'll have to resort to pointless games with myself for another three days…Bloody hell.
---
There are approximately 324 tiles on my ceiling, each with approximately 1500 bumps (Sample population: tile 1- 1458; tile 2- 1613; tile 3- 1537; tile 4- 1420; tile 5- 1577), which means there are approximately 486,000 bumps on my ceiling. Likewise, the north-west wall (the easiest to count because nothing obstructs it) sports nearly 300,000 (289,442 to be exact) bumps, so all four walls combined would have about 1.2 million…or approximately 900,000 after subtracting an estimate of about 100,000 for the window and 200,000 for the door. There are approximately 1.386 million bumps on the ceiling and the walls.
---
Thanks, Hermy. :)
---
Thanks for all the birthday presents, Phoenixy people! I can't wait to try them all out once the school year starts!
For the non-phoenixy people:
Hermy: An owl-order catalog for Flourish and Botts? Are you trying to tell me you're tired of sending me books? sniff…I'm hurt!
Ron: Thanks for sweets! Now I can tease Dudley with it…muahaha!
Ginny: You sure have a talent with hand-sewing! I'll treasure the mittens. (have you considered helping Hermy make stuff for SPEW? grin) I've named them "Georgiana" and "Frederick."
No, really, thanks everyone. You've saved me from a certain death-by-boredom.
---
Am enjoying myself with the gifts. Should stave the boredom till September.
---
29 days till Hogwarts!
Am faring reasonably well. Am also making good progress on the stash of birthday sweets.
---
26 days till Hogwarts!
Hey, couldn't I stay someplace else for the rest of the summer? Must I stay here for the whole summer, mmm?
---
HELP!
(blood splatters)
---
I know…it was wrong of me to trick you all like that. But seriously, I need to get out of here. The Dursley's are not treating me badly, but I think I've forgotten how to speak! You know, verbally communicate with other human beings? Don't you think that's important? How am I going to say spells and answer questions in class once the school year starts?
Please, take me to the Burrow! Or even Grimmauld Place!
---
You guys are heartless, that's what you are.
---
14 days….just 14 days…
---
11 days…
---
(singing erupts)
100 bottles of beer on the wall, 100 bottles of beer! Take one down, and pass it around…99 bottles of beer on the waaaallll!
99 bottles of beer on the wall, 99 bottles of beer! Take one down, and pass it around…98 bottles of beer on the waaaallll!
98 bottles of beer on the wall, 98 bottles of beer! Take one down, and pass it around…97 bottles of beer on the waaaallll!
97 bottles of beer on the wall, 97 bottles of beer! Take one down, and pass it around…96 bottles of beer on the waaaallll!
96 bottles of beer on the wall, 96 bottles of beer! Take one down, and pass it around…95 bottles of beer on the waaaallll!
95 bottles of beer on the wall, 95 bottles of beer! Take one down, and pass it around…94 bottles of beer on the waaaallll!
94 bottles of beer on the wall, 94 bottles of beer! Take one down, and pass it around…93 bottles of beer on the waaaallll!
93 bottles of beer on the wall, 93 bottles of beer! Take one down, and pass it around…92 bottles of beer on the waaaallll!
….(continued until the 20's, at which point Dumbledore finally used his famed reserves of magic to smother the Howler)
---
Did you enjoy my glorious vocal talents?
Tee hee. Guess what I dreamed last night? There was a hippogriff that became king and banished Voldemort to Middle Earth and then KA-POW! Sauron combusted him with his floating, fiery eye-ness, then a giant cheese wheel appeared out of nowhere and all the Voldemort-powder stuck to the cheese wheel and it rolled and rolled and there were pirates who were fighting for a key that stepped all over the Voldemort-powder while fighting on the rolling cheese wheel and then it finally rolled over a cliff and fell in front of a giant abbey full of little talking mammals that chopped it up into little pieces and ate the Voldemort-flavored cheese with delicious strawberry cordial.
only 5 days left!
---
3 days! 3 days! 3 days! 3 days! 3 days! YEAH!
And 3 days till I can exact my revenge on whoever sent me the vial of "Mrs. Sagehen's Mild-Mental-Disturbance Cure"! Hurrah!
---
HOGWARTS, HERE I COME!
the end. ;)