That evening, Uncle Vernon opened the door to my cupboard. He looked apprehensive as a spider was crawling rather close to his feet. "Haile—"
"Don't step on Bertha!" I cried as he raised his foot to stomp on the spider.
"Bertha? Anyway, Haile-"
"Where's my letter?" I shot at him, cutting him off.
"It was a mistake. I have burned it," Uncle Vernon said simply. I banged my fist down on my hard bed.
"No, it wasn't!" I argued. "It said—"
"SILENCE!" shouted Uncle Vernon, and Bertha scurried away under the bed. He forced his face into a smile.
"Yes…Haile...about this…cupboard… your aunt and I have been…thinking, yes, that, what with all the spiders and its smallness…the cupboard simply isn't acceptable anymore. Why don't you move into Dudley's second bedroom?"
"Are you kidding me?" I asked, dumbstruck.
"Take this stuff upstairs now," Uncle Vernon snapped, as he always did when I asked questions. I gathered my small pile of secondhand clothes and my few belongings and brought them upstairs, saying goodbye to Bertha, Frank, Corey, and Natalie, the whole gang.
Everything in Dudley's second bedroom was broken. All the things he had ever owned and broke. I couldn't imagine how anyone could just waste money like this. If I had money, I'd use it go far away from here...
Although I was satisfied to be in a real bedroom for the first time in my life, but I couldn't help wondering…why? Why now? Did those letters addressed to me have something to do with it?
The following morning, Dudley kept shooting me nasty glances. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia kept looking at each other and shooting me quick, hurried glances as if I might explode. I kept quiet and sighed, picking at my waffle. It was definitely nice to be in a bedroom as last night had brought me a wonderful sleep, but it didn't change the fact that I still didn't have a family.
Finally, there came the click and flop of the mail slot and letters. I looked up, alert, and leaped out of my chair, hurriedly. "I'll get the mail!" I practically screamed, but Uncle Vernon grabbed my arm and Dudley ran instead. I never saw Dudley move so fast in my life.
We heard Dudley's yell a second later.
"There's another one! Ms. Haile Potter, The Smallest Bedroom, 4 Privet Drive—"
Uncle Vernon released my arm and we both scrambled down the hall, knocking into each other, until he stretched out his arm, knocking me backwards, onto the floor.
"GO TO YOUR ROOMS!" Uncle Vernon screamed, and Dudley and I scuttled off, leaving the letters on the floor.
I paced my room, panting from the small fight. They were at it again, were they? Well, next time I would make sure they wouldn't fail.
The next day, I awoke at four in the morning. I smiled at having woken up at a good time, and for the next two hours, I waited. Finally, when the clock on the wall read 6:00AM, I went downstairs, careful to skip the creaky stair and not turn on any lights.
I would wait for the mail carrier and read the letters before anyone even knew they had arrived. It was brilliant, I thought, as I approached the front door.
Finally, those letters would be—
"AAAAARRRRGH!"
I jumped a foot in the air, scared out of my mind. I had stepped on something squishy and rather large, and it had yelled. There was no mistaking it, however, as Aunt Petunia turned the lights on and Dudley came following behind her down the stairs, I had trodden on my uncle's face, who has making sure I didn't do exactly what I had been trying to do.
I was yelled at for a very, very long time, before I was forced to make some breakfast and tea. I moodily cracked eggs into the frying pan, getting a bit of shell in them, as I always did, but I didn't bother to fish them out this time. I felt that this time they really deserved it.
Uncle Vernon had shredded the letters and thrown the pieces into the trash compactor. He stayed home from work and nailed up the mail slot that day. "Ruddy—letters—no-good—abnormal—" was all I could make out.
The next day, what must have been twelve letters arrived for me. I was totally astounded and a little excited. Someone wanted to talk to me! I just had to know. The mystery was killing me, but I was out of ideas. Since the mail slot was nailed up, the letters came through all the windows and door cracks.
So, Uncle Vernon nailed up the door cracks and the windows. I couldn't be sure, but he seemed little off his rocker lately. That was even more mystifying. My aunt and uncle seemed to know exactly who these letters were from, because that's the only way they'd want me to avoid them.
The weekend was even worse. Double the letters that came on Friday came in the egg cartons on Saturday. I was almost doubled over in laughter. These people, whoever they were, were going to desperate measures…all for me! What was so special about me?
Sunday, however, was epic.
We were all sitting at the breakfast table, a little less tense, because Sunday meant no letters. Uncle Vernon contemplated this happily as he began to butter the newspaper. I cleared my throat, but he continued.
"No post on Sundays," he repeated, for the sixth time, "No damn letters today—"
All of a sudden, a loud noise uproared from the kitchen chimney, cutting him off. The item that ejected from the chimney hit him sharply on the back of his head. I realized, gleefully, that it was a letter.
I jumped out of my chair to get the letter, but before I could take a single step, hundreds of letters came flooding out of the chimney. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia yelled and screamed, but I excitedly jumped up and down, hoping to catch one. Dudley had run out of the room, arms shielding his face.
When Uncle Vernon got over the shock, he shuffled Aunt Petunia out after Dudley and grabbed me as I struggled to get loose, and swung with me over his shoulder, throwing me into the hall. He slammed the door shut tight behind him.
He looked quite mad as he pulled out about half of his mustache, his face a nasty shade of purple, and his teeth bared like a saber-toothed tiger. "That does it," he said, rather calmly, "Meet me back here in five minutes, exactly. We're leaving. No talking back!" he roared at Dudley, as his son had begun to protest.
After that, no one argued with him. I ran up to my room, thoughts and questions flooding my mind. Who were these people?
I packed a few sets of clothes, not knowing how long we would be gone for, and I ran downstairs as fast I could. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon appeared moments later, and Dudley took the longest of course. Uncle Vernon shuffled him along by giving him a huge slap. He had gone mad.
A few minutes later, a partially insane Uncle Vernon, a quiet but scared Aunt Petunia, a crying Dudley, and a confused me climbed into the car. And off we drove.
For the whole entire day, we drove. I had a feeling Uncle Vernon didn't have a clue where he was going, because he kept turning sharply in random places, muttering. "Shake 'em off, shake 'em off."
We had no meals, much to the displeasure of Dudley, who was crying by the time it turned dark outside. He had had a terrible day, but really, hadn't we all?
We finally found a motel, that looked extremely disgusting, and I had to share a room with my cousin. Dudley fell asleep straight away, but I lay in bed, getting my thoughts straight. I concluded that I had absolutely no idea who was mailing me the letters…but I continued to suspect that my aunt and uncle did; that's why they were so scared of me reading it.
Was it another relative? Was my dream coming true; was there some unknown relation coming to finally, finally take me away? The feeling of hope overwhelmed me, and I tried desperately to push those thoughts away. Uncle Vernon had reassured me many a time that dreams were a waste of time. I didn't want to get my hopes up.
The next day we ate breakfast at the hotel restaurant, which smelled of rotten fish and was extremely cold. I could barely eat my stale cereal and toast; I had too much on my mind. I wanted this mystery to be over with and solved.
A tall lady, who was the owner of the hotel, approached our table to our surprise. "'Scuse me, but is one of you Haile Potter? Only got about an 'undred of these at the front desk." She read the envelope out loud. "Ms. Haile. Potter. Room 17. Railview Hotel. Cokeworth." She gave a small chuckle. "A 'undred letters….well, I never."
I stood up and smiled, and said, "I'm Haile Potter," and the lady handed me them. Uncle Vernon jumped out of his chair like he had just been electrocuted, and ran after me, as I had tried to escape, to open the letter.
I ran through the hotel lobby, attracting some unwanted attention. Then, I spotted my sanctuary. The ladies' restroom. I ran straight for it and locked myself in a stall. I tore open the envelope. I faintly heard the door to the restroom opening, but I wasn't listening. I took out the letter and with trembling hands, began to unfold it…
Uncle Vernon's face appeared above the stall next to mine. He was standing on the toilet. I screamed and tried to run away, clutching the letter tightly, but he heaved himself, somehow, over the wall, and landed flat on me.
I was squished on the ground and I sputtered for breath as he knocked the wind out of me. He snatched the letter from my grip and walked briskly out of the bathroom. I ran after him, furious. I jumped on his back, in the lobby, resulting in many shocked gasps and cries of the small crowd.
"Get—off—me," he spat, throwing me off his back. I landed hard the hotel floor. Dudley and Aunt Petunia were all over Uncle Vernon, making sure he wasn't hurt.
The people in the lobby were shaking their heads, and more people had ventured out of their rooms, to see what the commotion was. I stood up and stomped my foot angrily.
Easily enough, we were thrown out the hotel ten minutes later. We were on the road again. We seemed to be driving everywhere before Uncle Vernon stopped the car at a coast and ventured out somewhere.
Rain beat down on the car heavily. I stared out of the car window, sleepily and dreamily. Dudley was whining for the twenty-seventh hour in a row.
Then I remembered something. Tomorrow…was my birthday! I was turning eleven. I smiled faintly to myself. I knew it would be nothing special, like every other year, but at least I was a whole year older, one year closer to moving out on my own.
"Tomorrow is my birthday," I told them, breaking the tense silence. Dudley didn't even care and my aunt faintly nodded, but she wasn't even listening.
Finally, Uncle Vernon returned, carrying a long, thin package. Aunt Petunia started to question the box, but he intervened, practically yelling, "Found the perfect place! Come on, everyone!"
The rain was freezing cold, as we all clammered out the car, shivering. "Storm forecast for tonight!" shouted my uncle, happily, "And this gentleman's kindly agreed to lend us his boat."
A really creepy old man walked up to us and pointed to an old rowboat that was rocking unreassuringly back and forth in the stormy sea.
If it was cold outside in the rain, it was nothing compared to being in the small boat. The sea sprayed what felt like icicles piercing our skin, and the icy wind didn't help. Finally, we approached a rock out at sea, with a tiny shack set upon it. It was most random thing I had ever witnessed.
The inside of the run-down shack was as bad as outside. It smelled disgusting, it was still cold, and besides there being only two rooms, I was forced to sleep on the floor, while Dudley got the couch, and my aunt and uncle got the bedroom.
We all ate Uncle Vernon's "rations," which consisted of four Luna bars and four cheese sticks. The old fireplace didn't work, so it remained chilly all night long. Opposite to the rest of the us, Uncle Vernon was in a very good mood as no one would ever find us here. I kicked the hardwood floor angrily.
The monstrous storm was still going strong when everyone finally went to bed. I sighed and turned over on the hard floor. I couldn't get comfortable as I was hungry, cold, and confused. Like many other nights, I thought about my parents and imagined what they looked like and I thought about if they loved me or not.
The idea of someone…anyone…loving me seemed absurd. But another one of my biggest dreams was that someday, someone would.
I glanced at the wristwatch on Dudley's outstretched arm. Ten minutes until I was eleven. My stomach jumped. I waited patiently, hearing strange noises outside and trying to forget about them. I was very sleepy…I could fall asleep any second now…
Ten seconds….nine…eight…seven…six…five…four—my eyes closed, ready for the sensation of rest—two…one…
BOOM.
I sat up sharply. My eyes weren't tired anymore; I was fully awake and alert. Even Dudley had jumped awake and called stupidly, "Where's the cannon?"
BOOM.
Someone was knocking on the door, causing the whole shack to shake. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia came running into the room, my uncle holding a rifle.
"WHO IS IT?" my uncle roared. "I'm armed, I'm warning you!"
A pause. Then—
SMASH!
The door was knocked down with a huge amount of force. A man stood in the doorway, to my complete shock. He barely looked human, however…he was more of a giant.
He stood twice the size of an average man, and had curly, long wild hair, and a shaggy beard. His eyes were kind, though, black little circles hidden behind all the hair. He wore a long coat and squeaky black boots. He also had with him an owl perched on his shoulder, as if his appearance couldn't get any stranger.
He fixed the door. Then he turned to look at us. I felt the urge to scream. "Make me a cup o' tea, would yeh? It's been a difficult journey…"
My mouth dropped in shock. I rubbed my eyes frantically. Was this actually happening? Had I drifted off to sleep? No, this definitely seemed real…
He stomped over to the couch where Dudley sat, cowering in fear. "Budge up, yeh great lump," said the strange man.
I let out a small laugh, as Dudley scrambled to stand behind his mother, who was standing behind her husband, cowering in fear, also. The stranger winked at me.
"An' here's Haile!" he boomed, beaming at me.
"I—" Before I could continue, Uncle Vernon interrupted me.
"LEAVE AT THIS INSTANT!" my uncle yelled. "You have no—no right!"
"Shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune," shot the giant, as he grabbed the rifle from Vernon and bent it into a knot, like it was merely rubber, and threw it behind him carelessly.
Uncle Vernon whimpered, but I mumbled, "Whoa…"
"Anyway," said the stranger, turning back to me—my stomach did a flip-flop—"a very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here—I mighta sat on it at some point, but it should taste all right."
I stared, mouth ajar, as he pulled a box out and handed it to me. I opened it, my hands shaking. Inside it was a large chocolate cake. It read, Happy Birthday, Haile with icing.
I looked up at him and exclaimed, "But…how do you know it's my birthday? I don't even know you!" I hoped I didn't sound rude, but I was deeply puzzled.
The giant chuckled and said, "I haven't introduced meself, o' course! Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts." We shook hands, and I smiled back at him. What's Hogwarts?
I was about to ask more questions, but he turned away and blocking the fireplace from our view, proceeded to do something that we couldn't see, but after he sat on the sofa, there was a strong fire burning, filling the shack with light and warmth.
He then continued to cook sausages and make tea. No one spoke, probably all dumbstruck, but when the delicious smell of sausages cooking filled the air, Dudley fidgeted.
"Don't touch anything he gives you, son," Uncle Vernon said sharply.
"Yer great pig of a son don' need no more stuffin'," Rubeus Hagrid chuckled.
He offered me some sausages instead, and for once in my life, I ate happily while Dudley did not. It felt wonderful, but I continued to stare at the giant. I sighed and finally said, "I'm sorry…sir…but I really just have no idea who you are?"
He sipped his tea and wiped his mouth. "Call me Hagrid," he told me, "everyone does. An' like I said, I'm Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts—yeh'll know all about Hogwarts, I expect."
"Uh…say what?" I asked, feeling quite stupid. Hogwarts? What was that, some sort of animal or city?
Hagrid dropped his teacup. "Don' tell me yeh don' know about Hogwarts?" he asked, raising his voice a little.
"I'm very sorry!" I cried, not wanting to upset him. "But I really don't! Am I supposed to…?"
"YER BLOODY WELL SUPPOSED TO!" Hagrid boomed, shaking the whole shack. I got to my feet, a little scared, but mostly confused. "DURSLEY!" He turned to my uncle. "I knew yeh weren' lettin' the girl get her letters, but I didn' think yeh wouldn' tell her abou' Hogwarts!"
"What is Hogwarts?!" I practically shouted, sick of being confused.
"What is Hogwarts…" Hagrid repeated, running his hands through his long, tangled hair. "Yeh really don' know. But didn't yeh wonder where your parents learned it all?"
"Learned what? You knew my parents?" I asked, hopefully. What on Earth was going on here?!
"WAIT JUS' ONE SECOND!" Hagrid thundered. The Dursleys were crouching against the wall in fear. "You mean to ter tell me that this girl—this girl!—knows nothin' abou'—abou' ANYTHIN'!?"
"Hey, I'm not completely brainless!" I said, defending myself. "I did go to school, you know." I put my hands on my hips.
"Not their kind of school. I mean, our world. Your world, my world, your parents' world…"
"What world!?" I yelled. Hagrid looked enraged beyond reason.
Uncle Vernon had gone pale and Aunt Petunia's face was horror-stricken. "Yeh don' even know that—that you're famous! Your parents…famous! Yeh don' know?!"
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I have no idea what you're talking about," I said, helplessly.
"Yeh don' know what yeh are?" Hagrid asked desperately.
"STOP!" yelled Uncle Vernon. "Do not tell my niece ANYTHING."
Hagrid turned on him, angrily. "You never told her? Never told her what was in the letter? You've kept all that from her?" His voice trembled with rage.
"PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!" I shrieked, pleading. I was beginning to go crazy. What was all this? What didn't I know? And why were Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia so insistent on him not telling me?
"NO!" Uncle Vernon thundered frantically.
"SHUT UP!" roared Hagrid. "Haile," he continued before Uncle Vernon could stop him, "Yer a witch."
Silence fell over the shack, except for the outside raging sea. The words seemed to echo in my head, over and over and over again. 'Yer a witch.' A witch…a witch!? WHAT THE HECK!?
"A witch?!" I shrieked, finding my voice. "What do you mean?" From the children's stories I had read when I was younger, witches were normally bad, ugly, old hags, with pointed black hats and rotting teeth and green hair and all that. I was…a witch? This was some kind of joke, obviously.
"I mean, yer a witch," Hagrid repeated, sitting down. I walked closer to him, my eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Yeh need to read yer letter, I reckon."
Finally, finally, I took the letter from Hagrid. With trembling fingers, I opened up the envelope addressed to 'Ms. Haile Potter, The Floor, Hut-on-the-Rock, The Sea.'
The title on top of the letter read, 'Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.'
I looked up, smiling. "So Hogwarts is a school," I said, and Hagrid nodded patiently, while Aunt Petunia clucked. I read on. 'Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore.'
"Albus Dumbledore…" I repeated aloud.
"The best wizard in the world," Hagrid said, beaming.
I read on, intrigued. 'Dear Ms. Potter, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress.'
I read the letter at least five times before I spoke aloud. "Wow," I said vaguely, sinking to the floor, the precious piece of paper clutched in my hand. "Holy toledo."
"Bi' of a shock?" Hagrid chuckled, his good-natured personality returning. He wrote a note and gave it to the owl that had accompanied him quickly. The owl flew out into the storm when Hagrid shooed him off. My mouth was open yet again. An owl?
"She's not going," firmly stated my uncle.
"Oh," I started to protest, sadly, but Hagrid grunted.
"And who's stoppin' her?" Hagrid boomed, and my face broke into a grin. "A Muggle like yerself?"
"A what?" I asked, questions forming in my head like explosions.
"A Muggle," Hagrid repeated. "Non-magic folk like them. Too bad yeh had to grew up in a family o' the biggest Muggles I ever saw." My eyebrows shot up.
"We swore when we took her in we'd stop this nonsense! Witch, indeed!" my uncle roared.
Shock poured over me as I turned to my uncle, dizzy with overwhelming emotion, I shouted, "YOU KNEW!?"
"KNEW!" shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly. "Of course we bloody well knew! How could you not be, my sister being what she was. She got that same blasted letter and went off to that—that school—and came home every vacation doing all sorts of rubbish! I was the only one who ever saw her for what she truly was—afreak! But for my parents, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were—proud—to have a witch in the family!"
She took in a deep breath and continued, "Then she met your dad, and got married and had you, and I knew when you were born you'd be the same, just as abnormal, and then, she got herself blown up along with her good-for-nothing husband and we got landed with you!"
I had gone as pale as my uncle. I was speechless for a moment, then I screamed, "You told me they died in a car crash!"
"CAR CRASH!?" thundered Hagrid, jumping to his feet again, so that the Dursleys backed up again. "How could a car crash kill Lily an' James Potter?!"
I smiled faintly at hearing their names. My own parents…it had all been a lie. They hadn't died in a car crash after all. It seemed like everything was finally becoming clear, very slowly. "Hagrid…please tell me the truth," I pleaded, walking a few steps towards him.
"I don' think I'm the righ' person ter tell yeh, but yeh gotta know…can't go off ter Hogwarts not knowin'," Hagrid said softly. Then he told me, "It begins with a person called…so strange yeh don' know his name…he's infamous in our world…"
"What's his name?" I asked, intrigued.
"No one says it out loud…too scary…but it's…Voldemort. Don' make me say it again. Anyway, this wizard, about twenty years ago, started lookin' fer followers…"
Hagrid launched into the tale you all know so well, about Voldemort, his followers, how he murdered my parents, and tried to kill me, but I somehow survived and sent the Dark Lord into hiding, with just a scar on my forehead. I listened intensely, not speaking until he was done.
When he finished, my mind flashed back to that green flash of light and I remembered something else for the first time: a high, cold cruel laugh. Voldemort. Wetness had appeared in my eyes and I brushed it away impatiently. "…I…" I started, but I didn't know what to say.
"Took yeh from the house meself. Brought yeh ter this lot…"
"But what happened to Volde—I mean, You-Know-Who?" I asked, regaining control of myself.
"Some say he died. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die, so must of us reckon he's still out somewhere, but lost his powers. And it's all 'cause o' you. People who was on his side came back ter ours."
"Load of old tosh," said Uncle Vernon and I turned to him, angrily. How could they keep this from me?"You listen here, girl. The world is better off with people like—people like you."
Hagrid and I ignored him and I thought about all this. I finished the Darkest Lord of all-time? It just…it just didn't seem to be real. I wasn't special…I was just a regular girl with a peculiar scar and wild, black hair and I went to normal school and…
"Hagrid," I said softly. "I'm not a witch. I don't think I ever could be."
Hagrid laughed. "No? Never made things happen when you was scared or angry?"
I looked back and with dawning realization, remembered the time of the Christmas tree, my unpierced ears, running away from Dudley and his friends, and finally, the boa constrictor. I grinned widely at Hagrid, and Hagrid was smiling back. "Actually…come to think of it…."
"Haile Potter, not a witch—you wait, you'll be right famous at Hogwarts," Hagrid said happily.
"She's not going!" Uncle Vernon hissed. "She's not going to some—some magic school—"
"If she wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won' stop her," growled Hagrid. "Lily an' James Potter's daughter not goin' ter Hogwarts! Ha! She's off ter the finest school of witchcraft there is! She'll be with youngsters of her own sort, fer a change, an' she'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had, Albus Dumbled—"
"I'M NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HER MAGIC TRICKS!" roared Uncle Vernon. This time, however, Hagrid showed no mercy.
He pulled out his umbrella, which I assumed was magical, and yelled, "NEVER—INSULT—ALBUS—DUMBLEDORE—IN—FRONT—OF—ME!"
He pointed the umbrella at Dudley, who was now pigging out on my very own birthday cake, and made him sprout a piggy tail through his trousers. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon yelled out and hurried him to the next room. I roared with laughter.
I was still laughing when he continued, "Be grateful if yeh didn' mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts. I'm—er—not usually supposed ter do magic."
"Why not?" I asked.
"I got expelled from Hogwarts back in the day, in me third year. Snapped me wand in half an' everything. Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper, though, great man, he is."
"Why were you expelled, Hagrid?" I asked, intrigued on how you could be expelled from a wizard school.
"Er…time fer bed!" Hagrid said loudly. "Lots ter do tomorrow." He handed me his humongous coat. "Sleep under that. It'll help the floor a bi'."
"Hagrid…can you promise me something?" I asked, softly.
"What is it?" he asked, laying down on the sofa.
"Can you promise me this isn't some sort of a joke?" I asked, hopefully.
He gave a low chuckle. "Haile, that, I can promise."
As we settled down to go to bed, I found that I had never been so happy in my entire eleven years of living. I thought for a bit before finally drifting off to sleep. Me…a witch….a famous witch at that! And my parents…it was just reassuring to know they actually lived.
My heart leapt at the thought of meeting people who actually knew them! I'd finally find out all about myself and the family I never had…The magic world, huh? The wizarding world.
My dream was finally coming true: an unknown relation coming to take me away. Was it too good to be true? Guess I'd find out in the morning.
