Chapter Two: The Battle of Letters
"What is that smell?" Hattie asked one morning without hiding her disgust by it.
Just as curious, Harry went over to the tub in the sink to see what it was. "It looks like rags floating in gray water. What's this?"
Having been tightening already, Aunt Petunia's lips pursed tighter. "Your new school uniforms."
"Oh. I didn't realize it had to be so wet."
Hattie covered her mouth quickly with her hand, amused at Harry's false stupidy. It was something she would normally be doing. Getting on people's nerves with wrong assumptions was always high on her list.
"Don't be stupid," snapped Aunt Petunia. She shot a look at Hattie as if Hattie had something to do with this. "I'm dying some of Dudley's old things gray for you. It'll look just like everyone else's when I'm finished."
Hattie then peered into the tub to see overlarge clothes inside and her heart fell a little bit. As though Stonewall High would be terrible enough with gray as their uniform color, her and Harry would be swimming in those without the aid of water. Hattie sighed, knowing she'd be using her safety pins she'd taken for her clothes onto these as well. It only solved the problem of them not falling off of her though.
At least Aunt Petunia didn't rely on all of Dudley's old things for both of them, but Hattie knew they would never receive the same treatment as Dudley in the Dursley household. Uncle Vernon thought it was terrible enough she didn't completely rely on just handing them all of Dudley's old things. Shoes, undergarments, and a few shirts were purchased cheap to have something that fit on them better.
Harry's glasses had been a complete nightmare to get with Uncle Vernon bellowing like a wounded animal about it.
With wrinkled noses, Uncle Vernon and Dudley came in. Uncle Vernon sat and picked up the newspaper to read as usual. Dudley came in, carrying his Smelting stick as he had been since he got it, tapping it against various items as he went to sit at the table. They heard the mail slot.
"Get the mail Dudley," Uncle Vernon said.
"Make Harry get it."
Of course, Hattie thought, now that Dudley is sitting. She rolled her eyes at her cousin and he grinned back. And of course it was Harry Dudley wanted to do it.
"Get the mail Harry."
"Make Dudley get it."
"Poke him with your Smelting stick Dudley."
Harry dodged the stick easily and Hattie whacked the end of it back down. Dudley stuck out his tongue. His stick came back up and tapped her hand. She grabbed it, thus starting an impromptu tugging war much to Dudley's delight. Uncle Vernon was too busy with his papers to notice their bit of fun, but Aunt Petunia swooped over and put her hand on the middle of it. Dudley froze and Hattie let go of her end. She gave them both a withering look in silent reprimand.
When she went back to check on the clothes, Hattie mimicked her in poor fashion and Dudley snorted.
"Hurry up boy! What are you doing? Checking for letter bombs?" Uncle Vernon chuckled, but no one else did at his joke.
Harry reentered the room, handing Uncle Vernon the bill and the postcard. He sat and stared at a yellowing thick envelope he had kept. Hattie blinked. There were two there. Baffled, he looked up at her and displayed the emerald writing on them. Each one was addressed to an H. Potter. Who would be writing them? Hattie looked back to Harry, just as baffled as her brother.
Concerned with his own mail to pay mind to them, Uncle Vernon shared the contents of the postcard with Aunt Petunia. Harry and Hattie studied each of their envelopes with interest. Dudley leaned forward to look at them as well. He poked Harry in the side with a finger. Harry scowled, but too curious about it, Hattie and he opened their first bit of mail, matching parchment inside. Dudley stretched his neck out farther to see.
The Smelting stick clattered to the ground and they jumped at the noise. Next thing they knew was the letters had been ripped out of their hands.
"Hey!" Both Hattie and her brother protested, trying to snatch their mail back. "That's ours!"
"Who'd be writing to you?" Uncle Vernon unfolded one, his face going suddenly from red to green. Dudley got up and hurriedly made his way around Hattie and Harry, trying to jump to see the letter. His dad's face went a greyish white. "P-P-Petunia?"
Annoyed, Dudley kicked at Harry as he tried to get a foothold on the chair, attempting to see what his father held. Uncle Vernon held it out of reach. Aunt Petunia made her way over and began to read it. Clutching her throat, she made a funny noise. "Vernon! Oh my goodness! Vernon!"
They stared at each other, forgetting that Hattie and Harry and Dudley were in the room.
"Dad! I want to read that letter!"
"I want to read it," said Harry. "As it is mine and Hattie's in the first place!"
Hattie pushed at Harry's chair. Harry quickly got up and did the same. Atop the chair, Dudley made a decent swipe at the letter Uncle Vernon held out, nearly getting it.
"Get out! All of you!" He stuffed the letter back inside its envelope and gripped tightly to both in a large fist.
"I want my letter."
"Let me see it!"
"OUT!"
Uncle Vernon grabbed his son by an arm and shoved Hattie and Harry out of the kitchen with the other. Hattie scrambled quickly out of his arm's reach. Uncle Vernon slammed the door to the kitchen shut. Letters inside with him.
Immediately, the three of them had a silent battle at the door, vying for spots. Dudley won the listening place at the keyhole. Hattie and Harry pressed close together where the door met the floor. Not realizing the extra listeners, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia held a fierce conversation about the letters and the unknown people behind them.
The three of them all looked at each other, united for once on being left out. Harry was the first to speak up. "Write back to who?"
"Stamp what out of us?"
"Why won't they let me read your letters," Dudley complained.
"Do you think they are watching?"
"That's creepy," Hattie and Dudley said together.
"Where's my letter? Who was writing to us?"
Hattie kept beside her brother as he peppered Uncle Vernon with questions the second he was in the household. They had been waiting all day to ask on where their letters went. As had Dudley, who had disappeared a minute ago to get a drink from the kitchen.
"No one. It was addressed to you brats by mistake."
Dudley rushed into the room. "No it wasn't," he declared loudly. "I want to read their letters dad."
"It was addressed to you brats by mistake. I burned it," Uncle Vernon said.
"It wasn't a mistake. It had our names on it. And our cupboard on it," Harry insisted.
"Silence!" Uncle Vernon took a few deep breaths and then forced a smile. Worried by the smile, Hattie tugged Harry back, bumping into Dudley behind them. "Uh, yes. About the cupboard. Your aunt and I have been thinking, you two have really been getting too big for it." Understatement of the century, Hattie declared silently in her head. Where was Uncle Vernon going to shove them into this time? "We think it would be nice if you moved into Dudley's second bedroom."
"Why?" Harry managed out.
"What," Dudley shouted. "I need that room!"
"Don't ask questions," snapped Uncle Vernon. "Take your stuff upstairs. Now."
The Dursley household had four bedrooms. One for Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. Another for a guest room, typically for Uncle Vernon's horrible sister Marge. One where Dudley slept. And the last one for all of Dudley's broken toys and things that wouldn't fit in his first bedroom. It only took Hattie and Harry one trip to move all their things upstairs to that room.
Hattie took a look around the room, recognizing many of the broken things in here. The only things that appeared untouched were the books up on the shelves. She knew otherwise. Between these and ones she checked out from the school library, Hattie had read many of them out loud to either her brother, cousin, or both.
Harry sat on the bed, doing the same. Hattie plopped onto it as well and stared up at the ceiling.
"Yesterday, I would have given anything to be in this room."
"And today, we all know about that mysterious letter," Hattie said.
"I'd rather have that."
"The same here Harry. I bet it has something to do with why we're here. The people watching us? Maybe it's the same ones who dropped us off here for our parents after the car crash. Child services?"
"It would make sense on why Uncle Vernon decided to give us an actual bedroom."
The morning after their letters and thus moving upstairs, the kitchen table was silent. Dudley had thrown a fuss about them being in his second bedroom, but hadn't, for once, gotten his way. Her cousin sulked at the table and glared over at Harry. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia kept sharing looks across the table. Hattie wished he would pick up his typical newspaper. It was odd to see her uncle without it at breakfast. Also, she rather enjoyed the time she didn't have to see his face.
In a rare show of being nice, Uncle Vernon made Dudley go get the mail that morning. Hattie smiled a bit to herself, enjoying all the noise her cousin made with his Smelting stick as he made down the hallway. Then he cheered.
"There's another set! Ms. H. Potter, the smallest bedroom, 4 Privet Dri—"
With a strangled cry, Uncle Vernon leapt from his seat and ran down the hall. Hattie and Harry were quick to follow, their small legs dashing around their uncle as Dudley's eyes went wide. Uncle Vernon struggled to get the letters from Dudley, made harder due to Harry's arms wrapped around his neck. Hattie skidded around the chaos and helped tug her cousin out from under his father. After a confused minute of fighting, which everyone got hit at some point with the Smelting stick, Uncle Vernon stood up with their new letters clutched in his hand.
"I got them from the mail slot!" Unwavering in his righteous anger, Dudley took another whack at his father's leg with his stick. His father ignored him and directed his attention to Hattie and Harry first.
"Go to your cupboard. I mean bedroom. Go to your bedroom."
He then turned to his son. "Dudley. Just go. Just go."
"But dad!"
"Go."
Hattie and Harry paced around their new bedroom.
"Someone knew we moved out of the cupboard."
"Child services," Hattie questioned. "Still with Dudley on that one. If someone is watching, it's creepy. But why not have authorities come by? Why send letters announcing their knowledge about us and how they treat us? It's weird."
"They seem to know we didn't get the first letter. Think they'll try again?"
"Probably. They're being creepers about it and watching, sending letters and being more creepers about it."
Harry noticed something in the pile of broken things and grinned. Hattie looked as well. An alarm clock sat there with cracks in its plastic. "Think that alarm clock still works?"
Hattie thought it over for a bit. "I think Uncle Vernon's works fine."
He shrugged, getting up to pick it up. Together, Hattie and he checked it over and popped a couple buttons back in place before setting it for early the next day. They dressed quickly and quietly after it went off, stealing their way down the stairs. Plans of getting down the street for the post danced temptingly in Hattie's head. And then there was a scream when Harry reached the doormat.
Realizing what had happened, Hattie stepped forward too, earning a second scream. In the dark, Uncle Vernon couldn't possibly pin down which one exactly stepped on him. It made her feel a little bit braver and scared. The lights around the house turned on, Aunt Petunia and Dudley coming down the stairs to see the fuss. Rising up from the lumpy sleeping bag, Uncle Vernon yelled at them for a half an hour before telling them to go make tea and start breakfast. Dudley plodded along behind them.
"Any idea how to get those letters?" He asked when Hattie turned to look curiously at him. She shook her head, huffing. Harry sighed and looked back to the front door where Uncle Vernon was now sitting on a chair near the mail slot. "I think it might have something to do with your birthday."
"Why do you say that Dudley," Hattie asked as she started up the stove.
"I saw the number 31 on it. Pretty sure the word next to it was July, but I didn't manage to get a good look." Hattie frowned. Dudley shrugged at her, peeking back to the door his father still guarded, put out by not getting a hold of these mysterious letters as well. He turned back, pointed at the tea he wanted, and Hattie tugged out a bag. "You better make bacon today Harry. I'm up early because of you." Dudley poked at Harry's side before going and sitting at the table.
Harry shuffled back over to the doorway. Hattie peered over to see Uncle Vernon flipping through the delivered mail. One, two, three, four, five, and six thick envelopes with emerald writing. She heard a kitchen chair scrap across the floor and caught Dudley scowling over at his father. He tore the letters into pieces.
That day, Uncle Vernon did not go to work. Hattie was in shock. She peered around the corner of the hallway, watching as he cheerfully nailed boards overtop the mail slot. Beside her, Harry and Dudley wore a pair of matched scowls. She covered her mouth so that neither her brother nor cousin would realize the current similarity. The second battle for letters happened the following morning on a Friday. Around twenty or so had been shoved through underneath the door and on the sides, a few more pushed in the window in the small bathroom. The three of them scrambled around Uncle Vernon, grabbing at and ripping open the letters, in hope of reading one of them.
"There is a 31 on them," Harry shouted out in gleeful confirmation.
Uncle Vernon roared. Hattie cried out for her cousin. The two of them forwent any other letters and leapt onto Uncle Vernon. Dudley slipped over his dad's head and tumbled into Harry. Uncle Vernon snatched the letter out of Harry's hand before bellowing for all three of them to get out of the house.
On Saturday, even more letters appeared in the most unusual of places. Seeing as they could not get through the newly boarded cracks of the door anymore, they made their way inside by the eggs and milk deliveries. Aunt Petunia shook her head at her husband, worry lining her face as Uncle Vernon called the post office in order to find someone to properly yell his grievances at. She shredded the letters by kitchen appliances.
"Who on earth wants to talk to you two this badly," Dudley asked them in amazement. "Tomorrow I am going to read one of them. I bet there will be hundreds sent by then. Dad can't possibly stop them all."
It was a rather good idea, but Hattie grumbled. "There's no post on Sundays."
Dudley's face drooped at the reminder. "Oh yeah. Monday for sure then."
The following morning, Uncle Vernon sat at the table looking tired but cheerful as he reminded them what day it was. Just as he did so, Hattie went wide eyed as something shot down from the kitchen chimney and hit Uncle Vernon in the back of the head. A letter. She looked to Harry and Dudley who wore similar expressions as her. As one, they burst out of their chairs as more letters came from the chimney. Letters pelted across the kitchen like bullets, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon ducking.
But for Hattie and her brother and cousin, it was battle on, each jumping into the air to snatch at the letters. Uncle Vernon shot up and Hattie pushed Harry, but he managed to grab her instead.
"Out! Out!"
Caught in his other arm, Harry fought to get out of their uncle's hold. Dudley continued hopping up and down in hopes of snagging one of the fast flying letters. Thrown out, Hattie and Harry hurried to rush back into the kitchen, but Uncle Vernon's wide girth pushed them back as he heaved his son out there with him. Aunt Petunia hurried out and away from the paper projectiles before Uncle Vernon slammed the door shut.
Hattie stared at it and then looked to Harry. Dudley pounded his fists onto the closed door. They could all hear the letters still hitting walls.
"That does it. I want you all back her in five minutes ready to leave," Uncle Vernon announced. "We're going away. Just pack some clothes. No arguments."
Dudley's mouth closed from whatever he was going to shout, then stomped upstairs as loudly as he possibly could. Hattie and Harry quickly followed up. Ten minutes later, things had been thrown into the car and Uncle Vernon drove it onto the motorway. Dudley was sniffling in the backseat, farthest away from Uncle Vernon. His father had hit him over the head when he had wasted time in trying to get his television, video game, and computer into his sports bag. Not pleased with his father, Hattie and Harry could hear Dudley dragging his feet and making rude comments as he packed those. Harry had rolled his eyes, but she had thrown extra layers of clothing on herself and threw more of the Dudley second hand clothes they had into their bag. As well as a book from the shelf.
They drove. And they drove. The silence among them not dared to be broken. Dudley's sniffles had ceased, but his glare at the driver's seat let his displeasure known. Every now and then, Uncle Vernon would take sharp turns and mutter about shaking them off. They did not stop to eat or drink all day. Dudley had taken up to howling on how this had been the worst day of his life. Uncle Vernon drove to what looked to be their final destination, a hotel on the edge of a big city.
"And just think," Hattie spoke up suddenly. Dudley's howls broke for a precious minute. "Whoever these creepy people are, knew when Harry and I changed to your bedroom. Chances are they will know we changed places of residence."
It took Dudley a moment, and then his eyes went wide in realization. Aunt Petunia had winced, as though she had realized this fact earlier, cautiously looking to her husband and then son. She shook her head at Dudley.
After a night at the hotel, they all trudged down to have a poor looking breakfast of soggy cornflakes. In the midst of their meal, the owner of the hotel came to their table. "Excuse me? Are any of you mister or miss H. Potter? It's only that I've got a couple hundred of these at the front desk."
A pair of letters was held up, each to Hattie and Harry, addressed with the town and hotel and room number they had slept in. Three hands flew out to grab the letters, but Uncle Vernon slapped their hands and snatched them first. The owner stared on in shock.
"I'll take them," Uncle Vernon said standing up quickly.
"You were right," Dudley whispered in awe to Hattie.
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