The escape of the Brazilian boa constrictor earned Harry and Kalilina their longest-ever punishment. By the time they were allowed out of their cupboard again, the summer holidays had started.

Harry and Kalilina were glad school was over, but there was no escaping Dudley's gang, who visited the house every single day. The rest of them were all quite happy to join in Dudley's favorite sport: Harry and Kalilina Hunting.

This is why Harry and Kalilina spent as much time as possible out of the house, wandering around andmaking fun of Dudley. When September came they would be going off to secondary school , they wouldn't be going with Dudley. Dudley had been accepted at the private school, Smeltings. Harry and Kalilina, on the other hand, were going to Stonewall High, the local public school. Dudley thought this was very funny.

"They stuff people's heads down the toilet the first day at Stonewall," he told them. "Want to come upstairs and practice?"

"No, thanks," said Kalilina. "Besides, with your head down it - it might be sick." Then her and Harry ran before Dudley's slow mind could process what had been said.

One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving Harry and Kalilina at 's, wasn't bad as usual. She let Harry and Kalilina watch television and gave them a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she'd had it for several years.

That evening, Dudley paraded around the living room for the family in his brand new uniform. Smeltings boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers, and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobby sticks, used for hitting each other while the teachers weren't looking. This was supposed to be good training for later in life.

As he looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Vernon said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Harry didn't trust himself to speak. He thought two of his ribs might already have cracked from not trying to laugh. Kalilina had tried, but it failed and she fell to the ground laughing. But the Dursleys ignored her.

There was a horrible smell in the kitchen the next morning when Harry and Kalilina went in for breakfast. It seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. They went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in gray water.

"Um, are we having dirty water for breakfast?" questioned Kalilina, sarcastically.

"What's this?" asked Harry to Aunt Petunia. Her lips tightened as they always did if they dared to ask a question.

"Your new uniforms," she said.

Kalilina raised an eyebrow and looked in the bowl, as did Harry.

"Oh," said Harry. "I didn't realize it had to be so wet."

"Or utterly repulsive." added Kalilina.

"Don't be stupid," snapped Aunt Petunia. "I'm dyeing some of mine and Dudley's old things gray for you. It'll look just like everyone else's when I've finished."

Harry seemed to take this, but Kalilina, however, did not.

"Hold on. Stop. Do not go foward. Do not collect 200 dollars," she said. "I have to wear your clothes? But aren't they from the 18th century? I mean, I'll be the only bloody girl there wearing Shakesperian clothes - hold on. Do I have to wear a skirt?! Oh no no no no no no no. I will not wear a skirt, you'd have to kill me before I wore a skirt."

"Go sit down," hissed Aunt Petunia. Harry grabbed Kalilina's wrist and dragged her over to the table, where they sat down next to each other.

Dudley and Uncle Vernon both came in, both wrinkled their noses because of the smell from Harry and Kalilina's new uniform. Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper as usual and Dudley banged his Smelting stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table.

They heard the click of the mail slot and flop of letters on the doormat.

"Get the mail, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon from behind his paper.

"Make Harry get it."

"Get the mail, Harry."

"Make Kalilina get it."

"Go get the mail, Kalilina."

"Make Dudley get it."

"Poke her with your stick, Dudley."

Kalilina dodged the Smelting stick and went to get the mail. 4 things lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister, Marge, who was vacationing on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and - a letter for her and Harry.

Kalilina picked it up and stared at hers, her heart beating uncontrollably. No one, ever, in her whole life, had written to her. Who would? She had no one besides Harry and it would be pointless for him to send a letter to her when he lived with her.

Ms.

The Cupboard under the stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

Whoa. Whoa. Hold on. How do they know where she sleeps?! How do they even know her name? Harry's letter looked the same. The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the adress was written in emerald-green ink. There was no stamp.

Turning the envelope over, her hand trembling, Kalilina saw a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H.

"Hurry up, girl!" shouted Uncle Vernon from the kitchen. "What are doing, checking the letter for bombs?" He chuckled at his own joke.

"Hardy har har," laughed Kalilina sarcastically.

Kalilina went back into the kitchen, gazing down at her letter. She handed Uncle Vernon the bill and the postcard and gave Harry his letter. Harry's eyes went wide in surprise.

'I have a letter?' thought Harry. Kalilina nodded.

'Apparently, so do I. Look at the seal. It looks weird.' thought Kalilina. She noticed his confused expression as he looked down at the seal and looked at her. She shrugged and began opening her letter slowly.

Uncle Vernon ripped open the bill, snorted in disgust, and flipped over the postcard.

"Marge's ill," he informed Aunt Petunia. "Ate a funny whelk..."

"Dad!" said Dudley suddenly. "Dad, Harry and Kalilina's got something!"

Kalilina was on the point of unfolding her letter, which was written on the same heavy parchment as the envelope, when it was jerked sharply out of her hand by Uncle Vernon. He had done the same to Harry.

"That's mine!" shouted both Kalilina and Harry at the same time, trying to grab back their letters.

"Who'd be writing to you two?" sneered Uncle Vernon, shaking Harry's letter open with one hand and glancing it. His face went from red to green faster than a set of traffic lights. And it didn't stop there. Within second it was the grayish white of old porridge.

"P-Petunia!" he gasped.

Dudley tried to grab the letter to read it, but Uncle Vernon held it high out of his reach. Aunt Petunia took it curiously and read the first line. For a moment it looked as though she might faint. She clutched her throat and made a choking noise.

"Vernon! Oh my goodness - Vernon!"

They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten that Harry, Kalilina and Dudley were still in the room. Dudley wasn't used to being ignored. He gave his father a sharp tap on the head with his Smelting stick.

"I want to read that letter," he said loudly.

"You want to read it?! It's our letters, you pathetic excuse for a person!" shouted Kalilina.

"Get out, all 3 of you," croaked Uncle Vernon, stuffing the letter back inside its envelope.

Harry and Kalilina didn't move.

"WE WANT OUR LETTER!" shouted Harry. Kalilina stared wide eyed at Harry, he never really yelled.

"Let me see it!" demanded Dudley. Kalilina took his Smelting stick and started beating him with it.

"OUT!" roared Uncle Vernon. Harry had to literally throw Kalilina over his shoulder and carry her out. Once inside their cupboard, Kalilina raged.

"I want my letter, god dammit! IT WAS MINE!" She grumbled. Harry sighed and held out his arm. Kalilina jerked it towards her and bit down. Harry closed his eyes tightly and tried not to yell. Whenever Kalilina was angry, she bit down on Harry's arm. Only Harry's. She didn't trust anyone else. Once she calmed down, she snuggled into Harry's chest. Harry wrapped his arms around her.

"Calm, now?" He asked. She shrugged.

"A little," she responded.

"I still want my letter," grumbled Harry. Kalilina nodded.

That evening when he got back from, Uncle Vernon did something he'd never done before; he visited Harry and Kalilina in their cupboard.

"Where's our letters?" said Kalilina, the moment Uncle Vernon had squeezed through the door. "Who's writing to us?"

"No one. It was adressed to you two by mistake," said Uncle Vernon shortly. "I have burned it."

"It was not a mistake," said Harry angrily, "it had our cupboard on it."

"SILENCE!" yelled Uncle Vernon, and a couple of spiders fell from the ceiling. He took a few deep breaths and then forced his face into a smile, which looked quite painful.

"Er - yes - Harry - Kalilina - about this cupboard. Me and your aunt have been thinking...you both are getting really big for it...we think it might be nice if you two moved into Dudley's second bedrooom."

"Why?" asked Harry.

"Don't asking questions!" snapped Uncle Vernon. "Take your stuff upstairs, now."

The Dursleys' house had four bedrooms: one for Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, one for visitors (usually Uncle Vernon's sister, Marge), one where Dudley slept, and one where Dudley kept all the toys and things that wouldn't fit into his first bedroom. It only took Harry and Kalilina one trip upstairs to move everything they owned from the cupboard to this room. They both sat down on their beds and stared around them.

From downstairs came the sound of Dudley bawling at his mother, "I don't want them in there...I need that room...make them get out..."

"TOO BAD SO SAD, DUDLEY. OUR ROOM NOW." shouted Kalilina and Dudley's sobs grew louder. Harry laughed at this. Both of them laid on their beds and sighed. Yesterday they'd given anything to be up here. Today they'd rather be back in their cupboard with their letters then up here.

Next morning at breakfast, everyone was rather quiet. Dudley was in shock. He still didn't have his room back. Harry and Kalilina were thinking about this time yesterday and bitterly wished they'd open their letter in the hall. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia kept looking at each other darkly.

When the mail arrived, Uncle Vernon, who seemed to be trying to be nice to Harry and Kalilina, made Dudley go and get it. They heard him banging things with his Smelting stick all the way down the hall. Then he shouted, "There's two more! 'Ms.K. Black and Mr. H. Potter, The Smallest Bedroom, 4 Privet Drive-"

With a strangled cry, Uncle Vernon leapt from his seat and ran down the hall, Harry and Kalilina right behind him. Uncle Vernon had to wrestle Dudley to the ground to get the letters from him, which was made difficult by the fact Kalilina had grabbed Uncle Vernon around the neck from behind. Harry tried pulling Kalilina off. After a minute of confused fighting, in which everyone got hit a lot by the Smelting stick, Uncle Vernon straightened up, gasping for breath, with Harry and Kalilina's letters clutched in his hand.

"Go to your cupboard - I mean, your bedroom," he wheezed at Harry and Kalilina. "Dudley - go - just go."

"MINE! MINE MINE MINE! YOU DICKHEAD! GIMME MY LETTER! NOW! I WANT IT! GAHHHHH!" shouted Kalilina the whole way Harry dragged her to their bedroom.

Kalilina walked round and round their new room. Someone knew they had moved out of their cupboard and they seemed to know they hadn't recieved their first letter. Surely that meant they'd try again? And this time she'd make sure they didn't fail. She had a plan.

The alarm clock rang at six o' clock the next morning. Kalilina quickly turned it off quickly and dressed silently. She would wake Harry, but she wanted to this by her self. She knew that he would probably prevent her from going, as usual. But she definitely wasn't going to wake the Dursleys. She went downstairs silently as possible.

She was going to wait for the postman on the corner and get letters from number 4 first. Her heart hammered as she crept across the dark hall toward the front door -

"AAAAARRRGH!"

Kalilina screeched and leapt into the air; she'd trodden on something big and squashy on the doormat - something alive!

Lights clicked on upstairs and to her horror Kalilina realized that the big squashy something had been Harry's uncle's face. He shouted at Kalilina for a half an hour and then told her to make a cup of tea. Kalilina shuffled miserably off into the kitchen and by the time she got back, the mail had arrived, right into Uncle Vernon's lap. Harry had come down and Kalilina told him what had happened while he was asleep. Kalilina could see six letter adressed in green ink.

"I want -" she began, but Uncle Vernon was tearing the letters into pieces before their eyes. Kalilina lunged at him but Harry grabbed her before she could claw Uncle Vernon's eyes out.

"I - hate - you!" growled Kalilina as she struggled from Harry's grasp.

Uncle Vernon didn't go to work that day. He stayed at home and nailed up the mail slot.

"See," he explained to Aunt Petunia through a mouthful of nails, "if they can't deliver them they'll give up."

"I'm not sure that'll work, Vernon."

"Oh, these people's minds work in strange ways, Petunia, they're not like you and me," said Uncle Vernon, trying to knock in a nail with the piece of fruitcake Aunt Petunia had just brought him.

On Friday, no less than twelve letters each arrived for Harry and Kalilina. Uncle Vernon stayed home again. After burning all the letters, he got out a hammer and nails and boarded up the cracks around the front and back doors so no one could go out. He hummed "Tiptoe Through the Tulips" as he worked, and jumped at small noises - which Kalilina made, purposely.

On Saturday, things began to get out of hand. Twenty-four letters for Harry and Kalilina each, had found their way into the house. While Uncle Vernon made furious telephone calls to the post office and the dairy trying to find someone to complain to, Aunt Petunia shredded the letters in her food processor.

"Who on earth wants to talk to you two this badly?" Dudley asked Harry and Kalilina in amazement. Kalilina replied with, "Bitches love us."
On Sunday morning, Uncle Vernon sat down at the breakfast table looking tired and rather ill, but happy.

"No post on Sundays," he reminded them cheerfully as he spread marmalade on his newspapers, "no damn letters today-"
Something came whizzing down the kitchen chimney as he spoke and caught him sharply on the back of the head. Next moment, thirty or forty letters came pelting out of the fireplace like bullets. The Dursleys screamed and ducked but Kalilina and Harry jumped up trying to catch one.

"Hallelujah, it's raining letters!" exclaimed Kalilina.

"Stop singing and grab one!" shouted Harry.

"Out! OUT!"

Uncle Vernon seized Kalilina around the waist and threw her into the hall. He did the same with Harry. When Aunt Petunia and Dudley had run out with their arms over their faces, Uncle Vernon slammed the door shut. They could still hear letters streaming into the room, bouncing off the walls and floors.

"That does it," said Uncle Vernon, trying to speak calmly but pulling great tufts out of his mustache at the same time. "I want you all back here in five minutes ready to leave. We're going away. Just pack some clothes. No arguments!"

No one dared argue. Ten minutes later they had wrenched their way through the boarded-up doors and were in the car, speeding toward the highway. Dudley was sniffling in the backseat; his father had hit him round the head for holding them up while he tried to pack his television, VCR, and computer in his sports bag. Kalilina had gotten smacked in the head for laughing at Dudley getting smacked in the head and "not getting her arse to the car". But she wasn't sniffling like a little bitch.

They drove. And they drove. Even Aunt Petunia didn't dare ask where they were going. Every now and then Uncle Vernon would take a sharp turn and drive in the opposite direction for a while.

"Shake 'em off...shake 'em off," he would mutter whenever he did this.

"Someone's mental," sang Kalilina. Harry snickered behind his hand.

They didn't stop or eat or drink all day. By nightfall Dudley was howling. He'd never had such a bad day in his life.

Uncle Vernon stopped at last outside a gloomy-looking hotel on the outskirts of a big city. Dudley, Harry and Kalilina shared a room with twin beds and damp, musty sheets. Dudley snored but Harry and Kalilina stayed awake, sitting on the windowsill, staring down at the lights of passing cars and wondering...

They ate stale cornflakes - to which Kalilina said "Just like home!" - and cold tinned tomatoes on toast for breakfast the next day. They had just finished when the owner of the hotel came over to their table.

"'Scuse me, but is two of you Mrs. K. Black and Mr. H. Potter? Only got about an 'undred of these at the front desk."

She held up a letter so they could ready the green ink adress:

Mrs. K. Black

Room 17

Railview Hotel

Cokeworth

Kalilina made a grab for the letter but Uncle Vernon knocked her hand out the way. The woman stared.

"I'll take them," said Uncle Vernon, standing up quickly and following her from the dining room.

"Wouldn't it just be best to go home, dear?" Aunt Petunia suggested, timidly, hours later, but Uncle Vernon seemed to ignore her. Exactly what he was looking for, no one knew.

"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Dudley asked Aunt Petunia dully late that afternoon.

"You just noticed?" said Kalilina, sarcastically.

Uncle Vernon had parked at the coast, locked them all inside the car, and disappeared.

It started to rain. Great drops beat on the roof of the car. Dudley sniveled.

"It's Monday," he told his mother. "The Great Humberto's on tonight. I want to stay somewhere with a television."

"Oh boo-hoo for you," scoffed Kalilina rolling her eyes.

Wait. Monday. That meant Harry's birthday was tomorrow. His birthdays were never exciting, he never got present like Dudley, but still. It wasn't everyday you turn eleven. Kalilina had turned 11 already in Feburary.

Uncle Vernon was back and he was smiling. He was also carrying a long, thin package and didn't answer Aunt Petunia when she asked what he'd bought.

"Found the perfect place!" he said. "Come on! Everyone out!"

It was very cold outside the car. Uncle Vernon was pointing at what looked like a large rock way out at sea. Perched on top of the rock was the most miserable little shack that looked as though it would fall in at any moment.

"Wait..what. We're sleeping in there?!" screeched Kalilina. "It looks like the bloody place would fall on us!"

"You're trying to kill us, aren't you?" said Harry. Of course, they were ignored.

"Storm forecast for tonight!" said Uncle Vernon gleefully, clapping his hands together. "And this gentleman's kindly agreed to lend us his boat!"

A toothless old man came ambling up to them, pointing with a rather wicked grin, at an old rowboat bobbing in the iron-gray water below them.

"I've already got us some rations," said Uncle Vernon, "so all aboard!"

Kalilina held onto Harry for dear life as they entered the boat. She hated boats. She hated riding in them, for sure. It was freezing in the boat. Icy sea spray and rain crept down their necks and a chilly wind whipped their faces. After what seemed like years they reached the rocks, where Uncle Vernon, slipping and sliding, led the way to the broken-down house.

The inside was horrible; it was horribly dirty, dingy and smelled to much like the sea.

Uncle Vernon's rations turned out to be a bag of chips and 5 bananas. He tried to start a fire but the empty chip bags just smoked and shriveled up.

"Could do with some of those letters now, eh?" he said, cheerfully. Kalilina glared at him, menacingly.

Uncle Vernon was in a very good mood. Obviously, he thought nobody stood a chance of reaching them here in a storm to deliver mail.

As night fell, the promised storm blew up around them. Spray from the high waves splattered the walls of the hut and a fierce wind rattled the filthy windows. Aunt Petunia found a few moldy blankets in the second room and made a bed for Dudley on the mouth-eaten sofa. She and Uncle Vernon went off to the lumpy bed next door, and Harry and Kalilina were left to find the softest bit of floor they could amd to curl up under the most thinnest, most ragged blanket.

The storm raged more and more ferociously as the night went on. Harry and Kalilina couldn't sleep. Harry shivered and turned over, trying to get comfortable, his stomach rumbling with hunger. Dudley's snores were drowned by the low rolls of thunder that started near midnight. Kalilina stayed as close as possible to Harry, whimpering slightly. She didn't like thunderstorms, they scared her.

"Scared, Black?" taunted Harry.

"You wish, Potter." sneered Kalilina. There was a loud rumble and Kalilina closed her eyes tightly, thrusting her head into Harry's chest. Harry chuckled sending vibrations through Kalilina's body.

The light dial of Dudley's watch, which was dangling over the edge of the sofa on his fat wrist, told Harry he'd be eleven in ten minutes' time. He lay and watched his birthday tick nearer, wondering if the Dursleys would remember at all, wondering where the letter writer was now.

Five minutes to go. Harry and Kalilina heard something creak outside. They hoped the roof wasn't going to fall in, although it might hurt the Dursleys in the process. Four minutes to go. Maybe the house in Privet Drive would be so full of letters when they got back that they'd be able to smuggle one to read it.

Three minutes to go. Goodness, what was that? And (two minutes to go) what was that funny crunching noise? Was the rock crumbling into the sea?

One minute to go and Harry'd be eleven. Thirty seconds...twenty..ten...nine - maybe Kalilina'd wake up Dudley, just to annoy him - three...two...one...

BOOM.

The whole shack shivered and Harry and Kalilina sat bolt upright, staring at the door. Someone was outside, knocking to come in.