Strings
In the corner of the Dursley's living room is a puppet.
The letters flopped onto the carpet of number four Privet Drive. The small figure waiting on the stairs stood and shuffled through the envelopes. The boy paused in the predawn light, in his hands was a letter. That wasn't unusual in his daily habit of searching the mail, what was unusual was three things; There was no stamp; The paper was heavy; and perhaps most importantly, it was addressed to him.
The boy retreated to read the letter in the living room where the light was brighter. He smiled softly when he was done. That explained a lot. He was a wizard! The boy awkwardly wrote a reply with a pen on the back of the letter.
Professor McGonigal,
I must decline your invitation because I am physically unable to attending.
Thank you.
He grinned, it was sloppy handwriting but it got the point across. He climbed out the Kitchen window and gave the owl his reply. It eyed him but flew off non-the-less. He wondered what it would've been like if he'd gone. The boy went back inside and returned to his usual post in the living room, but not after he concealed the envelope behind a picture of his cousin.
It never hurts to have a souvenir.
Three blocks away the owl flew over a plaque in a playground.
I memory of Harry Potter
1980-1986
Below it was a short paragraph waring kids about running into the road or else they might be hit by a car and die like Harry.
The possessed marionette realized he left the window open and floated over to close it while his souvenir lay behind the picture frame, proclaiming it was to:
Harry Potter
Third Shelf From the Top of the Bookshelf in the Corner of the Living room.
#4 Privet Drive
Little Whinding
Surrey.