Act I - a great deal of courage

Part II - don't ask questions

Privet Drive had hardly changed at all in the last ten years. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number 4 on the Dursleys' front door. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of a girl with golden curls playing at the beach, but Daisy Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a longed neck, bony girl riding her first bicycle, on a carousel at the fair, playing dress up with her mother's clothes, being hugged and kissed by her parents.

The room held no sign at all that another girl lived in the house, too. Yet little Nia Potter was still there, asleep at the moment. Her Aunt Petunia's shrill voice made the first noise of the day: "Up! Get up! Now!"

Nia woke with a start.

Her aunt rapped on the door again. "Up!" she screeched.

Nia heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. She rolled onto her back and tried to remember the dream she had been having. It had been a good one. There had been a flying motorcycle in it; that was Nia's favorite dream.

Her aunt was back outside the door. "Get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Daisy's birthday."

Nia groaned. Daisy's birthday... how could he have forgotten? Nia got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. She found a pair under her bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on. Nia was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where she slept.

When she was dressed she went down the hall into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all Daisy's birthday presents. There were bags with all those stupid labels she was so fond of: Coco Chanel, Dolce & Gabbana, Victoria Secret, etc. That was all she ever got, new clothes, perfumes, jewelry, make up and shoes. Nia had been quite pleased when Daisy started wearing girly shoes; now, when angry, she couldn't run fast enough to punish Nia.

Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Nia had always been small for her age. Which, in the end, turned out to be a lucky thing because Daisy's tight, revealing clothes seemed ordinary sized when Nia wore them. Daisy was always giving Nia her old clothes because she had to keep up with whatever that was trending at the time.

Nia had a heart shaped face decorated with round green eyes. She kept her dark hair short so Daisy couldn't pull it so much. The only thing she liked about her own appearance was a very thin scar on her forehead that was shaped like a bolt of lightning. She had had it as long as she could remember, and the first question she could ever remember asking her Aunt Petunia was how she had gotten it.

Soon she learned her lesson: "Don't ask questions." That was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys.

Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Nia was turning over the bacon. "Comb your hair!" he barked, by way of a morning greeting. He should've known better: her hair simply grew that way, all over the place.

Daisy arrived in the kitchen with her mother. She looked a lot like Aunt Petunia. They were both blonde with pale eyes, horse-like front teeth and nearly twice the usual amount of neck. The only thing she had inherited from her father was perhaps that vein in her neck that threatened to explode whenever she got pissed off.

She soon started opening the pyramid of presents. The telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Nia and Uncle Vernon watched Daisy wrestle with the wrappings. Aunt Petunia came back from the telephone looking both angry and worried.

"Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take her," and she jerked her head in Nia's direction.

Daisy's mouth fell open in horror. Every year, her parents took her out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. Every year, Nia was left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made Nia look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned. Nia even knew their names by heart now… Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, Tufty…

"Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Nia as though she'd planned this.

"We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested.

"Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the girl."

The Dursleys often spoke about Nia like this, as though she wasn't there or as though she was too stupid to understand them.

"You could just leave me here," Nia put in hopefully.

Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon. "And come back and find the house in ruins? I don't think so. I suppose we could take her to the zoo… and leave her in the car…"

"That car's new, she's not sitting in it alone…"

Daisy started to complain really loud and really fast. That was how she was taught to deal with life's problems: by yelling.

"Mummy won't let her spoil your special day!" Aunt Petunia said.

"I… don't… want… her… to… come!" Daisy yelled. "She always messes everything up!"

But Nia went indeed along. Her aunt and uncle hadn't been able to think of anything else to do with her. However, before they'd left, Uncle Vernon had warned her: "Any funny business, anything at all - and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas." Nia swore she wouldn't do anything. Uncle Vernon didn't believe her. No one ever did.

The problem was, strange things often happened around Nia and it was just no good telling the Dursleys she didn't make them happen. Once, Aunt Petunia had taken a pair of kitchen scissors and cut her hair so short she was almost bald except for her bangs, which she left to hide that horrible scar. Next morning, however, Nia had gotten up to find her hair exactly as it had been before she'd cut it. Another time, Aunt Petunia tried to force her into a revolting old sweater Daisy had rejected. The harder she tried to pull it over Nia's head, the smaller it seemed to become

But today, nothing was going to go wrong, Nia promised herself.

While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. He liked to complain about things: people at work, Nia, the council, Nia, the bank, and Nia were just a few of his favorite subjects. This morning, it was motorcycles.

It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with families. The Dursleys bought Daisy a large chocolate ice cream and a cheap lemon ice pop for Nia who was having her best day ever. She was careful to walk a little way apart from the Dursleys so that Daisy, who was starting to get bored with the animals by lunchtime, wouldn't fall back on her favorite hobby of hitting Nia.

Nia felt, afterward, that she should have known it was all too good to last.

They went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in there. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. Daisy wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and quickly found the largest snake in the place. But at the moment it didn't look in the mood to entertain. In fact, it was fast asleep.

Daisy stood with her nose pressed against the glass. "Make it move," she whined at her father.

Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge.

"Do it again," Daisy ordered.

Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on.

Daisy moaned and shuffled away.

Nia moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. "Don't mind her," she said softly. "She doesn't understand what it's like, lying there day after day, having people press their ugly faces in on you. It must be worse than having a cupboard as a bedroom, where the only visitor's Aunt Petunia hammering on the door to wake me up. At least I get to visit the rest of the house if…"

The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with Nia's. "I get this all the time," it said although snakes couldn't talk.

Nia gawked. Then she looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. She looked back at the snake wondering if she was imagining all this. The snake waited patiently for her to speak. Nia cleared her throat and said: "It must be really annoying."

The snake nodded vigorously.

"You're from Burma, aren't you?" Nia asked. "Was it nice there, do you miss your family?"

The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. Nia peered at it: Bred in the zoo.

"Oh, I see... so you've never met your family?"

As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind Nia made both of them jump. "YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!" Daisy came waddling toward them as fast as she could and pushed Nia away.

And then, one second, Daisy was leaning right up close to the glass, the next, she fell through it as if the glass had vanished. Daisy yelled like a crazy person when she realized there was nothing left separating her and the snake. But the great snake didn't pay any attention to her, uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits.

As the snake slid swiftly past Nia, she said in a low, hissing voice said,"Thanksss."

Aunt Petunia appeared wailing desperately. "But the glass," she kept saying, "where did the glass go?"

Uncle Vernon on the other hand looked at Nia once and decided she was to blame. As soon as they were home, he managed to say, "Go - cupboard - stay - no meals," before he collapsed into a chair, and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy.

Nia lay in her dark cupboard much later, wishing she had a watch. She didn't know what time it was and she couldn't be sure the Dursleys were asleep yet. Until they were, she couldn't risk sneaking to the kitchen for some food. This was her longest-ever punishment. By the time she was allowed out of her cupboard again, the summer holidays had started and Daisy had already filled her wardrobe with new clothes.

One day in July, they were having breakfast when they heard the click of the mail slot and flop of letters on the doormat. From behind his paper, Uncle Vernon told Nia to get the mail. Three things lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister, a bill, and a letter for Nia.

Her heart raced. No one, ever, in her whole life, had written to her. Who would? She had no friends, no other relatives and she didn't even belong to the library. Yet here it was, a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake:

Miss E. Potter

The Cupboard under the Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink. There was no stamp. Turning the envelope over, she saw a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H.

"What's taking so long?" shouted Uncle Vernon from the kitchen.

Nia went back to the kitchen, still staring at her letter. She handed Uncle Vernon the bill and the postcard, sat down, and slowly began to open the yellow envelope. She was on the point of unfolding her letter when it was jerked sharply out of her hand by Uncle Vernon.

"That's mine!" she said, trying to snatch it back.

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

Aunt Petunia took it curiously and read the first line. For a moment it looked as though she might faint. "Vernon! Oh my goodness, Vernon!"

They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten that Nia and Daisy were still in the room. Daisy wasn't used to being ignored. "I want to read that letter," she said loudly.

"It's mine," Nia said again.

Uncle Vernon croaked that they both should leave. He stuffed the letter back inside its envelope. Since the girls didn't move, he took them both by the scruffs of their necks and threw them into the hall, slamming the kitchen door behind them.

Nia and Daisy exchanged a look.

"Vernon," Aunt Petunia was saying behind the closed door, "look at the address - how could they possibly know where she sleeps? You don't think they're watching the house?"

"Watching... spying... might be following us," muttered Uncle Vernon wildly. "No. No, we'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer… Yes, that's best… we won't do anything…"

"But–"

"I'm not having one in the house, Petunia! Didn't we swear when we took her in we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense?"

That evening, Uncle Vernon visited Nia in her cupboard. He took a few deep breaths and then forced his face into a smile, which looked quite painful. "Er - yes, about this cupboard. Your aunt and I have been thinking… you're really getting a bit big for it… we think it might be nice if you moved into Daisy's second bedroom. Take your stuff upstairs, now, will you."

It only took Nia one trip upstairs to move everything she owned from the cupboard to the room where Daisy kept everything she couldn't fit in her actual bedroom. She sat down on the bed and stared around her. Nearly everything in here was broken. Except for the books that looked as though they'd never been touched.

From downstairs came the sound of Daisy bawling at her mother, "I don't want her in there… I need that room… make her get out…"

Nia sighed and stretched out on the bed.

Next morning at breakfast, another letter arrived, this time addressed to the bedroom where she was staying. Uncle Vernon quickly got rid of it. Nia walked round and round her new room. Someone knew she had moved out of her cupboard and they seemed to know she hadn't received her first letter. Surely that meant they'd try again?

The answer was yes.

On Friday, no less than twelve letters arrived for Nia. Uncle Vernon had stayed at home and he burned all the letters at the fireplace.

On Saturday, exactly twenty-four letters found their way into the house. Uncle Vernon even made furious telephone calls to the post office and the dairy trying to find someone to complain to.

"Who on earth wants to talk to you this badly?" Daisy asked Nia in amazement.

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, "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 ducked, but Nia leapt into the air trying to catch one…

Uncle Vernon seized her hands stopping her. "That does it," he shouted. "We're going away. Away from here!" He looked so crazy that no one dared argue.