Chapter 4

Sapphire's point of view

"Please let me help Hagrid, PLEASE" I begged Albus, and as I very rarely lowered myself to b egging for anything he knew I was serious.

"Sighing in defeat Albus said "Ask Hagrid if he even wants your help."

I spun on Hagrid who had a look of amusement in his eyes. "Please, Hagrid can I come it is my brother's letter you're delivering after all.

"Yes, Sapphire if you want to come I'd be glad for your company." Hagrid replied a smile on his face.

"Well now that that is taking care of we need to set a few rules. And I need to give you a little more information even though I'm pretty sure Sapphire already knows everything I have to say. I did I swear I'd heard this lecture more times than.. then there was wizards in the world and few people honestly know that number.

"You are not to use magic. You are not to torture your cousin, uncle or aunt Sapphire. You are to not be seen. Attempt to let him receive the letter and read it without magic but if all else fails you may use magic. ALL ELSE, Sapphire" I may have seemed just a tad bit eager at the getting to use magic part. "Between how much of a prankster you are and how determined Hagrid is you should be able to accomplish that. But trust me it won't be easy his Aunt and Uncle will fight you every step of the way. And if it comes to the point one of you must be seen it will not be you Sapphire am I clear."

I nodded my head as I had been at all the appropriate places. Of course I was also crossing my fingers but that was just in case. I mean idiot Dudley had it coming. And if an opportunity presented itself to gain revenge for Harry who was I to ignore it?

"And of course I have complete and utter faith in you," Albus said.

"Don't worry sir we won't let you down." Hagrid assured Albus.

As we walked out me and Hagrid were already formulating are plan of attack. Just in case it was needed of course

Harry's point of view

"I'm dyeing some of Dudley's old things gray for you. It'll look just like everyone else's when I've finished." Aunt Pentunia said as I walked in for breakfast. I seriously doubted this, but thought it best not to argue. I sat down at the table and tried not to think about how I was going to look on the first day at Stonewall High — like I was wearing bits of old elephant skin, probably. Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses because of the smell from Harry'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 Dudley get it."

"Poke him with your Smelting stick, Dudley." I dodged the Smelting stick and went to get the mail. Three 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 me.

I picked it up and stared at it, my heart twanging like a giant elastic band. No one, ever, sent me mail. Who would? The only letters I received was from Fira and she would never send me a letter through the post. I had no friends other than Fira, no other relatives —I didn't belong to the library, so I'd never even got rude notes asking for books back. Yet here it was, a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake:

Mr. H. 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, my hand trembling, I 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, boy!" shouted Uncle Vernon from the kitchen. "What are you doing, checking for letter bombs?" He chuckled at his own joke.

I went back to the kitchen, still staring at my letter. I handed Uncle Vernon the bill and the postcard, sat down, and slowly began to open the yellow envelope. 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's got something!"

I was on the point of unfolding his letter, which was written on the same heavy parchment as the envelope, when it was jerked sharply out of his hand by Uncle Vernon.

"That's mine!" I 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.

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 Dudley and I 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.

"I want to read it," I said furiously, "as it's mine."

"Get out, both of you," croaked Uncle Vernon, stuffing the letter back inside its envelope. Harry didn't move.

"I WANT MY LETTER!" I shouted.

"Let Me see it!" demanded Dudley.

"OUT!" roared Uncle Vernon, and he took both Dudley and me by the scruffs of their necks and threw them into the hall, slamming the kitchen door behind them. Dudley and me promptly had a furious but silent fight over who would listen at the keyhole; Dudley won, so I, with my glasses dangling from one ear, lay flat on my stomach to listen at the crack between door and floor.

Sapphire's point of view

"Vernon," Aunt Petunia was saying in a quivering voice, "look at the address — how could they possibly know where he sleeps? You don't think they're watching the house?"

"Watching — spying — might be following us," muttered Uncle Vernon wildly. Ya, I'm watching and spying Dursleys But trust me I don't want to follow you. I wanted to scream but as I had been told to do I held my tongue and my magic even though I wanted to blast them to Timbuctoo for everything they had ever done to Harry.

As I listened to Petunia and Vernon converse I realized it wasn't even worth it, and slowly snuck out the kitchen window to inform Hagrid that it hadn't worked. We had both agreed to try the normal way a few more times but then then the fun would begin.

Is it wrong that I'm confused as to why it says that there have been a total of 108 Views and 60 Visitors I mean what's the difference between the two? Thanks for ready! Hope you have a fabulous day!