A/N: Alright. Sorry for the delay. But it's finally up.
Thanks to:
PureAwesomeness13
Lily snape
bookwormqueen7
al
Phantom of Mystery
for reviewing my story. Also thanks to everyone who alerted/faved/anything else-ed my story!
Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, Fred, Remus, Tonks, and Sirius would still be alive.
"Letters From No One," Luna read. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I don't know, but I just realized that Harry's about eleven now and should be going into Hogwarts this year, right? Maybe the letters are from Hogwarts?" Remus asked.
"Yup," Harry said happily.
The escape of the Brazilian boa constrictor earned Harry his longest-ever punishment. By the time he was allowed out of his cupboard again, the summer holidays had started and Dudley had already broken his new video camera, crashed his remote control airplane, and, first time out on his racing bike, knocked down old Mrs. Figg as she crossed Privet Drive on her crutches.
"That poor woman," said Lily sympathetically.
Harry was glad school was over, but there was no escaping Dudley's gang, who visited the house every single day. Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon were all big and stupid, but as Dudley was the biggest and stupidest of the lot, he was the leader.
"That's just brilliant," Frank said.
"Yeah, that's worse than some of the Slytherins," said Sirius, which got a laugh.
The rest of them were all quite happy to join in Dudley's favorite sport: Harry Hunting.
They all growled at that.
This was why Harry spent as much time as possible out of the house, wandering around and thinking about the end of the holidays, where he could see a tiny ray of hope. When September came he would be going off to secondary school and,
"No, he is… er… was going to a wizarding school," Lily said happily. "And hopefully it will happen sooner then later."
"Yeah, I don't know how much more of the Dursleys I can take," James agreed.
for the first time in his life, he wouldn't be with Dudley. Dudley had been accepted at Uncle Vernon's old private school, Smeltings. Piers Polkiss was going there too. Harry, on the other hand, was going to Stonewall High, the local public school. Dudley thought this was very funny.
"I couldn't have cared less where I went, as long I was away from that prat," Harry said. "I thought that I might have a chance to make some friends, and I would finally be able to stop failing all my classes on purpose."
"Why on earth did you fail on purpose?" Lily asked, though she had her suspicions.
"I wasn't allowed to do better then Dudley, and he's not a very smart bloke," Harry said, confirming Lily's theory.
"That's just horrible," Hermione said.
"I doubt you would have survived there," Ron said. "No answering questions and your not even allowed to study. Not a Hermione-friendly place."
"They stuff people's heads down the toilet the first day at Stonewall," he told Harry. "Want to come upstairs and practice?"
"No, thanks," said Harry. "The poor toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it — it might be sick." Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he'd said.
"Good one mate," Sirius said as everyone laughed. "It looks like you've got your fathers insulting abilities."
"I don't know Padfoot," Remus said. "Lily can be quite cheeky when she wants to be."
"That true, I guess we'll have to wait to pass judgment on that," Sirius admitted.
One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving Harry at Mrs. Figg's.
"So I guess you didn't get out of that one after all, did you Harry?" Sirius teased.
Mrs. Figg wasn't as bad as usual. It turned out she'd broken her leg tripping over one of her cats, and she didn't seem quite as fond of them as before. She let Harry watch television and gave him a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she'd had it for several years.
"How could anyone not eat chocolate for several years?" Remus asked, horrified.
"Yes, Moony," said Padfoot sarcastically, "Harry's life is miserable. Let's worry about the chocolate, though."
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 knobbly sticks, used for hitting each other while the teachers weren't looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life.
"How the hell would that help?" Sirius said.
"That's horrible," agreed Alice.
As he looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Vernon said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn't believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins,
"That's such a great name."
he looked so handsome and grown-up. Harry didn't trust himself to speak. He thought two of his ribs might already have cracked from trying not to laugh.
"Ha, nice one, Harry," barked Sirius.
There was a horrible smell in the kitchen the next morning when Harry went in for breakfast. It seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. He went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in gray water.
"Why would rags be in a tub?" James asked. "Muggles are weird."
"What's this?" he asked Aunt Petunia. Her lips tightened as they always did if he dared to ask a question.
"Your new school uniform," she said.
"He's going to have to wear soaking rags to school," Neville said
"First of all, they won't be soaking when he wears them..." Hermione said shaking her head.
"I know that," Neville said.
"And second," Hermione went on like she hadn't heard his interruption. "He's not going to that public school anyways, so it's not going to matter."
"But he still thinks he has to," Lily sighed. "He's going to have to worry about it until he finds out about Hogwarts."
"Which should happen anytime now," Remus pointed out.
Harry looked in the bowl again.
"Oh," he said, "I didn't realize it had to be so wet."
"Sarcasm doesn't work on her," Lily said over the Maruaders' and Ron's and Ginny's laughter.
"Don't be stupid," snapped Aunt Petunia. "I'm dyeing some of Dudley's old things gray for you. It'll look just like everyone else's when I've finished."
"Yeah… right," Lily said slowly rolling her eyes. "Sometimes I don't know if she really thick or just likes to act an idiot on purpose."
Harry seriously doubted this, but thought it best not to argue.
"Yeah, because arguing only gets him more time in the cupboard," James said angrily.
He sat down at the table and tried not to think about how he was going to look on his first day at Stonewall High — like he was wearing bits of old elephant skin, probably.
"Charming," Sirius said laughing.
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.
"Horrible."
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.
"He's making the fat oaf do something?" asked Sirius incredulously.
"Make Harry get it."
"And there goes that," Ron said shaking his head.
"Get the mail, Harry."
"Make Dudley get it."
"Poke him with your Smelting stick, Dudley."
Harry 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 Harry.
"Hogwarts' letter perchance," Sirius said and everyone rolled their eyes at him.
Harry picked it up and stared at it, his heart twanging like a giant elastic band. No one, ever, in his whole life, had written to him. Who would? He had no friends, no other relatives — he didn't belong to the library, so he'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
Lily pressed her lips together at the mention of the cupboard, she still couldn't believe that her son had to endure almost ten years of living in a dark, dank, place like that. She was lucky that he was able to turn out so well. He could've been a monster.
The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink.
"Ours aren't done in green," Alice said.
"Yeah, it's blue," Frank said. "I guess its changes depending on who sends the letter."
"Whatever," Alice shrugged.
There was no stamp.
Turning the envelope over, his hand trembling, Harry saw a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H.
"Yes, Hogwarts!" Sirius shouted.
"Hurry up, boy!" shouted Uncle Vernon from the kitchen. "What are you doing, checking for letter bombs?" He chuckled at his own joke.
"That was possibly the worst joke in the history of bad jokes," Sirius told the book.
Harry went back to the kitchen, still staring at his letter. He 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…"
"HA! I HOPE SHE SUFFERS!"
"Dad!" said Dudley suddenly. "Dad, Harry's got something!"
"Shut up," James hissed.
Harry was on the point of unfolding his letter,
"Why did he open the letter in front of them anyways?" Hermione said.
"How was he supposed to know that they would react like this?" Ginny argued.
"He's lived with them for years and he knows that they do anything to stop him for having something he wanted or might like," Hermione reasoned patiently. "He should have realized they would take the letter away."
"I know that now," Harry told her. "I just didn't realize that they would care that much if I got a 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!" said Harry, trying to snatch it back.
"Who'd be writing to you?" sneered Uncle Vernon,
"Hogwarts!" several people cheered.
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.
"Lovely," James snickered.
"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.
"There's no reason for her to be so dramatic," Lily tutted.
"I don't know why she's so surprised," Remus said. "She's seen the signs of magic more clearly than anyone else."
"But she tries so hard to not believe any of that," James argued.
"I guess... but it's just stupid to repress things that she knows have to be true," Remus said shaking his head.
"Vernon! Oh my goodness — Vernon!"
"They don't seem too pleased about the letter," Frank chuckled.
"No, and it only made me want to read it more," Harry said.
They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten that Harry 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.
"And his father just lets him hit him like that," Hermione said shaking her head.
"I want to read that letter," he said loudly.
"And what, prey tell, entitles you to read that letter?" Sirius asked.
"Nothing, but he's used to gettiing everything else he wants, so why can't he have this?" Harry said bitterly.
"I want to read it," said Harry 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!" he shouted.
"See, I told you he got his mum's temper," Neville said grinning. Harry grinned back at his friend, even as he felt indignant at being compared to his mum. Even a year ago Neville wouldn't have felt comfortable enough to say that to Harry, not to mention with all these other people in the room.
"Let me see it!" demanded Dudley.
"OUT!" roared Uncle Vernon, and he took both Harry and Dudley by the scruffs of their necks and threw them into the hall, slamming the kitchen door behind them. Harry and Dudley promptly had a furious but silent fight over who would listen at the keyhole; Dudley won, so Harry,
"Oh, come on Harry you can beat him," Sirius said.
"I'd like to see you take on someone that's more than twice your weight," Harry said. "I'm lucky he never decided to sit on me, instead of punching me." Several people laughed at that, but Harry meant it.
his glasses dangling from one ear, lay flat on his stomach to listen at the crack between door and floor.
"I would choose that spot anyway."
"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?"
"Did they really know he was sleeping in a cupboard?" Lily asked. "And they didn't do anything about it?"
"Not necessarily," Hermione answered. "The letters are addressed by an automatic spell... they might not have realized where he slept."
"Watching — spying — might be following us," muttered Uncle Vernon wildly.
"Like we would care about you," Sirius said.
"No but we do care about Harry, besides at least Dumbledore has someone keeping some kind of eye on him," Frank said.
"I guess," Sirius pouted.
"But what should we do, Vernon? Should we write back? Tell them we don't want —"
Harry could see Uncle Vernon's shiny black shoes pacing up and down the kitchen.
"No," he said finally. "No, we'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer… Yes, that's best… we won't do anything…"
"That's not going to work," Sirius said.
"It might, if he doesn't respond…" Lily said worriedly.
"Don't worry, we know that he gets to Hogwarts," James said confidently.
"Besides, there no way that they would let Harry Potter not come to Hogwarts," Neville said.
"Hey, Nev," Harry said suddenly curious, he really had no idea just how famous he was.
"Yeah?"
"Was I really that big."
"Yeah Harry," Neville said laughing. "Like Dumbledore said before, everyone heard your story. You sort of became the person that parents pointed to as a role model. I can't remember how many times my gran brought you up when she was reprimanding me. 'Harry Potter would never do that' or 'if you keep on working hard, you'll be like Harry Potter'. Now that I know you, I know it's not really something I should aim for, you're bloody crazy."
"Like you're sane," Harry said laughing with his friend. "You did some pretty crazy things yourself."
"Yeah, like follow you," Neville laughed.
"That would be it," Harry chuckled.
The parents of the two boys just looked at their sons not really understanding what was going on, but at least getting the idea that they where indeed good friends.
"But —"
"I'm not having one in the house, Petunia! Didn't we swear when we took him in we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense?"
"Stamp out that dangerous nonsense," Lily said through gritted teeth. "You can't stamp magic out."
"It probably just made it stronger," Remus said. "Accidental magic is caused by heighten emotions and anger or fear are powerful sources for that."
That evening when he got back from work, Uncle Vernon did something he'd never done before; he visited Harry in his cupboard.
"I bet he's trying to butter him up now," Remus said narrowing his eyes. "So the wizards spies think that he treats Harry like a human."
"Where's my letter?" said Harry, the moment Uncle Vernon had squeezed through the door. "Who's writing to me?"
"No one. It was addressed to you by mistake," said Uncle Vernon shortly.
"Not even Sirius would believe that one," James announced.
"Hey," Sirius said.
"I have burned it."
"Why, you piece of scum," Lily said.
"It was not a mistake," said Harry angrily, "it had my cupboard on it."
"SILENCE!" yelled Uncle Vernon, and a couple of spiders fell from the ceiling.
Ron shivered at that.
He took a few deep breaths and then forced his face into a smile, which looked quite painful.
"Probably was."
"I hope it was."
"Er — yes, Harry — 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 Dudley's second bedroom.
"What?" Lily said beside herself now as she turned to Harry. "You had to sleep in a cupboard and they… that … he had two bedrooms."
"Yes," Harry said truly afraid of his mother for the first time, he could sense the energy that was emanating for her.
"There's also a guest room," he added in a low voice.
Lily eyes bugged and she got up and went somewhere were no one could see her, so she could rage in peace.
"Why did you tell her the last bit?" James said watching his girlfriend with concern.
"I figured she would find out eventually, might as well tell her now," Harry said, he too was concerned.
"Why?" said Harry.
"Why are you questioning it?" James as.
"He was doing something nice for me," Harry said. "It didn't feel right."
"Hmph," James said, he too looked like he wanted to get things off his chest.
"Don't ask questions!" snapped his uncle. "Take this stuff upstairs, now."
The Dursleys' house had four bedrooms:
"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 one trip upstairs to move everything he owned from the cupboard to this room.
"That's so sad."
He sat down on the bed and stared around him. Nearly everything in here was broken. The month-old video camera was lying on top of a small, working tank Dudley had once driven over the next door neighbor's dog; in the corner was Dudley's first-ever television set, which he'd put his foot through when his favorite program had been canceled;
"Prat."
there was a large birdcage, which had once held a parrot that Dudley had swapped at school for a real air rifle, which was up on a shelf with the end all bent because Dudley had sat on it. Other shelves were full of books. They were the only things in the room that looked as though they'd never been touched.
"That's a real shocker," Ron scoffed.
From downstairs came the sound of Dudley bawling at his mother, "I don't want him in there… I need that room… make him get out…"
"Need that room," Hermione said raising an eyebrow. "All that was in it was junk he never used!"
"But you're forgetting the principle of the matter," Remus said through gritted teeth. "He doesn't want Harry getting anything, especially if it makes him remotely happy... so of course he needs that room."
"It was the first time ever that he didn't get what he wanted," Harry stated.
"Wow, they can actually say no to him?" Frank asked incredulously.
"That just shows you how afraid they are of wizards," James said.
Harry sighed and stretched out on the bed. Yesterday he'd have given anything to be up here. Today he'd rather be back in his cupboard with that letter than up here without it.
"Definitely."
Next morning at breakfast, everyone was rather quiet. Dudley was in shock. He'd screamed, whacked his father with his Smelting stick, been sick on purpose, kicked his mother, and thrown his tortoise through the greenhouse roof, and he still didn't have his room back.
"Prat!"
Harry was thinking about this time yesterday and bitterly wishing he'd opened the 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, made Dudley go and get it.
"I really wish he hadn't," Harry said gloomily, than he remembered his encounter with Hagrid and thought that maybe things worked out for the best.
They heard him banging things with his Smelting stick all the way down the hall. Then he shouted, "There's another one! 'Mr. H. Potter, The Smallest Bedroom, 4 Privet Drive —'"
"What an idiot," Ron said. "He wanted to read the letter as much as Harry does, he should have kept his mouth shut."
"True, but I'm not sure he can read yet, so he might need mommy dearest to do it for him," Sirius smirked.
With a strangled cry, Uncle Vernon leapt from his seat and ran down the hall, Harry right behind him. Uncle Vernon had to wrestle Dudley to the ground to get the letter from him, which was made difficult by the fact that Harry had grabbed Uncle Vernon around the neck from behind. After a minute of confused fighting, in which everyone got hit a lot by the Smelting stick,
"Ouch."
Uncle Vernon straightened up, gasping for breath, with Harry's letter clutched in his hand.
"Go to your cupboard — I mean, your bedroom," he wheezed at Harry. "Dudley — go — just go."
Harry walked round and round his new room. Someone knew he had moved out of his cupboard and they seemed to know he hadn't received his first letter. Surely that meant they'd try again? And this time he'd make sure they didn't fail. He had a plan.
"I don't like the sound of that," Lily said re-entering the room. "It sounds like something your father would do."
"Well, what was I suppose to do?" Harry asked. "Just sit there and take it."
"No, I suppose I wouldn't want you to do that," she smiled at him.
The repaired alarm clock rang at six o'clock the next morning. Harry turned it off quickly and dressed silently. He mustn't wake the Dursleys. He stole downstairs without turning on any of the lights.
"Not a bad plan," Sirius said.
"I'm glad it got the Marauder's seal of approval," Harry said.
"No plan should be carried out without it," Sirius said in his most serious voice.
He was going to wait for the postman on the corner of Privet Drive and get the letters for number four first. His heart hammered as he crept across the dark hall toward the front door —
"AAAAARRRGH!"
Harry leapt into the air; he'd trodden on something big and squashy on the doormat — something alive!
"Oh drat, the oaf thought of it too," Sirius said. "At least you got to step on him."
Lights clicked on upstairs and to his horror Harry realized that the big, squashy something had been his uncle's face.
"WOOT!"
Uncle Vernon had been lying at the foot of the front door in a sleeping bag, clearly making sure that Harry didn't do exactly what he'd been trying to do. He shouted at Harry for about half an hour and then told him to go and make a cup of tea. Harry shuffled miserably off into the kitchen and by the time he got back, the mail had arrived, right into Uncle Vernon's lap. Harry could see three letters addressed in green ink.
"I want —" he began, but Uncle Vernon was tearing the letters into pieces before his eyes.
Uncle Vernon didn't go to work that day.
"You mean he doesn't get to work with is boring drills... what a shame," James said.
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 just give up."
"Er... wouldn't the postman just knock on the door?" Hermione asked.
"I'm not sure the postman is the one delivering the letters," Lily answered. "They don't have stamps remember."
"Oh right," Hermione blushed. "But whoever was sending those letters isn't going to be stopped by that anyways."
"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.
"And that's something we are all proud of," Frank said.
Sirius just pouted for a minute until Remus said, "For Merlin sakes, carry on reading and stop pouting... just because Frank said what you wanted to."
On Friday, no less than twelve letters arrived for Harry. As they couldn't go through the mail slot they had been pushed under the door, slotted through the sides, and a few even forced through the small window in the downstairs bathroom.
"Knew that wouldn't stop them."
Uncle Vernon stayed at 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.
"It looks like he's really cracked this time," Sirius laughed.
"You know, things are a lot funnier now," Harry said laughing at his uncle's crazy antics.
On Saturday, things began to get out of hand. Twenty-four letters to Harry found their way into the house, rolled up and hidden inside each of the two-dozen eggs that their very confused milkman had handed Aunt Petunia through the living room window.
"Twenty-four letters?"
"In eggs?"
"I love wizards!"
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 this badly?" Dudley asked Harry in amazement.
"A lot of people actually," Neville said, then he blushed.
"What is it?" Alice asked, noticing her son's sudden discomfort.
"Oh, it's just…well I remembered writing to Harry Potter once…" Neville said in barely over a whisper. Lots and lots of people had written fan mail to Harry, but Neville had never really told him that.
"Really?" Harry said shocked.
"I guess you never got it," Neville said.
"No, I guess the Ministry or Dumbledore must have stopped my fan mail," Harry said then suddenly smiled. "Hey, Gin? Did you ever write?"
"Er…maybe once or twice," Ginny told him squirming in her seat.
"Ha, more like every week since you were eight," Ron laughed.
Everyone redoubled their laughter at that.
"I wonder what happened to them?" Neville asked.
"Who knows," Harry shrugged.
On Sunday morning, Uncle Vernon sat down at the breakfast table looking tired and rather ill, but happy.
"No post on Sundays,"
"That's what he thinks," Sirius said.
he reminded them cheerfully as he spread marmalade on his newspapers,
"…Marmalade on his newspapers? What kind of messed up family is this?" Remus asked, incredulous.
"no damn letters today —"
"Don't swear in front of my son!"
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 Harry leapt into the air trying to catch one —
"Why didn't you just pick one off the floor?" Frank asked.
Harry blushed, he never thought of that. In his defense though, his instincts were to catch things, even before he had been made Seeker on the Quidditch team...
"Frank, be nice," Alice chastised.
"Sorry."
"Out! OUT!"
Uncle Vernon seized Harry around the waist and threw him into the hall.
"He better not hurt my baby."
When Aunt Petunia and Dudley had run out with their arms over their faces, Uncle Vernon slammed the door shut. They could hear the letters still streaming into the room, bouncing off the walls and floor.
"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!"
He looked so dangerous with half his mustache missing that no one dared argue.
"I sure as hell wouldn't."
"Sirius!"
"Sorry, Lils."
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 back seat; 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.
"What an idiot," everyone laughed.
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.
"I don't believe it, but he has gone even more mental then he was before," Sirius said, receiving laughs from everyone.
They didn't stop to eat or drink all day. By nightfall Dudley was howling. He'd never had such a bad day in his life. He was hungry, he'd missed five television programs he'd wanted to see, and he'd never gone so long without blowing up an alien on his computer.
"Welcome to my life, Dud," Harry said.
Lily and James frowned at that.
Uncle Vernon stopped at last outside a gloomy-looking hotel on the outskirts of a big city. Dudley and Harry shared a room with twin beds and damp, musty sheets. Dudley snored but Harry stayed awake, sitting on the windowsill, staring down at the lights of passing cars and wondering…
"What did you think about?" Lily asked her son.
"I'm not sure really," he told her, not knowing what was going through his head eight-ish years ago, "probably along the lines of who was writing me, and if someone was going to take me away from the dreary life I lead."
They ate stale cornflakes 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 one of you Mr. H. Potter? Only I got about an 'undred of these at the front desk."
She held up a letter so they could read the green ink address:
Mr. H. Potter
Room 17
Railview Hotel
Cokeworth
Harry made a grab for the letter but Uncle Vernon knocked his hand out of the way. The woman stared.
"I'll take them," said Uncle Vernon, standing up quickly and following her from the dining room.
"It's illegal to take... er... open another person mail," Lily said.
"Wouldn't it be better just to go home, dear?" Aunt Petunia suggested timidly, hours later, but Uncle Vernon didn't seem to hear her.
"He should listen to her, she at least knows a little about our world, no matter how much she tries to forget it," Lily said sadly.
Exactly what he was looking for, none of them knew. He drove them into the middle of a forest, got out, looked around, shook his head, got back in the car, and off they went again. The same thing happened in the middle of a plowed field, halfway across a suspension bridge, and at the top of a multilevel parking garage.
"He's trying to find a place that the wizard won't go to," Remus said. "Good luck with that."
"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Dudley asked Aunt Petunia dully late that afternoon.
"Wow, he's so far gone even his son realizes it," Frank said.
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."
Monday. This reminded Harry of something. If it was Monday — and you could usually count on Dudley to know the days the week, because of television
"That's so sad. Only knowing the days of the week because of television."
— then tomorrow, Tuesday, was Harry's eleventh birthday.
"Really, happy birthday," Lily said looking at her son, who just blushed.
"Lily it's his birthday in the book, not in really life," Sirius said exasperated. "Even I know that."
"No, its his birthday today, a mother knows," she said, she notice her son hadn't said anything and was sure she was right. "I bet you two Galleons it is."
"Lily, you don't believe in betting," James said. "All those times you broke up our p…"
"That was at school James, it was against the rules," she said. Harry grinned at her, that was the mum he expected to meet, the one just like Mione.
"Oh, come on Lils," Sirius said.
"Are you afraid?" Lily goaded him.
"Fine, your on," Sirius said and they both turned to Harry.
"She right," Harry grinned. "It's my eighteenth birthday."
"Damn," Sirius said.
"I knew it," Lily squealed then hugged her son. "Happy birthday Harry."
"Yeah, Happy birthday," Sirius said bitterly handing Lily her winning. "You could have said something before I bet though."
"Where's the fun in that?" Harry said. "Oh, yeah, and it was Neville's birthday yesterday."
"Really," Alice said turning on her own son and hugging him. It was the first time she did it, and it made Neville feel more at peace. All those times visiting his parents at he hospitable and this is all he really wanted from them.
"I say we take a break and celebrate," Sirius said.
"Cool," James said and everyone seemed to be in agreement. After five minutes of congratulation and small talk, a cake appeared in the room.
"Where did that come from?" Remus question.
"This room must be like the Room of Requirements, Moony, it gives us what we want," Sirius said.
"No, that can't be, the Room of Requirements doesn't give food," Neville said, remembering all too clearly the time he spent in that room, the first few days of without being able to get food.
"Does it really matter, it's here and it looks delicious?" Sirius said mouth watering.
"I think this place is beyond time, or something, I remember Mione saying something about it. To sum up the rooms gives us the things we need until we have done what we came here to do." Harry said scathing the back of his head.
"Like I said, whatever, lets eat."
They all sang happy birthday to Harry and Neville and proceeded to eat the cake, and all the other food that appeared moments later. It took about an hour for the group to settle down again and read.
Of course, his birthdays were never exactly fun — last year, the Dursleys had given him a coat hanger and a pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks.
"That's horrible, you never had a gift before," Lily asked.
"Not yet," Harry said, thinking about when Hagrid had given him Hedwig.
Still, you weren't eleven every day.
Uncle Vernon was back and he was smiling.
"It's not good if he's smiling," Frank stated.
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 you could imagine. One thing was certain, there was no television in there.
"Storm forecast for tonight!" said Uncle Vernon gleefully, clapping his hands together. "And this gentleman's kindly agreed to lend us his boat!"
"Of course," said Lily sarcastically, "if there's a storm forecast, we should go in a boat."
"Well, they probably think wizards can't get to them, then," Frank pointed out.
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!"
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 hours they reached the rock, where Uncle Vernon, slipping and sliding, led the way to the broken-down house.
The inside was horrible; it smelled strongly of seaweed, the wind whistled through the gaps in the wooden walls, and the fireplace was damp and empty. There were only two rooms.
"Why did he have to bring them here?" Ginny asked winkling her nose.
"He was trying to get away from the wizards," Frank said.
"I know, but still... agrh, that place give me the creeps," Ginny groaned.
"I'll have to remember that when I'm picking out vacations sites," Harry laughed.
Uncle Vernon's rations turned out to be a bag of chips each and four bananas.
"Oh, what brilliant rations," Sirius scoffed. "How could they get by on that?"
He tried to start a fire but the empty chip bags just smoked and shriveled up.
"Those aren't rations," Lily huffed.
"Could do with some of those letters now, eh?" he said cheerfully.
"Oh just you wait," Lily said muttering under her breath.
He was in a very good mood. Obviously he thought nobody stood a chance of reaching them here in a storm to deliver mail.
"That just shows that he doesn't know anything," Ron said.
Harry privately agreed, though the thought didn't cheer him up at all.
"You're kind of a pessimist, Harry," Remus said.
"You would be too, if you lived my life," Harry said. "Nothing good every really happened to me, well not until this at least."
"And now I'm depressed again," Lily said.
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 up a bed for Dudley on the moth-eaten sofa. She and Uncle Vernon went off to the lumpy bed next door, and Harry was left to find the softest bit of floor he could and to curl up under the thinnest, most ragged blanket.
"Damn these people."
The storm raged more and more ferociously as the night went on. Harry couldn't sleep. He shivered and turned over, trying to get comfortable, his stomach rumbling with hunger.
"My poor baby."
Dudley's snores were drowned by the low rolls of thunder that started near midnight. The lighted 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 heard something creak outside. He hoped the roof wasn't going to fall in, although he might be warmer if it did.
"No he wouldn't... he'd be all wet then," Sirius laughed.
"And crushed by wood," James added, laughing too.
Four minutes to go. Maybe the house in Privet Drive would be so full of letters when they got back that he'd be able to steal one somehow.
Three minutes to go. Was that the sea, slapping hard on the rock like that? And (two minutes to go) what was that funny crunching noise? Was the rock crumbling into the sea?
One minute to go and he'd be eleven. Thirty seconds… twenty… ten… nine — maybe he'd wake Dudley up, just to annoy him
"Yeah, do it," James encouraged.
— three… two… one…
BOOM.
Sirius shouted with excitement, and Harry was glad he didn't volunteer for the next chapter.
The whole shack shivered and Harry sat bolt upright, staring at the door. Someone was outside, knocking to come in.
"I wonder who that could be," Luna said. "That's it for the chapter."
"I'll read next," Neville said.
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