His eye twitched as he pulled out a muggle note pad and ball point pen and wrote to the goblins...maybe they could help. Windstorm had to have a few ideas…
Dear Mr. Potter,
As honored as I am that you thought of me in regards to the latest problem with Headmaster Dumbledore and I am sorry to say that I am unable to help you the way you need to be helped. President Sculcrushr and I have spoken in depth on this matter and have decided that it is in your best interest to consult with a human solicitor. Included is a list of qualified men and women with some very good and fair reputations...we have, of course, had a background check done on all of them just to be sure. Information on each of them is also included. I wish you the best of luck.
Sincerely,
Windstorm
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Harry was frighteningly busy...he had spent nearly five years out of the muggle schooling system and it was starting to show. Sure, thanks to Hermione he had some idea of what he should have been doing but it was quickly obvious that he had forgotten a good deal of what little schooling he had.
Hogwarts was a magical learning facility...not a practical one. Magic could fix things like spelling and he had never really needed math. He never took Arithmancy! His reading skills were, thankfully, just fine but it he still had a lot to catch up on.
Windstorms reply came while he was struggling through his math homework...he hated fractions!
Thankful for an excuse to put it off, he read her reply.
A solicitor?
He looked at the list of names and sighed. It was nearly a foot and a half long, and unfortunately it couldn't wait.
He glared at his closet door. It was so full of unwanted letters that they were literally sticking through every possible crack and bending the door outward slightly...and more still were stuffed under his bed.
It was ridiculous!
He cursed and went back to his math. He would finish it first before moving on to what he knew would be the cause of a massive headache.
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As predicted, his head was pounding by the time he finished. The sun was up and he was exhausted but he did feel a sense of accomplishment...even though he knew he wouldn't feel so 'accomplished' when he fell asleep in class that day.
He chose a man named Adrian Sanders. He was a 54 year old squib who worked with both wizards and muggles. Apparently, his late wife, Linda, had been a muggle though all five of their daughters were witches. He had a very good record and was known to be a very friendly and kind man. He quickly wrote the man about his troubles and sent his letter off with vex before getting up and ready for school.
His reply arrived that afternoon with good news.
Mr. Sanders agreed to be his solicitor in both the muggle and wizarding world for a very reasonable fee. He was very polite and courteous and gave no indication that he was star struck towards Harry. And, much to Harry's delight, he took care of the problem immediately.
All of his letters would be diverted to a privately owned location where they would be screened and sorted.
Fan mail was burned, all gifts were returned and all hexes/curses/unsavory items were sent to the Aurors so that they could arrest the people who sent them.
Only official mail, letters from his actual friends and mail delivered by his personal owl would be sent directly to him.
Someone even came by to pick up the letters that were gathering in his room...now; if only he didn't have to study for that math test everything would be perfect!
