Chapter Two: The Letter For No One

Ten years later, the sun rose on a house and yard which were an embarrassment to the rest of the neighborhood.

"Reese, Malcolm, Dewey, get in here for breakfast," Lois called. "There are only two toaster waffles so one of you has to have cereal."

"Don't push me." "You pushed me." "I told you not to shove me." "Let me get some." "You cheated."

"Honey," Hal said as he walked in the kitchen. "I found this letter in the mailbox. The address is right but it's for someone named Harry . . ."

"Oh that," Lois said. "Just put it back for the mailman."

"He's not going to do anything," Hal insisted. "He never does. I'll just throw it out."

"Fine, whatever," Lois said.

Hal walked in the next day, with the mail. "Honey, I've got the gas bill, the electric bill, the phone bill, it's pretty thick . . ."

"That Francis," Lois said angrily. "I told him to stop charging phone calls to this number."

"And we have another letter for that guy, Harry."

"Just toss it, Hal."

"Mom, don't do that," Malcolm said.

"And why not?"

"Look at how thick that paper is. I bet it will burn great. We can put it in the fireplace."

Hal perked up. "That's a good idea, son. We'll check it out." After they were done, Hal admitted that it did burn well. "Too bad we don't have more letters."

There was a knock on the door, and Lois answered. The mailman was there.

"I've got four letters for you. You need to sign for them."

Lois signed, and took the four letters. "Hey, wait a minute. These aren't for us."

The mailman either didn't hear, or ignored her, and kept walking. Lois shrugged. She gave them to Malcolm to put by the fireplace. Hal could have another short fire when he got home.

But the letters did not stop. The next day, there were eight letters, the following day there were twenty, then fifty. Hal was ecstatic. He was able to keep a fire going in the fireplace for almost half an hour.

On Sunday, Hal and Malcolm were actually disappointed. There was no mail that day and they had no hope of using the fireplace. The idea of buying wood never occurred to either of them. To be truthful it had occurred to Malcolm but even Reese agreed it was stupid to pay for something you were just going to set fire to. Unless it exploded.

Hal was sitting in the kitchen reading the paper, while Lois was trying to clean up. Reese, Malcolm and Dewey were sitting in front of the TV watching wrestling. And unbeknownst to them, hundreds of owls were flying overhead.

Suddenly the fireplace began to rumble.

"Santa," Dewey cried out. "Santa came early."

"It's not Santa, stupid," Reese said, then looked at Malcolm.

"Of course not. It's only July."

Reese smiled and smacked Dewey. "You see, you little jerk."

"Reese," Lois yelled as she stormed into the living room. "I told you not to hit your brother." She turned to the fireplace. "Hal, some birds are caught in the flue again."

"They'll find their way out," Hal replied. "They always do."

Yeah. That smell of burnt feathers never means anything.

At that point the first letter flew out of the fireplace. Then another flew out and another. Soon, the room was filled with hundreds of letters. Everyone stared in amazement. Hal recovered first.

"Okay, boys. Help me gather all these letters together. I'll get the string."

With unusual cooperation the three boys helped their father gather every envelope. Dewey had to be reprimanded several times for eating the wax seals but that was all.

"Dad," Dewey asked at one point when he opened a letter. "What's Hogwarts?"

"It's just some mail order company, Son. They're trying to pawn off their credit card on us. If we respond to even one of these letters, do you know what will happen? They'll send catalogs. Then we'll get phone calls about special sales. And then they'll start sending the monthly bills. And after that, they'll call again, but this time they won't be as friendly. And then we'll have to sell your teddy bear just to keep them from taking the house."

Dewey nodded as Hal made his point and handed the letter to his father. Hal noticed the wax seal was missing, and put his hand out. "Spit it out, son."

"I already swallowed it."

"Well, don't do it anymore. You'll ruin your supper."

"Okay."

That night, Hal and Lois were stretched out on the couch. Hal whispered into her ear. "The fire is so romantic."

"We'll have time later," Lois said. "Why don't we just relax and enjoy this?"

"You're right, dear. Malcolm, throw another bundle on the fire."

"Sure, Dad."

This fire is great. The part I like best is the smell of the wax as it melts. And we received enough letters today to keep it going all night. Well, at least until midnight. And that's what I'm really excited about. At midnight, I become eleven. Then I can go to the arcade by myself without parental supervision. At least without lying about my age.

Hal noticed the clock. "Look at the time, son. It's almost midnight."

"Ten seconds to go," Malcolm said excitedly. "Nine, Eight, Seven, Six, Five, Four, Three, Two, One. I'M ELEVEN!"

"Happy Birthday, Malcolm." Lois said.

"Yeah," Hal agreed, giving his wife a special look. "Now go to bed."

"WHAT?"

Lois returned Hal's special look. "You heard your father, Malcolm. You can finish being eleven in the morning."

It figures. I never get to do anything.

BOOM. Someone banged on the door.

"I'll get it," Malcolm said.

"Who would be knocking this time of night?" Lois asked.

"I don't know," Hal answered. "I thought we payed all the bills."

BOOM.

"I'M COMING," Malcolm yelled. He walked up and opened the front door to see a giant of a man with a dark bushy beard staring at him.

"HARRY," Rubeus Hagrid said cheerfully.

"Dad, it's a salesman."

Hal got to his feet angrily and stormed toward the door. "Look, we're not interested in buying anything." He slammed the door in Hagrid's face. The door bounced back after hitting Hagrid's boot.

"What the blazes are ye talkin' about? I'm not here to sell ye anything."

"Then why are you here?" Hal asked in surprise.

"Well, I came to make sure Harry received his letter. We never got a reply to any of the others we sent."

Hal started laughing. "Well the joke's on you. There's no one here named Harry. You've got the wrong address." Suddenly, Hal paused. "Do you ride a custom Harley?"

"No," Hagrid said, "I told ye I only borrowed it that night."

"I remember you now, Your name's Hagrid."

"Tha's right," Hagrid said in relief. "Ye had me worried that I actually was in the wrong place. So where's Harry?"

"Dad," Malcolm asked. "I thought you said we didn't know anybody named Harry."

"Malcolm, go to bed."

Huh?

"But who's this Harry guy?"

"Malcolm," Lois said coming up from behind him. "Go to bed now. This doesn't concern you."

Hal waved him away. "We'll talk about it in the morning, son. Go to bed."

Disgruntled, Malcolm walked into the bedroom where his brothers were already in bed complaining about how Malcolm got to stay up late.

Hal made sure that Malcolm was gone. "Look, Hagrid. We need to talk."

"But I'm supposed to see Harry. Today's his eleventh birthday."

"Shhh, he might hear you."

Hal and Lois forced Hagrid to step out onto the lawn. Once they were far enough away from the house, Hagrid asked his question again.

"What happened to Harry?"

"We sent him to bed," Lois explained. "We didn't want him to hear us talking."

"Actually," Hal admitted, "We weren't planning on talking at all but that isn't important right now."

"Do you mean that boy was Harry? Wha' happened to his hair? And why did you call him Malcolm?"

"To answer your first question, yes," Hal told Hagrid. "And to answer your second question, we have no idea. Honey, do you want to try for number three."

Lois showed Hagrid the letter she was holding. "I made it a point to get this. It explains number three."

Hagrid took the letter and opened it. "The Human . . . Services . . . is that Department."

Hal rubbed his forehead. "We're going to be here all night."

Lois grabbed the letter from Hagrid. "Look, you're going to have to take my word for it. When you left that baby with us, we adopted him. We gave him a new name. Malcolm. We were throwing those letters away because we didn't remember Malcolm's old name."

"It was on the letters," Hagrid explained. "Harry . . ."

"Hagrid," Hal interrupted. "That's not the problem. The problem is we never told Malcolm he was adopted. If it's not too much trouble could you come back tomorrow. Wait, make that Saturday. That should give him some time to adjust to the news."

Hagrid nodded. "I'll explain it to Dumbledore. We have to have his proper name on the letter anyway." Hagrid paused. "I'm curious. Why'd ye change his name?"

"Oh, um, ah, just a whim," Hal said, giving a false laugh. "You know how newlyweds are."

"Newlyweds? But ye had a six-year-old boy."

"Wait a minute, Hal. Hagrid, why do you need to see Malcolm?"

"To give him his letter. It was his parent's wish. He has to get his letter."

"We'll see you Saturday," Lois said as she grabbed Hal back in the house. Just before she closed the door she popped her head back out, "And could you come earlier? Like before his bedtime?"

"7:00 P.M.?" Hagrid asked. Lois nodded and closed the door.

Hal put his arms around Lois's neck and kissed her. "Now where were we."

"On the couch," Lois answered, and they both smiled.