Chapter 23
Checkmate
Harry, Remus and Mikhail tried to settle back into the routine they had set when Mikhail had arrived. Harry enjoyed his tutoring and felt he was finally making significant progress with Occlumency. Mikhail agreed and felt that Harry was ready to be tested. Unfortunately, they hadn't quite figured out how to accomplish this yet. Mikhail and Remus decided that Mikhail was least likely to be recognized so he would go and check the drop box every three days or so to see if Dumbledore responded.
A dark brown post owl flew into headquarters, dropped a letter at Mrs. Weasleys feet and flew out of the window. It then entered Ron's room and dropped the letter right on his bed. He was getting ready to open it when he heard a scream from his mum downstairs. He flew down the stairs wand held high, but saw nothing to cause concern. He rushed into the kitchen rolling through the door to make himself a more difficult target. Mrs. Weasley screamed again, startled by the way her youngest son entered the room. She was jolted again when Hermione and Ginny promptly entered the room, back-to-back, wands also drawn. It was almost thirty seconds later before the other Order members came to see what the commotion was all about.
Mrs. Weasley tried to regain her composure as she handed the letter over to her son. "Look. Look. It's from Harry. It's really him isn't it?"
Ron read the letter and smiled broadly. He remembered knocking the troll out in first year. It was one of his finest moments. Well maybe not, but it was what sealed the friendship of the Gryffindor Trio. He quickly handed it over to Hermione.
She read it rapidly and smiled even brighter then Ron. "Yes it's him for sure, Mrs. Weasley."
Mrs. Weasley sat down at the kitchen table feeling relief for the first time in a while. "You're sure?"
"Yes. Look. It was only us three who were there when the troll was knocked out. Who else would know about the bars on his windows and the food shortage? Surely, no one would expect the Boy-Who-Lived to have to deal with those horrible people." They all glared at the ceiling.
He even mentions Gwarp," she shivered. "He wanted to make sure we would know it was from him. He would have never put those things in there otherwise."
All of the Dursleys jumped when they heard the scream. They had been here in this hell for two days, now. Unnaturalness everywhere. Food appeared in their room since they refused to leave the room given to Petunia and Vernon, even for meals. Dudley had even slept on the floor, not wanting to be left alone. There was safety in numbers, he thought. They crowded in the corner of the room closest to the closet ready to climb in at a moment's notice even though it was doubtful that Vernon nonetheless Dudley would fit in the small room.
In a few minutes laughter floated up the stairs. These freaks were barking mad. Screaming, laughing, and making all kinds of ruckus. Vernon Dursley, now assured it was safe downstairs, burst out of his room. He had enough of this nonsense. These people had come to their home and taken them against their will. They ignored them like they were nothing. Surely, courtesy dictated they should be more accommodating to their guests. Sure that dumpy red headed woman had invited them to meals, but you would think they would curb their unnaturalness when they had normal folk about. But no, not these aberrant freaks. They go about like everything is dead fine. Well he would show them just who they were dealing with. Vernon Dursley was not anyone's doormat.
Just as Vernon stormed out the door, determined to give these people a good dressing down, he heard another scream.
"Bloody effing hell!"
Vernon started at the man's voice it was just down the hall from where he was. It was deep but not quite what you would expect from an adult. He was appalled at the language these freaks allowed children to use. Did they have no respect? Then the crash came. The freak was throwing things. Vernon lost the little nerve he had and scampered back into the room.
Mikhail had been watching the owl post office for 15 minutes from the café across the street. He couldn't see anyone but his werewolf senses were prickling. He had the distinct impression that someone was there that he could not see. The scent of alcohol and pipe tobacco was in the air but he could not place it with anyone within his line of sight. He headed into the Owlery very cautiously. He greeted the clerk with affable smile.
"I'm here to check box 634, please," Mikhail stated.
"Oh. Thank Merlin. It's about time someone came."
Mikhail looked puzzled. "What do you mean? It's only been three days since the box was opened."
The clerk looked at him. "You're sure you're here for box 634, right? Harry Potter?"
"Yes. Is there a problem with it?"
"No. No. Wait here I'll be right back."
Mikhail was really on edge now. What was the problem? Why didn't he just check the box? Was there some kind of signal on the box? Did he go to alert Dumbledore, the Order or worse maybe Voldemort? Mikhail pulled him wand and hid it up his sleeve. He wanted to be prepared for anything.
The clerk returned a few minutes later carrying a large sack. Mikhail was really puzzled now. What was going on? The clerk heaved the bag on top of the counter and proceeded to empty it. "What the bloody hell?" Mikhail shouted now.
The clerk eyed him half amused, half annoyed. "Box 634. Harry James Potter. This is all the mail we've received for him since it was opened."
Mikhail stared open-mouthed. There had to be 300 letters here. The clerk snorted at the incredulous look on Mikhail's face. "Uh, maybe it should have been charmed to only receive mail from certain people. You know, The-Boy-Who-Lived and all," the clerk told him with mirth. "Here." He handed him the sack. "Mayhaps, you ought to keep this I think you need it more then I do."
Mikhail nodded blankly. He and the clerk started putting the letters back in the sack. The clerk bent down to pick up a few letters that had fallen to the floor. "Oh look. The seal cracked on this one. Sorry." As he tried to reseal the letter the seal broke completely. Instantaneously the clerk vanished.
"Oh bloody hell." Mikhail grabbed the sack and apparated.
