Dear Heather,

How are you? I'm fine- I hope this letter found you well.

It had. Heather had been going to work like usual and had found it on the ground just outside the door. As soon as she had gotten inside she had begun to read. At once Heather wondered what in the world Ginny head written it in. It was quite unlike any pen Heather had ever used. And on top of that, the method of delivering! Very strange indeed. Maybe it would be explained it the letter...?

Before Heather had even begun to continue reading a disgruntled looking man burst through the doors. He seemed to not notice Heather, sitting behind the counter. She recognized him as the owner; he was muttering to himself, staring at the floor. "Can't believe it... bloody dementors... let him escape..." Heather gave a slight cough to announce her presence.

The small man jumped; his eyes were bloodshot and he staggered when he walked "'Lo... and who are you?" He then hit himself in the center of the forehead with the palm of his hand, "Jackie! No, no... Give me a mo'..." he paused, "Heather!" She smiled, unsure of what was going on. There was silence.

"Um... any reason you came by?" asked Heather.

He gave her a toothy grin, "No reason at all, m' dear!"

"Oh."

Heather shifted in her seat as the man swayed on the spot; it was very quiet. Heather tried to think of something to say.

"It's a nice shop you have here," she gestured toward the books. He just looked at her.

"Forgive me if I'm prying... but who's escaped?"

The man's eyes grew wide, "You'd know! Siruis Black! He was on the Muggle News!" He gasped, then hiccuped, and collapsed in giggles fit for a five year old, not a grow man.

"Yes," said Heather remembering, "He was on the Channel 14 News, too."

The man nodded. Waddling over to the red armchair in the corner of the store he pulled a fat book off the shelf. Holding the book upside down he plunked himself in the chair and said, "Don't mind me!"

Heather returned to reading her letter, ignoring frequent hiccups from the corner of the store.

School, although I have only been here for a few days, has been all right. I am almost ready to go to sleep. (My bed looks so comfy!) I hope you do not think it weird the way I had this delivered to you. My school doesn't do llllllllll mail the way everybody else does. We use birds. To reply to this letter you can just place your letter where I left mine.

How have you been getting along since I last saw you? (Although that wasn't that long ago.) Has school started up yet? How is it going? Hope you are well -Ginny

That was, by far, the strangest letter Heather had ever received. She read it again. They used birds? Who the hell does that? She squinted when she came to the cross out. Curios, she flipped the letter over and held it up to the light. She read, "muggle post." Muggle? It rang a bell- she turned to the red armchair. It was empty- Clang! The bell rang, telling Heather the old man had left the shop. Without a second of thought Heather had hoped over the counter, planning to follow him. Heather's mother had always told her she was too curious. Was it a fault in her character? Heather hardly knew, but now wasn't the time to be thinking of that. He had run to the alley next door, but- what? She blinked. Was she hallucinating? No one else seemed to notice it. She headed for the door of the "new" building and pulled it open, again, without thinking about it. It appeared to be a small pub. A few people were scattered throughout, talking amongst themselves and having a few drinks. As she approached the center of the room she saw a broom dusting the floor. Not a person dusting the floor with a broom. A broom, moving itself, floating in midair! Heather wiped her head from side to side- blonde hair being tossed in every direction. Didn't the people realize what was happening? She was a man watching his drink stir itself, like it was completely normal. What was gong on?

Thud! Heather found herself sprawled on the floor. She had tripped over a table leg, because, of course, she had not been paying attention to were she was walking. She got up- all eyes on her. Backing up she felt this wasn't a place a thirteen year old girl should be. She ran to the door, wrenched it open, and threw herself into the sunlight. No , she thought as she looked around. She had went through the wrong door! It had lead to the alley in back of the pub. The door opened and out came the man who had watched his drink stir itself. He kept his eyes on the ground as he pulled a slender piece of wood out of his pocket. Heather made no noise- she held her breath. Walking up to the brick wall he began to tap some of the bricks. What the hell is he doing? Heather stepped forward, just as the brick wall began to slide apart.