It was a few weeks later, and the storm had almost passed in the Dursley household; there was no longer a gale blowing in, but instead just a chill in the air and some occasional malevolent spits of rain.

"Boy! Get the mail!" Vernon snapped, gesturing wildly with his newspaper, as he heard the sound of the letterbox slamming shut and the letters falling onto the doormat, and Harry scurried out of the kitchen. He hadn't just been walking on eggshells, he'd been walking on…well…eggs? Broken glass? So, yeah. His feet hurt.

Picking up the mail, Harry flicked through the soggy wet papers, wiping the dregs of rain that had flown in when the letterbox slammed shut off of his hands on his jumper.
Bill…Aunt Marge…Dudley's monthly weigh in with the child obesity clinic…Vernon's work…
And something else.
A thick, yellow envelope, with slightly smudged green ink. Harry held it up in front of him, trying to read who it was addressed to; maybe they'd got the wrong address.
Horry Pgtter, it looked like. Harry considered the possibility of there being a Horry Pgtter on Privet Drive for a moment, almost laughed, then began to panic.

Stumbling he was walking so fast back into the kitchen, he stuffed the odd letter in between the crack of the door to his cupboard as he passed, then burst into the kitchen, panting.
"Have you got it yet?" Petunia interrogated, scowling, and snatched the wet envelopes from his hands. "What took you so long?"
"Nothing." Harry mumbled, worried, and made a conflicted motion with his hand. "Um…bathroom-"
He grabbed the letter from the crack between the cupboard door and the wall and ran upstairs with it. When he was safely in the bathroom, he slammed and locked the door, then sat on the floor with his back up against the sink and tore open the envelope, breaking through the wax seal.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, what do I do…"
Harry stared at the letter that calmly told him that he was a wizard and that he was invited to a school named Hogwarts.
"Boy!" There was an angry yell from the kitchen. "The kettle's boiled!"
Shaking, Harry went back into the kitchen and made his uncle his tea, dutifully adding four sugars and more milk than hot water, but his mind was racing.
No, he thought hysterically. I must have got it wrong. It wasn't for me. It's a mistake. Someone's playing a joke on me.
Harry looked around nervously for secret cameras as he set his uncle's mug down on the dinner table, and as soon as they had lapsed into tense conversation he rushed out of the kitchen, into his cupboard and slammed the door behind him.

He fished around for school homework book and his scratchy biro and, after shaking his head in disbelief, began to compose a reply.

Dear Professor McGonagall,
I am afraid that you might have made a mistake. I am perfectly ordinary, and I am also going to Stonewall High in Surrey this September, so I think that you may have sent the letter to the wrong Harry Potter.
Sorry if this is bothering you, but I wouldn't want some else to miss out?
Sorry, and thanks,
Harry.

He tore the page roughly out of his homework book, folded the page and stuffed it into the pocket of his tracksuit bottoms.
Now all he had to worry about was getting an envelope and a stamp.

It had been two weeks, and Harry had almost forgotten about the letter amidst his worries about going to his new secondary school. He'd pilfered a stamp from Vernon's cluttered desk drawer, swiped an envelope from one of Dudley's birthday cards from the rubbish and taped it up carefully, then handed it secretly to the postman with a plea to put it in the nearby post box.

Petunia was washing out Harry's old uniform in the sink with some grey dye, and the foul stench of it filled the house like a noxious gas, filtering even through the crack under the door for the cupboard. T-shirt pressed over his mouth and nose as a makeshift gas mask, Harry was playing with one of the tin toy soldiers he had stolen from Dudley's collection, pretending that he was a giant and the little figure was his cousin.
"Hiya!" Harry mimed stomping on the little metal Dudley. "Take that!"
He yanked the shoelace out of his battered old trainers and made it wriggle along the wooden floorboards like the boa constrictor from the zoo.
"I'm going to eat you," He hissed, voice low so Petunia wouldn't hear him. "Like the big rat you are!"
He wrapped the shoelace around the toy soldier and started to tighten the grip.
"Delivering the death blow!" Harry whispered triumphantly, and flicked the toy soldier over. "K.O!"

There was a loud forceful knock on the front door that shook it on its hinges, and Harry jumped so violently that he smacked his head into the stairs.
Petunia came hurrying down the hall and knocked sharply on the cupboard door, hissing,
"Stay in there, and stay quiet."
Eyes watering, Harry peeked through the holes in the grate as Petunia pulled open the front door and peered out, then slammed it shut and locked it.
"Vernon!" She cried hoarsely. "Vernon!"
He lumbered into the hallway. "What, Petunia?"
"It's…it's…" Her voice shook with fear. "It's one of them."
All of the colour drained from Harry's uncle's face and he approached the door warily, snatching up his old-fashioned umbrella as he did, then gestured for Petunia to get behind him and slowly opened the door.

"What was that all about, then?" A gruff, stern voice bellowed.
"We're not having this," Vernon snarled. "Leave us alone."
"I'm not 'ere for you, you brute," The voice said scornfully. "I'm 'ere for 'Arry."
"Oh no you're not!" Vernon said, attempting to be menacing, but his voice shook.
Harry was frightened- whoever was behind the door was scaring his uncle- and he pressed himself into the little space behind his bed, trying to make himself as small as possible.

"Move out the way, Dursley," The voice growled, there was a sound of his aunt and uncle protesting and then Harry heard the mysterious person get closer, voice getting louder.
"Where is 'e, then? 'Arry?"
"He's…he's in there…" Vernon's voice was quivering, and Harry tensed, shutting his eyes tightly as the cupboard door flew open.

The light from the kitchen was entirely blocked out by the massive figure standing in the doorway. It was a giant man, with a wild beard.
"What ye doing in a cupboard?"
"It's my room." Harry muttered, terrified.
"Ye sleep in 'ere?" The giant seemed outraged, furious. "He sleeps in a cupboard?"
Vernon mumbled something that may have been 'yes'.

The giant reached into the cupboard and pulled Harry out into the hallway, where he pressed himself up against the wall like it would make him invisible.

"Do you know why I'm 'ere, 'Arry?"
"Um…n-no…"
"I'm Hagrid, I'm the gamekeeper at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
"That's the school I got the letter from." Harry said faintly.
"What letter?" Vernon demanded, with a glare from Hagrid he fell silent.
"So 'Arry," Hagrid said. "Are ye ready to go?

I hope you like it! Reviews are appreciated!
Thanks,
Fly xx