Here's the third chapter, the fourth should be up soon too; I hope you like it!

Chapter Three: An Abundance of Letters

The boa constrictor escape earned the girls their longest punishment ever. By the time they (and by extension, Yolanda and Zuri) were let out, the summer holidays had started, Dudley had broken a fourth of his birthday presents, and managed to use his new bike to knock poor Mrs. Figg over as she tried to cross the street on her crutches.

The triplets, though they didn't hate school, were glad it was over. However, now there was no escaping Dudley's gang, who visited Privet drive every single day. Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon were all big and stupid, and the girls reasoned that Dudley was the leader because he was the biggest and stupidest. The other boys were all happy to join Dudley in his favourite sport: Potter-hunting.

Needless to say, the triplets spent much of their time out of the house. They wandered around the neighbourhood, talking about the end of summer, where they could see a ray of hope. Dudley would be off to Smeltings, Vernon's Alma Mater, while the girls would be going to the local school, Stonewall. While Stonewall wasn't rumoured to be very fun, at least they would be away from Dudley for most of the year, affording an opportunity to, perhaps, make some friends.

Aunt Petunia glared at them as usual when they entered the kitchen one morning to a horrible smell wafting from the sink. The triplets glanced inside and looking questioningly at each other. It looked like dirty rags swimming in gray water.

"What's this?" Lily asked Aunt Petunia. The woman's lips tightened as they always did when one of them dared to ask a question.

"Your new school uniforms," She said shortly.

"Oh," Ivy said, her voice heavy with false innocence. "I didn't realize they had to be so wet."

"Don't be stupid," snapped Aunt Petunia while Daisy covered a giggle with a feeble cough. "I'm dying some of mine and Dudley's old things gray for you. It'll look just like everyone else's when I've finished."

The girls thought this was unlikely, but they cooked the breakfast and tried not to think about how much they would be teased at Stonewall High. They would still be away from Dudley, at the least.

Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in at around eight, and made faces at the smell from the triplets' uniforms. When Aunt Petunia had her back turned to kiss Uncle Vernon on the cheek, Dudley kicked at Lily's legs while aiming a swat at Daisy's head and shoving Ivy with the other arm. It was his usual good–morning to the triplets, impossible to dodge because although Dudley was large and dim–witted, he rarely missed. Ivy was glad that Zuri was upstairs and not hidden under her shirt at the moment.

The girls glared at Dudley as they set the plates on the table and everyone began to eat. A few moments later, they all heard the click of the mail slot and letters flopping onto the mat.

"Get the mail, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon from behind his newspaper.

"Make Daisy get it."

"Get the mail, Daisy."

"Make Dudley get it."

"Poke 'er with your Smelting stick, Dudley."

Daisy deftly dodged the stick and went to get the mail. Six things lay on the mat; a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister, Marge, who was on vacation, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and…wait – letters for the girls?

Daisy picked them up and stared at them, her heart beating fast. No one had ever written to either of before. Who would write to them anyway? They had no friends, no other relatives…they didn't even belong to the library, and so never go so much as a missive complaining about overdo books. Yet here it was, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake, even if Daisy had the smarts of Dudley's friend Malcolm:

Mr. I. Potter

The cupboard under the stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

()

Miss D. Potter

The cupboard under the stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

()

Miss L. Potter

The cupboard under the stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

()

The envelopes were thick and heavy, made of yellow parchment. The addresses were written in shinning emerald ink, and there was no stamp. Turning an envelope over, Daisy noticed a red wax seal with a lion, a badger, an eagle, and a snake, all around a letter H.

"Hurry up, girl!" Uncle Vernon shouted. "What are you doing, checking for letter bombs?" he chuckled as if people's mail exploding was humorous to him.

Daisy hurried into the kitchen, handing Uncle Vernon the bill and postcard, and her sister's their letters, giving them an I know, it's weird isn't it? look. Ivy and Lily stared at her incredulously, and then started to open them.

Uncle Vernon ripped open the bill, snorted in disgust, tossed it aside and turned over the postcard.

"Marge is ill," He told Aunt Petunia sadly, "Ate a funny whelk…"

"Dad!" Dudley said suddenly, "Dad, they've got something!"

The triplets were just about to unfold their letters when they were snatched roughly from their hands.

"Hey!" cried Ivy, reaching for hers.

"Those are ours!" echoed Daisy with a glare.

"Ha! Who'd be writing to you?" Sneered Uncle Vernon, shaking a letter open with one hand and glancing at it. His face went from its normal ruddy red to green faster than the girls had ever seen it before.

"P-p-p-Petunia!" He gasped, looking at her with wide eyes.

Dudley tried to grab the letters, but Uncle Vernon held them both out of his chubby son's reach. Aunt Petunia took it curiously and scanned it. For a moment it looked as though she might faint. She clutched her throat and made a choking noise.

"Vernon! Oh my goodness – Vernon!"

They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten that Lily, Daisy, Ivy, and Dudley were still in the room. The girls couldn't imagine what could possibly worry their aunt and uncle so much, and weren't sure if they should be afraid of what could be in there, or excited.

Dudley wasn't used to being ignored like his cousins, and gave his father a sharp tap on the head with his Smelting stick.

"I want to read those letters," He said loudly.

"We want to read them," Lily said loudly. "As they're ours."

"Get out, all of you," croaked Uncle Vernon, stuffing the letter back inside its envelope.

The triplets didn't move, and neither did Dudley.

"Give us our letters!" cried Ivy.

"Let me see it!" Dudley demanded.

"OUT!" roared Uncle Vernon, and he grabbed the children and threw them out into the hall, slamming the door after them. Dudley and the Potters immediately scrambled to see who would listen at the door. By brute force, Dudley ended up at the key hole. The Potters were forced to press their ears to the cracks between the door and the wall to try and hear something.

"Vernon," Aunt Petunia was saying in a quivering voice, "Look at the addresses – how could they possibly know where they sleep? Goodness, y–you don't think they're watching the house?"

"Watching – spying – might be following us," muttered Uncle Vernon wildly.

"But what should we do, Vernon? Perhaps we write back? Tell them we don't want–"

"No," said Uncle Vernon after a minute. "No, we'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer….yes, that's best…, we won't do anything…"

"But–"

"I'm not having that in the house, Petunia! Didn't we swear when we took the brats in we'd stamp out all that dangerous nonsense?"

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That evening when he got back from work, Uncle Vernon did something he'd never done before: he visited the triplets in their cupboard.

"Where're our letters?" demanded Ivy the moment he had squeezed through the door.

"Who's writing to us?" Lily said quickly. The girls had never wanted something so bad in their lives as to know what was in those letters.

"No one. It was addressed to you by mistake," said Uncle Vernon shortly. "I've burned them."

"It was not a mistake," Daisy said angrily. The triplets hated being treated like they were stupid.

"It had our cupboard on it!" Ivy cried, tears in her eyes. Though the girls were tough, they all hated injustice. The Dursleys never did anything remotely kind for them – was it so much too just ask for the mail that was addressed to them?

"SILENCE!" yelled Uncle Vernon. The triplets winced slightly, while a couple of spiders fell from the ceiling. He took a few deep breaths and then forced his face into a smile, which looked rather painful.

"Er – yes, Daisy, Ivy, Lily – about this cupboard. Your aunt and I have been thinking…you're really getting a bit big for it…we think it might be nice if you two just moved into Dudley's second bedroom."

"Why?" Lily asked curiously. The girls started to feel a bit excited at the idea, but it wasn't like the Dursleys to be nice.

"Don't ask questions!" snapped their uncle, "Just take all this stuff upstairs, now."

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The Dursley house had four bedrooms: one for Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, one for visitors (usually Vernon's sister, Marge, who was horrible and hated the Potter girls almost more than the Dursleys themselves), one where Dudley slept, and one where Dudley kept all the toys and things that wouldn't fit into his first bedroom. It only took the Potters one trip upstairs to move everything they owned from the cupboard.

Dudley's second bedroom was disgusting, littered with not only his extra toys and the broken ones, but also trash, bits of old food, and dirty laundry he had discarded in there. Aunt Petunia boxed up the things that Dudley still liked, put them against one wall, and told the girls they weren't to touch any of it. The old spare bed that had been in the room stayed, their cot was brought up, and Petunia gave them a couple of extra quilts to make a pallet. Now they each had their own sleeping area, and a shabby dresser for their clothes.

"Yesterday, I would have given two day's food to be up here." Ivy said glumly, laying on the bed once everything was in place. Zuri hissed and nudged her chin with her head. Even though it still smelled horrible, and the girls had to agree to alternate sleeping areas to be fair it was still a room they could stand up and move around in.

"Me too." Lily agreed, sitting on the floor and un–tying and re–tying her shoes. "Now I just wish we had the letters."

Daisy and Ivy nodded their agreement, though Daisy's eyes were on Yolanda, who was fluttering around the room excitedly. The girls felt rather selfish for wanting two simple letters when they had a real bedroom for the first time in their lives, but they couldn't help but be curious. Perhaps what was in those letters would change their lives – if they could ever read them.

But realistically, they highly doubted that, even more so than getting a nice present for their upcoming birthday. After all, they were just pieces of paper.

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The next morning at breakfast, Dudley was in shock. He'd screamed, been sick on purpose, whacked his father with the Smelting's stick, thrown his tortoise through the greenhouse roof, and kicked his mother, but he still didn't have his second bedroom back. Daisy was thinking about this time yesterday and wishing she had opened the letters in the hall, or just stuffed them in their cupboard. Lily was wishing the same. Ivy was pushing her eggs around, not feeling hungry but trying to make herself eat – the girls couldn't really rely on meals at Privet Drive. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia kept looking at each other darkly.

When the mail arrived, Uncle Vernon, who seemed to be trying to be nice to the triplets for some reason, made Dudley go and get it. They heard him banging things with his Smelting's stick all the way down the hall. After a moment he shouted, "There're more! Miss I. Potter, the bed, the smallest bedroom, Miss D. Potter, the pallet, the smallest bedroom, Miss L. Potter, the cot, the smallest bedroom–"

With a strangled cry, Uncle Vernon leapt up from his seat and ran down the hall with the triplets right behind him. Uncle Vernon had to wrestle Dudley to the ground to get the letters from him, which was made more difficult by the fact the Lily had grabbed Uncle Vernon from behind around the neck, Ivy had his feet, and Daisy was trying to force the letter from Dudley's pudgy hands as well. After a minute of confused fighting in which everyone got hit a lot by the Smelting's stick, Uncle Vernon straightened up, gasping for breath, both letters clutched in his meaty hand.

"Go to your cupboard – I mean, your – your bedroom," he wheezed to the girls. "Dudley – go – j–just go."

Not an hour later, Petunia came into their smelly room, ignored their questions, and told them to pack up all their things again. Worried that they were going back to the cupboard, or even somewhere worse, the girls hesitated until Aunt Petunia snapped that they were going to move into the guest bedroom now.

The girls stared at each other. The guest bedroom was nice. It was always clean and tastefully decorated and comfortable – there was no way the Dursleys would really let them…

But there they were, two hours later, each sitting on their own bed – actual beds – in a state of shock.

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had taken out the old queen-sized bed, put that in Dudley's second bedroom, and had three used bed frames and mattresses delivered, which Petunia set up with quilts and pillows. Everything besides the bed had been left, and now the girls had two small bookshelves, two bedside tables with small lamps, a dresser, a closet, and a wardrobe, and even a desk and chair. The walls were light brown as they had always been, the curtains framing the large window that looked out over the back garden coloured slate blue, and the carpet the same brown as the rest of the upstairs, but clean unlike it had been in Dudley's second bedroom.

The room was lovely. Perhaps it wasn't fancy or expensive or to their exact tastes, but the beds were comfortable and the white headboards and footboards were clean and minimally carved. The quilts were warm for winter, with thinner ones for summer, their aunt had left all the books that had been in there where they were, and they managed to knick some of Dudley's as well – (he never read them, of course). There were little trinkets and decorations and a nice ceiling fan, as well as a floor lamp between the desk and the dresser. It smelled like vanilla and citrus (and faintly like Marge's dogs, but oh well). The windowsill was perfect for Zuri to soak up some sun on, and they could open the window and let Yolanda flutter in and out.

Some of the books left behind were a set of encyclopaedias, and the girls spent some of that first day in their room looking up Zuri and Yolanda. They learned that Zuri was a rough scaled bush viper, and that Yolanda was a giant leopard moth. They also learned what kinds of foods to feed their animals, and resolved to collect as much as they could the next day.

Unfortunately, things didn't go as planned.

The next day there were twelve letters addressed to the triplets – with their new room mentioned on it. Petunia shredded them in the food processor, and Vernon ordered the girls up to their room before he left for a busy Friday at work.

"They know we've moved from the cupboard," Ivy said once they were upstairs.

"And they know we didn't get the first letter," added Daisy. "So that means they'll try again, right?"

"They have to," agreed Lily quickly, hope in her voice. "They won't give up easily, I bet, whoever they are."

"They won't." Zuri hissed confidently, and Yolanda nodded her little head. The children had gotten used to the fact that both the snake and the moth could understand everything they said, even if Yolanda couldn't talk.

"We have to help them this time," said Ivy, biting her lip. "But what could we do?"

They both thought for a moment. Daisy was hanging off her bed with Yolanda perched on the headboard, Lily was pacing the room, and Ivy was sitting on the floor with Zuri circling her. This was one of the many advantages to finally having a room; in their cupboard, they could barely sit up straight, much less move around.

"I've got it!" Lily suddenly exclaimed with a grin.

The repaired alarm clock rang at six o'clock the next morning. Ivy turned it off quickly and the triplets got dressed silently. Yolanda perched in Daisy's hair, and Zuri curled around Ivy's arm under her sleeve, so that her head could peek out. The girls knew they mustn't wake the Dursleys – that was the most important part of the plan. They quickly stole downstairs without turning on any lights, skilfully avoiding the creaky step.

Lily, Ivy, and Daisy were going to wait for the postman on the corner of Privet Drive and get the letters for Number Four first. Their hearts hammered as they crept across the dark hall toward the front door –

"Wait!" Zuri suddenly hissed in Ivy's ear. They all froze.

"What is it?" Daisy asked, looking around.

"Look!" Zuri said, gesturing with her head. She seemed to be pointing at the floor in front of the front door.

The triplets focused hard, and gasped as their eyes adjusted. It was Uncle Vernon, curled up in a sleeping bag right in front of the door, clearly trying to make sure the girls wouldn't do just what they were trying to do.

"The back door," Lily whispered, and the others nodded and quietly turned around.

The back door squeaked, but not very loudly, and the girls and their animals darted to the back gate, emerging out in the front garden and going quickly to the sidewalk before walking to the end of the block.

Just moments after they made it to their destination, the postman appeared.

"Excuse me, sir," Lily said, "But could we please have Number Four's mail?"

He frowned at them, confused, and Daisy quickly concocted an excuse.

"See, our dog – Ripper, he's called," (Ripper was Aunt Marge's favourite of her many dogs). "Well, he's taken to ripping up all the post when it comes in, so our Aunt and Uncle sent us to collect it."

For one breathless moment, the triplets thought perhaps it wouldn't work, but then the postman smiled ruefully and nodded.

"I've always hated dogs, meself." He said, ruffling through his bag. "Comes with the position, I suppose…Ah, here we are."

He procured a large stack of letters. There were at least forty of the thick envelopes now, along with one of Petunia's magazines and two bills.

"Quiet a lot there, be careful!" he warned, then bade the triplets good day and continued down the street. The girls shared triumphant grins, then ran for Number Four.

They got there just as Petunia had started the sink upstairs to wash her face and brush her teeth as she always did before coming downstairs (which the girls thought was silly; why brush your teeth before you ate?). Their uncle was still snoring on the floor, so Daisy ran upstairs with most of their letters while Ivy carefully placed the other mail and a couple of their missives on their uncle's lap, as if the postman had delivered them. Lily started breakfast.

By the time Petunia and Vernon came in, the girls were almost done with breakfast and itching for the moment they could go upstairs and read their letters. Vernon grinned gleefully at them as he burned the letters on the stove and told Ivy to sweep up the ashes.

It was Saturday, and as usual the Dursleys planned to leave the girls with Mrs. Figg and go to the cinema to see a movie. Of course, Mrs. Figg was still recovering, thanks to Dudley, and no one knew what to do with them.

"We could lock them in their room, I suppose…" Uncle Vernon suggested.

"No, no, I don't want them here alone." Petunia said crossly, glaring at the girls. "We could take them and leave them in the car –"

"The car's new, they're not staying in that!" Vernon said.

There was a moment of silence, during which the girls wondered if they would end up seeing their first movie ever and if it would be possible to sneak Zuri and Yolanda with them (the animals were both upstairs eating), and then –

"Wait!" said Aunt Petunia, "What if we took them to that teacher's house…the one who's always nice to them? She's offered…"

Now the girls' spirits soared. Miss Burbage was their favorite teacher, and she was always nice to the girls. She had even – on a few occasions – taken the girls to a park and some museums under the guise of boring field trips.

"I don't know…" said Uncle Vernon worriedly. The girls knew it was because they would have fun with Miss Burbage, but then Ivy had an idea.

"Please, can't we go to the movie?" she begged, "We'll be very good, we promise!"

The three Dursley glared at the three girls.

"Oh, no!" cried Uncle Vernon, "You're not going to ruin our Saturday! We're calling this Burberry person right now!" he said, getting up from the table and going to the phone book.

The girls had proper looks of dejection on their identical, scared faces, but inside they were thrilled.

"What's the woman's name again?" he asked Aunt Petunia.

"Charity Burbage," answered Daisy for her. Uncle Vernon glared at her but flipped to the B's.

Thirty minutes later, the Dursley's left, warning the triplets that if they touched anything they would be locked in their room for the rest of the summer. Miss Burbage was on her way to pick the girls up after wholeheartedly agreeing to keep them, and assuring Uncle Vernon that they would have no fun at all.

As soon as the Dursley's car pulled out of the driveway, the girls went to work.

"I'll start the shower!" yelled Lily, running up the stairs.

"I'll get the iron!" said Daisy, disappearing into the laundry room.

"I've got the clothes!" yelled Ivy from their room.

Twice a week during recess, the triplets would help Miss Burbage: sweeping, grading papers, cleaning the chalkboard, and organizing books. Miss Burbage had a good amount of money she had inherited from her father after his passing, and offered to pay the girls for their work. They said no, of course; they just liked helping her, but she insisted. They used the twenty dollars between them every week to buy clothes from a second hand shop. They had hid them under their cot – and now in their wardrobe – so their Aunt wouldn't find them, and only used them when they went places with Miss Burbage.

Usually the girls were only allowed one shower a week, two in summer, but Lily hurriedly turned on the taps and got out some towels. They had a routine for the times when the Dursley's were gone.

After the water was hot, Lily ran downstairs, passing Daisy as they switched places. Ivy brought her one dress at a time, as they were hard to get out, and she ironed them.

After a few minutes, Daisy came down the stairs and Ivy went up. Daisy took Lily's place and Lily went to get their shoes so she could clean them.

The Dursley's had black leather shoe polish under the sink, and Lily quickly cleaned the shoes and started the polish, until Ivy came down stairs and Lily went up.

A few months ago, the girls had bought their own soap, shampoo, and conditioner to use when they could, as the Dursley's only allowed them quarter-sized amounts. They hid those in the very back of the top cabinet.

Lily washed quickly and ran back downstairs to get dressed. It had been about forty-five minutes since the Dursley's left and Miss Burbage lived a little less that an hour away. While the girls bustled about, Yolanda took free range of the house and flew all around, while Zuri alternated between slithering around the stair rail and following the girls around.

Finally, the girls were clean and dressed.

All three were wearing plain short sleeved dresses with white peter pan collars and brown shoes. Daisy's dress was yellow, Lily's was red, and Ivy's was green,

With at least half an hour to spare, the girls shared looks before dashing upstairs to their letters. Jumping on Lily's bed, which was in the middle, they each grabbed one, locked eyes, then simultaneously ripped open the envelopes and pulled out their letters at last.

Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Miss Potter,

We are please to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Please find enclosed a list of all necessary school supplies. We await your owl by no later than July thirty-first.

Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress.