A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update - blame school and procrastination. I don't actually have anything to say now so um... bye...
Everything obviously belongs to JK Rowling :)

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

"Where's my letter?" I demanded the second he squeezed his arse through the door, "Who's writing to me?"

"No one. It was addressed to you by mistake. I've burned it."

"Burned it? It was mine! It had my cupboard on it!" I protested, raising my voice.

"SILENCE!" he yelled, and a couple of spiders fell from the ceiling. I shuddered as they scuttled under the bed. He took a few breaths and twisted his face into a sort-of smile. It looked painful.

"Er – yes, about this cupboard. Your aunt and I have been thinking –"

"You mean Aunt, not you and Aunt."

"Yes – anyway – She's been thinking that you're getting a bit big for this cupboard. Particularly a – er – a girl of your age. She thinks it would be better if you moved into Dudley's second bedroom."

I couldn't keep the smile off my face. "Really?" I asked, but then something hit me. The smile slid off my face as I said, "Wait, why? Why now?"

"Don't ask questions!" he snapped, "Take this stuff upstairs now!"

The Dursleys' house had four bedrooms: one belonged to Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia; one was for guests (usually Uncle Vernon's sister, Marge [I hated her]); one was for Dudley and the last was where Dudley kept all his old toys and things that wouldn't fit in his bedroom. It only took one trip to move all the stuff I owned upstairs to my new room. I flopped down on the bed, and sighed, looking at all the old and broken toys.

From downstairs came the sound of Dudley bawling: "I don't want her there! I need that room! She doesn't! Make her get out!"

The day before, I'd have given anything to have an actual room to myself. At that moment, I'd rather have been back in the cupboard with the letter than in the bedroom without it.

.

The next morning at breakfast, everyone was quiet. Really quiet. Dudley was in shock. He'd screamed, cried, hit his father with his Smeltings stick, been sick on purpose, thrown his tortoise through the greenhouse roof and even kicked mother and he still didn't have his second room back.

The letter box clicked and, trying to be nice to me, Uncle Vernon made Dudley go and get it. He banged his stick on the table, but his father glared at him and he stomped off. A moment later he shouted, "There's another one! Miss H. Potter, The Smallest Bedroom, 4 Privet Drive –"

With a cry, Aunt and Uncle Vernon leapt up from their seats and dashed to the hallway. I followed a second later, after recovering from the shock of actually seeing Uncle Vernon move with anything more than a snail's pace.

I was too late, though. Aunt Petunia already had the letter in hand and Uncle Vernon was trying to stop Dudley making a grab for it.

Uncle Vernon noticed me and shoved Dudley up the stairs. "Go on, go to your room, the both of you," he said, gasping for air.

I didn't move.

"I said, move," he repeated, glaring at me. I eyed the letter as I walked up the stairs.

I went round and round in circles in my new room. Whoever had sent the letter had definitely meant it for me, and they had known I'd moved out of the cupboard. They also knew I'd not received the first letter. Surely that meant they'd try again. I was determined not to lose this third letter. I had a plan. I just hoped it worked.

Sorry it's so short. This is basically a filler. I'll provide you with a chunkier chapter when I get around to it... which may not be for a month so I apologise in advance if nothing's up until the end of February or whatever. In the meantime, please review if you can xxx