Disclaimer: Harry Potter still doesn't belong to me, we owe it all to Ms. JKR

Harry was itching to read the next letter already. So many letters to read, and so little to read them in. Ah, well. He would manage somehow. He picked up the next letter, eager to see what was inside.

Dear Harry,

Merry Christmas! I hope you've been enjoying the letters! (Don't open them early!). I also hope that Sirius is feeding you alright. (I've tried his cooking, it's...) If you are in Muggle school (which I highly doubt), don't try to suppress the magic too much. It can actually make it happen more often because of the stress it producing. Interesting, isn't it? Anyhow, merry Christmas!

Love, Mum & Dad

P.S Sirius can cook. -Dad.

Harry couldn't help but laugh. These letters had been written thinking that Sirius would be taking care of Harry. This is what he could have had without blood-bonding. Again, he wondered why these letters had been written. No matter, he could figure that out later. For now, he had things to do.

Why on earth George asked him for stinking scrumpets was beyond him, but these days, no one really questioned George's requests. He went down the stairs, towards a room he had found only recently, but seemed to be a miniature Apothecary. The room itself was not unlike the Hogwarts dungeons: cold and dreary, giving you the feeling you were about to be ambushed. He shuddered a bit as he passed the old fireplace several spiders had made their home in.

Carefully, he scooped the stinking scrumpets back into a bag which, despite the name didn't smell particularly unpleasant. They seemed too large for potion brewing, unless one was to shred, pulverize, or otherwise reduce the size of the crescent-shaped dried fruits - if that's what they were. He made a mental note to asked Hermione about the properties later.

Still holding the bag, he apparated to the Hogsmeade post office, finding himself instantly surrounded by people. He pushed his way inside, and to the front counter.

"Ah, Mr. Potter," the wizard on the other side greeted him. He was wearing a pair of small round glasses positioned at the tip of his nose. He was in no way tall, rather, he seemed slightly short. He had only a ring of white hair left on his head, a small furry patch of hair on his upper lip. and was, with no offense to him, rather large around the middle.

"Hello," he said. "Package to deliver." He waited patiently as the man weighed the bag and scribbled the weight onto a piece of parchment.

"How far?" asked the wizard, adjusting his glasses

"Not sure," admitted Harry.

The wizard wrote this down. "How quick?"

"Fast," responded Harry.

"I'd suggest a male tawny."

"For how much?"

"5 sickles," the man said, his little white mustache moving up and down.

Harry gave him the money, in turn for an owl, which was fluttering its wings restlessly.

"He hasn't been out for a while," the wizard said, observing the bird's behavior.

Harry smiled, giving the tawny the package. "George Weasley," he said. Thankfully, the wizard didn't say anything about this, because surely Harry Potter would be able to deliver a package personally to one of the Weasleys, or had the second oldest one already left for Brazil? That had happened a few weeks ago as was sending a letter to Bill and Fleur, and the witch had not stopped asking questions.

The old wizard released the owl, and Harry left, trying to keep himself unrecognized. He stepped outside the shop, about to apparate away, when a news reporter from the Daily Prophet realized who he was.

Thank you for reading! Again, please review! I'll try to update about once a week, it will depend on how busy I am.

Lera, I'm glad you like my story and want to help me reach a bigger audience. However, I feel that we should wait until the story is finished to further discuss translating. So, I'll get back to you one that, and thank's for reviewing!

Also, thank you to everyone who has Followed/Favorited my story. It really does make a difference.