Ten-year-old Harry Potter was confused. There, among the morning mail on the mat, was a hand-addressed letter for him. It was quite queer.
There was a note in the lower-left corner stating that "interference in the mail" would necessitate a house visit, "backed by Aurors." He turned it over, and on the back was another note. "Harry, if this is you, stuff this in your pocket and hide it." Whoever it was knew Harry usually got the mail, but they had tried to take precautions if it ended up being Vernon instead.
He saw no reason to tell Vernon about his mail, so he did as requested. That night, he read the strangest message he'd seen in his life. While he pondered it, he realized he could ask his aunt the name of whoever had left him with them. Then he reconsidered. First of all, it was a step he couldn't take back, and he'd be alerting the Dursleys something was up. Second of all, if the man who left him here could read minds, and planned a return visit, Harry agreed with "A Friend" that he wouldn't be able to hide his anger at him.
If he was a wizard (and the strange things that happened around him were evidence he might be), there was no harm in trying. He occasionally rummaged in Dudley's second bedroom for things to hide in his cupboard. He remembered a discarded magician's kit. He found the hat and wand and brought them down to his cupboard. He placed the top hat upside down on the floor.
Harry spent all of his free time at school, even on play break, in the library. It was the only time he could escape. When a teacher tried to shoo him outside, he would go, but sneak back in, if he was fortunate, before Dudley's clique could get at him. When a teacher asked him if he didn't want to get some sun and fresh air, his response had silenced her:
"I'll just be beaten by my thug of a cousin and his gang. None of you will ever do anything to help, because my child-abusing uncle has an in with the headmaster."
The worst part was the lack of emotion he displayed. Two different teachers had been dismissed for trying to help Harry, so she knew he was simply stating facts. The worse of the two was the school nurse, who had been there for years. It was rumoured Vernon Dursley had some sort of "in" with the police as well, since otherwise, Dudley would surely have been at least detained at the station by now for what he was up to after school. The teacher who asked him had salved her conscience by sneaking him food to wolf down, using the pretext of keeping him after class, which made Dudley happy.
At any rate, Harry had read every fantasy book in the library.
Waving the wand, he wished for a rabbit, and quietly said "Abracadabra." Nothing happened. "Presto, change-o!" "Hocus Pocus!" "Sim Sala Bim!" "Ajji Majji la Tarajji!" "Jantar Mantar Jadu Mantar!" "Izzy wizzy, let's get busy!" Oh, I wish you would work! he thought, desperately, unconsciously drawing a rabbit in the air in the rough direction of the hat. He definitely felt something then. Unfortunately, nothing appeared. He looked in the hat, and even felt around in it. Nothing. Well, being a wizard probably took practice. Perhaps "A Friend" would send him instructions. He went to sleep disappointed, but not hopeless.
In #2 Privet Drive, Esther Williams had the rare privilege of making her rather short-tempered, gossipy mother smile. Not at the news that Privet Drive had been visited by a bury of rabbits overnight, and they were everywhere, wreaking havoc, but at the observation that they seemed to have burrowed out from #4. She could see her mother contemplate complaining loudly to Petunia Dursley, drawing the other neighbours' attention, then slump. Both Williams women realized the Dursleys were simply too unpleasant to confront. Still, there was no law against gossiping. Esther was silently cheering her on. Sure, she and her mother had more than their share of arguments, but Petunia had made a point of blathering about each and every one of them for at least a week per tiff. See how you like it, Rabbit Woman, she thought.
Hermione couldn't believe herself.
There were some things she did not want to involve her parents in, but still. Sneaking out in the middle of the night and raising her wand, she'd nearly fainted when a bus appeared out of thin air, headed right at her! Then stuttering out Lavender's name, of all people, when asked who she was. She'd been planning on how she'd get along with Sally-Ann, Fay, Parvati and Lavender just before leaving the house. She vaguely recalled Harry doing much the same the first time he rode the Bus, and now she understood why. He was on the lam over some accidental magic, wasn't it? At least I didn't get Luna or Ginny involved, she thought. In fact, invoking poor Lavender was more likely to break the pattern than establish it.
Enduring the ride was her penance for sneaking out, she supposed. But actually pushing a note through the mail slot at #4? Well, perhaps it hasn't the same status with the Royal Mail as an approved postal box? she thought, hopefully. She might be willing to be a minor criminal to help - and, let's face it, win - Harry, but not if it could be helped.
"Hullo, Lavender!" she heard Ernie say as she reboarded the death-trap bus. "What desperate business brings a young witch like you out in the wee hours?"
Hermione was so very tempted to say "A rendez-vous with my boyfriend, Ron." She had contemplated fixing them up when Ron became interested in girls. She would make sure Ron wasn't actively evil first, of course. At any rate, drawing anyone's attention to Ottery St Catchpole, or worse, to Privet Drive, where she was being picked up, was completely not on. She decided the truth was best:
"Believe it or not, I had to meet a mailing deadline." Ernie nodded wisely, but Hermione didn't know him well enough to decipher if he was actually wise or not.
As she closed her eyes later at home, she heard Loony whisper, "You did well."
When she woke up, the dolls had a letter prepared to introduce Hermione to Luna Lovegood. It was full of what she recognized as private Lovegood family code. "Nargles" meant someone being driven by their feelings to do something not thought out, "Wrackspurts" meant they were confused and irrational, and so on. Obviously, her dolls, even Genius, couldn't think as well as she could, but being as they were, they were more objective. And they knew the storyline better than she could, so she agreed to send it. She made a list of things to do and get in Diagon, where she would need to go to rent an owl. She was tempted to buy one, but the "one animal" policy at Hogwarts put the kibosh on that. She couldn't wait to get Crookshanks if he was already there, to be honest. On reflection, she decided a personal owl was too identifying, anyway. When she got Hedwig for Harry, she'd sit him down and give him a long talk on how to send indiscreet messages with her and covert messages with a random owl at the same time.
