Chapter 2

The Library

The next morning, after her family left, although Mrs. Figg would be gone for a few weeks on vacation, Harriet set off in search of a book. Finding the address of a public library in a White & Yellow Pages book, she left the house, and walked down the street. Ten blocks later, she reached her destination.

Harriet went inside. Compared to her toddler size, the library was very large and intricate, almost like a royal palace. There were pretty paintings on the walls and several rooms full of books. Walking further in, she saw a middle aged woman with a pointed nose and pursed lips sitting at the front desk. Her name tag read Irma Pince - Head Librarian. Harriet walked past a cranky looking man hunched over his mop and bucket while he cleaned the floor. His name tag read Argus Filch Pince - Janitor. Both he and Mrs. Pince looked up when they heard the little girl's footsteps.

"Excuse me, ma'm', Harriet said innocently, 'could you please tell me where the children's books are?"

"They're in that room to your left, dear.", Mrs. Pince answered, pointing in that direction. Then she asked, "Do you need help finding anything specific, like a picture book?"

"No thank you, ma'm. I'm sure I can manage.", Harriet responded sweetly. She walked to her left into a lovely soft-colored room with tables and comfy chairs, and picked out a book to read. Needless to say, Mr. and Mrs. Pince were no longer completely focused on their work. Instead, they curiously watched the raven haired bespectacled little girl who was quietly reading in an armchair.

From then on, every day when her family left for their own business, Harriet walked the ten blocks to the library and devoured one book after another. Eventually, when she finished all the children's books, she started wandering around the library in search of something else. And it was that day that Mr. and Mrs. Pince, who had both been quietly observing her with fascination and interest for the past few weeks, decided to offer her some valuable library advice.

"You know, Harriet, if you sign your name on these two papers I have here', Mrs. Pince said after bringing Harriet to her desk, 'you could have your own library card. And then you could use it to check out books to take home, so you won't need to walk here every day. You can borrow as many as you like, as long as you return them in three weeks or less."

Harriet smiled. "That would be wonderful, Mrs. Pince. Thank you."

So, as Harriet grew, so did her strong young mind. Nurtured by the voices of all those authors who had sent their books out into the world like birds into the sky. These books gave Harriet a hopeful and important message: "You are not alone".

Which, unfortunately, was usually how she felt at home.

One night, her father walked into her small bedroom. "Did any parcels come today?"

Harriet shook her head. It was then that Mr. Dursley noticed all her library books strewn on the floor like splattered paint on a canvas. "Where'd all this come from?!"

"The library."

"The library?! You've never set foot in a library, you're only four years old!"

Harriet frowned. "No I'm not, Daddy. I'm six and a half."

"What? No, you're four!", Mr. Dursley argued. "If you were six and a half, you'd be in school by now!"

Harriet's cheeks flushed scarlet in annoyance. "I am six and a half, and I want to go to school. I told you yesterday that I was supposed to start school in September, but you wouldn't listen."

Mr. Dursley had had enough. "Alright, that's it, get up!" He pulled her up from her sitting position on her chair and dragged her to the main bathroom, where Harriet's mother was putting peroxide in her curly blonde hair.

"Dearest Pet, how old is our daughter?", Mr. Dursley asked his wife.

Mrs. Dursley frowned for a moment before saying "Four, Vernon dear."

"That's not right, Mummy, I'm six and a half!", Harriet protested. "I turned six at the end of July!"

"Now, that's enough, there's no need to fib about something like your age!", Mrs. Dursley snapped.

"But I'm not lying! Why can't I go to school?", Harriet questioned.

Mr. Dursley scoffed. "That's out of the question, you little brat. We can't leave parcels for business lying on the doorstep. Now get out of our sight and quit bothering us."

As Harriet walked back to her room, she could hear her mother say to her father, "You know, sometimes I think there's something wrong with that girl."

Mr. Dursley scoffed again, putting his favorite hair tonic in his thick black hair. "Tell me about it."

Dudley, who had come upstairs with a bag of crisps, saw Harriet and decided to bully her. "Hey, Freak! Want a crisp?" He threw a couple of potato crisps in his hand at her. She ignored his taunts as she closed her bedroom door. Once in her room, she started to cry silently.

It was times like these that Harriet longed for a friend. Someone like the kind, courageous heroes and heroines in her books. It occurred to her that, like magic wizards and big, friendly giants, such people might exist only in storybooks. But Harriet was about to discover that she could be her own friend, that she had a kind of strength she wasn't even aware of.