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Tues 26/6/90
Dear Spencer,
You don't need to worry about my cousin and his friends being washed away or drowned, they were all at home during a recent storm when the storm-water tunnels flooded and after the loss of their stash of sweets and whatever and they have abandoned their den so I didn't have to say anything to anyone and luckily nobody was hurt. I don't think that the drains filled up quickly enough that they would have been trapped anyway, well perhaps except for Dudley who wouldn't be able to bear leaving his sweets behind and probably had more in there than he could carry from the sound of his complaints about what got washed away. Dudley hasn't even tried to blame me for the flooding, though he still took the disappointment of not having his own secret place out on me. Unfortunately, now they are back to spending all their time in the park and on the streets tormenting me and the younger children stupid enough to come out to play on their own.
It was Dudley's birthday on Saturday, can you believe that the spoilt brat got thirty-eight presents, half of them things that I'm sure he will either never use or have broken by the end of the term. After cooking him a specially large breakfast and cakes for the class and his favourite dessert, I had to spend the weekend with Mrs Figg while they went to Alton Towers? Alton Towers is a theme and water park, it sounds like it would be a lot of fun if Dudley wasn't there but it's nearly three hours from here by car and I hate being trapped in the car with Dudley more than I hate being near him in general. Piers went with them and they went up Friday after Vernon got home from work so they could spend the whole day in the park and didn't get home until well after I went to bed on Saturday so I spent two nights in Mrs Figg's guest room. It was really nice to sleep in a proper bed but I didn't sleep well. I guess it was too soft and it smells like stale cats and makes my nose run a bit.
I don't think I told you about Mrs Figg, she's an elderly lady I think probably in her seventies or eighties who has about a dozen cats, most of them look like strays she's rescued. She lives around the corner from us. Petunia and Vernon usually send me there to be babysat whenever they go on holiday or out for a special day trip like Dudley's birthday. The only reasons I didn't stay with her when the Dursleys went to America is that she was away and Vernon's boss planned to bring the tickets to us at the airport and was expecting two boys. I've been going there since I can remember but I don't know how it started. She never looks after Dudley and I don't think that she and Petunia like each other very much but she has me every time Petunia asks her to. Dudley calls her the crazy cat lady and he and his friends are a bit frightened of her. You'd think that I'd like going there, I can eat as much as I want within reason and don't have any chores to do except to dry the dishes and carry home the shopping bags and pet the cats. The problem is that she can't cook. I mean she really, really can't cook, and she won't let me do it. This weekend we had over boiled cabbage and boiled mincemeat and cake that tastes vaguely like salmon and I swear one day she tried to feed me cat food. She also used to give me funny medicine that tastes more disgusting than anything I can remember but it made my injuries go away really fast and one time I had a cold with a really bad cough and sore chest, she gave me something that made steam come out my ears and the cold was just gone.
At first, I thought of asking her if she could receive your letters for me before I met my friends at the restaurant but something about her made me not want to tell her about you. I didn't know why I don't trust her but then I had a thought, she's been looking after my injuries every time I went there for years before I started school or was old enough for Kindergarten. She had to know that I was getting hurt at the Dursleys even if she didn't know which one of them was hitting me. And still she never did anything to stop it. She never called the police or took me to a hospital, or offered to keep me. If she'd done something back then it would have worked. Nobody would've been able to say it was my fault or that I got the injuries out playing with other kids.
And those medicines she used to give me worked too well, better than any medicine the doctor gave Dudley when he was injured. She doesn't give them to me anymore, even when I'm hurt now, she just gives me band aids and bandages and some Asprin. I wonder if those medicines had something to do with the healing stuff I can do, or if she was healing me while I was asleep. If that's true then she knows what this power I have is, and she's never told me about it. I'd like to know more about it, but somehow I don't think I should ask her.
I hope you're enjoying your holidays. Are you studying anything or just reading whatever takes your fancy?
Your friend
Harry
A/N: Thank you to all those who reviewed followed or favourited this story for your support.