Avacyn Lily Potter

The Letters

When July came along, Dudley got new uniforms for private school and Petunia was dying some of hers and Dudley's old clothing grey so we could have them for school. We heard the mail slot and Vernon said "Get the mail, Dudley," he said, "Make Harry get it." Vernon said, "Get the mail, Harry." Harry said, "Make Dudley get it." Vernon said, "Poke him with your Smelting stick, Dudley." Harry dodged the blow and went to get the mail. Vernon shouted "Hurry up, boy! What are you doing, checking for letter bombs?" He chuckled at his own joke. Harry came back in, handed Uncle Vernon the bill and the postcard, sat down, handed me a letter, and slowly began to open his. I looked at the front and in emerald, green ink was written:

Ms. A. Potter
The Cupboard under the Stairs 4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging, Surrey 

I opened the envelope silently as Vernon said "Marge's ill, Ate a funny whelk..." As I was unfolding the paper and I read 'Dear Avacyn Potter, we are pleased to inform you that...' Dudley screamed "Dad! Dad, the twins got something!" I read '... you have a place at...' the letter was ripped from my hands by Vernon. Harry said, "Those are ours!" Vernon said "Who'd be writing to you?" shaking the letter open with one hand and glancing at it. His face went from red to green faster than a set of traffic lights. And it didn't stop there. Within seconds it was the grayish white of old porridge. He gasped out "P-P-Petunia!" Dudley tried to grab the letter but Vernon held it high for Petunia only to reach. She read it and looked like she might faint. She said "Vernon! Oh my goodness... Vernon!" They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten that Harry, Dudley, and I were still in the room. Dudley wasn't used to being ignored. He gave his father a sharp tap on the head with his Smelting stick and said "I want to read that letter," Harry and I said, "We want to read it, as it's ours." Vernon yelled "Get out, all of you," Harry shouted, "WE WANT OUR LETTERS!" Dudley demanded, "Let me see it!" Vernon roared "OUT!" shoved us out the door into the hall and slammed the kitchen door.

"Vernon," Aunt Petunia was saying in a quivering voice, "look at the address — how could they possibly know where they sleep? You don't think they're watching the house?" Vernon muttered out "Watching... spying... might be following us," Petunia said "But what should we do, Vernon? Should we write back? Tell them we don't want..." he said "No, No, we'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer.... Yes, that's best... we won't do anything...." she said "But..." he snapped at her "I'm not having two in the house, Petunia! Didn't we swear when we took them in we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense?" That evening when he got back from work, Uncle Vernon moved Harry and me to Dudley's second bedroom to live, instead of the cupboard. From downstairs came the sound of Dudley bawling at his mother, "I don't want them in there ... I need that room... make them get out..." Harry sighed and stretched out on the bed. Yesterday we'd have given anything to be up here. Today we'd rather be back in our cupboard with that letter than up here without it. The next morning at breakfast, everyone was rather quiet. Dudley was in shock. He'd screamed, whacked his father with his Smelting stick, been sick on purpose, kicked his mother, and thrown his tortoise through the greenhouse roof, and he still didn't have his room back. I was thinking about this time yesterday and bitterly wishing I'd opened the letter a lot faster. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia kept looking at each other darkly.

When the mail arrived, Uncle Vernon, who seemed to be trying to be nice to Harry and me, made Dudley go and get it. We heard him banging things with his Smelting stick all the way down the hall. Then he shouted, "There's another one! 'Mr. H. Potter, The Smallest Bedroom, 4 Privet Drive..." With a strangled cry, Uncle Vernon leaped from his seat and ran down the hall, Harry and I right behind him. Uncle Vernon had to wrestle Dudley to the ground to get the letter from him, which was made difficult by the fact that Harry had grabbed Uncle Vernon around the neck from behind. After a minute of confused fighting, in which everyone got hit a lot by the Smelting stick, Uncle Vernon straightened up, gasping for breath, with Harry's letter clutched in his hand. "Go to your cupboard... I mean, your bedroom," he wheezed at us. "Dudley... go... just go." I had managed to silently and discreetly sneak my letter that was left on the floor into the waistband of my skirt. We went to our room and sat on the bed, Harry said "I wish we had those letters." I nodded and laid down in bed. The repaired alarm clock rang at six o'clock the next morning. Harry turned it off quickly and dressed silently I got up and got dressed and silently followed him downstairs, we heard a scream "AAAAARRRGH!" lights clicked on upstairs and my eyes widened as I saw that Harry had stepped on our uncle's face. 

Uncle Vernon had been lying at the foot of the front door in a sleeping bag, clearly making sure that Harry didn't do exactly what he'd been trying to do. He shouted at Harry for about half an hour and then told him to go and make a cup of tea. By the time he got back, the mail had arrived, right into Uncle Vernon's lap. I could see six letters addressed in green ink. Harry began "We want..." but uncle Vernon was tearing the letters into pieces. Uncle Vernon didn't go to work that day. He stayed at home and nailed up the mail slot. He said, "See, if they can't deliver them they'll just give up." Aunt Petunia said "I'm not sure that'll work, Vernon." he said "Oh, these people's minds work in strange ways, Petunia, they're not like you and me," On Friday, no less than twelve letters arrived for us. As they couldn't go through the mail slot they had been pushed under the door, slotted through the sides, and a few even forced through the small window in the downstairs bathroom. Uncle Vernon stayed at home again. After burning all the letters, he got out a hammer and nails and boarded up the cracks around the front and back doors so no one could go out. He hummed "Tiptoe Through the Tulips" as he worked, and jumped at small noises.

On Saturday, things began to get out of hand. Twenty-four letters to us found their way into the house, rolled up and hidden inside each of the two dozen eggs that our very confused milkman had handed Aunt Petunia through the living room window. While Uncle Vernon made furious telephone calls to the post office and the dairy trying to find someone to complain to, Aunt Petunia shredded the letters in her food processor. Dudley said, "Who on earth wants to talk to you two this badly?" I shrugged.