A Trio of Serpents

1: The Letter from Someone

I wasn't going to post this today, but then I thought, "Eff that. Let's do this."

Summary: Harry gets his letter.

Ever since he first arrived at Privet Drive, Harry Potter had known he was different. Strange things would happen when his emotions spiked, such as the time he somehow ended up on the roof of the school. Even before that, though, his aunt and uncle made it clear he was a burden and that he was lucky they hadn't thrown him in a river never to be found again.

His cousin was just as terrible, having been raised to be like his father, although that was apparently something to be proud of if the gushing and cooing were anything to go by.

At the moment, Harry was sitting in his room. Well, room was probably the wrong word to use; he was in sitting in his cupboard. He supposed he was lucky enough to have even that, although that didn't stop him from envying his cousin Dudley's extra room.

He had just come back from a disastrous trip to the zoo for Dudley's birthday, in which the glass that separated the guests from the boa constrictor had disappeared. He swore he didn't know how it happened, but his uncle didn't believe him as usual.

He's going to regret it, he thought darkly. One of these days, they'll pay.

And if he had nothing to do with it, all the better because he wouldn't be blamed. He had enough of that to last several lifetimes.

One morning, as his Aunt Petunia was dyeing Dudley's old clothes gray for Harry's uniform, the mail arrived.

"Get the post, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon.

"Make Harry get it."

"Get the post, Harry."

Considering he actually used his name for once, Harry did without protest.

And almost at once had to stop his jaw from dropping. One of the envelopes was addressed to him.

Mr H. Potter
The Cupboard under the Stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey

They even knew where he slept for some reason. Quickly, he stuffed the envelope in his shirt, which was big enough to hide just about anything, and handed Uncle Vernon the rest.

"Marge's ill," he remarked. "Ate a funny whelk..."

"Oh," said Aunt Petunia, looking sympathetic.

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Aunt Marge would be fine before long and come by for a visit like her usual irritating self.

He went back to his cupboard and pulled out his letter.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

was written at the top.

Witchcraft? Wizardry? Like... magic? Harry blinked and continued to read.

It was a school... for people like him... magical people. Was this why his uncle reacted so violently at the mere mention of the word magic? And bellowed in his face when he had mentioned his dream of the flying motorbike? And his aunt's derisive comments on how abnormal he was?

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall

Owl? What owl? Harry wished this McGonagall person would've written out some more instructions. Surely he wasn't the only one to be confused by the letter.

He waited until everyone was asleep before sneaking back outside. To his surprise, a handsome owl perched on the mailbox.

"Are you here for the letter?" Harry asked, feeling stupid for talking to an animal.

But the owl dipped its head.

"Okay, wait one second." Harry hurried back inside, scribbled a response, and hurried back out. "Here you go. Back to Minerva McGonagall or Albus Dumbledore."

The owl hooted and took off with Harry's response clutched in its talons.

A couple days later, he received a visitor. A hairy man, one that loomed over Harry, introduced himself as Rubeus Hagrid and told him he was to take Harry to get his supplies.

Aunt Petunia let out a shriek and dropped her plate, which thankfully only landed on the carpeted floor. "You know... How do you know?"

"What?" Hagrid boomed. "You mean to tell me you didn't tell him?"

"I got a letter the other day," Harry said as Aunt Petunia scrambled for a response. "Now, if you excuse me, I need to get my things."

"No." She tried to recollect herself. "You are not going to that school, I forbid it."

"I already sent my reply. If I don't show up, they'll notice."

Aunt Petunia looked conflicted. Then she snapped out, "Fine" and turned away.

Harry was silent for a moment. "The letter was addressed to the cupboard under the stairs."

Aunt Petunia, who had just leaned over to pick up the plate, dropped it again. "Was it?" she said in a voice straining to keep calm. "Well, I suppose you can have Dudley's old bedroom. You're getting quite big."

Harry, who had been a scrawny little boy for as long as he could remember, only said, "Sounds good to me." He turned and followed Hagrid. When he got back, he would clean up his new space. If he was going to sleep there, he may as well make it habitable.

First chapter, yes! What did you think, good start?