Chapter - 11 : The Letters and the New Bedroom

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"No, we won't do anything. Just ignore them, that's best… Yeah… leave them alone…"

Aunt Petunia didn't sound convinced. "But-"

"I'm not having two in the house! Didn't we swore when we took them in that we'd put a stop to that nonsense?"

Uncle Vernon's shoes came closer to the door. Harry and I wisely fled into our cupboard. In the hallway, they could hear Dudley demanding to read the letter while Uncle Vernon told him to be quiet.

"I hate Dudley," Harry muttered spitefully, glaring at the floor as he stood in darkness. I tugged on the string of the little bare bulb that lit our cupboard with my good hand and flung myself down onto the bed, digging down my shirt with the same hand.

"What're you doing?" Harry asked, confused. I lifted up the envelope triumphantly. Harry grabbed at it desperately, looking it over. "It's got our cupboard on it."

"I know," I nodded. "Someone knows where we are. Someone wants to talk to us."

Harry held out the envelope to me. "Do you recognize this coat of arms?" he asked, pointing to the seal. I shook my head helplessly.

"I've got nothing."

Without thinking, I put my hand palm-down on the sheets. Immediately I let out a whine and tugged it back, clutching my wrist in my free hand and looking at the pink skin in distaste.

"Lorena!" Harry exclaimed. He tossed the envelope onto the bed carelessly and sat down next to me on the sheets. He gingerly tugged my hand towards him.

"I'm fine," I assured him.

"No, you're not!" he disagreed. "You need some… some aloe or something…"

"Right, like they'll let me get some," I scoffed.

Harry shook his head. "Wait here," he said, and headed for the door.

"Harry!" I hissed at him. It was stupid to try something when the Dursleys were already mad. But he was already gone. Not two minutes later he came back, holding a wad of toilet paper slathered in aloe gel and a bit of gauze.

"They'll see the gauze!" I hissed at him. "Are you stupid?"

"I'm mad," he countered, green eyes flashing behind his glasses. He sat down next to me again and took my hand, laying it in his lap. He was careful as he gently wiped it with the aloe. I sighed in relief at the pleasant cooling feeling.

"Feels amazing," I moaned.

"Right," Harry said, staring at the long length of gauze he'd smuggled out. "Let's see…"

In the end he wrapped my burned fingers individually and then my palm, knotting the ends behind my hand. It looked pretty clumsy, but for a couple of ten-year-olds it was a pretty decent patch job.

"Thanks," I said softly, leaning over onto Harry's chest and tugging my hand into my stomach. "That feels way better."

"What happened?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Was stupid. Accidentally put my hand down on the stove."

"It wasn't Uncle Vernon?" he checked. I shook my head again.

"No, just me."

But that was a lie, in a way. It was Uncle Vernon. If it weren't for years of systematic abuse my immediate reaction to someone reaching for me wouldn't be to find a weapon. If he hadn't come at me like that, I wouldn't have had my hand anywhere near the stove. Yet another injury to add to the tally the Dursleys had caused.

Uncle Vernon himself turned up at our cupboard that night after he got back from work, which was definitely a first. He had to squeeze through the door, almost filling the entire cupboard with his bulk.

"Where's my letter?" Harry demanded, holding me close to his side protectively. He was still mad about my hand.

"Who's writing us?" I pressed.

"No one, it was a mistake," Uncle Vernon said sharply. "I've burned them."

"It had our cupboard on it!" Harry protested angrily. "It wasn't a mistake."

"Silence!" Uncle Vernon snapped. He flinched and plastered on a smile. It looked in all honesty like he was being tortured. "Listen about… about this cupboard. Your aunt and I talked and… you're getting too big for it so… you'll be moving into Dudley's second bedroom."

I reared back, startled. "What?"

"Just take this stuff up there now!" Uncle Vernon ordered, making his escape from the cupboard before he could anything else that might be construed as nice.

"He didn't say anything about you stealing the gauze," I noticed, staring down at my hand.

"I know," Harry agreed.

"Something's really wrong."

'This stuff' was just clothes and a few cheap toys the Dursleys had given us over the years, things like bouncy balls or broken toy soldiers. We got it all upstairs in a matter of minutes.

Dudley's second bedroom was really just storage for all the things Dudley had broken but refused to let his parents throw away. There were shelves upon shelves of broken toys and gadgets, probably enough money combined to rent a flat. It made me angry just to look at it all. One of these things was probably worth more than everything Harry and I had ever owned, combined.

I tossed my clothes onto the floor in frustration and flung myself onto the bed, pulling out the envelope from up my sleeve. It was folded and bent a little now after a whole day hidden in my clothes, but the green ink still glimmered and you could still make out most of the details on the wax seal.

"Why didn't I put them in our cupboard before I came into the dining room?" Harry bemoaned as he sat down next to me, staring at the envelope longingly.

"You didn't know," I replied absently. I tucked the envelope under the pillow of the slightly larger bed and looked around at all the shelves. I stood up and ventured closer to the one shelf holding books. They were in pristine condition. "Look on the bright side." I jerked a thumb at them. "Reading material."

Harry snorted.

()()()()()()()

The next morning Dudley was shell-shocked. Despite him pulling out all the stops and throwing the tantrum to beat all tantrums, Harry and I hadn't been made to vacate his second bedroom. It was probably the first time in his life he'd ever been refused something. I couldn't help but be a little smug as I gave him his eggs the next morning.

"I slept really well last night!" I announced. Dudley glared up at me and tried to whack me across the shins with his Smelting stick. I leapt over it lightly and sashayed back to the kitchen.

"That's nice," Uncle Vernon said, sounding as if he thought the exact opposite. But he seemed to be trying to be nicer to us, so when the mail came, he made Dudley go get it. Dudley smacked his Smelting stick into things in the hall as he made his way to the door.

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Your support not only fuels more exciting content but also gives you the chance to be part of a vibrant community of fellow fans.

(P).(A).(T).(R).(E).(O).(N)

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Join us on Patreon and unlock the full adventure today!

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