Chapter - 10 : The Letters and the Explosion

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By the time we were released from our punishment – which was far longer than two weeks – Harry and I had each lost about three pounds we really couldn't spare, and Dudley was once again in the spotlight. Not that he ever really left it. This time it was because he'd been accepted to Smeltings, Uncle Vernon's old private school, where the students beat each other with knobby sticks to build character. For the first time, Harry and I would be free of Dudley in school, which was a good thing. My injuries had mostly healed, but my ankle still throbbed now and then.

We entered the kitchen one morning to find Aunt Petunia stirring a huge vat of what looked like dishwater on the stove.

"What's that?" I demanded before I could stop myself, repulsed.

Aunt Petunia gave me a dark look. "I'm dying some old things grey from your uniforms. It'll look like everyone else's."

"Doubt it," I muttered as Harry brushed past me to start on breakfast.

"What was that?"

"Thank you," I hastily corrected before making my escape to the juicer, preparing the orange juice.

Uncle Vernon and Dudley seemed about as thrilled with the smell coming from the uniforms as Harry and I were when they came in. They took seats at the table and Harry hastily supplied them with scrambled eggs and sliced fruits before starting on his own plate. He and I ate in the kitchen, sneaking bites as we manned the stove, scrambling more eggs when Dudley inevitably asked for seconds.

There was a sharp snap from the front door, signaling the arrival of the mail.

"Mail's here," Aunt Petunia announced unnecessarily.

"Get the mail, Dudley."

"Make Harry get it."

"Get the mail, Harry."

"Make Dudley do it."

"Whack him with your Smelting stick Dudley."

Harry dodged a swipe from the stick as he passed the table, heading for the front door. I watched him go and then turned back to the eggs, swirling them half-heartedly in the pan. I was surprised when, moments later, Harry returned to my side and dropped a letter onto the counter next to me.

A letter addressed to me. Miss L. Potter, The Cupboard Under the Stairs, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. That was me.

I looked from it to him incredulously and noticed that Harry had his own letter clutched firmly in his hand, staring at it in awe. I snatched my own up greedily. The envelope was made of thick yellowish parchment that felt creamy in my fingers when I ran them over the green ink of the address. I flipped it over in trembling hands to see a purple wax seal holding it closed. It was a coat of arms with a lion, a snake, a badger, and an eagle around a large, ornate H.

I dimly heard Uncle Vernon say something as I slit the wax seal with a finger and tugged the actual letter free. I set the envelope aside and was about to unfold the parchment when Dudley yelled, "Dad, dad they've got something!"

In a surprising feat for someone so large, he'd managed to creep up behind us, probably because we were both so focused on the letters in our hands. He wrenched us around and snatched the letters from our hands, holding them over his head triumphantly as he waddled back towards the kitchen table.

"That's mine!" we protested in sync as Dudley proudly presented the letters to Uncle Vernon.

"Who'd be writing to you?" Uncle Vernon sneered, flipping one letter open. He froze, his face going from green to red to grey in the space of a few seconds. "P-P-Petunia!" he gasped. Dudley tried to snatch the letter from his father's hand, but Vernon held one out of his reach while passing the other to Petunia. She paled and grabbed onto the cabinet like she needed support.

"Vernon… oh my goodness Vernon!" she gasped.

They seemed to have forgotten that there were other people in the world, just staring at each other in horror. Dudley whacked his father with his Smelting stick and whined, "I want to read it!"

"Seeing as they're our letters-" I began, narrowing my eyes dangerously.

"-we want to read them," Harry finished furiously. Uncle Vernon stuffed the letters back into the envelope.

"Get out, all of you," he ordered.

"Let me see it!" Dudley protested.

"Give us our letters!" I shrieked. I felt something rise up in me and burst out. There was a hissing pop and one of the bulbs in the chandelier over the table exploded, raining down glass into the breakfast below. Aunt Petunia screamed and sagged against the wall, sliding down it weakly. Uncle Vernon looked like someone had just presented him with a dead animal.

"Out!" Uncle Vernon roared. He shot to his feet and seized Harry and Dudley by the backs of their necks, shoving them to the door. While he struggled with them I grabbed the envelope and shoved it down my shirt. Then Uncle Vernon turned back for me. I braced myself by the stove as he came at me.

"Who's writing us?" I demanded.

"No one, it was a mistake," Uncle Vernon snarled, reaching for my arm. I yanked it back, reaching behind me for something to fend him off with. I screamed as I inadvertently placed my hand down on the burner that had been used to make the bacon. It was still burning hot. I ripped my hand free and clutched it to my chest, eyes watering. Uncle Vernon took that opportunity to grab me by the hair and haul me towards the door, hurling me out into the hallway.

So much for not being injured anymore.

I smacked into Harry and we rammed into the wall. I gave a sob as my injured hand connected with the corner of a table. By the time we'd righted ourselves, Dudley had claimed the keyhole, so we were reduced to crouching on the floor listening at the gap below the door, with me still clutching my hand to my chest and trying to hold back whimpers. I was in pain, but no way was I missing out on this.

"Vernon," Aunt Petunia asked shakily. "Look at the address. How do they know where he sleeps?"

"Spying… watching the house… maybe following us," Uncle Vernon mumbled in response.

"Should we write back, tell them we don't want-?"