New Beginnings Amidst Confusion

"Who'd be writing to you? Uncle Vernon sneered at Harry, shaking Harry's letter open with one hand and glancing at it. His face went from shock, to anger, to what looked like fear and sickness very quickly.

P-P-Petunia!" he gasped.

Dudley tried to grab the letter, but Vernon held it far enough away from him. Petunia read it and looked ready to faint.

"What do they say?" I asked curiously. Though both ignored my question.

"Vernon! Oh my goodness — Vernon!" She screeched as she gasped for air. I looked at Harry, were they from child services?

The pair stared at each other, for the first time ever ignoring Dudley. He seemed very upset at this and gave his father a smack across the head with his Smelting stick.

"I want to read that letter," he said loudly.

"I want to read it," added Harry furiously, "as it's mine."

"I'm just really confused." I added.

"Get out, all of you," Uncle Vernon demanded, as he stuffed the letter back into the envelope.

As curious as I was about these letter, I was more concerned with Uncle Vernon's response if I tried. So I got up and started to leave the room. But Harry didn't move.

"I WANT MY LETTER!" he shouted at the pair.

"Let me see it!" Dudley also demanded.

"OUT!" roared Uncle Vernon, and he took both Harry and Dudley by the scruffs of their necks and threw them into the hall. I quickly followed and the door was slammed out behind us. Harry and Dudley both began to fight over the who could listen through the keyhole. I watched amused until Dudley eventually won. Harry then got down and listened via the crack between the door and floor.

Seeing as I had no where to eavesdrop, I sighed and headed off to the living room and sat down on the couch when I had the chance. After a little while the Dursley's emerged and Vernon ignored the boys and headed to work.

Harry then arrived in our cupboard and shut the door.

"UGH! They never let us have anything." He said angerly.

"Does that really surprise you?" I asked Harry with a small smirk.

"Those were our letters, and they steal them away. Refuse to let us read them." Harry then flopped onto the bed next to me, I put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Like I said, they will never like us. Whatever there hiding they will do whatever they can to keep it from us. Best you can do is try is keep your head up." I told him, he nodded. "What were they saying?" I asked curiously.

"Something about how they must be spying on us. How they wouldn't write back, how they aren't having any in there house. I don't know who they were referring to, or what they don't want in there house." He replied.

"Interesting, well. Time answers all questions." I replied, then pulled back out my book.

"Again Sarah? Really." Harry asked me teasingly.

"I like to read." I simply replied, as I once again lost myself in the fantasy world I longed for.

That night, when Uncle Vernon got home from work, for the first time ever he visited us in our "room".

"Where's are our letters?" Harry demanded the second Uncle Vernon had entered the room. "Who's writing to us?"

"No one. It was addressed to you by mistake," Uncle Vernon said quickly. "I have burned them."

"Seems likely." I added, not having looked up at the man.

"It was not a mistake," Harry said angerly, "it had our cupboard on it."

"SILENCE!" He roared in response and a couple of spiders fell from the ceiling. One landed on my book that I swiped away, then I looked up. He then took a few deep breaths and then forced a smile, which was not natural in any way.

"Er — yes, Harry — Sarah, about this cupboard. Your aunt and I have been thinking… you're both really getting to big for it… we think it might be nice if you both moved up into Dudley's second bedroom."

I looked at out Uncle in pleasant surprise, while Harry looked at him suspiciously.

"Really?" I asked.

"Why?" said Harry.

"Don't ask questions!" He snapped at us. " Both of you take this stuff upstairs, now."

I happily began to take my one load of belongings upstairs. Though I knew this was about those letters and trying to hide them from us, I at least would have the satisfaction of not falling off the bed in Harry shifted the wrong way. So as I entered the bedroom with Dudley's pile of broken toys and game, I felt a slight joy in my step. Still what were the Dursley's hiding?

Harry came up behind me, still clearly upset. Downstairs we could both hear Dudley bawling to Aunt Petunia.

"I don't want them in there… I need that room… make them get out…" I shut the door and the whining voice disappeared. I then turned to Harry.

"You okay?" I asked. He shook his head.

"A bedroom is nice and all, but who's writing us? Did they know mum and dad?" He asked. I looked at him and sighed.

"I don't know the answers, but if they really want to talk to us. They'll write again, the way the Dursley's are acting I kind of suspect it." I replied.

"I sure hope they do, I really want to know what they said."