Lost In Magic

Chapter Two

There was no shortage of letters for weeks. Piles would be delivered to the house, driving Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon mad. To make matters weirder, the house would be swarmed with owls, day and night.

Heather and Harry had been let out of their "rooms" by summer vacation. Dudley's friends were over almost everyday. Heather didn't like them at all. Her and Harry would wander around outside the house. The end of the holiday was approaching, and in turn their birthday. The twins were going to a different school than Dudley this year. He'd be going to Uncle Vernon's old private school.

Dudley got his first uniform in July. Since then, the two became inseparable, always walking around the house with it on. Dudley had been horrible this summer. Uncle Vernon had given Dudley's spare room to Heather and Harry after that first letter had came.

So many letters had come in the past weeks, Uncle Vernon declared a vacation. Her night at the hotel was miserable, Heather was forced to sleep on the floor, she had stale cornflakes for breakfast, and Dudley kept snoring.

When breakfast concluded, there was a knock at the hotel door. Uncle Vernon opened it to find the owner of the hotel.

"Is there a Mr. and Ms. H. Potter. here? I have about a hundred of these at the front."

She handed Uncle Vernon a letter that read:

Mr. H. Potter
Room 17
Railview Hotel
Cokeworth

And another an almost exact replica:

Ms. H. Potter
Room 17
Railview Hotel
Cokeworth

Uncle Vernon went red in the face. The owner had left. He turned and said:

"We're leaving."

They'd quickly gathered their things and crammed into the Dursley's car. No one knew where they were going, not even Vernon. He'd driven to the wildest of places, a forest, a plowed field, halfway across a suspension bridge, and on top of a parking garage.

"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Dudley whined clinging to his mother.

The car was parked at the coast and Uncle Vernon was out of sight. It began to rain, large droplets racing down the windows.

"It's Monday," Dudley cried, "My show is on television tonight, I want to stay somewhere with a television."

Monday. Today was Monday. Heather and Harry's birthday was tomorrow. The 31st of July, landing on a Tuesday this year.

Uncle Vernon finally came back looking very cheery, and he was holding a long, thin package.

"Found the perfect place!" He said, still smiling. "Everyone out! Come on!"

He also said that there was supposed to be a storm tonight. Heather figured he was so happy because mail wouldn't come all the way out here, especially not with a storm going on. An old man had agreed on taking them to where they were staying.

It was freezing. Mist from the sea hit her face, cold wind enveloped her, and rain crept down her neck. She could only imagine how Harry was feeling. His thin sweater would not be enough to keep him warm. Heather consciously scooted closer towards him, hoping her body heat would make him warmer.

They finally arrived at the house. It looked like it was about to fall apart. The inside was worse, seaweed smell wafted through, wind crept in via the gaps in the boards, and there were only two rooms. Uncle Vernon had said he'd bought food earlier but it turned out to be a bag of chips each and five bananas.

No success in trying to start a fire, Vernon said:

"Could do with some of those letters now, eh?"

Heather mentally rolled her eyes. *of course.*
Her uncle was obviously pleased with himself. He clearly thought no letter would reach them here. Heather was inclined to agree. Nobody in their sane mind would drop off mail to this place. That thought only darkened her mood more.

Night fell. Aunt Petunia managed to find a few dirty blankets and made a makeshift bed on the lumpy sofa for Dudley. Harry and Heather were, once again, sleeping on the floor. Heather couldn't sleep. The storm was raging harder than ever and Dudley was snoring. Harry turned his head to glance at Dudley's watch. Ten minutes until the twins turned eleven. Heather found herself wishing for her brother to be safe.

Five minutes to go. A noise outside the house alerted Heather, probably wood creaking from this insane storm, she thought. Four minutes now. She was shivering, hoping for a thicker blanket. Three minutes left. What was making that noise outside? Two minutes. A crunching noise now. Was this place safe? Probably not.
One minute till they turned eleven. Ten...nine...eight...seven...six...five...four...three...two...one-

BOOM!

The cottage shook and Harry and Heather bolted upright. It was knocking. Somebody was pounding on the door, wanting to be let in.