The Heir of Hogwarts

The Letters from No One

Harry was in the kitchen cooking breakfast for his 'family' as they were called. Harry took the spatula and evenly proportioned the eggs onto three sperate plates. Then, Harry took one piece of bacon from the pan and a mouthful of eggs and put them on his plate.

Harry carefully balanced two plates on his arm, his and his aunt's, and two in his hands, his uncle's and cousin's. He set down all four plates onto the table and went to sit when his uncle pulled the chair away from him.

"You forgot my coffee boy." Harry quietly nodded and started to head in the direction of the kitchen. "Go collect today's news first." Again, Harry nodded, this time heading towards the front door. He picked up the mail, quickly scanning over it, when something caught his eye.

Harry saw a letter that read, To: Harry Potter, The Cupboard Under The Stairs, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. Harry looked over the letter in his hand as his cousin ran down the stairs. Harry attempted to hide the letter, but it was snatched from his Cousin. "Harry's got a letter!" Dudley shouted as he ran to his parents, letter in hand.

Harry tried to grab it from Dudley, but Vernon was much closer and much more prepared than Harry. "P-Petunia." Vernon stumbled backwards, pure shock on his face. He sat down, not taking his eyes from the letter, as Petunia approached him.

"Oh, dear!" Petunia's high-pitched squeal made Harry even more curious than before.

"Mum, dad, what is that?" Dudley was trying to look at the letter, but had no success.

Vernon looked to his son as he spoke up, "Harry, Dudley, both of you leave out of here right now. Go to your room Dudley, Harry, go to the upstairs bathroom. Both of you close your doors."

Both boys, with much confusion, did as told. Half an hour later, Vernon marched up the stairs. "Harry, you will be getting Dudley's second room. Don't ask questions." Harry nodded.

A week later, the letters kept arriving. Sunday came, and Vernon seemed to be much happier than he had been. "You know what today is boy?" Vernon sounded gleeful, this was not good.

"It's Sunday Uncle Vernon." Said the small boy, looking at Vernon through his big round glasses. Harry was ready to sprint with the way Vernon looked today.

"Correct!" Vernon shouted. Is he drunk? Harry thought to himself. No, no. Uncle Vernon never drinks this early in the morning. The boy ran through multiple scenarios, none fitting the time, place, or hobbies of Vernon Dursley. "Do you know what Sunday means?" Harry shook his head. "It means no mail today!" As if on que, the family saw a letter come through the mail slot. Vernon froze, Harry as well. Petunia carefully neared the door.

"Vernon! The mail doesn't run on Sundays, yet it's here!" Petunia sounded like she wanted to cry. Vernon stomped to the door, his gleefulness now diminished. Immediately, Vernon went out to the shed and grabbed wood, a hammer, and nails. He came back in and sealed the mail slot.

Another week had passed, the letters kept arriving. Soon however, every entrance (and or exit) was blocked. Vernon even blocked the fireplace for their electric heater.

The day after all of the barricades had been put up, the boards on the chimney burst, letters flying everywhere. Vernon grabbed little luggage and rushed to the car moments later. Petunia escorted Harry to the car before going in to help Dudley pack.

Hours later, the family arrived at a doc. Vernon, Harry, Petunia, and Dudley all climbed into a row boat and left for an island. Upon arriving, their was a shack on a rock sitting in the middle of the ocean.

Who wastes wood that is miles out to make a shack in the middle of nowhere? Harry was usually logical, so this didn't make since at all.

The family headed inside the shack and went to bed. Harry, being the only one awake.

Hours passed. Harry was looking at the old broken watch that used to belong to Dudley. 11:25. Harry thought, awaiting midnight eagerly. It was July 30th and Harry Potter's 11th birthday was in 35 minutes. Harry wasn't slightly tired. He had slept in the car so that he could stay up and wait for his birthday tonight. Then, without warning, Harry passed out.