𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐥𝐞 | h. granger

iii | a wish for change

Number 4, Privet Drive

── •✧• ──

𝐈𝐓 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄 when Harry had been punished with no meals for a week after the snake incident at the zoo. Like always when this happened, Dakota took it upon herself to sneak him as much food as she could so he wouldn't starve to death in the cupboard under the stairs.

Dakota wished that something, anything would happen to turn his – and her – life around for the better.

And one summer day, her wish was granted.

She and Harry were watching Dudley pose in his new school uniform. The two exchanged disgusted looks. It was hideous.

"Will Kody and I have to wear that, too?" Harry asked, looking up at his aunt and uncle.

"What?" Petunia frowned. She scoffed. "You two? Go to Smeltings?"

"Ha!" Vernon broke out into hysterical laughter, Petunia and Dudley chortling along.

"Don't be so stupid," Petunia said as she walked past her daughter and nephew and went into the kitchen. "You two are going to go to the state school where you belong. This is what you're going to be wearing, Harry, when I've finished dying it."

"But that's Dudley's old uniform!" Harry protested as Petunia used tongs to lift the uniform up from the bucket of dye. "It'll fit me like bits of old elephant skin."

"It'll fit you well enough," Petunia said, glaring at the boy. "Go get the post. Off with you both."

The cousins exchanged another look. Dakota sighed and followed Harry out of the kitchen. They went to the front door to collect the morning post. As Harry shuffled through the letters, two stuck out to him. One was addressed to him, and the other to Dakota. He handed it to her.

Miss D. Dursley
The upstairs bedroom, second door on the left
4, Privet Drive
Little Whinging,
Surrey

Her eyes widened. She glanced over at Harry's, which was addressed nearly the same way.

They returned to the kitchen. Harry handed Vernon the post, and he and Dakota began to open their letters.

"DAD, LOOK, HARRY AND DAKOTA HAVE LETTERS!" Dudley yelled. He snatched the letters from both of them and gave them to his dad.

"Hey, give those back!" Dakota shouted. "Those are for me and Harry!"

"For you and Harry?" Vernon asked, laughing at the very idea. "Who would be writing to you?"

He examined the letter. His amused smile fell, and he exchanged a horrified look with his wife. The both of them look at Harry and Dakota as if they were vile alien creatures from another planet.

As the week went on, more letters appeared. Vernon and Petunia were quick to get rid of them before either Harry or Dakota could get their hands on one. They were both being treated as even more of an outcast then they already were. Neither of them understood why.

What were those letters? Who were they coming from? Where were they coming from? Why didn't Petunia and Vernon want them to open them?

"Fine day, Sunday," Vernon said as they sat around the living room on Sunday morning. "In my opinion, best day of the week. Why is that, Dudley?"

Dudley shrugged.

"Cause there's no post on Sundays," Dakota mumbled, her head in her hand as she sat on the floor with a colouring book.