Harry Potter and The Dark Emissary Book 1 (Male Reader)

The Letter from No One

Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling and Pokemon is owned by Nintendo

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Y/N's POV

It had been quiet for some time in the Dursley household. Ever since I had made my terms clear to them, they had kept their distance from Harry, just as I commanded. No more harsh words, no more cruelty. They had grown accustomed to ignoring him completely, pretending as if he didn't exist. It was what they feared most—being reminded of what they couldn't control.

But today, something shifted in the air. I felt it before it even happened, a ripple of magic spreading through the house, brushing against the edges of my senses like a chill wind. Something important was coming, something powerful and inevitable.

As I drifted through the shadows, I saw Vernon lumbering down the stairs, grumbling to himself as usual. Petunia hovered nearby, as stiff as ever, her sharp eyes always darting nervously, as though she could sense when something was about to go wrong.

And then it happened.

The sound of the letter falling through the slot in the door was barely noticeable, just a faint rustle of paper hitting the floor. But the magic that accompanied it was undeniable. It lingered in the air, wrapping around the house like a quiet hum, one that only I and Harry could truly feel.

I moved closer, gliding silently over the worn floorboards until I hovered just above the letter. My eyes narrowed as I took in the sight of the thick envelope, addressed in emerald-green ink:

Mr. H. Potter,
The Smallest Bedroom,
4 Privet Drive,
Little Whinging, Surrey.

A letter. For Harry.

The Dursleys hadn't noticed it yet, but I knew what would happen the moment they did. Fear would ripple through them like a wave, and their minds would scramble, desperate to keep Harry from what was rightfully his.

I drifted back into the corner of the room, watching as Vernon's heavy footfalls approached the door. His face was red as usual, his mustache twitching as he bent down to pick up the mail.

The moment his eyes fell on the letter, he froze.

For a long moment, Vernon simply stared at the envelope, the color draining from his face. He recognized the name, of course. But what shook him more was the sense of magic surrounding the letter. He didn't understand it, but he felt it—an undeniable force that sent a chill through his bones.

"Petunia!" he barked, his voice strained, almost panicked. "Come here!"

Petunia rushed over, her eyes widening when she saw the letter in Vernon's hand. She didn't speak, but the fear in her expression said everything. She knew exactly what this meant.

They stood there for a moment, both of them staring at the letter as though it might explode at any second. They didn't dare say Harry's name, but I knew they were both thinking it.

"Do we give it to him?" Vernon whispered, as though afraid the walls themselves would hear him.

Petunia shook her head quickly, her hands trembling. "No. We... we can't."

Vernon glanced around nervously, his eyes darting toward the staircase, where Harry's room was now located. He knew they were being watched. He knew I was always near, even if he couldn't see me. That fear had been drilled into them since I'd made my presence known.

But this letter—it was something they hadn't prepared for.

I floated closer, watching them with cold curiosity. They were afraid. Not just of the letter, but of what might happen if Harry saw it. They knew what I could do, but they also knew the power of the magic that bound this letter to Harry.