Speak Up - Female Deaf Harry Potter AU

Letters

The escape of the boa earned Hari her longest hardest punishment yet, by the time it was over, it was already the summer holidays. She'd missed the end of school, and because of that, had failed all her exams. Once as Aunt Petunia came to bring her food, she had blamed everything on Hari's mother for going off and marrying a no-good immigrant. She had ranted about how Lily should have married a proper white British man, and lived a proper life........... everything always had to be proper with the Dursleys.

The day she was let out, she was sent to get the mail. Three things lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister Marge, who was vacationing on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and — Hari stopped in her tracks, looking at the last envelope, a letter for her?

Hari stared at it, heart in her throat as she picked it up. No one, ever, in her whole life, had ever written to her. Who would? She had no friends, no other relatives — she didn't belong to the library, so she'd never even got notes asking for books back. Yet here it was, a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake:

Miss. H. Potter

The Cupboard under the Stairs

Number 4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging Surrey

The envelope, made of thick heavy yellowish parchment had no stamp. The address was written in emerald-green ink loopy cursive, unlike anything she'd ever seen before.

She turned the envelope over in her shaking hands, staring in awe at the purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H.

Handing Uncle Vernon the bill and postcard, she made her way back into the hall, unfolding he. envelope as she went. She was just starting to unfold the letter itself, made of the same heavy parchment when it was jerked sharply out of her hand. She looked up to see Uncle Vernon holding it.

Uncle Vernon sneered, shaking the letter open with one hand and glancing at it. His face went from red to green faster than a set of traffic lights. And it didn't stop there. Within seconds it was the greyish white of old porridge.

Hari tried to grab the letter to read it, but Uncle Vernon held it high out of her reach, he handed it to Aunt Petunia as she entered the hall. Aunt Petunia took it curiously and read the first line, looking for a moment as though she might faint. 

They started back into the kitchen and Hari followed them, Dudley looking up from his massive bowl of oatmeal with cream and strawberries.

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten that Hari and Dudley were still in the room. They glanced over at her nervously and then continued their conversation, ignoring both children. This didn't make Dudley very happy, he didn't like being ignored, so he poked his father with his smelting stick.

Uncle Vernon stuffed the letter back into the envelope.

Hari clasped her hands together as if praying, then extended her hand, asking for her letter.

Uncle Vernon threw Hari bodily into the hall and pushed Dudley after her, slamming the kitchen door behind them. Dudley pushed Hari aside and listened through the keyhole. 

Hari turned, leaving to go clean the laundry room, she knew she'd never get it back.

Over the next few days, many identical letters arrived at the house in a mysterious way. Try as she might, Hari never managed to get her hands on one. Finally, when the house filled up with letters from the chimney, Uncle Vernon snapped, ushered them all into the car, and drove away from the house.

It was only once it was so dark that Hari couldn't see her own hand in front of her face that they stopped outside a gloomy-looking old hotel. Vernon checked them in, two rooms, Dudley and Hari shared. It had a singular twin bed and damp mostly sheets. Dudly climbed into the bed and immediately passed out.