The Boy That Spoke Snake

The Letter (Chapter 6)

The Letter (Chapter 6)

Harry POV

After two months of living with Remus, both Percy and I finally had the chance to believe that we were actually not outcasts of society, but that we played a huge role in it as it was. Everything had started out great. We were in the most normal household we could possibly have been given, which wasn't saying much, seeing as we were all wizards, living in a house that seemed invisible to the outside world.

But, still, great. Normal, even.

The word "normal" didn't usually fit into our vocabulary, and the events that followed on Percy's birthday was proof of that – plain and simple.

And, don't get me wrong, it's never a bad thing to be handed a scholarship to one of the most top-notch schools in England, but if said school is chalk-full of wizards and wizards, (monsters too, as I later found out,) and unforeseeable danger lurking in every shadow and crevice, I find it to be a little bit out of my comfort zone. Especially since the person invited to said school is known to be a "troubled kid," with his diagnosis of ADHD and dyslexia.

I mean, what a genius! A genius that sends a dyslexic person a letter with an extremely squiggly typeface, inviting an infamous troublemaker throughout every school he's ever been to and kicked out of, to a place where he will, inevitably find himself in danger on an hourly basis. What kind of sick joke is that?

Now, before this gets overly confusing, and I go rambling on about something you know nothing about, allow me to explain.

Imagine this scene:

It's almost 8:00 am. It's August 18th. Remus is having his morning cup of tea and a rusk. I am trying and failing to bake a blue cake for my older brother for his birthday. Percy is asleep in his room upstairs, sleeping late, because he loves doing that these days.

Then, there's a shriek, a scuffle and a crash, followed by the sound of flapping wings and Percy yelling, "What the fuck!"

So, near the point of panic, I sprinted upstairs to the Sleeping Beauty's bedroom, to find him sitting on the floor, tangled in his bedsheets, his eyes wide in terror and his hair messier than usual. He wasn't looking at me as much as he was looking above me.

"Angry pillow of death!" He yelled.

"What," I asked, tilting my head to the side, a confused chuckle escaping from my lips.

"Run Harry!" he said, attempting to untangle himself, but never looking away from whatever it was above me. "Don't let it get you!"

"What are you talking about?" I looked up at the door, swung open, with an owl perched on the edge, huge eyes glaring down at me, clutching a single envelope in its talon.

I frowned and turned my gaze to Percy. He looked terrified. I chuckled again.

"It's just an owl, Percy," I said, looking up to the owl once more.

"No, that's a flying death machine," he declared, finally freeing himself from his bedsheets and sprinting out the door to hide behind me.

The owl let out a screech and Percy yelped, turned and ran down the stairs, skipping two steps at a time. I followed him, and the owl followed me. When we returned to the kitchen, the aroma of burnt cake and freshly baked pancakes hung in the air.

Remus had finished his tea and stood by the stove with his wand and a pan and pancake batter.

"Morning, Percy," Remus said, not looking up. He flipped another pancake. "Sleep well?"

"Well, I was sleeping until that flying death machine attacked me."

"Oh, well," Remus seemed unfazed. "At least you attempted to get a good night's sleep before your birthday, right?"