Memory's Prisoner

Chapter 6: Drowning in Letters

"Harry, what do you think the next memory will be?"

"The day I was supposed to get my Hogwarts letter probably," Harry sighed. He had taken to lying on his back staring up into the gray fog that surrounded them between memories.

"Supposed to?" Umbridge asked, reminding the children of her presence.

"You'll see."

The fog faded and the were once again in the Dursley's house, currently in the dining room. They heard the click of the mail slot and flop of letters on the doormat.

"Get the mail, Dudley," said Vernon from behind his paper.

"Make Harry get it."

"Get the mail, Harry."

"Make Dudley get it."

"Poke him with your Smelting stick, Dudley."

Memory Harry dodged the stick and went to get the mail. Three things lay on the doormat: a postcard from Vernon's sister Marge, who was vacationing on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and a letter for Harry.

Mr. H. Potter
The Cupboard under the Stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey

The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink. Turning the envelope over, Harry saw a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H.

"Do you still live in that cupboard?" Draco snapped.

Harry shook his head. "Watch."

"Hurry up, boy!" shouted Vernon from the kitchen. "What are you doing, checking for letter bombs?"

Harry went back to the kitchen, still staring at his letter. He handed Vernon the bill and the postcard, and began to open the yellow envelope. Vernon ripped open the bill, snorted in disgust, and flipped over the postcard.

"Marge's ill," he informed Petunia. "Ate a funny whelk -"

"Dad!" said Dudley suddenly. "Dad, Harry's got something!"

Harry was unfolding his letter, which was written on the same heavy parchment as the envelope, when it was jerked sharply out of his hand by Vernon.

"That's mine!" said Harry, trying to snatch it back.

"Who'd be writing to you?" sneered Vernon, 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.

"P-P-Petunia!" he gasped.

Dudley tried to grab the letter to read it, but Vernon held it high out of his reach. Petunia took it curiously and read the first line. For a moment it looked as though she might faint. She clutched her throat and made a choking noise.

"Vernon! Oh my goodness -- Vernon!"

"I want to read that letter," Dudley said loudly.

"I want to read it," said Harry furiously, "as it's mine."

"Get out, both of you," croaked Vernon, stuffing the letter back inside its envelope.

Harry didn't move.

I WANT MY LETTER!" he shouted.

"Let me see it!" demanded Dudley.

"OUT!" roared Uncle Vernon, and he took both Harry and Dudley by the scruffs of their necks and threw them into the hall, slamming the kitchen door behind them.

That evening when he got back from work, Vernon did something he'd never done before; he visited Harry in his cupboard.

"Where's my letter?" said Harry, the moment Vernon had squeezed through the door. "Who's writing to me?"

"No one. it was addressed to you by mistake," said Vernon shortly. "I have burned it."

"He did what?!"

"SHHH."

"It was not a mistake," said Harry angrily, "it had my cupboard on it."

"SILENCE!" yelled Vernon, and a couple of spiders fell from the ceiling. He took a few deep breaths and then forced his face into a smile, which looked quite painful.

"Er - yes, Harry - about this cupboard. Your aunt and I have been thinking... you're really getting a bit big for it... we think it might be nice if you moved into Dudley's second bedroom."

"Why?" said Harry.

"Don't ask questions!" snapped his uncle. "Take this stuff upstairs, now."

Harry got more letters, now addressed to the smallest bedroom. They were pushed through doors and windows. On Saturday, they were hidden in eggs, and on Sunday, 40 letters came streaming out of the chimney, inspiring the Weasley twins to dance in the chaos of it all.

"That does it," said Vernon, trying to speak calmly but pulling great tufts out of his mustache at the same time. "I want you all back here in five minutes ready to leave. We're going away. Just pack some clothes. No arguments!"

He looked so dangerous with half his mustache missing that no one dared argue. Ten minutes later, they had wrenched their way through the boarded-up doors and were in the car, speeding toward the highway. They drove. And they drove. Even Petunia didn't dare ask where they were going. Every now and then Vernon would take a sharp turn and drive in the opposite direction for a while.

"Found the perfect place!" he said. "Come on! Everyone out!"

Vernon was pointing at what looked like a large rock way out at sea. Perched on top of the rock was the most miserable little shack you could imagine.  After what seemed like hours they reached the rock, where Vernon, slipping and sliding, led the way to the broken-down house.

Harry counted down the time until his birthday. One minute to go and he'd be eleven. Thirty seconds... twenty ... ten... nine -- maybe he'd wake Dudley up, just to annoy him -- three... two... one...

BOOM.

The whole shack shivered and Harry sat bolt upright, staring at the door. Someone was outside, knocking to come in.

BOOM.

They knocked again. Dudley jerked awake.

"Where's the cannon?" he said stupidly.

There was a crash behind them and Vernon came skidding into the room. He was holding a rifle in his hands

"Who's there?" he shouted. "I warn you -- I'm armed!"

There was a pause. Then -

SMASH!

The door was hit with such force that it swung clean off its hinges and with a deafening crash landed flat on the floor. A giant of a man was standing in the doorway. His face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard, but you could make out his eyes, glinting like black beetles under all the hair. The giant squeezed his way into the hut, stooping so that his head just brushed the ceiling. He bent down, picked up the door, and fitted it easily back into its frame. The noise of the storm outside dropped a little. He turned to look at them all.

"Hagrid!" the Gryffindors yelled as the memory faded.

"What was he doing there, Harry," Ginny asked.

"Dumbledore had Hagrid bring me my letter and take me to Diagon Alley."

"That thing brought you to Diagon Alley," Umbridge sniffed.

"Well no one else was going to," Harry shrugged.