The Letter in the Woods.
The morning light filtered through the thick trees surrounding the manor, casting dappled patterns on the overgrown garden. Harry sat at the kitchen table, his hands deftly sorting through a pile of herbs he’d gathered earlier. The monster had gone out again, leaving him alone in the quiet house.
As he worked, a soft whoosh broke the silence. A small brown owl swooped through the open kitchen window, landing gracefully on the edge of the table.
Harry blinked, staring at the bird. It hooted softly and extended a leg, where a crisp envelope was tied with a simple string. Curious, Harry untied it and inspected the letter. The parchment was thick and creamy, the ink a deep emerald green. His name was written in neat script:
Harry Potter
The House in the Woods
Harry’s brow furrowed. No one had ever sent him a letter before.
With a flick of his thumb, he broke the wax seal—a crest featuring a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a serpent—and unfolded the parchment.
Dear Mr. Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry...
Harry read the letter twice, his heart thudding in his chest. A school for magic? It sounded impossible, yet somehow, it also made sense.
He glanced at the owl, which hooted expectantly. It seemed to be waiting for a response.
“Uh… I don’t have any paper,” Harry said awkwardly. The owl tilted its head, as if unimpressed, and then fluttered onto the counter, pecking at a loose scrap of parchment.
Harry scribbled a quick reply:
I’ll come, but I don’t know how to get there. Harry Potter.
The owl took the note, gave him a disdainful look, and flew out the window.
---
In the staffroom at Hogwarts, Dumbledore held the reply letter in his hand, his expression unusually grave. Minerva McGonagall, seated across from him, looked equally concerned.
“It’s unplottable,” Dumbledore murmured, running a finger along the parchment. “The address leads to nowhere.”
“Unplottable?” McGonagall repeated sharply. “But how? He’s a child. Where could he possibly be that not even the Ministry can track him?”
Across the room, Severus Snape leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. “If Potter has been hidden in such a manner, it raises the question of who did it. And why.”
“Could it be Voldemort?” Flitwick squeaked from his seat.
Dumbledore shook his head. “If Voldemort had Harry, he wouldn’t have sent him a Hogwarts letter, nor allowed him to reply. This is something… stranger.”
Molly and Arthur Weasley entered the room, their faces pale. “Albus,” Molly began, wringing her hands. “Is it true? Harry’s letter has been found, but his location is… unknown?”
Dumbledore nodded solemnly. “The letter was addressed to a place called ‘The House in the Woods.’ Beyond that, we have no leads.”
“What of the Muggle authorities?” McGonagall asked. “Surely they’ve searched for him?”
“They have,” Arthur said. “The Dursleys reported him missing four years ago. The case went cold, and no trace of Harry has been found since.”
Snape’s dark eyes narrowed. “If Potter has been hidden for this long, it suggests an intent to keep him isolated. Someone powerful, with access to both magical and Muggle means.”
---
In a dimly lit chamber below the castle, Quirrell knelt before a cracked mirror. His hands trembled as a cold, serpentine voice hissed in his mind.
So… Potter has surfaced.
“Yes, my Lord,” Quirrell whispered.
The voice grew sharper, angrier. Four years, and no one knew where he was? How is that possible?
“I—I do not know, my Lord. It is most unusual.”
The voice fell silent for a moment, then spoke again, its tone cold and calculating. Find him. Watch for him when he arrives at Hogwarts. The boy is key to my return.
Quirrell bowed his head, his breath shaky. “Yes, my Lord.”
Harry spent the rest of the day pacing the garden, his mind spinning with questions. A school for magic. A world outside the manor.
The monster returned just as the sun was setting, its eyeless face turning toward Harry as it entered the kitchen.
“I got a letter,” Harry said, holding it up.
The monster let out a low, guttural sound, tilting its head.
“They want me to go to a school. For magic.”
The monster didn’t respond immediately. It stepped closer, its claws clicking against the stone floor, and took the letter from Harry’s hand. For a long moment, it studied the parchment, though Harry wasn’t sure how it could read without eyes.
Finally, it handed the letter back and gave a single nod.
“You’re… okay with me going?” Harry asked hesitantly.
The monster made a soft growl, almost like a sigh. It turned and lumbered toward the dark hall, leaving Harry standing alone in the kitchen.
For the first time in years, Harry felt a flicker of nervous excitement.