Chapter 2
What Harry didn’t know, was what the letter had meant by “We await your owl.” He guessed it had something to do with a reply, but he wasn’t sure why they would call that an owl. Harry hoped there wasn’t a special way that he needed to reply to the school. It was going to be hard enough to post even just a normal letter under the ever-watchful eyes of the Dursleys.
Nevertheless, Harry did write back. He nearly got caught nicking some of Aunt Petunia’s fancy stationary, and the only writing utensil he could find was a half-gnarled pencil of Dudley’s, but he figured beggars couldn’t be choosers.
Harder, even, than finding a way to reply was deciding what exactly he should say. Harry nearly drove himself barmy trying to think of what to write before he simply decided to be blunt.
Deputy Headmistress McGonagall, (or whomever else it may concern)
My name is Harry Potter. A few days ago I received a letter announcing my admittance to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I was very surprised because, until then, no one had ever given me the indication that magic was real, and definitely not that I possess the ability to use it. I would very much love to go to your school, but with the type of relatives I have, I’m not sure how I’ll manage it. They get very upset at the mention of anything abnormal or strange, so I can’t talk to them about it. Would it be possible for you to send me some more information on the magical world? Also, I feel I should mention, the Dursley’s definitely won’t pay any tuition or for any supplies or admittance fees and such and, as far as I know, my parents didn’t leave me any money. Is there any way I could attend on a scholarship or work program? Also, I’m not quite sure that they sell all of the items on your list in London.
Thank you,
Harry Potter
P.S. What exactly did you mean by, “We await your owl”?
Posting his letter was actually much easier than Harry had anticipated. Aunt Petunia sent him to the store a few days later to buy some last-minute groceries for a dinner party she was hosting the next evening for the neighbourhood women. It was an odd occurrence for her to send Harry anywhere with money, but she had to that day as she was having a problem with her fingernails and needed to have them fixed so that she would be perfectly presentable for the dinner.
Harry felt a bit like James Bond sneaking around to drop the letter in the post-box on his way home. He hadn’t dared to do it on the way there, as he was to afraid Aunt Petunia had someone watching him in an effort to make sure he didn’t steal the money she had sent with him. Harry was nervous about the fact that he had no real address other than the school name to write on his letter, but he hoped that magic would help it get to Hogwarts.
He didn’t need to wait long for a reply. In fact, the reply came the very next evening to the back shed where Harry had been exiled for the duration of his aunt’s dinner. Uncle Vernon and Dudley were dining out that night and were going to the cinema afterwards to make up for the zoo trip that Harry had ruined. This was the fourth time they had gone out using the zoo incident as an excuse. Harry wasn’t allowed dinner, but at least he had been given a late lunch (a dry hunk of cheese and some slightly stale bread) and he didn’t have to sit quietly in his cupboard while all of the neighbour ladies were there.
With the rather unorthodox night-time delivery, Harry found that he no longer needed an explanation for why the last letter had said “we await your owl.” The new letter was flown in by a large barn owl who stuck out his leg unprompted and allowed Harry to untie the letter from his foot before swiftly flying away.
Mr. Potter,
If your letter is to be believed, and you had better pray that it is for I do not well tolerate childish pranks, then you are in dire need of a very long explanation.
Unfortunately, this is not something which can be easily explained in a letter. As such, I shall be arriving at your place of residence at 9 o’clock tomorrow morning to inform you of your birth right. Do not bother to inform your aunt or uncle as I am sure that if they do not like magic then they most likely will not like the idea of a wizard calling on their home.
Sincerely,
Professor Severus Snape,
Potions Master
P.S. I am sure that you can see for yourself why the letter said, “We await your owl,” but just in case, witches and wizards use owls in much the same way that muggles (non-magical people) of old used carrier pigeons to send letters to one another.
Harry was immediately sure that Professor Severus Snape was the dark-haired man that he remembered from the ‘dream’ from a few nights ago. He was also sure that his relatives were not going to be very happy when Professor Snape showed up at their house. Harry dreaded the amount of trouble he would be in once the man left, but he knew it was pointless to try and warn the man off as the letter definitely wouldn’t make it to Hogwarts in time, especially considering that the owl had already flown off and he had no hope of catching another one.
It had been a few days since Harry had done any work in the front garden. Maybe, if Harry was lucky, he could time it so he would be outside trimming the hedges when the professor arrived the next morning, and then Harry could attempt to convince the man that he shouldn’t try to go inside.
That night while he lay in his cupboard Harry couldn’t help but imagine all of the ways his plan could go wrong the next day. He didn’t fall asleep until very late and when he did sleep Harry had terrible dreams.
** Due to his sleepless night, Harry inadvertently woke late the next morning. Harry was supposed to have breakfast completely finished by the time the Dursleys woke up at seven, but he was only just getting everything started by the time his aunt came down the stairs at 6:45.
The morning only got worse from there, as in his rush to finish before his uncle got too angry, Harry managed to scorch half the food.
“Damnit boy!” Harry’s uncle exclaimed loudly, slapping the back of Harry’s head and then shaking a threatening finger under Harry’s nose. “I’m not sure what’s got into you, but if you think you can waste food with your carelessness and get away with it, you’re wrong! We certainly can’t afford to throw out good food simply because you’re too thoughtless to remember not to burn anything! Now start over and do it right and then get in your cupboard. Three days with no food ought to make up for the breakfast you’ve wasted. Then maybe you’ll learn to pay better attention!”
Harry did his best to focus on the breakfast and not dwell on the impending arrival of Professor Snape. He knew he would be in a load of trouble if Professor Snape actually attempted to speak with the Dursley’s and Harry was trying desperately to think of a way to leave a message to head off the professor without the Dursleys finding out. Though, a part of him hoped that if the teacher did meet the Dursleys, he would see how awful they were and maybe take Harry with him when he left that day.
Unfortunately, Harry was so distracted he didn’t notice Dudley stick his Smelting Stick in his walking path while Harry was bringing his uncle his morning tea. As such, he tripped and not only scalded himself with the tea he spilled, but he also reflexively dropped the cup on the hard kitchen floor, causing a loud crash as the fine china shattered across the ground.
Harry looked up at his uncle’s quickly reddening face in dread. “I… I didn’t… it was an accident… Dudley-” Harry started, but he knew it was useless and, as he watched his uncle rise slowly from the table, he realized that he should definitely have left Dudley out of it.
His uncle’s face was an alarming shade of purple by the time he reached Harry and jerked him up by his shoulder, nearly yanking Harry completely off the ground by just his arm.
“YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE FREAK! HOW DARE YOU BREAK OUR THINGS! AS IF YOU DON’T DO ENOUGH HARM BY TAKING THE FOOD RIGHT OUT OF OUR DUDLEY’S MOUTH, NOW YOU TRY AND BLAME HIM FOR YOUR OWN MISGIVINGS?!” Vernon roared as he dragged Harry bodily down the hall to his cupboard. Once they arrived, he opened the door and then stopped to punch the boy hard directly in the face. His glasses broke and Harry was grateful he had remembered to close his eyes otherwise he could have been blinded by the shattered glass of his spectacles. As it was, Harry was lucky enough to get away with only slight scratches around his eyes from the glass as well as a busted nose. The man jerked Harry forward and back again by his protesting shoulder and Harry felt something pop excruciatingly and he knew immediately that his uncle had managed to tear or break something in his shoulder and collarbone.
“I’LL TEACH YOU YET TO RESPECT WHAT WE’VE DONE FOR YOU BOY!” Vernon continued, using his other hand to yank at the boy’s hair in order to make Harry look at him. “A LESSER FAMILY WOULD HAVE TAKEN YOU STRAIGHT TO THE ORPHANAGE, BUT NOT US. WE TOOK YOU IN WHEN NO ONE WANTED YOU, PURELY OUT OF THE GOODNESS OF OUR HEARTS, AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY US?!” His uncle finally finished his tirade and shoved Harry into the small cupboard he slept in. Vernon pushed him so hard that Harry lost his balance and fell, knocking his head against a shelf.
The last thing Harry thought of before he passed out, was that he still hadn’t found a way to keep Professor Snape from disturbing the Dursleys, and he knew that he would likely pay dearly for that when he next woke. Then again, maybe the man would save Harry like he always had in his ‘dream’ from before.