𓏲 . THE BOY WHO LIVED . .៹♡
                                                      CHAPTER TWO
                                 ─── THE LETTERS FROM NO ONE

The escape of the Brazilian boa constrictor earned Harry and Charlus their longest-ever punishment. By the time they were allowed out of their cupboard again, the summer holidays had started and Dudley had already broken his new cine-camera, crashed his remote-control
aeroplane and, first time on his racing bike, knocked down old Mrs Figg as she crossed Privet Drive on her crutches.

The only good thing in all of this was that classes were over. For Charlus, it was wonderful, he wouldn't have to deal with his cousin's class. Even though the holidays had started, there was no escaping Dudley's gang, who visited the house every single day.

Piers, Dennis, Malcolm and Gordon were all big and stupid, but as Dudley was the biggest and stupidest of the lot, he was the leader. The rest of them were all very happy to take the time to harass the youngest Potter, which resulted in three things: Harry had a black eye, the group of idiots had bloody noses and Charlus being once again punished. But it had been worth it.

So that Dudley's little group wouldn't bother Harry and so that Charlus wouldn't be punished, the twins began to spend as much time as possible out of the house, wandering around and thinking about the end of the holidays, where they could see a tiny ray of hope.

When September came the twins would go to secondary school. Going to secondary school would be good, because for the first time, Harry wouldn't be in Dudley's company and that would mean that Charlus wouldn't get into so many fights because of him, so the fact that the twins would go to secondary school would help.

Dudley had a place at Uncle Vernon's old school, Smeltings. Piers Polkiss was going there, too. Harry and Charlus, on the other hand, were going to Stonewall High, the local comprehensive. Dudley thought this was very funny.

"They stuff people's heads down the toilet first day at Stonewall." he told Harry. "Want to come upstairs and practise?" "No thanks." said Harry. "The poor toilet's never had anything as
horrible as your head down it - it might be sick. " Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he'd said.

One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving Harry and Charlus at Mrs Figg's. Mrs Figg wasn't as bad as usual. It turned out she'd broken her leg tripping over one of her cats and she didn't seem quite as fond of them as before. She let the both of them watch television and offered them a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she'd had it for several years.

That evening, Dudley paraded around the living-room for the family in his brand-new uniform. Smeltings boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers and flat straw hats called boaters.
They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitting each other while the teachers weren't looking. When Dudley tried to use his to hit Harry, Charlus quickly confronted him and in the end, it was Charlus who got caned by Vernon.

But it didn't stop there, the reason the oldest Potter received a cane was because he didn't care to hide his laughter as he looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers. Harry, however, did his best to hold back his laughter, but when he went to bed next to his brother, then he could laugh as much as he wanted and laughed until he fell asleep

There was a horrible smell in the kitchen next morning when Harry and Charlus went in for breakfast. It seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. They moved closer to take a look. The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in grey water

"Ew. What the fuck is this?" Charlus asked and looked in disgust at the dirty water. Petunia's lips tightened as they always did if one of them dared to ask something. "Your two new school uniforms." she replied.

Harry looked in the bowl again. "Oh." he said. "I didn't realise it had to be so wet." "Don't be stupid." snapped Aunt Petunia. " I'm dyeing some of Dudley's old things grey for you two. It'll look just like everyone else's when I've finished."

As much as they had doubts about it, neither of the twins wanted to discuss it. Next to his twin, Charlus ignored the bad smell and Petunia's disgusted face and sat next to his brother at the table. Charlus tried not to think about how he was going to look on his first day at the school, just like Harry was doing at that moment.

The peace from before was completely gone when Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses because of the smell from Harry's new uniform. Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper as usual and Dudley banged his Smeltings stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table.

Silence reigned in the place, no fights or provocations, it was just silence. Until they heard the click of the letter-box and flop of letters on the doormat. "Get the post, Dudley." said Uncle Vernon from behind his newspaper. "Make Harry get it." "Your dad told you to go." Charlus said. "Get it yourself then." Dudley said and looked at the older Potter.

"Get the post, Harry." Vernon ordered, completely ignoring the fight between Dudley and Charlus, but he put down his newspaper and looked at his son. "Poke Charlus with your Smeltings stick, Dudley."

As requested, Dudley poked Charlus with his cane, while the older Potter complained and Harry went to get the post.Four things lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister Marge, who was holidaying on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill and - two letters, one for him and one for Charlus.

Harry picked it up and stared at it, his heart twanging like a giant elastic band. No one, ever, in his whole life, had written to him and his brother had never received letters addressed to him either. Who would write? They had no friends, no other relatives - they were not members of the library, so they never even got rude notes asking for books back. Yet there it was,two etters, addressed so clearly that there could be no mistake.

                                                                      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. There was no
stamp.

Turning the envelope over, his hand trembling, 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'.

"Get out!" Charlus said, dodged the Smeltings stick of Dudley and went after his brother. Seeing his twin standing there looking at a letter, Charlus raised his eyebrows looking at him and then stopped next to him.

"Did something happen, Harry?"Charlus asked worriedly. "We've had letters." Harry said, handing him the letter addressed to his brother, which Charlus took in confusion and realized was really addressed to him.

"Hurry up, boys!" shouted Uncle Vernon from the kitchen. "What are you doing, checking for letter-bombs?" He chuckled at his own joke.

Reluctantly, the twins went back to the kitchen, Harry still staring his letter, while Charlus was ready to open it. Harry handed Uncle Vernon the bill and the postcard, sat down next to his brother and slowly began to open the yellow envelope.

Uncle Vernon ripped open the bill, snorted in disgust and flipped over the postcard. "Marge's ill,' he informed Aunt Petunia. "Ate a funny whelk ..." "Dad!" said Dudley suddenly. "Dad, Harry and Charlus have received a letter!"

Harry was on the point of unfolding his letter, which was written on the same heavy parchment as the envelope, but Vernon took it from Potter's hands, doing the same with Charlus', who "accidentally" stepped on his uncle's foot and did the same to his cousin.

"Hey, give the letters back!" said Harry, trying to snatch them back. "They're ours." Charlus added. "Who'd be writing to you?' sneered Uncle Vernon, shaking Harry's letter open with one hand and began to read it.

His eyes passed through the first lines of the letter and then his face went from red to green faster than a set of traffic lights. And it didn't stop there. Within seconds,after reading the second line, it was the greyish white of old porridge." P-Petunia! " Vernon gasped, calling for his wife.

Dudley, who had been whimpering over his crushed foot, was now trying to take one of the letters from his father's hand, but Uncle Vernon held it high out of his reach. Petunia, as soon as she came to meet her husband, took Charlus' letter full of curiosity and read the first line. For a moment it looked as though she might faint. She clutched her throat and made a choking noise,which made Charlus arch his eyebrow. "Vernon! Oh my goodness - Vernon!"

They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten that Harry,Charlus and Dudley were still in the room. Dudley wasn't used to being ignored. He gave his father a sharp tap on the head with his Smeltings stick. "I want to read that letter." he said loudly.

"I want to read it." said Harry furiously. "because one is mine and the other is Charlus'!" "Get out, three of you." croaked Uncle Vernon, stuffing the letter back inside its envelope. Harry and Charlus didn't move. "I WANT MY LETTER!" they shouted at the same time. "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. When he returned, Vernon grabbed Charlus by the scruff and threw him into the hall, as he had done before with Harry and Dudley.

Harry and Dudley promptly had a furious but silent fight over who would listen at the keyhole; Dudley won, so Harry, his glasses dangling from one ear, lay flat on his stomach to listen at the crack between door and floor.

Sitting on the floor, where he would remain after being thrown there by his uncle, Charlus kept his head down, his cheek red from the cane hurt, but he didn't care about that.

That evening when he got back from work, Uncle Vernon did something he'd never done before; he visited Harry and Charlus in their cupboard. "Where's our letters?" said Harry, the moment Uncle Vernon had squeezed through the door. "Who's writing to us? " Charlus then asked curiously.

"No one. It was addressed to you by mistake." said Uncle Vernon shortly. " I have burned the letters." "It was not a mistake." said Harry angrily. "It had our cupboard on it." Charlus added angrily as well.

"SILENCE!' yelled Uncle 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. "Um, about the closet, Harry,Charlus. Your aunt and I have been thinking ... you two are really getting a bit big for it ... we think it might be nice if you,Harry, moved into Dudley's second bedroom, and you,Charlus moved into the second guest room." "Why?" asked Harry. "Don't ask questions!" snapped his uncle. "Take this stuff upstairs, now."

The Dursleys' house had five bedrooms: one for Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, two for visitors (one of which was usually for Uncle Vernon's sister Marge), one where Dudley slept and one where Dudley kept all the toys and things that wouldn't fit into his first bedroom. It only took Harry and Charlus one trip upstairs to move everything they owned from the cupboard to the rooms.

Charlus sat down on the bed and stared around him. Nearly everything in here was new. He was happy to have the chance to have a room, even if he would miss having to share it with his brother.

From downstairs came the sound of Dudley bawling at his mother: "I don't want Harry in there ... I need that room ... make him get out ..." Exhausted by the situation, Charlus stretched out on the bed, enjoying the comfort of the soft mattress beneath him.

When morning arrived, Charlus went downstairs to make with Harry breakfast, as they always did, and were surprised when Vernon tried to appear friendly with the twins. Dudley was in shock. He'd screamed, whacked his father with his Smeltings stick, been sick on purpose, kicked his mother and thrown his tortoise through the greenhouse roof and he still didn't have his
room back.

As soon as the post arrived, Uncle Vernon, made Dudley go and get it, using the pretext that Harry had to fry the eggs and that Charlus was serving him the juice. So they heard him banging things with his Smeltings stick all the way down the hall. Then he shouted: "There's another one! Mr C. Potter, The Second Guest Room, 4 Privet Drive -"

At the table, Vernon spat out all the juice he had drunk and screamed loudly, the man jumped from his chair and ran down the hall, Harry ran after his uncle and Charlus ran after his brother. Uncle Vernon had to wrestle Dudley to the ground to get the letter from him, which was made difficult by the fact that Harry had grabbed Uncle Vernon around the neck from behind and Charlus who was digging his nails into his uncle's shin.

After a minute of confused fighting, in which everyone got hit a lot by the Smeltings stick,much to Charlus's disgust, Uncle Vernon straightened up, gasping for breath, with Charlus'
letter clutched in his hand,while hiding Harry's letter in his robes. "Go to your cupboard - I mean, your bedrooms." he wheezed at Harry and Charlus before he looked at his son. "Dudley - go - just go."

Quickly,Charlus got up from the floor, disheveled, and went to his brother, gently taking him by the arm and taking him with him to his new bedroom,which was one room away from Harry's new room. When they arrived in the room, Harry walked round and round the room while Charlus stared at him and sat on the bed, they were both thinking the same thing.

Someone knew they had moved out of their cupboard and they seemed to know they hadn't received their first letter. Surely that meant they'd try again? And this time the twins make sure they didn't fail.

"We need to get those letters." Charlus said to his brother, who nodded in agreement. "All right, so how will we get them? " He then asked his brother. "I might have an idea." Charlus said to him with a mischievous smile. He had a plan and he would carry it out the next morning with Harry.

At six o'clock the next morning, after having fixed the alarm clock, Charlus quickly turned it off. He got dressed quickly and in silence, he couldn't wake the Dursleys. Then he crept into Harry's room to wake him up. After Harry had dressed quickly and silently, they stole downstairs without turning on any of the lights.

They were going to wait for the postman on the corner of Privet Drive and get the letters for number four first. Charlus' heart hammered as they crept across the dark hall towards the front door.

When they reached the door, Harry felt that he was stepping on something large and soft, which then let out a scream beneath him, making Harry jump in fright. The lights on the first floor were turned on and to the twins horror, they ealized that what Harry had stepped on was their uncle. Vernon was sleeping next to the front door in a sleeping bag to prevent the twins from doing what they were doing.

He shouted at Harry and Charlus for about half an hour and then told them to go and make a cup of tea. Harry and Charlus walked into the kitchen, dragging their feet and completely unhappy.

With a sigh, Harry put the water to boil on the stove, while Charlus went to get the tea from the cupboard. Charlus then picked up a cup, handing it to his brother , who thanked him with a silent wave.

When they returned to the hallway with the tea, the post had arrived, right into Uncle Vernon's lap. Harry and Charlus could see six letters addressed in green ink."We want -" Harry began, but Uncle Vernon was tearing the letters into pieces before their eyes.

Uncle Vernon didn't go to work that day. He stayed at home and nailed up the letter-box. "See." he explained to Aunt Petunia through a mouthful of nails. "if they can't deliver them they'll just give up." "I'm not sure that'll work, Vernon." "Oh, these people's minds work in strange ways, Petunia, they're not like you and me." said Uncle Vernon, trying to knock in a nail with the piece of fruit cake Aunt Petunia had just brought him.

On Friday twenty-four more letters arrived, twelve for Harry and twelve for Charlus. As they couldn't go through the letter-box they had been pushed under the door, slotted through the sides and a few even forced through the small window in the downstairs toilet.

Uncle Vernon stayed at home again. After burning all the letters and fighting with Charlus, who had managed to get another letter , he got out a hammer and nails and boarded up the cracks around the front and back doors so no one could go out. He hummed 'Tiptoe through the Tulips' as he worked, and jumped at small noises.

On Saturday, things began to get out of hand. Forty-four letters found their way into the house, rolled up and hidden inside each of the two dozen eggs that their very confused milkman had handed Aunt Petunia through the living-room window. While Uncle Vernon made furious telephone calls to the post office and the dairy trying to find someone to complain to, Aunt
Petunia shredded the letters in her food mixer.

At that moment, the trio of boys were sitting at the table, watching Petunia shred the letters into pieces and Vernon shouting into the phone,Charlus was curious and Harry was anxious, while Dudley looked amazed and looked at his cousins. "Who on earth wants to talk to you this badly?" Dudley asked them in amazement

On Sunday morning, Vernon looked tired and a little sick, but happy. He sat at the table with a smile on his face and looked at everyone. "No post on Sundays." he reminded them happily as he spread marmalade on his newspapers while Charlus watched him in disgust. "No damn letters today."

Something came whizzing down the kitchen chimney as he spoke and caught him sharply on the back of the head. Next moment, thirty, forty, fifty and sixty letters came pelting out of the fireplace like bullets. The Dursleys ducked, but Harry and Charlus leapt into the air
trying to catch one - "Out! OUT!"

Vernon seized Harry around the waist and grabbed one of Charlus' arms and threw them into the hall. When Aunt Petunia and Dudley had run out with their arms over their faces to trying to protect themselves , Uncle Vernon slammed the door shut. They could hear the letters still streaming into the room, bouncing off the walls and floor.

"That does it." said Uncle Vernon, trying to speak calmly but pulling great tufts out of his moustache 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 moustache missing that no one dared argue. Charlus got up from the floor and walked up the stairs. Then he took Dudley's old rucksack and put the rags he had in it.

Ten minutes later they had wrenched their way through the boarded-up doors and were in the car, speeding towards the motorway. Dudley was sniffling in the back seat; his father had hit him round the head for holding them up while he tried to pack his television, video and computer in his sports bag.

Charlus was sitting at the window, Harry laid his head on his brother's shoulder and began to stare at the view outside his brother's window. They watched the streets change as the trip took a long, long time. Even Aunt Petunia didn't dare ask where they were going. Every now and then Uncle Vernon would take a sharp turning and drive in the opposite direction for a while. "Shake 'em off ... shake 'em off." he would mutter whenever he did this.

They didn't stop to eat or drink all day, which was normal for Charlus and Harry, since the Dursleys did that to them all the time, but Dudley was crying and thirst. He had never had a day as bad as that, not even when Charlus had nearly broken his leg after Dudley had made Harry cry.

Uncle Vernon stopped at last outside a gloomy-looking hotel on the outskirts of a big city. The twins were forced to share a room with Dudley, the twins slept together, while Dudley slept in a bed almost identical to theirs, with damp sheets that smelled like the motorbike.Dudley snored but Harry and Charlus stayed awake, sitting on the windowsill, staring down at the lights
of passing cars and wondering the moon quietly.

They ate stale cornflakes and cold tinned tomatoes on toast for breakfast next day. They had just finished when the owner of the hotel came over to their table. " Excuse me, but are any of you Mr C. Potter and Mr H. Potter? I have a couple hundred of these at reception." She held up two letters so they could read the green ink address:

                                                              Mr H. Potter
                                                                   Room 17
                                                            Railview Hotel
                                                                Cokeworth

                                                                Mr C. Potter
                                                                   Room 17
                                                             Railview Hotel
                                                               Cokeworth

Harry made a grab for the letter but Uncle Vernon knocked his hand out of the way. The woman stared. "I'll take them." said Uncle Vernon, standing up quickly and following her from the dining-room.

"Wouldn't it be better just to go home, dear?" Aunt Petunia suggested timidly, hours later, but Uncle Vernon didn't seem to hear her. Exactly what he was looking for, none of them knew. He
drove them into the middle of a forest, got out, looked around, shook his head, got back in the car and off they went again. The same thing happened in the middle of a ploughed field, halfway
across a suspension bridge and at the top of a multi-storey car park.

" Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Dudley asked Aunt Petunia dully late that afternoon. Uncle Vernon had parked at the coast locked them all inside the car and disappeared. "He's always been mad, you just never realized it." said Charlus, to which Petunia glared at him, causing the ten-year-old boy to shrug his shoulders.

Then he sighed tiredly, watching the rain start and ignoring the conversation between the both Dursleys. When Charlus heard Dudley talk about a TV show on Monday, he looked at his brother, who also looked at him. Because of that disastrous situation, Charlus had forgotten that Tuesday would be his and Harrys eleventh birthday.

Uncle Vernon was back and he was smiling. He was also carrying a long, thin package and didn't answer Aunt Petunia when she asked what he'd bought. The man claimed to have found the perfect place and ordered everyone to get out of the car. It was cold outside and Uncle Vernon was pointing at what looked like a large rock way out to sea.

Perched on top of the rock was the most miserable little shack you could imagine.
One thing was certain, there was no television in there. "Storm forecast for tonight!' said Uncle Vernon gleefully, clapping his hands together. "And this gentleman's kindly agreed to lend us
his boat!" A toothless old man came ambling up to them, pointing, with a rather wicked grin, at an old rowing boat bobbing in the iron-grey water below them. "I've already got us some rations." said Uncle Vernon. "So all aboard!"

It was freezing in the boat. Icy sea spray and rain crept down their necks and a chilly wind whipped their faces. After what seemed like hours they reached the rock, where Uncle Vernon,
slipping and sliding, led the way to the broken-down house.

The inside was horrible; it smelled strongly of seaweed, the wind whistled through the gaps in the wooden walls and the fireplace was damp and empty. There were only two rooms, which obviously belonged to the Dursleys, which meant the twins slept in the cold room.

Uncle Vernon's rations turned out to be a packet of crisps each and five bananas. He tried to start a fire but the empty crisp packets just smoked and shrivelled up. "Could do with some of those letters now, eh?" he said cheerfully.

He was in a very good mood. Obviously he thought nobody stood a chance of reaching them here in a storm to deliver post. Totally unhappy, Harry agreed, just like Charlus, no crazy person would come here, just to deliver two letters to the twins, although that didn't cheer them up at all.

As night fell, the promised storm blew up around them. Spray from the high waves splattered the walls of the hut and a fierce wind rattled the filthy windows. Aunt Petunia found a few
mouldy blankets in the second room and made up a bed for Dudley on the moth-eaten sofa. She and Uncle Vernon went off to the lumpy bed next door and Harry and Charlus were left to find the softest bit of floor they could and stayed close to each other, trying to keep warm together.

The storm raged more and more ferociously as the night went on. They both weren't sleeping, they couldn't sleep, the noise bothered them a lot and as usual, the twins were awake waiting for midnight to arrive, so that Tuesday would come soon.

Fortunately,Dudley's loud snores were drowned by the low rolls of thunder that started nearmidnight. The lighted dial of Dudley's watch, which was dangling over the edge of the sofa on his fat wrist, informed the twins that in ten minutes they would turn eleven. Lying on their stomachs, the twins watched their birthday tick nearer. Harry wondered if the Dursleys would remember, wondering where the sender of the letters they were receiving now was.

When the minutes counted down, Charlus held his twin brother's hand and started counting down, alongside Harry.

Five minutes to go. Harry and Charlus heard something creak outside. They hoped the roof wasn't going to fall in, although they might be warmer if it did.

Four minutes to go. Maybe the house in Privet Drive would be so full of letters when they got back that he'd be able to steal one somehow.

Three minutes to go. Was that the sea, slapping hard on the
rock like that?

And (two minutes to go) what was that funny crunching noise? Was the rock crumbling into the sea?

One minute to go and the twins would be eleven.

Thirty seconds ... twenty ... ten - nine -Charlus even thought about waking Dudley to annoy him, but decided against it, he preferred to spend that moment with his brother.- three - two - one - When Tuesday arrived.

The twins looked at each other and said at the same time: "Happy Birthday." And before they could hug, a loud noise came. The whole hut shook and the twins sat bolt upright, staring at the door. Someone was outside, knocking to come in.

━━ AUTHORS NOTE

Hope you enjoyed the chapter!

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