"Hmph. The boy got off easy," Uncle Vernon grumbled from behind his newspaper. He had to admit, though, Harry was growing. Whether it was from finally being fed properly or just a growth spurt, the cupboard under the stairs wouldn't hold him for much longer.
They had considered moving him, but that room was where Dudley kept all his old toys. They had been afraid to even bring it up, certain Dudley would throw a fit. Now that their son had suggested it himself, they had no reason to object. They didn't even think to question his motives.
Dudley said nothing, calmly eating his sandwich. His Lawyer and Arbitrator abilities allowed him to keenly spot the unspoken desires and logical loopholes in any situation, while his natural authority subtly guided people toward his desired outcome. Giving Harry a proper bedroom was simply a logical next step.
"Boy! Hurry up with the mail!" Uncle Vernon shouted from the kitchen, noticing Harry's prolonged absence. "What are you doing out there, checking for letter bombs?" He chuckled at his own joke.
Dudley offered a polite, thin smile and continued chewing his sandwich. To be honest, British food was truly abysmal. He found himself missing some of the cuisine from that other, bizarre world. Even some of the stranger dishes were more appetizing than this dry sandwich.
Harry finally returned, a small stack of envelopes in his hand. He handed the bills and a postcard to Uncle Vernon, then placed a thick, yellowish parchment envelope on the table in front of Dudley. He clutched an identical envelope to his own chest as he sat down.
"Hmm? A letter for me?" Dudley was puzzled. Who would be writing to him?
He examined the envelope. It was made of heavy parchment, the address written in elegant, emerald-green ink. Strangely, there was no stamp.
Mr. D. Dursley
The Second Bedroom
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
He glanced over at Harry and saw that his letter was a perfect match.
Could it be from the school? It was the only logical explanation. They had just finished primary school and were due to start secondary in the autumn. This must be from their new school.
With that thought, Dudley decided not to open his just yet, wanting to finish his sandwich first.
Uncle Vernon tore open a bill, snorted in disgust, then flipped over the postcard. "Marge is sick," he announced. "Ate some bad whelks…"
He waved the postcard, intending to show it to Petunia. As he turned, he caught sight of the letter in Harry's hand and, without a second thought, snatched it away.
"That's mine!" Harry shouted, lunging for it. He had never received a letter in his entire life. This was the first one, and he had been overjoyed, but now it was gone.
"Who'd be writing to you?" Uncle Vernon sneered. "Now behave yourself, boy, or it's back in the cupboard for you." He casually tore open the letter.
Dudley frowned but held his tongue. He assumed his father would just read it and give it back.
But then, he saw his father's face change. The color drained from it so rapidly that even without his Spirit Vision, the shift was stark and alarming.
A few seconds later, he gasped. "Pe—Petunia!"
She hurried over, took the letter, and after a single glance, she looked as if she were about to faint.
"Vernon! Oh, my goodness… what are we going to do—"
They stared at each other, seemingly forgetting anyone else was in the room.
"What's going on?" Harry whispered. This was clearly not a letter from a normal secondary school.
"That's my letter! Give it back!" He jumped up, trying to snatch it, but he was too short to reach.
"Both of you, get out!" Uncle Vernon roared, his face a mask of pure fury. "OUT!" He was screaming at both of them now.
"Give me my letter!" Harry pleaded, desperate to know what it said.
"Go!"
Seeing the situation escalating, Dudley didn't hesitate. He grabbed Harry and pulled him out of the kitchen.
SLAM!
The door slammed shut behind them, leaving them in the hallway.
"What are you doing?" Harry cried, struggling against Dudley's grip. "That's my letter!"
"Don't worry," Dudley said, holding up his own envelope. "I have one, too. Let's read this one."
"Oh, right!" Harry's panic subsided slightly. He remembered Dudley had received an identical letter. Judging by his aunt and uncle's reaction, this was something far more significant than a school welcome packet.
"In here," Harry whispered, pulling Dudley into the cramped cupboard under the stairs. It was the only place they could be sure they wouldn't be disturbed.
Squeezed together in the small, dark space, their breathing was heavy with anticipation.
"Hurry up, open it," Harry urged.
Dudley wasted no time. He flipped the envelope over and saw the wax seal on the back: a shield crest with a capital 'H' surrounded by four animals—a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake.
"A peculiar crest," he noted, before breaking the seal and pulling out the letter. They both leaned in close to read.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Dursley,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Harry was utterly stunned, his mouth hanging open.
And Dudley, too, felt a profound sense of shock. This world had wizards. An actual school for them. And somehow, impossibly, he had been accepted.
Wait. Harry had received the same letter. That meant he was a wizard, too.
Dudley glanced at his cousin, who was still staring at the letter, dazed. In that single moment, all the strange, inexplicable things from their past suddenly made perfect, terrifying sense.
This was not a normal world.
This was a world of magic.
***********
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