Chapter 4
Harry had never successfully opened one of the mysterious letters.
Not because he hadn’t tried.
He had.
Repeatedly.
The problem was Aunt Petunia seemed to possess supernatural abilities whenever a letter appeared.
The second Harry or Ivy got close—
Gone.
Vanished.
Confiscated.
Stolen.
Whatever word Harry chose, the result was always the same.
No letter.
No answers.
And increasingly suspicious adults.
⸻
“I have a plan.”
Harry immediately looked up from his toast.
“No.”
Across the table, Ivy looked offended.
“You haven’t even heard it.”
“I don’t need to.”
“You do.”
“I really don’t.”
“You do.”
Harry sighed.
Dudley watched the exchange with the fascination of someone observing animals at the zoo.
“What plan?” he asked.
Ivy lowered her voice dramatically.
“We steal the letters.”
Harry nearly choked.
Petunia froze.
Vernon lowered his newspaper.
The kitchen fell silent.
Ivy looked around.
“…Was that not a secret?”
⸻
An hour later, Harry found himself helping anyway.
Mostly because Ivy had perfected the art of dragging him into terrible ideas.
The twins crouched at the top of the stairs.
Watching.
Waiting.
Petunia moved through the hallway below.
A stack of unopened envelopes sat on the small table beside the front door.
Harry counted at least twenty.
Maybe more.
“Okay,” Ivy whispered.
“Why are you whispering?”
“It feels appropriate.”
“It doesn’t.”
She ignored him.
“As soon as Aunt Petunia leaves—”
The front doorbell rang.
Both twins jumped.
Petunia hurried forward.
Opened the door.
A postman stood outside holding another bundle of letters.
Harry watched Petunia’s eye twitch.
Then another.
The poor man looked terrified.
“More for the Potters.”
Petunia shut the door.
Directly in his face.
The twins stared.
“That was rude,” Ivy said.
“Very.”
⸻
The situation somehow became worse.
By lunchtime, letters were arriving every few minutes.
By dinner, they were arriving every few seconds.
Harry found one in a cupboard.
Ivy found one inside a cereal box.
Dudley discovered one in his shoe.
That one nearly made him cry.
Harry thought it was hilarious.
⸻
The next morning, chaos arrived.
Literally.
Harry woke to screaming.
Not unusual.
The difference was that this time everyone was screaming.
Including Vernon.
Harry sat bolt upright.
“What happened?”
The bedroom door burst open.
Ivy stood there.
Wild-haired.
Breathless.
Looking equal parts horrified and delighted.
“Harry.”
“What?”
“They’re everywhere.”
⸻
She wasn’t exaggerating.
Not even a little.
Letters covered the floor.
Letters covered the stairs.
Letters covered the furniture.
The entire house looked as though it had been attacked by very determined stationery.
Harry stared.
Dudley screamed.
Petunia looked ready to faint.
And Vernon—
Vernon looked furious.
Absolutely furious.
His face had turned an impressive shade of purple.
“No.”
The word echoed through the room.
A hundred envelopes sat around him.
“No.”
Another envelope dropped from the ceiling.
Vernon pointed at it.
“NO.”
The envelope landed anyway.
Ivy snorted.
Harry quickly pretended he hadn’t heard it.
⸻
By evening, Vernon had finally snapped.
“I’ve had enough.”
Nobody disagreed.
The house was buried in letters.
Vernon paced across the living room.
Petunia sat rigidly on the sofa.
Dudley clutched a packet of crisps.
Harry and Ivy exchanged glances.
That was usually a bad sign.
For everyone else.
“We’re leaving.”
Harry blinked.
“What?”
“We’re going away.”
“Where?”
Vernon grabbed his coat.
“Somewhere they won’t find us.”
Ivy looked around at the mountain of letters.
“That seems optimistic.”
⸻
Several miserable hours later, the family found themselves in a run-down hotel.
The next morning there were letters waiting.
So they left again.
And again.
And again.
Each location somehow had more letters than the last.
It was becoming almost impressive.
By the fourth day, Harry had stopped asking questions.
Ivy had not.
“Maybe they’re tracking us.”
“They’re letters.”
“Maybe they’re magical letters.”
Harry laughed.
Ivy grinned.
Neither of them noticed the look Petunia and Vernon exchanged.
⸻
The storm arrived that night.
Rain hammered against the windows.
Wind rattled the walls.
The sea crashed against dark rocks below.
Harry stood beside a broken window and stared outside.
The small hut swayed with every gust.
Behind him, Dudley complained.
Petunia worried.
Vernon grumbled.
And Ivy sat cross-legged on the floor.
Watching the storm.
Smiling.
Harry walked over.
“You look happy.”
“I am.”
“Why?”
She looked toward the crashing waves.
Toward the dark horizon.
Toward the world beyond Privet Drive.
Then she smiled.
The real smile.
The one Harry knew best.
The dreaming smile.
“Because something’s finally happening.”
Harry opened his mouth.
Then paused.
Because for the first time in his life—
He thought she might be right.
At that exact moment, a loud knock shook the entire hut.
Every person inside froze.
Another knock followed.
Louder.
The door shuddered.
Dudley squeaked.
Petunia went pale.
Vernon grabbed his rifle.
And Ivy slowly stood.
A grin spreading across her face.
“Now,” she whispered.
“That’s interesting.”