The Owls in the Windows
. I know exactly who it is, but I still exclaim in pain, "Hey, what gives?"
"Who told you you could get up?" Uncle Vernon booms.
"We-I heard an owl outside and went to scare it off so it wouldn't bother you," I say, and deep down I know it's one of the reasons I got up. "But I found this, and I think we're being watched."
Uncle Vernon drops me, and I gasp for air. He stares at the envelope in...fear?
"Thank you, Lainey," he says. He lets us go and trembles back up the steps.
"Lainey, you've just disposed of the only mail we've ever gotten or will get," groans Harry.
"I'm trying to kiss up to his butt so we can get that second bedroom," I say. I am still staring at the magnificent owl.
Sure enough, ten minutes later he comes up to our cupboard and says to get out.
"Why?" asks Harry.
"Because. Now grab your junk and get up to that bedroom!" he says. We do not dare object and basically fly up the steps to our bedroom. A single twin bed sits in the middle.
"We'll take turns," I say generously. "I'll sleep on the floor tonight, then you sleep on the floor tomorrow."
"Okay!" Harry plops down onto the bed, smiling.
I stare out the window, loving the new glimpse of freedom. Then I hear another screech. Two owls sit perched in the window, pecking at two new letters. Without a word, Harry and I open the letters which are addressed,
The Second Bedroom
Number Four Privet Drive
Little Whinging, Surrey
My eyes widen as they scroll down the letter.
You have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please purchase the items below for your school necessities. Cats, toads, and other animals are accepted. Please note that no first-years are allowed their own broomsticks.
-Appropriately sized cauldrons
I don't bother completing the letter. My eyes are wide enough as it is. I look over to Harry, who is staring at me because he completed reading it before I did.
"Wow," he says. "Dudley really went all out on this prank."
"Yeah. I think we should act as if we never got them, it'll make him mad," I smile. Witches aren't real.
But I think the man who just opened the door downstairs may disagree.