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There is a basket on a doorstep. Innocuous, unimportant, trivial.
But it is. It is.
Singlehandedly, it ruins the lives of all the inhabitants of Number Four Privet Drive.
Because in it, lie Harry and Luna Potter.
Harry? Luna questions one morning. He is the only person she can safely question.
Yes? He responds as he snuggles closer to her, both desperate for warmth.
Do you ever wonder if other people can’t talk like we can?
Harry twists around to meet the eyes of his sister. They are brown to his green and are gleaming with curiosity.
They probably can’t.
Because it’s freaky. she scoffs before her mouth turns up. He can’t see it but he can feel it.
Like us. she declares.
Like us. he confirms.
It’s a day like any other at Privet Drive.
The neat, suburban houses with their perfectly trimmed gardens. The birds are chirping and a frantic Harry is attempting to wake his twin sister Luna. Outside, the nails of their aunt screech against the door.
Luna jerks instinctively awake, quickly slipping into the clothes Harry’s set out for her and carefully lifts her taped glasses onto her face. Harry raises an eyebrow. They’re fragile! she responds defensively,
Aunt Petunia will hit your fragile head with the frying pan if you don’t hurry up. Harry retorts. It’s not a particularly common event but it’s not exactly uncommon either.
They scramble out of the door quickly after that.
Luna?
Here.
We’re not in class, Lulu.
Whatever, Riri. What do you want?
Someone got up on the wrong side of our bed today, didn’t they?
You were hogging the sheets!
Dudley’s going to Smeltings.
Luna falls silent almost instantly and Harry is almost tempted to move away from the garden and check up on his sister but manages to resist the urge.
Lulu?!
I’m here. her voice sounds weak, trembling. We’ll be free. she continues tremulously.
Something lodges itself into Harry’s throat but he doesn’t need it to respond.
Free.
Letters, Lulu, letters. Harry is practically whistling.
Have you completely lost your mind? Luna snaps. Aunt Petunia’s beady eyes watch her, carefully cataloguing her movements as she sets out the food. She purses her lips when Luna gives Harry and herself equal portions but says nothing. If Aunt Petunia had her way, Luna would be little more than a stick.
Letters! Harry reminds.
And?
For us. He sing-songs.
Us? Luna questions wonderingly. Really?
“What are you doing boy? Checking for letter bombs?” Uncle Vernon questions, chuckling.
Hide them! Luna hisses before her mind catches up. Hide them - it would be too conspicuous to open the cupboard… Stuff them down your trousers!
No!
Have you got any better ideas because-
Done. Harry grumbles. I hate you.
No you don’t - You’d follow me to the cupboard and back but…
You’d be most displeased if I did. Harry concedes.
Luna’s plan works out - barely.
When Dudley looks like he’s getting ready for a spot of Harry Hunting before he can get to the cupboard, Luna is forced to distract him.
“Did you know I heard about Blathering Hummingbirds the other day, Dudley?”
Dudley, not having learnt from past experience is instantly drawn to Luna, immediately beginning to mock her. Harry takes this opportunity to slip away. The Dursleys might think Luna is mad but they find it annoying rather than angering.
”I’ve always known you were a loony! LOONY LUNA!”
Luna smiles serenely to disguise her triumphant beam and continues, “It seems the Wrackspurts have not left you yet. I’m beginning to worry it’s an infestation. I should check up on Harry!”
And then they’re away, they’ve escaped with the letters.
For now.
Luna still keeps watch and Harry has one hand in the pillowcase, ready.
So… We’ve either got stalkers or this is actually real. I’m leaning towards the second. Harry?
Why? Luna’s brain works best when he urges her to ramble. Harry doesn’t think she’s caught on yet.
(She has.)
Well even if we’ve got stalkers, how do they know we actually sleep in the cupboard? That it’s our room, not just a storage? Aunt Petunia is paranoid and there’s no way they wouldn’t tell anyone - not even Dudley would say and-
it can’t be them - they don’t have enough humour, even between them. Harry finishes for his sister. It is in moments like this where they feel that they are the same soul in two different bodies.
Luna smiles indulgently at him. It’s nice to be on the same wavelength as someone else. If she’d been born an only child, they are sure she would have been quite lonely.
Imagine having to live with the Dursleys alone! Luna joked once.
Harry hadn’t found it funny.
“It has to be real!” he all but shouts.
It’s quiet, like the quiet before the storm.
Luna launches herself at him snatching the envelopes and stuffing them under his shirt. She pulls him to his feet, embracing him tightly as Aunt Petunia pokes her head in.
”We saw a Nargle!” Luna lies brightly. “There was a flicker of light when we closed the door.”
Aunt Petunia sends Luna an intense glare, Harry is treated to a measured one, and leaves.
Luna waits two minutes before tugging Harry over to the bed and then stashing the letters away, as if she thinks Petunia is suddenly going to reappear. Harry doesn’t blame her.
So?
So what?
What were you saying?
Oh. If it’s real, which it probably is, it’s probably mass produced. I mean would anyone read the address and go how nice for them? Well actually - they might if they were an idiot or hated us.
So we’ve either got powerful - magical even - enemies already or magicals are a bunch of idiots.
Exactly. We’re screwed.
There’s nothing Harry can say to that so he doesn’t bother.
Or maybe they’ve automated these things… Luna offers. I don’t see why they'd bother to write them all out by hand - it’s a school, there must be at least a hundred students in our year if not more. And maybe they can warp dimensions - like a TARDIS!
It’s Harry who voices what they’re both wondering. Do you think we could…?
Maybe. Maybe.
They never responded to the first so it shouldn’t be a surprise when a second batch of letters comes in the post.
It is so they’re not quick enough.
Uncle Vernon descends upon them like an angry red freight train.
More purple, I’d say.
Don’t say that out loud.
You’re the snarky one, not me. I’m loony. Remember?
What does that make me?
Harried Harry?
Loony Luna and Harried Harry.
Harried Harry would follow Loony Luna to the cupboard and back but…
…Loony Luna would be most displeased if he did and Loony Luna would follow Harried Harry to the cupboard and back but…
Harried Harry would be most displeased if she did.
Don’t you dare open your mouth.
But-
No, it’s Vernon.
Fine.
There’s a giant of a man at the door.
Maybe in the doorframe would be more accurate. He’s lifted the door clean of its hinges with his insistent knocking and is crouched under the frame. The twins think he is stuck.
Eventually, he seems to get bored of waiting and walks straight in, damaging the entrance in the process. The giant doesn’t even flinch at the wood splinters that are undoubtedly poking him.
The twins cower near the stairs until Aunt Petunia pushes them forward ruthlessly.
Manners. They repeat to themselves. Manners.
Luna starts with a simple, neutral, “Hello.”
The giant immediately turns to look at her, his great face breaking into a toothy smile when he sees her.
”Luna and Harry!” he greets in a gruff and accented voice. “Look at yeh! The last time I saw yehs, yeh said were just babies! Yeh got your mum’s eyes Harry and Luna - yeh got your dad’s.”
He knew our parents.
I think we’re just about to make our first friend.
Isn’t he too old to be a friend?
Not on the inside.
Point.
And they sweep out of the cracked doorframe, purposefully ignoring the fallen door, into the world of magic.
He’s so big - like a giant.
Way to state the obvious, Lulu.
Do you think giants exist?
Harry has to take a moment to consider this. I don’t see why not...
Would it be terribly rude if I asked him?
Not if you ask like you usually do.
”Hagrid? Do giants exist?“
”Yes, but they don’t usually interact with Wizarding folks. Too much bad blood you see. There are a few though… my mum and dad…” Hagrid abruptly clamps his mouth shut.
”Don’t worry Hagrid.” Luna reassures.
”We won’t tell anyone.” Harry adds.
It’s not like we have anyone to tell.
Diagon Alley is big and bustling and after the little scene back at the pub, it makes Harry and Luna want to shrink into the background even more.
Luna all but whimpers, her senses being assaulted in a variety of different ways and Harry cannot stay still, squirming from one foot to another.
They come to realise that there’s an advantage to being here with Hagrid - he’s almost impossible to lose. Maybe that’s why he was sent to collect them - so they wouldn’t get lost.
Or maybe to get them and Hagrid some friends. Kill two birds with one stone and all that.
It doesn’t really matter.
They like Hagrid and they’re going to keep him - at least as much as you can keep a friend.
They like being free and aren’t hypocrites, thank you very much.
Because this world, this new world is freedom.
The first place they go is Gringotts.
Luna’s practically dancing at the poem, ditzy dissipating into charming and Harry’s trying his best to take everything in - it just feels like he’s Alice on the other side of the Looking Glass. This isn’t just an extension of their own world - it’s completely new.
Hagrid procures a key, their key and Harry tries not to laugh as Luna begins to question the goblin escorting them on the poem and its writer.
But then their vault door opens.
We have money!
Obviously.
No Lulu, we have money.
I know.
Harry spends the rest of their time at Gringotts questioning the poor goblin - asking him relentlessly about vaults.
He pauses just once, to let Hagrid and the goblin - Griphook - collect a grubby package from one of the vaults and get off and on again before returning right back to badgering the goblin.
Now who’s being annoying?
Whatever!
The goblin looks pleased when they get off. Neither of them are very surprised.
They have that effect.
Hagrid drops them off to get their robes and disappears before they can ask him anything about said robes.
Maybe he’s learnt from our encounter with Griphook.
He probably just wants a drink and doesn’t want to drink it in front of us.
”Hello, dearies!”
Luna smiles gently at the witch facing them. They don’t know how capable she is and how dangerous she could be.
The witch guides them to a pedestal, Harry stepping up first. Next to him, a blonde boy stands looking utterly bored and fed up.
Then the blonde boy catches sight of Harry who quickly throws pleading eyes at Luna.
”Aren’t you just so excited!” she gushes at him. “Magic! Magic!”
”Yes, I know.” he grumbles back, still unnerved by how well she pulls it off. He look at the boy out of the corner of his eye only to notice he is scowling and muttering, ”Mudbloods.”
“Sorry, what did you say?” Luna says cheerfully, “Oh, it’s nice to meet you! Can I shake your hand? Do they shake hands here?”
Laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you?
Shut up.
The blonde turns away scowling.
”Oh - was that rude: I’m ever so sorry...”
”It’s fine, Mudblood.”
”Mudblood? Is that a nickname? See I told you we’d make friends! Can I call you something too?”
”How daft can you be?” the boy hisses. “You’re a filthy mudblood! Don’t talk to me!”
Luna wilts like a flower and Harry regards the boy carefully. He won’t reveal all their cards yet but this boy is pushing his buttons.
”What did you just say?”
”It’s okay.” Luna says softly. “Leave it.”
Figures the first potential friend we meet that’s about our age would be like that.
He was uncannily similar to Dudley, wasn’t he?
I don’t think he’d like that comparison.
Probably not, no.
“Hello Tom. How much would it cost to stay here until the 1st of September?”
Tom the barkeeper and owner of the Leaky Cauldron looks up at them cautiously. “Why would you two want to stay here?”
Harry exchanges a look with Luna who passes him a few more galleons. He put them on the counter enticingly. Tom’s eyes flicker to the pile of galleons before he shakes himself.
”Why?”
”We don’t feel comfortable.” Luna offers.
Harry manages to contain his incredulous look. Are you actually going to tell him? He’d never believe us and you know what the Dursleys would do if they found out and-
Don’t be daft Riri. Think.
Tom sends them a slightly softer look. “Don’t feel comfortable?” he echoes.
”Everyone knows our names.”
”You are famous.”
”We’d rather no one found out where we lived.” Harry offers. Was that where you were going?
I was going to say I wanted people to get used to us or that we could get used to people looking at us all the time but this is good too.
Tom is a nice man who isn’t desperate for money but could do with some more.
Unsurprisingly, they are allowed to stay.