Harry pulled a quill from among his possessions which were packed in the corner of the smaller bedroom at Number Four Privet Drive. He pulled a piece of parchment, too, and began to scrawl across it.
I’m still here at Number Four. It’s nearly the start of seventh year and I haven’t heard from anyone since we all left school after the funeral.
How are things at the Burrow? Is Percy still being an insufferable prat?
Please write back soon. I miss you all.
See you soon!
Harry took the letter, folded it and addressed it and offered it to Hedwig. Hedwig refused it. He tried bribing her, but that had no effect. Puzzled, he took another piece of parchment from among his things and began another letter.
It was the strangest thing. I tried writing to Gin, but Hedwig refused the letter. I haven’t heard from anyone since end of term. I hope all is well.
Could you please give this letter Gin?
See you soon!
Harry took the first letter, tucked it into the second, and addressed the second letter to Ronald Weasley, The Burrow. He offered this letter to Hedwig, but she refused this one too, or rather flat out ignored it as she dozed lazily in her cage.
He thought about trying to send another letter, but decided instead to call Hermione.
He called information, unable to find Hermione’s phone number, and the operator connected him. It rang once, twice, three times, four, five, and he finally gave up, feeling like Dumbledore was still alive.
Hermione watched from afar as the phone rang once, twice, thrice, four times, five before the caller hung up. She knew it was Harry, but couldn’t bring herself to answer.
Instead, she turned back from the hallway, and went into her bedroom, stretching out once more on her bed.
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