Dumbledore and Harry's Adventures

Grangers and Pain

Harry, half interested in the conversation, continued to look at the soothing ice of the lemonade. "Normally?"

"There are of course exceptions, as I have found to be true whenever magic is involved. If the receiver really wants to hear from the sender, then a particularly clever owl doesn't need an address. It would also work if the owl had a deep connection with the receiver. Hedwig, for instance, is clever enough to find anyone who wants to hear from you and would likely be able to find you wherever you went." A hoot of agreement sounded from Hedwig's stand. Albus nodded towards the proud avian and continued, "of course, there are various complex spells that can be used to locate a person, and ways to prevent mail from being received. And there is Fawkes, who can find anyone, but he rarely is willing to do so even if I have reasons that I think are very valid. After the last time I insisted and he responded by setting my beard ablaze, I have learned to accept not to push him too hard." A smug trill sounded from Fawke's stand.

Harry nodded imperceptibly (moving his head being a painful activity) while staying focused on the ice. After three minutes of silence, his brain caught up with something that was said. "But... I mean... That explains why I didn't get mail while living with the Dursleys, and I guess people want their newspapers so the owls can find subscribers, but... but people knew I was at Hogwarts, so..."

Albus smiled. "Yes?"

"So... why didn't I receive fan mail at Hogwarts? Not that I wanted fan mail, I saw enough of that with Lockhart, but... why wasn't I drowning in it anyway?"

Albus chuckled. "That was a concern I had when you were about to start school. I was honestly flummoxed when you were not hit by a daily deluge. I even received letters from people asking why their letters to you couldn't be delivered. I researched the subject and came up with a guess."

Harry groaned. "Is this another one of those occasions were the answer is 'magic is weird'?"

Albus smirked. "Why would you think that?"

"I just get the feeling that whenever you are talking about guessing, you are really saying 'magic is weird, so here is my shot at an answer'"

Albus grinned. "That's... fair. So, magic is weird and here is my shot at an answer. You didn't want to receive the mail, and your mother's protection responded to your desires by thinking of fan mail as being an attack and hence blocked the delivery. Or, maybe it's because the fan mail is being sent by people who want to write to the Boy Who Lived, and you don't identify as the Boy Who Lived and therefore you confuse the magic that guides the owls. Maybe it's both or neither."

Harry sighed. "Just another way in which I am weird."

Albus shrugged. "We're all weird Harry. It's our weirdness that makes us unique individuals. I find I am much happier embracing my weirdness. I am a powerful wizard who owns a non-magical bowling alley and loves attending Star Wars conventions dressed as my favorite character, and I find great joy in that. Denying your weirdness rarely leads to happiness. In this case though, magic is the one who Is being weird, and there is little point at being annoyed at magic."

Harry shrugged silently and stared at the melting ice for another ten minutes in silence. Albus returned to reading his newspaper.

With a deep sigh, Harry picked up the envelope which had his name written in Hermione's neat handwriting. He opened the envelope, and out came several pages of parchment filled with an exceedingly small font. Harry shook his head in annoyance, winced at the throb of his headache, and began reading.

After two paragraphs, Harry frowned and began to skim through the rest of the pages. With a frustrated growl he threw the pages of the letter on top of his remaining mail, and then swept it all onto the floor.