𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝; 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡.𝐩

𝓨𝓮𝓪𝓻 3, 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 1: Owl Post

Y/N had spent eleven years in the orphanage with Mr. Brunson, friendless and downtrodden. Only two years ago, she and Harry had met, becoming friends almost instantly. Mr. Brunson had left Y/N to the Dursleys, where she stayed with them and Harry. These days, the Dursleys lived in terror of anyone finding out that they had spent most of the last two years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The most they could do, however, was to lock away their spellbooks, wands, cauldrons, and broomsticks at the start of summer break, and forbid them to talk to the neighbors.

This separation from their spellbooks had been a real problem for Harry and Y/N, because their teachers at Hogwarts had given them a lot of holiday work. One of the essays, a particularly nasty one about shrinking potions, was for their least favorite teacher, Professor Snape, who would be delighted to have an excuse to give Harry and Y/N detention for a month. They had therefore seized their chance in the first week of the holidays. While Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley had gone out into the front garden to admire Uncle Vernon's new company car (in very loud voices, so that the rest of the street would notice it too), Harry and Y/N had crept downstairs, picked the lock on the cupboard under the stairs, grabbed some of their books, and hidden them in Harry's bedroom. As long as they didn't leave spots of ink on the sheets, the Dursleys need never know that they were studying magic by night.

Harry and Y/N were particularly keen to avoid trouble with his aunt and uncle at the moment, as they were already in an especially bad mood with them, all because they'd received a telephone call from a fellow wizard one week into the school vacation.

Ron Weasley, who was one of their best friends at Hogwarts, came from a whole family of wizards. This meant that he knew a lot of things Harry and Y/N didn't, but he had never used a telephone before, nor did he have any idea how to do so. Most unluckily, it had been Uncle Vernon who had answered the call.

"Vernon Dursley speaking."

Harry and Y/N, both of whom had happened t be in the room at the time, froze as he heard Ron's voice answer.

"HELLO? HELLO? CAN YOU HEAR ME? I—WANT—TO—TALK—TO—HARRY—POTTER—AND—Y/N—BLACK!"

Ron was yelling so loudly that Uncle Vernon jumped and held the receiver a foot away from his ear, staring at it with an expression of mingled fury and alarm.

"WHO IS THIS?" he roared in the direction of the mouthpiece. "WHO ARE YOU?"

"RON—WEASLEY!" Ron bellowed back, as though he and Uncle Vernon were speaking from opposite ends of a football field. "I'M—A—FRIEND—OF—THEIRS—FROM—SCHOOL—"

Uncle Vernon's small eyes swiveled over to Harry and Y/N, both of whom were rooted to their spots.

"THERE ARE NO HARRY POTTER AND Y/N BLACK HERE!" he roared, now holding the receiver at arm's length, as though frightened it might explode. "I DON'T KNOW WHAT SCHOOL YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT! NEVER CONTACT ME AGAIN! DON'T YOU COME NEAR MY FAMILY!"

And he threw the receiver back onto the telephone as if dropping a poisonous spider.

The fight that had followed had been one of the worst ever, and Y/N hoped with all her heart that she would never have to partake in one of those fights again.

Ron obviously realized that he'd gotten them both in trouble, because he hadn't called again. Their other best friend from Hogwarts, Hermione Granger, hadn't been in touch either. Y/N and Harry both suspected that Ron had warned Hermione not to call, which was a pity, because Hermione, the cleverest witch of their year, had Muggle parents, knew perfectly well how to use a telephone, and would probably have had enough sense not to say that she went to Hogwarts.