𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃-𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒; 𝐇𝐏 𝐱 𝐏𝐉𝐎

𝟎𝟎𝟒; sʟʏ ᴘʟᴀɴ

"Her KINDS." Euphemia smiles.

"Not biological, my family- those are
not our kinds." Sirius grins.

"Touché." Narcissa mutters.

On Sunday morning, Uncle Vernon sat down at the breakfast table looking tired and rather ill, but happy. "No post on Sundays," he reminded them happily as he spread marmalade on his news papers, "no damn letters today -" Something came whizzing down the kitchen chimney as he spoke and caught him sharply on the back of the head.

"The man only want peace-" Annabeth laughs.

Perseus smiles watching his girlfriend laughs so freely.

Next moment, thirty or forty letters came pelting out of the fireplace like bullets. The Dursleys ducked, but Hyacinth leapt into the air trying to catch one - "Out! OUT!" Uncle Vernon seized Hyacinth around the waist and threw her into the hall. When Aunt Petunia and Dudley had run out with their arms over their faces, Uncle Vernon slammed the door shut.

They could hear the letters still streaming into the room, bouncing off the walls and floor. "That does it," said Uncle Vernon, trying to speak calmly but pulling great tufts out of his moustache at the same time. "I want you all back here in five minutes, ready to leave. We're going away. Just pack some clothes. No arguments!"

"That man is mental."

"Couldn't say it better."

He looked so dangerous with half his moustache missing that no one dared argue. Ten minutes later they had wrenched their way through the boarded-up doors and were in the car, speeding towards the motorway. Dudley was sniffling in the back seat; his father had hit him round the head for holding them up while he tried to pack his television, video and computer in his sports bag.

"Is it me or I am living for their death?" Nico shrugs.

"Us too!" His friends grins.

They drove. And they drove. Even Aunt Petunia didn't dare ask where they were going. Every now and then Uncle Vernon would take a sharp turning and drive in the opposite direction for a while. "Shake 'em off ... shake 'em off," he would mutter whenever he did this.

They didn't stop to eat or drink all day. By nightfall Dudley was howling. He'd never had such a bad day in his life. He was hungry, he'd missed five television programmes he'd wanted to see and he'd never gone so long without blowing up an alien on his computer.

Uncle Vernon stopped at last outside a gloomy-looking hotel on the outskirts of a big city. Dudley and Hyacinth shared a room with twin beds and damp, musty sheets. Dudley snored but Hyacinth stayed awake, sitting on the windowsill, staring down at the lights of passing cars and wondering.

They ate stale cornflakes and cold tinned tomatoes on toast for breakfast next day. They had just finished when the owner of the hotel came over to their table.

"Scuse me, but is one of you Miss H. Potter? Only I got about an 'undred of these at the front desk." She held up a letter so they could read the green ink address:

Miss H. Potter
Room 17
Railview Hotel
Cokeworth

"Not gonna lie but I would be acting like him too-" Grover points out.

"Just give her, her Gods dam letter!" Percy sighs frustrate.

Astro nods.

Hyacinth made a grab for the letter but Uncle Vernon knocked her hand out of the way. The woman stared. "I'll take them," said Uncle Vernon, standing up quickly and following her from the dining-room.