One-shot! Ever wonder what Dumbledore was doing while the Dursleys were trying to prevent Harry from getting his Hogwarts letter?
/"The Letters From No One"/
(Originally named Kraeg001)
SUMMARY: We all remember the Dursleys' losing battle against the Hogwarts acceptance letters from Ch. 3 of PS/SS, but ever wonder exactly how the letters got there the way they did?
Early one morning in the middle of July...
For the first time in nearly ten years, Albus Dumbledore was walking down Privet Drive. It was much too early for either the sun or the people on this street to be rising for the new day, so no one would see him in his wizard's attire.
He took out his letter and placed it in the Dursley's mailbox. His heart twinged a little at the phrase "Cupboard Under The Stairs." Oh well. He had honestly hoped that Petunia Dursley would be a little more loving to her own sister's son.
With that, he disappeared in a flash.
Later in his office...//
Dumbledore opened up a private cabinet, and after inserting the code, he took out a rare device to watch other people.
Mr. and Mrs. Dursley were in the kitchen, debating over the letter and whether or not to send Harry to Hogwarts.
'Like they think shredding the letter's going to stop me,' he mused with a twinkle in his eye.
Later on, he saw the short dialogue between Harry and his uncle. So the lobster-faced bull thought that by simply giving Harry a proper room the letters would stop, did he?
'On the plus side, at least Harry finally gets his own proper room,' Dumbledore thought helpfully. 'Cognratulations, Mr. Dursley. It took you... what? Ten years? Oh well, better late than never, I suppose.'
To top it all of, that brat, Dudley, was pitching a fit. 'Serves the little oink right,' the Headmaster thought, 'Especially if he wants to get anywhere in life.'
Early the next morning...
Once again, Albus Dumbledore was walking early one morning to deliver the mail for Harry. 'Harry Potter receives his Hogwarts acceptance letter, Take Two,' he thought whimsically.
Back in his office later, the fat kid got the mail. Once again, the Dursleys refused to accept fate.
'So they want to play the hard way, do they?' Dumbledore thought with a smile on his face. 'In the words of Bugs Bunny: As you all know, this means war.' Besides, he needed something to do during his empty hours during the summer anyway.
The morning after that...
Harry actually came up with the brilliant plan of getting up early and getting the mail before anyone else did. Unfortunately, his repulsive uncle beat him to it.
From his office, Dumbledore watched Vernon Dursley stay home, nailing the mail slot shut with his wife's fruitcake. 'As stubborn as they're being,' Dumbledore thought with that big smile on his face, 'This actually gives me a good reason have a little fun...'
Dumbledore spent the whole morning finding small spaces in the Dursley's house and squeezing a dozen letters through.
Even if Harry still hadn't managed to get any of the letters, the sight of Vernon Dursley acting so jumpy and paranoid was definitely worth it. After all was done, Dumbledore took the memory of watching the beefy man humming "Tiptoe Through The Tulips," and deposited it in his Pensieve. That would definitely be worth a laugh when he needed it.
Things were finally getting out of hand. As the Dursleys tried every conceivable way to destroy the letters and prevent more from coming, Dumbledore was laughing at his desk, along with Fawkes and the portraits on the walls.
After all the laughter died down, Dumbledore also put that one in his Pensieve, in a new category titled, "The Dursleys Vs. the Hogwatrs acceptance letters."
With an Invisibility Charm on themselves, Dumbledore and Fawkes slowly glided onto the chimney of Number 4, Privet Drive. Using his trained hearing, Dumbledore could hear Mr. Dursley in the kitchen saying how there wasn't any post on Sundays.
"Au contraire, Mr. Dursley," Dumbledore declared aloud, and with help from Fawkes, the headmaster and his familiar took a gigantic bag with dozens of acceptance letters and emptied the whole thing down the fireplace.
"Christmas just came early this year, Fawksie," Dumbledore quipped to his phoenix. Fawkes happily trilled with him.
Less than fifteen minutes later, the Dursleys (plus Harry) were in their car and driving away.
"You can run, but you can't hide," Dumbledore joked, and taking his phoenix by the tail, they left to plot their next moves.
Throughout the entire day, Dumbledore would put pins on a map of Britain he posted in his office, plotting the Dursley's every move. Now, to strike at them next...
Monday, July 30th, 1991//...
Countless kilometers, letters, and failed evasions later, the Durlseys (plus Harry), found their way to a miserable-looking hut on a rock far out to sea.
Just then, Hagrid came in, looking ready to go to get Harry. "Ready to go, Professor," he said dutifully. "Got the cake and everything."
Dumbledore took a look where there words "Happy Birthday, Harry" were traced in green icing. Looking up, Dumbledore asked, "Why does it say 'Happy Bar Mitzvah, Harry?'"
Hagrid did a double take and realized that his employer was messing with him. "Very funny, Headmaster," he chuckled.
"Well, don't let the weather get you down. Good traveling, Rubeus," he said.
"See you in a day or two, sir," Hagrid said, stomping out.
Dumbledore stayed up late, watching the spy devices on his desk, his legs propped and a steaming mug of hot chocolate in his hand, just to keep himself awake. As midnight ticked ever closer, he counted down, "Three, two, one..."
A/N: Like my story "Career Advice," this was another one of those "behind-the-scenes" kinds of stories. So, what do you think?