Inside the house on Privet Drive.
Harry chose to follow Su Er's advice. He brought parchment and a quill downstairs, pushed the cake on the dining table aside, and bent over his writing.
"Dear Professor Dumbledore, I'm sorry to bother you, but my scar started hurting this morning..."
"Isn't this a bit silly?" Harry suddenly looked up and asked.
"No, keep writing, Harry." Su Er shook his head. "It isn't silly. There's no shame in asking an elder for help. If Voldemort were to turn up at your door with his wand right now..."
Just as Su Er finished speaking, loud, forceful knocks suddenly came from outside.
Harry immediately looked toward the door in horror, swallowed, then looked back at Su Er.
His eyes said it all: Did you just jinx it?
Su Er: ...
"It definitely isn't Voldemort. If it were, he'd blast the door open with magic, barge in, and send you off to meet Merlin with a curse." Su Er rolled his eyes.
"I'll go see who it is. Keep writing, Harry. Write down everything you saw. Don't leave out any details."
With that, Su Er got up and headed for the door, though he still checked through the peephole to be safe.
There was no one outside. Oh, no-to be precise, there was only a figure in profile disappearing around the fence in front of the house.
Judging by his build, it was Harry's uncle, Vernon Dursley.
What was he doing here? Puzzled, Su Er opened the door. A tightly crumpled ball of paper lay on the doorstep.
What's this? Su Er picked it up curiously. A letter?
Bang. Just then, a door slammed heavily next door. Su Er shook his head, shut the door, and walked back into the living room.
"What was it?" Harry