
Harry picked it up and stared at it, his heart twanging like a giant elastic band. No one, ever, in his whole life, had written to him. Who would? He had no friends, no other relatives — he didn’t belong to the library, so he’d never even got rude notes asking for books back. Yet here it was, a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake: Mr. H. Potter The Cupboard under the Stairs 4 Privet Drive Little Whinging Surrey The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink. There was no stamp.
#i think the greatest thing about harry is that he really grew up with no one caring about him yet the way he treats others is so generous and giving #i mean the first day he meets ron he buys him the whole cart of candy

AHA, DYING.
fbgjdybuvjyhbduvjbsdl
tears
THIS IS RELEVANT
LET ME DIE
HAHAHAHAHA OMG OMG BEST PUN EVA
ALL THE AWARDS
oh my god
Ohmygod
oh dear.








