Chapter 355: Two Letters
Chapter 355: Two Letters
Dudley stood there, dazed and lifeless, as if he had lost his soul.
Harry didn't have much energy to spare for his cousin. Instead, he turned his head to look in the direction from which the silver crow was flying.
Sherlock was walking toward Harry from the dimly lit streetlamp, his expression grave.
"What, what's going on?" Harry said, disbelieving. "Professor Forrest? Why are there Dementors here? They're attacking me!"
The silver crow flapped its wings and landed on Sherlock's shoulder, its iridescent feathers emitting a warm, comforting glow.
"I'm afraid something has gone terribly wrong, something none of us anticipated."
Sherlock frowned, then looked up to see an owl hurtling toward them like a cannonball from the night sky.
Being nearsighted, Harry's vision was naturally not as good as Sherlock's in the dark.
He had not forgotten about his cousin and, with great effort, helped the seemingly unconscious Dudley to his feet.
"And Professor, how did you know I was under attack?" Harry panted, "Your house is at least a five-minute walk from here."
Sherlock had already taken the letter from the small owl. He opened it with a serious expression and replied.
"Since the start of the summer, Dumbledore has entrusted the task of protecting you to me. Previously, Mrs. Figg, who lives on Privet Drive, and a male wizard named Mundungus Fletcher were responsible. After the task was handed over to me, Fletcher left, but Mrs. Figg still lives here; it's her home."
"The Mrs. Figg who has a bunch of cats!" Harry exclaimed, shocked. "She's a witch? When Aunt Petunia and the others went out, they made me stay at her place! She never told me any of this!"
Sherlock's frown deepened as he read the letter. Finally, he let out a derisive snort and threw the letter aside.
The parchment burst into flames mid-air, quickly turning to ash.
"Technically, she's a Squib. She couldn't tell you these things, just as the Ministry of Magic wouldn't tell you that they've designated this area as a high-surveillance zone. Otherwise, this letter wouldn't have arrived so quickly."
Sherlock's voice was cold as he spoke. He then pulled a vial of potion from his pocket and handed it to Harry, instructing him to give it to Dudley.
"Cheering Potion. It will improve his mental state, but don't give him too much—just a couple of sips."
Harry administered the potion to Dudley, still brimming with questions.
"Why were there Dementors here? Was it an order from the Ministry of Magic?"
Dudley's face visibly improved after drinking the potion. He looked at Harry and Sherlock with fear, his lips trembling, unable to utter a word.
"Get up and walk. We'll take you home and speak with your parents."
Sherlock's words were clearly directed at Dudley. The small, red-eyed boy almost ran toward his house, with Harry and Sherlock quickly following behind.
Only then did Sherlock answer Harry's earlier question.
"No matter who is in charge of the magical government, they would not send Dementors to harm you. Besides, Scrimgeour has just taken over as the new Minister of Magic, and Fudge has been demoted to an advisor in the Minister's Office. The entire Ministry of Magic is undergoing a power transition, and those people have no time for such actions."
They hadn't taken two steps forward when they saw the Dursleys. Sherlock said calmly,
"Once we get back, you'll go upstairs and pack your things immediately. I'll talk to your aunt and uncle. I expect to receive another letter soon, and when I do, I'll take you away."
Harry instantly became excited.
"Leave! That's great! Where will we go? To your place?"
"Don't think about that now. Let's talk after you've packed your things."
By the time they spoke, they had already reached the Dursleys' front door. Dudley pushed it open and shouted "Mom! Dad!" as he rushed inside. Harry and Sherlock followed.
Aunt Petunia's surprised voice echoed from inside.
"Oh, our little Dudley is back! He's never been so affectionate when calling his parents."
However, when Vernon and Petunia came out, Dudley's round, plump body, resembling a meatball, lunged at them, loudly complaining.
"He, they used that thing on me! Dad! Harry! He used it to teach me a lesson! And his professor made Harry give me some unknown potion!"
Feeling her son's trembling body, Petunia's face instantly turned pale, while Vernon's face flushed red as he grabbed a baseball bat nearby.
"I knew it! I knew it! No matter how well we treated you, you're just an ingrate! Petunia! Call the police now! What did you do to our son? What poison did you make him drink?"
Sherlock gave Harry a look, signaling for him to go upstairs.
At that moment, another owl shot through the Dursleys' window like a bullet, dropping a letter on Sherlock before flying out another window, the entire process smooth and uninterrupted.
Sherlock calmly opened the envelope right in front of Vernon's threats.
This letter was not as brief as the previous one. He read it for about twenty to thirty seconds, during which Vernon continued to threaten him half-heartedly, and Petunia didn't actually call the police.
Finally, Sherlock put the letter away without burning it, standing opposite Vernon and speaking in a cold, stern voice.
"The situation is not good, and my mood is even worse. You know I'm not Harry, and the Ministry of Magic has little control over adult wizards. So if you don't want to anger me and make me use some special means, it's best if you shut up and listen to me now."
His threat was effective. Vernon, after all, wasn't a fool. He despised and feared magic, and wizards even more so.
The three Dursleys huddled in the corner, watching in terror as Sherlock casually waved his hand, and their chairs came to life, hopping over to him and allowing him to sit down.
"Harry didn't do anything to your son. He was affected by a Dementor, which came for Harry. Your son was just caught in the middle. I gave him some Cheering Potion to improve his mood. Otherwise, we would have had to drag him back like a dead pig."
(End of Chapter)
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