Chapter 610: Dinner
Chapter 610: Dinner
Harry heard a knock on the door of his small bedroom.
"Harry—come out for dinner—" Aunt Petunia called out in a dry, strained voice. If it weren't for the rag stuffed in Harry's ears distorting the sound, he would have noticed the unnatural tone, and how much more polite and courteous she sounded than usual.
"Alright", Harry mumbled, biting the end of his quill while staring at the messy scribbles on the parchment. He frowned, crossing out the word 'courage' and replacing it with 'firm, unwavering belief,' then read it over and found it much smoother.
It would be better to give a few examples, Harry thought. That would make it easier to understand.
"Harry—" Her voice grew noticeably impatient.
"I'm coming!"
Harry jumped up from his chair, pulled the rag out of his ears, and hastily gathered the parchment, tucking it under Quidditch Through the Ages. Then he opened the door.
Aunt Petunia's thin, horse-like face greeted him, her long eyebrows knitted together into a tight frown.
Harry was taken aback.
Aunt Petunia rarely had a kind look for him, and he was used to it. What surprised him was that she was standing outside his bedroom door, seemingly waiting there on purpose, which he had not expected at all. After a few seconds, he realized how ungraceful his posture was—he was stretching, halfway through a yawn, rubbing his dry eyes with his right hand, and his glasses were pushed up to his forehead, his body contorted awkwardly.
Aunt Petunia's lips were tightly pressed together, and she managed a strained smile.
"We have a guest."
"Do you want me to pretend I'm not home?" Harry asked in a low voice, thinking maybe he could climb out the window and find something to eat at Sirius’s place.
"It's someone you know!" she whispered, her hands twisting together, her knuckles white.
Harry was taken aback. He was about to protest—how could that be?—but he could hear faint voices from downstairs. Who could it be? He wondered, guessing wildly. It couldn't be Mr. Bashir, could it? Did he get the job?
Harry ran down the stairs—Aunt Petunia, behind him, reached out in desperation, mouthing the words: hair... but Harry was already gone, thudding down the stairs. The voices grew clearer, one of them was Uncle Vernon, the other—
"Granger Drilling Company? Yes, I know... I worked at Neil Company for a while, just a small manager... Oh, you're a manager too? What a coincidence..."
"Professor Hepp!?" Harry exclaimed in disbelief.
He rubbed his eyes hard, suspecting he was dreaming. Professor Hepp, Uncle Vernon, and Dudley were sitting at the table, chatting amicably—by Harry's standards, as long as Uncle Vernon wasn't raging and Dudley wasn't cowering in the nearest hiding spot, it was a friendly atmosphere.
"Oh, Harry?" Felix looked over and couldn't help but laugh. "Your hair—"
Harry ran his hand through his hair, knowing from the feel of it that it was a mess. He had been too preoccupied lately to care, and now his disheveled appearance was on display for the professor. He felt embarrassed and tried to smooth it out.
"I have a comb, if you need one—"
"Yes!" Harry shouted, walking over and sitting next to Professor Hepp, watching him pull a comb from his elegant coat pocket. Harry was momentarily stunned—did the professor carry such things with him? But when he noticed the professor was handing the comb with his left hand, he grinned.
It was a secret no one else knew.
So Uncle Vernon and Dudley could only stare with identical small eyes at the emerald ring and comb in Felix's hand.
Aunt Petunia shuffled in, having to squeeze between her husband and son because there was one more person than usual—and Harry guessed none of them had the courage to sit next to Professor Hepp. She looked like a layer of spinach between two thick slices of bread.
The dinner was not lavish.
It was simple fare, especially in contrast to the ornate glass wine bottle on the table, which made it seem even more meager. Harry could see a hint of embarrassment on Aunt Petunia's face, and he was secretly amazed, wondering what magic the professor had used.
"The food seems insufficient. If you don't mind, I can cast—"
"No!" Aunt Petunia screamed, her voice shrill. Uncle Vernon's thick neck swelled, and Harry knew the professor's words had hit a nerve. The Dursleys didn't want to hear anything about magic, so he was surprised that the professor remained calm, a faint smile on his face.
"Really? But he looks quite eager", Felix said.
Harry immediately turned to look at his cousin Dudley, seeing a strong desire in his eyes. He knew the reason—Professor Hepp would not miss such an obvious hint about who was in charge of the house. Harry had seen it all before, especially the recent comic book controversy, where Aunt Petunia's tearful and earnest pleading had ended in failure.
He was just surprised that the professor had discovered the truth so quickly.
Felix snapped his fingers.
A row of gleaming golden plates descended from the air. Sausages, pastries, pies, steaks, smoked fish, salads, pumpkin juice, orange juice... the table was piled high. Harry was no stranger to this kind of food—it seemed Professor Hepp had brought the Hogwarts kitchen with him.
Aunt Petunia's eyebrows knitted even tighter, and she leaned back as far as she could, as if trying to escape from her chair. Failing that, she nervously shook her head, terrified that a neighbor might be peering through the window. Uncle Vernon panted heavily, his face visibly turning a deep purple.
Dudley glanced warily, then eagerly.
To be honest, the scene was quite striking, and if it weren't for the familiarity of it, Harry might not have been so calm. But he was hungry, and the chance to eat school food during the summer was a novel experience. He happily speared a chicken leg with his fork.
"Um, can we start eating?" Harry asked, belatedly realizing he should have waited.
"I'm the guest", Felix said subtly, his gaze sweeping over Vernon, Petunia, and finally resting on Dudley. "Guests follow the host... I'm familiar with both sides, and I think this food should suit your tastes. Harry eats this kind of food at school", he added, "unless you're on a diet."
Thud.
Dudley swallowed hard. The impact of those words was significant, Harry thought. Ever since the summer after third year, when Dudley received a warning letter from the school doctor about his weight, he had been trying to rebel against the family's diet.
"Dudley—" Petunia said sternly.
Dudley glared at her with his small eyes, his hand stubbornly reaching for the table. Vernon coughed violently, his mustache quivering, and his ham-like hand hesitated before stopping. After a few seconds, it moved again, insistently pushing the vegetarian salad, which they were supposed to eat, far away, silently expressing the owner's protest.
Vernon sighed heavily and picked up his fork. "Alright, you win. Let's eat." With that, he speared a chicken leg—Harry was already chewing on one—and viciously tore off a large piece of meat.
Dudley, with lightning speed, speared an entire steak and took a bite, juice splattering everywhere.
Petunia seemed determined not to eat a single bite. She sat in her chair, arms crossed, glaring at the air in the center of the table. Even Harry could feel her resolve. He turned to Professor Hepp, who seemed oblivious, spooning mushroom soup into his mouth.
Halfway through the meal, Dudley had completely abandoned his inhibitions. He had eaten more meat in one night than he had in the entire week, his mouth dripping with grease. He seemed to have forgotten his fear and bravely stood up to reach for the smoked fish in front of Felix.
"Is it good?" Felix asked suddenly.
Dudley, bent over, froze for a moment, then looked up and mumbled, "Yes, it's good."
"Why don't you give some to your mom?"
Dudley's fat arm hung in the air, his face staring blankly at Felix. It was as if Felix had just posed a complex riddle, and from Dudley's face, one could clearly see the series of intricate mental processes he was going through. After a brief struggle, he placed a piece of smoked fish on Petunia's clean plate.
Before he could aim for another piece, his mom burst into tears.
"R-really, Dudders..." She clung to Dudley with her thin arms, "s-such a good boy..."
Felix and Harry exchanged a look, both silently disagreeing.
But Petunia no longer refused to eat.
Harry was amazed by Professor Hepp's strategy. He seemed to have found the key: as long as he controlled his cousin's emotions, he was invincible. And it appeared that Dudley no longer felt hostile toward Professor Hepp, or at least not afraid...
The comic books had played a crucial role.
After a satisfying meal, Felix snapped his fingers again, and this time, desserts appeared. Without needing to ask, Dudley was the first to pounce. When everything was over, Felix waved his hand, and the food vanished.
"Speak up", Vernon said, picking his teeth and slumping into the sofa, his tone harsh. "What's your scheme?"
"Scheme?" Felix asked with a hint of amusement.
The room suddenly fell silent, as if everyone realized this visit would not end on a pleasant note. Harry perked up his ears, Dudley clutched a cauldron cake, and even Petunia, who had been pretending to be busy in the kitchen, making noise with bottles and jars, had appeared at the doorway.
"That's right", Vernon said gruffly. "I did some thinking during dinner. Don't think I'm easy to fool, or that I'd soften just because of a meal... I'm telling you, it won't happen! But you're smarter than that big oaf I met—"
"Hagrid is not a big oaf!" Harry shouted, enraged.
Vernon narrowed his eyes.
"Ah, I see, you want to talk about serious matters", Felix said.
"You're right!" Vernon quickly turned his head, addressing the air. "You worked at Neil Company, a big company... but I'm not bad either; I'm an excellent sales manager, and I've seen all kinds of people... if someone is plotting against my property or my house..."
"Are you crazy?" Harry yelled. "Me? Wanting your house?"
"I'm not crazy, quite the opposite", Vernon's eyes gleamed with shrewdness as he said through gritted teeth. "There were signs, weren't there? That—Voldemort, he's been caught, boy, you have no reason to stay here anymore..."
"Vernon", Petunia called from the kitchen doorway.
"Let me finish! Voldemort has been caught... we're safe, but this boy is still hanging around, Petunia, think about it, why?"
"I want to know why too!" Harry shouted.
Felix cleared his throat.
"It seems there's been a serious lack of communication. A basic understanding of the wizarding world would make it clear that your concerns are entirely unnecessary, just a delusion."
"Delusion?" Vernon's eyes widened.
"Exactly", Felix nodded, crossing his legs and waving his hand, a steaming cup of tea appearing in his palm. "My plan didn't include answering questions, but I can spare a few minutes since it's easy to explain."
Vernon, in full negotiation mode, stared intently at Felix's face. Petunia did the same.
"First, this house", he said, looking around with interest, "is protected by Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts—do you know who he is?" His gaze landed on Petunia, whose expression was stiff. "Simplified, a powerful wizard, he has placed advanced protective charms around the house, tied to family blood. Their purpose is not only to protect Harry, who is still a minor, but also to protect you from harm."
"The magical effect will last until Harry comes of age. During this time, Harry must spend a portion of each year here. A few weeks will suffice."
"Now that Voldemort has been captured, and most of his followers have been eliminated, the reason Harry remains here—well, I can only guess, as I am not the one in charge: it might be because Voldemort isn't dead, and out of caution, it's best to keep the magic in effect."
"Can he still escape?" Vernon sneered. "If he were on our side—"
"Many have escaped, even from our prisons", Felix nodded, adding. Vernon's face turned beet red.
"Wizards and Muggles—ordinary people—share some commonalities, such as emotions. However, in certain aspects—especially those involving magic—there can be significant differences. For instance, Voldemort is a particularly terrifying Dark Wizard."
"He is not like the armed bandits you might imagine, but far more dangerous. Given time, he could easily destroy London."
The Dursleys shuddered.
"You, you can't be serious—"
"No matter how strange it may seem, it is true. Several decades ago, he planned to take over the Ministry of Magic and extend his influence into the Muggle world. He and his followers took pleasure in torturing Muggles, and many of the unsolved cases you are familiar with were their doing."
"Harry's parents stood up against Voldemort. I don't know if they ever told you, but they were indeed doing the right thing. After that... both sides suffered casualties. Voldemort seemed unstoppable until he targeted the Potter family—"
"The Boy Who Lived!" Dudley suddenly said, pointing at Harry. "He killed Voldemort."
Two sharp intakes of breath.
"That's a misconception", Felix corrected. "Voldemort didn't die; he was severely injured and had to go into hiding. Another misconception is that it wasn't Harry who inflicted the wound. It was his mother, Lily, who cast a complex protective charm. In short, one life for another."
"Harry was sent to you for the reasons I mentioned earlier. Despite my lack of standing to criticize, I advise you to be a bit more considerate, especially since your time together is limited. If his admirers found out..."
"Yes, he has admirers. Quite a few, in fact."
"Once Harry comes of age, how he chooses to live is his own business, but there are a few things you need to know..."
"For instance, wizards never worry about housing. Take me, for example; with enough materials, I can build a small town in a day. And I have plans for something similar, though not right now."
The Dursleys gaped, unsure if the man before them was telling the truth.
"It's true", Harry said impatiently. "Professor once built a castle over a hundred feet tall in a very short time. It's been two years, and that building still serves as the headquarters for Future World."
"Company? Whose?" Vernon asked, sensitive to the implications.
"Mine", Felix said cheerfully.
"Aren't you a professor at that school?" Vernon quickly followed up, seeming pleased to have found a hole in the story.
"Oh, you must allow me to have side projects."
Vernon grumbled, his face full of suspicion as he pointed at Harry.
"Can this boy build houses too?"
"Harry's talents lie elsewhere. I just used that as an example. Wizards can do many things, such as building rockets. Now, let's get back to the main point. Harry has naturally active magic, which might have caused you some trouble... but he will be an outstanding warrior, like his parents. In some ways, he has already surpassed them. Voldemort's downfall is directly linked to your nephew."
...
When Harry escorted Felix to the door, he declared:
"Professor, you're wasting your time. I swear they won't change."
"You're right; some people are beyond help", Felix agreed.
"Then why—"
"I said, it's your business how you deal with your relatives. I didn't expect to change them with a few words; that's unrealistic. But at least, I don't want my visit to make things worse between you."
Harry pondered, feeling that the professor had helped, even if the professor didn't admit it.
"Oh, right, almost forgot the main reason, Harry. Where does Mr. Bashir live?"
"Nearby... why?"
"Unfortunately, he won't be returning. Something bad has happened... I've been tasked with packing up his belongings."
"He, he's dead?" Harry's eyes widened as he recalled the frail, sometimes gentle, sometimes moody old man. Despite their brief acquaintance, he had encouraged Harry to hex the Dursleys, but Harry had come to consider him a friend.
"Ha, what a brilliant guess!" Felix chuckled. "I'll pass on your 'concern' to him."
---
Essentially, the lengthy plot involving the Dursleys has concluded. They might be mentioned occasionally or appear in side stories. As Felix said, changing a person with a few words is unrealistic. He is an outsider and cannot, nor should he, make decisions for Harry.
Even scenes of near-life-and-death could not break the Dursleys' resolve, so I can't imagine a more impactful scenario. Any change will have to come from Dudley.
(End of Chapter)
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