Chapter 706: Intermission
Chapter 706: Intermission
Sure enough, the television interviews sparked heated discussions the next day.
A series of fresh reports popped out like freshly toasted bread slices from a toaster, eagerly awaiting to be slathered with butter and jam and devoured by the public. Fred and George Weasley’s private radio station came in handy again, as they picked out some interesting news items each morning after their clipping session to broadcast to "those who still retain their childlike wonder."
After reading the news article titled "Utopian Society: Progress or Regression?", Fred appealed to the audience, "Does anyone know if 'utopian' is an insult? I finished the whole piece and still don’t get it. This so-called anthropologist thinks Wizards are a bunch of freaks conducting a large-scale social experiment that aligns with their ideals. It makes me feel like I’m working for free. Listen to this: 'When material abundance reaches its peak and individual survival capabilities are at their zenith, human social structures will inevitably become more relaxed, and the concept of the state will weaken. Individuals will come together based on shared ideals…'"
Naturally, no one responded. After George read a Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes exclusive advertisement, Lee Jordan introduced the outside world, as learned from his distant relatives abroad.
"The situation is not good", he said during the latest radio show. "My cousin, who is several generations removed, sneered at my hairstyle. His family looks down on people with their noses, which makes me think that people like them would only resort to relying on poor relatives as a last resort. And I have solid information that the number of refugees—let’s call them 'travelers'—is increasing."
"I also want to remind our young listeners that if you have strangers hanging around your house and your parents insist you’re related, you should persuade them to register with the Ministry of Magic and follow local laws. Otherwise, they’ll face hefty fines and periodic Azkaban experience packages. Given that it’s already filled with Death Eaters, it’s not a good time to show off your individuality and bravery."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s voices occasionally appeared on the radio. Ron found great pleasure in broadcasting, enjoying the thrill of his voice reaching out to others, even forgetting the real reason he returned to the Burrow.
"The wedding, Ron Weasley, your brother’s wedding!" Mrs. Weasley glared at him, "I didn’t call you back to loaf around."
"Mom, I’m doing important work—they have the right to do this", Ron protested loudly.
"Yes, but you also have the right to do household chores", Mrs. Weasley said sharply. "Now go clear the garden gnomes. They’re getting bolder and might climb onto the dining table one day to demand I change the channel on the magic radio."
"This proves a point", Ron muttered, "listening to the same song too often gets old."
So Harry and Ron bent down to search for gnomes in the garden. These creatures looked like mutated potatoes, with an intelligence that matched their subterranean roots, making the task purely physical. Hermione was invited to help Ginny choose colors for gifts, ribbons, and flowers, though the flowers hadn’t arrived yet. Mrs. Weasley had assigned that task to Fred and George Weasley.
"Did you go back to the Dursleys’ house last night?" Ron asked in the garden, surprised. "Tell me more!"
"To get some things", Harry said, his mood complex. He found it hard to describe the scene of his meeting with the Dursleys, the first time he had returned since the wizarding world was exposed. He had only sent letters before, but the Dursleys were clearly unhappy about it.
This dissatisfaction had festered over time and exploded the moment he appeared. Uncle Vernon, like an obese spring, shouted and demanded to know the purpose of the Ministry of Magic casting spells in his house, complaining that he hadn’t slept well in a month. When Harry asked why he hadn’t clarified things with the Ministry of Magic staff while they were there, Uncle Vernon’s face looked like he wanted to attack.
"It’s for your protection. With these protective measures, the neighbors will remember you as the nephew who went to a boarding school", Harry paused, his face expressionless, "but they’ll subconsciously ignore my face and my name. That’s why. Basically, all students from Muggle families have received this protection."
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia exchanged a glance. This answer clearly resolved a long-standing mystery for them—why Harry had attended the Queen’s afternoon tea without any neighbors causing trouble. They genuinely hoped their neighbors were dizzy and blind, though that was unlikely, as their neighbors, like Aunt Petunia, had a natural talent for sniffing out trending topics and were willing to spend countless hours delving into the details.
Or perhaps it was because the neighbors' attention had been entirely captured by the wealthy Wizard professor leading the group? They had secretly rejoiced over this for a while.
“So… are you finally willing to come back? How long are you staying this time?” Uncle Vernon asked angrily.
“I’m not here to stay,” Harry said. “I’m here to pack up my things.” Aunt Petunia’s frying pan fell to the floor, the hard metal leaving a small dent in her beloved wooden floor. Dudley, who was on summer break, frowned, seemingly struggling with the complex question of why Harry would return only to pack his bags.
Harry could almost hear Dudley’s rusty brain creaking as it worked. He tried not to look at him. If there was one member of this family who had shown any hint of change over the past few years, it was Dudley, who seemed to have developed a slight interest in magic.
Uncle Vernon suddenly jumped up, startling everyone. He frowned and paced around the living room, occasionally giving Harry a sharp, penetrating look that made Harry wonder if he had somehow learned Legilimency.
“Is there anything else?” Harry said impatiently when their gazes met again. He made a move to leave.
“Don’t be in such a hurry. I have more questions!” Uncle Vernon said. Harry stopped and looked at him, but Uncle Vernon hesitated, his face changing colors, which Harry found oddly fascinating. Finally, just before he burst, he asked, “Is there going to be a war?”
“Vernon—” Aunt Petunia screeched.
“Don’t interrupt, Petunia,” Uncle Vernon barked. His face turned beet red.
Harry stared at him. Even after living together for eleven years and spending several summers under the same roof, he still couldn’t understand Uncle Vernon’s thought process.
“Why would you think that?”
“Why else would you suddenly decide to move out?” Uncle Vernon said, his small eyes gleaming with cunning. “You must have heard something, right? The negotiations aren’t going well, aren’t they? The papers said as much. I should have known.”
He punched his fist into his palm, looking pained.
“Boy, we are your family. You can’t just run away on your own!”
“You’re wrong. It’s not that,” Harry said stiffly.
“Then why!?”
“I’m of age,” Harry said, feeling a wave of relief. “I’m of age,” he repeated, his voice rising slightly. “So I’m moving out. You won’t have to worry about me being here and causing gossip. You’ll only have to endure an owl-delivered card on occasions like Christmas…”
There was an eerie silence in the room.
“Alright,” Uncle Vernon grumbled after a moment. “If that’s the reason—”
“Wait, you’re not of age yet,” Aunt Petunia said in a shrewd tone, the kind she used when haggling in stores. “It’s still a few days away.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Harry said.
He looked at Petunia, expecting her to say more, but her lips were tightly pressed together. Harry shrugged and went upstairs to pack his things. A short while later, he came back down with a trunk containing the remnants of his life in this house. He took one last look at the Dursleys, who were watching him with strange expressions. Harry said softly, “Goodbye,” and walked toward the door.
His hand on the doorknob, the sunlight through the window was blinding. Behind him, the sofa creaked as if a giant beast had awakened from its slumber, followed by footsteps. Harry slowly turned around to see Dudley standing there, hesitantly extending his hand.
“Are those magic books really that powerful?” Harry asked, surprised.
“I don’t know,” Dudley said softly. “Goodbye, Harry.”
“Alright.” Harry shook Dudley’s hand. “Goodbye, Dudley.”
Seeing Dudley force a smile, Harry had a sudden thought. The idea circled his mind and became increasingly tempting. He knew it would provoke a violent reaction from Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, but he couldn’t resist, half joking and half serious, he said:
“Hey, Duddy, if you can’t find a decent job in the future, you might consider selling magic items for Muggles. After all, your future kids might be Wizards. We share some of the same blood, so it’s not impossible…”
“Shut up, boy!” Uncle Vernon roared. “How dare you—” This was Aunt Petunia’s voice. Harry, with a pleasant background of their angry shouts, opened the door of Number Four, Privet Drive. The sunlight fell on his face as he turned and called out loudly, “Oh, by the way, Dudley, I left some things at the place we all know. You might like them!”
The house erupted into chaos once again as Harry closed the door and walked toward Sirius, who was waiting at the crossroads with a smile.
"Is this your farewell ceremony?" Fred and George Weasley asked, intrigued. The twins leaned against the fence, showing no intention of helping. As they put it, they had finally completed their assigned tasks and were now on a break. They had stopped by to look for Cedric and, through the fence, spotted two oddly shaped bottoms, which prompted them to investigate.
"What do you suggest?" Harry said irritably. The twins raised their hands in surrender, but the corner of the rag they were holding drooped, sending a cloud of dust into the air. Harry was forced to step back, choking, while Ron, who was less fortunate, cursed loudly.
"Be careful", Mrs. Weasley said, hearing Ron's words as she approached. She said angrily, "If I hear that again, I'll glue your mouth shut—both of you!" She placed her hands on her hips and glared at the twins. "Are the chairs all cleaned?"
"Done", Fred said, waving the rag.
Mrs. Weasley pinched her nose and took a step back, eyeing them suspiciously. "Did you manage to resist using magic? What about the flowers?"
"Taken care of. We searched the nearby woods", George sighed. The four of them watched Mrs. Weasley leave before he added quietly, "We really did search the woods until we found a flower shop in town."
Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. "How did you convince the shop owner to sell you the flowers? Do you have money?" He meant Muggle money, of course.
"Oh, the shop was run by a pretty young girl who was easy to persuade. So we decided to use our silver tongues—" Fred said.
"Eventually, we traded a bag of sweets from the joke shop for enough flowers", George added.
"What kind of sweets?" Ron asked, wide-eyed.
"Nothing dangerous, I promise", Fred said. "They're all temporarily approved. You should trust our judgment—"
"Or Percy's judgment", George added.
"Basically, we claimed we found a package left behind by a wizard, containing some Every-Flavour Beans, Floating Sherbet Balls, Voldy Sweets, Daydream Charmer Caramel Pudding, Vampire Fudge, Canary Creams, and Everlasting Gobstoppers—" Fred counted off on his fingers.
"In short, harmless, friendship-enhancing treats", George concluded.
After the twins left, Harry turned to Ron. "What are Voldy Sweets?" He had no fondness for the name.
"They're the most Muggle-like creation they've come up with, inspired by Voldemort", Ron explained. "A single bean alternates between sweet and bitter flavors. Imagine one moment your mouth is full of sweetness, and the next, it's unbearably bitter—wrapped in thirteen layers."
Harry shuddered at the thought.
On the morning of the wedding, in the orchard behind the Burrow, Felix and Bill Weasley were ostensibly assigned to check the wedding venue, but they were actually taking a stroll around the area. They saw Hagrid carrying two logs from a distance, followed by the even larger and more imposing giant, Grog.
"The wedding is in the afternoon, and Fleur is inside, making the final checks on the guest list", Bill said. "She decided to do it herself and add a few more invitations to those she missed before, delivering them personally..." Noticing Felix's look, he added, "Not just Hagrid's brother, but Sirius also brought a list of important guests. We didn't dare tell Mum; she's already on edge. You know, because of Fred and George's suggestion."
Felix's eyes flickered with a strange expression—yes, at Harry's birthday party the night before, Fred and George Weasley had suggested that Grog kidnap Fleur during the wedding, and Bill would have to play the hero and rescue his bride, demonstrating his bravery.
Just like ancient wizards who captured evil dragons with their own hands.
Naturally, Mrs. Weasley rejected this proposal outright and gave the twins a look that threatened to turn them into statues if they mentioned it again.
The Delacours, who were new to the scene, were quite intrigued by this imagined hero's play, but when Ginny pointed out the giant temporarily living in the orchard through the window, they were stunned speechless.
(End of Chapter)
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