Chapter 485

After Hedwig flew out of the narrow window, Harry's mood seemed to relax.

Van Lin would give him some advice, and he believed that his friends would not let him down.

At least, there's no goddamn dream on this night.

Soon, it was breakfast time for the Dursleys.

By the time Harry arrived in the kitchen, the three were already sitting around the table. He came and sat down in silence, and no one looked up in the whole process. My uncle's big red face was covered by the morning paper. My aunt was dividing the grapefruit into four parts. Her teeth were like horse teeth, and her lips were closed.

Dudley looked angry and angry, as if to occupy more space than usual. He always occupies one side of the square table. When his aunt put a quarter of the grapes on his plate, he glared at her angrily, and she said to her, "eat it, honey." Since he came back with his year-end study report in the summer, his life has become very unhappy.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia made excuses for their son's low grades as usual. Aunt said Dudley was a gifted child, but the teacher didn't understand him, and the uncle said he didn't want his son to study too hard. They only mentioned the criticism on the report card, and his aunt said with tears in her eyes, "he is a violent child, but he will not hurt a fly."

However, at the end of the report card, there was a comment from the school guard, which my aunt and uncle could not explain. No matter how my aunt complained about Dudley's big bones, the cost per pound was about the same as that of a little dog, who said he needed enough food when he was growing up. But it can't change this fact. The school clothing salesman said that he couldn't find such a large pair of short pants for Dudley to wear. The school nurse noticed that her aunt's eyes were sharp only when someone made a winning fingerprint on her shiny wall and observed the coming and going of neighbors, but she turned a blind eye to her son's problems. Dudley didn't need nutrition. In fact, Dudley had reached the weight of a killer whale in terms of weight and size.

After a lot of tantrums, the argument made Harry's bedroom floor tremble, his aunt shed a lot of tears, and a new feeding list began. The food list was sent by the school nurse and pasted on the refrigerator, except for all Dudley's favorite foods: bubbly drinks, cakes, chocolate candies, and hamburgers, while fruits, vegetables, and what his uncle called "rabbit food" were stuffed in. In order to make Dudley feel better, his aunt insisted that the whole family follow the new food list. She now gave Harry a grapefruit, and Harry noticed that his share was much smaller than Dudley's. My aunt seemed to feel that the best way to keep Dudley's fighting spirit was to make sure that Dudley did eat more than halide.

But my aunt didn't know what was under the floor upstairs. She didn't know Harry didn't eat the recipe at all. As soon as he got the news that he might have to eat carrots for a summer vacation, he immediately sent Hedwig out to his friends to ask for help, and they were all generous. Hedwig brought back a large box of sugar free snacks from Hermione's home (Hermione's parents are dentists and naturally pay attention to tooth protection).

Harry's school administrator gave him a bag of stone biscuits, which he made at home (Harry hasn't moved yet. He knows too much about the steward's cooking skills. Hagrid's teeth are not comparable to ordinary people's). Mrs. Weasley sent her owl to bring large bags of fruit pies and all kinds of mince pies. Poor arrow, old and frail, took five days to recover. Later on Harry's birthday (Dursley completely ignored) he received four big cakes, one from Ron, Hermione, van Lin and Sirius. Harry left two for real breakfast. He began to eat his sleeves without complaining.

His uncle let go of his newspaper, scoffed and disapproved. Then he looked at his own piece of fruit.

"Is that all?" He muttered to his aunt.

His aunt gave him a stern look, looked at Dudley and nodded. Dudley had already eaten his share, and his greedy little eyes looked sour at Harry's share.

With a long sigh, his uncle messed up his big bushy Hu. He picked up the spoon.

The doorbell rang, and the uncle got up from his chair and went into the hall. Dudley thundered at the rest of his father's share while his mother was busy filling the kettle.

Harry heard the talk at the door. Someone laughed and his uncle responded rudely. Then the front door closed and the sound of tearing paper came from the hall.

My aunt put the teapot on the table and looked around curiously to find out where my uncle had gone.

She didn't have to wait long for the answer: after about a minute, he came back. He looks very angry.

He yelled at Harry, "you, go into the living room, right now!"

Harry was puzzled. He didn't know what he had done this time. Harry stood up, followed his uncle out of the kitchen and into another room. His uncle slammed the door.

"So," he said, walking into the fireplace, turning to Harry, as if to arrest Harry, "so."

Harry was going to ask, "so what?" But he felt that he should not offend his uncle early in the morning, especially in the case of insufficient breakfast food and high tension. So he stood there, polite but puzzled."This has just been received," said the uncle, waving a piece of purple writing paper to Harry, "a letter. Yours. "

Harry was even more confused. Who is writing to his uncle about him? Who knows how to send letters through postal staff?

Aunt Wen glared at Harry, then looked down at the letter and read aloud: Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, we have never met, but I'm sure you know a lot about my son Ron.

Harry may have told you that the Quidditch final will be held next Monday night, and my husband Arthur got tickets in the Ministry of magic and sports through a relationship.

I hope you'll allow us to take Harry to the game because it's the only chance in my life.

The United States has not been the host country for 30 years, and tickets are particularly difficult to buy. We are certainly very happy to let Harry spend the rest of his holiday here, until he can safely board the train and return to school.

It's better for Harry to write back to us as soon as possible, in the normal way, because the non magic postman never delivers letters to our home. I'm not sure he knows the address.

Hope to see Harry soon, your sincere Molly Weasley postscript; I do hope we have enough stamps.

After reading the letter, his uncle put his hand back into his chest pocket and pulled out another thing.

"Look at this!" He growled.

He held up Mrs. Weasley's stationery, and Harry had to suppress the urge to laugh. The envelope was full of stamps, except for a small, small letter address of the Dursleys.

Harry said, "she has enough stamps," and tried to sound as if Mrs. Weasley had made a mistake anyone could have made. Uncle Vernon's eyes flashed.

"The postman noticed it, and he was interested to know where the letter came from, and he rang the doorbell. He seems to think it's funny

Harry couldn't say a word. People don't understand why his uncle is so critical of stamps, but Harry and Dudley have lived together for so long that they don't know that they are allergic to anything out of the ordinary. What they were most worried about was that they would be associated with people like Mrs. Weasley.

Uncle Vernon still glared at Harry. Harry tried his best to be natural, not to say stupid things, not to do stupid things. He waited for Uncle Vernon to speak. But he just stares. Harry decided to break the loneliness.

"So May I go now? " He asked.

His uncle's big purple face twitched and his beard stood up. Harry knew that behind the beard, uncle's two most fundamental natures were in a fierce confrontation. Allowing Harry to leave would make Harry happy, contrary to what his uncle had been fighting for for for 13 years. On the other hand, to let Harry go to Weasley's house for the rest of his holiday, leaving two weeks ahead of schedule, was something that others would not have wanted. Uncle really hates Harry at his house. As if to give himself time to think about it, he looked at Mrs. Weasley's envelope.

"Who is this woman?" He said, staring at the signature in disgust.

"You've seen it," said Harry. "She's my friend Ron's mother. She takes him to Hogg The train to get off the school. It was the end of last semester. "

He almost said "Hogwarts Express", which would have made his uncle angry. No one dares to mention the name of Harry's school in Dursley's house.

The uncle's face wrinkled, as if trying to remember something very unpleasant.

"The short fat type of woman?" He finally growled, "a bunch of redheads?"

Harry frowned. His uncle could call anyone "chubby", but not his own son, which has not been allowed since he was three years old.

My uncle looked at the letter again.

"Quidditch World Cup," he murmured, holding his breath. "What kind of rubbish is this?"

Harry was stabbed with anger again.

"It's a sport," he said briefly, "playing on a broom."

"Yes, yes!" My aunt said loudly. Harry was a little satisfied. He saw that his uncle was afraid. Obviously, his nerves couldn't stand the word "broom" being spoken in his living room. He diverts his attention by reading letters. Harry saw his lips as if to say, "give us an answer in the normal way." He glared angrily.

"Normal way? What does she mean? " He asked.

"It's normal for us," said Harry, whose uncle had not stopped him, and he added, "owl mail, you know. That's normal for a wizard. "

Uncle Vernon looked furious, as if Harry had just made a disgusting oath. Shaking with anger, he looked out of the window uneasily, as if to see some neighbors with their ears on the glass to steal a listen.

"How many times have I told you not to mention unnatural things at home?" He said his face was completely pigmented. "You stand there, you ungrateful thing, and wear the clothes your aunt and I gave you..."

"It's just Dudley who's not wearing it!" Indeed, Harry said coldly, the T-shirt he was wearing was too big. The sleeves had to be rolled up five times before he reached out his hand. The T-shirt was over the knee, and his jeans were also very fat."Don't talk to me like that!" Said Uncle Vernon, trembling with anger.

But Harry is not going to put up with it any more. The days when he was forced to obey the Dursleys' rules, he would not eat on Dudley's diet. He won't let Uncle Vernon stop him from going to the Quidditch World Cup.

"I'll write to my godfather, you know, Sirius Black."

He did, as if he had said some magic words, and now he saw his uncle's face faded purple, covered with sweat, and looked like ice cream mixed with black vinegar.

"You'll write to him, won't you?" Uncle Vernon said he wanted to calm down, but Harry saw his pupils constrict with fear.

"Oh," said Harry casually, "it's been a while since he received my letter, and if he hadn't received my letter, you know, he might start to wonder if there was any trouble."

He stood there, enjoying the effect of these words. He could almost see what his uncle was thinking. If he stops Harry from writing to Sirius, Sirius will think Harry is being abused. If he didn't allow Harry to go to the Quidditch World Cup, Harry would write to Sirius and he would think Harry was being abused. Then my uncle can only do one thing. Harry could see the conclusion forming in his uncle's brain, as if his brain were transparent. Harry tried to be as expressionless as he could, and then - "well, you can watch this stupid world cup. You write to these Weasleys and tell them I don't have time to pick you up. You can spend the rest of your vacation there. You can tell you - your Godfather. Tell him Tell him You're going. "

This is Harry's killer, a murderer, er Once upon a time.

However, in Muggle world, this has not been revoked, and the Ministry of magic will not spare no effort to erase so many people's memories.

Naturally, Uncle Vernon's knowledge of Sirius is still in the period when he killed people.

It's a terrible thing for Muggles, and Vernon knows that it's Harry's godfather, a wizard who killed people, and Muggle police can't play any role.

If Sirius gets upset, the Vernons will be threatened or something else.

If it really happened, Vernon had nothing to do. If Harry could not use magic outside school, Vernon would have been afraid of Harry.

Of course, out of habit, this cannot be changed.

Harry doesn't care. As long as he is an adult, he can leave here.

This killer mace was taught to him by Fanlin before he left. It's called making momentum!

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