The Return to Hogwarts

Harry longed for this kind of life because life with the Dursleys was far worse than he imagined.

Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and their son Dudley were Harry's only relatives in the world. But if he had a choice, Harry would rather not have such a large family of relatives and would rather have grown up in an orphanage. Harry was not ashamed of his thoughts. After all, the orphanage would not let him live in the storeroom under the stairs for several years, right?

They loathed each other, and this loathing reached its peak after Harry turned eleven and was accepted into that great magic school.

At Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Harry's most hated wizard was undoubtedly Draco Malfoy from Slytherin. That family was the most prominent in the wizarding world, hating Muggles or half-blood wizards. Uncle Vernon and his family were the complete opposite, treating magic like people in the Middle Ages, wishing they could send everyone or anything related to magic to the gallows.

On many nights when he had to hide under the covers and do his summer homework by flashlight, Harry had fantasized about what interesting sparks would fly if the Dursleys bumped into the Malfoys.

Of course, this was just Harry's wishful thinking; under normal circumstances, the two families would never meet.

Today is Saturday. Because of the paper on the shrinking potion assigned by the most annoying professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Harry barely slept last night, which resulted in him oversleeping and unfortunately missing the Dursleys' normal breakfast time.

When Harry hurried downstairs to the kitchen table, he found only a few empty oil dishes on it, while Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley were watching television around the table.

This is not surprising at all; where Dudley is, it's wishful thinking to expect to find food even if you get up late.

Seeing Harry standing at the top of the stairs, whose expression was obviously not very pleasant, Dudley, who was already so fat that he looked like a baby whale with a tuft of golden hair on his head, proudly showed off the cream cake in his hand. The cream smeared around his thick lips, which were almost like sausages, looked a lot like Uncle Vernon's thick mustache.

"Um, I had a nightmare last night, so--"

Phew——

Dudley sprayed cream everywhere, his broad shoulders shaking, but Aunt Petunia, with her long face, strangely poked her precious little darling under the table to stop him from mocking Harry.

Uncle Vernon, who loved to yell at Harry, didn't shout that he was an ungrateful wretch. Instead, he pointed his short, stubby, purplish finger at the kitchen counter.

"There are a few pieces of bread and fried eggs left for you, kid—"

As he spoke, Vernon was panting heavily, his massive body, even larger than Dudley's, trembling as if he were trying his best to suppress his anger.

"Okay!"

Harry looked at the few dry pieces of bread and said that he knew that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had probably paid a high price to get this stuff out of Dudley's mouth. It was very likely that it was another brand-new gaming computer or remote-controlled airplane, just like the brand-new color television hanging on the wall in the kitchen.

In fact, if it had been last summer, he might have been completely astonished by the small act of kindness shown by the Dursleys.

The reason they downplayed it so much is because their irrational behavior had been going on for two weeks.

At first, Harry thought it was because they were in a particularly good mood during this period—the first week of summer vacation, Uncle Vernon's company gave him a new car, and they parked it in the garden and talked loudly so that all the neighbors on Privet Drive could hear them, so that they could enjoy the envious glances of others.

But later, Harry was certain that the truth was not like that, because based on Harry's many years of experience, no matter how joyous the Dursleys' occasion, their goodwill towards him would not last more than two days.

Dudley turned his head to face the TV screen, but his ears were definitely perked up.

Harry sat silently in his usual spot, chewing on a piece of bread, pretending not to notice the exchange of glances between Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia.

What are they planning?

Harry keenly sensed this, but he was determined to remain silent and finish his breakfast as quickly as possible. He wasn't sure if what was about to happen would end well; if it did, and he angered the Dursleys, then it was highly likely that for some time to come, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia wouldn't give him a single crumb. There had been many precedents for this before he entered Hogwarts—

"How's your learning going, kid!"

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Penny seemed to have reached a consensus. In the end, it was Uncle Vernon who spoke, but he seemed to feel incredibly ashamed of what he was about to say; his shoulders trembled violently with each syllable he uttered.

Harry tensed up instantly, sensing that he was about to figure out what had been puzzling him all this time.

Uncle Vernon's question was so abrupt that Harry was stunned for several seconds before he could roughly guess what Uncle Vernon was talking about. Then, he stared in shock at his emerald green eyes.

If there's any taboo in this house that absolutely cannot be touched, then it's undoubtedly talking about anything related to magic. In the past, it was often Harry who accidentally stepped on this taboo and started discussing it. Harry even wanted to pinch his cheek to see if he was still dreaming.

"You mean in Hogwarts?!"

Harry was about to blurt it out, but seeing his Uncle Vernon's ruddy face suddenly turn purple, and his terribly thin Aunt Petunia's shoulder blades almost piercing her skin, he immediately realized his mistake and quickly changed the subject to something less offensive.

"I've learned a few things, but I'll only be in third grade after summer vacation, so there are still many things I don't understand—"

An eerie silence fell over the kitchen. Dudley tried to appear indifferent to the topic, but his ears, perked up like antennas, betrayed his true thoughts. Aunt Penny stared intently at the greasy plates on the table, her face grim.

Uncle Vernon, with his two fists, each the size of a sandbag, clenched tightly on the table, was desperately trying to process the shame that had brought him to talk about it.

The bizarre scene was chilling, and Harry even felt he wouldn't mind going hungry for a few days, as long as he could get out of this situation as soon as possible.

But deep down, Harry was also eager to know why his Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, who hated magic so much, had suddenly started talking to him about magic.

"Phew—kid—"

Finally, Uncle Vernon spoke again, but his question plunged Harry into even deeper confusion.

"--Do you guys have the means to treat patients?"

Chapter 127 Another Mr. Blaine

Harry didn't answer the question immediately. In fact, he hadn't yet recovered from the incredible thing that his Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had brought up about magic. However, the confusion in his eyes seemed like mockery and provocation to his Uncle Vernon, which further pushed his already tense nerves to the brink of breaking.

“Answer my question, kid—”

Uncle Vernon finally stopped holding back and roared at Harry. And Harry actually found that familiar roar more pleasing to the ear.

“If you’re referring to minor issues, like boils on your face, insomnia, or some minor injuries, maybe I can handle that—” Harry quickly said.

Nobody likes going hungry, it's the same for everyone. If he could, Harry would try his best to avoid offending the Dursleys, even though they didn't like each other. Although he didn't know why they were interested in this, he answered the question truthfully.

"Is this all you can handle?"

Amid Dudley's snickering, Aunt Penny interjected, giving him a suspicious look. "What if it's a more serious problem?"

To be honest, Aunt Petunia's doubts made Harry somewhat resentful. He was just a young wizard who had just graduated from his second year. What could they expect him to do? Moreover, when it came to healing, potions were always involved, and potions was precisely the subject Harry was worst at of all the magical subjects!

"--A more serious problem, if you mean poisoning."

As I recall, during the Potions class at the beginning of first year, Snape mentioned something that had a very strong antidote effect.

Harry frowned, racking his brains. The reason he was thinking so hard was not because he was eager to show off to the Dursleys, but because he didn't want the Dursleys to have the opportunity to laugh at magic because his magical skills were not good enough.

At that moment, Harry suddenly missed Hermione. If Hermione had been facing the Dursleys' questions, Harry was sure her answer would have left them speechless.

"It's not poisoning, kid!"

Uncle Vernon, his face turning purple, roared, "Looks like those bluffing tricks aren't going to make you any smarter, are they!"

Harry, his face instantly turning cold after being sprayed with spittle, stared directly into Uncle Vernon's eyes without flinching and said irritably,

"Wizards can handle a lot of problems, how would I know what you really want to ask!"

“Let me speak to him, Vernon.”

The moment Harry finished speaking, Aunt Petunia jumped up nervously. Before Uncle Vernon could explode, she shooed him and the reluctant Dudley into the living room. Then she turned back to the kitchen, glared sternly at the defiant Harry, and said sharply,

"You should show respect to every member of this family. If we hadn't taken pity on you and taken you in, your best outcome would have been to become a homeless person sleeping under a bridge!"

Faced with Aunt Petunia's reprimand, Harry remained silent with a sullen face, because he had heard similar remarks countless times over the years.

Whenever Harry showed any skepticism in front of them, they would say these things without any mercy, as if he would have ended up in a Muggle prison if it weren't for their shelter.

For the next ten minutes, a barrage of reprimands rained down on Harry. Of course, they were all the same old things. Even Dudley, who loved seeing Harry scolded, yawned and struggled to the living room to turn on another television.

Taking advantage of Aunt Petunia's moment of exhaustion and catching her breath, Harry, with only a sliver of reason left, managed to resist turning away immediately. His face darkened, and he asked in a muffled voice,

"What on earth are you going to do?"

When Harry asked her question, Aunt Petunia didn’t answer immediately but remained strangely silent. Harry could tell that it would take a lot of courage for them to talk about it.

"I've heard of it before--"

Just as Harry was about to urge her again, Aunt Petunia finally spoke, in a slow, hesitant tone, her already long face stretching even longer as she did so.

"You have a hospital there that specializes in treating all sorts of difficult and complicated illnesses—"

Which hospitals treat complex and rare diseases?

A look of confusion crossed Harry's eyes. "Do hospitals even exist in the wizarding world?" Harry wondered to himself.

But Harry soon realized that the question he was agonizing over was incredibly stupid. Of course, there should be hospitals in the wizarding world; he just hadn't heard of them. Just like last school year when he learned from Malfoy that there was a prison in the wizarding world called Azkaban, whose very name was enough to terrify wizards.

In fact, these things are just basic common sense for children growing up in wizarding families. Harry believed that Ron must know the names of wizarding hospitals, but they were novel to a young wizard like him who grew up in the Muggle world.

"If I remember correctly, it should be called Saint Mungo—"

Aunt Penny tried to downplay her words to conceal the pain and shame she felt when she brought up those painful memories.

"How could you."

Harry was about to ask in surprise, but he quickly stopped himself, realizing that the person in front of him was his mother's sister. If his mother hadn't grown up in such a terrible family environment, she must have talked about the wonderful magical world to her family many times.

"Oh, yes, you remember correctly, that's the name."

Harry, feeling uneasy, said somewhat awkwardly.

Without a doubt, he lied, because he had no idea of ​​the hospital's name. His reasons for lying were simple: first, he wanted to figure out why the Dursleys would unusually talk to him about the magical world; second, it was a strange sense of pride at play.

Even though he was the one receiving a proper magical education at Hogwarts, Aunt Petunia knew things that even he didn't, which was a bit hard for Harry to accept.

Cough cough--

In the living room, Uncle Vernon, who was watching TV with Dudley, coughed heavily twice. Aunt Petunia in the kitchen immediately knew she needed to speed things up. She took a deep breath, looked down at the pair of green eyes—eyes that always annoyed her—and spoke in as calm a tone as possible.

"I think you should remember the company your uncle works for, right?"

"Growing Company manufactures drilling rigs."

Ha glanced at the living room out of the corner of his eye and said quickly.

Aunt Penny nodded slightly, seemingly satisfied.