After HP shared the dream, Lao Fu was conquered by me

After a while, the doorbell rang, and Uncle Vernon struggled to move his huge body towards the door. Then Harry heard a burst of fake laughter, and then the sound of tearing paper.

Harry suddenly realized something. He rushed to the living room and saw Uncle Vernon holding a piece of paper in his hand. "All right," he said, striding over to the fireplace and turning back to face Harry, as if he was going to arrest Harry. "All right."

Harry felt no guilt at all. He stretched out his hand to snatch the letter from Uncle Vernon's hand, but Uncle Vernon dodged it. It was hard to describe how Uncle Vernon almost fell to the ground before he barely dodged it, and then he quickly got up.

Harry wanted to say, "Could you please give him the letter back?" But he knew Uncle Vernon's temper was unbearable so early in the morning, and he was already fuming over not having eaten enough, so he put on a polite expression.

"Just arrived," said Uncle Vernon, waving a piece of purple writing paper at Harry. "A letter. It's about you."

Harry became even more nervous, fearing that Uncle Vernon would tear up the letter so that he would never see it again, which was something he could do.

Uncle Vernon glared at Harry angrily, then looked down at the letter and read aloud:

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley,

We have never met, but I am sure you have heard a lot from Harry about my son Ron.

As Harry may have told you, the Quidditch World Cup is on Monday night, and my husband Arthur has managed to get some of the best tickets through his connections in the Department of Magical Games and Sports.

I really hope you'll let Harry go to the match; it's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity - Britain hasn't had a trophy for thirty years and tickets are hard to come by.

Of course, we would have loved to have let Harry stay until the end of the summer vacation and see him back to school safely by train.

It would be best if Harry could get your reply to us as quickly as possible by normal means, as the Muggle postman has never delivered to our house and he probably doesn't even know where we are.

Hope to see Harry soon.

Yours faithfully:

Molly Weasley

I hope we put enough stamps on it.

Uncle Vernon finished, reached into his breast pocket, and pulled out something.

"Look at this," he said grumpily.

Harry had to stifle a laugh as he held up the envelope that had contained Mrs. Weasley's letter. The envelope was covered in stamps, leaving only a small, one-inch square space on the front where Mrs. Weasley had written the Dursleys' address in tiny handwriting.

"She certainly had enough stamps," said Harry, trying to sound calm, as if Mrs. Weasley had made a common mistake. His uncle's eyes blazed.

"The postman noticed," he said through gritted teeth. "He was very curious and wanted to know where the letter came from, so he rang the doorbell. He must have thought it was a bit strange."

Harry said nothing. Others might not understand why Uncle Vernon was making such a fuss about a few extra stamps.

But Harry had lived with the Dursleys for so long that he knew they were extremely sensitive to anything even slightly out of the ordinary, and their biggest fear was someone discovering their connection to someone like Mrs. Weasley.

Uncle Vernon was still glaring at Harry, and Harry was trying hard to look stupid. As long as he didn't do or say anything stupid, he might be able to participate in the once-in-a-century event.

He waited for Uncle Vernon to say something, but when his uncle just glared at him, Harry decided to break the silence.

"So—can I go?" he asked.

Uncle Vernon's large purple face twitched slightly, and the strands of his beard stood on end.

Harry thought he could see the brain behind the mustache: Uncle Vernon's two most basic instincts were clashing. Harry would be pleased to go to the match, but Uncle Vernon hated making Harry happy, it was the very thing he hated most.

"Who is that woman?"

Uncle Vernon thought he had found Harry's weakness and began to question him, as if as long as he didn't let go, Harry would never have the chance to go to the Quidditch World Cup.

"It's my good friend's mother." Harry also understood what Uncle Vernon meant. He didn't want to go along with him at all, but this was the only way now, otherwise he would definitely be locked in the attic.

"That fat woman?" he asked finally, gruffly, "with all those red-headed kids?"

Harry looked at Uncle Vernon's face full of scorn and disdain, and he suddenly wanted to use magic to teach him a lesson, just like he had done with Lamia before. But Harry only dared to think about it, as he didn't want to be expelled from Hogwarts. After all, he had already been warned by the last incident.

"No, sir, I don't think she should use the word chubby -" Harry looked meaningfully at Dudley on the other side and Uncle Vernon in front of him.

"Bad boy! Do you think I can't hear you? Don't even think about going there! Just stay in the attic!" Uncle Vernon angrily grabbed Harry's collar, threw him into the attic, and then locked the door.

"No, you can't do this to me!" Harry kept knocking on the wooden door of the attic. The dilapidated door creaked, but Harry felt that he definitely couldn't knock the door open.

Uncle Vernon did this simply because he didn't want Harry to go. After all, he had been fat for half his life, so why would he lock him up just because of Harry's meaningless words?

Harry also noticed it, so he was looking out the window, trying to find a way to get out of here. He couldn't just let Uncle Vernon lock him up and keep him there obediently.

But then a Knight Bus sped down the street beyond Privet Drive, and Harry's eyes lit up. It was Lamia.

Harry waved from the window, "Hey, I'm here!"

Lamia's eyesight was far superior to that of a normal person. She saw Harry at a glance, but she did not let Ern stop. The two of them sat in the bus. The front of the bus climbed up the wall of the Dursleys' house, shrank and deformed, and drove straight into the attic where Harry was through the window.

"Wow!" Harry looked at the bus driving into the attic window in shock. "Lamia, this bus is amazing!"

Lamia didn't say anything, but pulled Harry into the bus and then had Ern drive away quickly. The front of the bus suddenly bounced back like jelly after leaving the window, and then left Privet Drive with three people in a roar.