Claude Watson - the boss of the drilling company where Uncle Vernon works.
It was a name that he had heard countless times from his aunt and uncle, the Dursleys, who had taken him in reluctantly after his parents died. Claude Watson was the boss of Grunnings, the drilling company where Uncle Vernon worked as a director. He was a man of great importance and influence in the Muggle world, or so the Dursleys claimed.
If this had been two or three years ago, before Harry discovered that he was a wizard and started attending Hogwarts, he would have been able to say Claude Watson's name without hesitation, even though he had never seen his face. That was not surprising, considering how often the Dursleys talked about him and his achievements. In fact, the word 'often' was an understatement. The Dursleys practically worshipped Claude Watson and never missed an opportunity to praise him.
Whenever they discussed the generous benefits that Uncle Vernon's company offered, or the impressive growth that the company had achieved over the years, Uncle Vernon always spoke with the utmost respect and admiration about Claude Watson and his wise and brilliant decisions. He sounded like a loyal and devoted follower, eager to please his leader and emulate his success. Harry could not help but think of an inappropriate comparison. He suddenly remembered the house-elf named Dobby, who belonged to the Malfoy family, a group of evil wizards that Harry had encountered last year. Dobby had the same attitude when he talked to Harry, calling him a great and noble wizard, even though Harry felt he had done nothing to deserve such praise.
But since Harry had entered the magical world and spent two summer vacations away from the Dursleys, he had not heard them mention Claude Watson much. He had assumed that they had lost interest in him, or that he had retired. He was wrong. It turned out that Claude Watson had been diagnosed with a terminal illness that had no cure in the Muggle world. He had been suffering from a rare and aggressive form of cancer that had spread throughout his body.
"Oh, that's unfortunate -" Harry frowned and said in surprise, "When did it happen?"
"Two years. Or three or four years?" Aunt Petunia said dryly, as if she did not care about the exact date. "Anyway, this news only became known in your uncle's company recently. Before that, Vernon and his colleagues always wondered why Mr. Watson did not show up at the office often. He used to come every day, assign work tasks to Vernon and them, and tell them the direction of their efforts."
Harry realized what the Dursleys had in mind. They wanted him to use his magic to heal Claude Watson, the owner of Grunnings. They expected him to break the wizarding law and jeopardize his own future for their greedy benefit. Harry was well aware of the penalty for violating that law. He had gotten a warning letter from the Ministry of Magic the previous summer, when he had flown his uncle's car with Ron to escape from the Dursleys' house. They had locked him in his room and tried to prevent him from going to Hogwarts. The letter, written by Mafalda Hopkirk and delivered by a flock of owls, reminded Harry that he had breached the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, and that he would be expelled if he did it again. (source ;Books)
"We are not allowed to show magic to Muggles. I mean, people who don't understand magic. You know, you've seen it. Last summer, I received a warning letter." Harry said firmly, hoping to end the conversation.
"About that, I have discussed with Vernon -" Aunt Petunia said breathlessly, ignoring Harry's protest. "If someone troubles you, we will help you explain. Vernon's many colleagues are trying their best to find doctors with high medical skills. Of course, the possibility of curing that kind of disease is not great, but as long as they can help Mr. Watson survive for two more days, or recover some spirits. You understand what we mean, Vernon has been working as a director for some years, and he is very capable. He should show his talents in a higher position."
Aunt Petunia repeated with a heavier tone, as if she was trying to persuade Harry and herself. "We think you should do something about this. I think you might think so too. After all, without us, you would be on the street!"
Harry was sending out messages of resistance all over his body. To be honest, he didn't want to get involved in this trouble, but Aunt Petunia, who had already opened the topic, seemed unwilling to let go of this opportunity.
"There must be people who have had this disease in your place, right? How does that hospital called St. Mungo's deal with it? The money matters are up to me and Vernon. As long as they can come up with some medicine that works!" Aunt Petunia said desperately, clutching Harry's arm.
Harry Potter felt a pang of doubt and confusion as he listened to Aunt Petunia's question. He did not know how capable St. Mungo's Hospital was. He was wondering about another question, one that he had never thought of before. Were there any wizards who had suffered from cancer?
Harry racked his brain for any information that he had learned from the magical world since he had first come into contact with it two years ago. But whether it was the casual conversations that he had with his friends and classmates, the wizarding magazines and newspapers that he had read in the library or the common room, the off-topic talks that the professors sometimes gave in their classes, or the times that he had lain in the hospital wing and listened to Madam Pomfrey's nagging about the strange diseases that the young wizards had contracted in the past, none of them seemed to have anything to do with this.
Harry's long silence made Uncle Vernon, who was worried about his future, impatient.
"You have to be grateful, kid!"
Uncle Vernon's voice snapped Harry out of his thoughts. He saw his uncle's face turn red with anger and frustration. He heard him stomp on the wooden floor of the living room, making the furniture shake and the pictures rattle. He watched him slam his fist on the door frame of the kitchen, making it crack and splinter.
"We saved you from starving!" Uncle Vernon roared at Harry, as he stood at the kitchen door and glared at him. "We gave you clothes to wear, let you go to school, and gave you Dudley's old bedroom. If you know how to spell the word 'grateful', you should be happy to agree to this!"
Harry felt a surge of resentment and defiance. He wanted to retort that the Dursleys had only adopted him because the Muggle law required them to do so, that they had only let him go to school because it was free, and that the clothes and the bedroom were all Dudley's cast-offs that he had outgrown or broken. He wanted to remind them that they had treated him like a slave and a freak for ten years, until he received his letter from Hogwarts. He wanted to tell them that they had no right to ask him for anything, let alone something so dangerous and illegal.
But he bit his tongue and kept silent. He knew that if he said anything like that, the Dursleys would lock him in the cupboard under the stairs with an iron chain and never let him out. They would not let him go back to Hogwarts.
"I have a condition -"
Harry finally said, breaking the tense silence. He raised his head and looked at Uncle Vernon, who was panting and sweating. He spoke in a gloomy and reluctant tone,
"You have to give me back my magic books. I need to finish my summer homework!"
"How dare you make conditions!"
Uncle Vernon bellowed, as he slammed the door frame that was about to fall apart. He yelled, "Look at you, don't know how to be grateful, just like-, I knew your true colors a long time ago, kid!"
"Vernon, the neighbors will hear -" Aunt Petunia whispered a warning, as she looked around nervously. She did not want anyone to know about their abnormal nephew and his abnormal request. She then looked at Harry, with a cold and dry stare. Her chest was heaving, and it seemed that Harry's ungrateful attitude also made her angry.
But Harry did not back down. He had had enough of the days when he hid under the bed at night and wrote his summer homework by flashlight. He had to take this opportunity to get back all his magic books, or he would fall behind in his studies. He could imagine that when school started next term, his potion teacher, Snape, who hated him with a passion, would not let him go easily. He would deduct points from his house, or give him detention, or worse.
"You have to promise -"
Aunt Petunia finally gave in. She turned pale and gritted her teeth, as she said, "You won't make any weird noises, and you won't mention anything about your side in front of the neighbors!"
"No problem!"
Harry said quickly, feeling a sense of victory. It was not easy to make the Dursleys give in, even a little bit. But he immediately added, "I have to go and see this Mr. Watson's situation first -"
Under Aunt Petunia's sudden alert gaze, Harry shrugged and said, "Only by figuring out the situation can I ask my friends to find out."
"Okay -"
This was a reasonable request, and even Uncle Vernon could not find any fault with it. He gasped and said reluctantly, "I and your aunt and Dudley plan to visit him tomorrow. You can go with us, but I warn you, kid,"
Uncle Vernon bent down his oppressive huge body, and his eyes flashed with threat. He said, "Mr. Watson is a very decent gentleman. If you dare to make any trouble in his house, kid, I promise you will regret being born!"
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