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"A useless, lazy, good-for-nothing liar, he..."
"He was not!"
Harry trembled with rage at Aunt Marge's words. He couldn't let anyone talk about his father that way.
"More brandy!" Uncle Vernon, sensing the danger of the situation, poured the remaining liquor from the bottle into Aunt Marge's glass. He roared at Harry, "Go to bed! Now!"
"No, Vernon."
Aunt Marge gulped down the brandy, letting out a loud burp.
Her bloodshot eyes locked onto Harry's, and she poked at his scar. "Go on, boy. You proud of your parents, eh? Died in a car crash, didn't they?"
Harry couldn't take it any longer. He stood up, shouting, "They did not die in a car crash!"
Vernon's face went pale. His stubby fingers twitched as he tried to stop Marge from speaking further.
But it was like someone had flipped a switch. Harsh words continued pouring out of Marge's mouth.
She insulted Harry, calling him a burden on the family, a rude, ungrateful brat.
As she spoke, her body began to swell.
Terrified, she looked down to see her body inflating like a balloon, and soon enough, she started floating into the air.
Uncle Vernon screamed in terror as he watched Aunt Marge inflate and float away. He tried to grab onto her to stop her from drifting off, but he nearly got pulled up himself.
The Dursleys were in complete chaos, and Harry had had enough.
He grabbed his belongings, taking just a few seconds to pack up and move to the door.
Uncle Vernon noticed and tried to stop him, but Harry, still furious, pulled out his wand and pointed it at him, threatening, "She brought this on herself. Get out of my way!"
After seeing what had just happened, Uncle Vernon didn't dare stop him.
Dragging his suitcase behind him, Harry walked several blocks before finally calming down.
He collapsed onto a low wall on Magnolia Crescent, completely drained, gasping for breath.
He was lost—where could he go now?
Using magic on a Muggle outside of school, he might now be hunted by the Ministry of Magic, possibly thrown into Azkaban(?)
He sat there, frozen with uncertainty, for a full ten minutes.
Nervous, anxious, unsure, confused…
His emotions swirled inside him like a mess of spilled spices—sweet, sour, bitter, and salty—making him hang his head in despair.
He thought sadly, "Maybe I'll be a fugitive, wandering alone in the dark Muggle world."
Harry thought about Ron and Hermione.
No matter what happened, his friends would definitely help him, even if he had broken the law.
Because of Aunt Marge's visit, Harry had sent Hedwig to stay at Ron's place for a few days, which meant he had no way of contacting anyone right now.
He felt utterly miserable.
"Harry, it seems like things are pretty lively on your end."
A voice suddenly rang out, and Harry jerked his head up.
John emerged from the shadows, holding a can of fish snacks for some reason.
Seeing Harry so dejected, John raised an eyebrow and said, "Are you planning to run away from home?"
"John, I—I think I'm about to become a fugitive."
Seeing John, Harry realized he lived nearby and had probably seen the whole mess unfold. Defeated, Harry said, "I was hoping you could lend me some money so I could escape further away."
"Don't be ridiculous, Harry. But you do need to calm down a bit."
John looked at him with an exasperated expression.
"Why don't you come to my home?"
Harry was the Chosen One—no way would the Ministry throw him in Azkaban over something this small.
"John.. I have gotten many warnings from the ministry and what I just did now.. I-I don't wanna drag you in my mess.. I think I'm going to live my life as a fugitive.."
"Ok, Harry, Sigh" John walked up to Harry, set down the fish snacks, and said, "Don't be so down. You'll be fine. Just find a place to wait for a while. The Ministry might send you a letter."
"Don't worry about me.. I-I'll somehow manage."
Seeing that Harry clearly didn't want to go back, John thought for a moment and suggested, "If you don't want to return, you can stay at the Leaky Cauldron for a while. I'll handle the rest! Ok?"
"Alright, ..maybe you're right," Harry said, feeling slightly better after being comforted. He remembered how in second year, Dobby had knocked over a cake, and the Ministry had sent him a warning.
John patted Harry on the shoulder and pulled out a pouch of Galleons from his bag.
Harry's eyes went wide with shock. "Uh... this is way too much, at least a hundred Galleons," he stammered, scratching his head.
John rolled his eyes. 'You've got a mountain of gold sitting in your family vault, and you're acting like a pauper here?'
He tossed the pouch to Harry, who clutched his chest, nearly winded by the heavy bag.
"Oh, gotta do something about that balloon!"
John turned and headed toward the Dursleys' house. With someone as big as Aunt Marge floating around in the sky, he needed to take care of things before other Muggles noticed.
After John left, Harry finally caught his breath from under the pile of Galleons. Watching John disappear into the distance, Harry felt a warm glow in his heart.
But suddenly, he felt a chill creeping up the back of his neck.
Confused, he glanced toward the darkened street behind him. At the far end of the road, there seemed to be something lurking there.
"Lumos."
Harry's wand lit up, momentarily dazzling him. He raised it higher to ease the glare, finally able to see more clearly.
Across the road stood a large black dog, almost bear-like in its size.
A wave of panic hit Harry. Just as he tried to get a better look, he stumbled and fell.
"Ow!"
Suddenly, a loud rumble approached.
Beep beep!
Blinded by the intense headlights, Harry shielded his eyes with his hand, peeking through his fingers to see what was coming.
It was a purple, triple-decker bus. A young conductor, about seventeen or eighteen, stepped off. He had large, protruding ears.
The conductor looked at Harry, who was sprawled on the ground, and asked curiously, "What are you doing sitting on the floor?"
Harry quickly glanced back across the street, but the large black dog had vanished.
...
Screams, barking, and chaos ensued inside the Dursley household, like a bull had stormed through their living room.
Marge was still floating high in the sky, dangerously close to being swept away by the wind. Just then, a snowy owl swooped in, gripping her collar and trying to guide her back down.
John stood at the Dursley's front door, giving it a light knock.
Judging by the commotion inside, it seemed they were too preoccupied to answer.
With a simple wave of his hand over the door handle, there was a soft *click*, and the door unlocked itself.
John walked into the house, and the chaotic noise abruptly stopped as if someone had hit a pause button.
"You dare show up here! You lot—" Vernon Dursley roared furiously. John frowned, and with just a glance, Vernon swallowed the rest of his sentence.
At that moment, outside, Marge was being dragged back down by Basil, the owl.
Seeing this, the Dursleys hurried over to help her.
"Fix her! Now!" Vernon barked, still in the habit of commanding Harry.
But then he realized he was talking to John, who was now standing with an amused look on his face.
John spoke calmly, "If you'd received a proper Muggle education, you'd know when it's time to be polite."
Vernon's face turned a deep shade of purple as his lips trembled. Finally, he managed to force out a few words, "Please... help her."
"That's better," John said, raising an eyebrow. He pointed a finger at Marge.
It was as if a balloon had been popped. Marge's body deflated rapidly, shrinking back to normal size. She collapsed to the ground in shock, her hair in complete disarray. Even her bulldog couldn't snap her out of her terrified stupor.
Just as John finished, a loud crack echoed from outside, and two figures appeared: a man and a woman.
It was the Ministry of Magic officials.
Upon arrival, they first saw John, then the terrified Marge.
"You've arrived. I believe there's a Muggle here who could use some memory modification for a particularly... stimulating experience," John said, turning around with a smile, as if the whole situation had nothing to do with him.
The male official eyed John suspiciously and asked, "Are you a Hogwarts student?"
"No need to thank me for sparing you the trouble of searching," John replied, pointing to Basil the owl. "If you could bring along two cans of fish snacks for my owl, it'd be much appreciated."
The two officials were a bit stunned. They had meant to interrogate him, but somehow, John had twisted the situation into them owing him thanks.
Of course, they knew this wasn't Harry Potter. The Ministry had been alerted to Harry performing magic. John's presence didn't explain much, and to make things even more confusing, John credited the whole situation to Basil.
In the end, the Ministry officials erased Marge's memories, an act that left the Dursleys trembling in fear. To them, it seemed as though the Ministry was turning Marge into a mindless idiot.
After handling everything, the two officials left.
But John didn't!
He casually sat down on the sofa, with Basil perched on his shoulder.
"Now, Mr. Dursley, could you explain to me why Harry was so angry?"
He smiled slightly, and Vernon Dursley swallowed hard.
This child was clearly the same age as Harry, but he exuded the same level of intimidation as wealthy officials who abused their power through money.
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