"What… what does this mean, Dudley?" Harry looked blankly at his cousin.
He recognized every word in the letter, but together, they didn't make sense. It felt more like an April Fool's joke than a real letter.
"You don't understand?" Dudley asked, eyeing Harry. He'd thought the letter might trigger some memory in Harry, but he remained dazed.
"Understand what?" Harry retorted. "I mean, this letter's a prank, right? Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Wizard Principal—these things don't exist." He stammered.
Dudley studied Harry seriously, blinking slightly to activate his spiritual perception. Deep within Harry's soul, a magical energy surged—not abundant, but pure. It resembled spiritual power, yet wasn't quite the same.
If the letter was genuine, it suggested a hidden magical world they were unaware of. Dudley recalled that in the strange world, despite rampant oddities, most people perceived it as normal, oblivious to the peculiarities. Could this world's magical realm be similarly concealed beneath everyday reality?
"Come with me," Dudley said decisively, opening the stairwell door and moving to the kitchen doorway. He peered through the keyhole to observe inside.
Harry followed quickly, but with Dudley at the keyhole, he lay on the ground to peek through the crack under the door.
"They clearly know something!" Dudley was certain. His parents' expressions and demeanor after seeing Harry's letter confirmed they knew about this magical world.
However, Dudley had previously used his spiritual vision on his parents and found no peculiar energy like Harry's in their souls. If that energy marked a wizard, his parents were not wizards.
"Vernon, what should we do? Have they been watching us? Look at the address—they even know Harry lives in the stairwell. Oh, my goodness, what do we do…" Petunia's voice trembled.
"Watching, spying, maybe even following us! Damn it!" Vernon roared furiously.
"They do know!" Dudley's certainty grew. His parents were aware of the wizarding world.
"But what do we do, Vernon? Should we write back and say we don't want Harry to go to that place…" Petunia continued, trembling.
"No, we can't write back!" Vernon shouted. "We'll pretend we didn't get the letter, act like nothing happened. That's the best way!"
"If they don't get a reply, they'll think Harry refused. It's perfect!"
"This… but…" Petunia hesitated, unsure if this would lead to greater trouble.
Outside, Dudley's brow furrowed; the situation was unfolding beyond his expectations. Harry, still on the ground, grew anxious. Though he didn't fully grasp the letter's meaning, it was clear Vernon and Petunia wanted to prevent him from doing something.
Bang, bang. Dudley knocked on the kitchen door. He wanted a frank talk with his parents to clarify what was happening.
Crack! The door flew open violently, revealing Vernon's large face. Harry, still on the ground, looked up confusedly at Vernon's feet.
"Dad, I think we should have a good talk about this," Dudley said gently, using his extraordinary abilities to calm his father's emotions.
"Talk? There's nothing to discuss. That letter was misaddressed, and we've burned it. Don't worry about it anymore," Vernon said, his tone softer than before.
"Impossible, it wasn't wrong! I saw the address—4 Privet Drive, Harry Potter in the stairwell. How could that be wrong?" Harry retorted loudly.
"Shut up!" Vernon's calmed emotions flared again. "I said it was wrong, so it was wrong!" He paused, then added, "However, uh… Dudley mentioned moving you to the small bedroom upstairs. We've considered it and decided you can move today. You've grown a lot recently."
"Alright, that's settled. Don't mention that letter again!" Vernon warned.
"Dad, I know you don't want Harry to see that letter, but…" Dudley said slowly, pulling a letter from his pocket. "Actually, I received the same one."
Instantly, the air in the room seemed to solidify. Vernon and Petunia's faces showed horror and disbelief, their breathing labored as if the oxygen had been sucked out.
"Oh, my goodness, oh, my goodness!" Vernon shook his head, unable to believe it. "How could my son get a letter from that dreadful place! Impossible, this is impossible!"
Petunia's mouth formed a circle, staring blankly at the letter in Dudley's hand, unable to speak.
Dudley's gaze swept over them. His father's reaction—shock, disbelief, fear—was expected. But Petunia's expression held something more: shock and fear, yes, but also a hint of hope and an unspoken pride.
This complex emotion was subtle; without his extraordinary perception, Dudley wouldn't have noticed it on his mother's face.
"So, shouldn't you tell me what's going on?" Dudley asked. "According to the letter, I've been admitted to a magic school called Hogwarts. Have you heard of this school?"
He unfolded the yellowed parchment, showing its contents to them.
"Oh, my goodness," Petunia gasped, swaying slightly and collapsing onto the sofa.
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