"Petunia… you…" Vernon stared blankly at Petunia, stunned that she'd agree to let Dudley study magic at that bizarre school. Didn't his wife always despise anything strange and eerie?
"Vernon, since… I mean, since Dudley received a letter from that school and wants to go, it'll be hard to stop him," Petunia said, her voice trembling slightly. "If we don't let him go, those people might storm our house and take him away."
"Is… is that true?" Vernon asked, incredulous.
"Yes, I've seen how powerful they are," Petunia replied, glancing at Dudley.
Vernon's expression froze. Dudley seized the moment to outline the pros and cons. He sensed his mother wasn't fully truthful, but that didn't matter. As long as he could attend that school, he'd uncover its secrets himself.
Over the following hours, Dudley used his extraordinary characteristics to thoroughly convince Vernon. Petunia, after initial resistance, fully supported Dudley, assisting him with an enthusiasm that surprised even him. He barely needed to use spiritual power to guide her; his efforts focused on Vernon.
The day ended in this absurd atmosphere.
The next day, Dudley and Harry decided to write a reply to inform the school of their acceptance. Both were deeply curious about the magical world. The reply was simple to write. After Dudley finished, he placed it in the mailbox, and an owl swiftly took it away.
A day later, they received a response. "The letter says a teacher will come at the end of July to help us buy necessary supplies," Dudley said, reading it.
"Oh, my goodness! I don't want those freaks in my house!" Vernon let out a strange cry. The thought of a wizard entering his home felt worse than death.
"But Uncle Vernon, your son Dudley's about to become a wizard," Harry said. "Won't you let him come back?"
"Shut up!" Vernon roared, flustered.
Harry shrugged, just pointing out the obvious.
Dudley shook his head and handed the letter to Harry. "They're sending a special teacher. Does Hogwarts have that many teachers?" he asked, puzzled. If wizards were rare, how could they spare teachers to guide every child through shopping?
"Maybe it's just for kids like us, new to the magical world. Kids from wizard families probably don't need it," Harry suggested.
"That makes sense!" Dudley nodded.
The Dursley family and Harry awaited the end of July. For Harry, it wasn't just about meeting a Hogwarts teacher; it was also his eleventh birthday. The Dursleys would likely forget or give him something like Vernon's old socks, as they had before. Harry didn't expect decent gifts; the magical world itself was his greatest birthday present.
Dudley stayed busy. Besides exercising and losing weight, he bonded with neighborhood kids during the summer. Using his extraordinary characteristics and physical persuasion, he thrived among them, becoming the local "children's king." He established rules and mediated conflicts as an Arbitrator, aiding the digestion of his extraordinary characteristics. Though superficial, this acting accelerated the process.
July 30 arrived amid this anticipation. "It's already the 30th. Hasn't that… that school's teacher come yet?" Vernon asked nervously, scanning outside, as if fearing a cloaked figure would appear.
"I don't know; the letter didn't specify a time," Dudley said.
"Maybe tomorrow," Petunia added.
"Did Aunt Lily have a teacher pick her up back then?" Dudley asked curiously.
Petunia's face stiffened, then she shook her head. "No, I'm not sure of the details."
"Alright," Dudley said.
"Maybe we should wait at the door?" Harry suggested.
Dudley considered, then shook his head. "Let's not. We don't even know if they're coming today."
He could tell Harry was anxious, still doubting the magical world's existence, fearing the events were a prank.
"Don't worry. What's meant to come will come," Dudley reassured.
"Alright," Harry said, dropping the idea.
"Oh, by the way, I've never asked—what's with that lightning-shaped scar on your head?" Dudley asked idly.
"I don't know. I've had it since I was little," Harry said, glancing at Petunia and Vernon. They'd told him it was from a car accident, but since they'd recently admitted his parents didn't die that way, the scar's origin was unclear.
"Don't look at us. You had that scar when you arrived. Maybe it's a mark from your parents," Vernon said grumpily.
Harry pursed his lips, silent.
"The shape's so peculiar," Dudley said, reaching to touch the scar.
Harry instinctively flinched but, recalling Dudley's recent kindness, stayed still, letting Dudley's hand rest on his forehead.
"Ah!" Dudley exclaimed, yanking his hand back as if shocked.