A certain Hogwarts professor of runes

Chapter 706 Halftime

As expected, the television interview sparked a heated discussion the next day.

A series of fresh news reports sprang from the machine like freshly baked bread slices, eagerly awaiting butter and jam to be stuffed into people's bellies. Fred and George's private radio station came in handy again, picking out interesting news items after their morning clippings to broadcast to "those who still have a childlike heart."

After reading the news article "Utopian Society: Progress or Regression?", Fred asked his listeners for help: "Does anyone know if 'utopia' is actually an insult? I still don't understand after reading the whole thing. This guy who calls himself an anthropologist thinks that wizards are a group of freaks practicing some large-scale social experiment that conforms to their ideals. It gives me the illusion of working for free. Listen to this: When material wealth is extremely abundant and individual survival capabilities reach their peak, the social structure of humankind will inevitably shift from strictness to looseness. At that time, the concept of the nation-state will be weakened, and individuals will come together because of shared ideals..."

Naturally, no one responded to him. After George finished reading a Weasley Magic Tricks exclusive, Lee Jordan introduced the audience to the world outside of Britain, which he had learned from relatives abroad.

"The situation is not optimistic," he said on his latest radio program. "My cousin, who is several generations removed from me, scoffs at my hairstyle. His whole family looks down on people, which gives me a bad feeling. People like them would never seek refuge with poor relatives or choose to live under someone else's roof unless they are absolutely desperate. And I happen to have ample sources of information to prove that the number of people fleeing—or, to put it more politely, temporary residents—is increasing recently."

"I would also like to remind you young listeners that if there are strangers in your home, but your parents insist that you are related to them by blood, you must persuade them to register with the Ministry of Magic and abide by the local laws; otherwise, you will be subject to a hefty fine and an occasional Azkaban experience—given that it is already full of Death Eaters, now is not a good time to show your personality and courage."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione's voices would occasionally appear on the radio, which Ron found amusing. He seemed to enjoy broadcasting his voice so much that he even forgot the real purpose of returning to the Burrow.

"A wedding, Ronald Weasley's, your older brother's wedding!" Mrs. Weasley glared at him menacingly. "I didn't call you back so you could just laze around."

"Mom, I'm doing something important—they have that right," Ron protested loudly.

"Yes, but you also have the right to do housework," Mrs. Weasley said with a slightly sarcastic tone. "Now go and clean up the goblins in the garden. They're getting bolder and bolder. One day they'll climb onto the dining table and ask me to change the channel on the magic radio."

"This proves a point," Ron said in a low voice, "you get tired of listening to the same song all the time."

So Harry and Ron went to the garden and bent down to search for goblins in the grass. These creatures looked like mutated potatoes and had the same intelligence as when they were still planted in the ground, so it was just a physical task. Hermione was invited to help Ginny choose colors for the gifts, ribbons and flowers. Of course, the flowers hadn't returned yet, so Mrs. Weasley gave the task to Fred and George.

"You went back to the Dursleys' last night?" Ron asked in surprise in the garden. "Tell me more!"

"Go get the things," Harry said with mixed feelings. He found it hard to describe the scene when he met the Dursleys. It was his first time back since the wizarding world was exposed. He had only sent a letter before, but the Dursleys were clearly unhappy about it.

This discontent festered over time and finally erupted the moment he appeared. Uncle Vernon, like a bloated spring, yelled and questioned the Ministry of Magic about the purpose of casting spells in his house, saying that he hadn't slept well for a month. When Harry asked him why he hadn't asked when the Ministry of Magic staff were still around, Uncle Vernon looked like he wanted to rush over and hit him.

"This is to protect you. With this protection, the neighbors will still remember that you have a child who lives in a boarding school—" Harry paused, then said expressionlessly, "...nephew, but they'll subconsciously ignore my face and my name. That's why. Basically, all students from Muggle families receive this protection."

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia exchanged a glance. This answer clearly resolved a long-standing question in their minds: why had Harry attended the Queen's afternoon tea without any neighbors coming over to bother him? They sincerely prayed that their neighbors were dizzy with excitement—though the hope was slim, because their neighbors, like Aunt Petunia, had a natural keen sense for trendsetting topics and were willing to spend a great deal of time investigating the details.

Or perhaps the neighbors' attention was completely drawn to the wealthy wizard professor in charge? They were secretly relieved for a while because of this.

"So... you're willing to come back now? How long are you going to stay this time?" Uncle Fern asked angrily.

“I’m not back to live here,” Harry said. “I’m here to pack.” Aunt Petunia dropped her frying pan, the hard metal denting her favorite wooden floor. Dudley, who was on summer vacation, frowned, seemingly trying to figure out why Harry had to pack his things as soon as he got back.

Harry could almost hear Dudley's rusty brain working. Harry tried to avoid looking at him. If there was any new or interesting change in the family over the past few years, it was that Dudley seemed to have developed a tiny bit of interest in magic.

Uncle Vernon suddenly jumped up, startling everyone. He frowned and paced back and forth in the living room, occasionally scrutinizing Harry with a sharp and deep gaze, making one wonder if he had learned Legilimency.

"Is there anything else?" Harry asked impatiently as their eyes met again, making a move to leave.

"Don't leave yet, I still have something to ask!" Uncle Vernon said. Harry stopped and looked at him, but Uncle Vernon hesitated again, his expression constantly changing, which Harry found quite amusing. Finally, before he could choke on his own words, he spoke: "Is there going to be a war?"

"Finnon—" Aunt Penny shrieked.

"Don't interrupt, Penny," Vernon yelled. His face turned a deep purple.

Harry stared at him, unable to comprehend Uncle Vernon's current train of thought, even after eleven years of living together and spending several summers together.

Why would you think that?

"Otherwise, why did you suddenly decide to move?" Uncle Vernon said, his small eyes gleaming with cunning. "You must have known something beforehand, didn't you? The negotiations weren't going well, that's right—it was all in the newspapers, I should have known." He clenched his fist, his expression pained.

"Kid, we're your relatives, you can't run away alone!"

"You're wrong, that's not the reason," Harry said curtly.

"Why is that!?"

“I’m an adult now,” Harry said, feeling a sense of relief. “I’m an adult now,” he repeated, his voice rising slightly, “so I’m moving out of here. You won’t have to worry about me showing up at your house and causing gossip anymore. You’ll just have to put up with an owl card occasionally, around Christmas time…”

An eerie silence fell over the room.

"Well," Uncle Vernon muttered after a moment, "if that's the reason—"

"Wait, you're not an adult yet," Aunt Penny said in a shrewd tone honed from haggling in a store. "You're still a few days under."

"It doesn't matter anymore," Harry said.

He looked at Petunia, expecting her to say something more, but her lips were tightly pressed together. So Harry shrugged, went upstairs to pack his things, and came back down a little while later with a trunk containing traces of his life in the house. He glanced one last time at the Dursleys, who were looking at him with strange expressions, and Harry said softly, "Goodbye," before walking toward the door.

His hand was on the doorknob. The sunlight streaming through the window was a bit dazzling. Suddenly, he heard the creaking of a sofa behind him, as if a giant beast was awakening from its slumber. Then came the sound of footsteps. Harry slowly turned around. Dudley was standing in front of him, hesitantly extending a hand.

"Are those spellbooks really that powerful?" Harry looked at him in surprise.

"I don't know," Dudley whispered. "Goodbye, Harry."

"Okay." Harry shook Dudley's hand. "Goodbye, Dudley."

Seeing Dudley force a smile, Harry suddenly had an idea that, after swirling in his mind, became incredibly tempting. He knew these words would provoke a fierce reaction from Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, but he couldn't resist saying, half-jokingly and half-seriously:

"Hey, D-bro, if you don't find a satisfactory job in the future, you could consider selling magical goods for ordinary people. What if your future children are wizards? We share some of our blood, so we can't rule out that possibility..."

"Shut up, boy!" Uncle Vernon roared angrily. "How dare you—" came Aunt Petunia's voice. Harry opened the door to number four Privet Drive to the cheerful background music, sunlight streaming in and falling on his face. He turned and shouted, "Oh, and Dudley, I left something somewhere we all know. You might like it!"

The room erupted in chaos again. Harry closed the door and walked toward Sirius Black, who was waiting at the crossroads, smiling at him.

"Is this your farewell ceremony?" Fred and George asked with interest, leaning against the fence without any intention of helping. In their words, they had finally completed their assigned task and were now taking a break. They happened to pass by when they were looking for Cedric and saw two oddly shaped buttocks through the fence, so they came over to investigate.

"What brilliant ideas do you have?" Harry said irritably. The twins raised their hands in surrender, and the corner of the rags in their hands drooped down, shaking off dust that made it impossible to open one's eyes. Harry was choked and stepped back, while Ron was unfortunately hit and cursed loudly.

"Watch your mouth," Mrs. Weasley said, coming over at the sound of the voice and overhearing Ron's words. "If I hear that again, I'll glue your mouth shut—and you two!" She put her hands on her hips and asked the twins, "Are the chairs all wiped clean?"

"All done," Fred said, waving the rag in his hand.

Mrs. Weasley covered her nose and backed away, looking at them suspiciously. "You can resist using magic? Where are the flowers?"

"It's all set. We searched the whole neighborhood for it," George said with a sigh. The four watched Mrs. Weasley leave, and he added quietly, "We really did search the whole neighborhood until we found a flower shop in town."

Harry looked up in astonishment. "How did you manage to get the shopkeeper to agree to sell you the flowers? You have money?" He was obviously referring to Muggle coins.

"Oh, the shopkeeper is a pretty young girl, easily persuaded, so we decided to use our silver tongues—" Fred said.

"In the end, I traded a bag of snacks from the Magic House for enough flowers," George said.

"What's that?" Ron's eyes widened.

"Is there any danger?" Harry asked worriedly.

"Don't worry, these are all just things that have temporarily passed the review," Fred said. "You should trust our judgment—"

"Or Percy's perspective," George said.

"Anyway, we lied and said we found a package left behind by a wizard. Inside were some multi-flavored fruits, floating fruit syrup, vodka, crème brûlée, vampire pudding, canary cookies, sticky lollipops..." Fred counted on his fingers.

"In short, they're all harmless things that enhance friendship," George concluded.

After the two left, Harry turned to Ron and asked, "What's Vodi?" He didn't like the name at all.

"The thing they invented that most resembles Muggle food is supposedly inspired by Voldemort," Ron explained. "It has alternating sweet and bitter flavors on a single candy bean, so you can imagine it being sweet one second and terribly bitter the next... It's wrapped in thirteen layers."

Harry imagined it in his mind and couldn't help but shudder.

On the morning of the wedding, in the orchard behind the Burrow, Felix and Bill were ostensibly assigned to inspect the wedding venue, but in reality, they were taking a walk around the area. They saw Hagrid carrying two logs approaching from a distance, followed by the even larger and more imposing giant, Gropp, like some kind of ugly summoning creature.

“The wedding was in the afternoon, and Fleur was in the house doing a final check of the guest list,” Bill said. “She decided to do it herself, and also to pick up a few invitations she’d forgotten and hand them to them personally…” Seeing Felix’s look, he added, “Not only Hagrid’s brother, but Sirius also brought a list—all big shots. We didn’t dare tell Mom; she’s really on edge. You know, because of Fred and George’s suggestion.”

Felix's gaze flickered with a strange light—well, just last night at Harry's birthday party, Fred and George suggested that Gropp steal Fleur away at the wedding, and that the groom, Bill, must play the role of the hero to win back his bride in order to demonstrate his bravery.

Just like some ancient wizards who personally captured evil dragons.

Mrs. Weasley naturally rejected the suggestion without hesitation, and threatened with her eyes that if the two brothers dared to say another word on the topic, she would turn them into welcoming statues at the door.

The newly arrived Delacour couple were quite intrigued by this imagined heroic spectacle, but when Ginny pointed out the giant temporarily residing in the orchard through the window, they were stunned into silence.

(End of this chapter)