Chapter 244: Passionate Dudley
Lately, Harry Potter had been feeling strange.
Normally, Ron or Draco should have sent him a letter long ago, but there was nothing.
Even the letters promised by his fan brother Alexander Smith and Neville had not arrived.
Most surprising of all, the gift from his godfather hadn't shown up either.
Yes—gifts.
Sirius wasn't the sort of parent figure who didn't know how to talk to his children and just kept writing letters. Instead, Harry usually received gifts almost every few days. That habit nearly made Dudley, who had recently turned over a new leaf, return to his old jealous self.
"Harry, on my birthday before, you managed to resist using your magic to finish me off," Dudley sighed when he saw Harry's latest gift.
But now even Sirius's gifts had stopped.
This made Harry suspicious. He rifled through the bag Draco's father had given him—enchanted with the Invisible Stretching Charm—and counted Sirius's presents inside. Only four remained: the newest Nimbus 2001, a Golden Snitch model, the complete collector's edition of Doraemon, and a genuine Bamboo Dragonfly from the Skywalker Alchemy Workshop.
Something was wrong. Sirius had promised to make up for all the missed birthdays Harry never properly had. Sirius had been involved since his very first birthday, and not counting the one at the end of the previous month, there should still have been thirty-one more gifts waiting.
All of this made Harry lose interest in even Doraemon. Being in a Muggle neighborhood meant he couldn't use the bamboo dragonflies outdoors. Without the ability to practice magic, he felt like he was going stir-crazy.
But more than boredom, Harry was lonely. His cousin Dudley, despite being a wizard now as well, had little in common with him.
He missed Hogwarts so much it physically hurt.
He longed for the castle, the secret passages and ghosts, the excitement of classes, the owls bringing letters, the feasts in the Great Hall, the four-poster bed in his dormitory, the little hut at the edge of the Forbidden Forest—and Hagrid, the gamekeeper.
As for why Sirius and his friends weren't at the top of his mind, it was because Harry suspected they were behind this whole situation. It felt like one of their pranks.
He still remembered when he had first met Sirius after the Quidditch final, and Professor McGonagall had jokingly told him to check his father and Sirius's disciplinary records.
When Harry did, he had been completely stunned.
He'd never imagined his father and Sirius were so…active. Detentions and point deductions seemed to happen almost daily, and their names were constantly listed alongside Remus Lupin, the traitor Peter Pettigrew, and, of course, Professor Snape.
Remus had clearly been a close friend. Pettigrew—Harry still felt sick even seeing the name. And Snape… well, that explained why their "records" mostly consisted of fights.
If the Heads of Slytherin and Gryffindor hadn't gone out of their way to add points, Harry suspected Gryffindor would have ended the year with a negative score.
That was also Ravenclaw's golden age. Because of the constant battles between Gryffindor and Slytherin, Ravenclaw often emerged victorious in the House Cup.
No wonder Professor Flitwick always seemed a little smug when Snape's name came up.
All in all, Sirius was like an enhanced version of Fred Weasley—except Fred's pranks leaned more cruel, while George usually played the moderating role.
Now, Harry had every reason to believe his godfather had teamed up with his friends to give him a massive surprise for his birthday at the end of the month.
Everything happening now was just part of their plot: making Harry think he'd been abandoned by the wizarding world and cut off from all communication.
And this wasn't just paranoia. He had evidence.
First, the Daily Prophet had stopped arriving.
Ever since Sirius became the new owner of the paper, Harry had placed an extra deposit to have it mailed by owl. The Prophet was charmed with transformation spells so if news changed throughout the day, the text in the paper would change too. That made it practically two papers for the price of one.
Now even that was gone. Who else could stop it except Sirius?
Second, Ron.
Even if Ron had gotten so caught up in summer fun that he forgot to write, Harry had once given him an extra Nimbus 2000 as a gift. Ron had promised to treasure it in place of Christmas gifts for the next three years. There was no way Ron had forgotten something like that.
Third, the auto-reply letters.
Harry had sent many letters with the help of Seaweed the owl, some of which should have triggered automatic responses—like the after-sales service at Skywalker Workshop.
But nothing had returned. The only explanation was that his letters had never been delivered.
And if Seaweed wasn't injured, then someone familiar with him had blocked it.
Which left only one conclusion: the birthday party at the end of the month was going to be grand. Not just Ron, Draco, and Sirius—maybe even Alexander, Neville, and other students would attend.
Harry even suspected now that the "July 21st" pickup date Sirius had mentioned earlier was fake. To make the prank more convincing, they might not come until the very end of the month.
And so, with feelings of pain mixed with anticipation, July dragged on.
On the 18th, seventeen days after the supposed pickup date, Privet Drive was sweltering.
The neat square houses shimmered in the heat, the shiny cars sat dusty in their driveways, and the once-green lawns were now yellow and brittle under drought restrictions.
The residents of Privet Drive, usually busy with car washing and lawn mowing, now had nothing to do but hide in their homes with wide-open windows, hoping in vain for a breeze.
Harry lay flat in the flowerbed outside Number Four, hidden behind a large hydrangea bush.
Not because he was in trouble or being punished.
But because he wanted to avoid the strange enthusiasm coming from his cousin Dudley.
Thanks to Sirius and the others' prank, Dudley thought nobody cared about Harry anymore.
So Dudley, grinning awkwardly, had been showering Harry with attention.
"Want some more bacon? You're skin and bones."
"Harry, there's someone nice in my room, you wanna—"
"Harry, should I drag Piers over here and give him a beating for you? Just say the word!"
What unsettled Harry most was that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, who he had expected to complain about Dudley's behavior, were quietly approving of it.
Harry could sort of understand Aunt Petunia. From her past confessions, it wasn't that she didn't care about him—it was jealousy of the magic he and her sister had.
But Uncle Vernon's attitude was baffling. He wasn't usually one to back down, especially where Harry was concerned. Could it be that he'd realized Sirius was not only rich, but the owner of the biggest newspaper in Britain?
Harry sighed. Whatever the reason, this summer was proving stranger than ever.
(End of this chapter)
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