That scream—laced with panic and despair, despair and a mental breakdown, and a breakdown filled with utter disbelief—scared Dudley so much that his bottom slipped, and he fell straight onto the floor.
The potato chips he was hugging spilled everywhere, flipping over and landing on his head.
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, who had been equally startled, jumped up abruptly.
"What are you doing in there!"
Just as Uncle Vernon roared, Aunt Petunia reached out and grabbed his arm.
"That didn't sound right, Vernon."
Aunt Petunia's face held a trace of nervousness. She hurried forward a few steps, stopping outside the bathroom door. The sound of running water inside had ceased. Although the sounds of weeping and sobbing weren't loud, they could be clearly heard. Uncle Vernon was preparing to reach out and bang on the door, but his arm was held back.
"Listen."
Aunt Petunia whispered. Uncle Vernon turned his body with some difficulty and cocked his ear to listen for a few seconds.
A look of astonishment appeared on his face. Although that brat Harry was good at causing trouble, he had almost never seen Harry cry. At least, not in front of them. Even when he was being chased by Dudley and his gang of fox-and-dog friends, hunted like a dog, he had never been seen shedding tears.
"Boy?"
Uncle Vernon lowered his voice. "What are you doing in there?"
There was no answer from Harry, only the sobbing from earlier stopped.
"I'll talk to him, Vernon." Aunt Petunia signaled with her eyes for Uncle Vernon to back away.
"Harry..." It had been a long time since she had called out that name. Ever since that year Harry Potter had somehow climbed onto the school roof and caused her massive trouble, she had become increasingly severe with him. She loathed such abnormal occurrences, but if one traced it to the source, behind that loathing lay a sliver of emotion named jealousy.
Petunia was jealous of her younger sister, jealous of Lily, because her sister could go and learn that mysterious, miraculous magic, while she could not.
But at this moment, Aunt Petunia was, in the end, somewhat worried about Harry hiding in the bathroom. That scream, harbouring so much emotion, made her feel uneasy. No matter what, Harry was her sister's son, her only son.
Otherwise, Petunia wouldn't have risked being found by the wizarding world's terrorists—the remnants of the Death Eaters—to adopt Harry. The reason she feared Harry showing abnormalities was that she didn't want her whole family to be implicated because of it. Her excessive harshness toward Harry also stemmed from this reason: it was to protect her own home, and also to protect Harry himself.
"Harry, what on earth is the matter?"
Petunia's hand reached for the bathroom doorknob. The bathroom door on the first floor couldn't be locked, but they generally didn't use it, so they hadn't bothered to fix the lock. Getting a workman in was expensive, and Uncle Vernon didn't have the skill.
"Don't... don't come in! Don't come in!"
Just as she twisted the handle, Harry's voice came from behind the door. The trembling tone, filled with nervousness and panic, could not be faked, and this made Petunia even more uneasy.
"What exactly is happening? Tell Auntie, I'm right at the door."
Petunia spoke with a surprisingly gentle voice. Vaguely, she felt that Harry's voice seemed a bit off.
But through the door, voices were naturally a bit distorted.
"Did something happen to you? Did you fall and hurt yourself? Or what?"
"Is it an electric shock?"
She asked nervously, gripping the doorknob tighter.
But after a long time, Petunia received no response.
"Harry?"
Petunia called out again. Then, gritting her teeth, she twisted the handle hard and pulled open the bathroom door. White mist carrying water vapor surged out, but because some time had passed, the mist was only a faint layer. However, the moment she saw the scene inside—
Petunia immediately shut the door, turned around like lightning, and slapped Dudley, who was peering in from the doorway!
"What are you looking at!"
She spoke fiercely. Dudley, who had been about to cry from the grievance of being slapped by his mom, immediately sucked his tears back in. His experience told him that his mom in this state would absolutely not tolerate his tantrums. The slap on his head was full of force, and her gaze was as majestic and awe-inspiring as a tigress; it was truly terrifying.
"Go back to your room! Dudley! You too, Vernon!"
The thin and weak Aunt Petunia now possessed the unquestionable authority of the head of the house. Under her imposing power, Dudley and Uncle Vernon trembled. They practically flew up the stairs, diving into their respective rooms and not daring to use any force when closing the doors.
"It's okay, Li... Harry, I've chased them all upstairs. Auntie is right outside, just wait, wait a moment for me."
Today, Petunia seemed to have retrieved all the gentleness she once had. The voice was still familiar, yet the softness within it was distinctly different from the past.
She took the stairs two at a time, pulling open the door to her and Vernon's bedroom.
"What is going on? Petunia."
Uncle Vernon asked cautiously, but Aunt Petunia ignored him completely, simply rummaging rapidly through the wardrobe. Only when she was heading out did she coldly drop a sentence: "Now, immediately, Dursley, you clear out that room on the second floor. Make Dudley help too; his toys should be in his own room."
"What?" Uncle Vernon was stunned, looking at Petunia in disbelief.
"Do I need to say it a second time?"
Aunt Petunia turned around clutching clothes, her gaze like a knife.
"No need, I'm going right now, immediately!"
"Remember, without my permission, neither of you is allowed downstairs, do you hear me?"
"Yes sir!"
Uncle Vernon gave a crooked salute, then scrambled up to obey.
In less than half a minute, Petunia returned to the door of the first-floor bathroom. She knocked lightly, then said, "Harry, it's alright. Auntie is at the door. I brought you an outfit... clothes. I think... they should fit."
"Don't be afraid, and don't worry. I'm here."
After waiting a moment, Petunia gently pushed the door open and stepped into the still-damp bathroom.
The hair plastered to Harry by the water was longer than usual, long enough to drape over shoulders. Wet and sticky, it clung to Harry's face and shoulders. At this moment, huddling in the corner of the bathroom, perhaps because of a cold draft blowing in, Harry shivered, and fine goosebumps constantly rose on the skin.
But in the instant Harry looked up, Petunia froze once again. She stared straight at Harry, and her eye rims turned red in an instant.
Harry's eyes, as green and translucent as a lake, held a trace of tears. If not for the hair color not being deep red, the upward glance at this moment bore a one-hundred-percent resemblance to someone buried deepest in Petunia's memories.
"Li... Lily..."
Petunia said the name with a tremble, slowly reaching out her hand and letting it land gently on Harry's head.
"If it were really you... how good that would be..."
Bean-sized tears slid down Petunia's cheeks, splashing into tiny droplets.
"I really miss you, Big Sister really misses you..."
Warm tears fell onto Harry's shoulder. Upon feeling that warmth, Harry realized he was being gently embraced by Aunt Petunia. She was crying uncontrollably; Harry had never seen Aunt Petunia lose her composure like this.
After a long while, the sound of a sneeze from catching a cold pulled Petunia out of her past memories. She stood up in a bit of a panic, stumbling half a step back, but thankfully steadied herself against the wall without falling. Harry hurriedly reached out, momentarily forgetting to cover his body.
Just then, the two froze again, looking at each other.
"Harry?" Petunia asked uncertainly. Even though she had already... seeing it clearly now, she still found it somewhat hard to believe. "Or... Harley?"
Now it was Harry's turn to be tear-streaked. The scream he had let out earlier was because—when he looked down, "Little Harry" was gone.
And on his chest, there was now the swelling curve of a rise.
[Gender-Swapping Cookie~]
This was the name of the cookie Harry had eaten earlier. Its ability was exactly as the name suggested: to switch a person's gender. If one wanted to change back, they would need to eat another cookie.
It was also at this moment, seeing the unprecedented tenderness of Aunt Petunia, that Harry understood exactly what price he was going to pay right now.