Mr. and Mrs. Dursley had a nine-year-old son named Dudley, who, in their opinion, was the most wonderful child in the world.
They also had under their care their nephew Harry, the son of Petunia Dursley's sister. They considered the boy just as abnormal as his deceased parents.
The Dursleys had everything one could possibly wish for. But they had one secret. More than anything in the world, they feared that someone might discover it. They could scarcely imagine what would happen to them if the truth ever came to light.
When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on Saturday morning, it was dull and gray—and nothing, not even the snow-covered street outside, hinted that anything unusual was about to occur.
Mr. Dursley hummed softly to himself as he tied the most hideous of his ties. He was planning to visit a shop, buy himself a bottle of whiskey, and for once relax after a long, exhausting workweek.
Mrs. Dursley, having finally forced a resisting Dudley—who resembled a well-fed piglet—into his chair, cheerfully recounted the latest gossip to her husband.
Harry, a small, skinny boy wearing one of Dudley's shirts—which hung on him like a sack—and oversized jeans rolled up at the cuffs and cinched with a long belt wrapped almost twice around his waist, silently and quickly ate his breakfast. He tried to finish everything before Dudley threw one of his usual tantrums, during which he would sweep everything off the table or flip it over entirely.
Harry was the same age as his cousin. He wore round glasses, and his forehead bore a lightning-shaped scar.
No one except Harry noticed the procession of cars forming outside the house.
At half past eight, completely unexpected by the Dursleys, the doorbell rang.
Mr. Dursley straightened his tie and went to answer the door. Flinging it open sharply, he shouted,
"We're not buying anything! Get lost!"
Realizing whom he had yelled at, Mr. Dursley froze. It was a constable—and behind him, a large group of people.
Harry quickly finished his breakfast and ran into the living room. The curious Dudley had reached it even sooner. Petunia, with her irrepressible nosiness, found herself beside her husband before either of the children.
"I—I'm sorry, sir," Mr. Dursley bleated. "I didn't realize that… And what is this about, uh…"
Mr. Dursley cast a frightened glance over the assembled crowd.
Slipping past the adults came a small blond boy. He carried himself with the dignity of a lord.
"Lord Richard Grosvenor," he introduced himself in a dry voice filled with strength and authority. Richie had learned to speak in such a tone during negotiations with business partners so that they would take him seriously. "Heir to the Duke of Westminster and the Grosvenor Group corporation. Owner of Grosvenor Junior. Godson of Prince Charles. And, to make the seriousness of this clear, the Queen herself asked me to call her Grandma Liz."
After these words, Vernon and Petunia Dursley looked as though they had been struck by lightning. A child no older than their own son stood before them, yet they perceived him as a lord. The constable at his side and the prim, dignified-looking butler only reinforced that impression.
Mr. and Mrs. Dursley had never expected a visit from such an influential person in Little Whinging.
"S-sir… You have no idea how honored I am by your visit," Mr. Dursley fawned.
Harry studied the young lord with curiosity, thinking,
I wish I could be like that! I wish Uncle Vernon spoke to me that respectfully. And he's not even older than I am.
Richard said in a haughty tone,
"Mr. Dursley, I suspect you will not be quite so pleased when you learn the purpose of our visit."
"Y-yes, sir… Lord? What have we done to deserve… uh… such an exalted Lord visiting our very ordinary family?"
Vernon was genuinely rattled.
"I have decided to engage in charity," Richard said curtly. "Helping orphans. And I have come for Harry Potter."
"The boy!" Vernon bellowed at the top of his lungs. "Get over here! Now!"
Me? Harry thought in astonishment. It can't be possible that an actual Lord came to see me!
Harry squeezed past Dudley, who jabbed him in the side with an elbow and whined in a tearful voice,
"Mom, why did the lord come to see that freak?"
"Dudley, shut up!" Petunia hissed through clenched teeth.
Mrs. Dursley went pale and, for the first time in her life, realized that her darling boy was not quite as perfect as she believed. Right now, in front of a lord and a constable, her son could land both her and her husband in prison. She gripped Dudley tightly by the shoulder and clamped her other hand over his mouth.
Dudley kicked his mother in the shin—and, unexpectedly, received a sharp smack on the back of the head. He was so stunned by the fact that he had been hit that he froze on the spot.
At that moment, Richard was staring at the orphaned boy in amazement. His gaze lingered on the lightning-shaped scar and the rounв glasses.
"Ha! Just like in that holo-movie!" Richie blurted out. "Wait a second… DAMN IT!!!"
(End of Chapter)
P@treon: /SadRaven
🥳Joining P@treon keeps me motivated and eager to work diligently, so please consider joining.🥰