HP Approaches the Magic World

In fact, Harry didn't pack his luggage at all.

Being rescued from the Dursleys after just two weeks was too wonderful to be true.

So he couldn't get rid of the doubt in his mind, always feeling that something would go wrong - his reply to Dumbledore was sent elsewhere, Dumbledore was delayed and couldn't come to pick him up, or the letter

It wasn't written by Dumbledore at all, it was a joke, a prank or a trap.

Harry would definitely not be able to bear it if he packed his luggage happily only to be disappointed in the end and had to take everything out of the box one by one.

His only move for the upcoming trip was to keep his snow-white owl Hedwig tightly in a cage.

The minute hand of the alarm clock pointed to twelve, and almost at the same time, the street light outside the window suddenly went out.

The sudden darkness woke Harry up like an alarm bell.

He quickly adjusted his glasses, moved his cheek away from the glass, put his nose against the window, and squinted at the sidewalk below.

A tall figure wearing a long cloak was walking along the garden path.

Harry jumped up as if he had received an electric shock, knocking over his chair.

He began to randomly grab everything within reach from the floor and throw it into the box.

As soon as he threw a set of robes, two magic books and a packet of shortbread across the room, the doorbell rang.

Uncle Vernon shouted from the living room downstairs: "What the hell, who's calling the door so late?"

Harry froze there, holding a brass telescope in one hand and a pair of sneakers in the other.

He had completely forgotten to tell the Dursleys that Dumbledore might be coming, and now feeling nervous and amused, he quickly climbed over the box and unscrewed the bedroom door, just in time to hear a deep voice say: "Good evening, I believe

You must be Mr. Dursley.

I believe Harry must have told you that I was coming to pick him up, right?"

Harry rushed down the stairs two steps at a time, and stopped suddenly when he was still a few steps away from the bottom. Long-term experience told him that he should try to keep a distance from his uncle at all times, and do not let his uncle's arms reach him.

.

Standing at the door was a tall and thin man with silver-white hair and beard hanging down to his waist.

He wore a pair of half-moon glasses on his aquiline nose, a black traveling cloak, and a pointed hat.

Vernon Dursley's beard was almost as thick as Dumbledore's, but it was black. He was wearing a purple-brown dressing gown and was staring blankly at the visitor, as if he couldn't believe his small pair of beards.

Everything the eyes see.

"Judging from your surprised and disbelieving look, Harry didn't tell you I was coming."

Dumbledore said cordially, "But let us assume that you have warmly invited me into your home.

With the current situation in turmoil, it would be unwise to linger too long at the door."

He quickly crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him.

"It's been a long time since I last came here."

Follow the official account: Follow and you will receive cash and coins!

Dumbledore looked at Uncle Vernon from his aquiline nose, "I must admit, your agapanthus is blooming very luxuriantly."

Mr. Dursley said nothing, but Harry believed he would soon be able to speak - after all, the veins in his temples were throbbing to the point of exploding.

But something about Dumbledore seemed to make him breathless for a moment. Maybe it was Dumbledore's striking wizarding temperament, maybe it was just that even Uncle Vernon could feel that he was difficult to breathe.

Show off your power in front of this man.

"Ah, good evening, Harry,"

Dumbledore looked at Harry from behind the half-moon glasses, with a very satisfied expression on his face, "Great, great."

This sentence seemed to awaken Uncle Vernon. It was obvious to him that he would never be able to reach an agreement with anyone who could look at Harry and say, "That's great."

"I didn't mean to be rude—"

He said, every syllable of his words dripping with rudeness.

"-However, we still encounter unexpected faux pas from time to time."

Dumbledore took over his words,

"Better say nothing, dear fellow, ah, this must be Petunia."

The kitchen door opened and there stood Harry's aunt, wearing rubber gloves and a housecoat over her dressing gown, apparently wiping down all the kitchen surfaces before going to bed as usual.

Now, her long horse face was full of horror.

"Albus Dumbledore."

When Dumbledore saw that Vernon did not introduce him, he said, "Of course, we communicated by letter."

Harry thought it was a bit funny to remind Petunia that Dumbledore had sent her a howling letter, but Aunt Petunia didn't object to the suggestion.

"This must be your son Dudley, right?"

Dudley poked his head out from the door of the living room at this time. His big yellow-haired head poked out of the collar of his striped pajamas, as if it didn't grow on his body.

His mouth opened wide because of surprise and fear.

Dumbledore waited for a moment, as if he wanted to hear what the Dursleys had to say, and when he saw that they continued to be silent, he smiled.

"Can we assume that you have invited me into your living room?"

When Dumbledore passed by Dudley, Dudley hurriedly stepped aside.

Harry jumped down the last few stairs and followed Dumbledore into the living room, still clutching his binoculars and sneakers.

Dumbledore sat down in the armchair closest to the fireplace, surveying everything in the room with good-natured interest, even though he looked completely out of tune with his surroundings.

"Shall we go, sir?" Harry asked anxiously.

"Let's go, of course we have to go, but there are a few things we need to discuss first."

Dumbledore said, "I think it would be best if we didn't talk about these things outside, so I'll have to disturb your aunt and uncle a little longer."

"What, you guys?"

Uncle Vernon also entered the living room, Petunia stood beside him, and Dudley hid timidly behind them.

"Yes," Dumbledore said shortly, "that's right."

He pulled out his wand so suddenly that Harry didn't see it clearly.

With a flick of the wand, the sofa rushed forward and hit the knees of the three Dursleys.

They couldn't stand up all of a sudden, they all fell down on the sofa and rolled into a ball.

With another wave of the magic wand, the sofa swung back to its original place.

"We might as well be a little more comfortable," Dumbledore said cheerfully.

He put his wand back into his pocket, and Harry saw that his hand was dry and black, as if the flesh on it had been burned dry.

"Sir - what happened?"