United Kingdom - London

Small gold area

On a night filled with faint mist, there is no starlight and moon.

Late at night, everything is silent. Two rows of two-story houses on the street are no longer visible. Only street lights emit a faint light, barking the road. Occasionally, the barking of dogs sounds from afar.

PRIVET.DRIVE (Livervet Road)

A tan owl stands on a roadside sign, flapping its wings and flying into the woods low.

The sound of footsteps trampling on the branches rang out from the woods, walking from far to near. This was an old man with white hair and a snow-white beard, wearing a brown robe and a wizard's hat. His long beard drooped on his chest and reading glasses were mounted on his nose.

The weirdly dressed old man stood at the end of the street and took out a cylindrical object that looked like a lighter from his robe.

I saw the old man holding the light-out machine and pointing at the street light from a distance, a spot of light flew over and fell into the mouth of the light-out machine bottle. The street light was completely extinguished.

This is a gadget invented by the old man himself, called a light-out device. It can absorb light and store it.

The old man took the lights of the other street lights into the light-out device one after another. When the last street light was turned off, a cat's meow suddenly sounded under his feet.

The old man looked down at the cat.

"I should have thought of meeting you here. Professor McGonagall."

An amazing scene happened, and the cat's body changed and turned into a figure.

"Good evening, Professor Dumbledore." The figure transformed by the cat turned into an old woman. Her dress was exactly the same as the old man, with a black robe and a wide wizard hat, a pointed chin and a wrinkled old face, which looked like the image of an evil witch in the animation.

She stepped forward and greeted her a few steps and followed the old man forward.

Professor McGonagall said: "Is the rumors true? Albus."

"I think it's true, professor. There's good news and bad news."

"Where is that boy?" Professor McGonagall asked.

Dumbledore said: "Hagin will bring him here."

"Do you think it's wise to leave such a big thing to Hager?" Obviously, this "witch" does not trust Hager in the old man's mouth.

"Professor, I can hand over my life to Hagrid." Dumbledore's tone was simple, but the trust was about to emerge.

At this time, they stopped and looked back at the sky.

A large ball of light came straight towards the two old men, and the sound of motorcycles sounded from it.

The light ball kept falling and approaching, getting closer, and the sound became clearer. It was the roar of the motorcycle's motor.

A motorcycle actually flew from a distance and landed on the ground, pulling out a long tire mark.

"Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall." The figure on the motorcycle moved away from the windshield and said to the two old men. Hagrid had long, thick curly hair and curly beards that almost covered the entire cheek. He stepped down the motorcycle, and his huge body shape was highlighted at this moment, and it was visually at least two meters.

"I haven't had any trouble, right?" Dumbledore asked worriedly, as if he was worried about something.

"No sir. The little guy fell asleep when he flew to Bristol." Hagrid walked around the flying motorcycle and stood in front of the two professors. He handed the baby in his arms to Dumbledore. "Be careful not to disturb him."

Dumbledore and McGonagall quickly took the child. Dumbledore held him in his arms and turned around toward a two-story residence.

"Do you think it's better to hand over the child to someone else?" Professor McGonagall followed closely and said with some concern. It seems that her heart is not as harsh as she looks.

"I have been here for a whole day and I am simply a group of hopeless muggles. They are really..." Recalling what I saw during the day, McGonagall was full of disdain.

"That was the only relative of the child in the world. Dumbledore stood at the door of the residence and said to Professor McGonagall word by word.

McGonagall stopped refuting, looking at the baby's face and said, "This child will be very famous in the future. Every child in our world will know his name."

"Totally right." Dumbledore said, looking at the cute face of the baby sleeping in his arms. "So it's better to keep him away from these when he grows up until he's ready."

A few sobs sounded behind him, and Dumbledore looked back at Hagrid, wiping her tears.

The old man sighed softly, and he showed reluctance in his turbid eyes. He gently placed the baby at the door, and then said to Haig, who was almost in tears: "Okay, okay, Haig. It's not that he will never see each other again."

After saying that, Dumbledore placed an envelope next to the baby, which read the Dursleys and his wife.

"Good luck." Dumbledore looked at the baby's exposed face. There was a wound on his right forehead, like a erect Z, or a lightning symbol.

"Harry Potter."

...

"Get up! Get up!" Early in the morning, a woman in a pink sweater kept knocking on the cabinet door under the stairs. She didn't leave her words until she was sure that the person inside woke up.

"hurry up!"

A pretty boy, who was eleven or twelve years old, got up from the floor, turned around and pulled the desk lamp, picked up his glasses and put them on.

This is an extremely small cabinet, and only the size of the child can lie down inside.

A series of footsteps sounded from the stairs above. This was a fat boy, but he was twelve or twelve years old. He ran down the stairs, and then seemed to think of something. He returned to several steps, and then stepped on the stairs with a malicious smile.

Puff—Puff—

The entire cabinet was shaking, and dust fell from above on the little boy's soft hair.

"Wake up, cousin! We're going to the zoo!"

The fat boy laughed and ran down the stairs, pressed the little boy's head who had just pushed out the door, pushed him back, kicked him back to the door, and ran into the living room by himself.

"Our little birthday boy is here."

"Happy birthday son."

The fat boy's parents, the woman in front of him, said to him intimately with a short and fat man sitting at the dining table spreading out the newspaper.

The little boy wearing glasses rubbed his painful head and walked in.

"Go and cook breakfast quickly, don't burn things." The woman in pink rubbed her nose with her son. When she saw the little boy coming in, she immediately changed her face and ordered with disgust.

"Yes, Aunt Penny." The little boy seemed to be used to it, so he naturally walked to the kitchen and picked up the spatula.

Penny smiled again, covered her son's eyes, led him to the dining table, singing strange songs.

"I hope everything goes well today. This is our Dali's day."

"Quick, give me coffee Harry." The short and fat man at the dining table urged impatiently.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon." The little boy struggled to pour the bacon in the pot into the plate.

On the other side, Aunt Penny moved her hand away to let the fat boy see the dazzling array of gift boxes piled on the table.

“Isn’t it great, my dear ~”

On the contrary, the fat boy did not show much joy, but turned around to look at his mother, questioning: "How many are there in total?"

"Thirty-six, I counted myself." Vernon put down a newspaper and spoke intimately.

"Thirty-six?! But last year there were thirty-seven!" the fat boy shouted to his father angrily. In sharp contrast, he was a well-behaved Harry who filled the coffee cup on the side.

"But some gifts are a little bigger than last year's." Vernon smiled and was shouted by his son, and he showed no sign of being angry at all.

"I care how old he is!" The fat boy Dali shouted unyieldingly.

"As soon as we go out, I'll go buy two more gifts for you, okay? Xiao Guai." The mother quickly squatted down to comfort her son and coaxed him. The fat boy gave up.

...

For Harry, today was a very strange life. He went to the zoo with his aunt and cousin, but Harry unexpectedly found that he could talk to the python.

But for Uncle Vernon, Aunt Penny and Fat Boy Dali, today was a terrible one. Especially her son, who was not only soaked all over, but was also frightened by a python.

Uncle Vernon knew that all this was done by little Harry. So as soon as he got home, he locked him into the cabinet.

"There is no magic in the world!" Vernon said to Little Harry through the door. The latter didn't understand what he meant. For Little Harry, talking to the snake is not magical, right? At most...

Is this magic? Little Harry, who was locked in a cupboard, asked himself.

A few days later.

Another unusual day.

When collecting the envelope this morning, Harry found that there was actually a letter to himself.

Cousin Dali, who had always enjoyed Harry, certainly would not let Harry go. He snatched the letter and handed it to his father.

Uncle Vernon just glanced at the sender's signature, and his expression became extremely ugly and tore it off. Harry was very curious about this, but he could not do anything about it.

Unexpectedly, repeated scenes continued to happen, and every morning, envelopes would be thrown from the door of the door into the entrance. Harry had no chance to read the letter. The only thing he saw was that Vernon nailed the letter on the door with a wooden board, and then threw the letters to himself into the fireplace, burning wildly.

Harry didn't understand why his uncle did this, and what exactly was in the letter?

Until Sunday comes.

"What a good day on Sunday." The living room was a little dim because of the curtains. Uncle Vernon sat on the sofa and enjoyed Harry's service of serving tea and water.

"I think it's the best day of the week, do you know why? Dali."

"Because I don't send a letter this week?" Dali said he didn't know, and Harry answered for him.

"Harry right." Uncle Vernon took the cookies from Harry's plate. His hair was messy and he didn't look good.

"No letters will be delivered on Sunday, ha..."

An owl flew past the window, and only a shadow could be seen as blocking the curtains.

"There is no annoying letter today! No!" Uncle Vernon said to himself. Harry came to the window curiously and opened a corner of the curtain.

"No damn letter, no at all!"

The roof of the car, street lights, opposite roofs, telephone poles, and owls are everywhere. There are still continuous flying from the horizon.

"No, there is no annoying, damn..." Uncle Vernon, holding the cookie, said before he finished speaking, an envelope fell from the chimney and flew out of the fireplace, and hit his mouth, smashing the rest of the words.

Uncle Vernon froze his smile, and the cookies fell on the floor. The sound of paper rumbling and the vibration of the house made him cover his ears in pain.

boom!

Countless envelopes flew out of the fireplace and were flying all over the living room. The voyage, which was sealed by wooden boards, broke through again, and envelopes poured in one after another. Dali sat in his mother's arms in fear, shouting and screaming. Only little Harry jumped excitedly to get the envelopes.

"Give it to me, give it to me!" Uncle Vernon grabbed Harry and snatched the envelope in his hand.

"This is my letter! Let me go!" Harry struggled, but he was just an eleven or twelve-year-old boy. In terms of strength, he could not compare to his short and fat uncle.
Chapter completed!