Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

At the table, no one but Dudley focused on the poor grapefruit in front of him.

Harry ate very slowly, thinking of the delicious cakes in his head.

A few seconds later, Dudley had finished his own grapefruit quarter.

He was eyeing Harry’s with a look of hatred in his piggy little eyes.

Harry didn’t plan to provoke Dudley. He was willing to speed up eating his measly grapefruit quarter, and then go back upstairs and enjoy a delicious cake, while waiting for Evan’s reply.

But contrary to expectations, the track of events quickly turned south!!

When Hedwig flew into Harry’s room with Evan’s reply, there was an unprecedented storm downstairs.

Uncle Vernon’s roar almost lifted the floor. Hedwig stared with its amber eyes and jumped uneasily.

Over the past three years, it had become familiar with such roars and curses.

It knew that its young master, Harry, must have made another mistake, which upset the Dursleys!

In fact, Harry was puzzled, looking at them politely, not knowing what was going on.

Uncle Vernon just got up and went to the door to get a letter delivered by the “normal” Muggle postman.

Obviously, this letter was not ordinary and was very unusual.

First of all, the letter was full of things that Muggles couldn’t understand.

Every bit of it was covered in stamps except for a square inch on the front, into which Mrs. Weasley had squeezed the Dursleys’ address in minute writing.

Uncle Vernon waved the letter and growled at Harry. “Look at this!”

Harry took the purple letter paper and glanced at it.

It was a letter from Mrs. Weasley inviting him to watch the upcoming Quidditch World Cup.

And she expected him to be able to stay in the Burrow for the next two weeks until the end of the summer vacation.

It was awesome. That was exactly what Harry needed, not the same summer life. He couldn’t wait to leave the Dursleys right away.

He wanted to go back to the wizarding world and be with his friends, to go back to watch the Quidditch World Cup finals, and on their way, go visit Sirius.

Harry had been worried sick about his injuries all the time.

In addition, Harry also wanted to personally ask Evan about their adventures during the summer vacation.

There were so many things waiting for him to do, he couldn’t stay here any longer.

But Harry didn’t lose his mind. Under Uncle Vernon’s glare, he tried to put on a childish look.

He told himself that if he didn’t do or say anything stupid, he could go to the once-in-a-century major event.

“Then…can I go then?” he asked carefully.

A slight spasm crossed Uncle Vernon’s large purple face, and the moustache bristled.

Harry felt as if he could see what was going on behind the moustache.

In the mind of Vernon, two of his most fundamental instincts came into conflict.

Allowing Harry to go to watch the game would make Harry happy, something Uncle Vernon had struggled against for thirteen years.

On the other hand, allowing Harry to go to the Weasleys home for the rest of the summer vacation would get rid of him two weeks earlier than anyone could have hoped, and Uncle Vernon hated having Harry in the house.

To give himself thinking time, it seemed, Uncle Vernon looked down at Mrs. Weasley’s letter again.

“Who is this woman?” he asked disgustedly, staring dead at the signature of Mrs. Weasley on the letter.

“You’ve seen her!” said Harry. “She’s my friend Ron’s mother; she was meeting him off the Hog… off the school train at the end of last term.”

Harry had almost said “Hogwarts Express “, and that was a sure way to get his uncle’s temper up.

Nobody ever mentioned the name of Harry’s school aloud in the Dursley household.

The only exception was probably the summer vacation when Evan visited two years ago.

Vernon’s uncle’s fat face wrinkled into a ball, seemingly desperately recalling a very unpleasant event.

“Dumpy sort of woman?” he growled finally, “Load of children with red hair?”

Harry frowned. He thought it was a bit ridiculous of Uncle Vernon to call anyone “dumpy,” when his own son had become wider than he was tall.

“Quidditch?!” Uncle Vernon was perusing the letter again, muttering under his breath. “Quidditch, what is this rubbish?”

“It’s a sport!” Harry felt a little more annoyed, “played on broom…”

“All right, all right!” said Uncle Vernon loudly.

Harry saw, with some satisfaction, that his uncle looked vaguely panicky.

Apparently, his nerves couldn’t stand the sound of the word “broomsticks” in his living room.

He took refuge in perusing the letter again.

“Send us your answer… in the normal way.” He asked sharply, “What does she mean by ‘the normal way’?!”

“Normal way for us!” said Harry, and before his uncle could stop him, he went on to say, “You know, send owls to deliver letters. That’s what wizards normally do.”

Uncle Vernon looked as outraged as if Harry had uttered a disgusting swear word.

Shaking with anger, he shot a nervous look through the window, as though expecting to see some of the neighbours with their ears pressed against the glass.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to mention these strange things in my house?” He gritted his teeth and said, his face rose purple, “You stand here, in the clothes Petunia and I gave you, but you don’t know how to be grateful!”

“Those clothes were given to me after Dudley had finished with them!” said Harry coldly. He had had enough, and his impulse to leave the Dursley family had re-emerged.

Looking at his oversized, terrible sportswear, his anger was rising.

Harry was gasping for breath. He wasn’t going to stand this any longer.

Gone were the days when he had been forced to take every single one of the Dursleys’ stupid rules.

He wasn’t following Dudley’s diet, and he wasn’t going to let Uncle Vernon stop him from going to the Quidditch World Cup.

“My good friends, Evan, Ron and Hermione, are all going back to the World Cup!” Harry took a deep breath and tried to speak in a calm voice.

“Evan?!” Vernon’s face turned redder. It was like a ripe plum. “The Mason boy, I don’t know how a good man like Mr. Mason can tolerate his son.”

Mr. Mason’s construction company was now Uncle Vernon’s biggest business partner and he didn’t want to offend him.

Although he had a negative attitude towards Evan, it did not prevent him from making contact with Evan.

Anyway, it was good for him. This was the only place where Harry could come in handy.

He didn’t know how many times he had talked to Mr. Mason about the subject and promised to let Harry take care of Evan at school.

Uncle Vernon wavered. Now since the Mason kid was going to the stupid World Cup, Harry seemed to have to go, too.

“Of course, if you don’t let me go, then can I go back to my room?!” Harry stabilized his emotions and continued, “I am going to write to Sirius, you know, he is my godfather.”

“You’re, you’re writing to him, are you?” Uncle Vernon said, trying to keep his voice calm.

But Harry had seen the pupils of his tiny eyes contract with sudden fear.

Uncle Vernon remembered Sirius, the very dangerous jailbreak murderer mentioned on TV.

Before the summer vacation, Sirius wrote a letter to them.

The letter warned them not to bully Harry, otherwise the consequences…

Seeing Vernon’s expression, Harry knew that he was successful, and he could leave here right away and return to the wizarding world.