Chapter 4: Chapter 4: Madam, Compensation is Due
Garlic, onions, add some rosemary and butter, then wrap the lamb chops in tin foil...
Ding!
"Moon Jones, someone is looking for you in Privet Drive," Lucifer reminded.
Moon Jones nodded, placed the lamb chops on the fireplace rack, instructed Lucifer to watch the fire, and then went to the front door.
First, he glanced at Harry, who was working outside, wearing a smile that seemed like he was up to something.
Bang!
On Harry's side, he looked blankly at the suddenly closed door.
Huh?!
Of course, Moon Jones didn't care about what he was thinking. He turned the doorknob, redirecting the exit to Privet Drive, and then opened the door.
A slender, stern-faced woman stood outside, holding the chubby boy from earlier. The boy still had scratch marks on his face, looking all red-eyed, obviously having cried a lot.
Petunia saw the man opening the door and was first drawn to his face. All the prepared words vanished beneath those emotionless eyes.
"Hello, is there something?" Moon Jones asked.
Petunia took a deep breath and quickly said, "Sorry, I noticed you brought a child into the house. That's my nephew, and I need to talk to him."
Earlier, when Dursley was chased home by cats and dogs for no reason, she immediately sensed a connection to that thing.
That thing she hated to mention, the thing her family loathed to the bone.
That power, she knew only one person possessed.
So, fueled by her anger, she promptly came to the door to take Harry back and give him a proper punishment.
Just the thought of her precious Dudley's handsome face being messed up by that little brat made her furious.
"Oh, you're Harry's guardian, nice to meet you," Moon Jones nodded politely, with no intention of shaking hands or inviting them inside.
He continued, "I was actually planning to talk to you. I'm sorry to inform you that your nephew has damaged the carefully cultivated plants of mine. We should discuss compensation."
"What...what?" Petunia exclaimed.
"Yes, the flowers I planted there. The neighbors have probably seen them; they're very valuable. It's a rare species from the African nation of Taskell. It's also their national flower. I transplanted it here, and it cost me at least tens of thousands of pounds," Moon Jones explained.
"So, I want to talk to you or the head of your household about compensation," Moon Jones looked down at her with an unquestionable charm in his language.
"Taskell...national flower?" Petunia repeated in disbelief.
"Yes, the export of these flowers has been banned locally. This may be the only flower of its kind in the UK, and there won't be any more in the future. The preliminary estimate is around ten thousand pounds. If you don't believe me, we can go through legal procedures," Moon Jones said.
"What? This is impossible! We're not going to pay thousands of pounds for that idiot's mistake!" Petunia suddenly yelled.
"Sir, we refuse to make corresponding compensation. Frankly, he just lives in our house; we're not his parents!" Moon Jones frowned, clearly dissatisfied with such hysterical behavior.
After a while, he said with some resignation, "Well, well! Madam, let's find an alternative compensation method."
Petunia, with a flushed face, stared at Moon Jones, waiting for his next words. At the same time, she made a face as if she would immediately start a screaming alarm if there were conditions she couldn't accept.
"You know, I just moved in. Perhaps I need a handyman to do chores and errands for me. How about labor in lieu of compensation?" Moon Jones said helplessly.
Through Moon Jones's broad shoulders, Petunia could probably see the mess inside the house.
"Well...of course!" She thought for a moment, then nodded decisively, "This guy is a good handyman, absolutely beyond ordinary in household chores."
"At least for over a year," Moon Jones added calmly.
Petunia hesitated for a moment, then nodded, "Of course."
You see, in 1990s London, a handyman's monthly salary couldn't even reach a thousand pounds.
"I think a child's mistakes should be borne by himself. This will be the most valuable lesson in his life," Petunia quickly changed her expression, looking pleased.
"Okay." Moon Jones nodded calmly and added, "But I need to emphasize, a little kid shouldn't casually jump into my flowerbed and crush my things. Honestly, if it weren't a child, I would have shot him dead already."
This was 1990s London, where firearms were not prohibited. Residents had absolute control over their own property. Shooting an intruder was not a joke.
Moon Jones squinted his eyes and looked at the chubby boy, "Whether it's bullying or a prank, I hope some people understand that there are rules even outside of home."
Dudley, who was a bit resentful and somewhat pleased because of Harry's misfortune, suddenly felt Moon Jones's gaze on him. He quickly lowered his head, and any smile he had disappeared. He used up all his courage just not to tremble.
"Alright, that's it." Moon Jones closed the door, leaving only his words lingering in the air.
"Tonight, your nephew will return on his own."
The gate closed, and Petunia looked at her precious son, thinking that Dudley lowering his head expressed his own sadness. She hugged him, comforting, "Oh, baby. Don't be angry. You don't have to bear Harry's mistake. He has to do chores for a whole year."
She vaguely knew what had happened but didn't want to blame her son, who had already suffered enough today.
On the other hand, what could bullying achieve?
Should she scold her own biological son to defend a parasite?
Moon Jones didn't care about the Dursley family; he was more concerned about whether Lucifer had overcooked the lamb chops.
"Tsk tsk tsk, 'he's good with chores.' Through this sentence, I already know how the skinny guy is living in that house."
Lucifer extended a small fiery hand, flipping the lamb chops on the iron rack. The savory juice flowed out from the tin foil, and he caught it with his mouth, sighing at everything he had heard.
Moon Jones wasn't surprised by Harry's experience in the Dursley house. On the one hand, due to vague memories from a long time ago, and on the other hand—
"Look at how Harry is dressed, and you can tell."
Saying that, Moon Jones opened the gate to the garden again. Harry stood outside, relieved to see the gate open. He quickly said, "Sir, I've transplanted the Moonflower as you instructed."
Moon Jones glanced, nodded, and then released Harry inside.
"Get two sets of tableware from the cupboard." He continued to give instructions without hesitation.
"Okay." Harry also nodded.
Strange, why don't I resist at all?
This thought suddenly popped into his little head.
Moon Jones sat back on his exclusive red leather sofa, saying, "Your aunt came to see me just now."
Harry's movements froze, then asked somewhat dejectedly, "What did she say?"
"I asked her to compensate me because you damaged the flower I brought from the African Taskell country, a unique flower in all of England." Moon Jones's face carried a faint smile, seemingly satisfied with his fabricated story.
Of course, his language was "sincere," which gained Mrs. Dursley's trust. She didn't even think about legal procedures.
"So..." Harry hesitated.
Oh, God, Harry dared not think about the punishment he would face when he returned.
"Of course, she was not willing." Moon Jones said.
"Yes... it's only natural." Harry's voice was small, lacking enthusiasm.
"So I said, let's change the way of dealing. And your aunt agreed." Moon Jones looked at the tray handed over by Harry. "Are you going to make me eat while holding the tray? Put it on the table."
"Really?" Harry's voice suddenly became more spirited. He quickly put the tray on the table, tidied up the miscellaneous items, and brought a chair, actively doing the work.
"So, sir, what is the alternative you mentioned?" Harry couldn't wait to ask.
"Work as my assistant for a year."
Moon Jones stood up, not caring much about Harry's reaction to this decision. If Harry didn't want to, he didn't mind letting him go as a wild child.
He casually picked up the lamb chops from the flame, placed them on the iron plate, then went to the dining room, taking out the pre-made fried eggs and smoked sausages. On the side, there was a large portion of vegetable salad.
After dividing the meal, he looked at Harry. "Why are you standing there?"
Harry was a bit slow to react, pointing at himself. "Is this... for me?"
Moon Jones nodded, explaining, "Although the castle is big, I'm the only one living here."
Harry quickly sat down, looking at the sizzling lamb chops in the plate, accompanied by warm fried eggs and sausages.
"Eat, don't worry about manners." Moon Jones watched Harry, who hesitated to use fork and knife.
As the words fell, Harry eagerly picked up a sausage and took a bite. "Mmm... it's delicious... thank you..."
Harry had never eaten such delicious sausages, with a perfect texture, juicy, and a meaty fragrance he had never tasted before. Much better than what he used to eat.
"From my birth until now, this is absolutely the most delicious thing I've ever eaten, I guarantee it!" Harry quickly said, a smile on his face.
"The flavored sausages filled with that thing are indeed good." Moon Jones also nodded in approval.
Upon hearing this, Harry was curious. "What thing?"
"A kind of monster, you wouldn't want to know too much about it," Moon Jones casually explained, realizing that he hadn't introduced himself to Harry.
"I'm Moon Jones. You can call me Mr. or Uncle," Moon Jones said, calmly slicing the lamb chops.
"Eat more, you need energy for work, and your workload is substantial," Moon Jones said.
Yes, it's apparent. Harry, stuffing his mouth, glanced around at the messy surroundings.
After more than ten minutes, Harry finally ate enough. Holding a lamb chop in his hand, his mouth full of oil, he asked with a bit of apology, "So, Uncle Moon, is that flower really unique to England?"
"Of course not, I made up the part about it being the national flower of Africa."
Hearing this, Harry breathed a sigh of relief, feeling less guilty.
"The Moon Spirit Flower is unique in this world."
"Ah?"
Moon Jones ignored him and asked, "It seems you don't resist coming here to do odd jobs."
As soon as this topic came up, Harry unconsciously lowered his head, and his voice became smaller: "Yes."
"Do you hate them? Or, if you were given powerful magic now, what would you want to do?"
"Leave!"
Harry's quick response and decisive words surprised Moon Jones.
"It seems you don't hate them," Moon Jones nodded.
Harry shook his head, then nodded, remaining silent for a while.
Moon Jones quietly watched him, just saying, "Remember to eat some vegetables."
At this moment, Harry hesitated to speak:
"I don't know how to say it... when Dudley bullied me in front of everyone at school, I hated him. When Uncle Vernon locked me in the cupboard, I also hated him... in short, I have countless moments of hating them.
But overall, I don't hate them. After all, without them, I wouldn't even have food to eat, let alone go to school... I'm not their son, and they're not my mom and dad..."
Harry's voice became smaller as he spoke, and tears filled his eyes. He lowered his head, stuffing food into his mouth, trying not to make a ridiculous sob.
Moon Jones leaned back in his chair, saying nothing.
He didn't intend to comfort a crying child. This was a mature and stubborn child, and he didn't want others to see his weakness.
So Moon Jones felt... he should respect his stubbornness.
I don't know how long it took, but Moon Jones only knew that after reconstructing the advanced human alchemy array exposed by the scattered "Democritus Alchemical Notes" on the ground thirty-two times, Harry finally sorted out his emotions and raised his head.
Apart from his eyes and nose being a bit red, there was nothing unusual.
"Okay, let's get to work, kid." Moon Jones stood up and stretched lazily. "Your task today is to clean the entire living room."
"It doesn't seem difficult." Harry stood up, full of enthusiasm. The chaotic living room, which had seemed disorderly to him before, had now been accurately divided into several sections, with customized cleaning orders.
Moon Jones glanced at the confident Harry, a smile appearing on his lips. "I hope so. If you have time after completing the task, I don't mind showing you some magic."
Upon hearing this, Harry became even more motivated. He quickly started to tidy up the tableware, then looked at the uneaten food.
"Throw it into the fire," Moon Jones waved his hand.
Harry nodded, picked up the leftovers, walked to the fireplace, and looked at the food.
"I always feel it's a bit wasteful..." Harry felt a bit regretful.
Suddenly, the fireplace flared up, and a terrifyingly grotesque face appeared in the flames, along with two completely mismatched slender hands.
"What do you mean by wasteful! Can't I even have leftovers?" Lucifer shouted angrily, causing the entire castle to emit a whirring steam sound.
Harry was scared silly, sitting down in a daze, looking at Lucifer in horror, then at Moon Jones.
Moon Jones had a peculiar smile on his face but spoke with a tone of regret, "Oh, damn, sorry. I forgot to introduce you. Although I live alone, there are other creatures here.
This is Lucifer, a demon and also the guardian of this castle. If you have any questions about your work, you can ask him."
So that's how it is...
Harry looked at Lucifer, waved a bit fearfully, and greeted him.
In his heart, he exclaimed, "This place is really interesting!"
(End of this chapter)
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