Chapitre 15: Chapter 15: Dursley's Anger
**Chapter 15: Dursley's Anger**
Moon turned the pages back to the table of contents, looking at a section in the history of modern magic, silent for a moment.
"Take a seat. I know very little about your situation, but maybe the book will give us some answers."
Harry noticed the title "History of Modern Magic" on the book cover, feeling a bit strange but didn't say much. Instead, he sat down as suggested.
Afterward, Moon turned the book to that page, reading and starting to narrate simultaneously.
Under Moon's gentle and slow narration, a picture of over a decade ago gradually unfolded in Harry's eyes. As the scene progressed, it became more piercing, making him feel an icy chill.
One hour later, Moon closed the book, took a deep breath, and turned to Harry.
Harry's eyes were a bit red, as Moon had said; he was trying to conceal his emotions. However, the intertwining, constantly moving fingers indicated that he wasn't as calm as he appeared.
After a long while, Harry said, "I..."
His throat was hoarse, almost choking. After coughing twice, he smiled bitterly. "Aunt Petunia has always told me... my parents died in a car accident."
"If you want to vent your emotions, feel free," Moon waved his hand, placing the book on the table.
Harry shook his head. "Actually... I don't know what to say. I'm not as sad as I imagined. Uncle Moon, am I... too indifferent?"
"Of course not, it's not your fault," Moon shook his head. "After all, you've never seen them. We only know a fraction of their past from the cold words in history books. Their preferences, their personalities, and even what they looked like... we don't know. Perhaps, in the future, these things will gradually enter your mind. Like a dull knife cutting into you..."
Harry remained silent for a while before saying, "I want to... know more about them."
"Of course, that's only natural," Moon nodded, pushing the book in front of Harry.
He didn't know Harry's parents, so giving him history books was all he could do, providing limited assistance.
Perhaps, in the future, when Harry goes to Hogwarts, he might learn more about James and Lily's life.
Harry carefully flipped through the pages, and Moon stood up, heading to the kitchen...
In the evening, Harry bid farewell to Moon, who was on the sofa, closed the door, and London experienced light rain again. He waited for a red car that appeared dark in the night to pass before crossing the street.
He felt a bit dazed throughout the night. Images of his mom and dad with different expressions and smiles were being written by him, only to be erased by denial.
What kind of people were they? How did they talk? How did they smile?
If they hadn't died, would everything be different?
Various chaotic thoughts kept intertwining in his mind, like a tangled ball of thread, leaving him unsure of how to handle it.
Opening the door, he was greeted by the seemingly warm yet cold house.
If it were his mom and dad inside the house at this moment, what kind of scene would it be?
Click—
The door was pushed open again. Uncle Vernon, wearing a brown coat, walked in, looking disgruntled. As soon as he entered, he saw Harry standing at the door, pushed him aside, and grumbled:
"Hurry back to your room; it's still your confinement time!"
After scolding, he took off his rain-drenched coat and hung it on the coat rack, then walked toward the living room.
Petunia also came out of the living room, hugging Vernon.
"You knew from the start?"
Suddenly, a voice came from behind Vernon.
His obese body turned somewhat awkwardly in the hallway, eyes squinted into a line, clearly very angry. "What did you say?"
Harry stood up, calmly looking at the two of them. "My parents were wizards, you knew that early on, right? My mom is your sister, isn't she?"
Petunia stepped back, her mouth trembling open, a face full of horror. Vernon's entire face suddenly turned as if boiling water, reddening and convulsing.
"No—"
His voice erupted like a volcano about to explode, and his massive body quickly pressed toward Harry.
Until he was right in front of Harry's face.
"Don't say that word in this house!"
Harry looked at Uncle Vernon's face and suddenly found himself not as afraid as before.
On the contrary, he seemed to understand why Uncle Moon had told him not to show emotions on his face.
Although he had seen Uncle Vernon's angry face countless times, this time, he saw something else within the anger.
"You indeed knew!" Harry understood, choosing to face Uncle Vernon's anger for the first time.
He solemnly said, "Otherwise, why do you hate magic so much? It's because you know about magic."
"Shut up!" Vernon grabbed Harry's collar, opened the closet door, and tried to shove him inside.
Harry struggled, gripping the door frame tightly, shouting hoarsely, "I just want to know why you lied to me! Is that also wrong?!"
"Shut up! Shut up!" Uncle Vernon grabbed Harry's fingers one by one, throwing him onto the small bed inside the closet.
Bang—
The door was slammed shut, white stairs dust falling on Harry's head. The small door window opened again, and Uncle Vernon stared at Harry.
"I don't know how you found out about this, but from today, you're not allowed to go anywhere."
He didn't care how Harry knew about these things, but from today, he would squash everything right from the start.
After saying that, Vernon closed the small window.
Petunia kept patting her chest, taking deep breaths. She was frightened; how could this guy dare to speak like this in their house!
Vernon patted his wife's shoulder, consoling her continuously.
Suddenly, a knocking sound echoed.
Both of them were startled. Who would visit them at this time?
They glanced at each other, and Vernon escorted Petunia to the living room sofa before coming to the door and opening it.
Outside the door was a man in a neat suit, with a sharply defined face. He wore a brown fedora and a wool coat.
"Can I come in? As a visiting neighbor," Moon took off his hat, revealing a gentle smile.
"No, I refuse!" Vernon said unkindly. However, Moon had already walked in, praising, "It's bright in here. I actually wanted to get more lamps for my home, but unfortunately, there's no complete electrical infrastructure."
Saying this, he took off his hat and coat, hanging them on the coat rack.
"I said, you're not welcome—"
Moon ignored him, walking straight ahead. Passing by the closet, Harry's voice sounded, he pounded on the door, constantly asking something. He already knew who the visitor was from the voice.
But Moon just opened the small window, saying, "It's time for you to sleep, kid."
"I..."
"Trust me."
After saying that, Moon closed the small window again. With a wave of his hand on the small door, he cut off the sound inside and outside.
Then he turned to look at the dark gun barrel and the figure holding the shotgun.
"Mr. Dursley, I just want everyone to calmly discuss the child's situation. Are you sure you want to do this?"
(End of this chapter)
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone