Bab 123: 0123 Watson Manor
"Why did I take on this task?" Harry muttered to himself as he lay on his narrow bed, feeling every bone in his body ache. He had just endured a long and exhausting day, and he wished he could erase it from his memory. He took off his round glasses and closed his eyes, hoping to fall asleep quickly and forget his troubles.
The reason why he was so tired was not because today was the day of the big cleanup, when he had to scrub the floors, dust the furniture, and wash the dishes for the Dursleys. Nor was it because he had been busy in the garden all day, trimming the lawn, sprinkling manure on the delicate flowers in the flowerbed surrounded by the fence, and dodging the angry bees that buzzed around his head. In fact, the Dursleys didn't assign him any household chores today.
It was because, since the matter was settled at breakfast, in order to avoid Harry making a mistake when visiting the Watson Manor tomorrow, they gave him an emergency training.
From the posture of walking, the expression of smiling, the tone of greeting to the etiquette of dining, they tirelessly and endlessly told him all kinds of details, which were as boring and tedious as the only ghost professor's history of magic course at Hogwarts. Harry had to practice how to shake hands, how to bow, how to compliment, how to eat with a fork and knife, and how to avoid any mention of his magical school.
The bedroom light was off, but the living room downstairs was still brightly lit, and there was a rustling noise from time to time, which was Aunt Petunia making a decent dress for Harry urgently. Before going to bed, they realized that Harry didn't seem to have a decent dress that was suitable for visiting those upper-class people. He only had his old and worn-out clothes, which he had inherited from his cousin Dudley, who was much bigger and fatter than him.
It was too late to go out and buy one now that the night was deep and the shops were closed. After a lot of fuss, Aunt Petunia, who suddenly became much smarter for her husband's future and the family's wealthy life, remembered the dress they had prepared for Dudley last summer to entertain the Mason couple, the builders. The Masons were another potential client of Uncle Vernon, and he had invited them to dinner at their house, hoping to seal the deal with them.
That brand-new dress Dudley only wore once and never wore again, because with the speed of Dudley's body expansion, he rarely had clothes that could last for two years. It was a dark blue suit, with a white shirt, a red tie, and shiny black shoes. It was supposed to make Dudley look elegant and mature, but it only made him look like a giant balloon.
Now, Aunt Petunia only needed to cut open that dress and sew it up, and she could make two or three dresses for Harry with those fabrics. She was not very skilled at sewing, but she was very fast and determined. She used scissors, needles, threads, and pins to transform the suit into something that could barely fit Harry's slim figure. She didn't care about the quality or the style, as long as it looked decent enough to fool the Watsons.
"Why did I have to take on this task!" Harry buried his head in the quilt and hammered the bed with regret, but in fact, he knew the reason. He had agreed to go with the Dursleys to the Watson Manor, not because he wanted to please them or to help them, but because he had a plan of his own.
Not only because this was a great opportunity to get back his magic books and flying broom, which the Dursleys had locked away in the cupboard under the stairs, fearing that Harry would use them to cause trouble. Harry had missed his books and his broom terribly, especially since he had not received any letters from his friends at Hogwarts for the whole summer.
But also because he wanted to teach the Dursleys a lesson. The Dursleys always treated magic with the most contemptuous attitude, they always called magic a trick to fool people, a freakish and unnatural thing. Harry was very angry about this, but helpless, as he was not allowed to use magic outside of school, under the threat of expulsion. But the appearance of this matter gave Harry a chance, if he could really play a role, then the Dursleys might be able to take magic a little more seriously.
In this way, before he graduated from Hogwarts, the few summers he had to go through might be a little better than now. He might be able to get more freedom, more privacy, more respect, and more fun.
Harry thought so, and fell asleep with the mechanical cutting sound.
"I hope you all understand the importance of today's visit!"
Early the next morning, when the golden sun was still a bit cold, everyone in the house gathered in the living room and listened to the speech of the man of the house. Uncle Vernon was wearing his best suit, a dark gray one with a purple tie. He had combed his hair carefully, and he had shaved his mustache neatly. He looked nervous and excited, and he spoke with a loud and authoritative voice.
"Last year at this time, if I could have made that order, then we should have been living in a luxury villa on Mallorca Island by now, but because of some accidents, we lost that great opportunity to change our fate!"
Harry lowered his head, wearing a dress for the first time in his life, and feeling a bit uncomfortable all over. He knew what Uncle Vernon was talking about, but it wasn't his fault, who could have expected Dobby to show up at home at that time, and in order to stop him from going back to Hogwarts, he threw a whole cake on the heads of that Muggle couple?
It was obvious that visiting Mr. Watson made the Dursleys nervous. On the way to the Watson Manor in the rich area of Mayfair in Westminster, London, the car was quiet and depressing, even Dudley was constantly adjusting his fancy bow tie on his invisible neck, but he didn't dare to ask a word, apparently, he knew this was not a place where he could act spoiled and show his personality. Harry, who was squeezed by Dudley to the side of the car door, was also affected by this atmosphere, and felt a little nervous. He tried hard to recall how Madam Pomfrey always asked him about his problems when he stayed in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. He wished he could be there now, instead of being dragged to this boring and awkward visit.
As soon as they entered the Westminster Mayfair area, the sky seemed to become bluer. The air was fresh and clean, and the streets were wide and elegant. The houses were large and luxurious, with beautiful gardens and fountains. The people were well-dressed and refined, walking their dogs, riding their bikes, or chatting with their friends. Compared to other residential areas in London, there were very few people here, and the fresh air was filled with a refreshing rose fragrance. Harry could smell the flowers, and he felt a slight headache. He was not used to such a strong scent.
Aunt Petunia opened the window and looked at the large green grasslands on both sides of the road with envy and jealousy. She admired the ladies who were holding expensive dogs and talking and laughing comfortably on the grass, without having to worry about housework. This kind of life was what she dreamed of. She imagined herself living in one of those mansions, wearing a silk dress, a pearl necklace, and a hat with a feather.
At the end of the spotless road, a huge white mansion with gold decorations stood out in the sun, reflecting a dazzling brilliance. It was the Watson Manor, one of the most prestigious and exclusive residence in the area.
In the middle of the neat lawn in front of the mansion, there was a huge fountain that sprayed water up to sixty feet high. The water sparkled like diamonds in the sunlight, and created a rainbow in the air. Around the wall, there was a row of neat maple trees, and dozens of gardeners were climbing up and down on those trees, busy trimming the overgrown branches and leaves. They wore green uniforms, and carried scissors, saws, and baskets. They worked silently and efficiently, making sure that every leaf and twig was in perfect shape.
"This is it–"
Uncle Vernon lowered his voice and said, as he parked the car near the gate. He looked at the mansion with awe and admiration, and he felt a surge of excitement and anxiety.
Dudley greedily looked at all this, his fat face stuck to the window and deformed, while Harry was not interested. Indeed, this mansion was one of the most luxurious houses he had ever seen, but in his heart, the Hogwarts castle was his paradise.
"I'm Vernon Dursley, I'm here to visit Mr. Watson, we have an appointment–"
Harry looked at the stern-faced guard in front of the big iron gate, and Uncle Vernon, who was trembling, suddenly felt like laughing. To be honest, he had never seen Uncle Vernon talk to anyone in this tone. Uncle Vernon was usually loud and rude, and he liked to bully and boss people around.
But now, Uncle Vernon was acting like a polite and humble guest, and he was trying to please the guard, who looked at him with scrutiny and suspicion. He checked his name on a list, and he nodded slightly. He pressed a button, and the gate opened slowly. He gestured for them to enter, and he said coldly, "Follow the path, and wait at the door. Someone will come to greet you."
Since outside vehicles were not allowed to enter the mansion, Harry had to follow the Dursleys, who were holding flowers and fruit baskets, and walk towards the mansion. They walked along the straight road paved with warm stone, which felt smooth and soft under their feet. They passed by statues, hedges, and flower beds, which were arranged in symmetrical and harmonious patterns.
Perhaps because of the serious illness of the owner of the mansion, the closer they got to the mansion, the more solemn the air became. Even the workers who passed by them and bowed to them had very serious expressions on their faces. They spoke in low voices, and moved quickly and efficiently.
Through all this, Harry probably understood that the owner of the mansion was in a very bad physical condition.
"Ah, Mr. Lawrence–" Uncle Vernon, whose red face was covered with sweat, suddenly exclaimed with joy. He left behind Aunt Petunia, who was walking stiffly, and walked towards a thin man with shiny hair, a small mustache above his lips, wearing a suit without a wrinkle, who looked quite old. He was standing at the door of the mansion, and he was holding a clipboard and a pen, and he seemed to be in charge of everything.
"That's Mr. Watson's butler,"
Aunt Petunia whispered, tilting her head slightly.
"He has been conveying Mr. Watson's instructions for the past two years, very trusted, remember to be respectful to him, especially you!"
Harry of course knew who the 'you' in Aunt Petunia's reminder was. He glanced at the butler and wondered why he suddenly thought of the very unpopular castle caretaker Filch at Hogwarts.
'Maybe they both do similar jobs–'
Harry, who barely squeezed out a smile at Lawrence, thought to himself.
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