"Get up! Get up now! Hurry!"
A hurried knock on the door sounded, and Harry Potter groggily opened his eyes.
He instinctively reached for the magic wand under his pillow, but grabbed nothing.
His green eyes narrowed, he raised his arm, only to find his arm had become weak and frail.
What was going on?
His heart skipped a beat as he looked around, discovering he was in a small, cramped space.
The cupboard under the stairs...
The cupboard under the stairs at the Dursley family's house, a distant memory indeed.
Could it be that I've returned to 1991?
"Get up!"
Another shriek jolted Harry back to his senses, and he remembered it was the voice of his Aunt Penny.
He hadn't heard that voice in six years, almost forgetting the Dursley family entirely.
Harry sat up, gazing around the small, cramped space.
This was much smaller than the dormitories at Hogwarts, he thought.
Ever since he found that school acceptance letter in the cupboard, he had inexplicably been transported to a school called Hogwarts, where he studied and lived for six years.
He even felt as if he had almost become a part of that Victorian Era, only to somehow suddenly return to the Elizabethan Era.
Harry picked up his glasses from beside the pillow, examining the repeatedly taped arms of the glasses, and flicked it with his finger.
The tape emitted a crackling sound, twisted around the glasses arm, and vanished into the glasses. At the same time, the arm of the glasses restored itself.
Donning the glasses, he pushed open the door. Aunt was already gone, replaced by an indescribable smell—he followed the sound into the kitchen, discovering the odor seemed to emanate from a large iron basin in the sink.
The family was already seated at the dining table; how they could tolerate this repulsive smell was beyond him—though given Dudley's pig-like demeanor and physique, not eating would be the real surprise.
Uncle Vernon instinctively frowned upon seeing Harry approach.
Before he could say anything, they heard the mailbox click, followed by letters falling onto the doormat by the front door.
"What are you standing there for?" Uncle Vernon's tone was not pleasant as he turned to Dudley: "Use your Smelting Wand to make him fetch it."
Seeing Dudley maliciously reach for his wand, Harry shot him a deep look and turned to leave.
Three letters lay scattered on the doormat—a letter from Aunt Marge, a bill of sorts, and the last one addressed to "4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging District, Surrey, Mr. Harry Potter, Cupboard Under the Stairs."
The envelope was made of heavy parchment, the address written in emerald green ink, with no stamp affixed.
Harry took a deep breath, flipped the letter over, and sure enough, it was sealed with the Hogwarts crest.
This kind of letter, yesterday—
No, to be precise, six years ago, he had also found in the cupboard under the stairs, leading him a century ago to the Victorian Era.
He held the letter, slowly walked back to the kitchen under Uncle Vernon's irritable prodding, placed the two letters on the table, and then opened his own letter.
"Dad!" Dudley suddenly shouted: "Dad! Harry seems to have received something!"
As soon as his voice fell, Harry felt someone pouncing toward him. He instinctively raised his hand, and the lunging Uncle Vernon suddenly floated up in the air before crashing to the floor.
Wandless Magic, Silent Spell.
This was the head of the Hogwarts Dueling Wand, Harry Potter.
Wingardium Leviosa, the standard Floating Spell.
Paired with it was the Descendo Spell, a combination taught to him by Sebastian Saru of Slytherin College.
Considering the fact that Uncle Vernon was as hefty as a Giant, Harry instinctively added the Descendo spell to prevent him from landing too hard, stopping the spell halfway.
Uncle Vernon's nose was only inches from the ground. Harry fanned himself with the letter, hearing Uncle Vernon still shouting obscenities as he snapped his fingers, sealing Uncle Vernon's constantly cursing mouth as if zipping it shut.
"Do you mind?" Harry raised an eyebrow, asking politely.
Aunt Penny let out a sharp shriek at this sight.
"You... you haven't even attended Hogwarts… that freak school, how do you know magic?"
Harry keenly caught the nuances in Aunt Penny's words. He raised his head, his emerald green eyes meeting hers: "That's not important. What's important is how you know Hogwarts, know magic?"
As he spoke, he waved the letter in his hand.
"I..."
Aunt Penny felt her mouth go dry.
"It seems you have quite a few things you've been hiding from me, Aunt," Harry chuckled lightly, speaking in a relaxed tone amidst Dudley's stunned gaze and Aunt Penny's horrified eyes: "So, would you mind telling me?"
"No, impossible!" Aunt Penny shouted hysterically.
Harry set down the thick parchment letter, seeing Aunt's reaction, as well as Uncle Vernon's struggle to reach him with his mouth shut and body hanging mid-air, memories flooded back like a tidal wave.
The years of abuse, not something that six years of magic school life could easily erase, only became clearer in that moment, though he bore no grudge against Aunt's family.
Yet with Aunt Penny's attitude, Harry didn't mind giving her a little scare.
"Aunt must know that wizards have a magic called Mind Reading—meaning, it allows one to read another's memory," Harry stated politely and elegantly. "I believe we're not at the point of needing to use this spell, are we?"
Aunt Penny looked at her nephew with fear and unfamiliarity, wondering how he could become so… courteous overnight.
She and Vernon had once attended high society banquets; Harry's demeanor matched that of the "big shots" she had encountered!
Little did she know, thanks to Phineas Black, that neurotic headmaster, all Hogwarts students had to learn etiquette—specifically the damn so-called "Pure-blood Nobility" etiquette!
Even a stone would absorb some flavor in six years, let alone Harry, a naturally bright young wizard.
"Alright, alright." Aunt Penny surrendered to Harry's "polite" threat. "Your parents were wizards, killed by a powerful Dark Wizard they offended. Isn't that enough? I don't know what your parents learned at that freak—trick school, I only know this much!"
"So, you're not a wizard?"
After Harry spoke, he saw Aunt Penny's face turn incredibly unpleasant.
"Thank you for informing me, Aunt. I suppose I don't need to attend Stone Wall Middle School, do I?"
Harry chuckled lightly as he stood up, unlocking the spell on Uncle Vernon with a wave of his finger. Without a glance back, he returned quietly to the cupboard under the stairs under the wary gazes of the three.
After returning to the cupboard, Harry opened the envelope. Just one glance revealed a blind spot.
Albus Dumbledore?
Harry furrowed his brows, recalling the headmaster of Hogwarts during his time, Phineas Black.
Could it be that Phineas Black had died?
The news lifted Harry's spirits, brightening the mood clouded by Aunt's family.
Merlin's puffy sleeves...
This was surely a matter worth celebrating!