Chapter 258: The Delivered Letter

Diagonal Alley.

In front of Wei Wei Silai and Green Magic Tricks Shop, people came and went; on the left side of the shop, Hemin’s face showed visible anxiety:

“Has En replied? Justin? What happened to Harry?”

“Don’t worry too much, Hemin. Whatever happens, we’ll handle it… First, let’s hear En’s thoughts.”

Justin comforted her,

“Have Ron and Neville arrived?”

No sooner had he spoken than Ron emerged, dusty and grimy, from a fireplace.

“What happened to Harry?! Good heavens! Where’s En?”

Ron wiped his face but failed to see the figure he hoped to find.

“Watch out, Ron!”

As Hemin cried out, Justin reached out and pulled Ron to his side.

It was Neville who had appeared in the fireplace.

He coughed twice upon entering, spitting out soot from his mouth:

“My grandmother refused to let me come at all—until I mentioned En’s name…”

His words drew everyone’s attention back toward the horizon, as if waiting for something.

Farther away, Bai Yi flew through layers of white clouds, carrying a letter.

En, who had just sent the letter, was deep in thought.

It seemed the free elf Dobby had appeared.

He had locked Harry inside the house, because next year at Hogwarts would be even more dangerous…

Thinking of this, En found it somewhat amusing.

Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall said Hogwarts was the safest place in the world, yet every year Harry emerged covered in dust and grime.

First year: facing a troll and Voldemort; second year: facing the Basilisk; third year: Hogwarts infiltrated by an “escapee”…

By the final books, Hogwarts had become the site of the final battle.

Perhaps Hogwarts’s safety, like the position of the Dark Arts Defense professor, was cursed.

En took out a stack of white paper—Professor Taila’s paper airplanes.

No matter when or where, they could deliver messages.

It was said the Ministry’s paper airplanes were inferior versions of this.

The shorthand quill scribbled swiftly:

“Harry, we’ve noticed you seem not to have received our letters. All letters have vanished for no reason.

But don’t worry—once you receive this letter, use this white paper to reply to me.

This white paper has special magic; it will carry your letter to me. If you encounter any problems, tell me.

—Wizard Sean Green.”

Watching the paper airplane wobble through the wall and fly away, En prepared to seek out Professor McGonagall.

Justin’s second letter had just arrived—he needed to go to Diagonal Alley.

The living room of the villa.

Professor McGonagall sipped her steaming black tea when she saw the young wizard descending the stairs.

At this hour, the child should still be immersed in Transfiguration…

She sensed something, and as the young wizard approached, she held back her excitement, forcing herself to remain calm.

“Professor, I’d like to go to Diagonal Alley.”

The brooch said.

Professor McGonagall nodded—no matter what, the child had finally been willing to speak to her.

“Go then, child. Shall I come with you?”

En shook his head, his gaze toward the distance deep and unreadable.

Harry and the Dursleys… their relationship was extremely complex.

One mistake after another had tangled together into a knot too messy to unravel, yet too inseparable to cut.

The carriage kicked up dust, moving farther from the farm.

“You should have asked more questions—if it happens again like last time…”

Inside the farmhouse villa, Marcus fell silent for a long while before speaking these words.

His face was calm, but his body trembled slightly.

Far away at Hogwarts, the Dark Lord sought to return—and the one who would stop his plot was this child, still clearly immature before his eyes.

“You know many things are dangerous. Promise me, no matter what, watch over him.”

Marcus’s final words faded into the wind; the sound of the carriage outside the villa had also grown quiet.

…

Number Four, Privet Drive.

Every day, Harry could only stare out the window.

As soon as he arrived home, Uncle Vernon locked his spellbook, wand, robes, cauldron, and his brand-new Firebolt 2000 broom into the small, dark cupboard under the stairs.

Whether Harry would be kicked off the school Quidditch team for not practicing all summer was of no concern to the Dursleys.

Harry hadn’t done any homework—he couldn’t turn it in when school resumed. What did that matter to them?

Even the owl Hedwig was locked in her cage, forbidden to send letters to anyone in the magical world.

Looking at Hedwig in her cage, Harry felt as if he, too, was imprisoned in that dark, damp compartment.

“Ha! Freak! Even your freak friends haven’t written you a letter—just admit it, no one cares about you!”

A fat boy with pinkish-white skin stood in the hallway, forcing a disgusting smile as he mocked. But after Harry stared at him for a moment, he grew frightened and stammered:

“What are you looking at?”

“I’m thinking which spell to use to set you on fire.”

Harry said.

Dudley stumbled backward several steps, his chubby face twisted with terror.

“Y-you can’t—Dad said you’re not allowed to use magic—he said he’d kick you out—you’ve got nowhere to go, no friends to take you in—”

“Gigglebockley!”

Harry snapped sharply,

“Hawkspox… Chigley-gigley…”

“M-Mom!”

Dudley screamed, stumbling into the house,

“M-Mom! He’s doing it again!”

Even after scaring off Dudley, Harry’s mood didn’t improve.

Dudley was right—no one had sent him a letter.

Ron hadn’t, Hemin hadn’t, not even Justin, who had insisted everyone write to each other.

He could tell himself perhaps En and Neville weren’t good at this—but what about Ron? Hemin? Justin?

Unless the “everyone” they meant didn’t include him.

He knew his friends wouldn’t do this—but he couldn’t stop himself from thinking it.

Worse still, because he’d tricked Dudley and frightened him, he’d soon have to face Aunt Petunia’s revenge.

Maybe cleaning windows, washing the car, trimming the lawn, tending the flowerbeds, pruning and watering the roses, repainting the garden bench—

But he didn’t care anymore.

When Aunt Petunia screamed downstairs, Harry’s mood had sunk to its lowest point—until—

A paper airplane, wobbling slowly, flew through the branches of the trees outside the window.

It paused suddenly, as if something had blocked its path—but still it stubbornly wobbled to Harry’s side.

Harry felt a volcano erupting inside him—he knew exactly what this was!

During the crisis in the Forbidden Forest, En had always used this to communicate with them.

He hadn’t been forgotten!

En had sent a letter!

He eagerly opened it, and soon his eyes grew wet:

【Harry, we’ve noticed you seem not to have received our letters. All letters have vanished for no reason.

But don’t worry—once you receive this letter, use this white paper to reply to me.

This white paper has special magic; it will carry your letter to me. If you encounter any problems, tell me.

—Wizard Sean Green】