Chapter 259

Harry wiped his eyes, his throat feeling as if blocked by something.

Hedwig chirped frantically in her cage, while Harry heard Petunia’s footsteps clacking up the stairs.

He quickly shoved the letter into his pocket.

Dudley was unharmed; Petunia knew he hadn’t truly cast magic, but she still swung a soapy frying pan at his head—he barely dodged it.

Then she ordered him to work, forbidding him to eat until it was done.

Harry cleaned windows, washed the car, trimmed the lawn, tidied the flowerbeds, pruned and watered the roses, and repainted the garden bench. The blazing sun burned the back of his neck.

Yet he showed no resentment; in his bag lay a blank sheet of paper, a bridge connecting him to the wizarding world.

It was his hope, and with hope, life became bearable.

Wait a little longer, he told himself, until I have time to reply to En.

He told himself.

But a question lingered in his mind: if everyone else was sending letters, why hadn’t he received any?

Soon, he would know why.

Harry finally finished all his chores and retreated to the cramped, dimly lit cupboard to write.

At that moment, a small monster suddenly appeared before him.

The creature had two bat-like ears and a pair of bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls.

It stared fixedly at the blank paper in Harry’s hand, as if it were staring at something heinous.

The words “I can’t do my homework here, and I can’t practice Quidditch skills” stood out sharply on the letter.

“Harry Potter cannot leave this place, nor return to Hogwarts. This year, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry will witness the most terrifying event.”

The creature let out a shrill voice, then suddenly trembled all over.

“Harry Potter must not go on adventures. He doesn’t know how important he is!”

Harry had no idea what it was saying—he only saw it lunging to snatch the letter.

Harry wouldn’t let it succeed. Though terrified, he bravely wrestled with it. Eventually, both grabbed one corner of the letter and pulled with all their strength—the paper groaned under the strain.

“No, please don’t.”

Harry pleaded.

“Dobby must do this, sir. It’s for Harry Potter’s own good.”

The creature actually spoke, and for a moment, it looked at Harry with what seemed like sorrow.

The next instant, the letter tore with a sharp “rip” into two halves.

Harry stared blankly at the torn letter, frantically trying to piece it back together—but it was clearly futile.

The creature was gone, leaving only Harry clutching the torn remains of the letter.

Rain began falling on Privet Drive, silent and sudden. At first, Harry didn’t notice—only that the air grew heavy, and cool droplets appeared on his face and hands.

The next moment, a turn came—sudden as the rain.

Harry felt something brushing against his forehead. When he looked up, he saw another paper airplane unfolding into a sheet of white paper:

【To Harry:

You haven’t replied in a long time. Perhaps something else has happened.

Don’t worry. I’m coming.

—Wizard Sean Green】

Harry lowered his head. Outside, Dobby heard muffled, sobbing cries from within—the sound of a wounded puppy.

So it snapped its fingers, and suddenly appeared on a tree outside, beginning to bang its head rhythmically against the trunk.

Meanwhile, Diagon Alley.

En had just released his second paper airplane when Diagon Alley was already crowded with young wizards.

“En, you’re here.”

Seeing the familiar figure appear in the fireplace, the young wizards all sighed in relief.

“En, do you know what happened to Harry?”

Ron blurted out.

“I don’t know.”

Everyone jumped. They looked left and right, unable to tell who had spoken.

“It’s me.”

After two seconds of stunned silence, they connected the mature voice with En.

“What’s that?”

For a moment, Ron forgot Harry and stared curiously at En’s brooch.

“That’s not important right now, Ron!”

Hermione snapped.

“Oh, right—”

Ron snapped back to attention.

“Harry’s probably in trouble. Don’t worry—I’ll handle it.”

As the brooch spoke, En prepared to leave.

The paper airplane’s delivery mission never fails—Taila Sect had cast a uniquely powerful magic on it, so Harry’s lack of reply likely meant his letter was intercepted.

Perhaps the Dursleys blocked it. Perhaps Dobby…

Thinking of this, En planned to leave Diagon Alley and make his way to Number Four, Privet Drive. Beforehand, he would prepare in Diagon Alley for any possible complications.

After all, he had signed the Statute of Secrecy; without magic, rescuing Harry would be somewhat difficult.

But only somewhat. The Trace detects magical energy fluctuations and records spellcasting time and location—but En wouldn’t use any spells.

Not all magic exists within a wizard’s wand.

Like the flying car Ron used to rescue Harry, or simple alchemical creations.

“Are you going alone?”

In a secluded alley of Diagon Alley, Hermione suddenly spoke.

“Yes.”

The brooch replied naturally.

“I can help!”

Ron shouted back.

“Probably won’t…”

En swiftly silenced the brooch and walked calmly toward Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.

“So blunt…”

Ron blushed.

“Harry lives with his aunt’s family, just like us—magic can’t be used there.”

Jia Jia Siting explained—he understood now.

“But Harry lives in London. Maybe I can help.”

Jia Jia Siting hinted.

En still shook his head. In truth, this was a complex situation—not only the Dursleys, but also a house-elf to deal with.

In the end, En went alone to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. The twins had prepared a room there for crafting magical items, and En made use of it.

Rain fell over Diagon Alley, tapping rhythmically on the eaves, sprouting mushroom-shaped blooms.

Gao Gao Bushi, the shopkeeper, was still busy. When she glanced furtively into the room, En had already left.

Only a distant silhouette flew across the sky on a broomstick.

At the same moment,

Number Four, Privet Drive.

This time, Harry buried his head under the covers, lighting a dim lamp to write a reply to En.

He had to let En know there was a monster here, and warn him to be careful.

Yet even with such caution, trouble arose.

Just as he was about to release the paper airplane, a pair of enormous eyes glowed with terror from the hedge—Dobby, standing on the tree, snapped his fingers. Harry’s lamp floated away mysteriously and crashed onto Dudley’s foot.

Screams erupted from the dining room. Vernon Dursley burst in to find Harry holding a paper airplane that was still floating in midair.