Chapter 228 – The Reason for Free Spellcasting
Harry, who lived at No. 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, felt for the first time how happy it was to live here.
He even felt that there was no other shortcoming here except the absence of Ron and the others.
This was all because of what had happened not long ago, just a few days after Harry had returned to the Dursleys.
After Sirius came to take Aunt Petunia and Dudley for a talk, things changed. Perhaps because Dudley was also now a wizard, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia—whose long-standing attitudes toward magic had always been rooted in suspicion and prejudice—began to no longer treat magic as taboo.
They no longer targeted Harry with constant orders or chores, but instead treated him more indifferently, as if he were just another member of the household.
They even allowed Harry's spellbooks, wand, cauldron, and broomstick to remain in his bedroom instead of being locked away in the cupboard under the stairs.
They also permitted Hedwig to fly freely, even though she returned with dead rats in her beak. What puzzled Harry most was that Aunt Petunia, who had always been squeamish about such things, didn't even scream. This tolerance surprised him—surely Sirius must have said or done something.
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"Hey, Dudley, my boy, try making this shirt a bit bigger. I think it shrank." On an ordinary morning, Uncle Vernon—who had once loathed magic—actually mentioned it aloud for the first time.
"We signed an agreement not to use magic at home," Dudley replied helplessly.
Harry suspected that Uncle Vernon's swift acceptance of magic was largely due to Dudley's transformation. In the past, Dudley had been overweight, spoiled, and poor at school. But since returning from Hogwarts, Dudley had slimmed down, grown more polite, and carried himself with surprising maturity.
His sudden change made Aunt Petunia tear up with joy nearly every day. To anyone who didn't know better, it might look as if she were suffering, but in truth Petunia was thrilled—her son had changed for the better.
When Dudley repeated that he couldn't use magic at home, Aunt Petunia sighed.
"It seems the magical world has made progress…"
Uncle Vernon froze, worried he'd said something wrong. Dudley blinked in confusion.
"Mum, what do you mean?"
Petunia's voice carried a strange mix of bitterness and longing.
"When I was a girl, Lily had already gone to Hogwarts. Whenever she came home for the holidays, she'd show off her magic—turning teacups into mice, for example. My parents adored it. They never stopped praising her."
Her lips tightened. "But that was my favorite teacup. Turned into something filthy. I think it's better now, that children aren't allowed to do magic at home."
Harry blinked in surprise. Beneath her resentment, he saw the truth—Petunia hadn't hated magic. She had wanted it. Maybe she had even written to Dumbledore once, hoping to be admitted.
And now, looking at the wand in Dudley's hand, regret shadowed her face.
"Engorgio," Dudley muttered, aiming at Vernon's shirt. Before Harry's eyes, the garment stretched just enough to fit his large father. Dudley glanced at his mother knowingly, recognizing the longing in her eyes.
Harry found himself wondering what Dudley's grades were like at Hogwarts. He might have been hopeless at flying, but perhaps he was doing well in Charms.
"My darling boy—" Petunia began, tears welling.
But she cut herself short, reminding herself of the Ministry's rule.
"Mum, you wanted to see, didn't you?" Dudley said softly.
Unable to hold back, Petunia hugged him tightly. Vernon quickly joined in, leaving Harry standing awkwardly nearby, feeling like an outsider in his own house.
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The tender scene was broken when an owl swooped through the dining room window, dropping a letter onto the sofa before vanishing again.
"This… this can't be from the Ministry of Magic, can it?" Petunia whispered, reaching for the letter with trembling fingers.
But Vernon snatched it first. "Relax, Petunia. Nobody would target a fine boy like Dudley."
Still, she looked uneasy. He glanced at her, then added gruffly, "Even those odd wizards wouldn't dare. Dudley's one of them now."
Opening the envelope, Vernon frowned, then shoved it at Harry.
"Here, boy. It's addressed to you. Read it out loud."
Harry unfolded the parchment.
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Dear Harry,
By the time you receive this letter, I expect you've already been tempted to use magic. I wouldn't be surprised—you are James' son, after all.
If you were in Ravenclaw, you might already know: children from wizarding families who use magic at home do not receive warning letters from the Ministry. But you are an exception.
As your godfather, I've registered you under my supervision at the Ministry. With a little gold and your reputation, I've arranged that any spellcasting at Privet Drive will be treated as if performed by me, an adult wizard.
In other words—you are free to use magic at home.
Also, I'll be picking you up at Number Four on the morning of July 9th. You'll be staying with me for the rest of the summer.
Love,
Sirius
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Harry folded the letter with the same care he had folded his Hogwarts acceptance letter.
"This is from Sirius," he explained quickly, seeing Vernon's glare. "He's my godfather. He says wizarding children are allowed to use magic at home, and he's arranged things with the Ministry."
Vernon scowled, then turned to Dudley. "Is that true?"
Dudley hesitated but nodded. "That's what he said."
"That's right," Harry added.
Vernon muttered under his breath, "Those people… always looking down on families like ours. Dudley, practice harder. Don't you dare lose to them."
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