Chapter 6: Pidgeot
When Hagrid saw Charles, his face immediately lit up with delight.
"You're finally here! I made a cake—I thought Harry might like it," Hagrid said cheerfully. The cake in question, however, had already been squashed flat.
"All right, hop on. It might be a bit cramped—unless you plan to ride a broomstick?"
"No need to worry. I have another way."
Charles wasn't fond of riding broomsticks—not because it was uncomfortable, but because it just looked silly. He always felt that broomsticks were something witches rode.
In his past life, before learning about Harry Potter, he had first watched Kiki's Delivery Service.
"Come out, Pidgeot."
A brilliant flash of crimson lightning burst forth, and a massive bird appeared before Hagrid's astonished eyes.
"Oh, just look at it! It's magnificent!" Hagrid exclaimed in awe. Normally, a Pidgeot stood about one and a half meters tall, but Charles's specimen stood nearly two meters high. When it spread its wings, its full length approached five meters.
Hagrid was utterly entranced by its sharp beak and gleaming talons. Thankfully, he still remembered the task at hand.
"You've got to let me pet it sometime, won't you?" Hagrid asked hopefully.
Wants to touch my big bird, does he?
Charles raised an eyebrow, then quickly agreed.
"Let's go, then. Pidgeot—use Fly!"
Pidgeot lowered its body, allowing Charles to mount it more comfortably. Its broad wings beat once—then again—whipping up a fierce gale.
"A great roc rises with the wind in a single day, soaring ninety thousand miles high!"
In the blink of an eye, Pidgeot had carried Charles into the clouds. The average flying speed of a Pidgeot could reach Mach 2—true supersonic flight!
By comparison, the fastest broomstick that would exist years later—the Firebolt—could only reach about 150 miles per hour, roughly 241 kilometers.
Even if one doubled that figure for acceleration bursts, Pidgeot's cruising speed still outclassed it by nearly fivefold.
Of course, with a passenger aboard, Pidgeot couldn't maintain its top velocity. Still, leaving Hagrid's old motorbike in the dust was child's play.
Charles hovered high above, patiently waiting for him.
"It flies fast, doesn't it?" Hagrid shouted over the wind.
"It can go even faster," Charles replied with a smile. He cast a Disillusionment Charm and a Wind-Protection Charm on both himself and Hagrid. "I'm not afraid of the Ministry of Magic, but it's better not to cause Dumbledore any trouble."
Hagrid's flying motorbike had once belonged to Sirius Black—and was, of course, an illegally modified Muggle vehicle. If it were spotted, it would cause no end of headaches.
"You're right about that. Didn't think your spells would work on me, though—uh, I mean, we were both expelled, so I'm not exactly an expert in charms," Hagrid muttered awkwardly.
He had almost said that magic didn't affect him easily—then quickly changed his wording, realizing it might expose his half-giant heritage.
Charles didn't seem to mind. Since Hagrid didn't want to talk about it, he would pretend not to notice.
Then Hagrid grumbled again, "Those blasted Muggles! They've moved Harry again!"
At first, he seemed to be changing the topic, but now his anger was genuine.
"The owls have been flying themselves half to death these past few days—every one of them trying to deliver letters to that family, but they haven't read a single one!" Hagrid's tangled beard bristled as he fumed.
By now, the two had flown straight into a raging storm. The sky, already dim with approaching night, turned pitch-black under the thunderclouds.
Yet Pidgeot flew with perfect steadiness—unshaken even by the howling winds.
"Impervius!" Charles chanted, casting a spell to make himself and Pidgeot waterproof, so the rain would slide right off. He did the same for Hagrid.
Because they had to slow down and wait for Hagrid's bike, it was nearly midnight when they arrived.
In the storm and crashing waves, the wooden shack perched atop the rocks looked ready to collapse at any moment. Though it was midsummer, the air felt bitterly cold.
It seemed the Dursleys truly despised wizards—so much so that they'd rather suffer through this misery than let Harry go to Hogwarts.
Harry's eyes drifted to the luminous watch on Dudley's wrist. One more minute—and it would be his birthday. Yet the owls he'd been waiting for all day had never returned.
The weather was dreadful.
Dudley was snoring away. Harry briefly considered waking him—just to irritate him. Even if it earned him another beating, he thought it might be worth it.
Before he could act, however, a thunderous knocking rattled the door.
BANG!
The whole cabin seemed to shake.
Harry thought that unless some enormous creature was pounding on the door, perhaps one of the seaside rocks had smashed against it.
Uncle Vernon grabbed his rifle in terror. The weapon didn't give him courage, though—it only made him stumble backward, retreating in panic.
"Who's there?! I—I warn you, I've got a gun!" he shouted, his mustache quivering like a walrus.
The knocking stopped. For a moment, Harry thought whoever it was had gone away—until he faintly heard two voices speaking outside.
"Let me handle it, Hagrid. You'll knock the whole door off its hinges."
"All right, all right—but I could've just used a bit of—well, you know."
Harry leaned closer to listen, but before he could make out more, the conversation ended.
Then—click!—the door's lock sprang open, as if turned by an invisible key.
Creak—
A tall, handsome man stepped inside.
Harry's impression shifted almost immediately, though—for behind him came an enormous figure that made the first man seem anything but tall.
"Get out! This is private property!" Uncle Vernon bellowed.
But Hagrid paid him no mind. As if he were in his own home, he strode to the couch, shooed the sleeping Dudley aside, and sat down heavily.
To Harry's amusement, the giant of a man actually called Dudley a fat lump.
"Could I trouble you for a cup of tea? No, make that two. Long trip, this one…"
Then he turned his gaze to Harry. "So you're Harry, eh? Last time I saw you, you were just a baby. You're the spitting image of your dad—but you've got your mum's eyes."
(End of Chapter)