"Get up! Get up! Quickly!"
The urgent knocking on the door echoed, and Harry Potter drowsily opened his eyes.
He instinctively reached for the magic wand under his pillow, but he grabbed nothing.
His green eyes narrowed, and he raised his arm, only to find that his arm had become feeble.
What was going on?
Panic struck him as he looked around, finding himself in a small, cramped space.
The cupboard under the stairs...
The cupboard under the stairs at the Dursley family's house, now that was a distant memory.
Could it be that I was back in 1991?
"Get up!"
Another shrill scream brought Harry back to his senses, and he also remembered that it was Aunt Penny's voice.
He hadn't heard that voice for six years, and he had almost completely forgotten about the Dursley family.
Harry sat up, scanning the small, narrow space.
This was much smaller than his dormitory at Hogwarts, he thought.
Ever since picking up that admission letter in the little cupboard, he had inexplicably found himself at a school called Hogwarts, where he studied and lived for six years.
He even felt like he was about to integrate into that Victorian-era world, but for some reason, he suddenly returned to the Elizabethan era.
Harry picked up his glasses from beside his pillow, looking at the frames wrapped with tape; he arched his fingers and flicked them lightly.
The tape made a crackling sound, circled the frames, and flew into the glasses. At the same time, the frame was restored to its original state.
Putting on the glasses, he pushed open the door, and Aunt Penny had already left. A peculiar smell that was hard to describe greeted him as he made his way to the kitchen, following the sound. It seemed that the smell was emanating from the large iron basin in the kitchen sink.
The aunt's family was already seated at the dining table. It was a wonder they could endure the repulsive smell — but given Dudley's pig-like personality... and physique, not eating would be stranger.
Upon seeing Harry arrive, Uncle Vernon instinctively frowned.
Just as he was about to say something, they heard the mail slot click, and then some letters fell onto the doormat at the front door.
"What are you standing there for?" Uncle Vernon's tone was unpleasant. He then turned to Dudley: "Use your Smelting Wand to make him go pick it up."
Seeing Dudley maliciously reaching for his wand, Harry gave him a long look and turned to leave.
On the doormat were three letters: one was from Aunt Marge, another appeared to be a bill, and the last one read, "Surrey, Little Whinging District, 4 Privet Drive, Cupboard under the Stairs, Mr. Harry Potter."
The envelope was made of heavy parchment, and the address was written with emerald green ink, without a postage stamp.
Harry took a deep breath and flipped the letter over. Indeed, it was sealed with a wax emblem resembling the crest of Hogwarts.
Such a letter, yesterday —
No, to be precise, six years ago, he had also found it in the cupboard under the stairs, and then he went to that Victorian-era world of over a hundred years ago.
He carried the letter back into the kitchen under Uncle Vernon's irate urging, placed the other two letters on the table, and then opened the one meant for him.
"Dad!" Dudley suddenly shouted, "Dad! It looks like Harry got something!"
Before the words even left his mouth, Harry felt someone lunge at him. Instinctively raising his hand, Uncle Vernon, who was about to pounce, floated up gracefully and then suddenly crashed to the ground.
Wandless Magic, Silent Spell.
That was the prowess of Harry Potter, Hogwarts' foremost dueling wand expert.
Wingardium Leviosa, the standard Floating Spell.
Accompanying it was Descendo, a combination of spells taught to him by Sebastian Saru from Slytherin College.
Given that Uncle Vernon's figure was comparable to that of a giant's in its corpulence, if he really fell like that, it could be lethal. So Harry instinctively halted the spell mid-way after using Descendo.
Uncle Vernon's nose was just a few inches from the floor. Harry fanned himself with the letter he was holding, dismissing the curses Uncle Vernon was trying to sputter. With a snap of his fingers, Uncle Vernon's obscene mouth snapped shut like a zipped bag.
"Do you mind?" Harry raised an eyebrow, asking politely.
Aunt Penny let out a sharp squawk witnessing this scene.
"You... you haven't even been to Hogwart— that freak school, why do you know magic?"
Harry astutely caught the nuances in Aunt Penny's words. He raised his head, his emerald eyes meeting hers, "That's not important; what's important is how you know about Hogwarts and magic?"
As he spoke, he waved the letter in his hand.
"I..."
Penny felt her mouth go dry.
"It seems you have a lot of secrets from me, Aunt," Harry chuckled lightly in the stunned gaze of Dudley and Aunt Penny's terrified eyes. "Then, do you mind telling me?"
"No, it's impossible!" Aunt Penny cried hysterically.
Harry set down the thick parchment letter, observing Aunt's demeanor, and Uncle Vernon's plastered mouth as he hung mid-air trying to crawl towards him. Memories flooded back like a tidal wave.
Years of abusive living couldn't be diluted by six years at a magic school; instead, at this moment, they became clearer. Even though he didn't hold a grudge against his aunt's family.
But given Aunt Penny's attitude, Harry didn't mind teaching her a little lesson.
"Aunt should know that wizards have a magic called Mind Reading; as the name suggests, it allows one to read the memories of others," Harry stated politely and elegantly, "I don't think we've reached the point of using such a spell, have we?"
Penny looked at her nephew with a mix of wariness and unfamiliarity. Why had he become so... gentlemanly overnight?
She had once attended high-society banquets with Vernon, and Harry's demeanor was no different from those of the "big shots" she had met!
What she didn't know was that, 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 have infused into it in six years, let alone Harry, who was already a clever young wizard.
"Alright, alright." Aunt Penny surrendered under 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 they learned in that freak—trick school; all I know is just that!"
"So, you're not a wizard?"
After Harry said this, he noticed Aunt Penny's face turn unspeakably ugly.
"Thank you, Aunt, for informing me. I suppose I won't need to attend Stone Wall Middle School, right?"
Harry chuckled lightly, rose from his seat, and, with a flick of his finger, released the spell on Uncle Vernon. Without glancing at the family, he silently returned to the cupboard under the stairs amidst the wary gaze of all three.
Back in the cupboard, Harry opened the envelope. Just by glancing at the first line, he detected a loophole.
Albus Dumbledore?
Harry frowned, recalling the headmaster named Phineas Black from his time at Hogwarts.
Could it be that Phineas Black was dead?
The news turned Harry's previously sour mood from his aunt's family into a joyous one.
Merlin's puffy sleeves...
This was indeed worth celebrating!