As Dudley was coming downstairs, Harry finished writing the letter to Nicolas Flamel.
He pondered over the signature for a long time before finally signing it with Vivi's name.
Hey, let's hope the old man doesn't make a piercing explosion when he sees it.
Hmm... but judging by the last time Harry saw Mr. Leme with such brittle bones, he probably couldn't make a sharp explosion anyway.
What Harry didn't expect was that once Dudley went downstairs, he never came back up.
He didn't think much of it, and only went down himself at dinner time.
Before heading downstairs, he didn't forget to have Hedwig deliver the letter to Nicolas Flamel—he had to trouble it a little.
He even specifically instructed Hedwig that once it reached the Leme family's home, it didn't need to fly back—he would bring it back when he went to France.
As for the reply, he believed Mr. Leme would find a way.
Hedwig: Thank you for considering my overseas trip.
Dinner was quite sumptuous, Aunt Penny's cooking was pretty good, otherwise... Uncle Vernon and Dudley wouldn't have been fed to such a rotund state.
Sometimes Harry thought, if Aunt Penny opened a pig farm, she'd surely make a fortune.
Look at these two at home...
The meal was eaten in silence, and just when Harry thought the dinner would pass like that, Uncle Vernon unexpectedly spoke.
"Harry."
Harry was a bit surprised; it was the first time Uncle Vernon called him by his name.
Usually, it was "boy," "freak," "Potter," "Harry Potter," but this was the first time he called him Harry.
"Is there something wrong?" he asked casually.
"Dudley told me, about that magic potion." Uncle Vernon said, his face flushed, as if finding it hard to say the next words: "Do you really think it works? Of course I'm not... uh, anyway, does it really work?"
"It certainly works, Uncle." Harry said, pulling out the glowing potion from his pocket and placing it on the table: "Just add a little to the food, and whoever eats it will feel very happy—wanna give it a try?"
"I can." Uncle Vernon nodded in agreement.
Harry pulled out the stopper and poured a little into Uncle Vernon's cup.
Uncle Vernon picked up the cup and drank it all in one go.
Soon, Uncle Vernon's mouth started to twitch uncontrollably into a smile.
"I feel very happy."
He turned to look at Harry, with an indescribable expression.
"Honestly, in more than ten years, it's the first time I've found you so pleasing to the eye, it's like looking at Dudley..."
He realized something was off at this point.
"Good heavens! It really works?!"
"Just as I said." Harry shrugged.
"Thank you." Uncle Vernon patted Harry on the back, "I owe you one, kid."
Harry smiled at Uncle Vernon.
On Harry's birthday, at noon, he even received a giant birthday cake.
His little room was already piled up with birthday gifts from friends, and Ron's letter, anxiously asking him why he hadn't come over as a guest, since he had been waiting a long time, and the whole family was looking forward to his arrival.
Harry quickly replied, telling him he'd come over that afternoon.
At lunchtime, Harry told his uncle and aunt that he wouldn't be home for dinner that night—especially explaining that his owl had already left.
After receiving Uncle Vernon's insincere invitation to stay, Harry waved his hand to refuse.
Then he took Pabi along, called a taxi, and arrived at the front of the Broken Cauldron Bar.
Inside the Broken Cauldron Bar, Ron was sitting and waiting.
Seeing Harry enter, Ron quickly put down his butter beer and ran over.
"Harry! Happy birthday!" he said.
"Thank you, Ron." Harry said, beaming and patting his shoulder.
"By the way, we have to wait a bit." Ron glanced behind Harry, "My dad should be here soon, and then we can all head home together."
Just as he finished speaking, the door to the Broken Cauldron Bar opened again.
A slightly thin middle-aged man walked in from outside, and Harry noticed he was thinning on top, but the remaining hair was just as red as Ron's.
It was undoubtedly Ron's dad, Arthur Weasley.
He was wearing a green robe, looking a bit travel-worn.
"Dad." Ron waved.
Mr. Weasley, seeing Ron, waved back and walked to the table.
"Get me a beer!" he called out, collapsing into a chair, removing his glasses, eyes closed, looking exhausted.
"What a tough day!" Mr. Weasley muttered, "Those Aurors dropped the ball, now we have to clean up the mess—"
"What happened, Dad?" Ron asked, then introduced, "Dad, this is Harry, the Harry Potter I've always talked about."
"Harry?" Mr. Weasley said blankly, "Which Harry?"
He looked around and saw the unassuming Harry sitting quietly by the side and immediately jumped up.
"Oh my goodness, is it Harry Potter? Great to meet you, Ron has told us so much about you... Hello, I'm Arthur Weasley, Ron's dad, thank you for helping Ron at school."
"Hello, Uncle Arthur, it's what I should do." Harry replied with a smile, "I saw you seemed pretty busy earlier, is there something urgent?"
Mr. Weasley gave a complex expression and waved his hand, "Oh dear, there was a Dark Wizard in Diagon Alley who imprisoned several Muggles, but they were saved by some unknown kind wizard—who then forgot to wipe the Muggles' memories, and they went out, publicizing everything in the Muggle newspapers, it really gave us a headache... And tonight, we'll probably have to go out again to wipe those Muggles' memories..."