A group of people watched Harry in shock, their minds somewhat blank.
Harry immediately grabbed Dudley's collar and slammed him against the alley wall.
"Dudley Dursley!!"
A hard-to-suppress growl came from Harry's mouth, like the final warning of a furious beast before an attack.
Dudley looked at Harry's green pupils and inexplicably couldn't exert any strength, the fat on his face trembling constantly with his lips.
"Don't talk about my parents in that tone again!"
Dudley was terrified, nodding repeatedly and apologizing with a crying voice:
"I… I didn't mean to, Harry. I was so angry at the time… I, I, I… I'll never do it again… Sorry, no matter what… I shouldn't have said those things…"
Harry released his grip on Dudley's collar and looked back at the others, who were all lying on the ground, clearly having suffered significant harm from the shockwave.
There was no hint of pity in Harry's eyes; on the contrary, if he hadn't been aching all over from Dudley's beating earlier, he wouldn't have minded giving each of them a kick right then.
"Don't bother me again," Harry said calmly, then turned and left.
Dudley was still a bit slow to react at this point, only able to turn his head and watch Harry limp out of the alley.
However, Harry did not return to Privet Drive. He went to the community park on Gorse Street, next to Privet Drive, and sat alone on a swing, holding his head, full of self-reproach.
He was going to wait here for the Ministry of Magic to arrive.
Uncle Howl had said that the Ministry of Magic had special magic identification techniques that could find Wizards who used magic in front of Muggles and then arrest them.
He just needed to wait here, wait for the Ministry of Magic to come.
Thinking this, he even took off the ring and buried it in the dirt. That way, when he was caught, the Ministry of Magic wouldn't discover that he had a casting tool.
He wouldn't cause any trouble.
With such a nervous feeling, Harry waited until dusk, but no one came looking for him.
He looked at the purplish-red sky and murmured in his heart: "Could it be… I wasn't discovered by the Ministry of Magic?"
"Hey!!"
A sudden shout startled Harry, but then he realized whose voice it was.
Turning his head, he saw Uncle Howl standing by the gate, dressed in a formal suit, a brown overcoat, and a linen newsboy cap.
He raised his hand, took out a pocket watch from his left chest pocket, glanced at the time, and then looked at Harry: "What are you doing? Contemplating life?"
Harry quickly stood up, shaking his head and saying, "No… no."
Howl was a little disappointed: "You're still not contemplating life? Do you have to wait until you're eleven, until you're old, to start thinking?"
"Uh… huh?!"
"I'm marking you absent once and canceling a month of weekends," Howl put the pocket watch back into his clothes, then added, "Of course, tomorrow is an exception, since we've already agreed."
Harry quickly nodded, dug out the ring he had just buried from the ground, and walked quickly towards the park entrance.
Howl glanced at the dirt-stained ring, then led the way towards Privet Drive. Harry walked with his head down, looking like he wanted to say something but held back.
"So what are you doing standing around here like an idiot?" Howl looked at Harry: "Waiting for the Ministry of Magic to come and arrest you?"
Harry froze for a moment, then nodded.
"magic outbursts are very unlikely to attract the Ministry of Magic," Howl explained.
Then he pulled out a wand like a small wooden stick: "The Ministry of Magic can only detect if you've used magic once you possess a wand and have a Trace placed on it."
"What is a Trace?" Harry looked up.
"Currently, it's a safeguard. It can detect if an underage Wizard is casting magic outside of a Wizarding school at will.
This is a derivative of the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Wizardry Act of 1875."
Then, Howl put his wand away again: "This is a regulation specifically for underage Wizards.
There's also another one, which falls under the scope of the International Confederation of Wizards' Statute of Secrecy: any magical activity that might draw the attention of non-Wizarding World members is a serious offense.
This regulation applies to Wizards of all ages. And as long as it attracts the attention of ordinary people, it's considered a violation, regardless of whether or not you used magic."
Harry thought for a moment, then asked, "Then I should have violated the latter, which is the International Confederation of Wizards' Statute of Secrecy!"
Howl nodded, confirming: "That's right, you violated it."
Then Howl looked ahead: "But so what? How does the Ministry of Magic monitor it?"
"Is… that so?"
Howl nodded, then looked at Harry seriously: "But one thing we must affirm is that this doesn't mean we can act recklessly."
Harry shivered, shaking his head and saying, "No, I won't."
As he spoke, he thought of what happened after school, looked up, and stared firmly ahead: "Wouldn't that make me just like Dudley? I wouldn't stoop to being like that."
"Dudley? So that's why you couldn't control your magic?" Howl raised an eyebrow, understanding some of the reasons.
Harry nodded, a little downcast: "Yeah… he said some things… I couldn't hold back…"
Finally, he added: "Sorry, Uncle Howl, I failed to control my emotions…"
Howl shook his head. Harry was already able to control his magic independently, yet he still caused a magical outburst that he couldn't control.
Although it was unclear what Dudley had said, it was certainly very nasty language.
Howl had no intention of blaming Harry; he shook his head:
"Controlling your emotions and staying rational means I hope you can maintain clear thinking at all times, not that you become an unfeeling person.
You didn't do anything wrong; you don't need to apologize."
As he spoke, Howl turned back and carefully scrutinized Harry from head to toe: the uncleaned bloodstains on his nose, his messy clothes, his bruised cheek…
"However… originally, your next step was supposed to be brain development work. Now that I've thought about it, perhaps we should change direction," Howl said.
"Change direction?" Harry looked at Howl, a little confused.
Howl turned around, facing the lingering glow of the setting sun, and slowly raised both arms, his right hand forming a bent fist, his left hand raised, pointing to the sky.
The setting sun cast down from behind Howl, as if he were draped in holy light.
In the shadow, Harry seemed to glimpse a body as perfect as an Ancient Greece sculpture.
"An excellent Wizard should, as a matter of course, possess a golden body!" Howl's voice descended with the setting sun.
Then…
Poof, Howl's belly bulged out.
"Uh… I can't hold it in!" Howl suddenly deflated like a punctured ball, touching his newly appeared potbelly, a little helpless: "I've gained so much weight recently…"