The roar of the engine was primal, a sound that didn't belong in the quiet, suburban night. It was followed by a deafening crash that shook the house to its very foundations, rattling the windows in their frames.
"A wizard," Dudley stated, his voice a calm whisper in the sudden, ringing silence. Seeing the giant figure clambering off a monstrously large motorcycle on their ruined front lawn didn't shock him. It simply confirmed what he already knew. This was the magical world, and it did not arrive quietly.
"Is he the professor from Hogwarts?" Dudley mused, a flicker of analytical curiosity cutting through the chaos. "This entrance is certainly… theatrical." He had imagined a silent, apparating figure, or perhaps someone on a cliché flying broomstick. A flying motorcycle was a variable he hadn't considered. A cyber-wizard? The thought was absurd, yet in a world that now included magic, he couldn't rule it out.
He opened his bedroom door and stepped into the hallway just as Harry poked his head out of the adjacent room, his face pale with a mixture of terror and awe.
"There's a giant on the lawn," Harry hissed, his voice trembling.
"Yes, I saw him," Dudley replied, his composure unnerving. "He's most likely our teacher from Hogwarts. Let's go down and greet him."
As they reached the bottom of the stairs, a knock that was more like a series of controlled explosions thundered against the front door. Each impact seemed to shake the very soul of Number 4, Privet Drive.
"Blimey, this door's a bit small, isn't it?" a deep, rumbling voice complained from the other side, the sound muffled but impossibly powerful.
Dudley took a steadying breath and opened the door. The figure standing there blocked out the moonlight entirely. He was a mountain of a man, well over eight feet tall, his face a wild landscape of tangled black hair and beard. He wore a moleskin overcoat with so many pockets it looked like a piece of adventuring gear. Beneath the thicket of hair, a pair of bright, beetle-black eyes twinkled with a surprising warmth. He smelled faintly of pine, damp earth, and something like woodsmoke.
"Hello," Dudley said, taking the initiative.
"Oh, hello." The giant's eyes briefly met Dudley's, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths, before sweeping past him. His gaze landed on the thin, intimidated figure of Harry at the bottom of the stairs, and a warm, kind smile bloomed on his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. With a grunt, he squeezed his massive frame through the doorway, which groaned in protest.
"You must be Harry," he boomed, his voice filling the small house. "Long time no see. Name's Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. But just call me Hagrid."
"You… hello," Harry stammered, completely overwhelmed.
"Anyway," Hagrid said cheerfully, ignoring everyone else as he pulled a slightly squashed, grease-stained box from a cavernous inner pocket. "Happy birthday, Harry."
With trembling hands, Harry opened the box. Inside was a sticky, lopsided chocolate cake with "HAPPEE BIRTHDAE HARRY" scrawled across it in bright green icing. It was the most beautiful thing Harry had ever seen.
"Thank you," he whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears.
"You're welcome," Hagrid beamed, his whole face lighting up.
Dudley watched the scene with the detached focus of an observer. This Hagrid knows Harry. He cares for him a great deal. He also noted the giant's pointed dismissal of him. It wasn't simple rudeness; it was a deliberate choice. Interesting, Dudley thought, his mind already working. There's a history here, a narrative I'm not privy to. He felt no personal offense; he was simply gathering data.
"WHO ARE YOU?! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"
Vernon and Petunia finally appeared, drawn by the commotion. Petunia let out a small, strangled shriek at the sight of the behemoth in her hallway. Vernon, his face a blotchy purple, was brandishing a shotgun, though his trembling hands rendered the threat almost comical.
"Dad, this is a professor from Hogwarts," Dudley said calmly. "There's no need for panic."
"Hmph. Dursley," Hagrid snorted, not even deigning to look at Vernon. "A few years haven't been kind to you." He strode into the living room as if he owned the place, the floorboards groaning under his weight. He casually bent the arm of the sofa just by sitting on it.
"You can't… without my permission…" Vernon whimpered, the sight of this monster making himself at home in his tidy living room more terrifying than any threat.
"It's fine, Dad. I'll handle it," Dudley said, a quiet authority in his voice that made Vernon fall silent. He followed Hagrid into the living room, Harry scurrying in after him.
"Never thought a Dursley could have a wizard for a son," Hagrid grumbled, his eyes briefly flicking to Dudley with distaste before settling back on Harry, his expression softening instantly. "Oh, Harry," he said, "last time I saw you, you were just a baby. Only… only this big." He gestured with his massive hands.
After sending off a hastily scribbled note to Dumbledore via a surprisingly lively owl he'd produced from his coat, Hagrid turned his full, undivided attention back to Harry, asking a flurry of questions with genuine, heartfelt concern. Vernon and Petunia huddled in the corner, their faces masks of terror.
Dudley didn't interrupt. He stood to the side, quietly observing. He activated his Spirit Vision. He saw the swirling magical energy within Hagrid, a powerful but rustic and untamed force. But there was something else, too—an overlay of a different kind of light, a raw, physical vitality that pulsed with the rhythm of the earth itself.
He's not entirely human, Dudley realized. Giant's blood. It was the only explanation for his immense size and the unique energy signature. It was different from the creatures he had known. He sensed no evil, no madness from Hagrid, only a simple, formidable presence.
Once Hagrid finally paused for breath, releasing a bewildered Harry from another bone-crushing hug, Dudley saw his opening.
"Ahem." He cleared his throat, the sound cutting through the warm atmosphere like a shard of glass. "If I may be so bold… what exactly happened to Harry's parents? To my aunt and uncle?"
The air in the room instantly solidified. Hagrid's cheerful expression vanished, replaced by a deep, sorrowful shadow. Harry turned to Hagrid, his eyes wide with a desperate, pleading hope. He, too, desperately wanted to know the truth.
***
(End of Chapter)
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