June slipped away quietly, and before anyone noticed, July first arrived. That was when the summer heat finally dragged itself in.
The temperature climbed a little over thirty degrees. Not scorching hot, but hot enough that you wanted lighter clothes.
"Ever think about trying a skirt, Lia?"
After a few days of hanging out, Lynn had officially become the person Holly trusted most. Now that she knew what he really was, she could actually relax around him.
"I'm not used to it. It feels breezy… like the wind is going right up underneath."
Holly answered on instinct, then immediately slapped a hand over her mouth.
"Aunt Petunia made me try it, it wasn't—"
"Kilts are skirts and guys wear those. Nothing weird about it. High heels and stockings were for men first too."
"Really?" Holly blinked. She hadn't known that. Her resistance toward skirts eased by a fraction.
"See? That's why reading is useful."
Lynn closed the magazine he'd been flipping through and stood from the couch.
"Breakfast is ready."
Petunia's voice floated in from the kitchen. Lynn had come over this morning as a guest… and also to mooch a meal.
Petunia and Vernon actually liked him. His clothes were simple, but he was clean, well-mannered, and looked like the kind of quiet boy who never caused trouble. And most importantly, he'd helped Dudley in a big way.
"Dudley! Breakfast!" Petunia roared toward the second floor. Ever since Holly arrived, Dudley's royal status at home had plummeted to rock bottom. He got smacked by his parents whether he deserved it or not because he kept slacking off during exercise.
"Almost— huff— almost d-done with my run!"
The heavy gasping echoed from behind his door. He hadn't even bothered to close it.
Dudley didn't have the willpower to lose weight on his own, but that wasn't a real problem.
Lynn, the kind-hearted "three-good student" who helped anyone with a pulse, didn't hesitate to lend a hand when he saw Dudley's situation. And since he happened to have the perfect item…
The tiny rocket-shaped gadget looked like a toy.
[Forced Exercise House]
Once the switch was pressed, any room it was installed in turned into a mandatory training chamber. The floor became a treadmill. The bed turned into a trampoline. Arm-strength machines, weights, pull-up bars, pommel horses, obstacle courses—everything you could imagine popped out.
This one was secondhand, though. It couldn't cover the entire Dursley house, but Dudley's room? More than enough.
The downside was that secondhand models couldn't be turned off once they started. They ran for at least an hour and a half before shutting down on their own.
Dudley's nightmare began.
Morning training. Noon training. Evening training. Three workouts a day. And with his diet controlled, he slimmed down fast enough to see the difference with the naked eye.
He'd evolved from a pampered, overfed house pig into a sturdier free-range pig that ran around the hills. The quality had improved, and the Dursleys were thrilled.
Maybe because of Holly, the couple who used to fear anything supernatural started accepting these strange abilities bit by bit.
Lynn had insisted repeatedly that it wasn't magic, just future tech. The Dursleys smiled politely and didn't believe a single word.
Future tech doing this? Sure. And pigs fly spaceships in sci-fi films too.
Whatever it was, the Forced Exercise House worked beautifully. Watching their son change did wonders for how they treated Lynn.
About ten minutes later, a completely drenched Dudley tumbled down the stairs. Sweat soaked him so thoroughly his clothes could be wrung out like rags.
"Go shower, you stink!"
Vernon barked at him, and Dudley staggered toward the first-floor bathroom like a zombie. There used to be one on the second floor, but that was practically Holly's private bathroom now. If Dudley wanted to shower, he had to go downstairs.
"Yeah…"
He barely managed a croaky answer before dragging his leaden legs inside. Moments later, he shrieked under freezing cold water. Two minutes later, he came out shivering but refreshed, towel-drying his hair.
He had just reached the living room when letters dropped through the mail slot.
"Get the mail, Dudley," Vernon muttered without looking up from the newspaper.
"I can go." Holly stood up with the dishes she'd just finished cleaning.
"Let Dudley go. He needs the exercise."
Dudley shot his father a betrayed look, sighed miserably, and trudged to the door. "Fine, I'll go…"
A moment later, he burst back in, bouncing with excitement. He held four envelopes in his hands.
"One of these is for Ha— Lia! And—"
"Hogwarts?" Petunia shot up, cutting him off. She snatched the letters from his hand and scanned them.
"One's from Marge, one's a bill…" She tossed the extras on the table and stared at the third. Her voice trembled as she read the address.
Surrey
Little Whinging
4 Privet Drive
■■ Potter ■■
The name line had been crossed out and rewritten so many times it was just a messy black block. Hogwarts' mailing enchantments must have malfunctioned, unable to figure out what they were supposed to call the child at that address.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(President of the International Confederation of Wizards, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, First Class Sorcerer of the Order of Merlin)
Dear Potter ■■,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enclosed is a list of all necessary books and equipment.
The term begins on September first. A Hogwarts professor will arrive at your residence on the day this letter is received to provide guidance for your enrollment.
Deputy Headmistress
Minerva McGonagall
"So there's one for me too?"
While Petunia read aloud, Lynn noticed the fourth envelope on the table. His own name was written across it.
"Why wouldn't there be?" Holly blinked at him. "You already know how to use magic, don't you?"
"If I told you what I use isn't magic, but psychic powers…" Lynn held up both hands. He wasn't lying.
"Do you think I'd believe that?" Holly flicked a finger against his forehead. "I'm not stupid."
"Hogwarts professors…"
Petunia's eyes unfocused as an old memory unlocked. When Lily got her letter, a professor had visited too. For Muggle-borns, it was required. A professor had to convince their parents magic was real.
Holly's situation clearly caught Hogwarts' attention. And since the system had no template for "child suddenly changed gender," they had probably panicked the first time they noticed the glitch.
"When are they coming?"
Petunia glanced at the living room clock.
7:43 a.m.
At that exact moment, the roar of a motorcycle engine echoed from outside. It stopped right in front of the house, followed by approaching footsteps.