The pillow fight ended in muffled laughter, and perhaps because of that, Dudley never called for help. He simply endured the soft blows, as if it were just another strange game he had learned to tolerate.
For some reason, from that night on, Dudley became Harry's unlikely ally.
During the month leading up to the start of school, Dudley treated Harry in a completely different way—almost as if he were someone worthy of respect.
Harry, however, knew the real reason. It wasn't only fear of magic, though that played a part. The true motivation was a promise: magical snacks when Harry returned home.
Looking at his cousin's increasingly chubby figure, Harry seriously considered brewing a few weight-loss potions in the future.
All seven hundred and fifty pounds he had received from the Dursleys were spent almost entirely on Muggle snacks—especially Coca-Cola.
Only God knew how much Harry had longed for a sip of soda since the Victorian era.
Taking into account the purchasing power of the pound, Harry boarded the Knight Bus alone and returned to Diagon Alley once more, where he bought a trunk enchanted with an Invisible Extension Charm.
He stuffed all the Muggle snacks inside it, and when he saw there was still plenty of room, he added books and clothes as well.
The trunk cost him thirty Galleons.
As the saying goes, you get what you pay for—and Harry was more than satisfied.
The month flew by, and the start of the school year arrived far too quickly.
Since Dudley was also heading to Smeltings, the Dursleys drove to London that morning.
"I've always wondered where your wizard money comes from," Uncle Vernon said suddenly from the driver's seat.
"It's an inheritance from my parents. It's kept at Gringotts," Harry replied casually.
The car screeched to a sudden halt.
Harry nearly slammed into the seat in front of him.
In the rearview mirror, he saw Uncle Vernon's face darken instantly.
Could it be… that he thought he'd been paying child support all these years? Harry wondered, before speaking without thinking.
"I mean… now that I have money, I could even pay the back child support—"
"You're just like your father, Potter!" Vernon roared, twisting around in his seat, his face red with rage. "Arrogant and conceited, exactly like him—"
"My father wasn't arrogant," Harry shot back instinctively. "And neither am I. If you don't mind, could you pull over?"
Vernon snorted and slammed the car into a parking space.
He turned again, bellowing, "Listen here, boy! I don't care how much pure gold you've got in that cursed Gringotts! I love Petunia—love her more than anything! If it weren't for her, do you think I'd let a… a freak like you live in my house?!"
"You know Gringotts?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.
Vernon's face turned an even deeper shade of purple.
"Of course I know Gringotts!" he shouted. "When I met that… that oddball of a father of yours, Petunia said he was unemployed! I even thought about helping him—offering a proper job, despite his lack of a recognized degree! I even considered sponsoring him, but your father—"
"Dursley, for heaven's sake!" Aunt Petunia cried, clutching her collar, her face pale. "You're going to make yourself ill!"
"Like father, like son!" Vernon snapped. "We're at the station. Get out. Now!"
Harry looked up.
King's Cross Station stood right before them.
"Thank you for the ride," Harry said politely, then turned to Dudley. "I'll get out now."
"Don't forget your promise," Dudley whispered.
Harry nodded, took his trunk from the boot, pulled up the handle, and headed toward the station.
That resentment belonged to the previous generation. It had nothing to do with him.
"Platform Nine and Three-Quarters…" Harry murmured as he walked calmly forward.
He wasn't nervous. He had been to this platform before.
Thick steam from the locomotive hung over the crowd. Cats of every color darted between people's legs, owls hooted endlessly, and lively voices blended into a magical symphony announcing the start of the school year.
The carriages were nearly full. Some students leaned out the windows to say goodbye to their families; others laughed loudly, while some ate quietly in their seats.
Harry even spotted a Chocolate Frog leaping out of an open window, leaving its owner furious.
He found an empty compartment toward the back of the train and had just set his trunk down when two identical red-haired boys appeared at the door.
"You're… Harry Potter?" one of them asked, eyes wide.
Before Harry could answer, a woman's voice called from outside.
"Fred, George! Are you on the train already?"
"Coming, Mum!" they replied in unison.
They cast one last curious glance at Harry before running off.
Harry leaned back in his seat, watching the activity on the platform.
He could still hear the woman scolding her sons.
"He's not a zoo animal! Don't stare at the poor boy!"
Her voice faded.
"And I won't have you asking about his scar!" she continued in a hushed tone. "To the world, it's a victory. To him, it meant losing his parents…"
The train whistle blew.
"All right, children. Time to say goodbye," the woman said, kissing each of them on the forehead. "Ron, dear, get on the train. And you two—no letters from professors complaining about your pranks this year!"
The train began to move.
Harry closed his eyes for a moment.
The first day of classes had begun.
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