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If that letter had truly been meant for Dudley, there was no longer any way to confirm it.
Unless he could ask whoever had sent it — and under the current circumstances, that was impossible.
"Let's get out of here!"
After completely destroying all the letters, Vernon tried to appear calm. But the way he kept tearing at his own hair made it clear that, inside, he was anything but.
"In five minutes we're leaving. Go upstairs and grab some clothes. No arguments!"
His expression was more serious and determined than Dudley had ever seen.
"I will not let my family get involved with those damned freakish things!"
Soon after, the entire Dursley family was inside their new car. Vernon drove in silence, shoulders stiff. Petunia kept her head lowered, muttering something under her breath. Dudley managed to catch part of it, repeated almost like a mantra:
"Throw them off… throw them off…"
The atmosphere inside the car was suffocating.
Dudley drifted into thought. The situation was nearly identical to the book he had read — the entire family running away.
But there was something he had never understood: if the Dursleys hated Harry so much, why insist on taking him along? If the problem was letters addressed to Harry Potter, why not simply leave him behind?
Vernon and Petunia knew perfectly well the letters were meant for Harry, not for them.
And yet, they brought him.
The car drove all day until they reached a hotel on the outskirts of a large city.
Compared to the slowness of Muggle methods — driving for hours — wizards had far more efficient means: Apparition, Floo Powder, Portkeys…
And yet, when they arrived at the hotel, there was already a stack of letters waiting for them.
Dudley had the distinct impression his father was on the verge of madness.
And for the first time, he felt a flicker of irritation at the way the wizarding world was handling this.
When they needed someone to raise a child, they simply left him at their doorstep.
For eleven years.
Eleven years without visits, without follow-ups, without any real concern.
Now that he was old enough to attend school, and the magical world needed him, all they had to do was send a letter and take him away?
Without even asking the legal guardians for their opinion?
What did they think the Dursleys were?
What did they think Harry was?
Someone to summon when convenient and discard when not?
Couldn't they send someone to talk properly?
Was it amusing to toy with Muggles?
Were these the great and noble wizards?
To Dudley, it sounded more like arrogance.
"I found the perfect place!"
Vernon burst into the hotel room with bloodshot eyes. He hadn't slept properly in days.
The so-called "perfect place" was a massive rock in the middle of the sea, with an old two-story shack shaped like a lighthouse, completely abandoned.
No electricity.
No gas.
Nothing.
If they wanted to cook, they would have to use firewood.
When night fell, the Dursleys went to bed early. They were exhausted after days of constant tension.
Not long after, the simple scent of food drifted from the small improvised kitchen.
Dudley set a few basic plates and a bowl of long noodles in front of Harry.
"Happy birthday, Harry."
He spoke with a hint of guilt.
"With what we've got here, this was the best I could do. I'll give you your present when we get back home."
Then he placed a small improvised cake on the table, made only from flour and eggs. There was no frosting, no cream, not even a drizzle of honey.
Even so, Harry smiled.
His cousin had never forgotten his birthday.
"Thanks, D."
He began eating the noodles in large bites, his face glowing with simple happiness.
Before long, the bowl was empty and most of the cake was gone.
Then, suddenly, Harry spoke in a low voice.
"D… if they only want me… then just let them take me."
His fingers tightened.
"Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia are suffering because of me. I don't want anyone getting hurt because of me."
Even without reading the letter, Harry had already understood that he was the target.
Dudley patted him on the shoulder.
"Relax. If you don't want to go, we won't let anyone take you."
Over the past few days, the way the wizards had been handling this — almost as if mocking them — had left Dudley slightly resentful.
At the tips of his fingers, a small golden spark flickered.
Hamon Energy.
At his belt pouch, potion vials were carefully arranged.
Dudley did not like violence.
But he was never opposed to using it when necessary.
Some time later, exhausted, Harry wrapped himself in his blanket and fell asleep.
Dudley remained seated cross-legged, regulating his breathing, raising his condition to its peak.
The peculiar breathing rhythm made blood laced with golden arcs circulate throughout his body.
And so, hours passed.
Outside, something creaked.
Since they were on a rock surrounded by sea, it could have been just the wind or the old wood of the house.
But Dudley slowly opened his eyes.
His gaze was sharp as blades.
He knew what would happen.
Someone was about to enter.
"BOOM!"
A colossal force struck the door. The entire shack trembled, and Harry jolted awake, still wrapped in his blanket.
Vernon, in pajamas, ran downstairs holding a shotgun. Petunia followed behind, pale.
The next instant, with a deafening crash, the door was ripped from its hinges and slammed onto the floor.
In the doorway stood a gigantic man — taller than the doorframe itself. Dudley easily estimated he was over three meters tall. His face was almost completely hidden behind long hair and a thick, tangled beard. Beneath that mass, two eyes gleamed like black beetles.
The giant bent down to squeeze through the entrance. Then, casually, he picked up the fallen door and leaned it back against the frame.
"Think I could get a cup of tea? With milk, if you've got it. Quite a remote place, this."
As if visiting his own home, he crossed the room and sat on the sofa. The springs groaned under his weight.
"Ah! Harry. So you're Harry!"
The giant let out a thunderous laugh.
"Last time I saw you, you were this small."
He pinched his thumb and forefinger together, indicating something tiny.
"You look just like your dad… but your eyes — those are your mum's."
Harry stared at him in shock.
"You knew my parents?"
He barely managed to get the question out before Vernon shouted:
"I want you out of here immediately!"
"This is trespassing!"
He aimed the shotgun straight at the giant.
"Dursley, you great idiot. That thing won't work on me."
With a simple motion, the giant reached over the sofa, snatched the gun from Vernon's hands, and twisted the barrel into a knot as if it were rubber.
"What do you want?"
Vernon spread his arms, shielding Petunia, Harry, and Dudley behind him.
"I will protect my family."
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