With the Chinese Chomping Cabbage tucked under his arm, Harry walked down the street, his steps feeling oddly light and buoyant. Although the cabbage had settled into a quiet lull, Harry still felt as if he were carrying a ticking time bomb.
I should have just given this thing back to Mr. Thorn, Harry thought with a twinge of regret. But having already accepted the gift, he couldn't bring himself to simply throw it away.
Tension knotted in his stomach as he reached the front door of Number 4, Privet Drive. Naturally, the one thing he didn't want to see was waiting for him.
Dudley was standing by the door, a sugar stick dangling from his mouth, peering nastily down the street. When his eyes landed on Harry, his pudgy face instantly contorted into its habitual expression of malice.
"Hey, Potter! Didn't Dad tell you to stay inside?" Dudley barked, jutting his chin out.
Harry pressed his lips together and remained silent. He didn't want to engage, but his lack of response clearly incensed Dudley. Seeing that Harry wouldn't speak, Dudley took it as a personal provocation. He spat the sugar stick onto the grass and stomped forward, giving Harry a violent shove.
"Did you hear me, Potter?" Dudley yelled. "What have you been doing out here?"
Harry stumbled, nearly losing his footing. Worse still, his grip on the bundle under his arm slipped. With a wet thwack, the bright green plant hit the pavement.
"This is going to be bad," Harry muttered.
Just as he feared, the Chomping Cabbage was profoundly displeased by the impact. It shook its leaves, snapped open its tooth-filled maw, and let out a low, predatory hiss like an enraged beast.
"What on earth is that thing?!" Dudley's eyes went wide with a mix of terror and disgust. "I'm warning you, don't you dare bring that disgusting freak-thing into my house!"
Harry frowned, knowing that every second they lingered made a scene more likely. He knelt down, reaching out to quickly snatch the cabbage back up. However, the cabbage had no intention of cooperating; it was far faster than Harry expected.
With a sudden, spring-like coil, the cabbage launched itself into the air, aiming straight for Dudley's midsection.
"AAAAAH!" Dudley let out a blood-curdling shriek, flailing his meaty arms in a desperate attempt to ward off the green monster.
But the cabbage was impossibly nimble. It scrambled up Dudley's shoulder and delivered a sharp, vicious bite right to his cheek.
"Get it off! Get it off me!" Dudley howled, spinning in circles like a panicked boar.
Watching Dudley lose his mind, Harry felt a surge of panic—but beneath it, a tiny spark of dark satisfaction. After all the years of bullying, this felt like a long-overdue bit of karma.
Fortunately, the cabbage didn't go for the kill. After getting a mouthful of Dudley's blood, it released its grip and hopped back toward Harry. Dudley, clutching his face and wailing, scrambled into the house, slamming into the hallway wall with a dull thud. He bolted up the stairs with a surprising, fear-induced agility, screaming, "Mummy! Mummy! A monster bit me!"
Of course, there was no reply. Aunt Petunia hadn't returned home yet. Dudley eventually stumbled into his bedroom and threw the bolt on his door.
Harry stood alone on the porch, watching the cabbage proudly rustle its leaves. He knelt and gingerly scooped it into his hands. "Good job, little guy."
"But please, no more biting," Harry whispered. "He's a nightmare, I know, but we can't actually send him to the hospital, can we?"
The cabbage gave a slight tilt of its leaves, which Harry took as an agreement. He let out a sigh of relief; at least the creature seemed to understand him. He looked at the green ball in his hands, his brow furrowing. "Now... where am I going to hide you?"
The Dursleys' garden was out of the question; if anyone saw it, there would be an uproar. Eventually, Harry found a cracked, discarded flowerpot in the shed. He filled it with some garden soil, planted the cabbage, and tucked it into the deepest corner of his cupboard under the stairs.
Just as he finished and collapsed onto his thin cot, the sound of the front door opening echoed through the house. The Dursleys were back. Harry sighed, knowing the evening was about to become very loud.
Early the next morning, Harry dragged himself out of bed, rubbing his tired eyes. The previous night had been an ordeal; after Dudley told his parents what happened, Harry had been subjected to two hours of relentless shouting.
At breakfast, Aunt Petunia glared at him with narrowed eyes. "You won't be sneaking out again. I'm keeping my eye on you all day."
Harry glanced at Dudley, who was sneering while stuffing pancakes into his mouth. A large square of gauze was taped to his left cheek, making him look utterly ridiculous.
Harry didn't have the energy to laugh. He stirred his watery porridge, his anxiety mounting. He had promised Alaric Thorn he would return today to continue his Potion studies. If he didn't show up...
Mr. Thorn will be disappointed, Harry thought. Even though he suspected Alaric wouldn't be truly angry, the thought of letting him down stung.
"Eat faster, don't dawdle!" Aunt Petunia snapped. "When you're finished, you're weeding the front garden and sweeping the walk!"
Harry kept his face neutral. "Yes, Aunt Petunia."
He hoped he might find a gap to run for it while working outside, but Aunt Petunia remained stationed by the window, watching his every move like a hawk. Just as Harry was beginning to lose hope, the doorbell rang.
Ding-dong.
"I'll get it!" Petunia called out, disappearing from the window.
A few moments later, her voice echoed from the front door. "Harry! Come here a moment."
Harry walked to the door in confusion. When he saw Alaric Thorn standing on the step, a massive wave of relief washed over him.
"Good morning, Harry!" Alaric greeted him smoothly. "I suspected you might have run into a bit of trouble, so I thought I'd come and collect you."
"Good morning, Mr. Thorn," Harry said, his voice tight with nerves as he risked a glance at his aunt.
To his shock, Aunt Petunia wasn't wearing her usual expression of sour contempt. Instead, she was smiling quite pleasantly at Alaric. Harry froze, then realized—magic.
Alaric noted Harry's stunned expression and added warmly, "I've already spoken with your family. I'll be taking you for the day and will have you back by evening."
"Ah—" Harry started to speak, but Petunia simply nodded in agreement, her gaze glazed and vacant.
"Shall we go, then?" Alaric offered a small smile.
Harry didn't hesitate for another second. He stepped across the threshold and hurried to Alaric's side. "How did you...?" he whispered as they walked away.
"I told Mrs. Dursley that we were conducting a community youth activity. I promised that upon completion, you'd be rewarded with a potted plant," Alaric explained with a wink.
"That sounds completely unbelievable," Harry remarked.
"And yet, magic is quite believable, isn't it?" Alaric shrugged.
He had simply waved his wand and whispered a few words. Altering a Muggle's memory was child's play for him. As long as the Ministry didn't find out, of course...