Hogwarts: I am Harry's eldest cousin

Chapter 18: Is This My Letter?

A month passed in the blink of an eye, and the 'Glass Mysterious Disappearance Incident' in the reptile house was naturally blamed on Harry. After all, strange things had happened around him since childhood.

It couldn't be entirely termed as strange; it was just Harry's nature.

For this, the Dursleys gave Harry the harshest punishment—no smoked bacon for a week, deprived of the right to drink soda, and only allowed to eat fish and chips.

Harry wore a mournful face, looking utterly dejected.

In reality, fish and chips weren't really that bad. They tasted quite good the first time he had them.

But whenever Petunia was too lazy to cook, she would serve this dish, and over time, you wouldn't find it appetizing.

The cod, frozen stiff for too long, lacked any texture, coupled with the dry fries—this was definitely an unappetizing meal.

According to Harry's recollection, he didn't feel happy at all that week.

One day in July.

At this time, Harry was helping Petunia with the cleaning.

"Dursley, a letter for your family."

The voice of the mailman came from outside the door. Then came the sound of the mailbox clicking, but the letters didn't land in the box; they scattered on the doormat.

Vernon was lying on the sofa, reading the newspaper, and just happened to see Dudley, who had finished morning exercises and showered, coming out.

"Dudley, go get the mail."

"Sure." Dudley walked to the door and retrieved the letters—three in total.

One was a postcard from Aunt Marge, who was traveling elsewhere. One was a bill, seemingly for electricity. The last one had 'Harry Potter' written as the recipient.

The handwriting was in emerald green ink. No postage stamp. On the other side of the envelope, there was a wax seal with a shield emblem, and the letter 'H' was circled by a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake.

'What will come will come'.

Dudley carefully checked the mailbox, making sure there was no letter for himself. A sense of inexplicable loss overwhelmed him.

Casually handing over the bill and postcard to Vernon, he held the last letter in front of Vernon.

"Oh, goodness. Marge is sick." Vernon said to Petunia, "Ate some bad snails."

Then he opened the envelope with the bill, hummed disdainfully, as nobody liked bills, and glanced at the last letter in Dudley's hand.

"Dudley, is this your letter? What a strange material, parchment? Who uses this nowadays?"

"This is Harry's." Dudley shook the 'recipient' section in front of Vernon.

As soon as he said this, the house instantly became eerily quiet—like the silence before a storm.

Vernon, Petunia, and Harry all looked at Dudley, or rather, the letter in his hand.

'Who would send Harry a letter?'

This question puzzled not only the Dursleys but also Harry.

'Yeah, who would send me a letter?'

Vernon snatched the letter from Dudley, opened it with one hand, and started reading. Harry didn't mind; he just wanted to know what was written inside, so he leaned over.

Vernon only read the first line, and his face changed from red to blue, faster than a traffic light. Within seconds, his face turned as gray as oatmeal.