"Boy, listen to me."
Vernon looked at Harry, hesitated for a moment, then spoke.
"If someday that magic school doesn't want you anymore, you can go to Smeltings with Dudley... you understand what I mean, right?"
Harry: "I don't understand."
"I mean, last time you helped quite a bit in securing that large order from Mr. Mason. If you don't have a school to attend, I can let you and Dudley attend the same school."
"Not Stonewall High?"
"That place isn't suitable for you," Vernon said with a stern face. "Dudley said that on the first day at Stonewall High, they stick new students' heads in toilets."
Hearing this, Harry couldn't help but burst out laughing.
"What are you laughing at? If you want to go to Stonewall High, that's fine too!"
"No need, I think I should be able to successfully stay at Hogwarts until graduation."
"Hmph, that would be best!"
"Thank you, Uncle Vernon." Harry said sincerely.
"Hmph, don't think I'm being nice to you. I just don't want people talking and making fun of us!"
"Yes, yes, yes..."
After Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia left, Harry smiled even more brightly.
This was the first time in thirteen years that Privet Drive had given him the feeling of home.
It turned out that the Dursley family, who had always disliked him, weren't so detestable after all.
Recalling last year, that Hufflepuff boy named Ernie had even said that he hated the Dursley family, so he would attack Muggles.
Harry couldn't help but shake his head. That boy had really thought too poorly of him. Even if their relationship hadn't improved, he wouldn't do such things, let alone now.
As he always said, he really was too kind!
Speaking of which, the greatest contributor to his restored normal relationship with the Dursley family was Sherlock.
If this world didn't have Sherlock...
Harry couldn't help but shudder, quickly pushing this terrible thought out of his mind. Just the thought of those suffocating days on Privet Drive, counting on his fingers waiting for school to start, made him feel stifled.
Thinking of Sherlock, Harry felt it was time to have Hedwig write Sherlock a letter.
Or perhaps just call him directly?
That was just like Sherlock—unless there was business, he would never contact Harry on his own initiative.
Just as he was pondering, Dudley's voice suddenly came. "Harry, phone call for you!"
Harry immediately jumped up.
What perfect timing.
It must be Sherlock!
Because besides him, only Hermione had ever called him.
But Hermione had gone to France right after the holidays.
What was that saying again?
When you eliminate all the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth!
Harry happily went to the living room, only to see Dudley holding his arm out straight, holding the phone receiver a full foot or two away from his ear.
"What are you doing?"
Seeing him like this, Harry was completely puzzled.
"Perfect timing!"
Seeing Harry approach, Dudley suddenly flashed him a smile.
Harry immediately felt something was amiss.
In the past, when their relationship hadn't yet improved, every time Dudley showed this smile, it meant he was planning to bully Harry somehow.
Now that their relationship had normalized, he shouldn't be showing such a mischievous grin.
The next moment, Dudley shouted into the receiver: "Harry's here."
Then he pressed the phone to Harry's ear. Harry instinctively took the receiver, and saw Dudley take a big step to the side.
Harry was even more surprised by this. It was just passing a phone, not a bomb—was this really necessary?
But then he understood.
"HARRY!"
A booming voice came from the other end of the phone, as if shouting to the other end of a football field:
"IT'S RON—CAN—YOU—HEAR—ME—TALKING?"
Harry: !★,°:.☆(￣▽￣)/$:.°★
For a moment, Harry felt like his ears were about to be deafened.
Harry finally understood why Dudley had held the receiver so far away, and why he had pressed it so close to Harry's ear.
Obviously, he had already been tortured by Ron's booming voice.
"Ron, it's Harry, you..."
"HAR—RY, ARE—YOU—OKAY?"
"Stop!"
Harry quickly interrupted Ron: "Just talk normally as if I'm right beside you. You don't need to shout so loudly—I can hear you."
"REAL—LY?"
"...Yes, really! If you keep this up, I'm hanging up!"
Harry felt utterly helpless. Looking around, he saw Dudley already rolling on the floor laughing.
There was no help for it. Pure-blood wizard children's understanding of the Muggle world was about the same as Muggle children's understanding of the magical world—they were absolutely clueless.
Next, Ron finally heeded Harry's advice and stopped shouting.
He was calling today mainly to tell Harry some good news.
Ron's father, Arthur Weasley, had struck it lucky.
Really struck it lucky!
He had won the Daily Prophet's annual grand prize—a full seven hundred Galleons.
Without doubt, this was a fortune.
After family discussion, the Weasleys planned to use this money to go to Egypt.
It just so happened that Ron's eldest brother, Bill Weasley, was working in Egypt for Gringotts Wizarding Bank as a curse-breaker.
They could visit Bill while having him as a guide for a proper vacation.
According to Ron, they would be staying in Egypt for the next month.
Ron's voice came through the phone, and even without seeing him in person, Harry could feel his excitement:
"You know what, Harry? I've never seen so much money in my life! The gleaming Galleons nearly blinded my gnomy eyes!"
"Uh... your metaphors are always so refreshingly unique."
"Haha, what about you? Have the Muggles been giving you any more trouble?"
"No, I've been having a very pleasant summer..."
They chatted for a long time before Ron reluctantly hung up.
"Uh... sorry Dudley, Ron was quite loud just now."
"No big deal," Dudley waved generously. "That kid was pretty interesting though. He really doesn't know how to use a phone?"
"Yes, it was his first time making a phone call."
"Good lord, how old is he?"
"Same age as us—thirteen this year."
"Unbelievable! Thirteen years old and still doesn't know how to make a phone call—that makes him even dumber than me!"
"..."
Harry wanted to say "at least you know yourself," but decided against it.
After all, Dudley's reaction was more curiosity and surprise than anger, so there was no need to insult him.
They chatted a bit more before Dudley, feeling hungry, went to his room to eat snacks. His appetite was even more impressive than Ron's.
Harry firmly remembered Sherlock's advice about not giving him all the snacks at once, and now it proved absolutely correct.
Otherwise, he really would eat however much was given.
Thinking of Sherlock again, Harry felt he should call Sherlock now.
While dialing, he reflected that he had indeed committed an empiricism error.
He had started making deductions without eliminating all possibilities, naturally arriving at a completely wrong answer.
If it were Sherlock, he definitely wouldn't make such a mistake.
Thinking about it carefully now, it wasn't just Ron who had called him—Cho Chang and Ginny could both potentially call him too.
However, Cho Chang had already returned to her hometown and might not contact him for a while.
As for Ginny, given that Ron had already called him, it was unlikely she would contact him as well.
Just then, the phone rang for the third time and was answered:
"Hello?"
Hearing a woman's voice answer the phone, Harry immediately focused and said:
"Hello, Mrs. Holmes. This is Harry. Could you please call Sherlock for me?"
Having just learned his lesson from Ron, Harry spoke this politely and flawlessly. However, the other end fell into an eerie silence.
The most frightening thing is when the air suddenly goes quiet.
At this moment, Harry could even hear his own heartbeat.
Just as Harry was full of confusion, wondering if he had said something wrong like Ron, the other end of the phone burst into light laughter, with a hint of teasing:
"Mrs. Holmes? Mr. Potter, to address me that way, you'd have to ask Sherlock if he agrees first."
Harry immediately realized what had happened, his eyes widening as his voice involuntarily rose:
"It's you, Gemma Farley!"
This time, he finally recognized the voice, so his tone was full of surprise.
"Pot—ter, calling a senior like that isn't very polite, you know."
Gemma deliberately drew out her tone, her words carrying a playful note:
"And according to your earlier address, I should now be called Gemma Holmes, shouldn't I? ヾ(^▽^*)))"
Though he couldn't see Gemma's appearance, Harry's mind immediately conjured the image of her lounging lazily on a sofa with a mischievous smile at the corner of her mouth.
Harry scratched his head somewhat awkwardly, trying to explain. "Sorry, Prefect Farley, I was just so surprised, so..."
"Your surprise is because you didn't expect me to be at Sherlock's house?" Gemma seemed to see through Harry's thoughts and directly voiced his confusion.
"Yes..."
Harry answered honestly, his curiosity growing stronger.
"Well, considering how honest you are, I forgive you."
Gemma laughed again, then raised her voice to shout.
"Sherlock, your phone call! It's Harry Potter!"
Harry listened as Gemma called out his full name and couldn't help but smile wryly inwardly.
This senior said she forgave him, but still wouldn't pass up the chance to tease him.
Girls really are all so petty.
"Harry?"
When Sherlock's familiar voice, carrying its characteristic coolness, came through the receiver, Harry immediately snapped back to attention and quickly asked:
"It's me—Sherlock, why is Prefect Farley at your house?"
The moment the words left his mouth, Harry regretted them.
This question sounded exactly like Hermione's tone when she questioned why Sherlock was always nowhere to be found.
However, Sherlock's answer surprised him even more.
"Actually, I'd very much like to know the answer to that question myself."
Sherlock on the other end turned to look at Gemma, who was watching him with interest, then turned back to the phone: "She says she's here to visit."
"Uh..."
Harry was momentarily speechless. He knew Gemma and Sherlock got along well, but he really hadn't expected Gemma to directly show up at Sherlock's house.
"This isn't important. Let's talk about why you called me instead."
Sherlock's voice remained calm: "I can sense you have something to tell me."
"Actually, it's not really anything important..."
Harry took a deep breath and began to slowly recount everything.
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