"Privet Drive, we've arrived! Passengers who need to get off—that's you four—can hop out now."
"Hope to see you again on the Knight Bus! I'm your conductor, Stan Shunpike!"
With a screeching halt, the wildly swerving bus finally came to a stop.
The scenery that had been blurring past the windows became clear again.
Lining the quiet, tidy street were rows of identical two-story houses with red-tiled roofs. A few cars were parked here and there, and the occasional chirp of birds broke the silence.
Everything seemed calm and peaceful—except for the triple-decker bus parked smack in the middle of the road, which had just nudged the bumper of the car in front of it.
That car immediately started blaring its alarm.
Daphne, Malfoy, and Pansy, hands over their mouths, bolted off the bus as if their lives depended on it. They didn't even spare a wave for Stan. Though they'd been on the bus for barely ten minutes, it felt like an eternity.
"Edward, are you insane? Why on earth would you choose to ride that thing?" Daphne gasped, gulping down fresh air and staring incredulously at Edward, who looked perfectly composed.
"Me? Oh, mostly for… training, I guess?" Edward replied casually.
"Training?!" Pansy clung to Daphne's arm to keep from collapsing. "Training for what? How's this any different from throwing me into a dragon's stomach?"
"Training my nerve," Edward said, still calm as ever.
"The great Harry Potter lives here?" Malfoy, finally done retching, scanned the Muggle neighborhood with a mix of disdain and curiosity. "Honestly, this whole street's smaller than my front garden. Which one's Number 4? And can someone make that bus shut up?"
Just as they started looking for Number 4 Privet Drive, a red-faced, fist-waving man burst out of a nearby house.
"Blast it! Who hit my car? I just had it serviced last week!"
The hefty man grumbled and circled his car, too bulky to bend down properly. Instead, he flopped onto the ground to inspect the tiny scratch on his bumper.
Daphne, Malfoy, and Pansy stared at the Muggle like he was some bizarre creature, instinctively stepping back.
To them, he was acting like an over-the-top lunatic.
Only Edward stepped forward, polite as ever. "Hello, sir. You must be Harry's uncle, I presume?"
Vernon Dursley, scrambling up from the ground, recoiled as if Edward had said something vile. He jumped, then squinted nervously at the boy. "Who are you lot?"
"I'm Edward Bedivere, a classmate of Harry's at Hogwarts," Edward answered courteously.
"There's no Harry Potter here! No Hogwarts either! It's all nonsense—lies! You're all mad!" Vernon's face turned a livid purple as he roared, "Get lost, you little lunatics! Off my doorstep! Now! Right this instant!"
He lunged to shove Edward back, but the boy didn't budge. Vernon tried again, harder, with no luck.
Edward tilted his head, his expression almost asking, Are you even trying?
Thanks to the Blessing of Mercy, Edward could read Vernon like an open book. This was definitely Harry's uncle, Vernon Dursley, and Harry was likely inside the house next door.
When Vernon realized he couldn't move Edward, he snarled, "Scram, or I'm calling the police!"
He turned and half-ran across his neatly trimmed lawn toward his front door, desperate to escape.
But Edward was faster. Before Vernon reached the door, Edward was already there, waiting.
"Sir, we just need to see Harry for a moment. It won't disrupt your life," Edward said earnestly.
"Can't you understand plain English, boy?" Vernon bellowed, furious. "I said, get lost!"
He couldn't fathom how this polite, handsome kid could be connected to that wretched Harry Potter. What's wrong with the world?
"You're the one who needs to get lost, Muggle." A cold voice cut through before Edward could respond.
"How dare you talk to us like that?" Malfoy had had enough.
He even drew his wand.
"Normally, I don't agree with Draco, but this time's an exception," Daphne said, pulling out her wand.
"I've never tried flashing my wand in front of a Muggle before," Pansy added, drawing hers too.
The three Slytherins stood in a neat row behind Edward, their gazes now carrying a hint of menace. They'd had enough of this pathetic Muggle insulting wizards.
Edward, still wearing his charming smile, asked, "So, Mr. Dursley, can you open the door and let us find Harry now?"
Under the influence of his Level 2 Blessing of Glory, Vernon's expression shifted from rage to terror in a split second. His legs wobbled, and he gripped the wall to avoid collapsing onto the doormat.
"Hold on, you lot, calm down! I mean—wait, I just remembered!" Vernon stammered, grasping at a lifeline. "You little brats can't use those things outside school, can you? Harry got a letter about it just the other day! Ha!"
Malfoy, Daphne, and Pansy froze, their faces stiffening.
How did this Muggle know about that?
Had Potter been casting spells on these Muggles at home?
For a moment, Malfoy found himself oddly impressed by Harry. Even his father wouldn't dare break that rule so casually, let alone an underage wizard.
"Potter can't use magic, but that doesn't mean we can't," Malfoy sneered, stepping closer to intimidate the fat Muggle. "You'd do well to remember that some people are always above others, no matter where they are."
Edward raised a hand, signaling Malfoy to ease off.
"If we accidentally cast a spell, we'd be in trouble," Edward said with a shrug. "But just because we can't use wands doesn't mean we're out of options."
A gleaming silver sword appeared in Edward's hand, so suddenly that Vernon didn't even see where it came from.
"Just a sword, eh? You think that'll scare me? I've got a shotgun in the house!" Vernon scoffed, trying to dismiss the blade—until Edward raised it to chest level, and faint green sparks flickered along the edge.
That eerie glow sent a chill down Vernon's spine, his hair standing on end.
Edward wasn't worried about consequences. Enchanting a sword, as he'd done during a previous ambush, wasn't something the Ministry could track.
"Now, Mr. Dursley, can we go inside to find Harry?" Edward asked again.
He dialed back the Blessing of Glory just enough to avoid sending Vernon into a full-blown panic, which would've caused unnecessary complications.
Vernon stood frozen for a moment, then deflated like a punctured balloon. With a defeated sigh, he fumbled for his keys.
But before he could unlock the door, it swung open from the inside.
A thin woman in a housekeeping apron peeked out, her wide eyes darting curiously. "What's going on, Vernon? Is the car—?"
Her question died as she spotted the four children at the doorstep—three holding oddly shaped sticks and the one in front brandishing a sword glowing with an unsettling green aura.
Petunia's plate slipped from her hands, shattering on the floor. She clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a scream.
Wizards at our door! Four of them! What will the neighbors think?
"Mr. Dursley, won't you invite us in?" Edward said, picking up on the couple's fears. "Or would you rather the neighbors see four strangers loitering at your doorstep?"
"Fine! Get inside, quick! Don't let anyone see you! And put those blasted sticks away—I mean, your wands!" Vernon snapped, correcting himself under Malfoy's glare.
Saying the word "wands" seemed to drain him. He collapsed into an armchair by the door, nearly breaking it under his weight.
"Dad? Mum? What's going on? Is someone at the door?" A whiny voice called from the living room.
"Nothing! Nobody! Dudley, stay where you are!" Petunia shrieked, darting back into the living room and slamming the door shut.
The house fell eerily silent, save for Vernon's heavy breathing.
Edward and his three classmates filed inside, closing the front door behind them.
The Dursleys' home was a typical English two-story house. The front door opened directly into the living room, with three bedrooms upstairs and a small cupboard under the stairs.
Without needing to ask Vernon, Edward's gaze drifted to the second floor.
A loud, peculiar squawk—like that of a snowy owl—echoed from up there.
"You go on up, and make it quick. I don't want to stay in a Muggle house any longer than I have to, especially this kind," Daphne said, waving a hand in disgust.
"I'm staying down here too. Muggles are pitifully dim, but some of their stuff is kind of interesting. What's this?" Pansy asked, poking at the black telephone by the door.
"I'll go with you," Malfoy said suddenly.
Though he tried not to breathe in the Muggle-tainted air, he was curious to see what kind of place the famous Harry Potter had grown up in.
The two headed to the first bedroom door upstairs. Edward turned the handle, but it was locked.
"I know, Uncle Vernon! I'll keep Hedwig quiet, but why can't I just let her out at night for a bit?" Harry's frustrated voice came from inside.
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