Whether the letter was truly for Dudley or not was impossible to prove unless he could ask the sender himself, which, given his current predicament, was out of the question.
"We're leaving here!"
After thoroughly destroying all the letters, Vernon tried to keep his composure, but the way he was yanking fistfuls of whiskers from his face told a different story.
"We're leaving this place in five minutes. You lot get a few things packed. No arguments!"
His expression was more serious and grim than Dudley had ever seen it.
"I won't let any of my family have anything to do with that bloody nonsense!"
Soon, the family was in their brand-new car. Vernon drove on in silence, his head down, while Petunia mumbled a prayer under her breath. Dudley could just make out her words: "Get away from them, get away from them..." The atmosphere in the car was unbelievably tense.
Dudley's thoughts were a whirlwind. It was just like in the book—the family was going on a "refugee" trip. Dudley couldn't understand one thing, though: if the Dursleys hated Harry so much, why didn't they just leave him alone at home? Vernon and Petunia had to know that the letters were for Harry and not for them. And yet, they had brought him along.
The drive went on for a whole day before they finally stopped at a motel on the outskirts of a big city. But compared to the slow, steady pace of a Muggle car, wizards were far more efficient, with their Apparition, Floo Powder, and Portkeys. A huge pile of letters was already waiting for them at the motel.
Dudley felt as if his father was on the verge of madness. For the first time, Dudley felt a spark of anger toward these so-called wizards.
They needed a relative to look after him, so they just dumped him on the doorstep. Then they left him for eleven years, not once bothering to check up on him. Now that he was old enough for school and the magical world needed him, a simple letter was all it took to summon him away? Without so much as asking for his guardians' permission?
What do you think we are, the Dursleys?
What do you think Harry is?
They were treating him like a toy, a thing to be called upon and sent away as they saw fit. Couldn't they have just sent someone to have a proper conversation? What was the fun in tormenting Muggles? Was this what being a powerful wizard was all about?
It was unbelievably arrogant.
"I've found the perfect place!"
Vernon burst into their motel room, his eyes bloodshot. He hadn't gotten a decent night's sleep in days. The place he had found was a huge rock in the middle of the sea, topped with a rickety two-story lighthouse. There was no electricity, and they would have to cook with firewood.
Night fell, and the Dursleys went to bed early, completely exhausted from days of fear and worry. A delicious smell wafted from the kitchen, and soon, a few simple dishes and a bowl of noodles were placed in front of Harry.
"Happy birthday, Harry," Dudley said apologetically. "This is all I could manage with the ingredients we have. I'll get you a proper gift when we get home."
He then brought out a simple birthday cake made of flour and eggs, with no cream or honey. But Harry was overjoyed; his big cousin had never once forgotten his birthday.
"Thank you, Big D," Harry said, slurping down his noodles with a happy smile. Soon, the bowl was empty, and most of the cake was gone as well.
But then, Harry suddenly said, "Big D, if they're only after me, just let them take me away."
"Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon have been so miserable lately, and I don't want anyone getting hurt because of me."
Even though Harry hadn't seen the letters, he knew they were meant for him.
Dudley patted his head. "Don't worry. As long as you don't want to go, no one can make you."
The wizards' dismissive taunting had left a deep resentment in Dudley's heart. A golden spark flickered on his fingertip. It was the Hamon breathing. In the pouch on his belt, an assortment of potions were neatly stored. Dudley didn't like using violence, but he was certainly not against it.
A moment later, Harry began to feel sleepy, so he wrapped himself in a blanket and lay down. Dudley remained seated, cross-legged, gathering his energy and raising his readiness to its peak. With each unique rhythmic breath, blood mixed with golden lightning was pumped into his body, charging him up.
He didn't know how much time had passed, but he heard a creaking noise from outside. Since they were on a rock in the middle of the sea, he figured it was normal and paid it no mind. But then Dudley slowly opened his eyes, staring at the door with a gaze as sharp as a sword.
He could feel it—someone was coming.
BOOM!
A giant force slammed into the door, and the entire shack shook. Harry bolted awake, sitting up in his blanket, staring at the door in terror.
Vernon, wearing his pyjamas, stumbled down the stairs holding a rifle, with Petunia following close behind him, looking terrified.
Just then, with a deafening crash, the door flew off its hinges and slammed against the floor, sending up a cloud of dust. Standing in the doorway was a giant of a man, several heads taller than the frame itself. Dudley estimated he was at least three meters tall. His face was almost completely hidden by a long, tangled mane of hair and a bushy beard, but a pair of eyes that shone like black beetles peered out from underneath it all.
The giant ducked and hunched to squeeze into the room, then casually picked up the door and fit it back into the frame.
"I don't suppose you've got a cuppa? Or maybe a spot of milk? This place is a bit out of the way," the giant said, as if he were in his own living room. He strode over to the sofa and sat down, and Dudley could hear the springs underneath the cushions wail.
"Aha, Harry! You're Harry!" the giant boomed, pointing at a stunned Harry. "Last time I saw ya, you were so small." The giant held his thumb and forefinger together, making a small, circular gesture. It was a gesture of a great loss.
"Look at ya, you've got your dad's face, but your mum's eyes."
Before Harry could even ask if the giant knew his parents, Vernon screeched.
"I want you to leave this house at once, sir! You're trespassing!" He said, pointing his rifle at the giant.
"Vernon, you great muggle, that thing's useless against me," the giant said. With a casual flick of his hand, he yanked the gun from Vernon's grasp and bent it into a knot as if it were made of rubber.
"What do you want?" Vernon demanded, spreading his arms and shielding Petunia, Harry, and Dudley like a mother hen. "I will protect my family!"