Chapter 28 – Anglers Never Return Empty-Handed (Vote Please)
No one knew what exactly Petunia and Vernon had discussed the night before. But by the next morning, Vernon seemed like a different man. He no longer grumbled about magic and was instead brimming with enthusiasm for today's trip to Diagon Alley.
If not for knowing Petunia could not use magic, Dudley might have suspected someone had swapped out Vernon's brain.
"When will that Professor… MacDull arrive? I can't wait to see this magical world!"
Reclining on the sofa, Vernon looked unusually excited.
"It's only half past eight. There's still thirty minutes until nine," Dudley said after glancing at the clock. Having just finished his morning training, he wiped off sweat while heading to the bathroom. "And it's Professor McGonagall, not MacDull. Getting someone's name wrong is very rude."
"Oh, Vernon, come look! How do I look in this outfit?"
Petunia's anxious call came from the bedroom, and Vernon rushed over immediately.
Ten minutes later:
"No, this one won't do. The color is too bright."
Another ten minutes:
"No, not this either. Too flashy. I remember Lily saying wizards dress rather plainly."
Staring at a wardrobe stuffed with clothes, Petunia cried out in despair, "Oh dear, I've got nothing to wear!"
Vernon: …
Five minutes later, Dudley came out of the bath, fresh and clean, while Harry stumbled out of his small room, scratching his stomach and yawning. He had been too excited to sleep early and now looked drained.
At last, Petunia reluctantly settled on a suitable outfit.
When the clock struck nine, the Dursleys' doorbell rang right on time.
Professor McGonagall arrived punctually.
"Are we traveling by flying carpet, or will we be flying directly?"
Vernon peered curiously behind her, full of interest.
"Sorry, Mr. Dursley. Flying carpets were banned by the Ministry of Magic in the eighteenth century, at least here in Europe," McGonagall explained. "We generally fly with broomsticks."
"Why were carpets banned?" Dudley asked curiously.
"Because they are considered Muggle-made objects," she replied.
"So the wizarding world rejects the use of things made by ordinary people?"
"More or less," McGonagall said. "For example, items like televisions and computers—common in the Muggle world—cannot be used at Hogwarts."
"Then what do you use for lighting?"
"Candles, oil lamps, and torches," McGonagall answered as though it were the most natural thing.
'That's practically the Middle Ages!'
Dudley's eyes nearly popped out. Even if the items she described were enchanted, their essence remained the same—and none could compare with electric lights.
He frowned slightly. Her words gave him the impression that wizards were insular, refusing to use better conveniences. Was this self-imposed isolation?
The thought of losing access to modern comforts—video games, television, all forms of entertainment—of having to walk at night with only an oil lamp, made Dudley briefly think that not going to Hogwarts might not be so bad after all. The feeling, however, passed quickly.
"It's getting late. We still need to fetch another young witch," McGonagall said, pulling a parchment from her pocket and studying it closely. "Let's see… she lives rather far away. We can use Floo Powder through the nearest wizard's home to reach the Johnsons'. It's about two kilometers on foot. Quite remote, with hardly any wizards nearby."
She added one last remark.
"Let's hope the Johnsons are home today. Otherwise, we'll have to walk five kilometers," McGonagall said.
"We can't go if they're not home?"
Dudley was dumbfounded. Entering through someone else's house—what kind of method was this?
Patiently, Professor McGonagall explained, "Of course not. If no one is home, the fireplace remains shut."
There was always Apparition, but the Dursleys were Muggles, and Harry and Dudley had no prior experience with it. Apparition was not a pleasant experience—especially the first time.
As for Portkeys, there were none set up nearby.
Dudley leaned in to read the parchment. The address belonged to one of London's high-end residential districts. Perhaps to wizards it seemed remote, but in truth, it was right beside one of the city's busiest commercial areas.
The housing prices there were far from cheap.
"St. John's Wood Estate—it's only a thirty-minute drive from here."
Dudley suggested, "Why don't we take our car? Slower, maybe, but at least we won't be walking."
Compared to detouring through another wizard's home, driving seemed far more convenient.
"Muggle transportation?" McGonagall hesitated. But compared to walking, driving was certainly easier.
Of course, wizards had their own travel methods, but the thought of the queasy, gut-churning sensation they brought made her decide that using a Muggle car might be best.
And so the five of them piled into the Dursleys' largest vehicle. Business had been good lately, and the family now owned three cars.
Vernon and Petunia were slightly disappointed—they had expected to see some marvelous magic. Instead, they were just driving.
Fortunately, traffic was light. In less than half an hour, they arrived smoothly at St. John's Wood.
Staring at the three-story red-roofed house, Dudley felt a strange sense of familiarity.
Wait—this place seemed awfully familiar.
"Mum, Professor McGonagall will be here soon, hurry up!"
From outside the door came a proud, commanding, and oddly familiar voice.
The door opened, and out stepped a young couple with a little girl.
The three froze upon seeing the visitors, then the man's face lit with joy. He rushed to Vernon and gave him a hearty hug. "Oh my goodness! Isn't this my dear brother Vernon?"
Vernon warmly patted him on the back. "Hey, Wendell, my good fellow! Long time no see."
Wendell Granger and Monica Granger were a well-known dental couple in London, both with exceptional skill.
Their connection with the Dursleys traced back to the time Vernon, after sneaking too much ice cream at night, suffered from pulpitis and spent two days in Wendell's clinic recovering.
During that treatment, they discovered a shared love of fishing. Over time, the hobby made them close friends. Though they always returned empty-handed, their bond only grew stronger. Sometimes, the friendship of anglers was just that peculiar.
When Dudley later went to Oxford Dragon Primary School as an exchange student, it was on Wendell Granger's advice that Vernon sent him.
And their daughter's name? Hermione Jane Granger.
Why "Jane" in the middle? Because before marrying Wendell, Mrs. Granger's maiden name had been Monica Jane.
(End of Chapter)
Hey readers! If you're eager to dive into advanced chapters, consider joining our Patreon. By joining, you'll get access to 20 chapters ahead and enjoy 8 new chapters per week. Plus, we have 8 more exciting fics with the same chapter release rate, giving you a total of 64 chapters per week! Join now and keep the adventure going!
Patreon: https://patreon.com/anish_44