The tail end of June slipped away quietly, and in the blink of an eye, it was July 1st. It was only then that the summer heat wave arrived, long overdue.
The temperature rose to just over thirty degrees. Although it wasn't exactly scorching heat, compared to before, it required dressing a bit more coolly.
"Have you considered wearing a skirt, Leah?"
As a friend acknowledged by Harley, Lynn had indeed become much closer to her after a few days of getting to know each other. In front of Lynn, who knew her inside and out, Harley could be a bit more open.
"I'm not used to it. It always feels drafty, like the wind is blowing in from underneath."
Harley answered subconsciously, but immediately covered her mouth.
"It was Aunt Petunia who insisted I try it, it wasn't me—"
"Aren't kilts worn by men? It's really no big deal. High heels and silk stockings were originally designed for men, too."
"Is... that so?" Harley, having learned this new trivia, looked suddenly enlightened. The resistance she felt toward skirts in her heart seemed to lessen a bit.
"That's why reading more books helps you learn a lot of things."
Lynn closed the magazine in his hands and stood up from the sofa.
"Breakfast is ready."
Aunt Petunia's voice came from the kitchen. Lynn had come to Harley's house as a guest today, and incidentally, to mooch a meal.
Petunia and Vernon had a reasonably good impression of Lynn. Although his clothes were plain, Lynn was clean and looked quite tidy. One glance was enough to tell he was an obedient, sensible child. Most importantly, Lynn had done Dudley a huge favor.
"Dudley! Breakfast!"
Aunt Petunia's lion-like roar bellowed toward the upstairs floor. After Harley arrived, Dudley's status in the family had plummeted to the bottom of the food chain. He would get a couple of slaps from his parents whenever they had the chance, simply because he always slacked off during his weight-loss exercises.
"Just a moment... I'm almost... just... finished running!"
Breathless, heavy panting drifted out from Dudley's bedroom. The door wasn't closed, so the sound was very clear.
Dudley, who had been given a strict ultimatum to lose weight, really didn't have that kind of willpower, but that wasn't a major problem.
As an upstanding young man who did things out of passion and loved helping others, Lynn was not stingy about using his powers to help those in need as much as possible.
After learning about Dudley's situation, Lynn, who happened to have a suitable gadget on hand, took out a small object that looked like a toy rocket ship.
[Forced Exercise House~]
As long as the switch was pressed, the house where this device was installed would turn into a super gym that forced people to exercise. The floor would become a treadmill, the bed a trampoline, and there were even training programs for arm wrestling, weightlifting, horizontal bars, vaulting, obstacle courses, and so on.
However, the gadget in Lynn's hand was still a second-hand item. Its effective range wasn't large; it wasn't enough to cover the entire Dursley residence, but covering Dudley's room was more than sufficient.
But precisely because it was second-hand, once activated, it would run continuously for at least an hour and a half before shutting down. Even if one wanted to stop it manually, they couldn't; they had to wait for the timer to run out.
Dudley's hard times had arrived. Morning, noon, and night—three sessions a day. Combined with a controlled diet, the guy visibly lost a layer of fat. He evolved from a purely fat, pen-raised domestic pig to a sturdy, free-range pig that roamed the mountains. The "meat quality" had improved by a whole tier, which made the Dursleys quite satisfied.
Perhaps because of Harley, the Dursleys, who were originally abnormally terrified of these supernatural powers, had developed a certain capacity for acceptance.
Although Lynn emphasized repeatedly that this wasn't magic but future technology, they just smiled and didn't believe it at all.
Future technology could have such magical effects? Did he think they hadn't seen sci-fi movies?
But regardless, the Forced Exercise House was incredibly effective. After seeing their son's transformation, their attitude toward Lynn was quite good.
About ten minutes later, a sweaty Dudley practically rolled and crawled down the stairs. He was soaked through with hot sweat; his clothes were wet enough to wring out two pounds of water.
"Go take a shower, you stink!"
Yelled at by his own father, Dudley stuck out his tongue and headed for the bathroom on the first floor. The second floor originally had an ensuite bathroom too, but now, it was basically exclusively for Harley. If Dudley wanted to shower, he had to come downstairs.
"Yes..."
Dudley, having no energy left to speak, dragged his lead-filled legs into the bathroom. Before long, he was squealing from the cold water. Two minutes later, the battle was over. Freezing and shivering, a refreshed Dudley wiped his short hair with a towel, but just as he reached the living room, the sound of mail being delivered rang out from the door.
"Get the mail, Dudley," Uncle Vernon said from behind his newspaper, not even lifting his head.
"Shall I go?" Harley had already finished her portion of breakfast and was cleaning up her bowl and chopsticks to stand up.
"Let Dudley go; he lacks exercise right now."
Dudley gave his biological father a resentful look and sighed with a sense of despair. "Forget it, I'll get it."
A moment later, Dudley suddenly bounced back in. He was clutching four envelopes in his hand and shouted somewhat excitedly toward the living room, "There's a letter for Har... Leah! And—"
"From Hogwarts?" Aunt Petunia stood up abruptly, interrupting Dudley. She stepped forward and snatched the letters from his hand.
"One for Marge, one bill..." Aunt Petunia tossed the other three letters onto the table casually, staring excitedly at the third letter, and read the words on it aloud.
Surrey
Little Whinging
4 Privet Drive
To ■·Potter■■
The line that should have written Harry's name had been crossed out multiple times, eventually turning into several black blocky blobs. Presumably, the Hogwarts magical mailing system was crashing a bit at this moment, not knowing how to address her correctly, so it could only write a surname.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Potter:
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. On the day of signing for this letter, Hogwarts will dispatch a professor to your home to conduct introductory guidance for you.
Deputy Headmistress (Female)
Minerva McGonagall
"Is there actually one for me, too?"
While Aunt Petunia was reading the letter, Lynn noticed the fourth letter on the table, which had his name written on it.
"Shouldn't you have one?" Harley looked at Lynn with some confusion. "You already know how to use magic, don't you?"
"If I told you that what I possess isn't magic, but superpowers..." Lynn spread his hands; he wasn't speaking a single word of a lie.
"Do you think I'd believe that?" Harley rolled her eyes at Lynn and reached out to knock him on the head. "I'm not an idiot."
"A professor from Hogwarts..." A dusty memory unlocked in Petunia's mind. When Lily received her letter, a Hogwarts professor had also come. Little wizards born to Muggle families needed a professor to convince their parents that it was all real; it was a mandatory procedure.
And Harley's current situation had clearly been noticed by Hogwarts. However, faced with this "BUG" of a situation, they were likely a bit bewildered upon encountering it for the first time.
"When are they coming?"
Aunt Petunia glanced at the wall clock in the living room; the time pointed to 7:43.
Just then, the roaring of a motorcycle came from outside. The vehicle screeched to a halt at the door, followed immediately by the sound of approaching footsteps.
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