Richard slicked his hair back with gel, straightened his jacket, and headed for the living room. As he descended the staircase, he cast a glance at the guests.
Scott looked much as usual in his gray suit, which this time had been pressed. The top button of his shirt was undone, however, and he wasn't wearing a tie.
Harry had transformed dramatically. He was wearing well-fitted blue jeans, brand-new white sneakers with green soles and neon-green laces. Over a white shirt, he sported a dark blue cardigan. Instead of his old round glasses, Harry now had rectangular frames with gleaming chrome rims. The boy's hair remained in its usual chaotic disarray.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen," Richard greeted them with a slight bow. "I hope you arrived without incident."
"Hey there, kid," Scott said simply, giving a casual wave of his right hand.
"Hi, Richie," Harry added with a shy smile.
Young Grosvenor sat down on the couch beside the younger Potter. Cups of tea and small dishes filled with sweets were already arranged on the coffee table. Harry eagerly devoured a cream pastry.
From the opposite couch, the detective asked, "Richie, you said you had an important assignment."
"Yes, Mr. Potter. Tell me—can you gain access to the wizarding world and find something out for me?"
Harry nearly choked on his pastry and stared at Richard in astonishment before shifting his gaze to his newly found uncle.
Detective Potter frowned, a deep crease forming across his brow.
"I can, if it's truly necessary," he replied. "Richie, what exactly are you interested in?"
"First, I need information on Mr. Arthur Weasley. Who he is, how he lives, his family, children, any mistresses. I know he works at the Ministry of Magic as the Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office."
"Mm-hmm, I see," the detective nodded. "And what's your interest in Mr. Weasley?"
"I want to offer him a side job and buy him wholesale."
"I see."
Harry, who had been silently listening to the conversation in growing disbelief, finally burst out, "Hey, wait a second! What wizards? What Ministry of Magic? Are you trying to prank me?"
Detective Potter let out a heavy sigh and turned to his nephew.
"Harry, I didn't know how to tell you. The truth is, our world is more diverse than most people realize. Among us live individuals with unusual abilities who call themselves mages, wizards, sorcerers, and witches. Your parents—and my parents, meaning your grandparents—were wizards too."
"And you?" Harry asked, looking at his uncle. "Are you a wizard too?"
"No, Harry," Scott answered sadly. "Sometimes wizards have a child without magical abilities. I didn't want to upset you, but…"
"What?!" Harry exclaimed. "Uncle Scott, you knew my parents?"
The detective darkened and turned pale. He didn't know how to answer the child. Richard decided to come to the man's rescue.
"Harry, not all wizards are good people. I shouldn't have been the one to tell you this, and Uncle Scott didn't want to upset you, but there's a disgusting tradition among some of them… If a child lacks magical ability, wizard parents may abandon them. Your grandparents left Uncle Scott at an orphanage and forgot he existed."
"That's not true, is it?" Harry asked hopefully, looking at his uncle.
Mr. Potter, grim-faced, silently shook his head and replied hoarsely, "Unfortunately, Harry, it's true."
"So Mom and Dad abandoned me too?" Harry asked in a hollow voice. "Because I'm not a wizard?"
"No, Harry," Scott said firmly. "Whether you're a wizard or not will become clear when you turn eleven. If you receive a letter from a school of witchcraft and wizardry, then you're magical. If you don't, then you're an ordinary person. There's no use guessing ahead of time. As for your parents—they were killed by a wizard criminal."
"Harry's a wizard. I'm telling you for sure," Richard said confidently.
"You're certain?" the detective asked the young Grosvenor.
"I am. Harry, strange things have happened to you, haven't they?"
"Well…" Harry thought for a moment. "I guess so. Once Aunt Petunia shaved my head completely. I was terrified to go to school looking like that—they would've laughed at me. But the next morning I woke up with my normal hair back. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were furious about it. And once I was running away from Dudley and his friends. They cornered me. I desperately wanted to be as far away from them as possible. The next thing I knew, I was on the roof of the school's annex. A fire truck had to get me down, and Uncle got angry again and didn't feed me for several days."
"Good heavens!" the elder Potter exclaimed in amazement. "Apparition at such a young age! Harry, I have no doubt now—you're a wizard."
"Um…" Harry hesitated. "Richie, what about you? Are you… are you a wizard?"
"Harry, I'm just as much a wizard as you are," Richard said with a disarming smile. "In a year and a half, you and I will be studying at the same school. Sounds cool, right?"
"I guess," Harry shrugged uncertainly. "No—I mean, I'd be happy to study with you. I just don't think I'm a wizard. I'm just an ordinary boy."
"Ordinary or not doesn't matter," Richard said. "What matters is protecting yourself and the people you care about!"
(End of Chapter)
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