Dura Lex Magica

"Fuck..." after listening to the end, Dudley did not hold back and expressed himself more strongly than before.

"I agree, son. And I won't even make you wash your mouth with soap", Vernon replied to this. "Boy, won't this Voldy-Schmoldy of yours come to us for you?"

Looking at his seriously worried uncle, Harry simply replied that, according to Dumbledore, there was some kind of blood protection on the house, and that was why he had to return here every year. So that no Voldemort mutt could find him.

"Then how do their owls fly to you? And what was it like in the first letter?" Petunia took the first note from Mafalda Hopkirk and read: "`Representatives of the Ministry will visit you soon to destroy your magic wand.' Can't anyone get in with them?"

Harry looked at his aunt blankly. Then he looked at his uncle. Then at Dudley. The latter, despite the seriousness of the situation, openly laughed.

"And which one of us is dumb, Potter? Dad, you said you were going to take a couple of weeks off, like this," He nodded his head at Harry. "Maybe you can take all four?"

"Uncle Vernon! You need to change your place of residence urgently! To hell with Dumbledore's blood protection! I will not forgive myself if you are also because of me...."

"What are you talking about, kid? These people of yours have police too! Why not demand protection from them? Yes, I'll go to the normal police!"

"Uncle, the Statute!"

"Fuck your Statute! Do you think I'm completely stupid or something? I'll tell them that sectarians are threatening us, and I'll describe it in as much detail as possible! Well, I don't believe that the Queen and the Prime Minister are unaware of your abnormalities! Surely they have some special powers for this! We just need to find them. And certainly, if not our sergeant, then the inspector of Surrey should be aware of your affairs! Otherwise, we would all have been dancing to the tune of your Schmold Voldes and other Dumbledores long ago!"

With a menacing flourish of his moustache, Uncle Vernon took out a reference book from the bedside table in the hallway and began leafing through it.

"Vernon, are you going to call the police at night?"

"What else can we do if these lunatics didn't even give us the opportunity to call their police?"

"The Aurora."

"what?"

"The police are called Aurors in the wizarding world, and their employees are called aurors," Harry explained.

"Even with marshmallows!" Vernon snapped, continuing to flip through the directory.

When he found the right number, he immediately picked up the phone.

"The police? Oh, it's you, Rudy! Is Ferguson still in his room? Already? All right, Constable, quiet watch for you!"

Vernon dialed a new number.

"Mike? It's the Dursleys. Yeah, same to you. Well, yes. Listen, there's a hundred-pound deal here. Yeah, yeah... Anyway, do you know anything about dementors? There are some strange things going on here. No? It's a pity, it's a pity... You do this, not to the service, but to friendship, pass it on to the authorities there, to your inspector. Yeah. Yes, tell him this: `Dementors were seen in Little Whinging on the evening of August second.' He'll understand. And if not, ask him to pass it on to the authorities. Tell them they're threatening civilians. Am I not a civilian or something? Well, Fergusson, will you come to my place for brandy? Okay, come on. And that, Mike, I'm not kidding. If you want, take a breathalyzer and come to me. Or let me drop by on my own. No? Well, thanks then! Good night, yeah!"

Vernon hung up the phone with satisfaction.

"That's it, basta, babies! Now we are waiting. Kid, if you don't care anymore, then don't hide your stick. How do you say your dementoids appear?"

After listening to Dudley's story once more, Vernon nodded his head and held up his index finger.

"Here! Got it, kid? As soon as it gets sad, we all gather in a bunch and eat chocolate. Son, do you have a lot more?"

"There'll be half a box," Dudley replied, thinking for a moment.

"Uncle Vernon," Harry began hesitantly, "why are you helping me?"

"No one can say that the Dursleys abandoned their kinsman in trouble!" He thundered.

"And why, well..." Harry hesitated again, "did you... earlier?"...

Vernon stared at the embarrassed young man and sighed.

"Tuney, show him."

"Maybe you shouldn't?"

"It is necessary, Tuni, it is necessary! Bring it!"

Aunt Petunia went up to the bedroom and returned about five minutes later.

"Dumbledore left this in the basket where you were dropped off." She said, handing Harry a piece of parchment.

The young wizard read the letter carefully. Then again. And more. The content has not changed.

"It can't be... I don't believe it!"

The letter fell out of his hand, and Harry put his head in his hands for the umpteenth time that evening. Dudley picked up the fallen piece of parchment and read it.

"F'u-it'!" He whistled. "Have we really been dancing to that Dumby's tune all this time?"(3) Pa?"

"It turns out that way!" Vernon spread his hands. "What's wrong? Have you forgotten about your tail already?"

"No, I just remembered today. Right in front of the fucking dementors...." The fat man shuddered. "Well, you damn it! But I really thought that you can't treat this normally, because he's not normal. This year is just..." Dudley waved his hand.

"Are you okay, kid?" Vernon asked Harry.

He raised his head.

"No. It's not okay. But I can handle it, I'm not normal!" Harry grinned.

"Come on, tell me what else interesting happened there. Or is it just this year?"

Harry laughed hysterically. There was not just liveliness in his eyes, but a kind of maniacal fire.

"Something happened every fucking year! Troll, baby dragon, Quirrelmort, basilisk, dementors, werewolf, animagus godfather, animagus traitor, time tra..." he broke off. "Anyway, shit happened. I'll be talking about it for two hours."

"We're not in a hurry, are we, Tuni? By the way, arrange another cup of tea!"

* * *

The night passed quietly, even though it was well past midnight. Vernon had already sorted out all of Harry's adventures, proving to him how two and two make four, that even for a school of lunatics, everything that happened to him was abnormal. At first, Harry wanted to send letters to Ron, Hermione, and Sirius, but Uncle Vernon talked him out of it. And that's right, since Sirius has already written to him, then he should be aware, and since Arthur has written, then Ron most likely knows. In the end, Harry still sent Hedwig to Hermione, briefly describing what had happened. The owl never came back.

Harry seemed to come alive, despite what had happened. Or maybe because of that. He spent two days rereading textbooks and even managed to write a couple of essays for the summer. On Friday evening, the fourth, a policeman with two diamonds on his shoulder straps showed up at their house. He introduced himself as Inspector Alan Craggs (4). And he didn't come alone. With him was a man in a cassock, at the sight of whom Vernon was tense, but when he saw the colorat, he relaxed. However, the robes of wizards are not visually very different from the cassocks of the clergy. The inspector introduced his companion as Ricardo's father.

"You can just say Richard. You're not Catholic, are you?"

The audience shook their heads.

"And a young man, as a wizard, shouldn't call me "father" at all,"" Ricardo grinned, boring Harry with piercing brown eyes. "Tell me what's going on with the dementors."

1) I remind you, this is not a physiologism, but a state of mind, therefore, through "a".

2) Show 'em they are messing with the wrong person!

3) Wordplay: dumb — English dumb.

4) Alan Craggs