Hagrid’s face lit up the moment he spotted Charlen.
“You made it!
I baked a cake—thought Harry might like it,” Hagrid said hastily, holding up a box that already looked squashed.
“Alright, jump on.
Might be a bit of a tight squeeze, or would you rather ride a broomstick?” “Don’t worry, I have another way.” Charlen disliked riding broomsticks—not because they were uncomfortable, but because he thought they looked ridiculous.
He had always felt that only witches should ride brooms.
Before learning about *Harry Potter* in his past life, he had watched *Kiki’s Delivery Service*.
“Come on out, Pidgeot!” A sharp flash of brilliant crimson light burst forth, and a gigantic avian creature appeared before Hagrid.
Although its official species name was Pidgeot, Charlen simply called it Pidgeot all the same.
“Blimey, look at ‘im!
He’s gorgeous!” Hagrid was instantly captivated by Pidgeot’s majestic stance.
An average Pidgeot stood about one and a half meters tall, but Charlen’s specimen stood a full two meters tall, with a wingspan stretching nearly five meters.
Pidgeot’s sharp beak and razor-like talons fascinated Hagrid completely.
Fortunately, he hadn’t forgotten their objective.
“You’ve got to let me pet ‘im when we get a chance, alright?” Hagrid said eagerly.
Charlen raised an eyebrow, amused, and readily agreed.
“Let’s go.
Pidgeot, use Fly!” Pidgeot lowered its body so Charlen could climb aboard easily.
Then, its powerful wings flapped, kicking up a gale of wind!
Like a giant bird riding the tempest, it soared straight into the sky!
In an instant, Pidgeot carried Charlen high above the clouds.
An average Pidgeot could fly at speeds up to Mach 2—a true supersonic flyer!
Even the Firebolt—the finest broomstick that wouldn’t come out for a few years—only had a top speed of 150 miles per hour, or about 241 kilometers per hour.
Though the broom boasted rapid acceleration within ten seconds, even if its speed were doubled, Pidgeot’s flight speed was still roughly five times faster.
Carrying a passenger meant Pidgeot couldn’t fly at maximum speed, but leaving Hagrid’s ancient motorbike in the dust was child’s play.
Charlen hovered in the upper atmosphere, casually waiting for Hagrid to catch up.
“He flies fast, doesn’t he?” “He can go even faster,” Charlen chuckled.
He cast a Disillusionment Charm and a Wind-breaking Charm on both himself and Hagrid.
“Though I’m not afraid of the Ministry of Magic, it’s better to avoid causing trouble for Dumbledore.” Hagrid’s motorbike had originally belonged to Sirius Black and was an illegally modified Muggle object.
Being spotted by Muggles would mean endless paperwork.
“You’re right about that.
Though I didn’t expect your charm to work on me—I mean, since we were both expelled, I’m not much good with spells,” Hagrid stammered.
He spoke hastily, almost revealing that his natural magic resistance was unusually high due to his giant bloodline, before catching himself and changing the subject.
Charlen didn’t mind, but since Hagrid preferred to keep his lineage quiet, Charlen pretended not to notice.
Hagrid then grumbled, “Those bloody Muggles took Harry and moved again.” He had likely brought it up to switch topics, but now genuine anger flushed his face.
“The school owls are exhausted!
Every owl in the Owlery’s been flyin’ to that house, but they haven’t read a single letter!” Hagrid’s tangled beard twitched with rage.
By now, the pair had flown directly into a massive storm.
The evening sky, already dimming, turned pitch-black under the heavy thunderstorm clouds.
Yet Pidgeot flew with absolute stability, the howling gales failing to shake its body even an inch.
“Impervius,” Charlen said, casting a protective spell over himself and Pidgeot so the torrential rain wouldn’t touch them.
He cast one on Hagrid as well.
Because they had to slow down to match the motorbike’s pace, it was nearly midnight by the time they arrived.
Amid the night storm and crashing waves, a wooden shack perched on a isolated rock looked on the verge of collapsing.
Though it was summer, the temperature out on the sea was surprisingly freezing.
It seemed the Dursleys detested wizards to the absolute extreme; otherwise, they wouldn’t have dragged their entire family to suffer in a place like this just to keep Harry from attending Hogwarts.
*** Harry stared at the glowing face of Dudley’s wristwatch.
One more minute, and it would be his birthday.
Yet the owl he had been anticipating all day hadn’t appeared.
The weather was simply too dreadful.
Dudley was fast asleep.
Harry pondered whether he should deliberately wake him up to annoy him.
Even if it meant taking a beating afterward, he felt it might be worth it.
Before he could act, a thunderous boom suddenly echoed from the front door.
*BANG!* The entire shack shook violently.
Harry felt that unless a giant monster was knocking, a heavy boulder must have crashed against the wooden door.
Uncle Vernon grabbed his rifle in sheer panic.
But the firearm failed to lend him courage; instead, he scrambled backward into the room, trembling.
“Who’s out there?” he shouted, his walrus mustache quivering.
“I’m warning you—I’m armed!” Upon hearing his shout, the knocking immediately stopped.
Just as Harry assumed the person outside had given up and left, he caught the faint sound of two voices conversing.
“Let me handle it, Hagrid.
You’ll knock the door right off its hinges.” “Fair enough.
Though I could’ve used a bit of—well, you know.” Before Harry could listen any closer, the conversation outside ended.
A second later, he watched in shock as the lock on the heavy door clicked open on its own, as if unlocked by an invisible key.
*Creak—* A tall, handsome man stepped inside.
However, Harry’s initial impression of Charlen quickly shifted—because compared to the colossal figure stepping in behind him, Charlen wasn’t tall at all.
“Get out!
You’re trespassing!” Vernon bellowed instantly.
Hagrid ignored Vernon’s outrage completely.
Acting as if he were in his own home, he strode over to the sofa, shoved the sleeping Dudley aside, and sat down.
What amused Harry was that this mountain of a man casually referred to the heavy Dudley as a “great lump.” “Could do with a hot cup of tea, I could.
Or two.
Not an easy journey, this…” The giant turned his gaze toward Harry.
“So you’re Harry, eh?
Last time I saw you, you were just a baby.
You look a lot like your dad, but you’ve got your mum’s eyes.”