Harry was still reeling from Hagrid’s mention of his parents.
He wondered if these two men might have known his mother and father, who he had been told died in a car crash.
Before he could ask, Uncle Vernon marched forward furiously, clutching his shotgun.
“Get out of here, both of you!
You’re trespassing!” “Shut up, Dursley, you great puddin’ head!” Hagrid bellowed.
Just as he was about to do something, Harry saw the other handsome man pull out a delicate, slender wooden stick.
He flicked it casually, like an orchestral conductor.
Was he planning to use *that* against a gun?
Harry’s eyes widened.
He had no doubt his uncle would shoot the man dead.
But before he could open his mouth to scream a warning, the metal barrel of the shotgun came alive.
No—it didn’t just look alive; it actually *was* alive!
The long barrel transformed into a writhing snake.
It twisted around, flicking its tongue as it stared right at Uncle Vernon, who was holding it.
The Dursleys and Dudley shrieked in terror and dropped the weapon onto the floor.
“My apologies.
Please forgive me for turning it into a snake—guns are simply far too dangerous,” Charlen said, looking genuinely apologetic.
Harry felt that this man had polite manners, but not many.
“Haha, Transfiguration!
You’re brilliant at it,” Hagrid chuckled.
Turning back to Harry, he said, “Anyhow, Harry—happy birthday to ya.
Got somethin’ fer ya here—might’ve sat on it a bit, but it’ll taste fine all the same.” Hagrid pulled out a cake he had baked himself.
It was completely squashed.
Even so, Harry was delighted.
Just minutes ago, he had believed no one even remembered his birthday.
Even if it was squashed— “*Reparo*,” Charlen said softly, stepping forward.
He flicked his wand, and the flattened cake instantly restored itself to how it had looked when Hagrid first finished making it.
Written on top in green icing was “HAPPEE BIRTHDAE HARRY.” Spelled wrong, as expected of Hagrid, but Harry didn’t mind at all.
He was far more awestruck by Charlen’s display of magic.
“Whoa!” “A simple Mending Charm,” Charlen smiled.
“Who are you?” Harry asked in amazement, looking back and forth between Charlen and Hagrid.
“Ah, blimey, I haven’t introduced meself properly!
Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts.
And this here is Charlen Gold, taking up a professorship at Hogwarts this year.
You should call him Professor Gold,” Hagrid said at once.
However, Hagrid quickly discovered that Harry knew nothing about wizards, Hogwarts, or even his own parents—believing they had died in a car crash.
This filled Hagrid with fury.
“You never told him?
Never showed him the letter Dumbledore left fer him?
I was there!
I saw him leave it with me own eyes!
Dursley!
You kept it from him all these years?” Looking at Hagrid, it seemed as though he was about to rush forward and plant a fist right in Dursley’s face.
Yet, strange as it was, Uncle Vernon stopped shrinking back.
He glared back at Hagrid without backing down, bellowing at him to shut up.
“Kept what from me?” Harry asked impetuously.
“Alright, Hagrid, explain things to Harry first.
I’ll handle them,” Charlen offered calmly, stepping in to soothe the giant.
He nudged Hagrid and Harry to the side, then walked toward the Dursley family.
“Stop right there!” “Don’t come any closer!” Vernon Dursley was so fat he practically had no neck, his face red and puffed up like a balloon.
It was clear they were terrified, treating Charlen as if he were a monster.
“Sir, perhaps we can have a civil conversation.” “We have nothing to talk about with your kind!” “I believe the opposite is true,” Charlen replied amiably.
Although he had beaten up purebloods, fought off dozens of Aurors, and stepped on the Minister of Magic in the very first chapter, he knew deep down that he was a good wizard.
He never liked using force to bully the weak, preferring to persuade people with reason.
“Harry Potter will be my student starting today.
I find it necessary to check on my student’s family situation,” Charlen said calmly.
“Harry will not be your student!
No one’s taking him to that crackpot school!” “I’m afraid that’s not up to you!” Hagrid’s voice roared from behind Charlen.
“Stop the son of Lily and James Potter from going to Hogwarts?
You’re mad!
His name’s been down on the Hogwarts register ever since he was born!
He’s going to the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world!
Seven years there and he’ll be a different boy!
He’ll be with kids like himself, under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts has ever had—Albus Dumbledore—” “I am NOT paying for some crackpot old fool to teach him magic tricks!” Uncle Vernon yelled.
Hagrid surged forward, stepping right into Dursley’s face, his massive frame towering over him.
“NEVER—INSULT—ALBUS—DUMBLEDORE—IN—FRONT—OF—ME!” Dumbledore was the person Hagrid admired most in the world; without Dumbledore, Hagrid’s life would have been miserable.
Coincidentally, Charlen had also received much care from Dumbledore.
However, Charlen wasn’t as hot-tempered as Hagrid.
The Dursleys’ attitude toward Harry was bad enough; if Hagrid lost his temper, they would only hate wizards even more.
“Easy, Hagrid.
Dumbledore wouldn’t want you laying a hand on them,” Charlen said, calming Hagrid down.
Looking back, he saw that the Dursleys were thoroughly terrified by Hagrid’s outburst.
“There’s really no need for us to part on such bad terms,” Charlen said to them.
“Even if you dislike wizards, that shouldn’t matter—Harry is the one going to school, isn’t he?” “Besides, have you ever considered…
what if your own child were a wizard too?” “What?
You mean Dudders?” Vernon and Petunia’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“Of course, he isn’t one himself,” Charlen clarified.
“But there’s no guarantee his children won’t be.
Wizard blood runs in Harry’s veins.
You’re his aunt—are you so sure you don’t carry any of it at all?” “Even so, I’ll never let anyone from my family go to that crackpot school—never!” Uncle Vernon roared without a second thought.
But he failed to notice that his wife had fallen silent.
“Petunia?” “Look, even if you dislike wizards, what good does it do to oppose us?” Charlen added.
“Why give up a comfortable house to suffer out here in the storm?” Uncle Vernon opened his mouth as if to say more, but Charlen’s expression was no longer so amiable.
No one likes being yelled at repeatedly.
If the Dursleys refused to listen to reason, he wouldn’t mind teaching them a lesson.
Meanwhile, Hagrid was already explaining the letter and the truth of what happened to Harry.