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Harry Potter: The Last Scion of Sprout - 295
🕑 Added 2025-10-26 13:29:08 +0000 UTCChapter 295: Visit, Revenge, and Attack
The wall clock chimed heavily. The last stroke of seven o'clock echoed through the spotlessly cleaned living room. Vernon Dursley paced near the dining table like an agitated rhinoceros. His thick neck flushed red as he muttered in his wheezing, hoarse voice, inspecting everything for this banquet.
"Wine's already poured into the decanter. Hopefully, it won't make our distinguished guests vomit. Lemon pie's warming in the oven, ready to serve anytime. Good, good, that just leaves you all."
Vernon first looked at his precious Dudley. "Dudley, know what to say?"
Dudley wore a practiced smile. "I'll take that gentleman's coat, greet him, and Mr. Sprout properly. I'll tell them I've long admired their achievements."
Only then did Vernon nod with satisfaction, then glared fiercely at Harry. Harry smoothly replied before his uncle could speak. "Won't say anything inappropriate, won't do anything inappropriate, maintain proper etiquette. I know."
Just as Vernon opened his mouth, Aunt Petunia's voice rose sharply. "The doorbell! Vernon, the doorbell!" She frantically smoothed her already impeccable hair.
Uncle Vernon fell silent abruptly. He took a deep breath as if trying to squeeze into that tight striped suit and arranged his face into a pleasant smile. He opened the door.
Harry's eyes showed anticipation. Since returning from Hogwarts, he'd completely lost contact with the magical world. He'd even thought everyone had forgotten him. Though he now knew Dobby had intercepted his letters, he still desperately wanted to see a familiar friend, confirming that his year at Hogwarts wasn't just a fleeting dream.
But what he saw disappointed him. An unfamiliar figure stood there, wearing a deep purple suit and a gentleman's hat. A head of carefully styled golden wavy hair, gold-rimmed glasses. His face wore a deliberately practiced smile.
"Everyone, hello. Learning I'd be attending such a special gathering tonight, I was absolutely delighted. Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Sir Gilderoy Lockhart, Victoria Third-Class Medal holder, Anti-War Alliance Honorary Member." He paused slightly, his smile growing more brilliant. "Incidentally, I've won Time Magazine's Most Charming Smile Award five times."
The air went still. Harry felt a cold current rush from his soles to his scalp. Goosebumps erupted all over. His toes seemed capable of digging a three-bedroom apartment into the floor.
But the next moment, enthusiastic applause erupted. The Dursleys clapped forcefully. Harry initially thought this was mere politeness, but he soon discovered they genuinely showed adoring faces.
Aunt Petunia's pale, harsh face instantly exploded with unprecedented color, spreading to her ears. She instinctively covered her mouth, eyes practically glowing as she looked at Lockhart.
Uncle Vernon was so excited that the fat on his face trembled. "Sir Lockhart, my goodness! What a remarkable honor to have you in our home! Our family has always wanted to befriend dignified figures like yourself."
Vernon spoke tremulously. Behind Lockhart, Ciel's figure also appeared, his face showing a peculiar expression. Originally, he'd worried whether Lockhart would adapt to such occasions, worried he might expose himself. But now his worry seemed completely unnecessary. In such settings, Lockhart was absolutely in his element.
Uncle Vernon now spotted Ciel and hurriedly welcomed him inside. "Mr. Sprout, you look even more radiant than before."
Ciel showed a slight smile, casually responding to Vernon's flattering praise. Harry's entire body trembled slightly, partly from finally seeing Ciel and feeling relieved. He truly had attended Hogwarts for a year rather than imagining it while mad. On the other hand, Uncle Vernon's fawning over Ciel was truly somewhat comical.
Uncle Vernon introduced the Dursley family members. When he mentioned Dudley, he spoke for two or three minutes, clearly hoping these two distinguished guests would appreciate his precious Dudders.
Finally, his gaze fell on Harry. "This is my family's distant relative's child, Harry Potter." Then Uncle Vernon stiffly changed the subject. "Well, it's getting late. You gentlemen came from afar; I'm sure you're starved. Shall we eat?"
But both Ciel and Lockhart waved their hands, appearing very interested in the Dursley home. "No rush. We're not particularly hungry yet. Rather than eating immediately, could we tour first?"
Ciel said this. Lockhart nodded while his eyes frequently drifted toward Harry. I've increasingly confirmed during this time that the mysterious wizard controlling my secrets, or rather the organization behind him, went to such elaborate lengths to blackmail me precisely to approach Harry Potter the Savior, gaining his trust and favor. As for why they selected me? Need that be said? I'm Gilderoy Lockhart! Who in the magical world doesn't love me? Having me approach Harry Potter shows this organization has quite good judgment. No wonder they're so powerful.
Regarding Ciel's proposal to tour the house, Vernon immediately agreed. Lockhart's mind raced as he considered how he could contact Harry Potter, thus completing the organization's assigned task and retrieving those photos.
The Dursleys crowded around Ciel and Lockhart, touring the house. They finished the living room and kitchen and prepared to go upstairs. Ciel's footsteps stopped at the cupboard beneath the staircase.
With curiosity, he examined it, extending his finger to lightly tap that thin, peeling paint door panel. Inside, hollow echoes were emitted.
Ciel suddenly asked, "Oh? This space under the stairs seems like it could house someone?"
The Dursleys' faces instantly turned deathly pale. Vernon's forehead immediately broke out in fine sweat. Petunia gasped, covering her mouth, eyes wide with terror. "How could this be where we house people? This is where we store miscellaneous items."
Vernon trembled as he spoke. Ciel seemed not to notice their reaction, absently stroking the door panel edges, with a tone that carried a reflective quality. "No, no, no, Mr. Dursley. You're decent people; naturally, you wouldn't do such things. But to my knowledge, storage rooms converted from such staircases or cupboards sometimes house people. Especially when houses are small, there are many children, or when families have an unwelcome distant relative's child. This place comes in quite handy."
Vernon's legs nearly gave out, his face deathly pale. He looked at Harry with disbelieving eyes as if questioning what tricks he'd pulled. Harry's eyes flickered with an unusual light. He never imagined Ciel deliberately came to the Dursley home, attended this foolish banquet, possibly to bring this up and give him vindication.
Harry's heart surged with warmth. Ciel seemed to narrate a distant story.
"Once there was a boy. Born into a prominent family, he should've lived comfortably. Unfortunately, a sudden attack left him stranded with distant relatives." The stairwell fell silent, only Ciel's voice echoing.
The Dursley trio's faces turned from white to green as they held their breath. "The distant relatives took him in," Ciel continued, tone flat as reading a newspaper. "But they resented this sudden burden. That boy lived in such a stairwell. During the day, he did heavy housework like a servant. At night, he curled up in this cold, hard, musty, narrow space. Oh, right, he also had a cousin whose greatest daily joy was bullying him."
Ciel shook his head, revealing a smile. "Ah, seeing this compartment, I unconsciously recalled the past. Fortunately, Mr. Dursley, your family isn't like that. I see you've cared for this Harry Potter very well."
Vernon's throat emitted a strange gurgling sound. Sweat the size of beans rolled down his temples. He nodded repeatedly. "Right, right. We've cared for him very well."
But then Vernon's lips trembled as he couldn't help asking. "That boy, what happened to him later?"
Hearing this, Ciel grinned. "Later? Well, that boy was finally found and returned to where he belonged. He also discovered that the power, influence, and wealth he possessed were beyond that of the relative family's wildest dreams. Guess what he did the first day after returning?"
Without waiting for the Dursleys to answer, Ciel continued. "He warmly invited that whole family. Bright sunshine, cool sea breeze, vast ocean surface, plus a group of starving sharks, perfect for practicing freestyle swimming. Though for his distant cousin, considering they grew up together, he still gave him a choice. Practice freestyle or hold a dagger fighting an African lion. The cousin chose the latter."
The Dursley household fell deathly silent. This family of three was like frozen statues. Even breathing seemed to stop. Vernon felt nearly faint from his own racing heartbeat. The young Mr. Sprout, whom he'd treated as a godsend, suddenly seemed like a ferocious beast.
Meanwhile, Harry, in his view, even became handsome. Though Harry's also a freak, at least since returning, this kid hasn't harmed us. Comparatively, he seems pretty good.
Ciel suddenly burst into loud laughter. "I'm joking! You didn't actually believe such an absurd story? Well, I admit that the boy sleeping in the stairwell cupboard was me. I also truly obtained power and influence that those distant relatives couldn't imagine. But as for revenge? That's too extreme."
He glanced at Harry, tone becoming gentler. "In fact, though I received some poor treatment, I can understand. Raising an extra child undoubtedly means trouble for an ordinary family. Moreover, this child represented huge risk. Being able to raise him this long, the money, time, and energy spent were considerable."
He smiled. "So even though we're no longer from the same world, I'd still secretly help them out, solve small troubles, exchange Christmas cards annually, as if those past events never happened. But that's all. Not being from the same world, too much contact is actually harmful."
Hearing this, the oppressive air finally loosened. The Dursleys felt relieved. Ciel extended his hand, pulling up Dudley, who'd collapsed when hearing "holding a dagger fighting a lion." Dudley's massive body seemed light as paper in Ciel's hands.
Then Ciel made a soft sound of surprise, voice carrying astonishment. He squeezed Dudley's arm again, seemingly confirming something. The Dursleys' just-lowered hearts immediately rose again. Dudley also trembled. But then they heard an almost unbelievable assessment.
"A genius," Ciel murmured. He never imagined that this Dursley home visit, besides coming for Dobby and repaying Harry a favor, would have such an unexpected discovery. Dudley from the original story, spoiled by the Dursleys, is actually truly a genius?
For Ciel, who practiced White Eagle Swordsmanship, his understanding of human skeletal structure and muscles was quite deep. Dudley's physical condition, aside from currently being overweight, showed truly exceptional potential. If he had been placed a thousand years ago, he might've been selected by the Religious Inquisition, recruited as a knight trainee. Now, if he develops a talent for fighting or boxing and practices properly, he might achieve considerable success.
In the original story, Dudley seemed to have won a boxing championship in elementary school and was quite interested in boxing. Fate truly works in mysterious ways. Considering Vernon Dursley would later help him excavate mineral resources, plus that "story" had scared them plenty, Ciel spoke.
"Dudley's bones are solid, his frame sufficient. He has exceptional boxing talent. He just needs professional training. Of course, first he must lose weight."
These words were like a bolt of lightning cutting through their fear. Dudley's small eyes, inherited from Vernon, immediately lit up with unprecedented brightness. Vernon and Petunia were stunned. Though they always called Dudley "little Dudders," they never imagined he possessed such talent.
If anyone else said this, they might scoff. But with someone of Ciel's status giving this assessment, plus the deterrent effect of Ciel's earlier "story," they now hung on his every word. Overwhelming joy washed over them. Their precious Dudders might become a boxing champion?
Instantly, the Dursley family seemed to forget earlier events. Vernon began incoherently expressing gratitude to Lockhart and Ciel. Petunia hurriedly invited them to sit and enjoy dinner.
Harry's mind continuously recalled Ciel's meaningful words. The Dursleys had raised him these years; they truly hadn't treated him well. But similarly, he also truly placed a considerable burden on them. Especially after entering Hogwarts, facing Voldemort at first year's end, Harry increasingly realized what dangers his arrival brought. The Dursleys might be torn apart because of him.
From this perspective, them hating him was also reasonable. With such thoughts appearing, some resentment buried in his heart seemed to melt considerably. His mood became complex while also lightening slightly.
Looking at the wine glass before him, just as Harry hesitated whether to raise his glass saying something, his eyes widened like saucers. He emitted an almost moaning sound. "No! Dobby!"
But nobody noticed Harry's movement. On the dining table, the huge lemon pie, carefully baked by Aunt Petunia and decorated with lemon slices and snow-white sugar frosting, floated up from the silver tray without warning. Then its speed suddenly accelerated, flying straight toward Ciel's head, seemingly about to cover him head-to-toe in sticky cream!
The air at this moment seemed to completely solidify.
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