vncnus Chapter 170 Fernon's Apology
Chapter 170 Fernon's Apology
Chapter 170 Fernon's Apology
Relying on the little tricks he learned from Dumbledore, Lane's Legilimency, while not quite like the "telepathy" in the novels, was enough to read some of a person's thoughts when they were speaking or thinking.
Just as Petunia spoke of Harry's safety, Lane noticed that Vernon's thoughts were filled with confusion and doubt.
At the same time, he also showed support for his wife, and even for a moment, Vernon's attention to the large bundle of hundred-pound notes in his hand decreased.
Petunia's overflowing thoughts were even more interesting; she was genuinely concerned about Harry's safety! And she truly believed that Harry could only feel safe in this house.
In addition, there is strong skepticism about this seemingly small man who claimed to be a professor.
Ryan thought to himself, "This is the complexity and multifaceted nature of human beings."
If we're talking about sisterly affection and blood ties, Petunia's jealousy of Lily Evans was obvious, and her upbringing of Harry was only slightly better than that of a concentration camp, with food, water, and a guarantee of life.
But while it might be said that she only adopted Harry out of spite of him, and only because of Dumbledore's influence, her current concern and worry for Harry's safety are undeniable.
Harry, oblivious to human nature, only knew that he hadn't had a good life for over a decade. When he heard his Aunt Petunia objecting to him living at Hogwarts, he jumped to his feet and shouted, "My safety is none of your concern! It's precisely because I live in your house that I'm not safe!"
"You heartless little thing! You would have died long ago without us!" When Finon saw that the man in his house, "whose name he couldn't even mention," dared to yell at his wife, he immediately reached for his hunting rifle, only to find that the rifle had a mind of its own and quietly hid away.
"Sit down, Harry, be quiet," Ryan said.
Although reluctant, Harry sat there obediently, his hands clasped in front of him, gripping his knees, his entire demeanor filled with reluctance and displeasure.
"There's no need to worry about Harry's safety; Hogwarts will handle everything. And Ms. Petunia, you don't need to worry that I'm an imposter; you can simply send a letter to Mr. Dumbledore, can't you?"
Listening to Ryan's words, Finon looked at his wife, his pupils widening slightly. He never knew that his wife, who would faint whenever she came into contact with such strange and abnormal people, actually had the contact information of that seemingly unreliable crazy old man.
"I—" Penny cried out anxiously.
“Madam, there’s no need to deny it so quickly. Well, the reason you’re worried and suspicious of me is precisely because Mr. Dumbledore left a letter emphasizing that Harry can only receive his mother’s protection if he lives here.” But Lane interrupted her: “However, things have changed. Harry is much safer living at Hogwarts now than here.”
He then said to Vernon, "Of course, and Mr. Vernon, I reiterate, I have paid back ten times the child support I owed Harry over the years. He is not a heartless little thing; he is my student and my friend."
His name is Harry Potter, given to him by James Potter and Lily Evans.
"So, Vernon Dursley, regarding your question about insulting Harry, I need you to apologize to Harry."
Upon hearing the names James Potter and Lily Evans, Vernon and Penny convulsed and moved involuntarily, as if crawling with maggots.
When Vernon heard Lane demand that he apologize to Harry, his face turned a deep shade of liver: "Dream on! A bunch of freaks! If I had a shotgun—"
Ryan wasn't angry; he was adept at dealing with people who thought that possessing firearms meant possessing power and influence. "I heard Mr. Vernon is in the drilling rig industry?"
Vernon was caught off guard by the question: "Yes, yes."
"Although it's a drilling rig sales company, I imagine you've had some contact with geology on a regular basis and should have some understanding of prehistoric fossils, right?"
"I heard about it when I was working with the team that was procuring the chartered aircraft."
"Then, Mr. Vernon, can you tell me how the dinosaurs became extinct?"
Dudley, who had huddled on the sofa but hadn't quite succeeded, found himself asking a question in his only comfort zone: "My science teacher mentioned that extinctions were caused by rocks."
Everyone else present almost burst out laughing. Considering Dudley's robust physique and sharp mind, the fact that he could even listen to a little bit of the lesson was already a breakthrough for Dudley, and he deserved encouragement.
Vernon: "The most common explanation I hear from geological mining groups is—the meteorite impact theory."
"In 1980, Bald Eagle geologist Walter Alvart discovered an unusually high concentration of iridium in the K-T boundary strata, an element often found in meteorites from space."
Therefore, he proposed the meteorite impact theory.
After the explanation, Ryan changed the subject: "I think you haven't forgotten the day you two adopted Harry Potter. That day, there were many wizards in cloaks parading and gathering, and owls were flying everywhere in the sky."
"What do you want to say!" During their earlier discussion of natural sciences, facing the impeccably dressed Ryan, Vernon's emotions had unconsciously calmed down a bit. But as soon as Ryan brought up magic again, Vernon's blood pressure spiked once more. This dramatic rise and fall had happened several times since Ryan entered the room.
Vernon and Petunia might not have noticed, but Harry, who had spent a semester with Ryan, suddenly felt as if Ryan was deliberately tormenting them.
"Besides these, the news should have reported that meteor showers were sighted throughout Britain that day. Even in border counties like Kent and York, there were detailed reports of sightings—"
Ryan's words were like a demonic chant, tormenting Fernon's ears and contorting his facial features.
Ryan continued slowly, "A meteor shower—that wasn't observed by the observatory—how strange! How did it happen—it's really hard to guess, doesn't it, Mr. Vernon?"
Vernon's features slowly relaxed, his mouth slightly open, his brows furrowed, and he leaned back, sinking deeply into the sofa.
"Oh, by the way, I'd also like to ask Mr. Vernon, since we're rather oddballs and don't know much about advanced technology for ordinary people—which is more powerful, a meteor shower or a shotgun?"
Finon was sweating profusely, and his body slid down a bit. He struggled to support himself for a couple of moments before finally sitting firmly on the sofa.
He looked at Harry. This moment felt long, as if he was thinking about many things; but it was also very short, because only two or three seconds had passed within the time limit.
"Alright, kid, I take back what I said. You're not a freak, you're a—wizard. Your name is—Harry Potter—"