Chapter 434: The Rebellion and Harry's Persuasion

At the table, no one but Dudley focused on the poor grapefruit in front of him.

Harry ate very slowly, thinking about the delicious pastries in his head.

A few seconds later, Dudley had finished his own quart of grapefruit.

He was looking at Harry with a look of hatred in his little piggy eyes.

Harry wasn't planning on provoking Dudley. He was ready to quickly eat his miserable quart of grapefruit and go back upstairs to enjoy some delicious cake, while he waited for Ivan's response.

But contrary to expectations, the track of events was quickly heading south!

As Hedwig entered Harry's room with Ivan's reply, there was an unprecedented storm below.

Uncle Vernon's roar nearly lifted the floor. Hedwig stared with her amber eyes and jumped uneasily.

For the past three years, she had become familiar with such roars and curses.

She knew that her young master, Harry, must have made another mistake, which upset the Dursleys!

In fact, Harry was puzzled, looking at them politely, not knowing what was going on.

Uncle Vernon got up and went to the door to have a letter delivered by the "ordinary" Muggle letter carrier.

Obviously, this letter was not ordinary and was very unusual.

First of all, the letter was full of things that Muggles could not understand.

Everything was covered with stamps except for one square inch on the front, on which Mrs. Weasley had written the Dursley's address.

Uncle Vernon shook the letter and growled at Harry. "Look at this!"

Harry picked up the purple notepaper and glanced at it.

It was a letter from Mrs. Weasley inviting him to watch the upcoming Quidditch World Cup.

And she hoped he could stay at the Burrow for the next two weeks until the end of the summer vacations.

It was unbelievable. It was exactly what Harry needed, not the same old summer life. He couldn't wait to leave the Dursleys right away.

He wanted to go back to the wizarding world and be with his friends, go back to watch the Quidditch World Cup finals, and on his way, go visit Sirius.

Harry had been very worried about his injuries all along.

In addition, Harry also wanted to personally ask Ivan about his adventures during the summer vacations.

There were so many things waiting for him that he couldn't stay any longer.

But Harry didn't lose his head. Under Uncle Vernon's glare, he tried to put on a boyish look.

He told himself that if he didn't do or say something stupid, he could go to the big event once in a century.

"So... can I go?" he asked carefully.

A slight spasm crossed Uncle Vernon's big purple face, and his mustache bristled.

Harry felt as if he could see what was going on behind the mustache.

In Vernon's mind, two of his most fundamental instincts came into conflict.

Allowing Harry to go watch the match would make him happy, something Uncle Vernon had fought against for thirteen years.

On the other hand, allowing Harry to go to the Weasley house for the rest of the summer vacations would get rid of him two weeks earlier than anyone could have expected, and Uncle Vernon hated having Harry in the house.

To give himself time to think, Uncle Vernon looked at Mrs. Weasley's letter again.

"Who is this woman?" he asked disgustedly, staring at Mrs. Weasley's signature on the letter.

"You've seen her!" said Harry. "She's my friend Ron's mother; she met him at the Hog...on the school train at the end of last term."

Harry had almost said "Hogwarts Express," and that was a sure way to get his uncle's hackles up.

No one ever mentioned the name of Harry's school out loud in the Dursley household.

The only exception was probably the summer vacations when Ivan visited two years ago.

Vernon's uncle's fat face crumpled into a ball, desperately remembering a very unpleasant event.

"Chubby woman?" he growled finally, "A bunch of red-headed children?"

Harry frowned. He thought it was a bit ridiculous for Uncle Vernon to call someone "chubby," when his own son had grown wider than he was tall.

"Quidditch?!" Uncle Vernon was examining the letter again, muttering under his breath. "Quidditch, what is this garbage?"

"It's a sport!" Harry felt a little more annoyed, "I play on broomsticks..."

"All right, all right!" said Uncle Vernon loudly.

Harry saw, with some satisfaction, that his uncle looked vaguely frightened.

Apparently, his nerves couldn't stand the sound of the word "broomsticks" in his living room.

He took refuge in examining the letter again.

"Send us your reply...in the normal way." He asked sharply, "What do you mean by 'the normal way'?!"

"Normal way for us!" said Harry, and before his uncle could stop him, he continued, "You know, send owls to deliver letters. That's what wizards normally do."

Uncle Vernon looked as indignant as if Harry had uttered a foul swear word.

Trembling with rage, he cast a nervous glance through the window, as if he expected to see some of the neighbors with their ears pressed against the glass.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to mention these strange things in my house?" He gritted his teeth and said, his face turning purple, "You're here, in the clothes Petunia and I gave you, but you don't know how to be grateful."

"Those clothes were given to me after Dudley was done with them," Harry said coldly. He'd had enough, and his urge to leave the Dursley family had resurfaced.

Looking down at his terribly oversized sportswear, his anger was mounting.

Harry was gasping for breath. He wasn't going to put up with this any longer.

Gone were the days when he was forced to accept any and all of the Dursleys' stupid rules.

He wasn't following the Dudley diet, and he wasn't going to let Uncle Vernon stop him from going to the Quidditch World Cup.

"My good friends, Ivan, Ron and Hermione, are going to the World Cup!" Harry took a deep breath and tried to speak in a calm voice.

"Ivan?" Vernon's face grew redder. It was like a ripe plum. "The Mason boy, I don't know how a good man like Mr. Mason can tolerate his son."

Mr. Mason's construction company was now Uncle Vernon's biggest business partner and he didn't want to offend him.

Although he had a negative attitude toward Ivan, that didn't stop him from contacting him.

It was good for him anyway. This was the only place where Harry could be useful.

He didn't know how many times he had talked to Mr. Mason about it and promised to let Harry take care of Ivan at school.

Uncle Vernon hesitated. Since the Mason boy was going to the stupid World Cup, Harry seemed to have to go too.

"Of course, if you won't let me go, can I go back to my room?!" Harry steadied his emotions and continued, "I'm going to write to Sirius, you know, he's my godfather."

"You're, you're writing to him, aren't you?" Uncle Vernon said, trying to keep his voice calm.

But Harry had seen the pupils of his small eyes contract with sudden fear.

Uncle Vernon remembered Sirius, the dangerous fugitive murderer mentioned on television.

Before the summer vacations, Sirius had written them a letter.

The letter warned them not to intimidate Harry, otherwise the consequences....

Seeing Vernon's expression, Harry knew he had succeeded, and that he could get out of here right away and back to the wizarding world.