"Hello!"
Denton extended his hand with a polite smile. "I'm Denton Harland, editor-in-chief of the Maple Herald. This is my son Richie. We're here to visit Harry Potter. Are you his father?"
Mr. Granger stepped up beside him. "And I'm Wendell Granger, dentist. Hermione's father. Here's my card. We're all together."
Vernon's mustache twitched. His whole expression shifted from suspicious to oily in half a second.
A newspaper editor and a dentist? Both upper-middle-class. Exactly the kind of people Vernon liked to rub shoulders with.
He straightened his shirt, shook Denton's hand with his left, and took Wendell's card with his right.
"Well, hello! I'm Vernon Dursley." He flashed what he clearly thought was a charming smile and looked at the kids. "You must be Dudley's classmates. He's inside right now, studying… er, watching educational television."
Vernon couldn't imagine Harry having friends who looked this normal. In his mind, anyone connected to that boy had to be as freakish as he was, so he completely ignored the second half of Denton's sentence and assumed they were here for his precious Dudley.
He spun toward the living room and bellowed, "Dudley, my boy! Put down your book—your friends are here!"
Then he turned to the kitchen. "Petunia, darling! Tea for our guests!"
Finally he shot Harry a venomous glare and hissed under his breath, "You—get upstairs and clean that pigsty you call a room. Now!"
With everything neatly arranged, Vernon turned back to the adults, all smiles again. "Sorry about that. Shall we step inside?"
Denton quietly pulled his hand free from Vernon's sweaty grip and glanced at Richie.
Richie watched Harry's excited face and gave his dad a small nod. "This is the right place. He's Harry Potter."
Honestly, Richie had zero interest in getting involved with Harry. The kid was the main character, and Richie preferred to stay out of trouble. He had his own plans.
But no matter what he did, some invisible hand kept shoving him straight toward Harry Potter.
And the hand's favorite tool was always Hermione.
First-year, Platform Nine and Three-Quarters: Richie's Lumos charm drew Ron and Harry over. Hermione fixed Harry's glasses. First meeting.
Halloween, girls' bathroom: Richie passed the fourth floor, heard the troll attack, and stepped in to help. The student he saved? Hermione. Harry and Ron showed up right after. They took the troll down together.
That single event put Richie firmly in Harry's "trusted ally" column.
Second term: Richie casually helped the trio uncover clues about the Sorcerer's Stone. Again because of Hermione, he ended up at Hagrid's hut and got blackmailed by Draco over the dragon.
Even after that mess was cleaned up, the pattern kept repeating.
Why Harry? Why not some random student?
And then Mrs. Figg showed up out of nowhere, specifically asking Richie to visit Harry.
Now, while he was deep in his summer studies and had almost forgotten about it, Hermione appeared again—and their parents immediately decided the three of them should go see Harry Potter.
Richie's scalp prickled.
The more he thought about it, the more terrifying it became.
Three times was no coincidence.
Whatever invisible hand was pulling these strings, Richie had no idea what its goal was. All he could do was take it one step at a time and stay alert.
"Excuse me, sir," Hermione said, frowning. "We're not Dudley's classmates. We're here to see Harry Potter."
Vernon's eyes bulged. "You're here for… Harry Potter?"
He repeated the name like it tasted rotten.
Both kids nodded.
"You're… you're…"
The word "wizards" stuck in Vernon's throat. His legs went weak. He stared at the four visitors as if they were man-eating monsters.
His mind flashed back to the pig's tail that had sprouted on Dudley's backside. He instinctively clutched his own rear.
Denton shrugged, trying to sound reassuring. "Oh, you've misunderstood. None of us are wizards. We're all ordinary people."
"Ordinary… ordinary people…"
Vernon let out a long, shaky breath, deflating like a punctured balloon. He still tried to salvage his dignity.
"My apologies. I was rude. Please, come in."
He turned and staggered back into the house with a strange look on his face.
Denton and Wendell exchanged a glance. Denton tilted his head and walked in first.
Wendell hesitated. This Dursley guy gave him a terrible impression. He had no desire to chat with him. But seeing Denton go inside and the three kids already huddled together, he sighed and followed.