"What's wrong?" Victor Wick asked, frowning.
In fact, he had sensed something was off for a while now.
First, the Dursleys seemed to be hiding Harry's existence. Second... looking around the room, he noticed the walls were covered with photos, but almost all of them were of that chubby boy, Dudley.
As for Harry, there wasn't a single photo of him.
The reason he knew the chubby boy wasn't Harry but Dudley was that Dudley lacked the lightning bolt scar on his forehead...
This was highly unusual. When a family is raising two children but only displays photos of one, it says a lot.
At first, Victor thought perhaps the Dursleys were trying to protect Harry by keeping his profile low around outsiders.
After all, Dumbledore had left a letter explaining everything when he delivered Harry to their doorstep.
Harry was left in their care because of that ancient magic of blood protection...
However, Victor now realized that their strange expressions upon seeing the Hogwarts acceptance letter meant things might not be as he had imagined.
"How... how did you get this letter?" Dursley's face turned beet-red; he was clearly struggling to suppress his anger.
In truth, if Victor weren't one of his bosses and hadn't brought in so many large orders, he would have kicked him out long ago.
"Because besides being your boss, I have another identity." Victor looked at Dursley quietly, the smile on his face completely gone. "I am also the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts. I came here to deliver Harry's acceptance letter... I received word earlier that Harry hadn't received any of the letters sent to him. I initially thought it was an owl accident, but now, I think I understand why."
The Dursleys were trembling, nearly speechless.
They had thought today was their lucky day, that they were about to strike it rich... but they never expected this young boss to be one of those freaks!
"Now, would you mind taking me to see Harry?" Victor said calmly.
Despite his calm tone, the Dursleys felt a crushing pressure weigh on their souls.
Indeed, Victor had used a bit of soul-targeting magic.
This minor spell had actually been taught to him by Voldemort himself, intended to help Victor intimidate the more savage Death Eaters and facilitate the "optimization and restructuring" of the organization...
Of course, these "optimizations" were merely to make it easier to feed intel to the Order of the Phoenix.
Honestly, without a few intimidating tricks like this, he never could have survived that wolf's den until the war's end.
"I... I will never agree to let him go to that school!"
To Victor's surprise, Petunia overcame her fear and voiced her direct opposition.
Victor shot her a surprised glance.
"Th-that's right! I've already decided to send him to Stonewall High! We won't pay to have some crackpot old fool teach him magic tricks!" Dursley added, summoning his courage.
It was clear the Dursleys knew something about Hogwarts; at the very least, they knew the Headmaster was an old man... a crackpot old man...
Victor could see that the Dursleys loathed the wizarding world to the extreme.
Otherwise, they wouldn't have dared to speak like that in this situation.
"Stonewall High?" Victor scoffed. "If I recall correctly, that's hardly a school; it's more of a correctional facility for troubled youth. You really are wonderful guardians to Harry, aren't you?"
The Dursleys were stunned. They hadn't expected this "freak" to be so knowledgeable about the outside world, even knowing the reputation of Stonewall High.
"Looking at you two... little Harry probably doesn't even know his own history, does he?" Victor asked, frowning.
Seeing their expressions, Victor had his answer even without a verbal response.
"Sigh..." Victor pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a bit helpless. "That old man Dumbledore... how could he not have set up any safeguards?"
He lowered his hand and spoke sternly, "You cannot stop Harry from going to that school. Don't bother arguing; hear me out first. Firstly, if a young wizard doesn't go to Hogwarts to learn how to use their power, they might lose control of their magic as they grow older and become an Obscurial... Well, think of it as losing control and becoming a ticking time bomb. Don't think I'm exaggerating; an Obscurial once lost control in America and nearly destroyed all of New York City..."
The Dursleys looked at Victor with a mix of shock and doubt.
"Secondly... don't forget my current role. Mr. Dursley, your superior actually has some reservations about your performance. I was the one who convinced him to keep you on. Furthermore, the reason I brought those orders today was to thank you for taking care of Harry all these years, not because of your outstanding ability. In my view, Mr. Booths is far more capable than you are..." Victor turned his gaze toward Petunia. "Mrs. Dursley, you wouldn't want your husband to lose his job, would you? And I can guarantee that if Mr. Dursley loses this job, no other company will ever hire him. I trust you don't doubt my connections."
The Dursleys could have maintained their skepticism about the first reason, but the second one... that was a death blow.
Losing his job meant being buried under bills. It meant they couldn't afford to send Dudley to a private school. It meant being the subject of gossip for friends, family, and neighbors...
That was worse than death to them.
Recalling Victor's other identity, the Dursleys' faces turned deathly pale.
"Of course, if you agree to let Harry attend Hogwarts, those orders will still be yours. And these partnerships will be ongoing; you must know how quickly large drills wear out."
Victor offered a carrot after the stick. The Dursleys had no reason to refuse.
So, however reluctantly, they led Victor to the door of Harry Potter's room...
Victor's face darkened as he looked at the narrow space under the stairs.
"You call this a room?!"
The Dursleys huddled together, trembling.
Victor took a deep breath, suppressed his rage, and opened the "door."
A thin, small boy sat on the bed. He looked up with those emerald-green eyes that Snape dreamed about.
The boy was scrawny, his hair a mess. He wore oversized, ill-fitting clothes, and a pair of broken glasses held together with tape perched on his nose. On his forehead was a striking lightning-shaped scar...
"Is this how you've been taking care of Lily's child? I thought I was looking at a house-elf!"