Min Kak Soe San - Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Part 1)

After breakfast at Number 4, Priory Drive, the usual arguments broke out. In Harry's room, Uncle Vernon Dursley's screech, like an owl, shattered the morning.

"This has happened three times this week, and if you can't keep your owl, you'll have to chase this beast away."

Harry tried to explain again.

"He's... bored. He used to go out and fly around the neighborhood. If I could let him go out at night..."

"I'm already crazy enough to do as you say. Hey, I know what will happen if I let this owl out..."

"Uncle Vernon shouted back, some fried eggs resting on his tangled mustache, and he and his wife, Petunia, looked at each other uneasily.

Harry tried to argue, but his words were drowned out by the long, loud, sour voice of the Weasleys' son, Dumbledore.

"I want more ham."

"There's a lot of ham in the pan... son, son."

Aunt Petunia turned her wide eyes to her big, handsome son.

"I should have fed my son well while I had the chance. I'm not happy to hear him talk about food at school." - "That doesn't make sense... Petunia. I never had a bad day when I was at school. Dudley should have eaten well too. Isn't that right, my dear..."

Dudley was so big that his hips were spilling over the edges of the kitchen chair. He turned to Harry and smiled. "Give me a frying pan..." Dudley demanded sternly. So...

Harry replied, making him feel uncomfortable.

"If you treat me like this, one day you will discover the power of magic spells."

The effect that simple word had on the rest of the family was incredible... Dudley gasped and fell out of his chair, causing the entire kitchen to shake.

Aunt Pecuria let out a shrill scream and covered her mouth with her hands. Uncle Bannon suddenly jumped up, his ears pricking up.

"I mean to speak to you with respect, I don't mean to be rude...

Harry said in a poetic tone. "What did I tell you? We don't use witchy words in our house..." Uncle Vernon shouted loudly, spittle falling onto the table,

"But... I..."

"You dare threaten Dudley..."

Uncle Vernon shouted angrily, banging his fist on the table. "I..."

"I'll warn you. I won't tolerate your witchcraft and witchcraft in this house."

Harry looked from his uncle's large purple face to his aunt's pale face. She was trying to pull Dudley closer.

"Okay, sir... okay..." Harry said softly.

Uncle Vernon sat down, breathing heavily like a panting rhinoceros, and watched Harry closely from the corner of his small, sharp eyes.

From the moment Harry returned home for the summer holidays, Uncle Vernon had treated him like a time bomb. Because Harry was no ordinary boy. He was no ordinary person. Harry Potter was a witch. A brand-new witch, a first-year student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. If the Caddy family were unhappy about him being taken in for the summer holidays, he wouldn't have minded.

He missed Hogwarts like he had been feeling sick to his stomach for years. He missed the castle with its secret passages and haunted houses, his lessons (without Professor Snape, who taught him about potions), the time he sent letters by owl, the meals he ate in the Great Hall, his bed in the Tower dormitory, his visits to the headmaster, Hagrid, who lived in a hut in the grounds by the Forest of Otters, and especially the most popular game in the wizarding world, Quidditch (six tall goalposts, four boules, fourteen players on broomsticks, and a referee).

All of Harry's spell books, his wand, robes, frying pan, and first-class 2000-pound flying broomstick were locked away in a bureau under the stairs by Uncle Vernon as soon as Harry got home.

What would it matter to the Dursleys if Harry had to quit his school's Quidditch team because he hadn't practiced all summer? What would it matter to the Dursleys if the time came when Harry had to go back to school without any homework?

The Dursleys were, as the witches called them, mere mortals (they had no magical blood in their veins). Their greatest concern was that having a witch in their family was a great and shameful sin.

Uncle Vernon locks Hades (Harry's magical owl) in her cage to prevent her from carrying letters from anyone in the wizarding world.

Harry didn't want to be different from the rest of the family. Uncle Vernon was strong, his neck was almost gone, and he had a large, prominent black moustache. Aunt Petunia had a horse-like face and a bony face, and Dudley was blond with pink skin and looked like a pig. Harry was the complete opposite, with a slim body, green eyes, and always messy black hair. He wore round glasses and had a long, lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.

The scar was what made Harry so incredibly popular as a wizard. Not only was it a reminder of Harry's own extraordinary past, but it was also the reason he was left on the steps of the Dursleys' home eleven years ago. At the age of one, Harry had somehow escaped a spell by the greatest wizard of all time, Godfather, a name that most wizards still fear. Although both of Harry's parents had died in the attack, Harry somehow escaped death with his lightning bolt scar. Why Voldemort's powers had been destroyed and Harry had not been able to kill him was a mystery that no one could understand.

Harry was raised by his late mother's sister and her husband. He had spent ten years with the Dursleys, and at that time he still didn't fully understand why strange things were happening to him (even if he didn't mean to). He still believed the Dursleys' story that he had been left with a scar on his forehead in the car crash that had killed his parents instantly.

To be precise, his full story only came out when he wrote to Harry from Hogwarts a year ago. Harry had won a place at Hogwarts, and he and his scar had become famous. However, at the end of the school year, he had returned to the Dursleys for the summer holidays and was treated like a stinking dog.

The Weasleys didn't even remember that today was Harry's twelfth birthday. Harry didn't have high hopes for it, but they ignored him completely, not giving him any presents or even a cake.