I'm the King of Curry at Hogwarts

Chapter 75 Dursley

The Dursleys' house was quite large, befitting Vernon's status as a company director. In those days, the British middle class, before experiencing the economics of a certain "Iron Lady," still had some money. [For error-free chapter reading, search on Google.]

The neighbors' houses were very similar to the Dursleys' house, standing neatly in rows along one side of Privet Road.

Two heavy iron bars were mounted on the second-floor windows of the Dursleys' house, and Louis knew at a glance that Dobby had gotten himself into trouble.

Perhaps the timeline is a little different; today happens to be Harry's birthday...

Since Diana had lost her right glove somewhere, she decided to stay in the car to look for it and let Louis go knock on the door first.

Louis knocked politely on the door, and after a short while, the door opened, revealing a tall, burly man who was so fat he almost had no neck. He had thick, dark hair, a large, ruddy face, and a beard that rivaled that of his father.

It should be Harry's uncle, Vernon Dursley.

Mr. Dursley's small eyes darted around, then he looked down and saw Louis.

Could this be Dudley's classmate? He looks somewhat familiar... Mr. Dursley pondered to himself. The young boy in front of him, both in his clothes and his demeanor, was clearly someone they couldn't possibly associate with.

"Hello, is this the house of Vernon Dursley?" Louis bowed politely. "I'm sorry to bother you at this hour."

"Oh, oh, it's nothing, it's nothing." Mr. Dursley waved his plump hand. The boy's proper language and elegant demeanor made him feel very comfortable communicating with him.

"Are you looking for Dali, young man?" he asked.

"Um, excuse me, please allow me to introduce myself. I'm Harry Potter's classmate."

Just as Louis was about to introduce himself, Mr. Dursley's already flushed face turned purple when he heard that he was "Harry Potter's classmate."

He waved his two thick arms, looking furious.

Blinded by rage, he had completely forgotten the judgment he had just made about Louis.

"Ha... so you're that freak's classmate. Looks like you're one of those freaks who pulls off acrobatic tricks too, right?" Mr. Dursley's words were extremely sarcastic. His beady eyes narrowed, and he looked as angry as a hippopotamus that'd been bitten on the rear by a crocodile: "I will not allow any little freak to enter this house or have any interaction with that beast! Never!"

"Even if you send your freakish, crazy headmaster here in person, I won't let that little bastard step out of this room! Especially not you! I will never let you see him! Never!"

"You'd better get out of here right now, or I'll call the police!" Mr. Dursley said this threatening remark before slamming the door shut.

Inside the room, Aunt Penny asked, "What's wrong, Vernon? Who's outside?"

"It's that little bastard's freak classmate!" Mr. Dursley said breathlessly, like an enraged bull.

"Dad, I told you it would be a problem if he stayed home. You see, weirdos always attract each other," Dudley chimed in, adding fuel to the fire.

"That little bastard ruined my important order! How can Mrs. Mason's husband possibly continue to patronize my business after such an insult! It's all his fault! Damn it..." Mr. Dursley was still furious: "No matter what that freakish little boy says, he won't see that little bastard again! I said it!"

The knocking sounded again.

"Never mind him!" Mr. Dursley waved his hand dismissively and continued eating the grapefruit that Aunt Penny had cut for him.

"I'll go check," Aunt Penny said, worried. She knew that young wizards weren't allowed to cast spells outside, but what if the wizard took a risk?

She stood up, walked to the door, and opened it.

The person standing before her was not the "little freak" Mr. Dursley had just mentioned, but a tall, elegant woman.

She recognized the other person almost instantly—

How could I not recognize it? I see it on TV every day.

"Your Highness, what brings you here?" Aunt Penny stammered. This was such a shock. Who would have thought that such a high and mighty person would actually appear at their doorstep?

While England is indeed a constitutional monarchy, even without that status, imagine if Michael Jackson or Messi or Ronaldo suddenly appeared at your door one day—how would you react?

Moreover, these three are still a bit inferior to Princess Diana in terms of status... especially for the British.

"Hello, Ms. Dursley." Diana extended her hand. "Let me introduce myself. I am Diana Spencer. I'm sorry, my brother was impolite and angered your husband. I hope you won't take offense."

Aunt Penny was so excited that she trembled all over. She awkwardly wiped her hands on her apron in front of her, then grasped Diana's outstretched hand: "How could that be, Your Highness? It is our honor to have you come to our home."

Just then, Mr. Dursley came out of the kitchen, shouting, "Penny! Penny! What's going on? Did that little rascal pull off his tricks again? Damn it, they should expel him from that juggling school!"

As he was shouting, he looked up and saw Penny staring at him with an embarrassed and frightened expression. Then, looking to the side, he saw Diana's beautiful face.

He burped, almost choking on his own breath.

"Your Highness..." They really are family. As the saying goes, birds of a feather flock together. Even his stutter is the same as Penny's.

"This must be Mr. Dursley." Diana's smile remained gentle, but her words carried a hint of sharpness: "I hope the little freak you're talking about isn't my precious little brother."

"Ha...you've misunderstood...you've misunderstood..." Mr. Dursley wiped the cold sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. "Please come in, please come in. What I was talking about was my wife's good-for-nothing nephew..."

At that moment, Louis also appeared before Mr. Dursley.

“You seemed a little rushed, Mr. Dursley.” Louis gave a graceful bow. “I haven’t even finished introducing myself yet… I’m Louis Mountbatten, Harry’s classmate.”

Mr. Dursley's heart skipped a beat.

This name is known to everyone from Ireland to the Khitan... and the owner of this name passed it on to his most beloved grandson.

It must be that gentleman, right?

Mr. Dursley now truly hated himself for his quick tongue. If he could, he would wish to travel back in time and shoot himself dead.

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I can't see it on QReader, so I'll post it here.

Group: 766987240

(End of this chapter)

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