The Calm Before The Storm

"Oh, it's truly delightful. Our Dursleys haven't experienced any of those wretched things lately!" Vernon exclaimed in the living room on the first floor. He reached for a cup of black tea on the table, took a small sip, and let out a contented sigh.

"Harry, you're absolutely right. This has been the happiest time for our Dursleys. No irritating knocks, no mysterious letters appearing out of thin air, no peculiar individuals whispering strange and incomprehensible things. What's more...," Vernon continued, picking up a cookie from the table and waggling it in front of Harry.

In Harry's line of sight, Vernon's portly cheeks were pressed together, his pronounced chin accentuating his expression. His narrow eyes fixated on Harry as he held the cookie in his hand.

Harry instinctively shrunk back a bit and responded, "Uncle Vernon, what do you mean? I don't understand, and hasn't it been the same as before?"

Harry's voice conveyed a touch of confusion, sensing that there was something hidden in Vernon's words.

Vernon grunted and said, "I hope you really don't understand, for the sake of the peace we've finally enjoyed in the Dursley family. 'Undisturbed' for this period, I've even allowed you to join us for breakfast."

Vernon reached for another breakfast biscuit, extending it toward Harry while motioning for him to continue.

Gazing at the food before him, Harry's slender frame subconsciously took a step back. His stomach growled, reminding him of his hunger. He hadn't eaten breakfast for a while, since the time he took the "letter." Hesitating for a moment, Harry eventually said, "Thank you, Uncle Vernon."

With those words, he accepted the cookie from Vernon's hand, placed it in his mouth, and began to chew.

"Crunch~Crunch~"

The satisfying crunching sound and the aroma of the biscuit filled his senses. Harry had the sensation of "happiness" washing over him.

.....

While Vernon and Harry engaged in their own interactions, creating a kind of unspoken two-person world, anyone unaware of the facts would be left curious about the backstory of this unusual relationship. However, Dudley paid little attention to these details.

On top of his head, Totoro extended its small paws, tugged at Dudley's hair, and emitted a soft, "Squeak" sound, almost like a tiny neigh. This was the first time Totoro had made such a move since Dudley had encountered the chinchilla. Previously, Totoro had either lain still on his head or nestled in his pocket, requiring plenty of sleep during its infancy.

"Little one, you startled me there," Dudley remarked. As soon as he spoke, the tingling sensation at the base of his hair disappeared, replaced by a gentle touch on his palm.

The chinchilla, rather than crouching or curling up, stood upright, half-squinted, extended a front paw, and pointed ahead.

Dudley, even though he had prepared himself, was still startled. After all, seeing a scene that one might only expect to find in an anime now vividly recreated in reality could be quite shocking. It takes time for most people to adjust to the notion of their preconceived notions being overturned.

With a furry shake, the chinchilla climbed back into his pocket, seeking a cozy spot for a nap.

Dudley, recovering from the unusual encounter, asked, "What's outside the window?" He took a deep breath and, following the direction Totoro had pointed earlier, pulled back the curtains.

The sight that greeted him outside the glass window caused his pupils to contract.

Owls.

A multitude of owls.

White, yellow, gray, and gray... As far as his small yard extended, it was filled with owls. Dudley estimated that there were nearly a hundred of them on his lawn, in the yard's fence, and perched on the roof of the silver-white car parked in the driveway.

The peculiar presence of so many owls, creatures that typically only ventured out during the night, was deeply unsettling. What made it even stranger was that they appeared to be disordered yet purposeful, and they were congregated mainly around their own home, with few to none at neighboring houses.

Dudley felt a foreboding in his heart. Frequent anomalies were often a sign of something significant.

Before he could fully grasp the situation, he sensed his wrist being weighed down, and the chinchilla hiding in his pocket emerged. Its small head peered out the window, and its eyes, which had always been half-squinted, widened slightly.

Dudley followed its gaze and was stunned to witness a tall, broad figure disappearing at the end of the neighboring street, just outside the front door. It was a presence that seemed real, though Dudley couldn't quite fathom who it might be.

He began to ponder the identity of the figure when a rustling noise from behind startled him.

.....

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