Professor, please pay the debt

Harry froze, brass binoculars in one hand and sneakers in the other.

He had completely forgotten to tell the Dursleys that Dumbledore might be coming.Feeling nervous and funny, he quickly climbed over the box and opened the bedroom door, just in time to hear a deep voice say, "Good evening. You must be Mr. Dursley. I'm sure Harry must have told you I'm coming to get him, aren't I?"

Harry rushed down the stairs two steps at a time, and stopped suddenly when he was a few steps away from the bottom. Long-term experience told him that he should try to keep a distance from his uncle at all times, and don't let his uncle's arm reach him. .

Standing at the door was a tall, thin man with silver-white hair and beard hanging down to his waist.

He wore half-moon spectacles on his hooked nose, and wore a black traveling cloak and peaked hat.

Vernon Dursley, with a beard almost as thick as Dumbledore's, but black, was wearing a purple-brown dressing gown and was staring blankly at the person coming, as if he couldn't believe his small eyes see everything.

"From the look of surprise and disbelief on your face, Harry didn't tell you that I was coming," said Dumbledore kindly and easily. "However, let us assume that you have warmly invited me into your home. Now Times are turbulent, and it's not wise to linger too long at the gate."

He stepped nimbly across the threshold and closed the door behind him.

"It's been a long time since I've been here." Dumbledore looked at Uncle Vernon from his hooked nose. "I must admit that your agapanthus blooms very well."

Vernon Dursley said nothing.But Harry was sure he'd catch up to talk soon—

The veins in his uncle's temples were throbbing to burst - but something about Dumbledore seemed to take his breath away for a moment.

Maybe it was the striking wizarding air that Dumbledore exuded, or maybe it was just that even Uncle Vernon sensed that it was difficult for him to swagger in front of this man.

"Ah, good evening, Harry..." Dumbledore looked at Harry from behind the lenses of his half-moon glasses, with a very satisfied expression on his face, "Great, great."

These words seemed to have awakened Uncle Vernon.It was obvious to him that he would never be able to agree with anyone who could look at Harry and say, "Great."

"I didn't mean to be rude—" he said, every syllable in his words.

"However, we still get accidental faux pas from time to time." Dumbledore took him seriously. "It's best not to say anything, my dear fellow. Ah, this must be Petunia."

The kitchen door opened, and there stood Harry's aunt, wearing rubber gloves and a dressing gown over a dressing gown, apparently in the process of wiping down the entire surface of the kitchen as usual before going to bed.Her long horse face was full of horror.

"Albus Dumbledore." Seeing that Vernon hadn't introduced him, Dumbledore said, "Of course, we communicated by letter."

Harry thought it was kind of funny to remind Petunia that Dumbledore had sent her a Howler letter in that way, but Aunt Petunia didn't dispute the idea. "This must be your son Dudley?"

Dudley poked his head out from the living room door now, his big head of yellow hair sticking out of the collar of his striped pajamas, as if it didn't grow on his body.

His mouth was opened wide in surprise and fear.Dumbledore waited a moment, as if to hear what the Dursleys had to say, and smiled at their continued silence.

"May we assume that you have invited me into your living room?"

Dudley stepped aside hastily as Dumbledore passed.Harry jumped down the last few stairs and followed Dumbledore into the drawing room, still clutching his binoculars and sneakers.

Dumbledore sat down in the armchair closest to the fireplace and surveyed the room with good-natured interest.He looked completely out of place with his surroundings.

"Shall we—shall we go, sir?" Harry asked anxiously.

"Go, of course, but there are a few things that need to be discussed first," said Dumbledore. "I think we'd better not talk about these things outside, so I will have to disturb your aunt and uncle for a while."

"What, you?"

Uncle Vernon came into the living room too, Petunia standing beside him, and Dudley hiding behind them both timidly.

"That's right..." Dumbledore said curtly, "That's right."

He drew his wand suddenly, so quickly that Harry didn't see it.With a flick of the wand, the sofa whizzed past, hitting the laps of the three Dursleys.All of a sudden, they couldn't stand still, and they all fell down.

On the sofa, rolled into a ball.With another flick of the wand, the sofa swished back to its original place.

"We can be more comfortable, too," said Dumbledore cheerfully.

He put the wand back in his pocket when Harry saw that his hand was dry and charred, as if the flesh had been burned dry.

"Sir—what's the matter—"

"I'll talk about it later, Harry..." said Dumbledore. "Sit down."

Harry sat down in the other armchair, trying not to look at the Dursleys, who seemed too frightened to speak.

"I thought you'd let me have something to drink..." Dumbledore said to Uncle Vernon. "It now appears that this expectation is ridiculously optimistic."

With a third flick of the wand, a dirty wine bottle and five glasses appeared in the air.

The bottle automatically turned sideways to fill each glass with honey-yellow liquid, and the glasses floated to each person in the room.

"Lady Rosmerta's finest oak-aged mead," said Dumbledore, raising his glass to Harry, who took a sip from his own glass.

He had never tasted anything like this before, but liked it very much.The Dursleys exchanged quick, panicked glances before trying to avoid their cups.

It's not easy, as the cup keeps bumping their heads lightly to remind them.Harry couldn't help but wonder if Dumbledore was playing a trick on purpose.

"Well, Harry..." Dumbledore said, turning to him, "Now we have a problem which I would like you to help us solve. By 'we' I mean the Order of the Phoenix.First, though, I want to tell you that Sirius' will was discovered a week ago, and he left you everything he had. "

Uncle Vernon on the sofa turned his head, but Harry didn't look at him, and couldn't think of what to say, so he just replied, "Oh, yes."

"It's basically quite simple..." Dumbledore continued, "you have a large sum of gold in your account at Gringotts, and you have inherited all of Sirius' personal belongings. There is something wrong with the inheritance part of it is—”

"His godfather dead?" Uncle Vernon asked loudly from the sofa.Dumbledore and Harry both turned to look at him.

The glass of mead was hitting Vernon's head relentlessly now, and he was trying desperately to drive it away. "He's dead? His godfather?"

"Yes," said Dumbledore.He didn't ask why Harry hadn't told the Dursleys about it.

"The problem now is..." he continued to Harry as if he hadn't been interrupted, "Sirius also left 12 Grimmauld Place to you."

"Leaving him a house?" said Uncle Vernon greedily, narrowing his small eyes, but no one paid any attention to him.

"You can keep it for headquarters," said Harry, "I don't care. You can use it, I don't really need it."

Harry never wanted to set foot in number 12, Grimmauld Place again, if he could.He felt he would never forget Sirius wandering alone in those dark musty rooms, imprisoned in a place he longed to leave day and night.

"That's very generous," said Dumbledore, "but we've vacated the house for the time being."

"why?"

"That's it..." Dumbledore ignored Uncle Vernon's muttering, and continued—

At this time, Uncle Vernon's head was knocked loudly by the glass of mead, "The tradition of the Black family stipulates that the house will be passed down from generation to generation, and it will be passed on to the next male surnamed Black. Sirius is the last heir in his family, Because his brother Regulus died before him, and neither of them had children.

While his will clearly states that he leaves the house to you, there may have been some spell or spell cast over the place to ensure that no one who wasn't a pureblood would occupy it. "

An image flashed through Harry's mind, the portrait of Sirius' mother screaming and cursing in the Great Hall of Twelve Grimmauld Place. "It must be so," he said.