Mrs. Dursley, having with difficulty seated the resisting Dudley, who looked like a fattened pig, at the table, with a happy smile retold the latest gossip to her husband.
Harry, a small, frail boy in Dudley's shirt, which looked like a sack on him, and baggy jeans rolled up at the bottom and belted with a long belt almost twice, ate his breakfast silently and quickly. He was trying to finish it all before Dudley threw another tantrum, during which he would sweep everything off the table or knock it over.
Harry was the same age as his cousin. He wore round glasses and a lightning-shaped scar adorned his forehead.
No one but Harry noticed how a procession of cars formed outside the window in front of the house.
At half past eight, the doorbell rang unexpectedly for the Dursleys.
Mr. Dursley straightened his tie and went to open the door. Throwing it open, he exclaimed:
- We're not buying anything! Go to hell!
Mr. Dursley was stunned to discover who he'd yelled at. It was a constable, and with him a huge crowd of people.
Harry quickly finished his breakfast and ran into the living room. A curious Dudley had arrived before him. Petunia, with her insatiable curiosity, had arrived at her husband's side even before the children.
"I'm sorry, sir," Mr. Dursley bleated. "I didn't realize that... What was the matter, er..."
Mr. Dursley looked around the crowd with a frightened look.
A small blond boy slipped past the adults, holding himself with the dignity of a lord.
"Lord Richard Rich," he introduced himself in a dry, powerful, and authoritative voice. Richie had learned this tone during negotiations with business partners to be taken seriously. "Heir to the Duke of Westminster and the Rich Group. Owner of Rich Junior. Godson of Prince Charles. And just so you understand the seriousness of it, the Queen herself asked me to call her Grandmother Lisa."
Vernon and Petunia Dursley were thunderstruck by these words. The child standing before them seemed no older than their son, yet they regarded him as a lord. This was reinforced by the presence of a constable and a prim butler at the boy's side.
Mr. and Mrs. Dursley were completely surprised by the visit of such an influential person to Little Whinging.
"Sir... You have no idea how pleased I am with your visit," Mr. Dursley fawned.
Harry looked at the young lord with curiosity. He thought:
"I wish I could! I wish Uncle Vernon would speak to me with such respect. And this boy is no older than me."
Richard said in a haughty tone:
"Mr. Dursley, I don't suppose you'll be so pleased when you learn the purpose of our visit.
- Yes, yes, sir... Lord? What have we done to deserve... Er... That the illustrious Lord visited our rather ordinary family?
Vernon was seriously excited.
"I decided to do some charity work," Richard said dryly. "Helping orphans. And I came to Harry Potter."
"Boy!" Vernon yelled at the top of his lungs. "Get here now!"
"To me?" Harry thought in amazement. "It can't be that a whole Lord has visited me!"
Harry squeezed past Dudley, who elbowed him in the side and moaned whinily,
- Mom, why did the lord come to this freak?
"Dudley, shut up!" Petunia hissed through clenched lips.
Mrs. Dursley paled and realized for the first time in her life that her little boy wasn't as good as she thought. After all, right now, in front of the Lord and the constable, her son could put her and her husband in jail. She grabbed Dudley firmly by the shoulder and covered his mouth with her other hand.
Dudley kicked his mother in the shin, only to receive a sudden slap on the back of the head. He was so shocked at being hit that he went into a stupor.
At that moment, Richard stared at the orphan boy in amazement. His gaze lingered on the lightning-bolt scar and the bicycle-shaped glasses.
"Ha! Just like in that holo!" Richie blurted out. "Wait... DAMN IT!!!"