Harry Dursley Translated with ChatGPT

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Summary:
Harry Potter fanfiction written in 2022
And if after a few years the Dursleys had come to love Harry and treat him as their own son, while continuing to consider magic as a defect. How to reconcile his nature with the love of his adoptive parents? Very simple, just reject magic. But will the wizards let him do it?
Originally, I wanted it to be a succession of very short chapters based on the model of:Une adolescence à St Brutus
But quickly, I abandoned this idea and made a more classic fanfic. There are still a few very short chapters (especially in volume 1) thattestify tothis original ambition.
Quidditch match
And Angelina approaches the goals, but is intercepted by a Bludger, but passes to Katie Bell who shoots. And Gryffindor scores!!! The score is now 30 to 60 in favor of Gryffindor!
To avoid offending any of his friends who were respectively Slytherin and Gryffindor, Harry refrained from shouting with joy with the other Hufflepuffs. Harry was skeptical when he was told about Quidditch. This sport seemed incredible, dangerous, and the rules perfectly illogical to him. Despite his love of flying, for him, it would never beat soccer. But caught up in the excitement of the stadium, he now considered it the best sport in the world.
So how do you find Quidditch in the end? A Hufflepuff from his year asked him next to him.
That's great. Next year, I'm applying to join the team.
In your dreams. Next year, I'll probably be named captain, and there's no way I'm recruiting you. Intervened Cedric Diggory who was on the row above.
Are you serious? I'm the best in flying in my year.
Yes, I saw you having fun with your friends before our training sessions. You fly well, but. (...)
Cédric was interrupted by a shout from the commentator Lee Jordan, when a Bludger hit by Slytherin struck Fred Weasley. Once calm returned to the stadium, he continued:
But Quidditch is a sport far too dangerous for someone as unlucky as you. The team doesn't have enough money to pay for a week in the hospital after each match.
No, but what kind of stupid argument is that?
In any case, the only position where a second-year can compete with an older student is Seeker. And that's my position. There's no way you can do better than me. You'll have to wait a few years. Cedric explained boastfully, before running his hand through Harry's messy hair. After some thought, to be fair, he added:
Or convince Dumbledore to transfer you to the lions. They have a good team, but as long as their Seeker is so bad, they have no chance of winning.
Being in the same house as the Weasleys. Never.
You would also be in the same house as Lucas. And the next time a tile falls on you, it will be Percy and not me who will have to fix thePieces. You know, I've already filled out the papers for your transfer request. You just have to sign. Joked Cédric.
It's really nice to feel accepted in your home. Honestly, aaaahhhhhh!!!!
Harry had just jumped to the ground to avoid a Bludger that was heading towards him. Unfortunately, he couldn't completely get out of the way and his leg broke with a sinister crack at the same time as the bench where he had been sitting a few seconds earlier. Panic seized the stands, and everyone began to flee, pushing each other.
But Harry was too busy yelling and preparing to dodge the next charge of the Bludger, which had looped around and was heading towards him again. At the cost of great pain, he rolled to the side to get out of the Bludger's path. However, to his great horror, it corrected its trajectory and was rushing towards him again. This time, he couldn't avoid taking it right in the face. He thought his last hour had come when a red flash shot from the stands above him and blew the Bludger into a thousand pieces. Before fainting from the shock and pain that was no longer as well anesthetized by adrenaline, he saw Cedric put away his wand and say:
I swear on my life that you will never join a Quidditch team. In fact, from now on, you are not leaving your dormitory.
oOoOoOo
A few minutes later, an extremely painful flash of light forced him to regain consciousness. He groaned and tried to raise his hand to shield his eyes, but he realized with horror that he could no longer feel his arm. He turned and then felt an enormous pain in his leg, which was nothing compared to the horror that gripped him when he saw that his arm had become a sort of unusable gelatinous limb.
He shouted, panicked.
AH! My arm.
For any response, a new flash of light blinded him. He then understood that it was from a camera.
Colin, stop immediately with your damn photos or I'll make you swallow your damn camera before feeding you to the monster in the room.
Harry! Shouted his two friends Lucas and Jenny as they immediately rushed to his bedside.
How are you?
What happened to my arm? Harry immediately asked without answering their question.
The two exchanged a look that made Harry panic.
Tell me it's curable.
Yes, don't worry. As soon as she's done with the students who got wood splinters, Pomfrey said she's going to give you a potion to heal your arm and that by tomorrow you'll be as good as new. However, it might be painful.
Great. Pain, that's exactly what I was missing. What happened, another Bludger?
Not worse. Lockhart. Replied Jenny
What?
As soon as you fainted, the teachers arrived to restore calm and try to understand what was happening. Lockhart examined you and said he could heal your leg. Before anyone could stop him, he cast a spell that removed all the bones from your arm, Lucas explained calmly.
What? Harry repeated stupidly, a little louder.
Do you still think he's a genius? Jenny asked sarcastically.
Oh, it's okay. Even geniuses make mistakes from time to time.
No, but seriously, when will you admit that he's an idiot?
She said while picking from a pile of cakes, candies, and pumpkin juice she had brought him, when Madam Pomfrey suddenly burst in screaming:
This boy needs rest, he needs to regrow thirty-three bones! So, out! OUT!
Reluctantly, his friends left.
Now that we are alone, please take these potions. This one is for your leg, that one is for your bones, that one for the shock,...
And Harry found himself all alone, with no distraction other than the throbbing pain piercing his arm.
oOoOoOo
Hours later, Harry suddenly woke up in the dark and let out a small cry of pain. He now felt as if his arm was filled with splinters. For a moment, he thought that was what had woken him. But he let out a cry of horror upon realizing that someone was mopping his forehead in the darkness.
Leave me alone! Exclaimed Harry. Then suddenly, he recognized:
Dobby!
The elf's enormous eyes, as big as tennis balls, gazed at Harry in the darkness and a tear ran down his pointed nose.
Harry Potter stayed at school, he murmured, dismayed. Dobby warned Harry Potter though. Ah, sir, why didn't you listen to Dobby? Why didn't Harry Potter go back home?
Harry propped himself up on his pillows and pushed away the sponge that Dobby was passing over his forehead.
Harry Potter must return home! Dobby thought that his Bludger would be enough to...
Your Bludger? exclaimed Harry, feeling anger rising within him. What do you mean? Are you the one who tried to kill me with that Bludger?
Not to kill you, sir, certainly not to kill you! said Dobby, looking shocked. Dobby wants to save Harry Potter's life! Better for him to go home seriously injured than to stay here, sir! Dobby just wanted Harry Potter to be injured enough to be sent home!
Ah, well, is that all? said Harry furiously. You better get out of here before my bones have regrown, otherwise, I'll strangle you!
Dobby had a faint smile.
Dobby is used to death threats, sir. Dobby receives them five times a day in his master's house.
He blew his nose in a corner of the grimy pillowcase that served as his clothing. He looked so pitiful that Harry felt his anger leave him despite himself.
Why are you wearing that thing, Dobby? He asked, intrigued.
That, sir? said Dobby, pointing to the pillowcase. It's a distinctive sign of house-elves. They are held in slavery, sir, and Dobby can only be freed if his masters offer him clothes. So the family is very careful not to give Dobby anything, not even a sock, sir, because then he would be free to leave the house forever.
And I suppose you don't want to tell me why you're so keen on sending me back home in little pieces?
Ah, if only Harry Potter knew! Dobby moaned, shedding tears again on his tattered pillowcase. If he knew what he means to us, the humble, the slaves, the dregs of the magical world! Dobby remembers how it was when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was at the height of his power! We, the house-elves, were treated like vermin, sir! Oh, of course, Dobby is still treated like that, he admitted, wiping his face with his pillowcase, but for many of us, life has improved since you triumphed over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Harry Potter survived and the Dark Lord's power was broken.
It was a new dawn, sir, and Harry Potter shone like a flame of hope for those of us who thought the dark days would never end... But now, at Hogwarts, terrible things are brewing, perhaps even happening at this moment, and Dobby cannot let Harry Potter stay here, now that history is about to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets has been opened once again...
At that moment, Dobby froze, as if struck by horror, then he grabbed the water jug from the bedside table and smashed it over his own head. He collapsed from the impact and reappeared a moment later, cross-eyed and muttering:
Naughty Dobby, very naughty Dobby...
So, there really is a Chamber of Secrets? Harry murmured. And... you say it has been opened again? Does that mean it was opened in the past? Tell me, Dobby.
He grabbed the skeletal wrist of the elf who was trying to take the carafe again.
I was not born of Muggle parents, said Harry, so why should I be afraid of what is in the Chamber?
Ah, sir, don't ask anything more of poor Dobby, stammered the elf, his eyes bulging. Dark deeds are being prepared in this castle and Harry Potter must not be here when they happen. Go home, Harry Potter. Harry Potter must not be involved in this, sir, it's too dangerous...
Who is it, Dobby? Asked Harry, holding the elf's wrist firmly to prevent him from hitting himself on the head with the jug. Who opened the Chamber? And who opened it before?
Dobby can't say anything, sir, Dobby mustn't say anything! Squeaked the elf. Go home, Harry Potter, go home!
There is no way I'm leaving here! Harry replied fiercely. One of my best friends was born to Muggle parents, he will be one of the first targets if the Chamber has really been opened...
Harry Potter risks his own life for his friends! Moaned Dobby in a kind of pitiful ecstasy. He is so noble! So brave! But he must save his own life, he must, Harry Potter must not...
Okay, I understand and I won't leave. Just promise me not to start this kind of messed-up plan again. Frankly, your plan is stupid. Whatever you do to me, they can fix me in three seconds. Or at least heal me faster than in the Muggle world. There's no chance I'll go home because of an injury. If I were you, I would try to get blamed for something serious and get expelled...
Dobby suddenly froze, his face fixed by a revelation.
No, that's not what I meant, it's a very bad plan! Harry whispered, looking terrified.
There was a loud crack and Harry's hand, which was holding Dobby's wrist, closed on thin air. He then shouted:
No Dobby, don't be stupid!
After waiting for a few moments without receiving a response, he let himself fall back onto the bed and tried to go back to sleep. But a few moments later, Dumbledore entered the room backwards. He was wearing a long dressing gown and a nightcap. He was holding one end of a long object that seemed to be a statue. Professor McGonagall appeared in turn, carrying the other end of the statue, which they placed on a bed.
Go get Madam Pomfrey, murmured Dumbledore.
Professor McGonagall passed by Harry's bed and disappeared. Harry remained still, pretending to sleep. He heard voices speaking hurriedly, and Professor McGonagall returned to the room, followed by Madam Pomfrey who was putting on a cardigan over her nightgown.
What happened? Whispered Madam Pomfrey, leaning over the statue.
A new attack, replied Dumbledore. Minerva found him on the stairs.
There was a bunch of grapes next to him, said Professor McGonagall. I think he wanted to visit Potter.
Harry felt his stomach contract painfully. Carefully, he raised himself a few centimeters to see the statue lying on the bed. The glow of a moonbeam allowed him to recognize the face of Colin Creevey. His eyes were wide open and his hands stretched out in front of him held his camera.
Petrified? murmured Madame Pomfrey.
Yes, replied Professor McGonagall, but... I shudder just thinking about it... If Albus hadn't come down at that moment, who knows what could have...
All three of them observed Colin Creevey for a long time. Then Dumbledore leaned over and pulled the camera from his frozen hands.
Do you think he could have taken a picture of his attacker? Professor McGonagall asked hastily.
Dumbledore did not respond. He opened the device.
Mercy! exclaimed Madam Pomfrey. A jet of steam hissed out of the camera and Harry smelled a sharp odor of burning plastic.
Melted, said Madam Pomfrey thoughtfully. The film has completely melted...
What does this mean, Albus? Asked Professor McGonagall in a worried voice.
That means, replied Dumbledore, that the Chamber of Secrets has indeed been opened a second time.
Madame Pomfrey pressed a hand against her mouth. Professor McGonagall looked at Dumbledore with wide, round eyes.
But Albus... who...
The question is not who, replied Dumbledore, his eyes fixed on Colin, but how...
And from what Harry could see of McGonagall's face, she didn't seem to understand any better than he did what Dumbledore had meant.
oOoOoOo
When Harry woke up on Sunday morning, the hospital wing was bathed in sparkling winter sunlight. His bones had regrown, but his arm was terribly stiff. He sat up and glanced towards Colin's petrified body, but a curtain drawn around the bed prevented him from seeing anything. Seeing that he was awake, Madam Pomfrey came in with the breakfast tray and began to massage, bend, and stretch his arm and fingers with the new bones.
Everything is in order, she said. When you have finished eating, you can leave.
Harry went to his common room, apprehensive about what would happen next. Even though he didn't like him, he was obviously sorry for Colin, but what worried him the most was that he had publicly threatened to send the monster after him just before the attack. He was going to be more of a suspect than ever, and it wouldn't improve his popularity among the Gryffindors, which was already extremely low due to his frequent confrontations with Weasley number 7.