“Yer a Muggle, Harry,” Hagrid announced, beaming with pride.

“A… what?” Harry blinked up at the towering figure, completely lost.

“A Muggle! Ordinary, plain, and powerful in your own way! It’s the rarest thing nowadays,” said the giant proudly. “Name’s Hagrid. Keeper of Unremarkable Places and groundsman for St. Brutus's Non-Magical Academy. I’ve come to take yeh away from all this wizard nonsense!”

Before Harry could process this, Uncle Vernon stepped forward, his eyes bulging with fury. He reached into his dressing gown, pulling out a sleek, black wand and pointed it directly at Hagrid.

“Now listen here, you great lout, I’m warning you. One more word, and I’ll hex you right back to the mountains you came from."

Hagrid snorted, utterly unimpressed, and swatted Vernon’s wand hand away. “Put that twig away, Wizard. Ain’t no spell powerful enough to keep me from takin’ young Harry where he belongs. He’s got Muggle blood in ‘im, clear as day.”

“Amazing,” Harry muttered, still trying to wrap his head around it. “So… no wands? No spells? Just… normal?”

“Tha’s right,” Hagrid said proudly. “You’ll learn how to change a flat tire, balance a checkbook, and survive with nothin’ but yer wits. Real practical skills!”