Harry's gaze remained locked on the screen. After an initial instant of blankness, his mind began working at an astonishing speed.
He had heard Douglas say that Lockhart's greatest strengths were memory magic and writing.
The people being shown alongside him.
Although Harry did not recognize them.
To be wanted alongside someone imprisoned in Azkaban.
It could only mean a mass breakout.
Harry broke out in a cold sweat.
These people had not been wrongly imprisoned like Sirius.
"Something terrible has happened."
Harry turned around, speaking extremely quickly but with perfect clarity.
"We need to contact my maternal cousin and Sirius as soon as possible."
"Are you telling me what to do?"
Vernon's face flushed as he tried to stand up and reclaim his dignity as head of the household.
"I'm saving you."
Harry pointed at the photographs still cycling across the television.
"These people aren't ordinary criminals. They're wizards. If they can escape from Azkaban, they must be the most evil kind. Th-"
Vernon's face instantly turned ashen.
The pen in Dudley's hand dropped onto the carpet.
"You mean... people like your godfather?"
Petunia shrieked, clutching her chest with both hands.
"Worse than him. They have no reason, no limits."
Harry took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.
"But I won't let anything happen to you."
The old Harry would probably have already rushed into his room, stuffed a few clothes together at random, grabbed his Firebolt, and fled aimlessly into the rainy night.
He keenly sensed that this incident definitely had something to do with last summer's Quidditch World Cup.
But now, Douglas's face rose in his mind, always faintly mocking yet utterly dependable, along with Sirius's warm embrace.
"When you run into trouble you can't solve, remember, there's no shame in relying on adults.