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Hagrid," he said quietly, "I think you must have made a mistake. I don't think I can be an artist."
To his surprise, Hagrid chuckled.
"Not an artist, eh? Never made things happen when you was scared or angry?"
Harry looked in to the fire. Now he came to think about it... every odd thing that had ever made his aunt and uncle furious with him had happened when he, Harry, had become upset or angry... chased by Dudley's gang, he had suddenly found himself out of their reach... dreading going to school with that ridiculous haircut, he'd managed to make it a statement... and the very last time Dudley had hit him, hadn't he got his revenge, without even realizing he was doing it? Hadn't he set a boa constrictor on him in a large drawing in the washroom?
Harry looked back at Hagrid. "Harry Potter, not an artist -- you wait, you'll be right famous at CalArts."
But Uncle Vernon wasn't going to give in without a fight.
"Haven't I told you he's not going?" he hissed. "He's going to Stonewall Community College and he'll be grateful for it. I've read those letters and he heeds all sorts of rubbish -- theory books and cameras and--"
"If he wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won't stop him," growled Hagrid. "Stop Lily an' James Potter's son goin' ter CalArts! Yer mad. His name's been down ever since he was born. He's off ter the finest school of art in the world. Seven years there and he won't know himself. He'll be with youngsters of his own sort, fer a change, an' he'll be under the greatest headmaster CalArts ever had, Albus Dumbled--"
"I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HIM ART TRICKS!" yelled Uncle Vernon.
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