“That definitely makes it sound as if this chapter will be another with the Dursleys, so they still have time to make us mad at them,” Luna said.
“Oh joy,” Hermione said dully.
By twelve o’clock next day, Harry’s trunk was packed with his school things, and all his most prized possessions
“Cloak, broomstick, and map,” Harry listed, feeling as if those would be him most important items.
“Your school books, and other school things should be in there as well,” Hermione said.
“I know, but book me wouldn't consider those to be prized possessions,” Harry said.
“True,” Hermione said.
– the Invisibility Cloak he had inherited from his father, the broomstick he had got from Sirius, the enchanted map of Hogwarts he had been given by Fred and George Weasley last year. He had emptied his hiding place under the loose floorboard of all food, double-checked every nook and cranny of his bedroom for forgotten spellbooks or quills,
“Look, I still have them as well,” Harry said.
and taken down the chart on the wall counting the days down to September the first, on which he liked to cross off the days remaining until his return to Hogwarts.
“Are you going to hang it up on the wall at Ron's?” Hermione asked.
“No, probably not, but that doesn't mean that I can't still use it,” Harry said. “I'll probably keep it with my stuff of something.”
The atmosphere inside number four Privet Drive was extremely tense. The imminent arrival at their house of an assortment of wizards was making the Dursleys uptight and irritable.
“Not surprising,” Luna muttered.
Uncle Vernon had looked downright alarmed when Harry informed him that the Weasleys would be arriving at five o’clock the very next day.
“Yeah, that doesn't really give them a lot of time to plan,” Hermione said.
“And, knowing the Weasleys, chances are that they'll be late,” Cedric added.
“I hope you told them to dress properly, these people,” he snarled at once. “I’ve seen the sort of stuff your lot wear. They’d better have the decency to put on normal clothes, that’s all.”
“Well, depending on who comes says whether they will or not, but considering that normal to them is wearing the robes they do, he can't tell them to wear normal clothes,” Luna said.
Harry felt a slight sense of foreboding. He had rarely seen Mr. or Mrs. Weasley wearing anything that the Dursleys would call ‘normal’. Their children might don Muggle clothing during the holidays, but Mr. and Mrs. Weasley usually wore long robes in varying states of shabbiness. Harry wasn’t bothered about what the neighbours would think, but he was anxious about how rude the Dursleys might be to the Weasleys if they turned up looking like their worst idea of wizards.
“They'd be dumb, considering that Dudley ended up with a pig's tail last time your uncle got on the wrong side of a wizard,” Hermione said.
Uncle Vernon had put on his best suit. To some people, this might have looked like a gesture of welcome, but Harry knew it was because Uncle Vernon wanted to look impressive and intimidating.
“I doubt it's really possible,” Hermione said.
“To someone weak, it is,” Harry told her. Hermione frowned at that.
Dudley, on the other hand, looked somehow diminished.
“Somehow, I doubt it's because the diet is taking effect,” Cedric said.
This was not because the diet was at last taking effect, but due to fright. Dudley had emerged from his last encounter with a fully-grown wizard with a curly pig’s tail poking out of the seat of his trousers, and Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had had to pay for its removal at a private hospital in London.
“Which was a pity, because it went well with him,” Luna said.
It wasn’t altogether surprising, therefore, that Dudley kept running his hand nervously over his backside, and walking sideways from room to room, so as not to present the same target to the enemy.
“I doubt he actually presented his behind to Hagrid in the first place,” Hermione said.
Lunch was an almost silent meal. Dudley didn’t even protest at the food (cottage cheese and grated celery).
“That's probably a first since the diet started,” Harry said.
Aunt Petunia wasn’t eating anything at all. Her arms were folded, her lips were pursed and she seemed to be chewing her tongue, as though biting back the furious diatribe she longed to throw at Harry.
“Most likely,” Harry said.
“I can almost imagine what she wants to say,” Hermione said. However, she didn't say what she thought Petunia would say, choosing to continue with the chapter instead.
“They’ll be driving, of course?” Uncle Vernon barked across the table.
“Er,” said Harry.
“I don't think so,” Harry said.
He hadn’t thought of that. How were the Weasleys going to pick him up?
“That is a good question,” Hermione said.
They didn’t have a car any more; the old Ford Anglia they had once owned was currently running wild in the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts. But Mr. Weasley had borrowed a Ministry of Magic car last year; possibly he would do the same today?
“I doubt it,” Cedric said. “The previous year was done because there were extenuating circumstances.”
“I think so,” said Harry.
Uncle Vernon snorted into his moustache. Normally, Uncle Vernon would have asked what car Mr. Weasley drove; he tended to judge other men on how big and expensive their cars were. But Harry doubted whether Uncle Vernon would have taken to Mr. Weasley even if he drove a Ferrari.
“They're wizards, therefore they probably don't matter to Uncle Vernon,” Harry said.
“Yeah, he probably thinks them as being lower than he is,” Hermione said.
“He thinks that about everyone,” Harry told her.
Harry spent most of the afternoon in his bedroom; he couldn’t stand watching Aunt Petunia peer out through the net curtains every few seconds, as though there had been a warning about an escaped rhinoceros.
“That would be annoying to watch after a while,” Harry said.
Finally, at a quarter to five, Harry went back downstairs and into the living room.
Aunt Petunia was compulsively straightening cushions. Uncle Vernon was pretending to read the paper, but his tiny eyes were not moving, and Harry was sure he was really listening with all his might for the sound of an approaching car.
“Oh no,” Harry said suddenly, as if something had occurred to him.
“What?” Cedric asked.
“I just realized that it's possible that they'd probably use some sort of magical way to get there,” Harry said.
“True, they just might try to use the floo... Mr. Weasley is well liked enough for it...” Cedric said.
“Yeah, and the Dursleys have a boarded up fireplace,” Harry said.
“Oh,” Hermione said, realizing what the problem was. “If they come by floo, they won't be able to get through without blowing the area up.”
Dudley was crammed into an armchair, his porky hands beneath him, clamped firmly around his bottom. Harry couldn’t take the tension; he left the room, and went and sat on the stairs in the hall, his eyes on his watch and his heart pumping fast from excitement and nerves.
But five o’clock came and then went.
“I have the feeling that they'd be late,” Cedric said.
“I wonder why, though. I mean, they only need one person to come pick you up,” Hermione said.
“Just because they only need one doesn't mean that there won't be those who want to come with,” Luna said. “I have the feeling that Ron and the twins, at the very least, probably want to come with.”
“True,” Hermione said.
Uncle Vernon, perspiring slightly in his suit, opened the front door, peered up and down the street, then withdrew his head quickly.
“They’re late!“ he snarled at Harry.
“I'm not stupid, I can tell that myself,” Harry said.
“I know,” said Harry. “Maybe – er – the traffic’s bad, or something.”
Ten past five ... then a quarter past five ... Harry was starting to feel anxious himself now. At half past, he heard Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia conversing in terse mutters in the living room.
“I have the feeling that I'm in the hall,” Harry said.
“No consideration at all.”
“We might’ve had an engagement.”
“Maybe they think they’ll get invited to dinner if they’re late.”
“Doubt it,” Cedric said. “Between the fact that you had to ask for food – which would suggest that the food there is horrible – Mrs. Weasley's cooking is awesome, and none of them would willingly miss it.”
“Well, they most certainly won’t be,” said Uncle Vernon, and Harry heard him stand up and start pacing the living room. “They’ll take the boy and go, there’ll be no hanging around. That’s if they’re coming at all. Probably mistaken the day. I daresay their kind don’t set much store by punctuality.”
“I would imagine that it's just like other people in general. Some prefer to be early, some prefer to be right on the dot, and others can't help but be late – of course, there are those who are late on purpose as well,” Hermione said. “I don't think it really matters if someone has magic or not.”
“Either that or they drive some tinpot car that’s broken d-AAAAAAAARRRRRGH!”
“I think they've arrived,” Luna said, smiling.
Harry jumped up. From the other side of the living-room door came the sounds of the three Dursleys scrambling, panic-stricken, across the room. Next moment Dudley came flying into the hall, looking terrified.
“They've definitely arrived,” Cedric said, knowing that would be the only thing that would scare Dudley that much, considering what happened to him the last time.
“What happened?” said Harry. “What’s the matter?”
But Dudley didn’t seem able to speak. Hands still clamped over his buttocks, he waddled as fast as he could into the kitchen. Harry hurried into the living room.
Loud hangings and scrapings were coming from behind the Dursleys’ boarded-up fireplace, which had a fake coal fire plugged in front of it.
“So they did try to arrive by floo,” Luna said.
“I do wonder if they just assumed that your family had a fireplace or something,” Hermione said. “I mean, I say that because not all houses are built with one in them.”
“Yeah, it is kind of presumptuous to assume that the house is,” Harry said.
“What is it?” gasped Aunt Petunia, who had backed into the wall and was staring, terrified, towards the fire. “What is it, Vernon?”
But they were left in doubt barely a second longer. Voices could be heard from inside the blocked fireplace.
“That'll hep me realize what's going on,” Harry said.
“Ouch! Fred, no – go back, go back, there’s been some kind of mistake – tell George not to – OUCH! George, no, there’s no room, go back quickly and tell Ron –“
“I don't think they'll be able to go back in time to keep others Ron from coming,” Cedric said.
“Maybe Harry can hear us, Dad – maybe he’ll be able to let us out –“
There was a loud hammering of fists on the boards behind the electric fire.
“And now they'll be trying to get my attention,” Harry said.
“Harry? Harry, can you hear us?”
The Dursleys rounded on Harry like a pair of angry wolverines.
“What is this?” growled Uncle Vernon. “What’s going on?”
“They – they’ve tried to get here by Floo powder,” said Harry, fighting a mad desire to laugh.
“It is rather funny,” Cedric said.
“They can travel by fire – only you’ve blocked the fireplace – hang on –“
He approached the fireplace and called through the boards.
“Mr. Weasley? Can you hear me?”
The hammering stopped. Somebody inside the chimney-piece said, “Shh!”
“That would probably be Mr. Weasley, so he can hear,” Luna said.
“Mr. Weasley, it’s Harry ... the fireplace has been blocked up. You won’t be able to get through there.”
“Damn!” said Mr. Weasley’s voice. “What on earth did they want to block up the fireplace for?”
“Having an electric fire is cleaner,” Harry said. “Aunt Petunia has been wanting the fireplace to be boarded-up for a while. I have a feeling she got her wish after the letter incident, since it's not boarded up at the moment.”
“The letter incident is probably what helped convince your Uncle to do that,” Hermione said.
“I have the feeling that your right,” Harry agreed.
“They’ve got an electric fire,” Harry explained.
“You know, that's going to excite Mr. Weasley quite a bit,” Cedric said.
“True,” Luna said.
“Really?” said Mr. Weasley’s voice excitedly. “Ecklectic, you say? With a plug? Gracious, I must see that ...”
“Hopefully, he realizes that now's not the time to get all excited about it,” Luna said.
“let’s think ... ouch, Ron!”
“Well, Ron's arrival will help make sure that doesn't happen,” Hermione said.
Ron’s voice now joined the others’.
“What are we doing here? Has something gone wrong?”
“No, whoever came up with the idea of flooing didn't take into account the fact that they might not have an opened fireplace,” Luna said. “Which is kind of weird, as almost all wizarding houses or flats have one, because of the fact that people use flooing so much.”
“So, it's not surprising that they didn't think about it, is that what your saying,” Hermione said. Luna nodded her head.
“Oh, no, Ron,” came Fred’s voice, very sarcastically. “No, this is exactly where we wanted to end up.”
“Yeah, we’re having the time of our lives here,” said George,
The readers snorted at what the two said.
whose voice sounded muffled, as though he was squashed against the wall.
“Boys, boys ...” said Mr. Weasley vaguely. “I’m trying to think what to do ... yes ... only way ... stand back, Harry.”
“He's going to blast his way through,” Cedric said.
Harry retreated to the sofa. Uncle Vernon, however, moved forwards.
“Oh, this should be good,” Luna said.
“He's going to try and find out what Mr. Weasley is going to do,” Cedric said, sounding humoured.
“Wait a moment!” he bellowed at the fire. “What exactly are you going to –?”
BANG.
The electric fire shot across the room as the boarded-up fireplace burst outwards, expelling Mr. Weasley, Fred, George and Ron in a cloud of rubble and loose chippings.
“Oh, Aunt Petunia is not going to like that,” Harry said. By the tone of his voice, it was obvious that he didn't care, though. In fact, he sounded amused at the fact.
Aunt Petunia shrieked and fell backwards over the coffee table; Uncle Vernon caught her before she hit the floor and gaped, speechless, at the Weasleys, all of whom had bright red hair, including Fred and George, who were identical to the last freckle.
“That's such a nice impression to make on the Dursleys,” Luna said. “Blow apart the living room and be expelled from the fireplace.”
“That’s better,” panted Mr. Weasley,
“I'm sure,” Harry said.
brushing dust from his long green robes
“Oh, poor Dursleys, they're not in what you would consider to be normal clothes,” Hermione said.
and straightening his glasses. “Ah – you must be Harry’s aunt and uncle!”
Tall, thin and balding, he moved towards Uncle Vernon, his hand outstretched,
“Uncle Vernon won't touch him,” Harry said. “He'll probably think he'll end up with a disease if he does.”
but Uncle Vernon backed away several paces, dragging Aunt Petunia. Words utterly failed Uncle Vernon. His best suit was covered in white dust, which had settled in his hair and moustache and made him look as though he had just aged thirty years.
“It's probably a good look for him,” Cedric said.
“Er – yes – sorry about that,” said Mr. Weasley, lowering his hand and looking over his shoulder at the blasted fireplace.
“Mr. Weasley is being rather polite, despite the fact that they don't deserve it,” Hermione said.
“Well, he is that way towards most people,” Luna said.
“It’s all my fault, it just didn’t occur to me that we wouldn’t be able to get out at the other end.”
“Well, after hearing what Luna said, I can't say I blame him,” Hermione said.
“I don't either,” Harry agreed.
“I had your fireplace connected to the Floo Network, you see – just for an afternoon, you know, so we could get Harry. Muggle fireplaces aren’t supposed to be connected, strictly speaking – but I’ve got a useful contact at the Floo Regulation Panel and he fixed it for me.”
“I don't think it's actually illegal to do that, though,” Cedric said. “I mean, while it's not supposed to be connected, it can in emergencies, and, well, I wouldn't be surprised if they treated it like an emergency should the useful contact know that it was to your house.”
“Really?” Harry said. “That's interesting.”
“I can put it right in a jiffy, though, don’t worry. I’ll light a fire to send the boys back, and then I can repair your fireplace before I Disapparate.”
“And the Dursleys probably didn't understand a single word of that,” Hermione said.
“Most likely,” Luna said.
Harry was ready to bet that the Dursleys hadn’t understood a single word of this. They were still gaping at Mr. Weasley, thunderstruck. Aunt Petunia staggered upright again, and hid behind Uncle Vernon.
“Civility and manners are obviously beyond them,” Hermione said.
“Hello, Harry!” said Mr. Weasley brightly.
“Which probably irritates your relatives,” Cedric said.
“Most likely,” Harry said.
“Got your trunk ready?”
“It’s upstairs,” said Harry, grinning back.
“I wonder if you'll go get it, or of someone will offer to do it,” Luna said. “After all, the twins do know where your bedroom is if they decide to go get it.”
“We’ll get it,” said Fred at once.
“He's up to something,” Cedric said suspiciously.
Winking at Harry, he and George left the room. They knew where Harry’s bedroom was, having once rescued him from it in the dead of night. Harry suspected that Fred and George were hoping for a glimpse of Dudley; they had heard a lot about him from Harry.
“I have the feeling that what they've heard is nothing good,” Luna said.
“Since I have nothing good to say about him, that makes sense,” Harry said.
“Well,” said Mr. Weasley, swinging his arms slightly, while he tried to find words to break the very nasty silence. “Very – erm – very nice place you’ve got here.”
There were some more snorts at that again. Considering that the living room was now covered with dust and bits of brick, it probably didn't look all that great anymore.
As the usually spotless living room was now covered in dust and bits of brick, this remark didn’t go down too well with the Dursleys. Uncle Vernon’s face purpled once more, and Aunt Petunia started chewing her tongue again. However, they seemed too scared to actually say anything.
“Thankfully,” Harry said. “I'd hate for Mr. Weasley to suffer abuse from them because they're idiots.”
Mr. Weasley was looking around. He loved everything to do with Muggles.
“He's probably itching to check things out,” Luna said.
Harry could see him itching to go and examine the television and the video recorder.
“They run off eckeltricity, do they?” he said knowledgeably.
“He's saying it wrong,” Hermione said, frowning.
“Ah yes, I can see the plugs. I collect plugs,” he added to Uncle Vernon. “And batteries. Got a very large collection of batteries.”
“That kind of makes him sound mad,” Harry said.
“My wife thinks I’m mad, but there you are.”
“Think my relatives will agree with Mrs. Weasley's thoughts,” Harry said.
Uncle Vernon clearly thought Mr. Weasley was mad, too. He moved ever so slightly to the right, screening Aunt Petunia from view, as though he thought Mr. Weasley might suddenly run at them and attack.
“Mr. Weasley won't do that,” Luna said. “He has good manners. The only reason why he'd attack you is if he was protecting himself or his family.”
Dudley suddenly reappeared in the room. Harry could hear the clunk of his trunk on the stairs, and knew that the sounds had scared Dudley out of the kitchen.
“So, instead of actually staying in the kitchen, where he's most likely be safe and not meet any wizards, he comes to where he's sure to meet some,” Hermione said. She shook her head. It was yet another sign of the lack of a brain Dudley had.
Dudley edged along the wall, gazing at Mr. Weasley with terrified eyes, and attempted to conceal himself behind his mother and father. Unfortunately, Uncle Vernon’s bulk, while sufficient to hide bony Aunt Petunia, was nowhere near enough to conceal Dudley.
“That's just sad,” Luna said. “That he even surpasses his father in width.”
“Well, honestly, if he does that, I have a feeling that Uncle Vernon is actually stay true to the diet, and has probably lost some weight,” Harry said. “He wouldn't dare go against my aunt when it comes to that. Plus, as we saw in the last chapter, Dudley probably steals Uncle Vernon's food any chance he gets, so he's eating even less that what's said he's getting.”
“I'd feel sorry for him if it wasn't him,” Hermione said. After what pain it had said Harry suffered already, any pain towards the Dursleys were well deserved in her eyes.
“Ah, this is your cousin, is it, Harry?” said Mr. Weasley, taking another brave stab at making conversation.
“Don't know why, it's not worth it,” Luna said.
“Yep,” said Harry, “that’s Dudley.”
He and Ron exchanged glances and then quickly looked away from each other; the temptation to burst out laughing was almost overwhelming. Dudley was still clutching his bottom as though afraid it might fall off.
“That would be extremely weird to someone who doesn't know why,” Cedric said.
Mr. Weasley, however, seemed genuinely concerned at Dudley’s peculiar behaviour. Indeed, from the tone of his voice when he next spoke, Harry was quite sure that Mr. Weasley thought Dudley was quite as mad as the Dursleys thought he was,
“I think the entire family is mad,” Hermione said. “I mean the Dursleys,” she added, before anyone could ask which family, though she doubted they actually would.
except that Mr. Weasley felt sympathy rather than fear.
“Of course,” Cedric said. “While Mr. Weasley is kind like that, he also believes that, as Muggles, they are no match for him if it came down to a fight.”
“With the Dursleys, I'll believe that, but I don't think it's completely true with every Muggle,” Hermione said. “Like, those in the military and those who know how to dodge well, they might have a chance.”
“Oh, I can't say, since I don't know Muggles that well,” Cedric said. “However, most wizards believe that Muggles can never get a one-up over them, that, in any fight, they'd win because they have magic.”
“I know for a fact that wouldn't be true, because the military does have snipers, and they can kill someone yards away,” Hermione said. “The person dying wouldn't even know who killed them, because they wouldn't be able to see them.”
“Really?” Luna said. Hermione nodded, then went back to the chapter.
“Having a good holiday, Dudley?” he said kindly.
Dudley whimpered. Harry saw his hands tighten still harder over his massive backside.
“Definitely would look weird,” Cedric said.
Fred and George came back into the room, carrying Harry’s school trunk. They glanced around as they entered and spotted Dudley. Their faces cracked into identical, evil grins.
“Definitely planning something,” Luna said.
“Ah, right,” said Mr. Weasley. “Better get cracking, then.”
“Yay, I'll be able to leave soon,” Harry said.
He pushed up the sleeves of his robes and took out his wand. Harry saw the Dursleys draw back against the wall as one.
“Oh, yeah, the wand is the worse bit for them,” Harry said.
“Incendio!” said Mr. Weasley, pointing his wand at the hole in the wall behind him.
Flames rose at once in the fireplace, crackling merrily as though they had been burning for hours. Mr. Weasley took a small drawstring bag from his pocket, untied it, took a pinch of the powder inside and threw it onto the flames, which turned emerald green and roared higher than ever.
“That would probably be interesting to see,” Hermione said. “I mean, I know that it was described in the second book to do that, but still, it would be interesting to see.”
“Off you go then, Fred,” said Mr. Weasley.
“Coming,” said Fred. “Oh no – hang on –“
A bag of sweets had spilled out of Fred’s pocket and the contents were now rolling in every direction – big, fat toffees in brightly coloured wrappers.
“Oh, dear,” Harry said. “Somehow, I don't think those are normal toffees.”
“If they're coming from Fred, chances are that they're not,” Cedric said.
“And I have the feeling that Fred will somehow miss picking up at least one of them,” Luna added.
Fred scrambled around, cramming them back into his pocket, then gave the Dursleys a cheery wave, stepped forward and walked right into the fire, saying, “The Burrow!” Aunt Petunia gave a little shuddering gasp.
“Probably both at the volume it was said, and the fact that a burrow is a rabbit's home,” Hermione said. “Meaning that she's probably connecting it to some sort of dirt, meaning that the place is probably filthy.”
There was a whooshing sound, and Fred vanished.
“Right then, George,” said Mr. Weasley, “you and the trunk.”
“So, the twins first,” Luna said.
“Probably for two reasons,” Cedric said. “First, they're probably the best to deal with your trunk, and, second, Mr. Weasley probably wants to try and prevent them from doing a prank on your relatives.”
Harry helped George carry the trunk forward into the flames, and turn it onto its end so that he could hold it better. Then, with a second whoosh, George had cried, “The Burrow!” and vanished too.
“Ron, you next,” said Mr. Weasley.
“Mr. Weasley probably thinks that you'll want some time to say bye to your relatives,” Hermione said.
“He's going to be in a big surprise when he learns that it's not true,” Luna said.
“See you,” said Ron brightly to the Dursleys.
“They're probably think 'NO!!!!' in there minds,” Harry said, laughing a bit.
He grinned broadly at Harry, then stepped into the fire, shouted, “The Burrow!” and disappeared.
Now Harry and Mr. Weasley alone remained.
“Well ... bye then,” Harry said to the Dursleys.
They didn’t say anything at all.
“Not surprising,” Harry said.
Harry moved towards the fire, but just as he reached the edge of the hearth, Mr. Weasley put out a hand and held him back. He was looking at the Dursleys in amazement.
“Yeah, it's amazing to see such rude and worthless people, isn't it?” Luna said.
“Harry said goodbye to you,” he said. “Didn’t you hear him?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Harry muttered to Mr. Weasley. “Honestly, I don’t care.”
Mr. Weasley did not remove his hand from Harry’s shoulder.
“Oh dear, he's going to make a big deal about it, isn't he?” Harry said.
“I think so,” Luna said.
“You aren’t going to see your nephew ’til next summer,” he said to Uncle Vernon in mild indignation. “Surely you’re going to say goodbye?”
“They most likely had no plan of doing so, since you're nothing to them,” Cedric said.
“They won't like the fact that they're being taught consideration by Mr. Weasley,” Harry said. “Not only because he blasted half of the living room away, but also because he's a wizard.”
“Well, obviously he need to learn it somehow,” Luna said. “If it has to be from a wizard, too bad, he should have worked to learn it from someone else before that point.”
Uncle Vernon’s face worked furiously. The idea of being taught consideration by a man who had just blasted away half his living-room wall seemed to be causing him intense suffering.
“Good,” Hermione said viciously.
But Mr. Weasley’s wand was still in his hand, and Uncle Vernon’s tiny eyes darted to it once, before he said, very resentfully, “Goodbye, then.”
“He's probably going to rant about it after we leave,” Harry said.
“See you,” said Harry,
“I wonder if I'm shocked that he gave in or not,” Harry said.
putting one foot forward into the green flames, which felt pleasantly like warm breath. At that moment, however, a horrible gagging sound erupted behind him, and Aunt Petunia started to scream.
“Dudley,” Luna said. She had the feeling that was the only reason why Petunia Dursley would start to scream, since Vernon was paying attention to Mr. Weasley.
Harry wheeled around. Dudley was no longer standing behind his parents. He was kneeling beside the coffee table, and he was gagging and spluttering on a foot-long, purple, slimy thing that was protruding from his mouth.
“Ew,” Hermione said.
“What is that?” Luna said, wrinkling her nose.
“I'm not sure,” Cedric said. “I just have the feeling that it's the result of something done by the twins.”
One bewildered second later, Harry realised that the foot-long thing was Dudley’s tongue – and that a brightly coloured toffee-wrapper lay on the floor before him.
“So Fred did leave one behind,” Hermione said, shaking her head. “You know, I kind of feel sorry for your cousin. This is the second time he's been 'attacked' by wizards, after all.”
“True,” Harry said. He couldn't find it in himself to feel sorry for Dudley, though, not after everything that Dudley had done to hurt him. He didn't say that to her, though.
Aunt Petunia hurled herself onto the ground beside Dudley, seized the end of his swollen tongue and attempted to wrench it out of his mouth;
“Ow, is she trying to hurt him even more,” Hermione said.
“Apparently,” Cedric said.
unsurprisingly, Dudley yelled and spluttered worse than ever, trying to fight her off.
“Yeah, I don't blame him,” Harry said.
Uncle Vernon was bellowing and waving his arms around, and Mr. Weasley had to shout to make himself heard.
“Not to worry, I can sort him out!” he yelled, advancing on Dudley with his wand outstretched,
“That's not going to have any good results,” Luna said.
but Aunt Petunia screamed worse than ever and threw herself on top of Dudley, shielding him from Mr. Weasley.
“Which isn't going to do any good,” Hermione said. “He's going to seem wizarding help to deal with it.”
“No, really!” said Mr. Weasley desperately. “It’s a simple process – it was the toffee – my son Fred – real practical joker – but it’s only an Engorgement Charm – at least, I think it is”
“I would imagine so, since, if it was a potion, they'd have a lot more work to deal with,” Cedric said.
“– please, I can correct it –“
“Sorry, Mr. Weasley, but common sense will not even touch their minds,” Harry said.
But far from being reassured, the Dursleys became more panic-stricken; Aunt Petunia was sobbing hysterically, tugging Dudley’s tongue as though determined to rip it out;
“I have the feeling that if she did that, she could probably kill him,” Hermione said.
Dudley appeared to be suffocating under the combined pressure of his mother and his tongue, and Uncle Vernon, who had lost control completely, seized a china figure from on top of the sideboard, and threw it very hard at Mr. Weasley, who ducked, causing the ornament to shatter in the blasted fireplace.
“And now I really think it's best that you leave, and leave soon,” Luna said. “Before you get hurt.”
“Now really!” said Mr. Weasley, angrily,
“Well, of course he's angry, he's getting things thrown at him,” Cedric said. “And he's only trying to help them.”
brandishing his wand. “I’m trying to help!”
Bellowing like a wounded hippo, Uncle Vernon snatched up another ornament.
“I think it would be best if Mr. Weasley did something to him before he does something to hurt him,” Hermione said.
“Harry, go! Just go!” Mr. Weasley shouted, his wand on Uncle Vernon. “I’ll sort this out!”
Harry didn’t want to miss the fun,
“Didn't think I would,” Harry said.
but Uncle Vernon’s second ornament narrowly missed his left ear,
“But then again, it definitely is best that I do,” Harry added.
and on balance he thought it best to leave the situation to Mr. Weasley. He stepped into the fire, looking over his shoulder as he said, “The Burrow!”; his last fleeting glimpse of the living room was of Mr. Weasley blasting a third ornament out of Uncle Vernon’s hand with his wand,
“That's both good and bad,” Luna said. “It's good because Mr. Weasley won't be hurt, but bad because your uncle might do something worse than throwing ornaments at him.”
Aunt Petunia screaming and lying on top of Dudley, and Dudley’s tongue lolling around like a great slimy python.
“Such a lovely image,” Hermione said drolly.
But next moment Harry had begun to spin very fast, and the Dursleys’ living room was whipped out of sight in a rush of emerald green flames.
“And that's the end of the chapter,” Hermione said. “And it also looks as though we can get through a chapter of these books without the knick knacks breaking.”
“Yeah, but it might end up coming back next book,” Luna said. Hermione had to admit that she had a point as she handed the book over to Cedric, who turned to the next page.