"The Vanishing Glass," Cedric read. Harry's eyes widened, remembering what had happen just a few weeks ago.
Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys' front door; it crept into their living room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr. Dursley had seen that fateful news report about the owls.
"So, basically, they don't like change all that much," Cedric said.
Only the photographs on the mantelpiece showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different-colored bonnets
"I'm not sure they should feel proud if he looked like a beach ball, but I do feel a bit sorry for him for having to wear bonnets," Hermione said.
– but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large blond boy riding his first bicycle, on a carousel at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother. The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house, too.
"I really wish that was because someone had come and gotten you," Luna said, already knowing from his comments in the first chapter that he was still there.
Yet Harry Potter was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. His Aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice that made the first noise of the day.
"Up! Get up! Now!"
Harry woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again.
"Sounds like a pleasant way to get up," Hermione said dryly.
"Up!" she screeched. Harry heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put in the stove. He rolled onto his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a good one. There had been a flying motorcycle in it. He had a funny feeling that he'd had the same dream before.
"More like you actually lived it," Cedric said.
His aunt was back outside the door.
"Are you up yet?" she demanded.
"Nearly," said Harry.
"Well, get a move on. I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn. I wanted everything to be perfect on Duddey's birthday."
The four laughed at that.
"That must have gotten you excited," Hermione commented once she finished laughing. Harry smiled at her vaguely.
Harry groaned.
Cedric laughed after he read that, noticing that Hermione had been right.
"What did you say?" his aunt snapped through the door.
"Nothing, nothing…"
Dudley's birthday – how could he have forgotten? Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair under his bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on. Harry was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where he slept.
"They…make…you…sleep…in…a…cupboard," Hermione slowly said, anger obvious in her voice. The others swallowed, slightly scared over her reaction. Harry slowly nodded. The sound of breaking glass filled the air, and the three – Hermione was to angry to really focus on anything else – of them turned to look at one of the tables in the room, the one that was in the corner nearest to Hermione, where they could see that the knick knacks on it were now broken – at least, most of them were broken. The began to fix themselves almost at once, only to break again as Hermione tried to speak once more.
"Those…" she started, unable to think of a good word to call them. A bigger amount of knick-knacks broke once more. Cedric reached over, patting her shoulder.
"We know, we know," he said, understanding what she was trying to get to. Even he was angry at the inconsiderate actions of Harry's aunt and uncle.
When he was dressed he went down the hall into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley's birthday presents. It looked as though Dudley had gotten a new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and the racing bike. Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was mystery to Harry, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise – unless of course it involved punching somebody.
He better not use Harry as a punching bag Hermione and Cedric thought.
Dudley's favorite punching bag was Harry, but he couldn't often catch him. Harry didn't look it, but he was very fast.
"Thankfully," he said, noticing the rather scary looks on Cedric's and Hermione's faces.
Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry had always been small and skinny for his age.
"No, that's not really it," Cedric said. "My dad once told me that it was a Potter gene. They start out small, but then begin to shoot up at some point."
Harry smiled at discovering that his size was due to genes, especially since he didn't know much about his family.
He looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's, and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was.
Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair, and bright green eyes.
"My mother was a friend of yours, and she told me how they looked. If I'm correct, everything but your eyes comes from you father, while your eyes come from you mother," said Cedric.
He wore round glasses
"Your father wore glasses as well," Cedric said.
held together with a lot of scotch tape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose.
Hermione looked angry once more; the sound of glass breaking went through the room once more, and Cedric took a small look at the table to see that, once again, the knick knacks were in the process of mending themselves. He had to admit, he was a bit impressed at the strange control it seemed she had over her magic, for he could feel it coming from her.
The only thing Harry liked about his own appearance was a very thin scar in his forehead that was shaped like a bolt of lightning. He had had it as long as he could remember, and the first question he could ever remember asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had gotten it.
"In the car crash when your parents died," she had said. "And don't ask questions."
"Is that what they told you?" Luna asked. "What about the letter that Dumbledore left? Did they ever mention that."
He shook his head.
"And what does she mean, 'don't ask questions'? How are you supposed to learn if you can't ask questions?" Hermione cried.
Don't ask questions – that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys.
Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon.
"Comb your hair!" he barked, by way of a morning greeting.
About once a week, Uncle Vernon looked over the top of his newspaper and shouted that Harry need a haircut. Harry must have had more haircuts than the rest of the bots in his class put together, but it made no difference, his hair simply grew that way – all over the place.
"Must irritate him," Hermione said, without sympathy. At the moment, anything that made his aunt and uncle uncomfortable was a good thing in her book. She just hoped that they experienced something more uncomfortable as the book went on.
Harry was frying the eggs by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother. Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small, watery blue eyes, and thick blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head. Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel –
"It sounds like he looks like a pig in a wig," Luna and Hermione said. Cedric, who agreed with them, allowed his eyes to read the next line, and laughed. Harry, who knew what he was probably laughing at, smirked, making Hermione and Luna look at the two with suspicion.
Harry often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig.
The others laughed, Luna and Hermione realizing what it was that had sent Cedric into a laughing fit while Harry sniggered.
"Looks like great minds think alike," Harry said. It took them a few minutes to compose themselves before Cedric continued to read.
Harry put the plates of egg and bacon on the table, which was difficult as there wasn't much room. Dudley, meanwhile, was counting his presents. His face fell.
"Thirty-six," he said, looking up to his mother and father. "That's two less than last year."
"Oh, please don't tell me that this is heading where I think it's heading," Hermione said. No one answered her, not having a clue as to what she was complaining about.
"He's going to get mad that he doesn't have the right about of gifts because they spoil him too much," she told them. Looks of understanding crossed their faces, but she wasn't finished yet. "And, of course, since they won't change or punish him like they should, they'll give him a couple more presents to make up for it."
Harry had to admit that he was surprised at the east of which she figured out what was going to happen.
"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mommy and Daddy."
"They speak to him as if he's a baby, not a boy of whatever age he is," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.
"All right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face. Harry, who could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began wolfing down his bacon as fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over.
"I hope you didn't choke yourself," Hermione said.
Aunt Petunia obviously scented danger, too, because she said quickly, "And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin? Two more presents. Is that all right?"
Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work. Finally he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty…thirty…"
"He can't even count," Hermione muttered, shaking her head.
Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia.
"Oh." Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then."
Uncle Vernon chuckled.
"Little tyke wants his money's worth just like his father. 'Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair.
"Idiot," muttered Hermione, who, so far, seemed to be the most vocal this chapter. "He should be punishing the boy for being greedy, not spoiling him."
At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a video camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new computer games, and a VCR. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petunia came back from the telephone looking both angry and worried.
"Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take him." She jerked her head in Harry's direction.
Dudley's mouth fell open in horror, but Harry's heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley's birthday, his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. Every year, harry was left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned.
"Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he'd planned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when he reminded himself it would be a while year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tuffy again.
Luna laughed. "She drilled their names into your head quite a bit, didn't she?"
"I can see why you're having trouble feeling sorry," Hermione added.
"We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested.
"Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy."
The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn't there – or rather, as though he was something very nasty that couldn't understand them, like a slug.
"Why those horrible, horrible people," seethed Hermione. Without realizing it, her mind went to what her parents had often told her – it you suspect someone is being abused, call the cops on them. She so wanted to do that, but realized that these books weren't here so that she could report abuse. Of course, that didn't mean that she couldn't give them hell anyways, and resolved to get Harry invited to her house the minute they had finished reading.
She knew that she would be able to do it; her parents would be so overjoyed that she had a new friend that they wouldn't ask to many questions. Of course, this didn't stop her anger all that much.
Again, breaking glass went through the room, and the others turned to see that, for once, the entire table top was littered with glass – not a single knick knack had survived.
"Wow, that's some impressive accidental magic," he said, in acknowledgement to her control. She blushed, but cheekily said, "That's nothing compared to some of the other things I've done. And you should hear my parents when they talk about things I've done." She said this, of course, in response to the fact that her parents had said that she tended to make pretty big things happen.
"What's accidental magic?" Harry asked.
"It's when you do magic, without a wand, that you didn't have any intention of doing," Cedric said. "Accidental magic usually happens when you feel an extreme emotion. It's also usually how the Ministry of Magic finds Muggleborns."
"Muggleborns?" Hermione asked.
"Witches and wizards that can do magic who come from a Muggle background," he explained. "Your probably one, since you didn't know about magic, and you mentioned earlier that you could do 'supposedly impossible things', which is what it would seem like to Muggleborns. Plus, that impressive displays from earlier also shows this fact. I have a feeling that your going to be pretty powerful."
"What about what's-her-name, your friend – Yvonne?"
"On vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia.
"I doubt you want to stay with her anyways. If she's friends with your aunt, she's probably a horrible person," Luna said.
"Actually, Yvonne isn't that bad," Harry said. "She's actually nice to me, though not completely. I know that if I had gone to her place, I would have probably been allowed to watch TV or something fun."
"You could just leave me here," Harry put in hopefully (he's be able to watch what he wanted on the television for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley's computer).
"Sorry, Harry, I don't think they'll go with that," Cedric said.
Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd swallowed a lemon.
"And come back and find the house in ruins?" she snarled.
"I won't blow up the house," said Harry, but they weren't listening.
"I suppose we could take him to the zoo," said Aunt Petunia slowly. "…and leave him in the car…"
"A part of me wished that they would," Hermione said. Harry looked at her sharply, as did the others.
"It's not that I want you to not have fun, it's just that it's illegal to leave kids under a certain age in cars alone. You aunt and uncle would have not only been in so much trouble for it, but it would have also alerted the police to the child abuse they put you through, as the police would have done a check into your home life to make sure that they aren't harming you. Both you and your cousin would have most likely been taken away from them, an action that would be more beneficial than harmful, if I'm being honest," she explained.
"How would it be more beneficial if both of us were taken?" Harry asked.
"They could have given you to a family that would actually care and take care of you properly, like mine. I know that mom and dad were planning on fostering another child a few months ago, but changed their minds for some reason," Hermione said. "And, though I really don't care about him, it would have also benefited your cousin, as he wouldn't be so spoiled, nor would he be so fat. Though they seem like they do, your aunt and uncle don't really care about their son, because if they did, they would have realized that they are doing more harm than good towards him."
"How do you figure that?" Cedric asked, being drawn into the conversation. Even Luna was listening carefully.
"One, his spoiled attitude won't work in the real world. He won't be prepared for the time he doesn't get his way, which means that he'll not only have trouble getting a job, but that he might end up arrested if he causing a public disruption. And the fact that they don't stop his bullying means that he won't realize that he can't bully people in real life, and will also end up arrested if attempts to bully the wrong person into getting what he wants.
"And then there's the fact that he's overweight, probably from the fact that he's allowed to eat whatever he wants?" she phrased this as a question, looking towards Harry for confirmation. He nodded his head. "Well, he obviously eats things with lots of sugar, and doesn't eat enough fruits and vegetables, or healthy foods in general. That means that he's at risk for several medical conditions, one of which could end up killing him."
She finished her spiel, looking towards Cedric to continue. It took him awhile to do so, as he had to wrap him head around the information Hermione had just given them. He couldn't help but admire how smart Hermione obviously was, a rare thing to find when it came to girls. At least, that's what he's discovered, for most girls tended to go completely brain dead when faced with him.
And, as he looked at her, watching her cheeks begin to redden, he noticed that she wasn't bad looking – he stopped his thoughts right there. She was practically three years his junior, too young for him to be having the thoughts that he knew had been about to come in his mind. Plus, he barely knew her, though he did like the fact that he could get to know her while they were here.
He shook his head to dispel his thoughts once more and cleared his throat.
"That car's new, he's not sitting in it alone…"
Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn't really crying – it had been years since he'd really cried – but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted.
Hermione scowled and Luna noticed.
"What's wrong, Hermione?" she asked, bringing the attention away from the book back to her.
"That's a tactic I use whenever I want to go to a bookstore," Hermione grumbled, hating that she had something in common with Dudley. She would never be able to do it again.
"Dinky Duddydums, – "
Everyone laughed out loud at that.
"– don't cry, Mummy won't let him spoil your special day!" she cried, flinging her arms around him.
"I…don't…want…him…t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between huge, pretend sobs. "He always sp-spoils everything!" He shot Harry a nasty grin through the gap in his mother's arms.
"Horrible, horrible boy," Luna said, sounding very unlike herself, for she hadn't said that in her usual dreamy voice.
Just then, the doorbell rang – "Oh good Lord, they're here!" said Aunt Petunia frantically – and a moment later, Dudley's best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother. Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held people's arms behind their back while Dudley hit them. Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once.
"Of course. He can't look weak in front of his friend," Cedric scoffed. He knew that, with his closest friends, he didn't have to worry about that; they wouldn't think of him weak if they saw him crying – not that he would. Men didn't cry.
Half an hour later, Harry, who couldn't believe his luck, was sitting in the back of the Dursleys' car with Piers and Dudley, on the way to the zoo for the first time in his life. His aunt and uncle hadn't been able to think of anything else to do with him, but before they'd left, Uncle Vernon had taken Harry aside.
"I'm warning you," he had said, putting his large purple face right up close to Harry's, "I'm warning you now, boy – any funny business, anything at all – and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas."
"Would he really do that?" Cedric asked. Harry nodded. Cedric's mind went back to the chapter title, and he was suddenly fearful and sympathetic towards Harry. Hermione, however, was once again seething. The sound of glass was beginning to become very familiar in the room, with how often it was heard from what the three had silently dubbed as 'Hermione's Corner'.
"I'm not going to do anything," said Harry, "honestly…"
But Uncle Vernon didn't believe him. No one ever did.
The problem was, strange things often happened around Harry and it was just no good telling the Dursleys he didn't make them happen.
Once, Aunt Petunia, tired of Harry coming back from the barbers looking as though he hadn't been at all, had taken a pair of kitchen scissors and cut his hair so short he was almost bald except for his bangs, which she left "to hide that horrible scar."
"Horrible woman." Hermione hissed.
Dudley had laughed himself silly at Harry, who spent a sleepless night imagining school the next day, where he was already laughed at for his baggy clothes and taped glasses. Next morning, however, he had gotten up to find his hair exactly as it had been before Aunt Petunia had sheared it off. He had been given a week in his cupboard for this, even though he had tried to explain that he couldn't explain how it had grown back so quickly.
"And there's an example of your accidental magic, Harry," Cedric said. "Which, of course, your aunt should know, especially since her sister was a witch."
Another time, Aunt Petunia had been trying to force him into a revolting old sweater of Dudley's (brown with orange puff balls). The harder she tried to pull it over his head, the smaller it seemed to become, until finally it might have fitted a hand puppet, but certainly would fit Harry. Aunt Petunia had decided it must have shrunk in the wash and, to his great relief, Harry wasn't punished.
"That's good to know, though I have to wonder if she honestly didn't notice that the shirt was shrinking in her hands," Hermione said.
"I don't know if she did or didn't. In truth, its mostly Uncle Vernon who thrives on the punishments for me. The only time she usually does is when it has to do with my accidental magic incidents, and even then, she usually lets Uncle Vernon handle it," he said.
On the other hand, he'd gotten into terrible trouble for being found on the roof of the school kitchens. Dudley's gang had been chasing him as usual when, as much to Harry's surprise as anyone else's, there he was sitting on the chimney. The Dursleys had received a very angry letter from Harry's headmistress telling them Harry had been climbing school buildings. But all he'd tried to do (as he shouted at Uncle Vernon through the locked door of his cupboard) was jump behind the big trash cans outside the kitchen doors.
"Sounds like you flew. But without a broom…" Cedric said, trailing off rather unsure if he was right.
"You apparated?" Luna asked, sounding surprised. She didn't know you could do that on accident.
Harry supposed that the wind must have caught him in mid-jump.
But today, nothing was going to go wrong. It was even worth being with Dudley and Piers to be spending the day somewhere that wasn't school, his cupboard, or Mrs. Figg's cabbage-smelling living room.
While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. He like to complain about things: people at work, Harry, the council, Harry, the bank, and Harry were just a few of his favorite subjects.
"I think we can figure out what his number one favorite complaint is," Hermione said dryly.
This morning, it was motorcycles.
"…roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as a motorcycle overtook them.
"I had a dream about a motorcycle," said Harry, remembering suddenly. "It was flying."
"Wrong thing to say," Luna said.
Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Harry, his face like a gigantic beet with a mustache: "MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!"
Dudley and Piers sniggered.
"I know they don't," said Harry. "It was only a dream."
But he wished he hadn't said anything. If there was one thing the Dursley hated even more than his asking questions, it was his talking about anything acting in a way it shouldn't, no matter if it was a in dream or even a cartoon – they seemed to think he might get dangerous ideas.
"I wonder if that's true, or if they have another reason to be afraid," Hermione said. Harry looked over to her.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"Well, since they know your parents were wizards, and they probably don't want you knowing, so they might be afraid that you'll realize that you can do magic if you see or talk about things that aren't normal, or something like that." She shook her head, not realizing that she wasn't putting it right.
It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with families. The Dursleys bought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice creams in the entrance and then, because the smiling lady in the van had asked Harry what he wanted before they could hurry him away, they bought him a cheap lemon ice pop.
"So you only got something because they couldn't get you away fast enough," Hermione said. She shook her head, feeling angry at them once more.
It wasn't bad, either, Harry thought, licking it as they watched a gorilla scratch its head who looked remarkably like Dudley, except that it wasn't blond.
Laughter ensued at this.
Harry had the best morning he'd had in a long time. He was careful to walk a like way apart from the Dursleys so that Dudley and Piers, who were starting to get bored with the animals by lunchtime, wouldn't fall back in their favorite hobby of hitting him. They are in the zoo restaurant, and when Dudley had a tantrum because his knickerbocker glory didn't have enough ice cream in tip, Uncle Vernon bought him another one and Harry was allowed to finish the first.
"That seems nice," Cedric said.
Harry fell, afterward, that he should have known it was all too good to last.
"Of course it was," Hermione sighed.
After lunch they went to the retile house. It was cool and dark in there, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. Dudley and Piers wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick, man-crushing pythons. Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernon's car and crushed it into a trash can – but at the moment it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep.
Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening brown coils.
"Make it move," he whined at his father. Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge.
"Yeah, because the snake is going to do what they want it to," Hermione commented dryly.
"Do it again," Dudley ordered. Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on.
"This is boring," Dudley moaned. He shuffled away.
Harry moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. He wouldn't have been surprised if it had died of boredom itself – no company except stupid people drumming their fingers on the glass trying to disturb it all day long. It was worse than having a cupboard as a bedroom, where the only visitor was Aunt Petunia hammering on the door to wake you up; at least he got to visit the rest of the house.
"Your sympathizing with a snake," Hermione said, sounding incredulous.
The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with Harry's.
It winked.
Cedric's voice was suddenly very alert. He had found it strange that snakes – which were the symbol of Slytherin's house in Hogwarts – were in this chapter, but the fact that it was winking at Harry didn't sound like it boded well.
"Snakes can't wink," Hermione said. "It's not physically possible."
Harry stared. Then he looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. He looked back at the snake and winked, too.
The snake jerked its head toward Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It gave Harry a look that said quite plainly: "I get that all the time."
"I know," Harry murmured through the glass, though he wasn't sure the snake could hear him. "It must be really annoying."
The snake nodded vigorously.
Cedric's voice shook, realizing that this snake could understand Harry. He was afraid to make assumptions, but it seemed like Harry was a Parselmouth. He wasn't sure what to think of that, but decided to continue reading, hoping that he was misreading the signs. He didn't dare to say anything quite yet.
Hermione noticed his reactions, but didn't say anything.
"Where do you come from, anyway?" Harry asked.
The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. Harry peered at it.
Boa Constrictor, Brazil.
"Was it nice there?"
The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Harry read on: This specimen was bred in the zoo. "On, I see – so you've never been to Brazil?"
As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind Harry made both of them jump. "DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!"
Dudley came waddling toward them as fast as he could.
"What is he, a penguin?" Hermione asked rhytorically.
"Out of the way, you," he said, punching Harry in the ribs. Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard on the concrete floor. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened – one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror.
Harry sat up and gasped; the glass front of the boa constrictor's tank had vanished. The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits.
"I remember that!" Hermione said suddenly. "I was there that day, but I wasn't in the reptile house. I was near the lions when it happened." She looked over to Harry. "I was that close to meeting you. I wish I had; I probably would have loved to talk to you."
Then she thought of something else.
"Wait a minute, does that mean that this chapter has already happened?"
Harry nodded.
"So you can't avoid this and whatever punishment is coming up," she said glumly. He nodded again.
As the snake slid swiftly past him, Harry could have sworn a low hissing voice said, "Brazil, here I come… Thanksss, amigo."
"The snake has manners," Hermione said, not finding anything strange about this, believing it to be a part of the world it sounded like she was going to enter at some point. "That's nice."
"You're a Parselmouth," Luna and Cedric said, though only Luna sounded surprised.
"I'm a what?" Harry asked.
"A Parselmouth. It means that you can talk to snakes," Cedric told him. Hermione looked at him.
"You didn't sound surprised to discover this," she said, sounding a bit suspiciously. The way it had been said seemed to say that it was something bad.
"I was suspecting it when the snaked winked and seemed to understand him," he said.
"And why am I getting the feeling that it's not a good thing?" she asked, realizing that he previous thoughts were wrong. "Can't loads of wizards do it?"
"No, it's a rare ability. And the reason why it's not a good thing is because the only known people who could speak it are also known as dark wizards," he said. Harry sat up and paid closer attention, the bottom of his stomach seemingly to disappear.
"And who are these wizards?" he asked slowly, almost as if he was unsure of the answer.
"The first is Salazar Slytherin, who was founder of Hogwarts, as well as the founder of the Slytherin house at the school. The house symbol is a snake. And the other…" he trailed off, seeming to gather himself before continuing. "The other is V-Voldemort." He flinched when he said this.
Harry felt sick, knowing that he had something in common with his parents' murderer. Everyone looked uncomfortable, the previously comfortable atmosphere gone. Harry was looking at the ground, afraid to see mistrustful, or worse, angry eyes. However, both Luna and Cedric, whom had been raised to get to know someone before making judgments about them, were only feeling sorry for Harry, knowing that it must make him feel bad to have to share such ability with his parents' murderer.
"I suggest that when we get to school, we don't tell anyone about this," Hermione said. They all nodded.
Hermione, determined to bring back the previous comfort, motioned for Cedric to continue reading, though she did continue thinking about it.
The keeper of the reptile house was in shock.
"But the glass," he kept saying, "where did the glass go?"
The zoo direction himself made Aunt Petunia a cup of strong, sweet tea while he apologized over and over again. Piers and Dudley could only gibber. As far as Harry had seen, the snake hadn't done anything except snap playfully at their heels as it passed, but by the time they were all back in Uncle Vernon's car, Dudley was telling them how it had nearly bitten off his leg, while Piers was swearing it had tried to squeeze him to death. But worst of all, for Harry at least, was Piers calming down enough to say, "Harry was talking to it, weren't you, Harry?"
"He just had to say that, didn't he?" Hermione said. Everyone else had gotten over the shock from earlier, all eager for the previous friendliness they had before the discovery. It hadn't really disappeared, though. It had just been put onto a backburner for a minute while everyone absorbed the information given.
Both Cedric and Luna had decided that it didn't matter that Harry could speak it; he was a good kid either way.
Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting on Harry. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed to say, "Go – cupboard – stay – no meals," before he collapsed into a chair, and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy.
"So you were sent to the cupboard and left unfed," Luna said, anger.
Harry lay in is dark cupboard much later, wishing he had a watch. He didn't know what time it was and he couldn't be sure the Dursleys were asleep yet. Until they were, he couldn't risk sneaking to the kitchen for some food.
"So your going to be pretty good at sneaking around," Cedric said.
He'd lived with the Dursleys almost ten years, ten miserable years, as long as he could remember, ever since he'd been a baby and his parents had died in that car crash. He couldn't remember being in the car when his parents had died. Sometimes, when he strained his memory during long hours in his cupboard, he came up with a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light and a burning pain on his forehead. This, he supposed, was the crash, though he couldn't imagine where all the green light came from. He couldn't remember his parents at all. His aunt and uncle never spoke about them, and of course he as forbidden to ask questions. There were no photographs of them in the house.
Hermione sighed, shaking her head. She couldn't even imagine not knowing her parents.
When he had been younger, Harry had dreamed and dreamed of some unknown relation coming to take him away, but it had never happened; the Dursleys were his only family. Yet sometimes he thought (or maybe hoped) that strangers on the street seemed to know him. Very strange strangers they were, too. A tiny man in a violet top hat had bowed to him once while out shopping with Aunt Petunia and Dudley. After asking Harry furiously if he knew the man, Aunt Petunia had rushed them out of the shop without buying anything. A wild-looking old woman dressed all in green had waved merrily at him once on a bus. A bald man in a very long purple coat had actually shaken his hand in the street the other day and then walked away without a word. The weirdest thing about all these people was the way they seemed to vanish the second Harry tried to get a closer look.
"Sound like they're not only fans, but that they disapparated away," Cedric said. "That's how older witches and wizards get around when they don't use brooms, the floo, or have any children with them," he added when he noticed the strange looks he was being given. "You have to be seventeen to do it, though."
"Well, it's not very nice. They're going to drive him mad if they continue to do that," Hermione said.
At school, Harry had no one. Everybody knew that Dudley's gang hated that odd Harry Potter in his baggy old clothes and broken glasses, and nobody liked to disagree with Dudley's gang.
"That's it for this chapter," Cedric said.
"I really wish I was at the same school as you. I wouldn't let them scare me from getting to know you. And, if they even tried to hit me or get me into trouble, it wouldn't work. I bruise rather easily, and would show that bruise to the faculty if they hit me, and teachers tend to like me too much to believe others. It can be a really useful tool to use," Hermione said, a bit cheekily.
"Why is that?" Harry asked.
"I'm top of the class. None of them want to loose their star pupil to suspension or expulsion. I'm the only one who seemed to be listening and learning anything, as none of the other students do as good as I do." She shrugged, leaving out that it was also a bit lonely, and how she could use a friend just as much as he needed one.
Cedric, however, seemed to hear her unspoken words. He knew how that was, having seen it happen in Hogwarts; a single student being singled out for some reason. He knew that, if she was just as smart while at Hogwarts as she seemed to be out of it, she would most likely have trouble making friends as well.
No she won't he suddenly thought. He was already considering her as a friend, as he considered Harry as one as well. He was already friends with Luna – their relationship was actually more brother/sister though.
"Whose reading next?" he asked, noticing that Harry was about to ask why Hermione would want him as a friend. Hermione sent him a thankful glance.
"Why don't I read next? Then Harry, and back to Hermione, so that it'll go in a circle," Luna said, reaching for the book. Cedric handed it to her.