"Well, that so sounds like a wonderful way to start a book," said Hermione, rolling her eyes.
"Well, seems that, just like the first book, we're starting with your summer to talk about," Luna said, frowning as she had no desire to hear about his relatives again.
Not for the first time, an argument had broken out over breakfast at number four, Privet Drive. Mr Vernon Dursley had been woken in the early hours of the morning by a loud, hooting noise from his nephew Harry's room.
"Why would he be kept away from a hooting noise?" said Cedric. Hermione's face pinched as a thought went through her mind. I really hope I'm wrong about that.
"Third time this week!" he roared across the table. "If you can't control that owl, it'll have to go!"
"Why would you need to control your owl? They're supposed to be free spirits," said Luna.
Harry tried, yet again, to explain.
"She's bored," he said. "She's used to flying around outside. If I could just let her out at night ..."
"They locked her up," Luna screeched. "Then they deserve any discomfort that she can give them."
"Do I look stupid?" snarled Uncle Vernon, a bit of fried egg dan gling from his bushy moustache.
"Is that a trick question?" asked Hermione.
"I know what'll happen if that owl's let out."
"Yeah, she eat, stretch her wings, and probably go to the bathroom," said Luna. "And, should Harry decide to write to his friends as he probably wants to do, then she'll carry letters to them when needed."
"I think it's that last part that's the reason why they don't want her to go out," said Hermione, frowning.
"Yeah, Harry might decide to invite his friends over, of the horror," stated Cedric.
"To them, it would be bad," said Harry.
"Then we not only need to make sure it happens, but that they can't do anything to you after we leave," Hermione said with a smile. "And, even if we can't get our letters to you, or you can't get letters to us, we will make sure that this will happen."
He exchanged dark looks with his wife, Petunia.
Harry tried to argue back but his words were drowned by a long, loud belch from the Dursleys' son, Dudley.
"I want more bacon."
"How horrible," sniffed Hermione. Not only did he not excuse himself, but he expected to be fed more. Hermione wondered if he had grown even more, or if the school had actually done it's job and at least forced him to work off the poundage he already had on.
"There's more in the frying pan, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia, turning misty eyes on her massive son. "We must feed you up while we've got the chance ... I don't like the sound of that school food ..."
"Why do I get the feeling that she's delusional?" said Cedric.
"Because if the school didn't force him to lose weight, and kept feeding him, then he'll more likely have grown up even more than he already has," said Hermione.
"Nonsense, Petunia, I never went hungry when I was at Smeltings," said Uncle Vernon heartily.
"Well, that must mean that Dudley's gotten even bigger right there, doesn't it?" said Luna.
"Dudley gets enough, don't you, son?"
"I wonder what Uncle Vernon would do if Dudley said that he wasn't getting fed enough," said Harry.
"From what we know of your Uncle from the first book, I have the feeling he'd complain so much that your cousin would probably get thrown out of school," said Hermione.
"Actually, from the way Dudley sounds, if isn't given enough, he probably takes food from the other children. I mean, I heard that, in Muggle schools, you get a set amount of food to eat at mealtimes," said Cedric.
"That's true," said Harry. "And Dudley sort of already does that, now that I think about it. He just doesn't do it a whole lot since, along with money, Aunt Petunia usually packs him a large lunch."
Dudley, who was so large his bottom drooped over either side of the kitchen chair, grinned and turned to Harry.
"I hope Dudley doesn't think he'll actually get a worthwhile girl if he continues on his whole eating whatever he could get his hands on run," said Luna. "I might not speak for all girls, but I can tell you right now that I don't see anyone with a brain going for him."
"Pass the frying pan."
"He forgot the magic word," said Hermione.
"You've forgotten the magic word," said Harry irritably.
"Seems like you and Hermione think alike," Cedric said. Luna, however, had gone pale, something Harry had noticed.
"What?" he asked.
"You said magic," she said. It was all she needed to say for him, as he got the hint quite well, going pale like her. Hermione and Cedric were looking quite lost until they thought about it, going pale as well when they figured it out.
"Maybe it's not a good thing for you to think like I do," said Hermione.
The effect of this simple sentence on the rest of the family was incredible: Dudley gasped and fell off his chair with a crash that shook the whole kitchen;
"I wonder how far the after effects went for," Hermione said thoughtfully.
Mrs. Dursley gave a small scream and clapped her hands to her mouth;
"You'd think you just said something bad," said Cedric.
"To them, I did," Harry said.
Mr. Dursley jumped to his feet, veins throbbing in his temples.
"He even thinks about raising a fist against you, and he will regret it," said Luna fiercely.
"I meant 'please'!" said Harry quickly. "I didn't mean –"
"WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU," thundered his uncle, spraying spit over the table, "ABOUT SAYING THE M WORD IN OUR HOUSE?"
"My god. I wonder what would happen if someone was visiting and mentioned Magic in the household. There's no way they can be considered normal to others from that overreaction," said Hermione.
"They propably think that only freaks would ever use that word," Cedric said, a sneer on his face.
"True," Hermione said.
"But I –"
"HOW DARE YOU THREATEN DUDLEY!" roared Uncle Vernon, pounding the table with his fist.
"He did not threaten the pig!" Cedric said. "If he was threatening the pig, he'd say he was going to finish the job that Hagrid started. Now there would be a threat."
"I just –"
"I WARNED YOU! I WILL NOT TOLERATE MENTION OF YOUR ABNORMALITY UNDER THIS ROOF!"
"Someone needs to torture them by saying abnormal things around them at all times. However, we've also got to make sure that it can't be traced back to Harry," whispered Cedric to Hermione, who nodded her head.
Harry stared from his purple-faced uncle to his pale aunt, who was trying to heave Dudley to his feet.
"And probably failing miserably," said Luna.
"All right," said Harry, "all right..."
"You shouldn't have to make concessions because they can't handle a single word without overreacting," said Hermione.
Uncle Vernon sat back down, breathing like a winded rhinoceros and watching Harry closely out of the corners of his small, sharp eyes.
"What, does he think I'm a bomb?" asked Harry rhetorically.
Ever since Harry had come home for the summer holidays, Uncle Vernon had been treating him like a bomb that might go off at any moment,.
"Apparently, yes," said Luna.
because Harry wasn't a normal boy.
"I do believe that Harry is very normal," said Luna. "It's the Dursleys who are not normal."
"I think it's the fact he's a wizard. That wouldn't be considered normal in the Muggle world," explained Hermione.
As a matter of fact, he was as not normal as it is possible to be.
Harry Potter was a wizard – a wizard fresh from his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
"Looks like Hermione was right about that fact," said Cedric.
And if the Dursleys were unhappy to have him back for the holidays, it was nothing to how Harry felt.
"It would be absolutely horrible," said Harry.
He missed Hogwarts so much it was like having a constant stomach ache.
Cedric frowned. While it was true he tended to miss Hogwarts, he didn't feel sick over the fact. Harry really should have to feel that way, either.
He missed the castle, with its secret passageways and ghosts, his lessons (though perhaps not Snape, the Potions master),
"Aw, come on, Harry, how can you not miss your favourite teacher?" said Hermione sarcastically.
"I don't know, Hermione, I really don't," answered Harry back, just as sarcastic.
the post arriving by owl, eating banquets in the Great Hall, sleeping in his four-poster bed in the tower dormitory, visit ing the gamekeeper, Hagrid, in his cabin in the grounds next to the Forbidden Forest and, especially, Quidditch, the most popular sport in the wizarding world (six tall goalposts, four flying balls and fourteen players on broomsticks).
"Of course you would miss the sport," Hermione muttered under her breath. "What about Ron and I? Don't you miss us?"
"I'm sure I do," Harry said, though he had to wonder why it didn't mention his friends.
All Harry's spellbooks, his wand, robes, cauldron and top-of-the-range Nimbus Two Thousand broomstick had been locked in a cupboard under the stairs by Uncle Vernon the instant Harry had come home.
"Well, while that's not exactly a good thing – I mean, you do have schoolwork to do – at least they didn't lock you under there," said Cedric.
What did the Dursleys care if Harry lost his place in the house Quidditch team because he hadn't practised all summer?
"You wouldn't be able to practice anyways, as you can't fly your broom around," said Luna.
"And I don't think you'll be losing your spot on the team anyways. I don't think Wood would allow it," said Cedric. "Plus, it's not really like you need the instruction – you were a natural on the broom, remember?"
What was it to the Dursleys if Harry went back to school without any of his homework done?
"Now that, I will admit, is a problem," said Cedric.
"Especially since Snape would happily give me detention for not having my work done," said Harry.
"Yeah, he's the only teacher who would probably not listen to any excuse you say, though I'm not sure Professor McGonagall would, either," said Hermione.
The Dursleys were what wizards called Muggles (not a drop of magical blood in their veins) and as far as they were concerned, having a wizard in the family was a matter of deepest shame.
'I think that being related to any of the three is a matter of deepest shame. You are a saint for putting up with them," said Hermione. "I know that, if they were in my family, they would have been disowned for their appalling behaviour."
Uncle Vernon had even padlocked Harry's owl, Hedwig, inside her cage, to stop her carrying mes sages to anyone in the wizarding world.
"Knew it," muttered Hermione.
Harry looked nothing like the rest of the family.
"Thankfully," said Harry.
Uncle Vernon was large and neckless, with an enormous black moustache; Aunt Petunia was horse-faced and bony; Dudley was blond, pink and porky.
Sounds like perfect descriptions," said Hermione.
Harry, on the other hand, was small and skinny, with bril liant green eyes and jet-black hair that was always untidy. He wore round glasses, and on his forehead was a thin, lightning-shaped scar.
"I get the feeing that we're going to be given a run down of Harry's past," said Luna.
"Perhaps we should read through it quickly than," Hermione said.
"If we can without commenting," said Harry.
"We should at least try," said Cedric, looking down at the book in his hand, ready to begin the recap.
It was this scar that made Harry so particularly unusual, even for a wizard. This scar was the only hint of Harry's very mysterious past, of the reason he had been left on the Dursleys' doorstep eleven years before.
At the age of one, Harry had somehow survived a curse from the greatest dark sorcerer of all time, Lord Voldemort, whose name most witches and wizards still feared to speak. Harry's parents had died in Voldemort's attack, but Harry had escaped with his lightning scar, and somehow – nobody understood why – Voldemort's powers had been destroyed the instant he had failed to kill Harry.
So Harry had been brought up by his dead mother's sister and her husband. He had spent ten years with the Dursleys, never understanding why he kept making odd things happen without meaning to, believing the Dursleys' story that he had got his scar in the car crash which had killed his parents.
And then, exactly a year ago, Hogwarts had written to Harry, and the whole story had come out. Harry had taken up his place at wizard school, where he and his scar were famous ... but now the school year was over, and he was back with the Dursleys for the summer, back to being treated like a dog that had rolled in something smelly.
"Why do they confuse you with themselves?" asked Luna.
"I don't know," said Harry, amused.
The Dursleys hadn't even remembered that today happened to be Harry's twelfth birthday.
"Well, hopefully, by this time next year, you won't be there, there will be no need to bother waiting to see of they remember it or not," said Hermione.
Of course, his hopes hadn't been high; they'd never given him a proper present, let alone a cake – but to ignore it completely ...
"So, before, they didn't ignore it?" asked Luna.
"No, they didn't. They did acknowledge it," said Harry. Hermione wondered exactly how they acknowledged it.
At that moment, Uncle Vernon cleared his throat importantly and said, "Now, as we all know, today is a very important day."
"Okay, that's out of the blue," said Hermione. "Is he acknowledging Harry's birthday as important?"
"Somehow, I don't think so," Luna said sadly. "In fact, I think he's purposely being cruel in saying it like that."
Harry looked up, hardly daring to believe it.
"This could well be the day I make the biggest deal of my career," said Uncle Vernon.
"I hope he doesn't get it," said Hermione vindictively. "Anyone who thinks a business deal is more important than a relative's birthday – especially one who lives with you – deserves all the bad luck he can get."
"But he'll just blame it on me," Harry said.
"Oh, right," Hermione said, having forgotten about that. "What about when your not there? Can they blame you if your not there?"
"They'll probably try to," said Harry.
"Which would probably make them look deranged…" said Hermione, thinking.
Harry went back to his toast. Of course, he thought bitterly, Uncle Vernon was talking about the stupid dinner party.
"Your not going to be invited, are you?" Hermione said, already knowing the answer. It would make sense as to why he seemed a bit bitter about the knowledge.
He'd been talking of nothing else for a fortnight.
"Oh, god, that's going be extremely annoying," said Harry.
Some rich builder and his wife were coming to dinner and Uncle Vernon was hoping to get a huge order from him (Uncle Vernon's company made drills).
"Well, I think we know why your not invited," said Hermione. "Not only would it be 'too fun' for you, but anyone with eyes would be able to see that your not treated well, and anyone with a heart would let them get away with it, much less make a deal with the abusers."
"I think we should run through the schedule one more time," said Uncle Vernon.
"They schedule what they're going to do," said Hermione. "They don't do anything spontaneous."
"Why do you sound so surprised? It was clear from the first book the kind of people they are," said Cedric.
"I know, I just didn't think their insanity went that far," said Hermione.
"We should all be in position at eight o'clock. Petunia, you will be –?"
"In the lounge," said Aunt Petunia promptly, "waiting to wel come them graciously to our home."
"Good, good. And Dudley?"
"I'll be waiting to open the door." Dudley put on a foul, simper ing smile. "May I take your coats, Mr. and Mrs. Mason?"
"I wouldn't want him touching my coat," said Hermione.
"They'll love him!" cried Aunt Petunia rapturously.
"They'll be mental if they do," said Cedric.
"Excellent, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon. Then he rounded on Harry. "And you?"
"I'm almost afraid to know what they'll be having you do," said Luna.
"I'll be in my bedroom, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," said Harry tonelessly.
"I guess that's not too bad," said Harry.
"Harry, no one should have to act like they don't exist, especially on their birthday," said Hermione.
"Exactly," said Uncle Vernon nastily. "I will lead them into the lounge, introduce you, Petunia, and pour them drinks. At eight fifteen –"
"I'll announce dinner," said Aunt Petunia.
"And Dudley, you'll say –"
"May I take you through to the dining room, Mrs. Mason?" said Dudley, offering his fat arm to an invisible woman.
"I wouldn't touch him with a fifty foot pole," said Luna.
"I wonder if Dudley's atrocious manners will scare these Masons away," Cedric said.
"My perfect little gentleman!" sniffed Aunt Petunia.
"My god, that woman is delusional," said Hermione.
"And you?" said Uncle Vernon viciously to Harry.
"I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," said Harry dully.
"Precisely. Now, we should aim to get in a few good compliments at dinner. Petunia, any ideas?"
"I do hope that these people are smart enough to know that they're being played," Hermione said.
"Vernon tells me you're a wonderful golfer, Mr. Mason ... Do tell me where you bought your dress, Mrs. Mason ..."
"My parents would see through that in a minute," said Hermione. "And I know my father wouldn't want to do business with such fake people."
"Perfect ... Dudley?"
"How about: 'We had to write an essay about our hero at school, Mr. Mason, and I wrote about you.' "
"Oh god, that's a stupid thing to say. After all, those types of essays have to be about very well known people, and I'm sure Dudley did not know who Mr. Mason was before this," said Hermione.
This was too much for both Aunt Petunia and Harry. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and hugged her son, while Harry ducked under the table so they wouldn't see him laughing.
"At least your able to see something humorous about it," said Cedric.
"And you, boy?"
Harry fought to keep his face straight as he emerged.
"I hope you succeed," said Luna.
"I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," he said.
"Too right you will," said Uncle Vernon forcefully. "The Masons don't know anything about you and it's going to stay that way."
"You know, I wish we could do magic outside of school, so we could make it so that the Masons did know, by making memories about a friend of Harry's being their grandchild or something," Hermione said. "I would like to see how the Dursleys would act to that news, especially if they stuck their foot into their mouths by insulting said child because of the fact that they were magical."
"When dinner's over, you take Mrs Mason back to the lounge for coffee, Petunia, and I'll bring the subject round to drills. With any luck, I'll have the deal signed and sealed before the NewsatTen. We'll be shopping for a holiday home in Majorca this time tomor row."
Harry couldn't feel too excited about this. He didn't think the Dursleys would like him any better in Majorca than they did in Privet Drive.
"Somehow, I don't think they'd let you go to begin with," said Hermione.
"True. They would probably lock me in the house while they were gone," said Harry.
"Right – I'm off into town to pick up the dinner jackets for Dudley and me. And you"' he snarled at Harry, "you stay out of your aunt's way while she's cleaning."
"At least I'm not being forced to clean," said Harry.
"Why do I get the feeling that that's not going to last, though?" asked Cedric.
Harry left through the back door. It was a brilliant, sunny day. He crossed the lawn, slumped down on the garden bench and sang under his breath, "Happy birthday to me ... happy birthday to me ..."
"You know, I've got to wonder why he hasn't gotten anything from me and Ron," said Hermione. "I mean, I know that I don't have an owl, but I would have sent something to him by Muggle mail for his birthday. Or I would have sent it to Ron to send to you, as he does have an owl."
"Now that you mention it, why hasn't it mentioned anything about you and Ron sending him anything over the summer?" asked Luna.
No cards, no presents,
"Why hasn't he gotten anything?" Hermione asked quietly, feeling very bad. Did she not send him anything? The thought was enough to fill her eyes with tears. How could she not send him anything?
and he would be spending the evening pretending not to exist. He gazed miserably into the hedge. He had never felt so lonely. More than anything else at Hogwarts, more even than playing Quidditch, Harry missed his best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. They, however, didn't seem to be missing him at all. Neither of them had written to him all summer, even though Ron had said he was going to ask Harry to come and stay.
"But, there's no way I would write," Hermione cried, trying hard to keep tears from falling. She knew what it was like not to have any friends, knew well enough that she wasn't going to risk losing any friends she had/would have. She had promised Harry she would write, and she was sure that she did, so why hasn't he gotten anything?
Neither Cedric or Luna were mad at Hermione, also knowing that she would write – she didn't seem the type not to keep in contact with friends – and were both curious as to what was going on.
Harry, noticing Hermione's water-filled eyes, was also sure that she would write, which meant that something was happening to his mail.
"Do you guys think that whatever it was that kept me from getting the fan mail you said people sent me might be keeping me from getting mail from my friends?" asked Harry as he stood up and walked over to Hermione, nervously patting her on the shoulder, trying to comfort her. She gave him a watery smile, knowing that he didn't think that she didn't write to him.
Countless times, Harry had been on the point of unlocking Hedwig's cage by magic and sending her to Ron and Hermione with a letter, but it wasn't worth the risk.
"Yeah, that's rather true. I'd rather not get into trouble with the Ministry," said Harry.
Underage wizards weren't allowed to use magic outside school. Harry hadn't told the Dursleys this; he knew it was only their terror that he might turn them all into dung beetles that stopped them locking him in the cupboard under the stairs with his wand and broomstick.
"Technically, if they did that, you could easily say that it was an emergency," said Cedric. "I mean, I doubt they would feed you if you were under there – or, rather, I don't think they would feed you enough that you would stay alive, which would count as an emergency."
For the first couple of weeks back, Harry had enjoyed muttering nonsense words under his breath and watching Dudley tearing out of the room as fast as his fat legs would carry him.
They laughed at the image that appeared in their mind at that.
But the long silence from Ron and Hermione had made Harry feel so cut off from the magical world that even taunting Dudley had lost its appeal – and now Ron and Hermione had forgotten his birthday.
I won't forget Harry's birthday, I won't thought Hermione fiercely.
What wouldn't he give now for a message from Hogwarts? From any witch or wizard?
"That definitely makes it sound as if there is a mail blocking ward up," said Cedric.
He'd almost be glad of a sight of his arch-enemy, Draco Malfoy, just to be sure it hadn't all been a dream ...
They all winced at that – Harry had also finally returned to his seat as Hermione's eyes cleared up. Things must be bad if Harry wanted to see Malfoy of all people.
Not that his whole year at Hogwarts had been fun.
"I guess this is the first year recap," said Hermione.
At the very end of last term, Harry had come face to face with none other than Lord Voldemort himself. Voldemort might be a ruin of his former self, but he was still terrifying, still cunning, still deter mined to regain power. Harry had slipped through Voldemort's clutches for a second time, but it had been a narrow escape, and even now, weeks later, Harry kept waking in the night, drenched in cold sweat, wondering where Voldemort was now, remember ing his livid face, his wide, mad eyes ...
"Great, nightmares," groaned Harry. Like he needed more.
Harry suddenly sat bolt upright on the garden bench. He had been staring absent-mindedly into the hedge – and the hedge was staring back.
"Wait, what?" said Harry. "Those hedges don't stare back. I should know, I look at them enough times."
Two enormous green eyes had appeared among the leaves.
If I didn't know better, I'd say that a house-elf was there thought Cedric. It was the only thing he could think of that had enormous eyes that would be noticeable among hedge leaves.
Harry jumped to his feet just as a jeering voice floated across the lawn.
"Great, what does the pig want now," said Luna.
"I know what day it is," sang Dudley, waddling towards him.
"So he's learned the days of the week. Wow," said Hermione.
The huge eyes blinked and vanished.
"What?" said Harry, not taking his eyes off the spot where they had been.
"I know what day it is," Dudley repeated, coming right up to him.
"Well done," said Harry. "So you've finally learned the days of the week."
"Again, Hermione, you and Harry seem to think the same things," said Cedric.
"Today's your birthday," sneered Dudley.
"If he even thinks about making fun of the fact that something's up with the mailing systems…" threatened Hermione.
"How come you haven't got any cards? Haven't you even got friends at that freak place?"
"Yes he does, more friends than you do, in fact," said Cedric.
"Dudley has friends," said Harry, a bit confused.
"Not real ones. Those in his little gang are not real friends. A boy like him wouldn't have real friends," said Luna.
"Better not let your mum hear you talking about my school," said Harry coolly.
Dudley hitched up his trousers, which were slipping down his fat bottom.
"Why're you staring at the hedge?" he said suspiciously.
"I'm trying to decide what would be the best spell to set it on fire," said Harry.
"Ah, the perfect revenge for a magic phobia idiot like him," said Luna.
Dudley stumbled backwards at once, a look of panic on his fat face.
"You c-can't – Dad told you you're not to do m-magic – he said he'll chuck you out of the house"
"That would be a good thing, because then your parents would not only get in trouble – as Harry isn't even a teen but still a kid, the authorities probably wouldn't take to kindly, which would also lead to the way they treated you for the years beforehand…" said Hermione. "Oh, and you can come live with me."
"– and you haven't got anywhere else to go – you haven't got any friends to take you –"
"Like I said, you can come live with me," said Hermione. "Oh, and I think we should exchange phone numbers too, especially if that mail blocking ward thingy is going to be stopping us from communicating with each other." She didn't know why she didn't think about using the phone beforehand – in fact, she should have asked for his number before they even left the train.
"Jiggerypokery!" said Harry in a fierce voice. "Hocus pocus ... squiggly wiggly ..."
"Those aren't spells," Cedric and Luna said, while Hermione and Harry both laughed.
"That's what Muggles think is magic," said Hermione.
"Oh," Cedric said, while Luna, after thinking about it, laughed herself. Even Cedric was able to see the humour in it, and chuckled before turning back to the book.
"MUUUUUUM!" howled Dudley, tripping over his feet as he dashed back towards the house. "MUUUUM! He's doing you know what!"
"Oh, poor baby," said Luna.
Harry paid dearly for his moment of fun.
That sentence killed the light mood rather quickly.
As neither Dudley nor the hedge was in any way hurt, Aunt Petunia knew he hadn't really done magic, but he still had to duck as she aimed a heavy blow at his head with the soapy frying pan.
"Okay, that's it, your family is not going to enjoy life much longer," said Hermione. It was one thing to starve and neglect a child, but to actually try and hit him in the head with something that could cause serious harm, well, that was a whole other can or worms. The Dursleys were going to find out rather quickly that you don't attempt to hurt a friend of Hermione's.
Then she gave him work to do, with the promise he wouldn't eat again until he'd finished.
Hermione's fists clenched, and, for the first time that day, the sound of glass breaking was heard.
"I forgot about those," said Cedric absently as he turned to look at the table the sound had come from.
While Dudley lolled around watching and eating ice-creams, Harry cleaned the windows, washed the car, mowed the lawn, trimmed the flowerbeds, pruned and watered the roses and re painted the garden bench.
"So, basically, he did mindless, probably not needed things, while her fat pig of a son got to make fun of him," Luna hissed. "You know what, Harry, forget about coming to any of our houses, we're going to yours on your birthday that year. In fact, I think we'll time it so that they can't deny you exist, and make sure they can't tell lies about you, either."
Harry looked at her, wide-eyed. Was she trying to get him into trouble? He knew that his aunt and uncle wouldn't take too kindly to what Luna was planning.
"Oh, don't worry, Harry. If they even try to discipline you, I'll contact that wizarding authorities. I know for a fact that they wouldn't take to kindly to the way you're treated there if they were called," she added.
The sun blazed overhead, burning the back of his neck. Harry knew he shouldn't have risen to Dudley's bait, but Dudley had said the very thing Harry had been thinking himself ... maybe he didn't have any friends at Hogwarts ...
"You do," Cedric said, before this subject could come up again.
Wish they could see famous Harry Potter now, he thought savagely, as he spread manure on the flowerbeds, his back aching, sweat running down his face.
"Well, I can honestly say that if they saw you, then they would immediately dispel all thought of you being a pampered prince," said Cedric.
It was half past seven in the evening when at last, exhausted, he heard Aunt Petunia calling him.
"Get in here! And walk on the newspaper!"
Harry moved gladly into the shade of the gleaming kitchen. On top of the fridge stood tonight's pudding: a huge mound of whipped cream and sugared violets. A joint of roast pork was sizzling in the oven.
"You're not going to get any of that, are you?" asked Hermione. Harry shook his head, knowing better than to even think he would.
"Eat quickly! The Masons will be here soon!" snapped Aunt Petunia, pointing to two slices of bread and a lump of cheese on the kitchen table. She was already wearing a salmon-pink cocktail dress.
Harry scrunched up his nose – his aunt looked horrible in any type of pink.
"I take it pink isn't your aunt's colour," Luna said. He nodded.
Harry washed his hands and bolted down his pitiful supper. The moment he had finished, Aunt Petunia whisked away his plate. "Upstairs! Hurry!"
"I'd say go slow so that the Mason's would see you, but I don't think it would be a good idea," Cedric sighed.
As he passed the door to the living room, Harry caught a glimpse of Uncle Vernon and Dudley in bow-ties and dinner jackets. He had only just reached the upstairs landing when the doorbell rang and Uncle Vernon's furious face appeared at the foot of the stairs.
"Remember, boy – one sound ..."
"He does anything, and he'll be the one in trouble. Just because you're learning to control your magic doesn't mean that bouts of accidental magic can't still occur, especially if you get to extreme emotions," Cedric said. "It takes a few years of training to keep something like that from happening. It's part of the reason why we have to go through seven years of schooling."
Harry crossed to his bedroom on tiptoe, slipped inside, closed the door and turned to collapse on his bed.
The trouble was, there was already someone sitting on it.
"Okay, who snuck into his bed," asked Hermione.
"I don't know. That was the end of the chapter," said Cedric.
"My turn, then," said Luna, taking the book from him and turning the page.