"
"What don't you understand, popkin?" asked P e tunia looking up at her son.
Dudley raised a large, hamlike hand to point at Harry.
"Why isn't he coming with us?
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia froze when they stood staring at Dudley as though he had just e x
pressed a desire to become a ball e rina.
"What?" said Uncle Vernon loudly.
"Why isn't he coming too?" asked Du d ley.
"Well, heЧ doesn't want to," said Uncle Vernon, turning to glare at Harry and ad d
ing, "You don't want to, do you?"
"Not in the slightest," said Harry.
"There you are," Uncle Vernon told Dudley. "Now come on we're off."
He marched out of the room. They heard the front door open, but Dudley did not move and after a few faltering steps Aunt P e
tunia stopped too.
"What now?" barked Uncle Vernon, reappearing in the doorway.
It seemed that Dudley was struggling with co n
cepts too difficult to put into words. After several moments of apparently painful i n
ternal struggle he said, "But where's he g o ing to go?"
Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon looked at each other. It was clear that Dudley was frightening them. Hestia Jones broke the s i
lence.
"But… surely you know where your nephew is going?" she asked looking bewi l dered.
"Certainly we know," said Vernon Dursley. "He's off with some of your lot, isn't he? Right, Du d
ley, let's get in the car, you heard the man, we're in a hurry.
Again, Vernon Dursley marched as far as the front door, but Dudley did not follow.
"Off with some of our lot?"
Hestia looked outraged. Harry had met this att i
tude before Witches and wizards seemed stunned that his closed living relatives took so little interest in the famous Harry Po t
ter.
"It's fine," Harry assured her. "It doesn't matter, honestly."
"Doesn't matter?" repeated Hestia, her voice ri s ing considerably.
"Don't these people realize what you've been through? What danger you are in? The unique pos i
tion you hold in the hearts of the anti Voldemort movement?"
"Er Ц no, they don't," said Harry. "They think I'm a waste of space, actually but I'm used to Ц "
"I don't think you're a waste of space"
If Harry had not seen Dudley's lips move, he might not have
believed it. As it was, he stared at Dudley for several seconds before accepting that it must have been his cousin who had spoken; for one thing, Dudley had turned red. Harry was embarrassed and astonished himself.
"Well... er… thanks, Dudley."
Again, Dudley appeared to grapple with thoughts too unwieldy for expression before mu m bling, "You saved my life,"

"Not really," said Harry. "It was your soul the dementor would have taken…"
He looked curiously at his cousin. They had had virtually no contact during
this summer or last, as Harry had come back to Privet Drive so briefly and kept to his room so much. It now dawned on Harry, however, that the cup of cold tea on which he had trodden that morning might not have been a booby trap at all. Although rather to
uched he was neverth e less quite relieved that Dudley appeared to have e
x hausted his ability to express his feelings. After ope
n ing his mouth once or twice more, Dudley subsided into scarlet-faced silence.
Aunt Petunia burst into tears. Hestia Jones gave her an approving look that changed to outrage as Aunt Petunia ran forward and e m
braced Dudley rather than Harry. "S-so sweet, Dudders…" she sobbed into his massive chest. "S-such a lovely b-boy… s-saying thank you…"
"But he hasn't said thank you at all!" said Hestia indignantly. "He only said he di d
n't think Harry was a waste of space!"
"Yea but coming from Dudley that's like 'I love you,'" said Harry, torn between annoyance and a d e
sire to laugh as Aunt Petunia co n tinued to clutch at Dudley as if he had just saved Harry from a burning building.

"Are we going or not?" roared Uncle Vernon, r e
appearing yet again at the living room door. "I thought we were on a tight sche d ule!"
"Yes Ц yes, we are," said Dedalus Diggle, who had been watching these exchanged with an air of bemusement and now seemed to pull himself together. "We really must be off. Harry Ц "
He tripped forward and wrung Harry's hand with both of his own.
"Ч good luck. I hope we meet again. The hopes of the Wizarding world rest upon your shou l ders."
"Oh," said Harry, "right. Thanks."
"Farwell, Harry," said Hestia also clasping his hand. "Our thoughts go with you."
"I hope everything's okay," said Harry with a glance toward Aunt Petunia and Du d
ley.
"Oh I'm sure we shall end up the best of chums," said Diggle slightly, waving his hat as he left the room. Hestia followed him.
Dudley gently released himself from his mother's clutches and walked toward Harry who had to repress an urge to threaten him with magic. Then Dudley held out his large, pink hand.
"Blimey, Dudley," said Harry over Aunt Pet u nia's renewed sobs, "did the dementors blow a diffe
r ent personality into you?"
"Dunno," muttered Dudley, "See you, Harry."
"Yea …" said Harry, raking Dudley's hand and shaking it. "Maybe. Take care, Big D."
Dudley nearly smiled. They lumbered from the room. Harry heard his heavy footfalls on the gra v
eled drive, and then a car door slammed.
Aunt Petunia whose face had been buried in her handkerchief looked around at the sound. She did not seem to have expected to find herself alone with Harry. Hastily stowing her wet han d
kerchief into her pocket, she said, "Well Ц good-bye" and marched t o
wards the door without loo k ing at him.
"Good-bye" said Harry.
She stopped and looked back. For a moment Harry had the strangest feeling th
at she wanted to say something to him; She gave him an odd, tremulous look and seemed to teeter on the edge of speech, but then, with a little of her head, she hustled out of the room after he hu
s band and son.

Chapter Four The Seven Po
t ters

Harry ran back upstairs to his bedroom, arriving at the window just in time to see the Dursleys' car swinging out of the drive and off up the road. Ded a
lusТ s top hat was visible b e
tween Aunt Petunia and Dudley in the backseat. The car turned right at the end of Privet Drive, its windows burned scarlet for a m o
ment in the now setting sun, and then it was gone.
Harry picked up HedwigТ s cage, his Firebolt, and his rucksack, gave his unnat u
rally tidy bedroom one last sweeping look, and then made his ungainly way back dow n sta
irs to the hall, where he deposited cage, broomstick, and bag near the foot of the stairs. The light was fa d
ing rapidly, the hall full of shadows in the ev e
ning light. It felt most strange to stand here in the silence and know that he was about to leave the house for the last time. Long ago, when he had been left alone while the Dursleys went out to enjoy the
m selves, the hours of solitude had been a rare treat. Pausing only to sneak som
e thing tasty from the fridge, he had rushed upstairs to play on DudleyТ s
computer, or put on the television and flicked through the channels to his heartТ s content. It gave him an odd, empty feeling remembering those times; it was like remembering a younger brother whom he had lost.
“DonТ t you want to take a last look at the place?”
he asked Hedwig, who was still sulking with her head under her wing. “WeТ ll never be here again. DonТ t you want to remember all the good times? I mean, look at this doormat. What memories … Du
d ley sobbed on it after I saved him from the d e
mentors … Turns out he was grateful after all, can you believe it? … And last summer, Dumbledore walked through that front door … “
Harry lost the thread of his thoughts for a moment and Hedwig did nothing to help him retrieve it, but continued to sit with her head under her wing. Harry turned his back on the front door.
“And under here, Hedwig” Ц Harry pulled open a door under the stairs Ц “is where I used to sleep! You never knew me then Ц Bl i
mey, itТ s small, IТ d forgotten … “
Harry looked around at the stacked shoes and umbrellas remembering how he used to wake every morning looking up at the unde r
side of the staircase, which was more often than not adorned with a spider or two. Those had been the days before he had known anything about his true identity; before h
e had found out how his parents had died or why such strange things often happened around him. But Harry could still remember the dreams that had do g
ged him, even in those days: confused dreams involving flashes of green light and once Ц U n
cle Vernon had nearly crashed the car when Harry had r e
counted it Ц a flying motorbike …
There was a sudden, deafening roar from som e
where nearby. Harry straightened up with a jerk and smacked the top of his head on the low door frame. Pausing only to e m
ploy a few of Uncle VernonТ s choicest swear words, he sta g
gered back into the kitchen, clutching his head and staring out of the wi n
dow into the back ga r den.
The darkness seemed to be rippling, the air i t self quivering. Then, one by one, fi
g ures began to pop into sight as their Disillusionment Charms lifted. Domina
t ing the scene was Hagrid, wearing a helmet and go
g gles and sitting astride an enormous moto r
bike with a black sidecar attached. All around him other people were dismounting from brooms and, in two cases, skeletal, black winged horses.
Wrenching open the back door, Harry hurtled into their midst. There was a general cry of greeting as Hermione flung her arms around him, Ron clapped him on the back, and Hagrid said, “All righТ , Harry? Ready fer the off?
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