"What?" said Harry blankly.

"He left!" said Mrs. Figg, wringing her hands. "Left to seesomeone about a batch of cauldrons that fell off the back ofa broom! I told him I'd flay him alive if he went, and nowlook! Dementors! It's just lucky I put Mr. Tibbies on thecase! But we haven't got time to stand around! Hurry, now,we've got to get you back! Oh, the trouble this is going tocause! I will kill him!"

"But —"

The revelation that his batty old cat-obsessed neighborknew what dementors were was almost as big a shock toHarry as meeting two of them down the alleyway. "You're —you're a witch?"

"I'm a Squib, as Mundungus knows full well, so how onearth was I supposed to help you fight off dementors? Heleft you completely without cover when I warned him —""This bloke Mundungus has been following me? Hang on— it was him! He Disapparated from the front of my house!"

"Yes, yes, yes, but luckily I'd stationed Mr. Tibbies under acar just in case, and Mr. Tibbies came and warned me, butby the time I got to your house you'd gone — and now — oh,what's Dumbledore going to say? You!" she shrieked atDudley, still supine on the alley floor. "Get your fat bottomoff the ground, quick!"

"You know Dumbledore?" said Harry, staring at her.

"Of course I know Dumbledore, who doesn't knowDumbledore? But come on — I'll be no help if they comeback, I've never so much as Transfigured a teabag —"

She stooped down, seized one of Dudley's massive arms inher wizened hands, and tugged.

"Get up, you useless lump, get up!"

But Dudley either could not or would not move. He wasstill on the ground, trembling and ashen-faced, his mouthshut very tight.

"I'll do it." Harry took hold of Dudley's arm and heaved:With an enormous effort he managed to hoist Dudley to hisfeet. Dudley seemed to be on the point of fainting: His smalleyes were rolling in their sockets and sweat was beadinghis face; the moment Harry let go of him he swayeddangerously.

"Hurry up!" said Mrs. Figg hysterically.

Harry pulled one of Dudley's massive arms around hisown shoulders and dragged him toward the road, saggingslightly under his weight. Mrs. Figg tottered along in frontof them, peering anxiously around the corner.

"Keep your wand out," she told Harry, as they enteredWisteria Walk. "Never mind the Statute of Secrecy now,there's going to be hell to pay anyway, we might as well behanged for a dragon as an egg. Talk about the ReasonableRestriction of Underage Sorcery ... This was exactly whatDumbledore was afraid of — what's that at the end of thestreet? Oh, it's just Mr. Prentice. ... Don't put your wandaway, boy, don't I keep telling you I'm no use?" 

It was not easy to hold a wand steady and carry Dudleyalong at the same time. Harry gave his cousin an impatientdig in the ribs, but Dudley seemed to have lost all desire forindependent movement. He was slumped on Harry'sshoulder, his large feet dragging along the ground.

"Why didn't you tell me you're a Squib?" Harry askedMrs. Figg, panting with the effort to keep walking. "Allthose times I came round your house — why didn't you sayanything?"

"Dumbledore's orders. I was to keep an eye on you butnot say anything, you were too young. I'm sorry I gave yousuch a miserable time, but the Dursleys would never havelet you come if they'd thought you enjoyed it. It wasn't easy,you know. ... But oh my word," she said tragically, wringingher hands once more, "when Dumbledore hears about this— how could Mundungus have left, he was supposed to beon duty until midnight — where is he? How am I going totell Dumbledore what's happened, I can't Apparate —"

"I've got an owl, you can borrow her," Harry groaned,wondering whether his spine was going to snap underDudley's weight. 

"Harry, you don't understand! Dumbledore will need toact as quickly as possible, the Ministry have their own waysof detecting underage magic, they'll know already, youmark my words —"

"But I was getting rid of dementors, I had to use magic —they're going to be more worried what dementors weredoing floating around Wisteria Walk, surely?"

"Oh my dear, I wish it were so but I'm afraid —MUNDUNGUS FLETCHER, I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!"There was a loud crack and a strong smell of mingleddrink and stale tobacco filled the air as a squat, unshavenman in a tattered overcoat materialized right in front ofthem. He had short bandy legs, long straggly ginger hair,and bloodshot baggy eyes that gave him the doleful look ofa basset hound; he was also clutching a silvery bundle thatHarry recognized at once as an Invisibility Cloak.

" 'S' up, Figgy?" he said, staring from Mrs. Figg to Harryand Dudley. "What 'appened to staying undercover?"

"I'll give you undercover!" cried Mrs. Figg. "Dementors,you useless, skiving sneak thief!"

"Dementors?" repeated Mundungus, aghast. "Dementorshere?"

"Yes, here, you worthless pile of bat droppings, here!"shrieked Mrs. Figg. "Dementors attacking the boy on yourwatch!"

"Blimey," said Mundungus weakly, looking from Mrs. Figgto Harry and back again. "Blimey, I ..."

"And you off buying stolen cauldrons! Didn't I tell you notto go? Didn't I?"

"I — well, I —" Mundungus looked deeply uncomfortable."It ... it was a very good business opportunity, see ..."

 Mrs. Figg raised the arm from which her string bagdangled and whacked Mundungus around the face andneck with it; judging by the clanking noise it made it wasfull of cat food.

"Ouch — gerroff — gerroff, you mad old bat! Someone'sgotta tell Dumbledore!"

"Yes — they — have!" yelled Mrs. Figg, still swinging thebag of cat food at every bit of Mundungus she could reach."And — it — had — better — be — you — and — you — can— tell — him — why — you — weren't — there — to —help!""Keep your 'airnet on!" said Mundungus, his arms overhis head, cowering. "I'm going, I'm going!"

And with another loud crack, he vanished.

"I hope Dumbledore murders him!" said Mrs. Figgfuriously. "Now come on, Harry, what are you waiting for?"

Harry decided not to waste his remaining breath onpointing out that he could barely walk under Dudley's bulk.He gave the semiconscious Dudley a heave and staggeredonward.

"I'll take you to the door," said Mrs. Figg, as they turnedinto Privet Drive. "Just in case there are more of themaround. ... Oh my word, what a catastrophe ... and you hadto fight them off yourself ... and Dumbledore said we wereto keep you from doing magic at all costs. ... Well, it's nogood crying over spilled potion, I suppose ... but the cat'samong the pixies now ..."

"So," Harry panted, "Dumbledore's ... been having ... mefollowed?"

"Of course he has," said Mrs. Figg impatiently. "Did youexpect him to let you wander around on your own afterwhat happened in June? Good Lord, boy, they told me youwere intelligent. ... Right ... get inside and stay there," shesaid as they reached number four. "I expect someone willbe in touch with you soon enough."

"What are you going to do?" asked Harry quickly. 

"I'm going straight home," said Mrs. Figg, staring aroundthe dark street and shuddering. "I'll need to wait for moreinstructions. Just stay in the house. Good night."

"Hang on, don't go yet! I want to know —"

But Mrs. Figg had already set off at a trot, carpet slippersflopping, string bag clanking.

"Wait!" Harry shouted after her; he had a millionquestions to ask anyone who was in contact withDumbledore; but within seconds Mrs. Figg was swallowedby the darkness. Scowling, Harry readjusted Dudley on hisshoulder and made his slow, painful way up number four'sgarden path.

The hall light was on. Harry stuck his wand back insidethe waistband of his jeans, rang the bell, and watched AuntPetunia's outline grow larger and larger, oddly distorted bythe rippling glass in the front door.

"Diddy! About time too, I was getting quite — quite —Diddy, what's the matter?"

Harry looked sideways at Dudley and ducked out fromunder his arm just in time. Dudley swayed for a moment onthe spot, his face pale green, then he opened his mouth atlast and vomited all over the doormat.

"DIDDY! Diddy, what's the matter with you? Vernon?VERNON!"

Harry's uncle came galumphing out of the living room,walrus mustache blowing hither and thither as it always didwhen he was agitated. He hurried forward to help AuntPetunia negotiate a weak-kneed Dudley over the thresholdwhile avoiding stepping in the pool of sick.

"He's ill, Vernon!"

"What is it, son? What's happened? Did Mrs. Polkiss giveyou something foreign for tea?"

"Why are you all covered in dirt, darling? Have you beenlying on the ground?"

"Hang on — you haven't been mugged, have you, son?"

Aunt Petunia screamed.

"Phone the police, Vernon! Phone the police! Diddy,darling, speak to Mummy! What did they do to you?"

In all the kerfuffle, nobody seemed to have noticed Harry,which suited him perfectly. He managed to slip inside justbefore Uncle Vernon slammed the door and while theDursleys made their noisy progress down the hall towardthe kitchen, Harry moved carefully and quietly toward thestairs.

"Who did it, son? Give us names. We'll get them, don'tworry."

"Shh! He's trying to say something, Vernon! What is it,Diddy? Tell Mummy!"

Harry's foot was on the bottommost stair when Dudleyfound his voice. 

"Him."

Harry froze, foot on the stair, face screwed up, braced forthe explosion.

"BOY! COME HERE!"

With a feeling of mingled dread and anger, Harryremoved his foot slowly from the stair and turned to followthe Dursleys. 

The scrupulously clean kitchen had an oddly unreal glitterafter the darkness outside. Aunt Petunia was usheringDudley into a chair; he was still very green and clammylooking. Uncle Vernon was standing in front of the drainingboard, glaring at Harry through tiny, narrowed eyes.

"What have you done to my son?" he said in a menacinggrowl.

"Nothing," said Harry, knowing perfectly well that UncleVernon wouldn't believe him.

"What did he do to you, Diddy?" Aunt Petunia said in aquavering voice, now sponging sick from the front ofDudley's leather jacket. "Was it — was it you-know-what,darling? Did he use — his thing?" 

Slowly, tremulously, Dudley nodded.

"I didn't!" Harry said sharply, as Aunt Petunia let out awail and Uncle Vernon raised his fists. "I didn't do anythingto him, it wasn't me, it was —"

But at that precise moment a screech owl swooped inthrough the kitchen window. Narrowly missing the top ofUncle Vernon's head, it soared across the kitchen, droppedthe large parchment envelope it was carrying in its beak atHarry's feet, and turned gracefully, the tips of its wings justbrushing the top of the fridge, then zoomed outside againand off across the garden.

"OWLS!" bellowed Uncle Vernon, the well-worn vein in histemple pulsing angrily as he slammed the kitchen windowshut. "OWLS AGAIN! I WILL NOT HAVE ANY MORE OWLSIN MY HOUSE!"

But Harry was already ripping open the envelope andpulling out the letter inside, his heart pounding somewherein the region of his Adam's apple.

Dear Mr. Potter,

We have received intelligence that you performed thePatronus Charm at twenty-three minutes past nine thisevening in a Muggle-inhabited area and in the presence ofa Muggle.

The severity of this breach of the Decree for theReasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery has resulted inyour expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft andWizardry. Ministry representatives will be calling at yourplace of residence shortly to destroy your wand.

As you have already received an official warning for aprevious offense under section 13 of the InternationalConfederation of Wizards' Statute of Secrecy, we regret toinform you that your presence is required at a disciplinaryhearing at the Ministry of Magic at 9 a.m. on August 12th. 

Hoping you are well,

Yours sincerely,

Mafalda Hopkirk

IMPROPER USE OF MAGIC OFFICE

Ministry of Magic

Harry read the letter through twice. He was only vaguelyaware of Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia talking in thevicinity. Inside his head, all was icy and numb. One fact hadpenetrated his consciousness like a paralyzing dart. He wasexpelled from Hogwarts. It was all over. He was never goingback.

He looked up at the Dursleys. Uncle Vernon was purplefaced, shouting, his fists still raised; Aunt Petunia had herarms around Dudley, who was retching again.

Harry's temporarily stupefied brain seemed to reawaken.Ministry representatives will be calling at your place ofresidence shortly to destroy your wand. There was only onething for it. He would have to run — now. Where he wasgoing to go, Harry didn't know, but he was certain of onething: At Hogwarts or outside it, he needed his wand. In analmost dreamlike state, he pulled his wand out and turnedto leave the kitchen.

"Where d'you think you're going?" yelled Uncle Vernon.When Harry didn't reply, he pounded across the kitchen toblock the doorway into the hall. "I haven't finished with you,boy!"

"Get out of the way," said Harry quietly.

"You're going to stay here and explain how my son —"

"If you don't get out of the way I'm going to jinx you," saidHarry, raising the wand.

"You can't pull that one on me!" snarled Uncle Vernon. "Iknow you're not allowed to use it outside that madhouseyou call a school!"

"The madhouse has chucked me out," said Harry. "So Ican do whatever I like. You've got three seconds. One — two—" 

A resounding CRACK filled the kitchen; Aunt Petuniascreamed, Uncle Vernon yelled and ducked, but for thethird time that night Harry was staring for the source of adisturbance he had not made. He spotted it at once: Adazed and ruffled-looking barn owl was sitting outside onthe kitchen sill, having just collided with the closed window.

Ignoring Uncle Vernon's anguished yell of "OWLS!" Harrycrossed the room at a run and wrenched the window openagain. The owl stuck out its leg, to which a small roll ofparchment was tied, shook its feathers, and took off themoment Harry had pulled off the letter. Hands shaking,Harry unfurled the second message, which was written veryhastily and blotchily in black ink.

Harry —

Dumbledore's just arrived at the Ministry, and he's tryingto sort it all out. DO NOT LEAVE YOUR AUNT ANDUNCLE'S HOUSE. DO NOT DO ANY MORE MAGIC. DONOT SURRENDER YOUR WAND.

Arthur Weasley

Dumbledore was trying to sort it all out. ... What did thatmean? How much power did Dumbledore have to overridethe Ministry of Magic? Was there a chance that he might beallowed back to Hogwarts, then? A small shoot of hopeburgeoned in Harry's chest, almost immediately strangledby panic — how was he supposed to refuse to surrender hiswand without doing magic? He'd have to duel with theMinistry representatives, and if he did that, he'd be lucky toescape Azkaban, let alone expulsion.

His mind was racing. ... He could run for it and risk beingcaptured by the Ministry, or stay put and wait for them tofind him here. He was much more tempted by the formercourse, but he knew that Mr. Weasley had his best interestsat heart ... and, after all, Dumbledore had sorted out muchworse than this before. ...

"Right," Harry said, "I've changed my mind, I'm staying."He flung himself down at the kitchen table and facedDudley and Aunt Petunia. The Dursleys appeared takenaback at his abrupt change of mind. Aunt Petunia glanceddespairingly at Uncle Vernon. The vein in Uncle Vernon'spurple temple was throbbing worse than ever.

"Who are all these ruddy owls from?" he growled. 

"The first one was from the Ministry of Magic, expellingme," said Harry calmly; he was straining his ears to catchnoises outside in case the Ministry representatives wereapproaching, and it was easier and quieter to answer UncleVernon's questions than to have him start raging andbellowing. "The second one was from my friend Ron's dad,he works at the Ministry."

"Ministry of Magic?" bellowed Uncle Vernon. "People likeyou in government? Oh this explains everything, everything,no wonder the country's going to the dogs. ..."

When Harry did not respond, Uncle Vernon glared at him,then spat, "And why have you been expelled?"

"Because I did magic."

"AHA!" roared Uncle Vernon, slamming his fist down onthe top of the fridge, which sprang open; several ofDudley's low-fat snacks toppled out and burst on the floor."So you admit it! What did you do to Dudley?"

"Nothing," said Harry, slightly less calmly. "That wasn'tme —"

"Was," muttered Dudley unexpectedly, and Uncle Vernonand Aunt Petunia instantly made flapping gestures at Harryto quiet him while they both bent low over Dudley. 

"Go on, son," said Uncle Vernon, "what did he do?"

"Tell us, darling," whispered Aunt Petunia.

"Pointed his wand at me," Dudley mumbled.

"Yeah, I did, but I didn't use —" Harry began angrily, but...

"SHUT UP!" roared Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia inunison. "Go on, son," repeated Uncle Vernon, mustacheblowing about furiously.

"All dark," Dudley said hoarsely, shuddering. "Everythingdark. And then I h-heard ... things. Inside m-my head ..."

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia exchanged looks of utterhorror. If their least favorite thing in the world was magic,closely followed by neighbors who cheated more than theydid on the hosepipe ban, people who heard voices weredefinitely in the bottom ten. They obviously thought Dudleywas losing his mind.

"What sort of things did you hear, popkin?" breathed AuntPetunia, very white-faced and with tears in her eyes. 

But Dudley seemed incapable of saying. He shudderedagain and shook his large blond head, and despite the senseof numb dread that had settled on Harry since the arrival ofthe first owl, he felt a certain curiosity. Dementors caused aperson to relive the worst moments of their life. ... Whatwould spoiled, pampered, bullying Dudley have been forcedto hear?

"How come you fell over, son?" said Uncle Vernon in anunnaturally quiet voice, the kind of voice he would adopt atthe bedside of a very ill person.

"T-tripped," said Dudley shakily. "And then —"He gestured at his massive chest. Harry understood:Dudley was remembering the clammy cold that filled thelungs as hope and happiness were sucked out of you.

"Horrible," croaked Dudley. "Cold. Really cold."

"Okay," said Uncle Vernon in a voice of forced calm, whileAunt Petunia laid an anxious hand on Dudley's forehead tofeel his temperature. "What happened then, Dudders?"

"Felt ... felt ... felt ... as if... as if ..."

"As if you'd never be happy again," Harry suppliedtonelessly. 

"Yes," Dudley whispered, still trembling.

"So," said Uncle Vernon, voice restored to full andconsiderable volume as he straightened up. "So you putsome crackpot spell on my son so he'd hear voices andbelieve he was — was doomed to misery, or something, didyou?"

"How many times do I have to tell you?" said Harry,temper and voice rising together. "It wasn't me! It was acouple of dementors!"

"A couple of— what's this codswallop?"

"De — men — tors," said Harry slowly and clearly. "Two ofthem."

"And what the ruddy hell are dementors?"

"They guard the wizard prison, Azkaban," said AuntPetunia. 

Two seconds' ringing silence followed these words andthen Aunt Petunia clapped her hand over her mouth asthough she had let slip a disgusting swear word. UncleVernon was goggling at her. Harry's brain reeled. Mrs. Figgwas one thing — but Aunt Petunia?

"How d'you know that?" he asked her, astonished.

Aunt Petunia looked quite appalled with herself. Sheglanced at Uncle Vernon in fearful apology, then loweredher hand slightly to reveal her horsey teeth.

"I heard — that awful boy — telling her about them —years ago," she said jerkily. 

"If you mean my mum and dad, why don't you use theirnames?" said Harry loudly, but Aunt Petunia ignored him.She seemed horribly flustered.

Harry was stunned. Except for one outburst years ago, inthe course of which Aunt Petunia had screamed thatHarry's mother had been a freak, he had never heard hermention her sister. He was astounded that she hadremembered this scrap of information about the magicalworld for so long, when she usually put all her energies intopretending it didn't exist.

Uncle Vernon opened his mouth, closed it again, opened itonce more, shut it, then, apparently struggling toremember how to talk, opened it for a third time andcroaked, "So — so — they — er — they — er — they actuallyexist, do they — er — dementy-whatsits?"

Aunt Petunia nodded.

Uncle Vernon looked from Aunt Petunia to Dudley toHarry as if hoping somebody was going to shout "AprilFool!" When nobody did, he opened his mouth yet again,but was spared the struggle to find more words by thearrival of the third owl of the evening, which zoomedthrough the still-open window like a feathery cannonballand landed with a clatter on the kitchen table, causing allthree of the Dursleys to jump with fright. Harry tore asecond official-looking envelope from the owl's beak andripped it open as the owl swooped back out into the night.

"Enough — effing — owls ..." muttered Uncle Vernondistractedly, stomping over to the window and slamming itshut again. 

Dear Mr. Potter,

Further to our letter of approximately twenty-twominutes ago, the Ministry of Magic has revised its decisionto destroy your wand forthwith. You may retain your wanduntil your disciplinary hearing on 12th August, at whichtime an official decision will be taken.

Following discussions with the Headmaster of HogwartsSchool of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Ministry has agreedthat the question of your expulsion will also be decided atthat time. You should therefore consider yourselfsuspended from school pending further inquiries. 

With best wishes,

Yours sincerely,

Mafalda Hopkirk

IMPROPER USE OF MAGIC OFFICE

Ministry of Magic

Harry read this letter through three times in quicksuccession. The miserable knot in his chest loosened slightlyat the thought that he was not definitely expelled, thoughhis fears were by no means banished. Everything seemed tohang on this hearing on the twelfth of August.

"Well?" said Uncle Vernon, recalling Harry to hissurroundings. "What now? Have they sentenced you toanything? Do your lot have the death penalty?" he added asa hopeful afterthought.

"I've got to go to a hearing," said Harry.

"And they'll sentence you there?"

"I suppose so."

"I won't give up hope, then," said Uncle Vernon nastily. 

"Well, if that's all," said Harry, getting to his feet. He wasdesperate to be alone, to think, perhaps to send a letter toRon, Hermione, or Sirius.

"NO, IT RUDDY WELL IS NOT ALL!" bellowed UncleVernon. "SIT BACK DOWN!"

"What now?" said Harry impatiently.

"DUDLEY!" roared Uncle Vernon. "I want to know exactlywhat happened to my son!"

"FINE!" yelled Harry, and in his temper, red and goldsparks shot out of the end of his wand, still clutched in hishand. All three Dursleys flinched, looking terrified. 

"Dudley and I were in the alleyway between MagnoliaCrescent and Wisteria Walk," said Harry, speaking fast,fighting to control his temper. "Dudley thought he'd besmart with me, I pulled out my wand but didn't use it. Thentwo dementors turned up —"

"But what ARE dementoids?" asked Uncle Vernonfuriously. "What do they DO?"

"I told you — they suck all the happiness out of you," saidHarry, "and if they get the chance, they kiss you —"

"Kiss you?" said Uncle Vernon, his eyes popping slightly."Kiss you?"

"It's what they call it when they suck the soul out of yourmouth."

Aunt Petunia uttered a soft scream.

"His soul? They didn't take — he's still got his —"

She seized Dudley by the shoulders and shook him, asthough testing to see whether she could hear his soulrattling around inside him.

"Of course they didn't get his soul, you'd know if theyhad," said Harry, exasperated. 

"Fought 'em off, did you, son?" said Uncle Vernon loudly,with the appearance of a man struggling to bring theconversation back onto a plane he understood. "Gave 'emthe old one-two, did you?"

"You can't give a dementor the old one-two," said Harrythrough clenched teeth.

"Why's he all right, then?" blustered Uncle Vernon. "Whyisn't he all empty, then?"

"Because I used the Patronus —"

WHOOSH. With a clattering, a whirring of wings, and asoft fall of dust, a fourth owl came shooting out of thekitchen fireplace.

"FOR GOD'S SAKE!" roared Uncle Vernon, pulling greatclumps of hair out of his mustache, something he hadn'tbeen driven to in a long time. "I WILL NOT HAVE OWLSHERE, I WILL NOT TOLERATE THIS, I TELL YOU!"

But Harry was already pulling a roll of parchment fromthe owl's leg. He was so convinced that this letter had to befrom Dumbledore, explaining everything — the dementors,Mrs. Figg, what the Ministry was up to, how he,Dumbledore, intended to sort everything out — that for thefirst time in his life he was disappointed to see Sirius'shandwriting. Ignoring Uncle Vernon's ongoing rant aboutowls and narrowing his eyes against a second cloud of dustas the most recent owl took off back up the chimney, Harryread Sirius's message.

Arthur's just told us what's happened.

Don't leave the house again, whatever you do.

Harry found this such an inadequate response toeverything that had happened tonight that he turned thepiece of parchment over, looking for the rest of the letter,but there was nothing there.

And now his temper was rising again. Wasn't anybodygoing to say "well done" for fighting off two dementorssingle-handedly? Both Mr. Weasley and Sirius were actingas though he'd misbehaved and they were saving theirtellings-off until they could ascertain how much damagehad been done. 

"— a peck, I mean, pack of owls shooting in and out of myhouse and I won't have it, boy, I won't —"

"I can't stop the owls coming," Harry snapped, crushingSirius's letter in his fist.

"I want the truth about what happened tonight!" barkedUncle Vernon. "If it was demenders who hurt Dudley, howcome you've been expelled? You did you-know-what, you'veadmitted it!"

Harry took a deep, steadying breath. His head wasbeginning to ache again. He wanted more than anything toget out of the kitchen, away from the Dursleys. 

"I did the Patronus Charm to get rid of the dementors,"he said, forcing himself to remain calm. "It's the only thingthat works against them."

"But what were dementoids doing in Little Whinging?"said Uncle Vernon in tones of outrage.

"Couldn't tell you," said Harry wearily. "No idea."

His head was pounding in the glare of the strip lightingnow. His anger was ebbing away. He felt drained,exhausted. The Dursleys were all staring at him. 

"It's you," said Uncle Vernon forcefully. "It's gotsomething to do with you, boy, I know it. Why else wouldthey turn up here? Why else would they be down thatalleyway? You've got to be the only — the only —" Evidentlyhe couldn't bring himself to say the word "wizard." "Theonly you-know-what for miles."

"I don't know why they were here. ..."

But at these words of Uncle Vernon's, Harry's exhaustedbrain ground back into action. Why had the dementorscome to Little Whinging? How could it be coincidence thatthey had arrived in the alleyway where Harry was? Hadthey been sent? Had the Ministry of Magic lost control ofthe dementors, had they deserted Azkaban and joinedVoldemort, as Dumbledore had predicted they would?

"These demembers guard some weirdos' prison?" saidUncle Vernon, lumbering in the wake of Harry's train ofthought.

"Yes," said Harry.

If only his head would stop hurting, if only he could justleave the kitchen and get to his dark bedroom and think. ...

"Oho! They were coming to arrest you!" said UncleVernon, with the triumphant air of a man reaching anunassailable conclusion. "That's it, isn't it, boy? You're onthe run from the law!"

"Of course I'm not," said Harry, shaking his head asthough to scare off a fly, his mind racing now."Then why — ?"

"He must have sent them," said Harry quietly, more tohimself than to Uncle Vernon.

"What's that? Who must have sent them?"

"Lord Voldemort," said Harry. 

He registered dimly how strange it was that the Dursleys,who flinched, winced, and squawked if they heard wordslike "wizard," "magic," or "wand," could hear the name ofthe most evil wizard of all time without the slightest tremor.

"Lord — hang on," said Uncle Vernon, his face screwedup, a look of dawning comprehension in his piggy eyes. "I'veheard that name ... that was the one who ..."

"Murdered my parents, yes," Harry said.

"But he's gone," said Uncle Vernon impatiently, withoutthe slightest sign that the murder of Harry's parents mightbe a painful topic to anybody. "That giant bloke said so. He'sgone."

"He's back," said Harry heavily.

It felt very strange to be standing here in Aunt Petunia'ssurgically clean kitchen, beside the top-of-the-range fridgeand the wide-screen television, and talking calmly of LordVoldemort to Uncle Vernon. The arrival of the dementors inLittle Whinging seemed to have caused a breach in thegreat, invisible wall that divided the relentlessly nonmagical world of Privet Drive and the world beyond. Harry'stwo lives had somehow become fused and everything hadbeen turned upside down: The Dursleys were asking fordetails about the magical world and Mrs. Figg knew AlbusDumbledore; dementors were soaring around LittleWhinging and he might never go back to Hogwarts. Harry'shead throbbed more painfully.

"Back?" whispered Aunt Petunia.

She was looking at Harry as she had never looked at himbefore. And all of a sudden, for the very first time in his life,Harry fully appreciated that Aunt Petunia was his mother'ssister. He could not have said why this hit him so verypowerfully at this moment. All he knew was that he was notthe only person in the room who had an inkling of whatLord Voldemort being back might mean. Aunt Petunia hadnever in her life looked at him like that before. Her large,pale eyes (so unlike her sister's) were not narrowed indislike or anger: They were wide and fearful. The furiouspretense that Aunt Petunia had maintained all Harry's life— that there was no magic and no world other than theworld she inhabited with Uncle Vernon — seemed to havefallen away.

"Yes," Harry said, talking directly to Aunt Petunia now."He came back a month ago. I saw him."

Her hands found Dudley's massive leather-clad shouldersand clutched them.

"Hang on," said Uncle Vernon, looking from his wife toHarry and back again, apparently dazed and confused bythe unprecedented understanding that seemed to havesprung up between them. "Hang on. This Lord Voldything'sback, you say."

"Yes."

"The one who murdered your parents."

"Yes."

"And now he's sending dismembers after you?"

"Looks like it," said Harry.

"I see," said Uncle Vernon, looking from his white-facedwife to Harry and hitching up his trousers. He seemed to beswelling, his great purple face stretching before Harry'seyes. "Well, that settles it," he said, his shirt front strainingas he inflated himself, "you can get out of this house, boy!"

"What?" said Harry. 

"You heard me — OUT!"

Uncle Vernon bellowed, and evenAunt Petunia and Dudley jumped. "OUT! OUT! I should'vedone it years ago! Owls treating the place like a rest home,puddings exploding, half the lounge destroyed, Dudley'stail, Marge bobbing around on the ceiling, and that flyingFord Anglia — OUT! OUT! You've had it! You're history!You're not staying here if some loony's after you, you're notendangering my wife and son, you're not bringing troubledown on us, if you're going the same way as your uselessparents, I've had it! OUT!"Harry stood rooted to the spot. The letters from theMinistry, Mr. Weasley, and Sirius were crushed in his lefthand. Don't leave the house again, whatever you do. DONOT LEAVE YOUR AUNT AND UNCLE'S HOUSE.

"You heard me!" said Uncle Vernon, bending forward now,so that his massive purple face came closer to Harry's, sothat Harry actually felt flecks of spit hit his face. "Get going!You were all keen to leave half an hour ago! I'm rightbehind you! Get out and never darken our doorstep again!Why we ever kept you in the first place I don't know. Margewas right, it should have been the orphanage, we were toodamn soft for our own good, thought we could squash it outof you, thought we could turn you normal, but you've beenrotten from the beginning, and I've had enough — OWLS!"

The fifth owl zoomed down the chimney so fast it actuallyhit the floor before zooming into the air again with a loudscreech. Harry raised his hand to seize the letter, whichwas in a scarlet envelope, but it soared straight over hishead, flying directly at Aunt Petunia, who let out a screamand ducked, her arms over her face. The owl dropped thered envelope on her head, turned, and flew straight up thechimney again. 

Harry darted forward to pick up the letter, but AuntPetunia beat him to it.

"You can open it if you like," said Harry, "but I'll hear whatit says anyway. That's a Howler."

"Let go of it, Petunia!" roared Uncle Vernon. "Don't touchit, it could be dangerous!"

"It's addressed to me," said Aunt Petunia in a shakingvoice. "It's addressed to me, Vernon, look! Mrs. PetuniaDursley, The Kitchen, Number Four, Privet Drive —"

She caught her breath, horrified. The red envelope hadbegun to smoke.

"Open it!" Harry urged her. "Get it over with! It'll happenanyway —"

"No —"

Aunt Petunia's hand was trembling. She looked wildlyaround the kitchen as though looking for an escape route,but too late — the envelope burst into flames. Aunt Petuniascreamed and dropped it.

An awful voice filled the kitchen, echoing in the confinedspace, issuing from the burning letter on the table.

"REMEMBER MY LAST, PETUNIA."

Aunt Petunia looked as though she might faint. She sankinto the chair beside Dudley, her face in her hands. Theremains of the envelope smoldered into ash in the silence. 

"What is this?" Uncle Vernon said hoarsely. "What — Idon't — Petunia?"

Aunt Petunia said nothing. Dudley was staring stupidly athis mother, his mouth hanging open. The silence spiraledhorribly. Harry was watching his aunt, utterly bewildered,his head throbbing fit to burst.

"Petunia, dear?" said Uncle Vernon timidly. "P-Petunia?"

She raised her head. She was still trembling. Sheswallowed. 

"The boy — the boy will have to stay, Vernon," she saidweakly.

"W-what?"

"He stays," she said. She was not looking at Harry. Shegot to her feet again.

"He ... but Petunia ..."

"If we throw him out, the neighbors will talk," she said.She was regaining her usual brisk, snappish mannerrapidly, though she was still very pale. "They'll ask awkwardquestions, they'll want to know where he's gone. We'll haveto keep him."

Uncle Vernon was deflating like an old tire.

"But Petunia, dear —"

Aunt Petunia ignored him. She turned to Harry.

"You're to stay in your room," she said. "You're not toleave the house. Now get to bed."Harry didn't move.

"Who was that Howler from?"

"Don't ask questions," Aunt Petunia snapped.

"Are you in touch with wizards?"

"I told you to get to bed!"

"What did it mean? Remember the last what?"

"Go to bed!"

"How come — ?"

"YOU HEARD YOUR AUNT, NOW GET TO BED!"