THE TRUTH REVEALED
CHAPTER TWO
"Hem hem" Umbridge repeated. "The first book is called, "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. Minister, wasn't there a small piece in the news about a Sorcerer's Stone at the end of Mr. Potter's first year?" she queried. "Ahem." said Minister Fudge. "I believe there was, yes. At that point the only one in existence was destroyed, of course this was not a matter the Ministry would get involved with-you see it was the invention of an invdividual, not work in Department of Mysteries or anything. No, it was fully Mr. Nicolas Flamel's posession, he was fully entitled to do anything with it he pleased, as long as any other individual it involved agreed of course. Go on please, Senior Undersecretary."
"Senior Underbridge!" whispered Ron loudly at the Gryffindor table. Luckily, nobody heard him but the Gryffindors.
"Hem hem." Umbridge said again. _(REMEMBER: NO ACTUAL QUOTATION, OR VERY RARELY)
Memorable first line to the series.
Harry groaned. Oh dear. All his secret were about to be revealed-he stood up. "Excuse me?" he said politely. "Yes, Mr. Potter?" replied Umbridge, her tone as sweet as always. "There is very personal stuff in there, Professor. could you please, erm, summarize it instead of reading every detail?" he asked nervously. "Oh Mr. Potter, I don't think we can do that," she replied. Oh dear. Not looking good... "you see, I want everybody to know just how much of a liar you are. And if we cannot see, as it were, into your mind-"
Harry lurched on his seat for a moment at that-he absolutely detested people seeing into his mind, much less the whole Great Hall, which, unfortunatly included Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Crabb and Goyle-"never know if you are lying or not, understand?" Umbridge had very obviously just come out of a long-winded explanation, but Harry had caught enough to understand.
"Yes Professor," he forced out. "good, now let us continue. Ahem..."
The book goes on to explain how normal Mr. and Mrs. Dursley are.
Grunnings and drills...
Harry noticed that some people, especially Malfoy, was looking quite bored, although Harry was sure they were listening for dirt on him later.
Physical description of Mr. and Mrs. Dursley
Dudley is the best, in the Dursley's opinion.
The Dursley's have a secret. They do not want anybody to know.
The Great Hall came to life, barely, with small whispers. "a secret? what secret?" was asked, but Harry's friends were sure that these Dursley's were Harry's relatives, and are curious, but at the same time respectful of Harry's privacy. They consider holding their ears, and suggest that to Harry, but Harry says "No, if everybody's gonna hear it, why can't my best friends? Especially when Malfoy, Umbridge, Fudge, AND," he paled suddenly "Snape. Who wants thier worst teacher ever knowing all their secrets? I am sure I can empathize with teh Dursleys, for once.
The Dursley's did not want anybody finding out about the Potters. Mrs. Dursley pretended not to have a sister. Her and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish (sorry is that a copyrighted word?) as it was possible to be. What would happen if they showed up on the street the Dursley's shuddered to imagine.
Beginning of the day, Dudley is having a mini tantrum throwing cereal at the walls. Mr. Dursley laughs and heads to work.
"That is...horrible parenting!" McGonagall gasps. "What self-respecting parent would let their child scream like that over nothing without some form of punishment? They will grow up vulgar and spoiled and and who knows what else!" She also privately added that she could not believe Potter had grown up there and NOT be spoiled, but she supposed this was somthing to admire in him. "I quite agree with you, Minerva. Every bad thing should be punished-and throwing a tantrum like that hardly warrants laughing and walking off."
"May we please continue with the story?" Asked Snape. Harry growled at him. "Yes of course he wants to know all my secrets-the monster!" Harry said in an undertone.
None of them notice an owl flying past the window
Several people sniggered.
Mr. Dursley picks out his most boring tie, and Mrs. Dursley gets Dudley in his high chair while whistling.
On the corner of the stree he noticed a cat, reading a map.
Harry and co look at each other. "quite sure that's McGonagall" harry remarks.
For a second Mr Dursley does not realize what he has seen-then he looks around again for a better look. There's the cat, he thinks to himself, but not a map anywhere. Must have been a trick of the light. Now the cat is reading the sign that said "Privet Drive". Mr. Dursley shakes his head to clear it. Cats couldn't read maps or signs. Mr. Dursley puts the cat out of his mind.
By this time, most people were sure that the 'cat' was an Animagus, and the people who had done their homework knew that the only cat Animagus was Professor McGonagall. "Why Minerva, what were you doing at Privet Drive?" asks Umbridge. "Reading a map! People with more sense than Mr. Dursley would have noticed it actually was a cat reading a map-and decided somthing peculiar was going on." McGonagall interrupted tiredly. "We all know what might have happened, but I do not even know the date of this incident so I cannot explain right now." however, she shot a look to Dumbledore that Harry did not miss. "wonder what time frame this happens in," he mutters.
Mr. Dursley thought of nothing but drills for a while. However, he couldn't help noticeing there were many strangely dressed people about.
"There must be more of wizarding folk in the Muggle world today," remarked Fudge. "We really need to learn how to dress as Muggles better-Muggle Studies ought to cover it. Miss Burbage, does Muggle Studies cover Muggle dressing?" Charity Burbage bristled. "Of course it does, Minister! The dress is one of the most important aspects of the Muggles to a wizard, it-" McGonagall interrupted "Not now, Charity. Maybe you can talk to Minister later."
People in cloaks.
"They're not even trying!" cried the Minister, outraged.
Mr. Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed strangely-the styles you saw on young folk! He decided this must be some new fashion. His eyes then fell on a group of people huddled clsoe by, whispering together. Mr. Dursley was outraged to see a man older than he was-and he was wearing an emerald-green cloak! The nerve of him! he thought savagely. But then is struck him that they might be collecting for somthing-some weird holiday he didn't remember, maybe. Yes, that would be it. He drove on and as he arrived at work, his mind was back on drills.
Mr. Dursley sat with his back to the window, so he missed continual owls swooping overhead.