Chapter 4

This time it was James who pointed his wand at the journals and said, "Loquis!"

The escape of the Brazilian boa constrictor earned Harry his longest-ever punishment. By the time he was allowed out of his cupboard again, the summer holidays

"Good, this means you're letter is on its way!" James said, excitedly.

had started and Dudley had already broken his new video camera, crashed his remote control airplane, and, first time out on his racing bike, knocked down old Mrs. Figg as she crossed Privet Drive on her crutches.

"Poor woman, why can't Petunia control that boy!" Lily hissed angrily.

Harry was glad school was over, but there was no escaping Dudley's gang, who visited the house every single day. Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon were all big and stupid, but as Dudley was the biggest and stupidest of the lot, he was the leader.

"That's the strangest thing I've ever heard!" Remus said.

"Well, look on the bright side," Sirius said, " at least now you have enough practice to deal with the Slytherins!"

"Please, Harry's not going to attack Slytherins just for the heck of it!" Lily said, angrily.

"We don't attack them just for the heck of it either! They deserve it!" Sirius said viciously.

"I was wondering how long this unspoken truce was going to last." Remus whispered, turning to Harry. "Lily doesn't really approve of most of the things we do." He explained.

"I know. But she's friends with you though, right?" Harry asked.

"As long as I'm not around Sirius or James..."

The rest of them were all quite happy to join in Dudley's favorite sport: Harry Hunting.

Sirius made a sound that could only be called growling. It sounded so much like the sound Padfoot made that Harry half expected him to have transformed on the spot.

This was why Harry spent as much time as possible out of the house, wandering around and thinking about the end of the holidays, where he could see a tiny ray of hope. When September came he would be going off to secondary school and, for the first time in his life, he wouldn't be with Dudley.

"That's right, Harry. You'll be going to Hogwarts." Lily cooed.

Sirius rolled his eyes at her.

Dudley had been accepted at Uncle Vernon's old private school, Smeltings. Piers Polkiss was going there too. Harry, on the other hand, was going to Stonewall High, the local public school.

"No, you're going to Hogwarts!" Sirius said.

Dudley thought this was very funny.

"They stuff people's heads down the toilet the first day at Stonewall," he told Harry. "Want to come upstairs and practice?"

"No, thanks," said Harry. "The poor toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it - it might be sick." Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he'd said.

They all laughed.

"Nice comeback, mate!" James said, looking at Harry proudly.

One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving Harry at Mrs. Figg's. Mrs. Figg wasn 't as bad as usual. It turned out she'd broken her leg tripping over one of her cats,

"She seems to be hurting herself quite often, don't you think?" Lily said.

Harry thought about that for a moment. Coming to think about it she did seem very accident prone.

and she didn't seem quite as fond of them as before. She let Harry watch television and gave him a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she'd had it for several years.

That evening, Dudley paraded around the living room for the family in his brand-new uniform. Smeltings' boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers, and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitting each other while the teachers weren't looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life.

"And the similarities continue. This sounds like Durmstrang, doesn't it?" Sirius said.

"Did your parents want you to go to Durmstrang?" Lily asked.

"No, but that's only because they didn't get along with the Headmaster there. Some old family feud." Sirius said, darkly.

As he looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Vernon said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn't believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins, he looked so handsome and grown-up. Harry didn't trust himself to speak. He thought two of his ribs might already have cracked from trying not to laugh.

"How will you ever recover?" James said sarcastically while the rest of them laughed.

"I can't believe Petunia calls him that!" Lily said, wiping a tear from her eyes.

There was a horrible smell in the kitchen the next morning when Harry went in for breakfast. It seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. He went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in gray water.

"What's this?" he asked Aunt Petunia. Her lips tightened as they always did if he dared to ask a question.

"Your new school uniform," she said.

"No, it's not! He'll be wearing robes, you stupid hag!" Sirius said loudly.

"Sirius, give it a rest." Remus said, exasperated.

Harry looked in the bowl again.

"Oh," he said, "I didn't realize it had to be so wet."

James chuckled despite himself.

"Don't be stupid," snapped Aunt Petunia. "I'm dyeing some of Dudley's old things gray for you. It'll look just like everyone else's when I've finished."

Harry seriously doubted this, but thought it best not to argue. He sat down at the table and tried not to think about how he was going to look on his first day at Stonewall High - like he was wearing bits of old elephant skin, probably.

"Don't worry, you won't have to wear it." Lily said, comfortingly.

"You guys do realize that you're talking to a book, right?" Remus said, trying to hide his smile.

Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses because of the smell from Harry's new uniform. Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper as usual and Dudley banged his Smelting stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table.

They heard the click of the mail slot and flop of letters on the doormat.

"Oooh, I think it's here!" Lily said happily.

"But wait, why isn't someone here to talk to him? That's what they do for Muggleborns right?" Remus asked, looking a little worried.

"But Harry isn't Muggle-born!" Lily argued.

"I know that, but he doesn't know about our world." Remus said.

"You're right. Maybe this isn't it."

"Get the mail, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon from behind his paper.

"Make Harry get it."

"Get the mail, Harry."

"Make Dudley get it."

"Poke him with your Smelting stick, Dudley."

"Oh, just wait till Harry gets his wand! Lets see if your stick can match up to it!" James said viciously.

"Potter! Harry isn't allowed to perform magic outside school! Especially not on his Muggle cousin!" Lily scolded.

Harry dodged the Smelting stick and went to get the mail. Three things lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister Marge, who was vacationing on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and - a letter for Harry.

"So, it's here! I wonder why no one is here to explain things to you!" Lily said, less excited than she had been a few minutes ago.

"Dumbledore probably assumes that his letter did its job. Suppose he thinks that darling Petunia has told Harry everything about our world" Remus said darkly.

"Oh, I hope Harry doesn't think it's a prank!" Lily said anxiously. "McGonagall came to my house to tell me that I was a witch, with a wand and everything and I still thought it was a prank! A letter's just not going to be enough!"

Harry picked it up and stared at it, his heart twanging like a giant elastic band. No one, ever, in his whole life, had written to him. Who would? He had no friends, no other relatives - he didn't belong to the library, so he'd never even got rude notes asking for books back. Yet here it was, a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake:

Mr. H. Potter

The Cupboard under the Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging Surrey

"So Dumbledore knows he lives in a cupboard?" Sirius asked, a hint of anger creeping into his voice.

"I don't think Dumbledore actually addresses these, Sirius. There must be some tracking charm on it." Remus explained.

The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink. There was no stamp.

Turning the envelope over, his hand trembling, Harry saw a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H.

"Ugh, so Slytherins still there." Sirius muttered.

"Of course it is! What, did you think that an entire house would just vanish?" Lily scoffed.

"A wizard can always hope."

"Hurry up, boy!" shouted Uncle Vernon from the kitchen. "What are you doing, checking for letter bombs?" He chuckled at his own joke.

Harry went back to the kitchen, still staring at his letter.

"Oh, this is bad. You should've opened it in the living room, Harry!" Lily said nervously.

"I was too stunned to think straight." Harry muttered defensively.

He handed Uncle Vernon the bill and the postcard, sat down, and slowly began to open the yellow envelope.

Uncle Vernon ripped open the bill, snorted in disgust, and flipped over the postcard.

"Marge's ill," he informed Aunt Petunia. "Ate a funny whelk. -."

"Dad!" said Dudley suddenly. "Dad, Harry's got something!"

"Damn," James said annoyed, "Oh, why isn't he as retarded as he looks?"

"He is," Harry retorted, " except when he wants to get me into trouble."

Harry was on the point of unfolding his letter, which was written on the same heavy parchment as the envelope, when it was jerked sharply out of his hand by Uncle Vernon.

"That's mine!" said Harry, trying to snatch it back.

"Who'd be writing to you?" sneered Uncle Vernon, shaking the letter open with one hand and glancing at it. His face went from red to green faster than a set of traffic lights. And it didn't stop there. Within seconds it was the grayish white of old porridge.

"P-P-Petunia!" he gasped.

"Oh, this is bad!" Lily said, as she began to rock herself slowly.

Dudley tried to grab the letter to read it, but Uncle Vernon held it high out of his reach. Aunt Petunia took it curiously and read the first line. For a moment it looked as though she might faint. She clutched her throat and made a choking noise.

"Vernon! Oh my goodness - Vernon!"

"How can she be surprised? She knows who I am!" Lily said loudly.

"I think maybe she was pretending for Uncle Vernon's sake." Harry suggested.

They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten that Harry and Dudley were still in the room. Dudley wasn't used to being ignored. He gave his father a sharp tap on the head with his Smelting stick.

"I want to read that letter," he said loudly. want to read it," said Harry furiously, "as it's mine."

"Yeah, give it to him, you stupid troll!" Sirius said angrily.

"Get out, both of you," croaked Uncle Vernon, stuffing the letter back inside its envelope.

Harry didn't move.

I WANT MY LETTER!" he shouted.

"That's it, Harry! Stand up for yourself!" Sirius said, cheering.

The Harry sitting in front of him observing the scene was amused. They seemed to forget that he was sitting right there. He was glad that they were so involved in the story. It was comforting in a strange way. It's what he had come here for.

"Let me see it!" demanded Dudley.

"OUT!" roared Uncle Vernon, and he took both Harry and Dudley by the scruffs of their necks and threw them into the hall, slamming the kitchen door behind them. Harry and Dudley promptly had a furious but silent fight over who would listen at the keyhole;

"It should be Harry! It's his letter after all!" Lily said, as though that settled the matter.

"Somehow I don't think Dudley will see that." James predicted.

Dudley won, so Harry, his glasses dangling from one ear, lay flat on his stomach to listen at the crack between door and floor.

"Vernon," Aunt Petunia was saying in a quivering voice, "look at the address - how could they possibly know where he sleeps? You don't think they're watching the house?"

"Watching - spying - might be following us," muttered Uncle Vernon wildly.

"Right, like wizards really are that keen to know what you're doing." Sirius snapped.

"You know, he may not be very wrong. I wouldn't be surprised if Dumbledore has arranged for someone to keep an eye on Harry." Lily said, thinking aloud.

"What do you think they've been doing all this while then?" Sirius retorted.

"It's just a theory," Lily said defensively, "besides, maybe they are just making sure that no one magical hurts Harry. After all, there must be Death Eaters out there who might cause trouble."

"But what should we do, Vernon? Should we write back? Tell them we don't want -"

Harry could see Uncle Vernon's shiny black shoes pacing up and down the kitchen.

"No," he said finally. "No, we'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer... Yes, that's best... we won't do anything...

"That'll never work! Dumbledore might have made a few mistakes so far but there is no way he'd let you keep Harry from going to Hogwarts!" James said loudly.

"But -"

"I'm not having one in the house, Petunia! Didn't we swear when we took him in we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense?"

"Dangerous nonsense?" Lily shrieked.

"But she's your sister! She has to know at least this much about our world! It's not something you can just stamp out of someone!" James yelled, perplexed.

"Aunt Petunia liked to pretend that she had no idea about our world. She usually just went along with anything Uncle Vernon came up with." Harry said.

That evening when he got back from work, Uncle Vernon did something he'd never done before; he visited Harry in his cupboard.

"Where's my letter?" said Harry, the moment Uncle Vernon had squeezed through the door. "Who's writing to me?"

"No one. it was addressed to you by mistake," said Uncle Vernon shortly.

"I have burned it."

"It was not a mistake," said Harry angrily, "it had my cupboard on it."

"You tell him, Harry!" Sirius shouted.

"SILENCE!" yelled Uncle Vernon, and a couple of spiders fell from the ceiling. He took a few deep breaths and then forced his face into a smile, which looked quite painful.

"Er - yes, Harry - about this cupboard. Your aunt and I have been thinking... you're really getting a bit big for it... we think it might be nice if you moved into Dudley's second bedroom.

"Well, at least one good thing came out of it and he's going to get the letter eventually." Remus said, trying to calm everyone down.

"Why?" said Harry.

"Don't ask questions!" snapped his uncle. "Take this stuff upstairs, now."

The Dursleys' house had four bedrooms: one for Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, one for visitors (usually Uncle Vernon's sister, Marge), one where Dudley slept, and one where Dudley kept all the toys and things that wouldn't fit into his first bedroom.

"They have four bedrooms and they still make you sleep in a stinking cupboard?" Lily said furiously, sparks flying from the wand she was clutching in her hand. Harry hadn't seen her take it out.

It only took Harry one trip upstairs to move everything he owned from the cupboard to this room. He sat down on the bed and stared around him. Nearly everything in here was broken. The month-old video camera was lying on top of a small, working tank Dudley had once driven over the next door neighbor's dog; in the corner was Dudley's first-ever television set, which he'd put his foot through when his favorite program had been canceled; there was a large birdcage, which had once held a parrot that Dudley had swapped at school for a real air rifle, which was up on a shelf with the end all bent because Dudley had sat on it. Other shelves were full of books. They were the only things in the room that looked as though they'd never been touched.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Remus said, tiredly.

"Because, you've heard enough to know that that kid is a moron if there ever was one." said Sirius.

From downstairs came the sound of Dudley bawling at his mother, I don't want him in there... I need that room... make him get out..."

Harry sighed and stretched out on the bed. Yesterday he'd have given anything to be up here. Today he'd rather be back in his cupboard with that letter than up here without it.

"Don't worry, Harry. You'll be at Hogwarts soon. You can make real friends there and forget all about these people." Lily said, trying to reassure her eleven year old son trapped in the the pages of the journal in front of her.

Her eighteen year old son smiled.

Next morning at breakfast, everyone was rather quiet. Dudley was in shock. He'd screamed, whacked his father with his Smelting stick, been sick on purpose, kicked his mother, and thrown his tortoise through the greenhouse roof, and he still didn't have his room back. Harry was thinking about this time yesterday and bitterly wishing he'd opened the letter in the hall. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia kept looking at each other darkly.

When the mail arrived, Uncle Vernon, who seemed to be trying to be nice to Harry, made Dudley go and get it. They heard him banging things with his Smelting stick all the way down the hall. Then he shouted, "There's another one! 'Mr. H. Potter, The Smallest Bedroom, 4 Privet Drive -'"

"See, I told you they'd send another one!" Sirius said happily, though whom exactly he was saying that to, none of them knew.

"That boy is stupider than a flobberworm! He could've opened it discretely in the hall!" Lily said, shocked that anyone could be so stupid.

With a strangled cry, Uncle Vernon leapt from his seat and ran down the hall, Harry right behind him. Uncle Vernon had to wrestle Dudley to the ground to get the letter from him, which was made difficult by the fact that Harry had grabbed Uncle Vernon around the neck from behind. After a minute of confused fighting, in which everyone got hit a lot by the Smelting stick, Uncle Vernon straightened up, gasping for breath, with Harry's letter clutched in his hand.

"Wow, you really had to work hard to get to Hogwarts, didn't you?" Sirius said, looking at Harry.

"Go to your cupboard - I mean, your bedroom," he wheezed at Harry.

"Dudley - go - just go."

Harry walked round and round his new room. Someone knew he had moved out of his cupboard and they seemed to know he hadn't received his first letter. Surely that meant they'd try again? And this time he'd make sure they didn't fail. He had a plan.

"Uh oh, what are you going to do?" Lily asked apprehensively.

The repaired alarm clock rang at six o'clock the next morning. Harry turned it off quickly and dressed silently. He mustn't wake the Dursleys. He stole downstairs without turning on any of the lights.

"I don't think thats a good plan, mate." Sirius said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

He was going to wait for the postman on the corner of Privet Drive and get the letters for number four first. His heart hammered as he crept across the dark hall toward the front door - Harry leapt into the air; he'd trodden on something big and squashy on the doormat - something alive!

"No!"

James swore as the rest of them groaned.

Lights clicked on upstairs and to his horror Harry realized that the big, squashy something had been his uncle's face. Uncle Vernon had been lying at the foot of the front door in a sleeping bag, clearly making sure that Harry didn't do exactly what he'd been trying to do. He shouted at Harry for about half an hour and then told him to go and make a cup of tea. Harry shuffled miserably off into the kitchen and by the time he got back, the mail had arrived, right into Uncle Vernon's lap.

Harry could see three letters addressed in green ink.

"They're sending more letters now. Good." James said, reassured.

"What are you worried about anyway? I'm here, aren't I? I will get to Hogwarts, obviously." Harry said, smirking at his father.

"Oh right." James said, smiling sheepishly.

I want -" he began, but Uncle Vernon was tearing the letters into pieces before his eyes. Uncle Vernon didnt go to work that day. He stayed at home and nailed up the mail slot.

"See," he explained to Aunt Petunia through a mouthful of nails, "if they can't deliver them they'll just give up."

"I'm not sure that'll work, Vernon."

"Finally, she's voicing her opinion. When did she get this way anyway? She was never like this when we were kids. She never let anyone tell her what to do." Lily said sadly.

"Oh, she isn't a pushover by any stretch of imagination. It's just where I'm concerned she likes to take a backseat and let Uncle Vernon take over. Maybe it's because she feels she's responsible for what a burden I am. You were her sister after all..." Harry said thoughtful.

"You shouldn't have been percieved as a burden, Harry! They are supposed to be your family!" Lily said, angrily.

Harry just shrugged in response.

"Oh, these people's minds work in strange ways, Petunia, they're not like you and me," said Uncle Vernon,

"Thank Merlin for that!" Sirius snarled.

trying to knock in a nail with the piece of fruitcake Aunt Petunia had just brought him.

On Friday, no less than twelve letters arrived for Harry. As they couldn't go through the mail slot they had been pushed under the door, slotted through the sides, and a few even forced through the small window in the downstairs bathroom.

"Wow, you got to hand to them. Lack of imagination sure isn't a problem here!" Lily said, clearly impressed.

Uncle Vernon stayed at home again. After burning all the letters, he got out a hammer and nails and boarded up the cracks around the front and back doors so no one could go out. He hummed "Tiptoe Through the Tulips"as he worked, and jumped at small noises.

On Saturday, things began to get out of hand. Twenty-four letters to Harry found their way into the house, rolled up and hidden inside each of the two dozen eggs that their very confused milkman had handed Aunt Petunia through the living room window. While Uncle Vernon made furious telephone calls to the post office and the dairy trying to find someone to complain to, Aunt Petunia shredded the letters in her food processor.

"Who on earth wants to talk to you this badly?" Dudley asked Harry in amazement.

"I think he was a little jealous of me that day." Harry said, grinning broadly.

On Sunday morning, Uncle Vernon sat down at the breakfast table looking tired and rather ill, but happy.

"No post on Sundays," he reminded them cheerfully as he spread marmalade on his newspapers, "no damn letters today -"

"I almost feel sorry for him," Remus said, smiling maniacally, "Almost."

"

Something came whizzing down the kitchen chimney as he spoke and caught him sharply on the back of the head. Next moment, thirty or forty letters came pelting out of the fireplace like bullets. The Dursleys ducked, but Harry leapt into the air trying to catch one.

"You didn't catch even a single one?" Sirius asked incredulously.

"No, he was a lot bigger than me! Not to mention, I had to fight off Dudley too." Harry said in a small vioce.

"Don't listen to him, Harry." Lily said consolingly making Harry blush.

"Whatever, mate. Looks like you don't have the makings of a Seeker in you! There you go, Prongs. The tradition's broken." Sirius said, turning to James hence missing the smile that flashed on Harry's face for a second.

James gasped.

"But...but you have to be a seeker! Every generation in my family has had a Seeker or a Chaser alternatively playing for the Gryffindor team, for centuries now! I'm a Chaser which means you have to be a Seeker." James yelled.

"You can't force him to play Quidditch, James. Harry doesn't have to play Quidditch if he doesn't want to!" Lily said hotly.

"You don't play Quidditch at all?" James asked Harry, horror struck.

James was standing facing Harry hence he couldn't see what Sirius was trying to do behind his back. He was slicing his hand across his neck and mouthing, "Say no!". Lily saw what he was up to and bit back a smile.

"Err... It's not really my thing. I did okay in my flying lessons though." Harry added, suppressing a smile himself.

James looked almost as upset as he had looked when he found out that he and Lily had been killed. He slumped back into the chair, crestfallen.

"Out! OUT!"

Uncle Vernon seized Harry around the waist and threw him into the hall.

When Aunt Petunia and Dudley had run out with their arms over their faces, Uncle Vernon slammed the door shut. They could hear the letters still streaming into the room, bouncing off the walls and floor.

"That does it," said Uncle Vernon, trying to speak calmly but pulling great tufts out of his mustache at the same time. I want you all back here in five minutes ready to leave. We're going away. Just pack some clothes. No arguments!"

"He's making them leave the house?" Sirius said, incredulously.

"Why is he so keen on keeping Harry from going to Hogwarts?" Lily asked "Isn't it better if you go to Hogwarts? You'd be away most of the year if you stay at Hogwarts during Christmas and Easter."

"Yes, but when I come back home over the summer, I'd be a trained wizard." Harry explained.

He looked so dangerous with half his mustache missing that no one dared argue. Ten minutes later they had wrenched their way through the boarded-up doors and were in the car, speeding toward the highway.

Dudley was sniffling in the back seat; his father had hit him round the head for holding them up while he tried to pack his television, VCR, and computer in his sports bag.

"That kid needs to hear the word 'No' more often!" Remus said, with uncharacteristic animosity.

They drove. And they drove. Even Aunt Petunia didn't dare ask where they were going.

"There you go again. Why doesn't she stand up to that man?" Lily said vehemently.

Every now and then Uncle Vernon would take a sharp turn and drive in the opposite direction for a while. "Shake'em off... shake 'em off," he would mutter whenever he did this.

They didn't stop to eat or drink all day. By nightfall Dudley was howling. He'd never had such a bad day in his life. He was hungry, he'd missed five television programs he'd wanted to see, and he'd never gone so long without blowing up an alien on his computer.

"Muggles have really strange ways to entertain themselves, don't they?" Sirius asked, turning to James. He hadn't spoken a word since he had found out that his son wasn't a Quidditch prodigy like the rest of his family. He was still sulking with his arms crossed across his chest.

Lily rolled her eyes at him.

Harry couldn't wait to see his expression when he found out the truth.

Uncle Vernon stopped at last outside a gloomy-looking hotel on the outskirts of a big city. Dudley and Harry shared a room with twin beds and damp, musty sheets. Dudley snored but Harry stayed awake, sitting on the windowsill, staring down at the lights of passing cars and wondering...

They ate stale cornflakes and cold tinned tomatoes on toast for breakfast the next day. They had just finished when the owner of the hotel came over to their table.

"They're probably getting flooded with letters." Remus predicted.

"'Scuse me, but is one of you Mr. H. Potter? Only I got about an 'undred of these at the front desk."

She held up a letter so they could read the green ink address:

Mr. H. Potter

Room 17

Railview Hotel

Cokeworth

Harry made a grab for the letter but Uncle Vernon knocked his hand out of the way. The woman stared.

"I'll take them," said Uncle Vernon, standing up quickly and following her from the dining room.

"Why doesn't he just give up and save all of us some time?" Sirius said impatiently.

Wouldn't it be better just to go home, dear?" Aunt Petunia suggested timidly, hours later, but Uncle Vernon didn't seem to hear her. Exactly what he was looking for, none of them knew. He drove them into the middle of a forest, got out, looked around, shook his head, got back in the car, and off they went again. The same thing happened in the middle of a plowed field, halfway across a suspension bridge, and at the top of a multilevel parking garage.

"This is ridiculous, does he eventually give up?" Lily asked Harry.

Harry just grinned at her.

"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?"

"See! Even the flobberworm realizes it!" Sirius said.

Dudley asked Aunt Petunia dully, late that afternoon. Uncle Vernon had parked at the coast, locked them all inside the car, and disappeared.

It started to rain. Great drops beat on the roof of the car. Dudley sniveled.

"It's Monday," he told his mother. "The Great Humberto's on tonight. I want to stay somewhere with a television."

"The miracles keep happening. The flobberworm knows the days of the week! Can he also tell time?" Sirius asked Harry sarcastically, as Lily and Remus laughed. James still had a scowl on his face.

Monday. This reminded Harry of something. If it was Monday - and you could usually count on Dudley to know the days the week, because of television –

"Oh, that explain it." Sirius added.

then tomorrow, Tuesday, was Harry's eleventh birthday.

"That's wonderful!" Lily said cheerfully.

"Lily, you do realize that the Dursleys are probably ust going to ingore it, right?" Remus said warily.

Of course, his birthdays were never exactly fun - last year, the Dursleys had given him a coat hanger and a pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks.

"This is unbelievable! They can't even be nice to you on your birthday!" Sirius roared, his voice echoing around the room. "If you were with me I'd have thrown you the best birthday parties ever. Ask James, my parties are bloody brilliant."

Lily was looking at Sirius with gratitude. "Maybe things will be better when you eventually meet him, Sirius. You could ask him to live with you."

"Of course , I'll ask him to live with me the minute I see him!" Sirius said with certainity.

Still, you weren't eleven every day.

Uncle Vernon was back and he was smiling. He was also carrying a long, thin package

"What, a broomstick?" Sirius asked stupidly.

"I really doubt that." Lily said laughing.

and didn't answer Aunt Petunia when she asked what he'd bought.

"Found the perfect place!" he said. "Come on! Everyone out!"

It was very cold outside the car. Uncle Vernon was pointing at what looked like a large rock way out at sea. Perched on top of the rock was the most miserable little shack you could imagine. One thing was certain, there was no television in there.

"It's still not good enough to hide from a Hogwarts owl, Dursley!" Lily said happily.

"Storm forecast for tonight!" said Uncle Vernon gleefully, clapping his hands together. "And this gentleman's kindly agreed to lend us his boat!"

A toothless old man came ambling up to them, pointing, with a rather wicked grin, at an old rowboat bobbing in the iron-gray water below them.

"I've already got us some rations," said Uncle Vernon, "so all aboard!"

It was freezing in the boat. Icy sea spray and rain crept down their necks and a chilly wind whipped their faces. After what seemed like hours they reached the rock, where Uncle Vernon, slipping and sliding, led the way to the broken-down house.

"All this fuss for a stinking letter." Remus mumbled, shaking his head.

"It wasn't just a letter. It was the first time I broke free." Harry said earnestly.

Remus smiled at him, relieved that he had gotten past the Dursley phase of his life.

The inside was horrible; it smelled strongly of seaweed, the wind whistled through the gaps in the wooden walls, and the fireplace was damp and empty. There were only two rooms.

"If they make you sleep outside.." Sirius growled, reaching for his wand.

Uncle Vernon's rations turned out to be a bag of chips each and four bananas.

"I'd hardly call those rations!" Lily said.

He tried to start a fire but the empty chip bags just smoked and shriveled up.

"Could do with some of those letters now, eh?" he said cheerfully.

"Lets see who's laughing when the letter's come, Dursley." Sirius snarled.

He was in a very good mood. Obviously he thought nobody stood a chance of reaching them here in a storm to deliver mail. Harry privately agreed, though the thought didn't cheer him up at all.

"Don't worry." Lily whispered, subconciously leaning towards the journal.

As night fell, the promised storm blew up around them. Spray from the high waves splattered the walls of the hut and a fierce wind rattled the filthy windows. Aunt Petunia found a few moldy blankets in the second room and made up a bed for Dudley on the moth-eaten sofa. She and Uncle Vernon went off to the lumpy bed next door, and Harry was left to find the softest bit of floor he could and to curl up under the thinnest, most ragged blanket.

"That foul..." Lily began but stopped when Harry found her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. She calmed down immiditely and gave Harry a small smile.

The storm raged more and more ferociously as the night went on. Harry couldn't sleep. He shivered and turned over, trying to get comfortable, his stomach rumbling with hunger. Dudley's snores were drowned by the low rolls of thunder that started near midnight. The lighted dial of Dudley's watch, which was dangling over the edge of the sofa on his fat wrist, told Harry he'd be eleven in ten minutes' time. He lay and watched his birthday tick nearer, wondering if the Dursleys would remember at all, wondering where the letter writer was now.

"No one should have to spend their birthday like this." Lily said, her voice full of sadness.

Five minutes to go. Harry heard something creak outside. He hoped the roof wasn't going to fall in, although he might be warmer if it did.

"Maybe it's an owl." Sirius said hopefully.

Four minutes to go. Maybe the house in Privet Drive would be so full of letters when they got back that he'd be able to steal one somehow.

Three minutes to go. Was that the sea, slapping hard on the rock like that? And (two minutes to go) what was that funny crunching noise? Was the rock crumbling into the sea?

"A boat, maybe?" Remus asked, the suspense was building. Even James was sitting up on his seat now.

One minute to go and he'd be eleven. Thirty seconds... twenty ... ten...

nine - maybe he'd wake Dudley up, just to annoy him - three... two...

one...

BOOM.

"What the- " Sirius said, startled. He had jumped a foot in the air when the voice reading the journals had read out the 'BOOM'.

The whole shack shivered and Harry sat bolt upright, staring at the door. Someone was outside, knocking to come in.

"Yes! Someone's here finally." Remus said punching the air with his fist.

"About time too."Sirius said, falling back into his chair with relief."Bet it's Dumbledore."

"No, I think it's McGonagall." Lily said."Still want to bet?" she asked raising her eyebrows at Sirius. Apparently, she hadn't forgiven Sirius for being right about the cat being McGonagall.

"Alright. Loser buys everyone a sundae." Sirius said.