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"Dudley?" Harry repeated. "What are you doing?"

"Er--I…" Dudley stammered.

"Yes?" asked Harry expectantly. "Were you trying to get me into trouble with your parents? I really don't need that right now. Enough of talking. Get out." He pointed towards the doorway.

"Why?" questioned Dudley. He knew he was messing around more than he needed to, but it was just so fun annoying his freak cousin. Besides, he wasn't finished exploring the room.

Harry didn't answer. Instead he began taking long strides towards his trunk, and when he had reached his destination, he pulled out the silvery cloak that Dudley had examined earlier.

"Wh-what are you going to do?" asked Dudley in a quavering voice.

Still Harry said nothing. He pulled the cloak over himself--and disappeared. Dudley stared at the spot where Harry had been standing, his mouth agape. Suddenly he felt someone trying to push him to the doorway. He stood still, afraid to move.

"Dudley," he heard Harry hiss from behind him. "Get out."

"No," the blond boy said, planting his feet firmly onto the floor. "I haven't finished exploring." He waited for Harry's angry retort, but it didn't come. He heard his cousin move around the room and pick up the stick of wood lying on the bedside table. It suddenly pointed at him.

"Now," Harry's voice said. The black-haired boy suddenly reappeared. "Dudley, do you even know what this is?" he asked.

"A--a wand?" Dudley guessed, trembling.

"Yes," Harry confirmed. "Now you see that it is pointed at you. What exactly does that mean?"

"You--you can't do magic when you're in the house anyway, you can't do anything to me--" Dudley protested.

"Who knows?" Harry asked with flaming green eyes.

"Your--your ministry will find out," the fat boy continued. "They know you're not allowed to do magic when you're not at school, H--whatever you call that place--"

"The Ministry," Harry snapped, "has more important matters on its hands. Now please get out."

Dudley ran out of the room, frightened by Harry's anger. He wondered about the silvery cloak. It was obviously magical. But Harry wasn't allowed to use magic. How come that ministry hadn't sent him a letter about using that cloak yet?

The doorbell rang suddenly, and he heard his parents running to answer it. He stood behind his parents as the door opened. An icy voice came out of the gathering darkness.

"We're looking for Mr. Harry Potter."

Dudley's father froze. "Ex--excuse me? There's no one here by that name."

"Yes there is, Muggle," the voice spat contemptuously. "Move out of the way. I'm sure Potter wouldn't want anyone else to die on his account."

Mr. Dursley's eyes widened with fear, and he stepped back. Harry ran down the stairs with his wand in his hand. As soon as he spotted the visitor, he froze.

"What do you want?" Harry asked in a wrathful voice.

The sleek, blond-haired man glanced at Harry with freezing gray eyes. "Hello, Potter," he said. "I am here to take you to my Master."

"Oh, really?" Harry asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And why should I go to him? So I can be killed and he can start his domain over the entire wizarding world?"

"No, because I'm sure you don't want your Mudblood friend to die," answered the man. He snapped his fingers and two men in heavy black robes came to the doorstep, dragging Harry's brunette friend, who was unconscious.

Harry leapt back instinctively. "Hermione?" he gasped in horror.

"That's right," the man said, smirking. "Now either you come with me--or she dies."

"Let her go first," Harry snapped.

"There is no time to waste, Potter. You come with me or my Master will come himself. I'm sure that you don't want your Muggle relatives here to die because of your stubbornness, now do you?"

Harry shook his head slowly, but his green eyes blazed. "Fine." He walked towards the man. The sleek blond quickly took out his own wand and muttered "Stupefy." Harry fell back unconscious.

He then turned to the Dursleys. "You will also come," he said. They nodded, frightened. The last thing Dudley remembered was a red jet of light shooting towards him.