Dudley Dursley had had a very enjoyable summer indeed. His parents, Vernon and Petunia had bought him a new gold identity bracelet and a PC as a welcome-home-for-the-summer present. In addition, Ron had got his father who worked at the ministry to find out whether or not Dudley had inherited James and Lily Potter's gold, and, as their own only surviving relative, he had. So he was now, presumably, quite wealthy. He was eager to arrive at Gringott's and see how much he actually had.
He had also met up with the rest of his old gang—Piers, Dennis, Gordon and Malcolm. They spent most days during the holiday together causing mischief and beating up kids from other neighborhoods. Dudley had been sternly warned that magic outside of Hogwarts could mean expulsion, so he was annoyed that he couldn't amaze his friends with spells, but, at least you didn't need magic to beat people up.
He gave Rupert Delaney a black eye, pushed Graham Pilkington into a pond and threw young Julian McKenzie into a wheelie-bin and rolled it down the street. All in all, it had been a fun holidays, but he was eager to return to Hogwarts and give Malfoy or Nott another beating.
He was waiting for Ron to come and pick him up. Ron had invited Dudley to spent the last week of the holidays at his house and then go to Diagon Alley together. They planned to meet Dean, the third of their trip, there.
Mr. Weasley, accompanied by Ron arrived to pick Dudley up at midday. Vernon had smirked a little at the beat-up blue Ford Anglia, but had shook hands rather stiffly with Ron's dad, who introduced himself as Arthur Weasley.
"I say you've got a fine house," Arthur said, pumping Vernon's house up and down. "I see you have a teddy-vision receiver. They run off eckletricity, don't they?" he said. "I have a keen interest in eckletricity. I collect plugs myself—Molly says I'm mad, but we all need our interests."
He was gazing around the garden and looked like he was itching to go and examine Petunia's collection of garden gnomes.
Dudley said goodbye to his mother and father, hoped in the Ford and off they went to the Burrow. It was quite along way to Ottery St. Catchpole in Devon. Dudley and Ron passed the time by telling each other about their holidays and playing exploding snap—Arthur put an end to this game when an explosion made him veer briefly but excitingly into the path of oncoming traffic.
They finally arrived. Dudley stretched when he climbed out the car and gazed at the Weasley house. He was pleased to see that it wasn't as nice as his own.
It looked as though it had once been a large stone pigpen, but extra rooms had been added here and there until it was several stories high and so crooked it looked as though it were held up by magic (which Harry reminded himself, it probably was). Four or five chimneys were perched on top of the red roof. A lopsided sign stuck in the ground near the entrance read, THE BURROW. Around the front door lay a jumble of rubber boots and a very rusty cauldron. Several fat brown chickens were pecking their way around the yard.
"It's not much," said Ron.
"Molly dear, we're back!" Arthur called to a plump, red-haired woman with a kind face who was scattering feed to some chickens.
She hurried over. "You must be Dudley," she said, holding her hand out to him.
Dudley shook it.
"Ron told us all about you. It's good to meet you at last, and of course, you know Fred and George?"
The twins had appeared outside the house, both grinning. "Hey, Dud, punch any more dark wizards over the holidays?" Fred asked.
Dudley grinned. The twins seemed to find it especially amusing and impressive that he had punched Voldemort on what remained of his nose.
"Now, Fred, no talk of dark wizards. Go and get the table ready, go on!"
Molly Weasley, it turned out, was an amazing cook. Dudley had second helps of everything, and then decided to have thirds. Percy Weasley had joined them for dinner and greeted Dudley politely but with none of the warmth that the twins had. Dudley didn't like him much, if he wasn't Ron's brother and older than he was, Dudley knew he would have beaten him up before now.
There was also a small, red-haired girl who chattered loudly with the twins.
"Ginny," Ron said. "You'll get sick of her pretty quickly."
Ron was right. She followed them all around trying to join in with whatever they were going. She stood on the sidelines watching mournfully when Fred, George, Ron and Dudley played two on two quidditch and tried to help, getting in the way more than anything, when Fred and George planned to capture some gnomes to bring back to Hogwarts.
"We're wondering what would happen if we released them in the Great Hall," George told Dudley as he pulled a gnome out of the Wellington boot it had been hiding in and dropped it in a sack.
"Just gotta keep these hidden from mum, she'll go barmy."
Dudley slept on the floor in Ron's room. Ron's room was covered from floor to ceiling in posters of a quidditch team wearing bright orange robes. "Chudley Cannons," Ron explained. "My team, dad got us tickets from work a couple of seasons ago. We're hoping he can do the same when the World Cup comes to England in a few years."
Their time at the burrow was spent relaxing and taking it eas. Ron had completed most of his homework before Dudley arrived and let Dudley copy.
"It's probably mostly wrong though," Ron warned.
"At least I'll have something to hand it," Dudley said, scribbling furiously about the use of wolfsbane in potions.
The Weasleys may have been poor, but Dudley thought that they lived in a most exciting house. Dudley got a shock the first time he looked in the mirror over the kitchen mantelpiece and it shouted, "Tuck your shirt in, scruffy!" The ghoul in the attic howled and dropped pipes whenever he felt things were getting too quiet, and small explosions from Fred and George's bedroom were considered perfectly normal.
After a few days at The Burrow, their Hogwarts letters arrived.
"Letters from school," said Mr. Weasley, passing Dudley and Ron identical envelopes of yellowish parchment, addressed in green ink. "Dumbledore already knows you're here, Dudley - doesn't miss a trick, that man. You two've got them, too," he added, as Fred and George ambled in, still in their pajamas.
For a few minutes there was silence as they all read their letters. Dudley's told him to catch the Hogwarts Express as usual from King's Cross station on September first. There was also a list of the new books he'd need for the coming year.
SECOND-YEAR STUDENTS WILL REQUIRE:
The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 by Miranda Goshawk
Break with a Banshee by Gilderoy Lockhart
Gadding with Ghouls by Gilderoy Lockhart
Holidays with Hags by Gilderoy Lockhart
43 Travels with Trolls by Gilderoy Lockhart
Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart
Wanderings with Werewolves by Gilderoy Lockhart
Year with the Yeti by Gilderoy Lockhart
Fred, who had finished his own list, peered over at Harry's.
"You've been told to get all Lockhart's books, too!" he said. "The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher must be a fan - bet it's a witch.".
At this point, Fred caught his mother's eye and quickly busied himself with the marmalade.
"That lot won't come cheap," said George, with a quick look at his parents. "Lockhart's books are really expensive..."
"Well, we'll manage," said Mrs. Weasley, but she looked worried. "I expect we'll be able to pick up a lot of Ginny's things secondhand."
"Oh, are you starting at Hogwarts this year?" Dudley asked Ginny.
"Yeah, I can't wait," she said, brightly. "Fred and George have promised to show me some of the secret passages!"
Fred and George looked like they regretted this promise as they gave each other a meaningful glance.
"I hope you're not going to lead your sister astray," Molly said sternly. "It's bad enough that Ron has decided to follow your footsteps."
Before either of the twins could say something, Percy arrived. He was already dressed, his Hogwarts prefect badge pinned to his sweater vest.
"Morning, all," said Percy briskly. "Lovely day."
He sat down in the only remaining chair but leapt up again almost immediately, pulling from underneath him a molting, gray feather duster - at least, that was what Dudley thought it was, until he saw that it was breathing.
"Errol!" said Ron, taking the limp owl from Percy and extracting a letter from under its wing. "Finally - he's got Dean's answer. I wrote to him saying we can meet up in Diagon Alley."
He carried Errol to a perch just inside the back door and tried to stand him on it, but Errol flopped straight off again so Ron lay him on the draining board instead, muttering, "Pathetic." Then he ripped open Dean's letter and read it out loud:
"`Dear Ron, and Dudley if you're there,
"Glad you're having a good summer. I haven't told my mum anything what happened—I don't want to worry her. Are you two going to try out for the Quidditch team? I don't think mum will buy me a broom so I can't. Homework has been a nightmare—I hated Snape's potions essay. We're going to London next Wednesday to buy my new books. Why don't we meet in Diagon Alley?
"Let me know what's happening as soon as you can. From Dean.'"
"Well, that fits in nicely, we can go and get all your things then, too," said Mrs. Weasley, starting to clear the table. "What're you all up to today?"
Harry, Ron, Fred, and George were planning to go up the hill to a small paddock the Weasleys owned. It was surrounded by trees that blocked it from view of the village below, meaning that they could practice Quidditch there, as long as they didn't fly too high.
They couldn't use real Quidditch balls, which would have been hard to explain if they had escaped and flown away over the village; instead they threw apples for one another to catch. Dudley rode his Nimbus 2000 which he had got back at the end of last term and was easily the best broom. Ron's old Shooting Star was often outstripped by passing butterflies.
Five minutes later they were marching up the hill, broomsticks over their shoulders. They had asked Percy if he wanted to join them, but he had said he was busy. Dudley had only seen Percy at mealtimes so far; he stayed shut in his room the rest of the time.
"Wish I knew what he was up to," said Fred, frowning. "He's not himself. His exam results came the day before you did; twelve O.W.L.s and he hardly gloated at all."
"Ordinary Wizarding Levels," George explained, seeing Dudley's puzzled look. "Bill got twelve, too. If we're not careful, we'll have another Head Boy in the family. I don't think I could stand the shame."
Bill was the oldest Weasley brother. He and the next brother, Charlie, had already left Hogwarts. Dudley had never met either of them, but knew that Charlie was in Romania studying dragons and Bill in Egypt working for the wizard's bank, Gringotts.
"Dunno how Mum and Dad are going to afford all our school stuff this year," said George after a while. "Five sets of Lockhart books! And Ginny needs robes and a wand and everything..."
Dudley didn't reply. He knew that he could afford it. His dad had given him a generous amount of money to change at Gringott's, plus he had whatever was in the Potters' vault. He hoped it was a lot. He knew James Potter, his uncle, owned an invisibility cloak, so he must have been quite wealthy.
Mrs. Weasley woke them all early the following Wednesday. After a quick half a dozen bacon sandwiches each, they pulled on their coats and Mrs. Weasley took a flowerpot off the kitchen mantelpiece and peered inside.
"We're running low, Arthur," she sighed. "We'll have to buy some more today... Ah well, guests first! After you, Dudley dear!"
And she offered him the flowerpot.
Dudley stared at them all watching him.
"W-what am I supposed to do?" he stammered.
"He's never traveled by Floo powder," said Ron suddenly. "Sorry, Dud, I forgot."
"Never?" said Mr. Weasley. "But how did you get to Diagon Alley to buy your school things last year?"
"My dad drove,"
"Really? Well, floo powder's a lot quicker, dear, but goodness me, if you've never used it before-"
"He'll be all right, Mum," said Fred. "Dudley, watch us first."
He took a pinch of glittering powder out of the flowerpot, stepped up to the fire, and threw the powder into the flames.
With a roar, the fire turned emerald green and rose higher than Fred, who stepped right into it, shouted, "Diagon Alley!" and vanished.
"You must speak clearly, dear," Mrs. Weasley told Dudley as George dipped his hand into the flowerpot. "And be sure to get out at the right grate..."
"Sounds easy enough," Dudley said.
"You go after Arthur," said Mrs. Weasley. "Now, when you get into the fire, say where you're going."
"And keep your elbows tucked in," Ron advised.
"And your eyes shut," said Mrs. Weasley. "The soot-"
"Don't fidget," said Ron. "Or you might well fall out of the wrong fireplace-"
"But don't panic and get out too early; wait until you see Fred and George."
Trying hard to bear all this in mind, Dudley took a pinch of Floo powder and walked to the edge of the fire. He took a deep breath, scattered the powder into the flames, and stepped forward; the fire felt like a warm breeze; he opened his mouth and immediately swallowed a lot of hot ash.
"To ...no, what do I say?" he said, and immediately vanished in a puff of smoke.
