A week after Aunt Marge's visit, his father dropped him off outside The Leaky Cauldron, promising to be back to pick him up in the evening. While Dudley bought his school supplies, Vernon was going to treat Petunia to a West End Performance.

Dudley entered The Leaky Cauldron. Tom, the barkeeper who looked like a toothless walnut nodded a greeting. The bar was almost empty. There was just a pair of middle aged witches sat at a table and a lone warlock hunched over the bar.

One of the witches nudged the other and pointed at Dudley. "I read your interview, boy," one of them croaked. "You don't look like much, but there must be something about you if Lockhart has taken you under his wing."

"I dunno, Gladys ... he's a big healthy boy. Took a lot of guys to stand with Lockhart to face that serpent ..."

Dudley felt put out at being said he didn't look like much, but he also felt pleased at having being recognised. Thinking about what the two had said, he caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror which was hung on the wall.

He was fat, he thought, tilting his head to the side. Though the constant walking up the stairs at Hogwarts had stopped him from ballooning to an obscene size, he was still the fattest boy in his year—though, like his father, he did have some natural bulk, strength and muscles buried under the flab.

He thought about the lie he had told Marge that he did boxing and somewhat thought it might be worth taking up. He had often used his fists rather than his wand—or at least a combination of the two. If he did a bit of boxing training, he would get into a better shape and be able to beat people up easier. As he tapped the bricks with his wand and entered Diagon Alley, Dudley made up his mind to get into better shape.

Look at Lockhart, he thought—he was dashingly handsome which definitely helped him in his career.

Dudley grinned as he reentered the wizarding world. The familiar shops of Diagon Alley lined the street and towering above it all was the imposing white building of Gringott's.

Dudley had an hour until he was due to meet Ron and Dean outside Fortesque's Ice Cream Parlour, so he headed to the bank to get some gold. As always, Uncle Vernon had given him a few hundred in muggle money to exchange, but unbeknownst to his parents, Dudley also had a small fortune in his bank—courtesy of the Potters. He had inherited their gold as he was their last living descendent. So, Dudley kept the muggle money to spend when he was back home and dipped into his wizarding fortune to buy his school supplies.

He got a sackful of golden galleons, silver sickles and bronze knuts and headed to the ice cream parlour to wait for his friends. Deciding he might as well get started on his newfound desire to lose weight now, he ordered a low-fat vanilla ice cream and a glass of orange juice.

He sat back relaxing and enjoying the sun and watching the wizarding world go by. He saw a few students he recognised. Oliver Wood, captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team headed into the quidditch shop. Neville Longbottom passed, trailing behind a formiddable looking witch wearing a hat with a stuffed vulture in it. He also saw Ernie Macmillan, walking alonside a stout, smartly-dressed wizard carrying a cane. Dudley gave Ernie the finger as he passed, but the Hufflepuff didn't notice or, at least, pretended not to notice.

After 20 minutes, he heard a voice calling his name. It was Dean, hurrying over from the bank.

"Hey, Dud, good summer?" he asked after ordering his own triple-scoop ice cream.

Dudley stared wistfully at Dena's ice cream, wishing he had waited until tomorrow to start his new diet.

"Yeah, pretty good. I enjoyed giving that interview to Rita."

Dean laughed. "Is Lockhart's book out yet? Hope he mentions my bludgeoning curse. I found a new curse I want to try next year—the babbling curse, look."

Dean showed an small, old book called "Magical Malice" to Dudley. "Looks like it could fun, eh?"

"Yeah, cool," Dudley said, deciding they'd practice that. It seemed like it would have its uses.

Dean was just telling Dudley about going to see the England football team play when the Weasleys turned up in a tidal wave of red hair and hand-me down robes.

"Hey, Dud!" Ron called, leading the pack.

There was Mrs. Weasley (short, plump, kind-faced) Mr. Weasley (tall, thin bolding), the twins, Fred and George (identical, short, stocky and grinning), Ginny (short, pretty, cheerful and chatting amimatedly with her dad) and Percy (tall, thin with neat hair and horn-rimmed glasses).

"Dudley, good to see you!" Arthur Weasley greeted. "And you too Dean, glad you're both well."

After they caught up and greeted each other, Molly led the way to the book store as their first destination. Dudley fell in line with Arthur, who worked for the Ministry of Magic.

"I read you were going to raid the Malfoys," he said.

"All thanks to you telling the world about Lucius," Arhur said. "As a matter of fact, we did—I found an illegal flying carpet—only worthy of a caution, unfortunately—and we found a cursed pair of slippers which we confiscated and some books containing dark spells, but nothing too incriminating."

"Nothing to land him in jail, then?" Dudley asked, disappointed.

"Sadly not, but it's all building a case against him being a dark wizard. The spell books contained some very disturbing curses which, frankly, should be illegal—I mean, if the crucio curse is outlawed then the blood-boiling hex should be."

"And what about, well, what I said—him having the diary?"

"Ah, now that doesn't bode well for Lucius," Arthur said, brightly. "Time was, he could cosy up to the Minister and those in charge. Now, Cornelius Fudge is distancing himself completely from the Malfoys. He can't rely on the Minister to vouch for him now. Of course, it was your word against his, but I've managed to pursuade that house elf Ron told me about, Dobby, to give evidence."

"Cool," Dudley said.

"Indeed, so it's looking very likely that Lucius Malfoy is going to be facing a spell in Azkaban. Some are pressing for him to face a retrail as a Death Eater, but I don't think that'll stick—no evidence. But, we definitely get him for posession of a dark object and charges for endangering the school."

Dudley got a surprise when they arrived at the bookstore and he looked in at the bookshop window. Instead of the usual display of gold-embossed spellbooks the size of paving slabs, there was a large iron cage behind the glass that held about a hundred copies of The Monster Book of Monsters. Torn pages were flying everywhere as the books grappled with each other, locked together in furious wrestling matches and snapping aggressively.

Dudley pulled his booklist out of his pocket and consulted it for the first time. The Monster Book of Monsters was listed as the required book for Care of Magical Creatures.

As they entered Flourish and Blotts, the manager came hurrying toward him.

"Hogwarts?" he said abruptly. "Come to get your new books?"

"Yes," said Dudley, "I need -"

"Get out of the way," said the manager impatiently, brushing Dudley aside. He drew on a pair of very thick gloves, picked up a large, knobbly walking stick, and proceeded toward the door of the Monster Books' cage.

"We need three of those!"Ron said, brightly.

The manager nearly cried when he stepped into the cage. There was a flurry of torn pages as the books swarmed his ankles, snapping gleefully at it. "Stop it! Stop it!" he cried, poking some away and grabbing three copies.

He bound the books hastily in tape and thrust them at Ron, Dean and Dudley. "I'm never stocking these again. Never!"

"I need Unfogging the Future by Cassandra Vablatsky." Dudley said.

"Three copies again," said Dean.

"Ah, starting Divination, are you?" said the manager, stripping off his gloves and leading them into the back of the shop, where there was a corner devoted to fortune-telling. A small table was stacked with volumes such as Predicting the Unpredictable: Insulate Yourself Against Shocks and Broken Balls: When Fortunes Turn Foul.

"Here you are," said the manager, who had climbed a set of steps to take down a thick, black-bound book. "Unfogging the Future. Very good guide to all your basic fortune-telling methods - palmistry, crystal balls, bird entrails. Anything else?"

After he had dealt with Dudley, Dean and Ron, the manager helped Ginny and then the twins and finally Percy find their books. While they waited, Dudley browsed the dark arts section but didn't see anything of interest—he already had a good book on curses. Ron and Dean were looking at the quidditch section, Dean looking at a book about the Holyhead Harpies.

Next, they all went to the Apothecary to replenish their cauldron supplies, then to Madam Malkins to get some new robes. They also went to the wand shop. The Weasleys had some gold left over from their trip to Egypt. After 20 minutes, they left, Ron proudly wielding a new wand (he had been using Charlie's old one). His new wand was fourteen inches, willow, containing one unicorn tail-hair. Dudley felt pleased that Ron got an ordinary wand—his own was quite rare, being one of Ollivander's old stock and containing a troll whisker.

"Hang, on, before we go to the quidditch shop, I want to get Scabbers looked at," Ron said as they passed the Magical Menagerie.

"What's up with him?" asked Dudley.

By answer, Ron pulled him out. Scabbers was looking thinner than usual and some tufts of his hair had fallen out.

"He's been like this for weeks, I dunno what's up with him."

Since the Magical Menageries was small, the rest of the Weasleys said they would meet at the Leaky Cauldron for some drinks and food in an hour. The twins took the chance to head to the joke shop with Ginny following them. Percy mumbled something about needing a new quill and Mr and Mrs Weasley walked hand-in-hand to a second hand gardening store.

Dudley, Ron and Dean entered the Magical Menagerie.

There wasn't much room inside. Every inch of wall was hidden by cages. It was smelly and very noisy because the occupants of these cages were all squeaking, squawking, jabbering, or hissing. The witch behind the counter was already advising a wizard on the care of double-ended newts, so Dudley, Ron, and Dean waited, examining the cages.

A pair of enormous purple toads sat gulping wetly and feasting on dead blowflies. A gigantic tortoise with a jewel-encrusted shell was glittering near the window. Poisonous orange snails were oozing slowly up the side of their glass tank, and a fat white rabbit kept changing into a silk top hat and back again with a loud popping noise. Then there were cats of every color, a noisy cage of ravens, a basket of funny custard-colored furballs that were humming loudly, and on the counter, a vast cage of sleek black rats that were playing some sort of skipping game using their long, bald tails.

The double-ended newt wizard left, and Ron approached the counter.

"It's my rat," he told the witch. "He's been a bit off-color ever since I brought him back from Egypt."

"Bang him on the counter," said the witch, pulling a pair of heavy black spectacles out of her pocket.

Ron lifted Scabbers out of his inside pocket and placed him next to the cage of his fellow rats, who stopped their skipping tricks and scuffled to the wire for a better took.

Like nearly everything Ron owned, Scabbers the rat was secondhand (he had once belonged to Ron's brother Percy) and a bit battered. Next to the glossy rats in the cage, he looked especially woebegone.

"Hm," said the witch, picking up Scabbers. "How old is this rat?"

"Dunno," said Ron. "Quite old. He used to belong to my brother."

"What powers does he have?" said the witch, examining Scabbers closely.

"Er -" The truth was that Scabbers had never shown the faintest trace of interesting powers. The witch's eyes moved from Scabbers's tattered left ear to his front paw, which had a toe missing, and tutted loudly.

"He's been through the mill, this one," she said.

"He was like that when Percy gave him to me," said Ron defensively.

"An ordinary common or garden rat like this can't be expected to live longer than three years or so," said the witch. "Now, if you were looking for something a bit more hard-wearing, you might like one of these -"

She indicated the black rats, who promptly started skipping again. Ron muttered, "Show-offs."

"Well, if you don't want a replacement, you can try this rat tonic," said the witch, reaching under the counter and bringing out a small red bottle.

"Okay," said Ron. "How much - OUCH!"

Ron buckled as something huge and orange came soaring from the top of the highest cage, landed on his head, and then propelled itself, spitting madly, at Scabbers.

"NO, CROOKSHANKS, NO!" cried the witch, but Scabbers shot from between her hands like a bar of soap, landed splay-legged on the floor, and then scampered for the door.

"Scabbers!" Ron shouted, racing out of the shop after him; Dudley followed.

It took them nearly ten minutes to catch Scabbers, who had taken refuge under a wastepaper bin outside Quality Quidditch Supplies. Ron stuffed the trembling rat back into his pocket and straightened up, massaging his head.

"What was that?"

"Looked like a tiger," Dudley said.

"There you are, you forgot this," Dean said, hurrying towards them. He was holding Ron's rat tonic in his hand.

"What are you doing?" a bossy voice said. They turned around, unsurprisingly it was Hermione, she was clutching a bunch of heavy looking bags.

"Hi Hermione,"

"Hello,"

"Good to see you,"

They all greeted.

Hermione was a friend of theres, while not exactly part of their circle, they often studied together and she had joined them in their adventures the last two years. She was the smartest girl in the year and Dudley had to admit he wouldn't have passed his classes without her.

"What's with all the bags?" Dudley asked, pointing at not one but three bulging bags in the chair next to her.

"Well, I'm taking more new subjects than you, aren't I," said Hermione. "Those are my books for Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, the Study of Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies -"

"What are you doing Muggle Studies for?" said Ron, rolling his eyes at Dudley and Dean. "You're Muggle-born! Your mum and dad are Muggles! You already know all about Muggles!"

"But it'll be fascinating to study them from the wizarding point of view," said Hermione earnestly.

"I thought about that," Dudley admitted. "Figured it'd be an easy pass, but it also means an extra bunch of homework."

"I've still got ten Galleons," Hermione said, checking her purse. "It's my birthday in September, and Mum and Dad gave me some money to get myself an early birthday present."

"How about a nice book? said Ron innocently.

"No, I don't think so," said Hermione composedly. "I really want a pet. I mean, Dudley's got his bat, Neville's got his toad and Ron's gotgot Errol -"

"I haven't," said Ron. "Errol's a family owl. All I've got is Scabbers." He held forward the rat he had just rescued.

"Well, I was thinking an owl because they're really useful."

"When you're done, we're all heading to the Leaky Cauldron in an hour if you want to join us," Ron said. "You can meet my family ... well, my mum and dad—you already know my brothers and Ginny."

Hermione smiled warmly. "Thanks Ron, I will do just that," and she turned and headed into the Magical Menagerie.

"Why don't we check out Quality Quidditch Supplies?" Dean said, pointing at the nearby store.

There was a large crowd gathered inside.

Curious to know what the crowd in the shop was staring at, Dudley forced his way through the crowd, elbowing and pushign anybody smaller than him out of the way until he glimpsed a newly erected podium, on which was mounted the most magnificent broom he had ever seen in his life.

"Came out earlier this summer- prototype -" a tall, blond witch was telling her companion.

"It's the fastest broom in the world, isn't it, Dad?" squeaked a boy younger than Dudley, who was swinging off his father's arm.

"Irish International Side's just put in an order for seven of these beauties!" the proprietor of the shop told the crowd. "And they're favorites for the World Cup!"

A large witch in front of Dudley moved, and he was able to read the sign next to the broom:

** THE FIREBOLT **

THIS STATE-OF-THE-ART RACING BROOM SPORTS A STREAM-LINED, SUPERFINE HANDLE OF ASH, TREATED WITH A DIAMOND-HARD POLISH AND HAND-NUMBERED WITH ITS OWN REGISTRATION NUMBER. EACH INDIVIDUALLY SELECTED BIRCH TWIG IN THE BROOMTAIL HAS BEEN HONED TO AERODYNAMIC PERFECTION, GIVING THE FIREBOLT UNSURPASSABLE BALANCE AND PINPOINT PRECISION. THE FIREBOLT HAS AN ACCELERATION OF 150 MILES AN HOUR IN TEN SECONDS AND INCORPORATES AN UNBREAKABLE BRAKING CHARM. PRICE ON REQUEST.

Price on request...Dudley didn't like to think how much gold the Firebolt would cost. He had never wanted anything as much in his whole life - but he already had a Nimbus 2000 that he had bought in his first year and he wasn't on the Gryffindor quidditch team. So it seemed pointless to empty his vault to buy it.

"You're getting a new wand aren't you, Dean?" Dudley asked

Dean, who was staring in awe at the Firebolt gave a jump.

"Yeah, mail order—a a Cleensweep 7"

"Nice," said Ron. "Fred and George are just on Cleansweep 5s. Are you trying out?"

They talked about quidditch on their way back to the Leaky Cauldron. Dean was going to try out for chaser and Dudley, who was first reserve last year, was trying out for beater again—though he knew he had little chance of unseating the twins who were both excellent players.

The Weasley family were already at the Leaky Cauldron, sat around three tables that had been bunched together. Percy was engrossed in a book while Ginny sneaked some sort of powder into his soup, the twins were nudging each other and grinning, Molly was pouring some drinks, Arhur was reading a newspaper and Hermione, who had joined them, was stroking a huge, orange cat.

"You bought that monster?" said Ron, his mouth hanging open.

"He's gorgeous, isn't he?" said Hermione, glowing.

That was a matter of opinion, thought Dudley. The cat's ginger fur was thick and fluffy, but it was definitely a bit bowlegged and its face looked grumpy and oddly squashed, as though it had run headlong into a brick wall. Now that Scabbers was out of sight, however, the cat was purring contentedly in Hermione's arms.

"Hermione, that thing nearly scalped me!" said Ron.

"He didn't mean to, did you, Crookshanks?" said Hermione.

"And what about Scabbers?" said Ron, pointing at the lump in his chest pocket. "He needs rest and relaxation! How's he going to get it with that thing around?"

They sat down on the empty seats. Dudley was opposite Arthur.

"Got everything you need?" Arthur said, putting down the Daily Prophet. Dudley saw an image of a tangle-haired man on the front page.

"He was on the muggle news," Dudley said, remembering.

"He would be—Sirius Black," Arhur said, nodding. "Escaped from Azkaban a few weeks ago."

"The wizarding prison?" Dudley remembered Hagrid had been sent there.

"First time anybody has ever escaped. Course, when things like this happen, people think You-Know-Who is behind it."

"Why?"

"Black was one of You-Know-Who's biggest followers."

Dudley looked at the picture of Sirius Black more carefully now. He had a face like a skull with matted, dirty black hair down to his shoulders. He looked deranged.

"What did he do?" Dean asked.

Arthur hesitated, he looked across at Molly who was preoccupied now with ordering some food and lowered his voice. "Don't tell Molly I told you this—she wouldn't approve. But I think you should know. He murdered 13 people—with one curse."

"Crumbs," said Dean, glancing at Dudley.

"13 people ..."

"With one curse ..." Dudley finished.

Dudley looked into the shadowed eyes of Sirius Black, the only part of the sunken face that seemed alive. Dudley had never met a vampire, but he had seen pictures of them in his Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, and Black, with his waxy white skin, looked just like one.

"How did he escape?" Dudley asked.

"Nobody knows," Arthur said. "But he must have used some very dark magic. He was You-Know-Who's right-hand man afterall. I expect You-Know-Who taught him some spells."

"No luck finding him then?" Dean asked.

Arthur shook his head. "None, the office is hectic at the moment—between the hunt for Black and Malfoy's upcoming trial, it's all hands on deck. It's lucky I could get the time off to come here."

They were interrupted by the arrival of their food. Molly had ordered a number of dishes that they could help themselves from.

Remembering his promise to diet, Dudley spooned some carrots and roast potatoes onto his plate along with a pair of yorkshire puddings and a slice of beef.

"Is that all your having, Dud?" Ron asked. He was eating with abandon.

"Yeah, well, I decided to diet this year."

Dean and Ron goggled at him as if he had just announced he planned on growing an extra head.

"What? I figured I'd try to lose weight. Why's that so shocking?"

"I think it's a good idea," Hermione, who was listening in said approvingly.

"See," Dudley said and shovelled a carrot into his mouth, just as Ron somehow shoved an entire sausage into his.