5 harry potter and the order of the phoenix JK rowling

EnhancedEdition
Withillustrations,animationsandannotationsthroughout.

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TONEIL,JESSICA,ANDDAVID,
WHOMAKEMYWORLDMAGICAL.
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TableofContents

CHAPTER1
DUDLEYDEMENTED
CHAPTER2
APECKOFOWLS
CHAPTER3
THEADVANCEGUARD
CHAPTER4
NUMBERTWELVE,GRIMMAULDPLACE
CHAPTER5
THEORDEROFTHEPHOENIX
CHAPTER6
THENOBLEANDMOSTANCIENTHOUSEOFBLACK
CHAPTER7

THEMINISTRYOFMAGIC
CHAPTER8
THEHEARING
CHAPTER9
THEWOESOFMRS.WEASLEY
CHAPTER10
LUNALOVEGOOD
CHAPTER11
TheSORTINGHAT’SNEWSONG
CHAPTER12
PROFESSORUMBRIDGE
CHAPTER13
DETENTIONWITHDOLORES
CHAPTER14
PERCYANDPADFOOT


CHAPTER15
THEHOGWARTSHIGHINQUISITOR
CHAPTER16
INTHEHOG’SHEAD
CHAPTER17
EDUCATIONALDECREENUMBERTWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER18
DUMBLEDORE’SARMY
CHAPTER19
THELIONANDTHESERPENT
CHAPTER20

HAGRID’STALE
Chapter21
THEEYEOFTHESNAKE
CHAPTER22
STMUNGO’SHOSPITALFORMAGICALMALADIESANDINJURIES


CHAPTER23
CHRISTMASONTHECLOSEDWARD
CHAPTER24
OCCLUMENCY
CHAPTER25
THEBEETLEATBAY
CHAPTER26
SEENANDUNFORESEEN
CHAPTER27
THECENTAURANDTHESNEAK
CHAPTER28
SNAPE’SWORSTMEMORY
CHAPTER29
CAREERADVICE
CHAPTER30
GRAWP


CHAPTER31
O.W.L.S
CHAPTER32
OUTOFTHEFIRE
CHAPTER33

FIGHTANDFLIGHT
CHAPTER34
THEDEPARTMENTOFMYSTERIES
CHAPTER35
BEYONDTHEVEIL
CHAPTER36
THEONLYONEHEEVERFEARED
CHAPTER37
THELOSTPROPHECY
CHAPTER38
THESECONDWARBEGINS



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CHAPTER1
DudleyDemented
Thehottestdayofthesummersofarwasdrawingtoacloseanda
drowsysilencelayoverthelarge,squarehousesofPrivetDrive.Cars
thatwereusuallygleamingstooddustyintheirdrivesandlawnsthat
wereonceemeraldgreenlayparchedandyellowing;theuseof
hosepipeshadbeenbannedduetodrought.Deprivedoftheirusual
car-washingandlawn-mowingpursuits,theinhabitantsofPrivet
Drivehadretreatedintotheshadeoftheircoolhouses,windows
thrownwideinthehopeoftemptinginanonexistentbreeze.The
onlypersonleftoutdoorswasateenageboywhowaslyingflatonhis

backinaflowerbedoutsidenumberfour.
Hewasaskinny,black-haired,bespectacledboywhohadthe
pinched,slightlyunhealthylookofsomeonewhohasgrownalotina
shortspaceoftime.Hisjeansweretornanddirty,hisT-shirtbaggy
andfaded,andthesolesofhistrainerswerepeelingawayfromthe
uppers.HarryPotter’sappearancedidnotendearhimtothe
neighbors,whowerethesortofpeoplewhothoughtscruffiness
oughttobepunishablebylaw,butashehadhiddenhimselfbehinda
largehydrangeabushthiseveninghewasquiteinvisibletopassersby.
Infact,theonlywayhewouldbespottedwasifhisUncleVernonor
AuntPetuniastucktheirheadsoutofthelivingroomwindowand
lookedstraightdownintotheflowerbedbelow.
Onthewhole,Harrythoughthewastobecongratulatedonhis
ideaofhidinghere.Hewasnot,perhaps,verycomfortablelyingon
thehot,hardearth,butontheotherhand,nobodywasglaringathim,
grindingtheirteethsoloudlythathecouldnothearthenews,or
shootingnastyquestionsathim,ashadhappenedeverytimehehad
triedsittingdowninthelivingroomandwatchingtelevisionwithhis


auntanduncle.
Almostasthoughthisthoughthadflutteredthroughtheopen
window,VernonDursley,Harry’suncle,suddenlyspoke.“Gladtosee
theboy’sstoppedtryingtobuttin.Whereisheanyway?”
“Idon’tknow,”saidAuntPetuniaunconcernedly.“Notinthe
house.”
UncleVernongrunted.
“Watchingthenews...”hesaidscathingly.“I’dliketoknowwhat
he’sreallyupto.Asifanormalboycareswhat’sonthenews—
Dudleyhasn’tgotacluewhat’sgoingon,doubtheknowswhothe

PrimeMinisteris!Anyway,it’snotasifthere’dbeanythingabouthis
lotonournews—”
“Vernon,shh!”saidAuntPetunia.“Thewindow’sopen!”
“Oh—yes—sorry,dear...”
TheDursleysfellsilent.HarrylistenedtoajingleaboutFruit’N
BranbreakfastcerealwhilehewatchedMrs.Figg,abatty,cat-loving
oldladyfromnearbyWisteriaWalk,ambleslowlypast.Shewas
frowningandmutteringtoherself.Harrywasverypleasedthathe
wasconcealedbehindthebush;Mrs.Figghadrecentlytakento
askinghimaroundforteawhenevershemethiminthestreet.She
hadroundedthecornerandvanishedfromviewbeforeUncle
Vernon’svoicefloatedoutofthewindowagain.
“Duddersoutfortea?”
“AtthePolkisses’,”saidAuntPetuniafondly.“He’sgotsomany
littlefriends,he’ssopopular...”
Harryrepressedasnortwithdifficulty.TheDursleysreallywere
astonishinglystupidabouttheirson,Dudley;theyhadswallowedall
hisdim-wittedliesabouthavingteawithadifferentmemberofhis
gangeverynightofthesummerholidays.Harryknewperfectlywell
thatDudleyhadnotbeentoteaanywhere;heandhisgangspent
everyeveningvandalizingtheplaypark,smokingonstreetcorners,
andthrowingstonesatpassingcarsandchildren.Harryhadseen
thematitduringhiseveningwalksaroundLittleWhinging;hehad
spentmostoftheholidayswanderingthestreets,scavenging
newspapersfrombinsalongtheway.


Theopeningnotesofthemusicthatheraldedtheseveno’clock
newsreachedHarry’searsandhisstomachturnedover.Perhaps
tonight—afteramonthofwaiting—wouldbethenight—

“Recordnumbersofstrandedholidaymakersfillairportsasthe
Spanishbaggage-handlers’strikereachesitssecondweek—”
“Give’emalifelongsiesta,Iwould,”snarledUncleVernonover
theendofthenewsreader’ssentence,butnomatter:Outsideinthe
flowerbed,Harry’sstomachseemedtounclench.Ifanythinghad
happened,itwouldsurelyhavebeenthefirstitemonthenews;death
anddestructionweremoreimportantthanstranded
holidaymakers...
Heletoutalong,slowbreathandstaredupatthebrilliantblue
sky.Everydaythissummerhadbeenthesame:thetension,the
expectation,thetemporaryrelief,andthenmountingtension
again...andalways,growingmoreinsistentallthetime,thequestion
ofwhynothinghadhappenedyet...
Hekeptlistening,justincasetherewassomesmallclue,not
recognizedforwhatitreallywasbytheMuggles—anunexplained
disappearance,perhaps,orsomestrangeaccident...butthebaggagehandlers’strikewasfollowedbynewsonthedroughtinthe
Southeast(“Ihopehe’slisteningnextdoor!”bellowedUncleVernon,
“withhissprinklersonatthreeinthemorning!”);thenahelicopter
thathadalmostcrashedinafieldinSurrey,thenafamousactress’s
divorcefromherfamoushusband(“asifwe’reinterestedintheir
sordidaffairs,”sniffedAuntPetunia,whohadfollowedthecase
obsessivelyineverymagazineshecouldlayherbonyhandson).
Harryclosedhiseyesagainstthenowblazingeveningskyasthe
newsreadersaid,“Andfinally,Bungythebudgiehasfoundanovel
wayofkeepingcoolthissummer.Bungy,wholivesattheFive
FeathersinBarnsley,haslearnedtowater-ski!MaryDorkinswentto
findoutmore...”
Harryopenedhiseyesagain.Iftheyhadreachedwater-skiing
budgerigars,therewasnothingelseworthhearing.Herolled
cautiouslyontohisfrontandraisedhimselfontohiskneesand

elbows,preparingtocrawloutfromunderthewindow.
Hehadmovedabouttwoincheswhenseveralthingshappened
inveryquicksuccession.


Aloud,echoingcrackbrokethesleepysilencelikeagunshot;a
catstreakedoutfromunderaparkedcarandflewoutofsight;a
shriek,abellowedoath,andthesoundofbreakingchinacamefrom
theDursleys’livingroom,andasthoughHarryhadbeenwaitingfor
thissignal,hejumpedtohisfeet,atthesametimepullingfromthe
waistbandofhisjeansathinwoodenwandasifhewereunsheathing
asword.Butbeforehecoulddrawhimselfuptofullheight,thetopof
hisheadcollidedwiththeDursleys’openwindow,andtheresultant
crashmadeAuntPetuniascreamevenlouder.
Harryfeltasifhisheadhadbeensplitintwo;eyesstreaming,he
swayed,tryingtofocusonthestreetandspotthesourceofthenoise,
buthehadbarelystaggereduprightagainwhentwolargepurple
handsreachedthroughtheopenwindowandclosedtightlyaround
histhroat.
“Put—it—away!”UncleVernonsnarledintoHarry’sear.“Now!
Before—anyone—sees!”
“Get—off—me!”Harrygasped;forafewsecondsthey
struggled,Harrypullingathisuncle’ssausage-likefingerswithhis
lefthand,hisrightmaintainingafirmgriponhisraisedwand.Then,
asthepaininthetopofHarry’sheadgaveaparticularlynastythrob,
UncleVernonyelpedandreleasedHarryasthoughhehadreceived
anelectricshock—someinvisibleforceseemedtohavesurged
throughhisnephew,makinghimimpossibletohold.
Panting,Harryfellforwardoverthehydrangeabush,
straightenedup,andstaredaround.Therewasnosignofwhathad

causedtheloudcrackingnoise,buttherewereseveralfacespeering
throughvariousnearbywindows.Harrystuffedhiswandhastilyback
intohisjeansandtriedtolookinnocent.
“Lovelyevening!”shoutedUncleVernon,wavingatMrs.
NumberSeven,whowasglaringfrombehindhernetcurtains.“Did
youhearthatcarbackfirejustnow?GavePetuniaandmequitea
turn!”
Hecontinuedtogrininahorrible,manicwayuntilallthe
curiousneighborshaddisappearedfromtheirvariouswindows,then
thegrinbecameagrimaceofrageashebeckonedHarrybacktoward
him.
Harrymovedafewstepscloser,takingcaretostopjustshortof
thepointatwhichUncleVernon’soutstretchedhandscouldresume


theirstrangling.
“Whatthedevildoyoumeanbyit,boy?”askedUncleVernonin
acroakyvoicethattrembledwithfury.
“WhatdoImeanbywhat?”saidHarrycoldly.Hekeptlooking
leftandrightupthestreet,stillhopingtoseethepersonwhohad
madethecrackingnoise.
“Makingaracketlikeastartingpistolrightoutsideour—”
“Ididn’tmakethatnoise,”saidHarryfirmly.
AuntPetunia’sthin,horseyfacenowappearedbesideUncle
Vernon’swide,purpleone.Shelookedlivid.
“Whywereyoulurkingunderourwindow?”
“Yes—yes,goodpoint,Petunia!Whatwereyoudoingunderour
window,boy?”
“Listeningtothenews,”saidHarryinaresignedvoice.
Hisauntanduncleexchangedlooksofoutrage.

“Listeningtothenews!Again?”
“Well,itchangeseveryday,yousee,”saidHarry.
“Don’tyoubecleverwithme,boy!Iwanttoknowwhatyou’re
reallyupto—anddon’tgivemeanymoreofthislisteningtothenews
tosh!Youknowperfectlywellthatyourlot...”
“Careful,Vernon!”breathedAuntPetunia,andUncleVernon
loweredhisvoicesothatHarrycouldbarelyhearhim,“...thatyour
lotdon’tgetonournews!”
“That’sallyouknow,”saidHarry.
TheDursleysgoggledathimforafewseconds,thenAunt
Petuniasaid,“You’reanastylittleliar.Whatareallthose—”shetoo
loweredhervoicesothatHarryhadtolip-readthenextword,“—
owls—doingifthey’renotbringingyounews?”
“Aha!”saidUncleVernoninatriumphantwhisper.“Getoutof
thatone,boy!Asifwedidn’tknowyougetallyournewsfromthose
pestilentialbirds!”
Harryhesitatedforamoment.Itcosthimsomethingtotellthe


truththistime,eventhoughhisauntandunclecouldnotpossibly
knowhowbadHarryfeltatadmittingit.
“Theowls...aren’tbringingmenews,”saidHarrytonelessly.
“Idon’tbelieveit,”saidAuntPetuniaatonce.
“NomoredoI,”saidUncleVernonforcefully.
“Weknowyou’reuptosomethingfunny,”saidAuntPetunia.
“We’renotstupid,youknow,”saidUncleVernon.
“Well,that’snewstome,”saidHarry,histemperrising,and
beforetheDursleyscouldcallhimback,hehadwheeledabout,
crossedthefrontlawn,steppedoverthelowgardenwall,andwas
stridingoffupthestreet.

Hewasintroublenowandheknewit.Hewouldhavetoface
hisauntandunclelaterandpaythepriceforhisrudeness,buthedid
notcareverymuchjustatthemoment;hehadmuchmorepressing
mattersonhismind.
Harrywassurethatthecrackingnoisehadbeenmadeby
someoneApparatingorDisapparating.Itwasexactlythesound
Dobbythehouse-elfmadewhenhevanishedintothinair.Wasit
possiblethatDobbywashereinPrivetDrive?CouldDobbybe
followinghimrightatthisverymoment?Asthisthoughtoccurredhe
wheeledaroundandstaredbackdownPrivetDrive,butitappeared
tobecompletelydesertedagainandHarrywassurethatDobbydid
notknowhowtobecomeinvisible...
Hewalkedon,hardlyawareoftheroutehewastaking,forhe
hadpoundedthesestreetssooftenlatelythathisfeetcarriedhimto
hisfavoritehauntsautomatically.Everyfewstepsheglancedback
overhisshoulder.Someonemagicalhadbeennearhimashelay
amongAuntPetunia’sdyingbegonias,hewassureofit.Whyhadn’t
theyspokentohim,whyhadn’ttheymadecontact,whywerethey
hidingnow?
Andthen,ashisfeelingoffrustrationpeaked,hiscertainty
leakedaway.
Perhapsithadn’tbeenamagicalsoundafterall.Perhapshewas
sodesperateforthetiniestsignofcontactfromtheworldtowhichhe
belongedthathewassimplyoverreactingtoperfectlyordinary


noises.Couldhebesureithadn’tbeenthesoundofsomething
breakinginsideaneighbor’shouse?
Harryfeltadull,sinkingsensationinhisstomachand,beforehe
knewit,thefeelingofhopelessnessthathadplaguedhimallsummer

rolledoverhimonceagain...
Tomorrowmorninghewouldbeawokenbythealarmatfive
o’clocksothathecouldpaytheowlthatdeliveredtheDailyProphet—
butwasthereanypointincontinuingtotakeit?Harrymerely
glancedatthefrontpagebeforethrowingitasidethesedays;when
theidiotswhoranthepaperfinallyrealizedthatVoldemortwasback
itwouldbeheadlinenews,andthatwastheonlykindHarrycared
about.
Ifhewaslucky,therewouldalsobeowlscarryinglettersfrom
hisbestfriends,RonandHermione,thoughanyexpectationhehad
hadthattheirletterswouldbringhimnewshadlongsincebeen
dashed.
“Wecan’tsaymuchaboutyou-know-what,obviously....”“We’vebeen
toldnottosayanythingimportantincaseourlettersgoastray....”“We’re
quitebusybutIcan’tgiveyoudetailshere....”“There’safairamountgoing
on,we’lltellyoueverythingwhenweseeyou....”
Butwhenweretheygoingtoseehim?Nobodyseemedtoo
botheredwithaprecisedate.Hermionehadscribbled,“Iexpectwe’llbe
seeingyouquitesoon”insidehisbirthdaycard,buthowsoonwassoon?
AsfarasHarrycouldtellfromthevaguehintsintheirletters,
HermioneandRonwereinthesameplace,presumablyatRon’s
parents’house.Hecouldhardlybeartothinkofthepairofthem
havingfunattheBurrowwhenhewasstuckinPrivetDrive.Infact,
hewassoangryatthemthathehadthrownboththeirbirthday
presentsofHoneydukeschocolatesawayunopened,thoughhehad
regrettedthisaftereatingthewiltingsaladAuntPetuniahad
providedfordinnerthatnight.
AndwhatwereRonandHermionebusywith?Whywasn’the,
Harry,busy?Hadn’theprovedhimselfcapableofhandlingmuch
morethanthey?Hadtheyallforgottenwhathehaddone?Hadn’tit

beenhewhohadenteredthatgraveyardandwatchedCedricbeing
murderedandbeentiedtothattombstoneandnearlykilled...?
Don’tthinkaboutthat,Harrytoldhimselfsternlyforthe
hundredthtimethatsummer.Itwasbadenoughthathekept


revisitingthegraveyardinhisnightmares,withoutdwellingonitin
hiswakingmomentstoo.
HeturnedacornerintoMagnoliaCrescent;halfwayalonghe
passedthenarrowalleywaydownthesideofagaragewherehehad
firstclappedeyesonhisgodfather.Sirius,atleast,seemedto
understandhowHarrywasfeeling;admittedlyhisletterswerejustas
emptyofpropernewsasRonandHermione’s,butatleastthey
containedwordsofcautionandconsolationinsteadoftantalizing
hints:
“Iknowthismustbefrustratingforyou....”“Keepyournoseclean
andeverythingwillbeokay....”“Becarefulanddon’tdoanythingrash....”
Well,thoughtHarry,ashecrossedMagnoliaCrescent,turned
intoMagnoliaRoad,andheadedtowardthedarkeningplaypark,he
had(byandlarge)doneasSiriusadvised;hehadatleastresistedthe
temptationtotiehistrunktohisbroomstickandsetoffforthe
Burrowbyhimself.InfactHarrythoughthisbehaviorhadbeenvery
goodconsideringhowfrustratedandangryhefeltatbeingstuckin
PrivetDrivethislong,reducedtohidinginflowerbedsinthehopeof
hearingsomethingthatmightpointtowhatLordVoldemortwas
doing.Nevertheless,itwasquitegallingtobetoldnottoberashbya
manwhohadservedtwelveyearsinthewizardprison,Azkaban,
escaped,attemptedtocommitthemurderhehadbeenconvictedfor
inthefirstplace,thengoneontherunwithastolenhippogriff...
Harryvaultedoverthelockedparkgateandsetoffacrossthe

parchedgrass.Theparkwasasemptyasthesurroundingstreets.
WhenhereachedtheswingshesankontotheonlyonethatDudley
andhisfriendshadnotyetmanagedtobreak,coiledonearmaround
thechain,andstaredmoodilyattheground.Hewouldnotbeableto
hideintheDursleys’flowerbedagain.Tomorrowhewouldhaveto
thinkofsomefreshwayoflisteningtothenews.Inthemeantime,he
hadnothingtolookforwardtobutanotherrestless,disturbednight,
becauseevenwhenheescapednightmaresaboutCedrichehad
unsettlingdreamsaboutlongdarkcorridors,allfinishingindead
endsandlockeddoors,whichhesupposedhadsomethingtodowith
thetrappedfeelinghehadwhenhewasawake.Oftentheoldscaron
hisforeheadprickleduncomfortably,buthedidnotfoolhimselfthat
RonorHermioneorSiriuswouldfindthatveryinteresting
anymore...InthepasthisscarhurtinghadwarnedthatVoldemort
wasgettingstrongeragain,butnowthatVoldemortwasbackthey


wouldprobablyremindhimthatitsregularirritationwasonlytobe
expected...Nothingtoworryabout...oldnews...
Theinjusticeofitallwelledupinsidehimsothathewantedto
yellwithfury.Ifithadn’tbeenforhim,nobodywouldevenhave
knownVoldemortwasback!AndhisrewardwastobestuckinLittle
Whingingforfoursolidweeks,completelycutofffromthemagical
world,reducedtosquattingamongdyingbegoniassothathecould
hearaboutwater-skiingbudgerigars!HowcouldDumbledorehave
forgottenhimsoeasily?WhyhadRonandHermionegottogether
withoutinvitinghimalongtoo?Howmuchlongerwashesupposed
toendureSiriustellinghimtosittightandbeagoodboy;orresist
thetemptationtowritetothestupidDailyProphetandpointoutthat
Voldemorthadreturned?Thesefuriousthoughtswhirledaroundin

Harry’shead,andhisinsideswrithedwithangerasasultry,velvety
nightfellaroundhim,theairfullofthesmellofwarm,drygrassand
theonlysoundthatofthelowgrumbleoftrafficontheroadbeyond
theparkrailings.
Hedidnotknowhowlonghehadsatontheswingbeforethe
soundofvoicesinterruptedhismusingsandhelookedup.The
streetlampsfromthesurroundingroadswerecastingamistyglow
strongenoughtosilhouetteagroupofpeoplemakingtheirway
acrossthepark.Oneofthemwassingingaloud,crudesong.The
otherswerelaughing.Asofttickingnoisecamefromseveral
expensiveracingbikesthattheywerewheelingalong.
Harryknewwhothosepeoplewere.Thefigureinfrontwas
unmistakablyhiscousin,DudleyDursley,wendinghiswayhome,
accompaniedbyhisfaithfulgang.
Dudleywasasvastasever,butayear’sharddietingandthe
discoveryofanewtalenthadwroughtquiteachangeinhisphysique.
AsUncleVernondelightedlytoldanyonewhowouldlisten,Dudley
hadrecentlybecometheJuniorHeavyweightInter-SchoolBoxing
ChampionoftheSoutheast.“Thenoblesport,”asUncleVernon
calledit,hadmadeDudleyevenmoreformidablethanhehadseemed
toHarryintheprimaryschooldayswhenhehadservedasDudley’s
firstpunchingbag.Harrywasnotremotelyafraidofhiscousin
anymorebuthestilldidn’tthinkthatDudleylearningtopunch
harderandmoreaccuratelywascauseforcelebration.Neighborhood
childrenallaroundwereterrifiedofhim—evenmoreterrifiedthan
theywereof“thatPotterboy,”who,theyhadbeenwarned,wasa


hardenedhooliganwhoattendedSt.Brutus’sSecureCenterfor
IncurablyCriminalBoys.

Harrywatchedthedarkfigurescrossingthegrassand
wonderedwhomtheyhadbeenbeatinguptonight.Lookround,Harry
foundhimselfthinkingashewatchedthem.Comeon...lookround...
I’msittinghereallalone....Comeandhaveago....
IfDudley’sfriendssawhimsittinghere,theywouldbesureto
makeabeelineforhim,andwhatwouldDudleydothen?He
wouldn’twanttolosefaceinfrontofthegang,buthe’dbeterrifiedof
provokingHarry...ItwouldbereallyfuntowatchDudley’s
dilemma;totaunthim,watchhim,withhimpowerlesstorespond...
andifanyoftheotherstriedhittingHarry,Harrywasready—hehad
hiswand...letthemtry...He’dlovetoventsomeofhisfrustration
ontheboyswhohadoncemadehislifehell—
Buttheydidnotturnaround,theydidnotseehim,theywere
almostattherailings.Harrymasteredtheimpulsetocallafter
them....Seekingafightwasnotasmartmove...Hemustnotuse
magic...Hewouldberiskingexpulsionagain...
Dudley’sgang’svoicesdied;theywereoutofsight,heading
alongMagnoliaRoad.
Thereyougo,Sirius,Harrythoughtdully.Nothingrash.Keptmy
noseclean.Exactlytheoppositeofwhatyou’dhavedone...
Hegottohisfeetandstretched.AuntPetuniaandUncleVernon
seemedtofeelthatwheneverDudleyturnedupwastherighttimeto
behome,andanytimeafterthatwasmuchtoolate.UncleVernonhad
threatenedtolockHarryintheshedifhecamehomeafterDudley
again,so,stiflingayawn,stillscowling,Harrysetofftowardthepark
gate.
MagnoliaRoad,likePrivetDrive,wasfulloflarge,square
houseswithperfectlymanicuredlawns,allownedbylarge,square
ownerswhodroveverycleancarssimilartoUncleVernon’s.Harry
preferredLittleWhingingbynight,whenthecurtainedwindows

madepatchesofjewel-brightcolorsinthedarknessandheranno
dangerofhearingdisapprovingmuttersabouthis“delinquent”
appearancewhenhepassedthehouseholders.Hewalkedquickly,so
thathalfwayalongMagnoliaRoadDudley’sgangcameintoview
again;theyweresayingtheirfarewellsattheentrancetoMagnolia
Crescent.Harrysteppedintotheshadowofalargelilactreeand


waited.
“...squealedlikeapig,didn’the?”Malcolmwassaying,to
guffawsfromtheothers.
“Nicerighthook,BigD,”saidPiers.
“Sametimetomorrow?”saidDudley.
“Roundatmyplace,myparentsareout,”saidGordon.
“Seeyouthen,”saidDudley.
“ByeDud!”
“Seeya,BigD!”
Harrywaitedfortherestofthegangtomoveonbeforesetting
offagain.Whentheirvoiceshadfadedoncemoreheheadedaround
thecornerintoMagnoliaCrescentandbywalkingveryquicklyhe
sooncamewithinhailingdistanceofDudley,whowasstrollingalong
athisease,hummingtunelessly.
“Hey,BigD!”
Dudleyturned.
“Oh,”hegrunted.“It’syou.”
“Howlonghaveyoubeen‘BigD’then?”saidHarry.
“Shutit,”snarledDudley,turningawayagain.
“Coolname,”saidHarry,grinningandfallingintostepbeside
hiscousin.“Butyou’llalwaysbeIckleDiddykinstome.”
“Isaid,SHUTIT!”saidDudley,whoseham-likehandshad

curledintofists.
“Don’ttheboysknowthat’swhatyourmumcallsyou?”
“Shutyourface.”
“Youdon’ttellhertoshutherface.Whatabout‘popkin’and
‘DinkyDiddydums,’canIusethemthen?”
Dudleysaidnothing.Theeffortofkeepinghimselffromhitting
Harryseemedtobedemandingallhisself-control.
“Sowho’veyoubeenbeatinguptonight?”Harryasked,hisgrin


fading.“Anotherten-year-old?IknowyoudidMarkEvanstwo
nightsago—”
“Hewasaskingforit,”snarledDudley.
“Ohyeah?”
“Hecheekedme.”
“Yeah?Didhesayyoulooklikeapigthat’sbeentaughttowalk
onitshindlegs?’Causethat’snotcheek,Dud,that’strue...”
AmusclewastwitchinginDudley’sjaw.ItgaveHarryenormous
satisfactiontoknowhowfurioushewasmakingDudley;hefeltas
thoughhewassiphoningoffhisownfrustrationintohiscousin,the
onlyoutlethehad.
TheyturnedrightdownthenarrowalleywaywhereHarryhad
firstseenSiriusandwhichformedashortcutbetweenMagnolia
CrescentandWisteriaWalk.Itwasemptyandmuchdarkerthanthe
streetsitlinkedbecausetherewerenostreetlamps.Theirfootsteps
weremuffledbetweengaragewallsononesideandahighfenceon
theother.
“Thinkyou’reabigmancarryingthatthing,don’tyou?”Dudley
saidafterafewseconds.
“Whatthing?”

“That—thatthingyou’rehiding.”
Harrygrinnedagain.
“Notasstupidasyoulook,areyou,Dud?ButIs’poseifyou
were,youwouldn’tbeabletowalkandtalkatthesametime...”
Harrypulledouthiswand.HesawDudleylooksidewaysatit.
“You’renotallowed,”Dudleysaidatonce.“Iknowyou’renot.
You’dgetexpelledfromthatfreakschoolyougoto.”
“Howd’youknowtheyhaven’tchangedtherules,BigD?”
“Theyhaven’t,”saidDudley,thoughhedidn’tsoundcompletely
convinced.Harrylaughedsoftly.
“Youhaven’tgotthegutstotakemeonwithoutthatthing,have
you?”Dudleysnarled.


“Whereasyoujustneedfourmatesbehindyoubeforeyoucan
beatupaten-year-old.Youknowthatboxingtitleyoukeepbanging
onabout?Howoldwasyouropponent?Seven?Eight?”
“Hewassixteenforyourinformation,”snarledDudley,“andhe
wasoutcoldfortwentyminutesafterI’dfinishedwithhimandhe
wastwiceasheavyasyou.YoujustwaittillItellDadyouhadthat
thingout—”
“RunningtoDaddynow,areyou?Ishisickleboxingchamp
frightenedofnastyHarry’swand?”
“Notthisbraveatnight,areyou?”sneeredDudley.
“Thisisnight,Diddykins.That’swhatwecallitwhenitgoesall
darklikethis.”
“Imeanwhenyou’reinbed!”Dudleysnarled.
Hehadstoppedwalking.Harrystoppedtoo,staringathis
cousin.FromthelittlehecouldseeofDudley’slargeface,hewas
wearingastrangelytriumphantlook.

“Whatd’youmean,I’mnotbraveinbed?”saidHarry,completely
nonplussed.“What—amIsupposedtobefrightenedofpillowsor
something?”
“Iheardyoulastnight,”saidDudleybreathlessly.“Talkingin
yoursleep.Moaning.”
“Whatd’youmean?”Harrysaidagain,buttherewasacold,
plungingsensationinhisstomach.Hehadrevisitedthegraveyardlast
nightinhisdreams.
Dudleygaveaharshbarkoflaughterthenadoptedahighpitched,whimperingvoice.“‘Don’tkillCedric!Don’tkillCedric!’
Who’sCedric—yourboyfriend?”
“I—you’relying—”saidHarryautomatically.Buthismouth
hadgonedry.HeknewDudleywasn’tlying—howelsewouldhe
knowaboutCedric?
“‘Dad!Helpme,Dad!He’sgoingtokillme,Dad!Boo-hoo!’”
“Shutup,”saidHarryquietly.“Shutup,Dudley,I’mwarning
you!”
“‘Comeandhelpme,Dad!Mum,comeandhelpme!He’skilled


Cedric!Dad,helpme!He’sgoingto—’Don’tyoupointthatthingat
me!”
Dudleybackedintothealleywall.Harrywaspointingthewand
directlyatDudley’sheart.Harrycouldfeelfourteenyears’hatredof
Dudleypoundinginhisveins—whatwouldn’thegivetostrikenow,
tojinxDudleysothoroughlyhe’dhavetocrawlhomelikeaninsect,
struckdumb,sproutingfeelers—
“Don’tevertalkaboutthatagain,”Harrysnarled.“D’you
understandme?”
“Pointthatthingsomewhereelse!”
“Isaid,doyouunderstandme?”

“Pointitsomewhereelse!”
“DOYOUUNDERSTANDME?”
“GETTHATTHINGAWAYFROM—”
Dudleygaveanodd,shudderinggasp,asthoughhehadbeen
dousedinicywater.
Somethinghadhappenedtothenight.Thestar-strewnindigo
skywassuddenlypitch-blackandlightless—thestars,themoon,the
mistystreetlampsateitherendofthealleyhadvanished.Thedistant
grumbleofcarsandthewhisperoftreeshadgone.Thebalmy
eveningwassuddenlypiercingly,bitinglycold.Theywere
surroundedbytotal,impenetrable,silentdarkness,asthoughsome
gianthandhaddroppedathick,icymantleovertheentirealleyway,
blindingthem.
ForasplitsecondHarrythoughthehaddonemagicwithout
meaningto,despitethefactthathe’dbeenresistingashardashe
could—thenhisreasoncaughtupwithhissenses—hedidn’thave
thepowertoturnoffthestars.Heturnedhisheadthiswayandthat,
tryingtoseesomething,butthedarknesspressedonhiseyeslikea
weightlessveil.
Dudley’sterrifiedvoicebrokeinHarry’sear.
“W-whatareyoud-doing?St-stopit!”
“I’mnotdoinganything!Shutupanddon’tmove!”
“Ic-can’tsee!I’veg-goneblind!I—”


“Isaidshutup!”
Harrystoodstock-still,turninghissightlesseyesleftandright.
Thecoldwassointensethathewasshiveringallover;goosebumps
haderupteduphisarms,andthehairsonthebackofhisneckwere
standingup—heopenedhiseyestotheirfullestextent,staring

blanklyaround,unseeing...
Itwasimpossible...Theycouldn’tbehere...NotinLittle
Whinging...Hestrainedhisears...Hewouldhearthembeforehe
sawthem...
“I’llt-tellDad!”Dudleywhimpered.“W-whereareyou?What
areyoud-do—?”
“Willyoushutup?”Harryhissed,“I’mtryingtolis—”
Buthefellsilent.Hehadheardjustthethinghehadbeen
dreading.
Therewassomethinginthealleywayapartfromthemselves,
somethingthatwasdrawinglong,hoarse,rattlingbreaths.Harryfelt
ahorriblejoltofdreadashestoodtremblinginthefreezingair.
“C-cutitout!Stopdoingit!I’llh-hityou,IswearIwill!”
“Dudley,shut—”
WHAM!
AfistmadecontactwiththesideofHarry’shead,liftingHarry
offhisfeet.SmallwhitelightspoppedinfrontofHarry’seyes;forthe
secondtimeinanhourhefeltasthoughhisheadhadbeencleavedin
two;nextmomenthehadlandedhardontheground,andhiswand
hadflownoutofhishand.
“Youmoron,Dudley!”Harryyelled,hiseyeswateringwithpain,
ashescrambledtohishandsandknees,nowfeelingaround
franticallyintheblackness.HeheardDudleyblunderingaway,
hittingthealleyfence,stumbling.
“DUDLEY,COMEBACK!YOU’RERUNNINGRIGHTATIT!”
Therewasahorriblesquealingyell,andDudley’sfootsteps
stopped.Atthesamemoment,Harryfeltacreepingchillbehindhim
thatcouldmeanonlyonething.Therewasmorethanone.
“DUDLEY,KEEPYOURMOUTHSHUT!WHATEVERYOU

DO,KEEPYOURMOUTHSHUT!Wand!”Harrymuttered
frantically,hishandsflyingoverthegroundlikespiders.“Where’s—
wand—comeon—Lumos!”
Hesaidthespellautomatically,desperateforlighttohelphimin
hissearch—andtohisdisbelievingrelief,lightflaredinchesfromhis
righthand—thewand-tiphadignited.Harrysnatcheditup,
scrambledtohisfeet,andturnedaround.
Hisstomachturnedover.
Atowering,hoodedfigurewasglidingsmoothlytowardhim,
hoveringovertheground,nofeetorfacevisiblebeneathitsrobes,
suckingonthenightasitcame.
Stumblingbackward,Harryraisedhiswand.
“ExpectoPatronum!”
Asilverywispofvaporshotfromthetipofthewandandthe
dementorslowed,butthespellhadn’tworkedproperly;trippingover
hisfeet,Harryretreatedfartherasthedementorboredownupon
him,panicfogginghisbrain—concentrate—
Apairofgray,slimy,scabbedhandsslidfrominsidethe
dementor’srobes,reachingforhim.ArushingnoisefilledHarry’s
ears.
“ExpectoPatronum!”
Hisvoicesoundeddimanddistant...Anotherwispofsilver
smoke,feeblerthanthelast,driftedfromthewand—hecouldn’tdo
itanymore,hecouldn’tworkthespell—
Therewaslaughterinsidehisownhead,shrill,high-pitched
laughter...Hecouldsmellthedementor’sputrid,death-coldbreath,
fillinghisownlungs,drowninghim—Think...somethinghappy....
Buttherewasnohappinessinhim...Thedementor’sicy
fingerswereclosingonhisthroat—thehigh-pitchedlaughterwas

growinglouderandlouder,andavoicespokeinsidehishead—“Bow
todeath,Harry....Itmightevenbepainless...Iwouldnotknow...Ihave
neverdied...”
HewasnevergoingtoseeRonandHermioneagain—
Andtheirfacesburstclearlyintohismindashefoughtfor