Chapter Three

The Dursleys Departing

The sound of the front door slamming echoed up the stairs and a voice roared,

"Oh! You!"

Sixteen years of being addressed thus left Harry in no doubt when his uncle was

calling, nevertheless, he did not immediately respond. He was still at the narrow fragment

in which, for a split second, he had thought he saw Dumbledore's eye. It was not until his

uncle bellowed, "BOY!" that Harry got slowly out of bed and headed for the bedroom

door, pausing to add the piece of broken mirror to the rucksack filled with things he

would be taking with him.

"You took you time!" roared Vernon Dursley when Harry appeared at the top of

the stairs, "Get down here. I want a word!"

Harry strolled downstairs, his hands deep in his pants pockets. When he searched

the living room he found all three Dursleys. They were dressed for packing; Uncle

Vernon in an old ripped-up jacket and Dudley, Harry's, large, blond, muscular cousin, in

his leather jacket.

"Yes?" asked Harry.

"Sit down!" said Uncle Vernon. Harry raised his eyebrows. "Please!" added

Uncle Vernon, wincing slightly as though the word was sharp in his throat.

Harry sat. He though he knew what was coming. His uncle began to pace up and down,

Aunt Petunia and Dudley, following his movement with anxious expressions. Finally, his

large purple face crumpled with concentration. Uncle Vernon stopped in front of Harry

and spoke.

"I've changed my mind," he said.

"What a surprise," said Harry.

"Don't you take that tone-" began Aunt Petunia in a shrill voice, but Vernon

Dursley waved her down

"It's all a lot of claptrap," said Uncle Vernon, glaring at Harry with piggy little

eyes. "I've decided I don't believe a word of it. We're staying put, we're not going

anywhere."

Harry looked up at his uncle and felt a mixture of exasperation and amusement.

Vernon Dursley had been changing his mind every twenty four hours for the past four

weeks, packing and unpacking and repacking the car with every change of heart. Harry's

favorite moment had been the one when Uncle Vernon, unaware the Dudley had added

his dumbbells to his case since the last time it been repacked, had attempted to hoist it

back into the boot and collapsed with a yelp of pain and much swearing.

"According to you," Vernon Dursley said, now resuming his pacing up and down

the living room, "we ? Petunia, Dudley, and I ? are in danger. From ? from ?"

"Some of 'my lot' right?" said Harry

"Well I don't believe it," repeated Uncle Vernon, coming to a halt in front of

Harry again. "I was awake half the night thinking it all over, and I believe it's a plot to get

the house."

"The house?" repeated Harry. "What house?"

"This house!" shrieked Uncle Vernon, the vein his forehead starting to pulse.

"Our house! House prices are skyrocketing around here! You want us out of the way and



then you're going to do a bit of hocus pocus and before we know it the deeds will be in

your name and ?"

"Are you out of your mind?" demanded Harry. "A plot to get this house? Are you

actually as stupid as you look?"

"Don't you dare --!" squealed Aunt Petunia, but again Vernon waved her

down. Slights on his personal appearance were it seemed as nothing to the danger he had

spotted.

"Just in case you've forgotten," said Harry, "I've already got a house my godfather

left me one. So why would I want this one? All the happy memories?"

There was silence. Harry thought he had rather impressed his uncle with this

argument.

"You claim," said Uncle Vernon, starting to pace yet again, "that this Lord Thing

?"

"-Voldemort," said Harry impatiently, "and we've been through this about a

hundred times already. This isn't a claim, it's fact. Dumbledore told you last year, and

Kingsley and Mr. Weasley ?"

Vernon Dursley hunched his shoulders angrily, and Harry guessed that his uncle

was attempting to ward off recollections of the unannounced visit, a few days into Harry's

summer holidays, of two fully grown wizards. The arrival on the doorstep of Kingsley

Shacklebolt and Arthur Weasley had come as a most unpleasant shock to the Dursleys.

Harry had to admit, however that as Mr. Weasley had once demolished half of the living

room, his reappearance could not have been expected to delight Uncle Vernon.

"-Kingsley and Mr. Weasley explained it all as well," Harry pressed on

remorselessly, "Once I'm seventeen, the protective charm that keeps me safe will break,

and that exposes you as well as me. The Order is sure Voldemort will target you,

whether to torture you to try and find out where I am, or because he thinks by holding

you hostage I'd come and try to rescue you."

Uncle Vernon's and Harry's eyes met. Harry was sure that in that instant they were

both wondering the same thing. Then Uncle Vernon walked on and Harry resumed,

"You've got to go into hiding and the Order wants to help. You're being offered serious

protection, the best there is."

Uncle Vernon said nothing but continued to pace up and down. Outside the sun

hung low over the privet hedges. The next door neighbor's lawn mower stalled again.

"I thought there was a Ministry of Magic?" asked Vernon Dursley abruptly.

"There is," said Harry, surprised.

"Well, then, why can't they protect us? It seems to me that, as innocent victims, guilty of

nothing more than harboring a marked man, we ought to qualify for government

protection!"

Harry laughed; he could not help himself. It was so very typical of his uncle to put

his hopes in the establishment, even within this world that he despised and mistrusted.

"You heard what Mr. Weasley and Kingsley said," Harry replied.

"We think the Ministry has been infiltrated."

Uncle Vernon strode back to the fireplace and back breathing so strongly that his

great black mustache rippled his face still purple with concentration.



"All right," he said. Stopping in front of Harry get again. "All right, let's say for

the sake of argument we accept this protection. I still don't see why we can't have that

Kingsley bloke."

Harry managed not to roll his eyes, but with difficulty. This question had also

been addressed half a dozen times.

"As I've told you," he said through gritted teeth, "Kingsley is protecting the Mug

? I mean, your Prime Minister."

"Exactly ? he's the best!" said Uncle Vernon, pointing at the blank television

screen. The Dursleys had spotted Kingsley on the news, walking along the Muggle Prime

Minister as he visited a hospital. This, and the fact that Kingsley had mastered the knack

of dressing like a Muggle, not to mention a certain reassuring something in his slow, deep

voice, had caused the Dursleys to take to Kingsley in a way that they had certainly not

done with any other wizard, although it was true that they had never seen him with

earring in.

"Well, he's taken," said Harry. "But Hestia Jones and Dedalus Diggle are more

than up to the job ?"

"If we'd even seen CVs..." began Uncle Vernon, but Harry lost patience. Getting

to his feet, he advanced on his uncle, not pointing at the TV set himself.

"These accidents aren't accidents ? the crashed and explosions and derailments

and whatever else has happened since we last watched the news. People are disappearing

and dying and he's behind it ? Voldemort. I've told you this over and over again, he kills

Muggles for fun. Even the fogs ? they're caused by dementors, and if you can't remember

what they are, ask your son!"

Dudley's hands jerked upward to tower his mouth. With his parents' and Harry's

eyes upon him, he slowly lowered them again and asked, "There are... more of them?"

"More?" laughed Harry. "More than the two that attacked us, you mean? Of course there

are hundreds, maybe thousands by this time, seeing as they feed off fear and despair-"

"All right, all right blustered," blustered Vernon Dursley. "You've made your

point ?"

"I hope so," said Harry, "because once I'm seventeen, all of them ? Death Eaters,

elementors, maybe even Inferi ? which means dead bodies enchanted by a Dark wizard ?

will be able to find you and will certainly attack you. And if you remember the last time

you tried to outrunwizards, I think you'll agree you need help."

There was a brief silence in which the distant echo of Hagrid smashing down a

wooden front door seemed to reverberate through the intervening years. Aunt Petunia

was looking at Uncle Vernon; Dudley was staring at Harry. Finally Uncle Vernon

blurted out, "But what about my work? What about Dudley's school? I don't suppose

those things matter to a bunch of layabout wizards ?"

"Don't you understand?" shouted Harry. "They will torture and kill you like they

did my parents!"

"Dad," said Dudley in a loud voice, "Dad ? I'm going with these Order people."

"Dudley," said Harry, "for the first time in your life, you're talking sense."

He knew the battle was won. If Dudley was frightened enough to accept the Order's help,

his parents would accompany him. There could be no question of being separated from

their Duddykins. Harry glanced at the carriage clock on the mantelpiece.



"They'll be here in about five minutes, he said, and when one of the Dursleys

replied, he left the room. The prospect of parting-probably forever ? from his aunt,

uncle, and cousin was one that he was able to contemplate quite cheerfully but there was

nevertheless a certain awkwardness in the air. What did you say to one another at the end

of sixteen years' solid dislike?

Back in his bedroom, Harry fiddled aimlessly with his rucksack then poked a

couple of owl nuts through the bats of Hedwig's cage. They fell with dull thuds to the

bottom where she ignored them.

"We're leaving soon, really soon," Harry told her. "And then you'll be able to fly

again."

The doorbell rang. Harry hesitated, then headed back out of his room and

downstairs. It was too much to expect Hestia and Dedalus to cope with the Dursleys on

their own.

"Harry Potter!" squeaked an excited voice, the moment Harry had opened the

door; a small man in a mauve top hat that was sweeping him a deep bow. "An honor as

ever!"

"Thanks, Dedalus," said Harry, bestowing a small and embarrassed smile upon

the dark haired Hestia. "It's really good of you to do this... They're through here, my aunt

and uncle and cousin..."

"Good day to you, Harry Potter's relatives!" said Dedalus happily striding into the

living room. The Dursleys did not look at all happy to be addressed thus; Harry half

expected another change of mind. Dudley shrank neared to his mother at the sight of the

witch and wizard.

"I see you are packed and ready. Excellent! The plan, as Harry has told you, is a

simple one," said Dedalus, pulling an immense pocket watch out of his waistcoat and

examining it. "We shall be leaving before Harry does. Due to the danger of using magic

in your house ?Harry being still underage it could provide the Ministry with an excuse to

arrest him ? we shall be driving, say, ten miles or so before Disapparating to the safe

location we have picked out for you. You know how to drive, I take it?" He asked Uncle

Vernon politely.

"Know how to ?? Of course I ruddy well know how to drive!" spluttered Uncle

Vernon.

"Very clever of you, sir, very clever. I personally would be utterly bamboozled by

all those buttons and knobs," said Dedalus. He was clearly under the impression that he

was flattering Vernon Dursley, who was visibly losing confidence in the plan with every

word Dedalus spoke.

"Can't even drive," he muttered under his breath, his mustache rippling

indignantly, but fortunately neither Dedalus nor Hestia seemed to hear him.

"You, Harry," Dedalus continued, "will wait here for your guard. There has been

a little change in the arrangements ?"

"What d'you mean?" said Harry at once. "I thought Mad-Eye was going to come

and take me by Side Along-Apparition?"

"Can't do it," said Hestia tersely, "Mad-Eye will explain."

The Dursleys, who had listened to all of this with looks of utter incomprehension

on their faces, jumped as a loud voice screeched, "Hurry up!" Harry looked all around the

room before realizing the voice had issued from Dedalus's pocket watch.



"Quite right, were operating to a very tight schedule," said Dedalus nodding at his

watch and tucking it back into his waist coat. "We are attempting to time your departure

from the house with your family's Disapparition, Harry thus the charm breaks the

moment you all head for safety." He turned to the Dursleys, "Well, are we all packed and

ready to go?"

None of them answered him. Uncle Vernon was still staring appalled at the bulge

in Dedalus's waistcoat pocket.

"Perhaps we should wait outside in the hall, Dedalus," murmured Hestia. She

clearly felt that it would be tactless for them to remain the room while Harry and the

Dursleys exchanged loving, possibly tearful farewells.

"There's no need," Harry muttered, but Uncle Vernon made any further

explanation unnecessary by saying loudly,

"Well, this is good-bye then boy."

He swung his right arm upward to shake Harry's hand, but at the last moment

seemed unable to face it, and merely closed his fist and began swinging it backward and

forward like a metronome.

"Ready, Duddy?" asked Petunia, fussily checking the clasp of her handbag so as

to avoid looking at Harry altogether.

Dudley did not answer but stood there with his mouth slightly ajar, reminding

Harry a little of the giant, Grawp.

"Come along, then," said Uncle Vernon.

He had already reached the living room door when Dudley mumbled, "I don't

understand."

"What don't you understand, popkin?" asked Petunia looking up at her son.

Dudley raised a large, hamlike hand to point at Harry.

"Why isn't he coming with us?

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia froze when they stood staring at Dudley as