Chapter 76

Chapter 76

Time slipped quietly by, and Merlin went through pair after pair of lace stockings.

One morning, Harry woke up, wished himself a happy birthday, and went downstairs in a set of pyjamas cobbled together from half a dozen mismatched pieces.

At the breakfast table, he received a piece of news.

He was going out with the Dursleys. It would be the first time since the start of the summer holidays that he had escaped the place he had come to loathe.

“Do we really have to take the freak with us?” Dudley grumbled, looking thoroughly put out.

“Oh, darling.” Mrs Dursley heaped more bacon onto Dudley’s plate. “We’ve already discussed this. Your father and I are simply too worried. We don’t want to come home and find the whole house gone.”

Harry’s spirits soared. In the space of a few short seconds, he had already pictured himself alone and free in the house. He might take out his Nimbus 2000 and have a bit of fun. He might even leaf through the magical books he liked. Funny how he had never realised at school just how lovely they were.

So–

“I won’t,” Harry said at once. “I’ll stay quietly at home. I won’t use magic on the house or do anything–”

“Shut up!” Mr Dursley roared. “We do not use words like that in this house!”

“I only–”

“You only what?” Mr Dursley pounded the table, spraying flecks of spit over the plate in front of Harry.

“If Mrs Figg hadn’t gone into hospital, I would never dream of taking you with us. You wouldn’t set one foot outside this house!”

“And I have warned you before: I will not tolerate any mention of your abnormalities under my roof!”

“All right,” Harry said. “All right…”

Mr Dursley puffed like a rhinoceros with breathing trouble. When he had finally calmed down, he turned to his wife and son.

“Have you brought your formal clothes, dear?”

Mrs Dursley shook her head.

“The people we’re visiting are upper-class, you understand. A very well-mannered family. It took a great deal of effort to secure an invitation to their home, and if I can close this deal, we’ll be able to start deciding where to spend our next holiday.”

“Of course, Dad. I’ve got it all planned.” Dudley put down his fork and cleared his throat. “I’ll knock politely, then greet them with all the proper manners they teach us at Smeltings.”

“Like this.” Dudley hopped down from the table and took Mrs Dursley’s hand. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Ellison. I do hope you’ll forgive us for imposing. You look remarkably young and beautiful.”

Harry sprayed a mouthful of toast across the table.

“Cough–cough!” He spluttered several times. The sight of Dudley made him wonder whether the Ellisons would throw them straight back out.

Mr Dursley glared furiously at Harry, then lavished praise upon his precious son.

“Excellent, Dudley.” He clapped softly, then frowned. “If I remember correctly, they have a son and a daughter.”

“I’ve prepared gifts for them,” Mrs Dursley said with a sniff. “No girl could possibly refuse a complete set of princess dolls. As for young Mr Ellison, I bought him a fountain pen.”

At that, Mrs Dursley frowned, a pang of distress crossing her face.

“It cost six hundred pounds!”

“How thoughtful of you.” Mr Dursley nodded in satisfaction. “Six hundred pounds is nothing if I land this order. I’ll earn dozens of times that amount. It may be the biggest contract of my life.”

“Now, Potter.” He turned and glared at Harry. “I expect you to remain silent for the entire visit. Not one word. You are a mute. Is that understood?”

Harry pursed his lips and nodded.

“If you ruin this visit…” Mr Dursley’s voice was thick with menace.

Only after Harry nodded again did he appear satisfied and stuff another piece of bread into his mouth.

“Good. Now we shall practise a few compliments for the dinner table. Petunia, any suggestions?”

Mrs Dursley thought for a moment. “Mr. Ellison, Vernon tells me you’re an absolutely marvellous golfer. Mrs. Ellison, you must tell me where you bought that dress. It suits you perfectly–no, the dress itself can hardly do justice to your elegance. How is that?”

“Excellent.” Mr Dursley nodded delightedly. “Dudley?”

“How about this? I could say that our teacher at Smeltings asked us to write about the person we admired most, and I wrote about you,” Dudley said with a grin.

Harry ducked his head beneath the table and struggled to keep the corners of his mouth from rising. He was afraid they would see him laughing.

After a long session of rehearsal, Mr Dursley finally clapped his hands in satisfaction.

“Right, then. We’ll set off now. First we’ll drive round and pick up your formal clothes, and then we’ll go to their house.”

“They live on the outskirts of London. It is rather a long way.”

Mr Dursley gave Harry one final, vicious glare.

“You had better keep your promise, Potter. Not a sound for the entire visit. You are a mute. Understood?”

While the Dursleys prepared for their grand social call, Suer awoke that morning to hear from Mr. Ellison that a family would be visiting them.

Suer therefore coaxed Angel into helping him put away everything in the house connected to Hogwarts, tidying up the mess she had made while they were at it.

It was only basic courtesy, and objects from the magical world were best kept out of sight when outsiders came to call.

There was not much to hide, really. Just a few magical books and the sweets Angel loved: little animal biscuits that ran about and Chocolate Frogs that leapt out of their boxes.

Although Mrs. Ellison had repeatedly forbidden Angel from eating so much sugar, Suer had bought her a great heap of sweets on his way home. After all, he had not returned for Easter, and the little girl had written more than once to tell him how unhappy she was.

On Hermione and Suer’s first day home, Hermione had taken Angel to her parents’ dental surgery.

What followed deserved a mention. After letting out a shriek like a startled marmot, Hermione had fled the Ellison house with her face scarlet.

Suer had learnt something that day about the heights a girl’s voice could reach. Even now, so many days later, the memory made his eardrums itch.

“Bwother, can Angel keep these sweets in Angel’s room?” Angel asked. She hugged several boxes to her chest, her eyes sparkling.

“No.” Suer shook his head at her crestfallen expression and tapped the little girl’s forehead. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re planning.”

“They’ll stay in my room. You can take one when you want one. Mum said you’re not allowed to eat too many sweets anymore.”

“All wight…” Angel sighed and shook her head with the air of a world-weary adult.