Monday, November 15, 2010

But they didn't turn around, they didn't see him

, they were almost at the railings. Harry mastered the impulse to call after them.... Seeking a fight was not a smart move.... He must not use magic.... He would be risking expulsion again.

The voices of Dudley's gang died away; they were out of sight, heading along Magnolia Road.

There you go, Sirius, Harry thought dully. Nothing rash. Kept my nose clean. Exactly the opposite of what you'd have done...

He got to his feet and stretched. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon seemed to feel that whenever Dudley turned up was the right time to be home, and any time after that was much too late. Uncle Vernon had threatened to lock Harry in the shed if he came home after Dudley ever again, so, stifling a yawn, and still scowling, Harry set off toward the park gate.

Magnolia Road, like Privet Drive, was full of large, square houses with perfectly manicured lawns, all owned by large, square owners who drove very clean cars similar to Uncle Vernon's. Harry preferred Little Whinging by night, when the curtained windows made patches of jewel-bright colour in the darkness and he ran no danger of hearing disapproving mutters about his ‘delinquent’ appearance when he passed the householders. He walked quickly, so that halfway along Magnolia Road Dudley's gang came into view again; they were saying their farewells at the entrance to Magnolia Crescent. Harry stepped into the shadow of a large lilac tree and waited.

‘...squealed like a pig, didn't he?’ Malcolm was saying, to guffaws from the others.

‘Nice right hook, Big D,’ said Piers.

‘Same time tomorrow?’ said Dudley.

‘Round at my place, my parents will be out,’ said Gordon.

‘See you then,’ said Dudley.

‘Bye, Dud!’

‘See ya, Big D!’

Harry waited for the rest of the gang to move on before setting off again. When their voices had faded once more he headed around the corner into Magnolia Crescent and by walking very quickly he soon came within hailing distance of Dudley, who was strolling along at his ease, humming tunelessly.

‘Hey, Big D!’

Dudley turned.

‘Oh,’ he grunted. ‘It's you.’

‘How long have you been “Big D” then?’ said Harry.

‘Shut it,’ snarled Dudley, turning away.

‘Cool name,’ said Harry, grinning and falling into step beside is cousin. ‘But you'll always be “Ickle Diddykins” to me.’

‘I said, SHUT IT!’ said Dudley, whose ham-like hands had curled into fists.

‘Don't the boys know that's what your mum calls you?’

‘Shut your face.’

‘You don't tell her to shut her face. What about “Popkin” and “Dinky Diddydums", can I use them then?’

Dudley said nothing. The effort of keeping himself from hitting Harry seemed to demand all his self-control.

‘So who've you been beating up tonight?’ Harry asked, his grin fading. ‘Another ten-year-old? I know you did Mark Evans two nights ago—’

‘He was asking for it,’ snarled Dudley.

‘Oh yeah?’

‘He cheeked me.’

‘Yeah? Did he say you look like a pig that's been taught to walk on its hind legs? ‘Cause that's not cheek, Dud, that's true...’

A muscle was twitching in Dudley's jaw. It gave Harry enormous satisfaction to know how furious he was making Dudley; he felt as though he was siphoning off his own frustration into his cousin, the only outlet he had.

They turned right down the narrow alleyway where Harry had first seen Sirius and which formed a short cut between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk. It was empty and much darker than the streets it linked because there were no streetlamps. Their footsteps were muffled between garage walls on one side and a high fence on the other.

‘Think you're a big man carrying that thing, don't you?’ Dudley said after a few seconds.

‘What thing?’

‘That—that thing you are hiding.’

Harry grinned again.

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