Harry Potter 02 - Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

and passing them out of the window to Ron. Then he went to help Fred and George heave his trunk up the stairs. Harry heard Uncle Vernon cough.
    At last, panting, they reached the landing, then carried the trunk through Harry’s room to the open window. Fred climbed back into the car to pull with Ron, and Harry and George pushed from the bedroom side. Inch by inch, the trunk slid through the window.
    Uncle Vernon coughed again.
    ‘A bit more,’ panted Fred, who was pulling from inside the car, ‘one good push …’
    Harry and George threw their shoulders against the trunk and it slid out of the window into the back seat of the car.
    ‘OK, let’s go,’ George whispered.
    But as Harry climbed onto the window-sill there came a sudden loud screech from behind him, followed immediately by the thunder of Uncle Vernon’s voice.
    ‘THAT RUDDY OWL!’
    ‘I’ve forgotten Hedwig!’
    Harry tore back across the room as the landing light clicked on. He snatched up Hedwig’s cage, dashed to the window and passed it out to Ron. He was scrambling back onto the chest of drawers when Uncle Vernon hammered on the unlocked door – and it crashed open.
    For a split second, Uncle Vernon stood framed in the doorway; then he let out a bellow like an angry bull and dived at Harry, grabbing him by the ankle.
    Ron, Fred and George seized Harry’s arms and pulled as hard as they could.
    ‘Petunia!’ roared Uncle Vernon. ‘He’s getting away! HE’S GETTING AWAY!’
    The Weasleys gave a gigantic tug and Harry’s leg slid out of Uncle Vernon’s grasp. As soon as Harry was in the car and had slammed the door shut, Ron yelled, ‘Put your foot down, Fred!’ and the car shot suddenly towards the moon.
    Harry couldn’t believe it – he was free. He wound down the window, the night air whipping his hair, and looked back at the shrinking rooftops of Privet Drive. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Dudley were all hanging, dumbstruck, out of Harry’s window.
    ‘See you next summer!’ Harry yelled.
    The Weasleys roared with laughter and Harry settled back in his seat, grinning from ear to ear.
    ‘Let Hedwig out,’ he told Ron, ‘she can fly behind us. She hasn’t had a chance to stretch her wings for ages.’
    George handed the hairpin to Ron and a moment later, Hedwig had soared joyfully out of the window to glide alongside them like a ghost.
    ‘So – what’s the story, Harry?’ said Ron impatiently. ‘What’s been happening?’
    Harry told them all about Dobby, the warning he’d given Harry and the fiasco of the violet pudding. There was a long shocked silence when he had finished.
    ‘Very fishy,’ said Fred finally.
    ‘Definitely dodgy,’ agreed George. ‘So he wouldn’t even tell you who’s supposed to be plotting all this stuff?’
    ‘I don’t think he could,’ said Harry. ‘I told you, every time he got close to letting something slip, he started banging his head against the wall.’
    He saw Fred and George look at each other.
    ‘What, you think he was lying to me?’ said Harry.
    ‘Well,’ said Fred, ‘put it this way – house-elves have got powerful magic of their own, but they can’t usually use it without their masters’ permission. I reckon old Dobby was sent to stop you coming back to Hogwarts. Someone’s idea of a joke. Can you think of anyone at school with a grudge against you?’
    ‘Yes,’ said Harry and Ron together, instantly.
    ‘Draco Malfoy,’ Harry explained. ‘He hates me.’
    ‘Draco Malfoy?’ said George, turning round. ‘Not Lucius Malfoy’s son?’
    ‘Must be, it’s not a very common name, is it?’ said Harry. ‘Why?’
    ‘I’ve heard Dad talking about him,’ said George. ‘He was a big supporter of You Know Who.’
    ‘And when You Know Who disappeared,’ said Fred, craning around to look at Harry, ‘Lucius Malfoy came back saying he’d never meant any of it. Load of dung – Dad reckons he was right in You Know Who’s inner circle.’
    Harry had heard these rumours about Malfoy’s family before, and they didn’t surprise him at all. Draco Malfoy made Dudley Dursley look like a kind, thoughtful and sensitive boy.
    ‘I don’t know whether the Malfoys own a house-elf …’ said Harry.
    ‘Well, whoever owns him will be an old wizarding family, and they’ll be rich,’ said Fred.
    ‘Yeah, Mum’s always wishing we had a house-elf to do the ironing,’ said George. ‘But all we’ve got is a lousy old ghoul in the attic and gnomes all over the garden.