Harry Potter 05 - Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

endangering my wife and son, you’re not bringing trouble down on us. If you’re going the same way as your useless parents, I’ve had it! OUT!’
    Harry stood rooted to the spot. The letters from the Ministry, Mr Weasley and Sirius were all crushed in his left hand. Don’t leave the house again, whatever you do. DO NOT LEAVE YOUR AUNT AND UNCLE’S HOUSE.
    ‘You heard me!’ said Uncle Vernon, bending forwards now, his massive purple face coming so close to Harry’s, he actually felt flecks of spit hit his face. ‘Get going! You were all keen to leave half an hour ago! I’m right behind you! Get out and never darken our doorstep again! Why we ever kept you in the first place, I don’t know. Marge was right, it should have been the orphanage. We were too damn soft for our own good, thought we could squash it out of you, thought we could turn you normal, but you’ve been rotten from the beginning and I’ve had enough – owls !’
    The fifth owl zoomed down the chimney so fast it actually hit the floor before zooming into the air again with a loud screech. Harry raised his hand to seize the letter, which was in a scarlet envelope, but it soared straight over his head, flying directly at Aunt Petunia, who let out a scream and ducked, her arms over her face. The owl dropped the red envelope on her head, turned, and flew straight back up the chimney.
    Harry darted forwards to pick up the letter, but Aunt Petunia beat him to it.
    ‘You can open it if you like,’ said Harry, ‘but I’ll hear what it says anyway. That’s a Howler.’
    ‘Let go of it, Petunia!’ roared Uncle Vernon. ‘Don’t touch it, it could be dangerous!’
    ‘It’s addressed to me,’ said Aunt Petunia in a shaking voice. ‘It’s addressed to me , Vernon, look! Mrs Petunia Dursley, The Kitchen, Number Four, Privet Drive –’
    She caught her breath, horrified. The red envelope had begun to smoke.
    ‘Open it!’ Harry urged her. ‘Get it over with! It’ll happen anyway.’
    ‘No.’
    Aunt Petunia’s hand was trembling. She looked wildly around the kitchen as though looking for an escape route, but too late – the envelope burst into flames. Aunt Petunia screamed and dropped it.
    An awful voice filled the kitchen, echoing in the confined space, issuing from the burning letter on the table.
    ‘ Remember my last, Petunia. ’
    Aunt Petunia looked as though she might faint. She sank into the chair beside Dudley, her face in her hands. The remains of the envelope smouldered into ash in the silence.
    ‘What is this?’ Uncle Vernon said hoarsely. ‘What – I don’t – Petunia?’
    Aunt Petunia said nothing. Dudley was staring stupidly at his mother, his mouth hanging open. The silence spiralled horribly. Harry was watching his aunt, utterly bewildered, his head throbbing fit to burst.
    ‘Petunia, dear?’ said Uncle Vernon timidly. ‘P-Petunia?’
    She raised her head. She was still trembling. She swallowed.
    ‘The boy – the boy will have to stay, Vernon,’ she said weakly.
    ‘W-what?’
    ‘He stays,’ she said. She was not looking at Harry. She got to her feet again.
    ‘He … but Petunia …’
    ‘If we throw him out, the neighbours will talk,’ she said. She was rapidly regaining her usual brisk, snappish manner, though she was still very pale. ‘They’ll ask awkward questions, they’ll want to know where he’s gone. We’ll have to keep him.’
    Uncle Vernon was deflating like an old tyre.
    ‘But Petunia, dear –’
    Aunt Petunia ignored him. She turned to Harry.
    ‘You’re to stay in your room,’ she said. ‘You’re not to leave the house. Now get to bed.’
    Harry didn’t move.
    ‘Who was that Howler from?’
    ‘Don’t ask questions,’ Aunt Petunia snapped.
    ‘Are you in touch with wizards?’
    ‘I told you to get to bed!’
    ‘What did it mean? Remember the last what?’
    ‘Go to bed!’
    ‘How come –?’
    ‘YOU HEARD YOUR AUNT, NOW GO UP TO BED!’

 
     
— CHAPTER THREE —
     
The Advance Guard
    I’ve just been attacked by Dementors and I might be expelled from Hogwarts. I want to know what’s going on and when I’m going to get out of here.
    Harry copied these words on to three separate pieces of parchment the moment he reached the desk in his dark bedroom. He addressed the first to Sirius, the second to Ron and the third to Hermione. His owl, Hedwig, was off hunting; her cage stood empty on the desk. Harry paced the bedroom waiting for her to come back, his head pounding,