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She burped richly and patted her great tweed stomach. Pardon me. But I do like to see a healthysized boy, she went on, winking at Dudley. Youll be a https://freewargames.cloud/fallout/fallout-new-vegas-jet-mod.php man, Dudders, like your father. Yes, Ill have a spot more brandy, Vernon. Now, this one here - She jerked her head at Harry, who felt his stomach clench. The Handbook, he thought quickly. This ones got a mean, runty look about him. You get that with dogs. I had Colonel Fubster drown one last year. Ratty little thing it was. Weak. Underbred. Harry was trying to remember page twelve of his book: A Charm to Cure Reluctant Reversers. It all comes down to blood, as I was saying the other day. Bad blood will out. Now, Im saying nothing against your family, Petunia - she patted Aunt Petunias bony hand with her shovel-like one - but your sister was a bad egg. They turn up in the best families. Then she ran off with a wastrel and heres the result right in front of us. Harry was staring at his plate, a funny ringing in his ears. Grasp your broom firmly by the tail, he thought. But he couldnt remember what came next. Aunt Marges voice seemed to be boring into him like one of Uncle Vernons drills. This Potter, said Aunt Marge loudly, seizing the brandy bottle and splashing more into her glass and over the tablecloth, you never told me what he did. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were please click for source extremely tense. Dudley had even looked up from his pie to gape at his parents. He - didnt work, said Uncle Vernon, with half a glance at Harry. Unemployed. As I expected. said Aunt Just click for source, taking a huge swig of brandy and wiping her chin on her sleeve. A no-account, good-for-nothing, lazy scrounger who - He was not, said Harry suddenly. The table went very quiet. Harry was shaking all over. He had never felt so angry in his life. MORE BRANDY. yelled Uncle Vernon, who had gone very white. He emptied the bottle into Aunt Marges glass. You, boy, he snarled at Harry. Go to bed, go on - No, Vernon, hiccuped Aunt Marge, holding up a hand, her tiny bloodshot eyes fixed on Harrys. Go on, boy, go on. Proud of your parents, are you. They go and get themselves killed in a car crash (drunk, I expect) - They didnt die in a car crash. said Harry, who found himself on his feet. They died in a car crash, you nasty little liar, and left you to be a burden on their decent, hardworking relatives. screamed Aunt Marge, swelling with fury. You are an insolent, ungrateful little - But Aunt Marge suddenly stopped speaking. For a moment, it looked as though words had failed her. She seemed to be swelling with inexpressible anger - but the swelling didnt stop. Her great red face started to expand, her tiny eyes bulged, and her mouth stretched too tightly for speech - next second, several buttons had just burst from her tweed jacket and pinged off the walls - she was inflating like a monstrous balloon, her stomach bursting free of her tweed waistband, each of her fingers blowing up like a salami - MARGE. yelled Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia together as Aunt Marges whole body began to rise off her chair toward the ceiling. She was entirely round, now, like a vast life buoy with piggy eyes, and her hands and feet stuck out weirdly as she drifted up into the air, making apoplectic popping noises. Ripper came skidding into the room, barking madly. NOOOOOOO. Uncle Vernon seized one of Marges feet and tried to pull her down again, but was almost lifted from the floor himself. A second later, Ripper leapt forward and sank his teeth into Uncle Vernons leg. Harry tore from the dining room before anyone could stop him, heading for the cupboard under the stairs. The cupboard door burst magically open as he reached it. In seconds, he had heaved his trunk to the front door. He sprinted upstairs and threw himself under the bed, wrenching up the loose floorboard, and grabbed the pillowcase full of his books and birthday presents. He wriggled out, seized Hedwigs empty cage, and dashed back downstairs to his trunk, just as Uncle Vernon burst out of the dining room, his trouser leg in bloody tatters. COME BACK IN HERE. he bellowed. COME BACK AND PUT HER RIGHT. But a reckless rage had come over Harry. He kicked his trunk open, pulled out his wand, and pointed it at Uncle Vernon. She deserved it, Harry said, breathing very fast. She deserved what she got. You keep away from me. He fumbled behind him for the latch on the door. Im going, Harry said. Ive had enough. And in the next moment, he was out in the dark, quiet street, heaving his heavy trunk behind him, Hedwigs cage under his arm. H CHAPTER THREE THE KNIGHT BUS arry was several streets away before he collapsed onto a low wall in Magnolia Crescent, panting from the effort of dragging his trunk. He sat quite still, anger still surging through him, listening to the frantic thumping of his heart. But after ten minutes alone in the dark street, a new emotion overtook him: panic. Whichever way he looked at it, he had never been in a worse fix. He was stranded, quite alone, in the dark Muggle world, with absolutely nowhere to go. And the worst of it was, he had just done serious magic, which meant that he was almost certainly expelled from Hogwarts. He had broken the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry so badly, he was surprised Ministry of Magic representatives werent swooping down on him where he sat. Harry shivered and looked up and down Magnolia Crescent. What was going to happen to him. Would he be arrested, or would he simply be outlawed from the wizarding world. He thought of Ron and Hermione, and his heart sank even lower. Harry was sure that, criminal or not, Ron and Hermione would want to help him now, but they were both abroad, and with Hedwig gone, he had no means of contacting them. He didnt have any Muggle money, either. There was a little wizard gold in the money bag at the bottom of his trunk, but the rest of the fortune his parents had left him was stored in a vault at Gringotts Wizarding Bank in London. Hed never be able to drag his trunk all the way to London. Unless. He looked down at his wand, which he was still clutching in his hand. If he was already expelled (his heart was now thumping painfully fast), a bit more magic couldnt hurt. He had the Invisibility Cloak he had inherited from his father - what if he bewitched the trunk to make it feather-light, tied it to his broomstick, covered himself in the cloak, and flew to London. Then he could get the rest of his money out Counter strike global offensive keys his vault and. begin his life as an outcast. It was a horrible prospect, but he couldnt sit on this wall forever, or hed find himself trying to explain to Muggle police why he was out in the dead of night with a trunkful of spellbooks and a broomstick. Harry opened his trunk again and pushed the contents aside, looking for the Invisibility Cloak - but before he had found it, he straightened up suddenly, looking around him once more. A funny prickling on the back of his neck had made Harry feel he was being watched, but the street appeared to be deserted, and no lights shone from any of the large square houses. He bent over his trunk again, but almost immediately stood up once more, his hand clenched on his wand. He had sensed rather than heard it: Someone or something was standing in the narrow gap between the garage and the fence behind him. Harry squinted at the black alleyway. If only it would move, then hed know whether it was just a stray cat or - something else. Lumos, Harry muttered, and a visit web page appeared at the end of his wand, almost dazzling him. He held it high over his head, and the pebble-dashed walls of number two suddenly sparkled; the garage door gleamed, and between them Harry saw, quite distinctly, the hulking outline of something very big, with wide, gleaming eyes. Harry stepped backward. His legs hit his trunk and he tripped. His wand flew out of his hand as he flung out an arm to break his fall, and he landed, hard, in the gutter - There was a deafening BANG, and Harry threw up his hands to shield his eyes against a sudden blinding light - With a yell, he rolled back onto the pavement, just in time. A second later, a gigantic pair of wheels and headlights screeched to a halt exactly where Harry had just been lying. They belonged, as Harry saw when he raised his head, to a triple-decker, violently purple bus, which had appeared out of thin air. Gold lettering over the windshield spelled The Knight Bus. For a split second, Harry wondered if he had been knocked silly by his fall. Then a conductor in a purple uniform leapt out of the bus and began to speak loudly to the night. Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this eve - The conductor stopped abruptly. He had just caught sight of Harry, who was still sitting on the ground. Harry snatched up his wand again and scrambled to his feet. Close up, he saw that Stan Shunpike was only a few years older than he was, eighteen or nineteen at most, with large, protruding ears and quite a few pimples. What were you doin down there. said Stan, dropping his professional manner. Fell over, said Harry. Choo fall over for. sniggered Stan. I didnt do it on purpose, said Harry, annoyed. One of the knees in his jeans was torn, and the hand he had thrown out to break his fall was bleeding. He suddenly remembered why he had fallen over and turned around quickly to stare at the alleyway development rust companies game the garage and fence. The Knight Buss headlamps were flooding it with light, and it was empty. Choo lookin at. said Stan. There was a big black thing, said Harry, pointing uncertainly into the gap. Like a dog. but massive. He looked around at Stan, whose mouth was slightly open. With a feeling of unease, Harry saw Stans eyes move to the scar on Harrys forehead. Woss that on your ead. said Stan abruptly. Nothing, said Harry quickly, flattening his hair over his scar. If the Ministry of Magic was looking for him, he didnt want to make it too easy for them. Woss your name. Stan persisted. Neville Longbottom, said Harry, saying the first name that came into his head. So - so this bus, he went on quickly, hoping to distract Stan, did you say it goes anywhere. Yep, said Stan proudly, anywhere you like, longs its on land. Cant do nuffink underwater. Ere, he said, looking suspicious again, you did flag us down, dincha. Stuck out your wand and, dincha. Yes, said Harry quickly. Listen, how much would it be to get to London. Eleven Sickles, said Stan, but for firteen you get ot chocolate, and for fifteen you get an ot water bottle an a toofbrush in the color of your choice. Harry rummaged once more in his trunk, extracted his money bag, and shoved some silver into Stans hand. He and Stan then lifted his trunk, with Hedwigs cage balanced Counter strike global offensive keys top, up the steps of the bus. There were no seats; instead, half a dozen brass bedsteads stood beside the curtained windows. Candles were burning in brackets beside each bed, illuminating the wood-paneled walls. A tiny wizard in a nightcap at the rear of the bus muttered, Not now, thanks, Im pickling some slugs and rolled over in his sleep. You ave this one, Stan whispered, shoving Harrys trunk under the bed right behind the driver, who was sitting in an armchair in front of the steering wheel. This is our driver, Ernie Prang. This is Neville Longbottom, Ern. Ernie Prang, an elderly wizard wearing very thick glasses, nodded to Harry, who nervously flattened his bangs again and sat down on his bed. Take er away, Ern, said Stan, sitting down in the armchair next to Ernies. There was another tremendous BANG, and the next moment Harry found himself flat on his bed, thrown backward by the speed of the Knight Bus. Pulling himself up, Harry stared out of the dark window and saw that they were now bowling along a completely different street. Stan was watching Harrys stunned face with great enjoyment. This is where we was before you flagged us down, he said. Where are we, Ern. Article source in Wales. Ar, said Ernie. How come the Muggles dont hear the bus.
Now, when you get into the fire, say where youre going - And keep your elbows tucked in, Ron advised. And your eyes shut, said Mrs. Weasley. The soot - Dont fidget, said Ron. Or you might well fall out of the wrong fireplace - But dont panic and get out too early; wait until you see Fred and George. Trying hard to bear all this in mind, Harry took a pinch of Floo powder and walked to the edge of the fire. He took a deep breath, scattered the powder into the flames, and stepped forward; the fire felt like a warm breeze; he opened his mouth and immediately swallowed a lot of hot ash. D-Dia-gon Alley, he coughed. It felt as though he were being sucked down a giant drain. He seemed to be spinning very fast - the roaring in his ears was deafening - he tried to keep his eyes open but the whirl of green flames made him feel sick - something hard knocked his elbow and he tucked it in tightly, still spinning and spinning - Rust game engine for beginners it felt as though cold hands were slapping his face - squinting through his glasses he saw a blurred stream of fireplaces and snatched glimpses of the rooms beyond - his bacon sandwiches were churning inside him - he closed his eyes again wishing it would stop, and then - He fell, face forward, onto cold stone and felt the bridge of his glasses snap. Dizzy and bruised, covered in soot, he got gingerly to his feet, holding his broken glasses up to his eyes. He was quite alone, but apex legends rampart concept art he was, he had no idea. All he could tell was that he was standing in the stone fireplace of what looked like a large, dimly lit wizards shop - but nothing in here was ever likely to be on a Hogwarts school list. A glass case nearby held a withered hand on a cushion, a bloodstained pack of cards, and a staring glass eye. Evil-looking masks stared down from the walls, an assortment of human bones lay upon the counter, and rusty, spiked instruments hung from the ceiling. Even worse, the dark, narrow street Harry could see through the dusty shop window was definitely not Diagon Alley. The sooner he got out of here, the better. Nose still stinging where it had hit the hearth, Harry made his way swiftly and silently toward the door, but before hed got halfway toward it, two people appeared on the other side of the glass - and one of them was the very last person Harry wanted to meet when he was lost, covered in soot, and wearing broken glasses: Draco Malfoy. Harry looked quickly around and spotted a large black cabinet to his left; he shot inside it and pulled the doors closed, leaving a small crack to peer through. Seconds later, a bell clanged, and Malfoy stepped into the shop. The man who this web page could only be Dracos father. He had the same pale, pointed face and identical cold, gray eyes. Malfoy crossed the shop, looking lazily at the items on display, and rang a bell on the counter before turning to his son and saying, Touch nothing, Draco. Malfoy, who had reached for the glass eye, said, I thought you were going to buy me a present. I said I would buy you a racing broom, said his father, drumming his fingers on the counter. Whats the good of that if Im not on the House team. said Malfoy, looking sulky and bad-tempered. Harry Potter got a Nimbus Two Thousand last year. Special permission from Dumbledore so he could play for Gryffindor. Hes not even that good, its just because hes famous. famous for having a stupid scar on his forehead. Malfoy bent down to examine a shelf full of skulls. everyone thinks hes so smart, wonderful Potter with his scar and his broomstick - You have told me this at least a dozen times already, said Mr. Malfoy, with a quelling look at his son. And I would remind you that it is not - prudent - to appear less than fond of Harry Potter, not when most of our kind regard him as the hero who made the Dark Lord disappear - ah, Mr. Borgin. A stooping man had appeared behind the counter, smoothing his greasy hair back from his face. Malfoy, what a pleasure to see you again, said Mr. Borgin in a voice as oily as his hair. Delighted - and young Master Rust game engine for beginners, too - charmed. How may I be of assistance. I must show you, just in today, and very reasonably priced - Im not buying today, Mr. Borgin, but selling, said Mr. Malfoy. Selling. The smile faded slightly from Mr. Borgins face. You have heard, of course, that the Ministry is conducting more raids, said Mr. Malfoy, taking a roll of parchment from his inside pocket and unraveling it for Rust game engine for beginners. Borgin to read. I have a few - ah - items at home that might embarrass me, if the Ministry were to call. Borgin fixed a pair of pince-nez to his nose and looked down the list. The Ministry wouldnt presume to trouble you, sir, surely. Malfoys lip curled. I have not been visited yet. The name Malfoy still commands a certain respect, yet the Ministry grows ever more meddlesome. There are just click for source about a new Muggle Protection Act - no doubt that flea-bitten, Muggleloving fool Arthur Weasley is behind it - Harry felt a hot surge of anger. - and as you see, certain of these poisons might make it appear - I understand, sir, of course, said Mr. Borgin. Let me see. Can I have that. interrupted Draco, pointing at the withered hand on its cushion. Ah, the Hand of Glory. said Mr. Borgin, abandoning Mr. Malfoys list and scurrying over to Draco. Insert a candle and it gives light only to the holder. Best friend of thieves and plunderers. Your son has fine taste, sir. I hope my son will amount to more than a thief or a plunderer, Borgin, said Mr. Malfoy coldly, and Mr. Borgin said quickly, No offense, sir, no offense meant - Though if his grades dont pick up, said Mr. Malfoy, more coldly still, that may indeed be Rust game engine for beginners he is fit for - Its not my fault, retorted Draco. The teachers all have favorites, that Hermione Granger - I would have thought youd be ashamed that a girl of no wizard family beat you in every exam, snapped Mr. Malfoy. said Harry under his breath, pleased to see Draco looking both abashed and angry. Its the same all over, said Mr. Borgin, in his oily voice. Wizard blood is counting for less everywhere - Not with me, said Mr. Malfoy, his long nostrils flaring. No, sir, nor with me, sir, said Mr. Borgin, with a deep bow. In that case, perhaps we can return to my list, said Mr. Malfoy shortly. I am in something of a hurry, Borgin, I have important business elsewhere today - They started to haggle. Harry watched nervously as Draco drew nearer and nearer to his hiding place, examining Rust game engine for beginners objects for sale. Draco paused to examine a long coil of hangmans rope and to read, smirking, the card please click for source on a magnificent necklace of opals, Caution: Do Not Touch. Cursed - Has Claimed the Lives of Nineteen Muggle Owners to Date. Draco turned away and saw the cabinet right in front of him. He walked forward - he stretched out his hand for the handle - Done, said Mr. Malfoy at the counter.
Certainly. It was and with me.