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But five o’clock came and then went. Uncle Vernon, perspiring slightly in his suit, opened the front door, peered up and down the street, then withdrew his head quickly.

“They’re late!” he snarled at Harry.

“I know,” said Harry. “Maybe—er—the traffic’s bad, or something.”

Ten past five… then a quarter past five… Harry was starting to feel anxious himself now. At half past, he heard Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia conversing in terse mutters in the living room.

“No consideration at all.”

“We might’ve had an engagement.”

“Maybe they think they’ll get invited to dinner if they’re late.”

“Well, they most certainly won’t be,” said Uncle Vernon, and Harry heard him stand up and start pacing the living room. “They’ll take the boy and go, there’ll be no hanging around. That’s if they’re coming at all. Probably mistaken the day. I daresay their kind don’t set much store by punctuality. Either that or they drive some tin pot car that’s broken d—AAAAAAAARRRRRGH!”

Harry jumped up. From the other side of the living room door came the sounds of the three Dursleys scrambling, panic stricken, across the room. Next moment Dudley came flying into the hall, looking terrified.

“What happened?” said Harry. “What’s the matter?”

But Dudley didn’t seem able to speak. Hands still clamped over his buttocks, he waddled as fast as he could into the kitchen. Harry hurried into the living room.

Loud bangings and scrapings were coming from behind the Dursleys’ boarded up fireplace, which had a fake coal fire plugged in front of it.

“What is it?” gasped Aunt Petunia, who had backed into the wall and was staring, terrified, toward the fire. “What is it, Vernon?”

But they were left in doubt barely a second longer. Voices could be heard from inside the blocked fireplace.

“Ouch! Fred, no—go back, go back, there’s been some kind of mistake—tell George not to—OUCH! George, no, there’s no room, go back quickly and tell Ron—”

“Maybe Harry can hear us, Dad—maybe he’ll be able to let us out—”

There was a loud hammering of fists on the boards behind the electric fire.

“Harry? Harry, can you hear us?”

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1. A door to his left flew open and Professor McGonagall emerged from her office looking grim and slightly harassed.
2. A violently purple, triple-decker bus had appeared out of thin air in front of them, narrowly avoiding the nearest lamppost, which jumped backwards out of its way.
3. An aged witch stood in front of him, holding a tray of what looked horribly like whole human fingernails. She leered at him, showing mossy teeth. Harry backed away.
4. And Harry fell again through the silver surface, landing this time right in front of a man he recognized at once.
5. And Harry’s feet left the floor to fall, seconds later, back onto the rug in front of Dumbledore’s desk.
6. And to Harry’s horror, she withdrew from her pocket the list of names that had been pinned upon the Room of Requirement’s wall and handed it to Fudge.
7. Aunt Petunia’s thin, horsy face now appeared beside Uncle Vernon’s wide, purple one. She looked livid.
8. Bagman looked slightly perturbed.
9. Both Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon looked around instinctively, as though expecting to see someone other than Dudley squeezed between them.
10. Brow furrowed, Frank inclined his good ear still closer to the door, listening very hard. There was a pause, and then the man called Wormtail spoke again.
11. But a reckless rage had come over Harry. He kicked his trunk open, pulled out his wand, and pointed it at Uncle Vernon.

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