Harry and Percy Potter

Chapter 3

The escape of the Brazilian boa constrictor earned Harry his longest-ever punishment. By the time he was allowed out of his cupboard again, the summer holidays had started and Dudley had already broken his new video camera, crashed his remote control airplane, and, first time out on his racing bike, knocked down old Mrs. Figg as she crossed Privet Drive on her crutches.

　　Harry was glad school was over, but there was no escaping Dudley's gang, who visited the house every single day. Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon were all big and stupid, but as Dudley was the biggest and stupidest of the lot, he was the leader. The rest of them were all quite happy to join in Dudley's favorite sport: Harry Hunting.

To Harry's relief, Percy, along with Bianca, decided to spend most of his time with Percy, not giving Dudley's gang much opportunity to bully Harry.

The only drawback to spending a lot of time with Percy was the girls, apparently, Percy was "Quite attractive," with "Sea-green eyes you could drown in." Girls would constantly flirt or hit on Percy, and sometimes they would just watch him from afar, but they were always around.

　　One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving Harry and Percy at Mrs. Figg's. Mrs. Figg wasn't as bad as usual. It turned out she'd broken her leg tripping over one of her cats, and she didn't seem quite as fond of them as before. She let them watch television and gave them a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she'd had it for several years.

　　That evening, Dudley paraded around the living room for the family in his brand-new uniform. Smeltings' boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers, and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitting each other while the teachers weren't looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life.

　　As he looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Vernon said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn't believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins, he looked so handsome and grown-up. Harry didn't trust himself to speak. He thought two of his ribs might already have cracked from trying not to laugh.

　　The next morning, they were eating breakfast in the kitchen, when they heard the click of the mail slot and flop of letters on the doormat.

　　"Get the mail, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon from behind his paper.

　　"Make Harry or Percy get it."

　　"Get the mail, Harry."

　　"Make Dudley get it."

　　"Poke him with your Smelting stick, Dudley."

　　Harry dodged the Smelting stick and went to get the mail. Three things lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister Marge, who was vacationing on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and -- a letter for Harry and Percy.

　　Harry picked it up and stared at it, his heart twanging like a giant elastic band. No one, ever, in his whole life, had written to him and Percy. Who would? They had no other relatives -- they didn't belong to the library, so they'd never even got rude notes asking for books back. Yet here it was, a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake:

　　Mr. H. Potter and Mr. P. Potter

　　The Cupboard under the Stairs

　　4 Privet Drive

　　Little Whinging

　　 Surrey

　　The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink. There was no stamp.