Angelina took the new book from Oliver when all of a sudden there was a flash of light that filled the room.

"Not another one," Ron muttered.

When it cleared, the Weasley brood was amazed to see their little sister and a blond girl with a dreamy look who was wearing Ravenclaw robes.

"Bill!" Ginny squealed and ran over to him. "Charlie!

"Hey little snap dragon," Charlie said returning the hug.

"What are you two doing here?"

"What are we? Chopped liver?" Fred asked.

"I see you everyday." Ginny explained but hugged her remaining brothers anyway. After that was done, she walked over to the other girl. "This is my friend Luna."

"I think the crumpled horned snorklack brought us here," Luna said simply.

"Don't ask," Ginny said simply. Then she noticed who else was there and flushed when she noticed Harry. She was holding a bag, which a corner of a black book could be seen. Ginny sat between her two eldest brothers.

"Ready to read?" Oliver asked.

Ginny looked interested, and nodded. Angelina said "This book is titled Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets."

Everyone gasped.

"You mean it's real?" Cho asked.

"Only one way to find out," Cedric said and nodded for Angelina to begin.

"THE WORST BIRTHDAY," Angelina read.

"It had to begin with this," Harry muttered.

Not for the first time, an argument had broken out over breakfast at number four, Privet Drive. Mr. Vernon Dursley had been woken in the early hours of the morning by a loud, hooting noise from his nephew Harry's room.

"He's upset about THAT?" the twins asked. "If I were him, I'd be more upset with my resemblance to a walrus."

"Third time this week!" he roared across the table. "If you can't control that owl, it'll have to go!"

"Can the same be said for your son?" Fred asked.

Harry tried, yet again, to explain.

"Don't waste your breath," Alicia muttered.

"She's bored," he said. "She's used to flying around outside. If I could just let her out at night -"

"They didn't let you let her out?" Hermione asked Harry. At his nod, she seemed to swell with righteous anger. Ginny even seemed to crackle at that. Everyone seemed angry as well, but not as much as those two girls.

"Do I look stupid." snarled Uncle Vernon, a bit of fried egg dangling from his bushy mustache.

"Yes," all but Ginny and Luna chorused. Ginny was still contemplating a prank on the Dursley's and Luna was simply enjoying the book.

"I know what'll happen if that owl's let out."

"She'll hunt and maybe excrete waste," Alicia said as if she was talking to a two year old.

He exchanged dark looks with his wife, Petunia.

Harry tried to argue back but his words were drowned by a long, loud belch from the Dursleys' son, Dudley.

"Pig," the trio and Ginny muttered.

"Now Harry," Oliver said, "don't insult the poor pig."

"I want more bacon."

"I want you to leave," Neville muttered.

"There's more in the frying pan, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia, turning misty eyes on her massive son. "We must build you up while we've got the chance ... I don't like the sound of that school food ..."

"Nonsense, Petunia, I never went hungry when I was at Smeltings," said Uncle Vernon heartily. "Dudley gets enough, don't you, son." Dudley, who was so large his bottom drooped over either side of the kitchen chair, grinned and turned to Harry.

"Pass the frying pan."

"No, you fat pig." Cedric said with a glare.

"You've forgotten the magic word," said Harry irritably.

"Me thinks this isn't going to end well," Lee said.

The effect of this simple sentence on the rest of the family was incredible; Dudley gasped and fell off his chair with a crash that shook the whole kitchen;

"The floor's actually dented," Harry told a snickering room.

"I'm not surprised." Ron said with a chuckle.

Mrs. Dursley gave a small scream and clapped her hands to her mouth; Mr. Dursley jumped to his feet, veins throbbing in his temples.

"You live with the most dramatic people in the world," Cho told Harry.

"I meant `please'!" said Harry quickly.

"I didn't mean -" "WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU," thundered his uncle, spraying spit over the table,

"Ugh, walrus germs!" Ron shuddered.

"ABOUT SAYING THE `M' WORD IN OUR HOUSE."

"This is ridiculous," Katie rolled her eyes.

"But I -"

"HOW DARE YOU THREATEN DUDLEY!" roared Uncle Vernon, pounding the table with his fist.

"I didn't hear a threat. Did you Gred?"

"No, I didn't. You Ron?"

"Nope."

"I just -"

"I WARNED YOU! I WILL NOT TOLERATE MENTION OF YOUR ABNORMALITY UNDER THIS ROOF!" Harry stared from his purple-faced uncle to his pale aunt, who was trying to heave Dudley to his feet.

"Abnormality?" Bill and Charlie hissed. Lee narrowed his eyes and Neville frowned. He knew more than anyone how it felt to be treated like a…someone who wasn't normal by the rest of your family.

"All right," said Harry, "all right. . . " Uncle Vernon sat back down, breathing like a winded rhinoceros and watching Harry closely out of the corners of his small, sharp eyes.

Ever since Harry had come home for the summer holidays, Uncle Vernon had been treating him like a bomb that might go off at any moment, because Harry Potter wasn't a normal boy. As a matter of fact, he was as not normal as it is possible to be.

"Yes he is!" All but Ginny protested.

"He's just as normal as me," Luna said in a calm voice. Cho shot her a skeptical look.

a wizard fresh from his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And if the Dursleys were unhappy to have him back for the holidays, it was nothing to how Harry felt.

He missed Hogwarts so much it was like having a constant stomachache. He missed the castle, with its secret passageways and ghosts, his classes (though perhaps not Snape, the Potions master),

"Who would miss him?" Lee asked.

"Malfoy," Fred responded.

the mail arriving by owl, eating banquets in the Great Hall, sleeping in his four-poster bed in the tower dormitory, visiting the gamekeeper, Hagrid, in his cabin next to the Forbidden Forest in the grounds, and, especially, Quidditch, the most popular sport in the wizarding world (six tall goal posts, four flying balls, and fourteen players on broomsticks).

All Harry's spellbooks, his wand, robes, cauldron, and top-of-the-line Nimbus Two Thousand broomstick had been locked in a cupboard under the stairs by Uncle Vernon the instant Harry had come home.

"WHAT?" Cho, Percy and Hermione yelled.

"That's no way to treat that broom!" Fred glared.

"Fred, forget the broom. How could he do his homework?" Bill said, ignoring the glare he got from Charlie.

What did the Dursleys care if Harry lost his place on the House Quidditch team because he hadn't practiced all summer?

"You thought you'd be kicked off?" Oliver asked amazed. "Merlin Harry! You're not the youngest seeker in a century because McGonagall likes you!"

Harry flushed, but the rest of the team nodded to Oliver's words.

What was it to the Dursleys if Harry went back to school without any of his homework done?

"You'd probably be behind, and in detention." Alicia said with a glare to the book.

The Dursleys were what wizards called Muggles (not a drop of magical blood in their veins), and as far as they were concerned, having a wizard in the family was a matter of deepest shame.

Katie glared at the book.

"They should be proud," Hermione sniffed.

Uncle Vernon had even padlocked Harry's owl, Hedwig, inside her cage, to stop her from carrying messages to anyone in the wizarding world.

Harry looked nothing like the rest of the family.

"Thank Merlin," Harry said fervently.

"We agree," Ron nodded.

Uncle Vernon was large and neckless, with an enormous black mustache; Aunt Petunia was horse-faced and bony; Dudley was blond, pink, and porky. Harry, on the other hand, was small and

skinny, with brilliant green eyes and jet-black hair that was always untidy. He wore round glasses, and on his forehead was a thin, lightning-shaped scar.

It was this scar that made Harry so particularly unusual, even for a wizard. This scar was the only hint of Harry's very mysterious past, of the reason he had been left on the Dursleys' doorstep eleven years before.

"You poor, poor, boy." Alicia said softly.

At the age of one year old, Harry had somehow survived a curse from the greatest Dark sorcerer of all time, Lord Voldemort, whose name most witches and wizards still feared to speak. Harry's parents had died in Voldemort's attack, but Harry had escaped with his lightning scar, and somehow - nobody understood why Voldemort's powers had been destroyed the instant he had failed to kill Harry.

"Why do we need to hear this again?" Fred asked.

"In case we haven't read the first book," Hermione said.

So Harry had been brought up by his dead mother's sister and her husband. He had spent ten years with the Dursleys, never understanding why he kept making odd things happen without meaning to, believing the Dursleys' story that he had got his scar in the car crash that had killed his parents.

"A car crash?" Ginny, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Lee and Neville yelled. Luna, though she didn't yell, narrowed her eyes a little.

And then, exactly a year ago, Hogwarts had written to Harry, and the whole story had come out. Harry had taken up his place at wizard school, where he and his scar were famous ... but now the school year was over, and he was back with the Dursleys for the summer, back to being treated like a dog that had rolled in something smelly.

Everyone glared at the book, except for Luna. The twins began to mutter to each other.

The Dursleys hadn't even remembered that today happened to be Harry's twelfth birthday. Of course, his hopes hadn't been high;

they'd never given him a real present, let alone a cake - but to ignore it completely ...

At that moment, Uncle Vernon cleared his throat importantly and said, "Now, as we all know, today is a very important day." Harry looked up, hardly daring to believe it.

"Neither can we," Oliver said stunned.

"This could well be the day I make the biggest deal of my career, "said Uncle Vernon.

"Who cares?" Angelina and Cho rolled their eyes.

Harry went back to his toast. Of course, he thought bitterly, Uncle Vernon was talking about the stupid dinner party. He'd been talk ing of nothing else for two weeks. Some rich builder and his wife were coming to dinner and Uncle Vernon was hoping to get a huge order from him (Uncle Vernon's company made drills).

"And that's more important than your nephew's birthday?" Katie said incredulously.

"I think we should run through the schedule one more time," said Uncle Vernon. "We should all be in position at eight o'clock. Petunia, you will be -."

"In the lounge," said Aunt Petunia promptly, "waiting to welcome them graciously to our home."

"They plan their parties?" Lee asked.

"Good, good. And Dudley."

"I'll be waiting to open the door." Dudley put on a foul, simpering smile. "May I take your coats, Mr. and Mrs. Mason."

"They'll love him!" cried Aunt Petunia rapturously.

"No, they'll run away screaming," Fred scoffed.

"Excellent, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon. Then he rounded on Harry.

"And you." "I'll be in my bedroom, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," said Harry tonelessly.

"Some birthday," Everyone, yes even Luna, glared at the book. One shouldn't have to hide in their own house on their birthday no less.

"Exactly," said Uncle Vernon nastily. "I will lead them into the lounge, introduce you, Petunia, and pour them -drinks. At eight-fifteen -" "I'll announce dinner," said Aunt Petunia.

"And, Dudley, you'll say -" "May I take you through to the dining room, Mrs. Mason." said Dudley, offering his fat arm to an invisible woman.

"My perfect little gentleman!" sniffed Aunt Petunia.

Everyone rolled their eyes. Ginny even gagged.

"And you." said Uncle Vernon viciously to Harry.

"I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," said Harry dully.

"We heard you the first time," Charlie growled.

"Precisely. Now, we should aim to get in a few good compliments at dinner. Petunia, any ideas?"

"They plan their complements?" Katie and Percy asked.

"They are very boring," Harry shrugged. Ron snorted.

"Vernon tells me you're a wonderful golfer, Mr. Mason... Do tell me where you bought your dress, Mrs. Mason ...

"Perfect. . . Dudley." "How about -'We had to write an essay about our hero at school, Mr. Mason, and I wrote about you." '

"Who would fall for that?" Neville asked after everyone recovered from his or her laughter.

"My relatives and anyone as dumb as them," Harry said.

This was too much for both Aunt Petunia and Harry. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and hugged her son, while Harry ducked under the table so they wouldn't see him laughing.

"Smart move, mate."

"And you, boy." Harry fought to keep his face straight as he emerged.

"Good plan," Cho nodded

"I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," he said.

"How many times did you have to say that?" Bill asked.

"Too many," Harry told him.

"Too right, you will," said Uncle Vernon forcefully. "The Masons don't know anything about you and it's going to stay that way.

When dinner's over, you take Mrs. Mason back to the lounge for coffee, Petunia, and I'll bring the subject around to drills. With any luck, I'll have the deal signed and sealed before the news at ten. Be shopping for a vacation home in Majorca this time tomorrow."

"Why do we care?" Percy asked.

"They like to think they're important," Harry shrugged.

Harry couldn't feel too excited about this. He didn't think the Dursleys would like him any better in Majorca than they did on Privet Drive.

"That is if they even took you mate," Oliver frowned.

"Good point."

"Right - I'm off into town to pick up the dinner jackets for Dudley and me. And you," he snarled at Harry. "You stay out of your aunt's way while she's cleaning."

"Don't mums like to include people who get in their way in the cleaning process?" Cho asked.

"Yep." Cedric nodded.

"Then that fat git helped Harry," Fred gasped.

Harry left through the back door. It was a brilliant, sunny day.

He crossed the lawn, slumped down on the garden bench, and sang under his breath:

"Happy birthday to me ... happy birthday to me. . ."

"That's just sad," Neville said softly.

No cards, no presents, and he would be spending the evening pretending not to exist. He gazed miserably into the hedge. He had never felt so lonely. More than anything else at Hogwarts, more even than playing Quidditch, Harry missed his best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. They, however, didn't seem to be missing him at all.

"We did," Hermione defended herself and Ron nodded.

Neither of them had written to him all summer, even though Ron had said he was going to ask Harry to come and stay.

The Gryffindor chasers sent a glare to Hermione and Ron for leaving Harry all alone in that horrid house.

Countless times, Harry had been on the point of unlocking Hedwig's cage by magic and sending her to Ron and Hermione with a letter, but it wasn't worth the risk. Underage wizards weren't allowed to use magic outside of school. Harry hadn't told the Dursleys this; he knew it was only their terror that he might turn them all into dung beetles that stopped them from locking him in the cupboard under the stairs with his wand and broomstick.

"Ah, what a brilliant idea." Lee smirked. "Turn them into the creatures they are."

Everyone else who'd been there at the beginning of the first book frowned at the mention of the cupboard. Did Harry have to go in there again?

For the first couple of weeks back, Harry had enjoyed muttering nonsense words under his breath and watching Dudley tearing out of the room as fast as his fat legs would carry him.

"So not very fast," Oliver muttered.

But the long silence from Ron and Hermione had made Harry feel so cut off from the magical world that even taunting Dudley had lost its appeal - and now Ron and Hermione had forgotten his birthday.

What wouldn't he give now for a message from Hogwarts. From any witch or wizard. He'd almost be glad of a sight of his archenemy, Draco Malfoy,

"How desperate were you?" George asked.

"Very." Harry told him.

just to be sure it hadn't all been a dream ...

Not that his whole year at Hogwarts had been fun. At the very end of last term, Harry had come face-to-face with none other than Lord Voldemort himself. Voldemort might be a ruin of his former self, but he was still terrifying, still cunning, still determined to regain power.

"Please don't remind us," Cedric shuddered.

Harry had slipped through Voldemort's clutches for a second time, but it had been a narrow escape, and even now, weeks later, Harry kept waking in the night, drenched in cold sweat, wondering where Voldemort was now, remembering his livid face, his wide, mad eyes.

Everyone looked at Harry. Ron shot his friend a smile. He knew what it was like to have nightmares—the first five weeks of the last summer for instance—but he knew that his couldn't be as bad as Harry's.

Harry suddenly sat bolt upright on the garden bench. He had been staring absent-mindedly into the hedge - and the hedge was staring back.

"Hedges don't have that ability." Cho said confused.

Two enormous green eyes had appeared among the leaves.

"Oh," Cho smiled. Then it changed into a frown. "Why is there someone in your hedge?"

Harry jumped to his feet just as a jeering voice floated across the lawn.

"I know what day it is," sang Dudley, waddling toward him.

The huge eyes blinked and vanished.

"What?" said Harry, not taking his eyes off the spot where they had been.

"I know what day it is," Dudley repeated, coming right up to him.

"Well done," said Harry. "So you've finally learned the days of the week."

"Nice one Harry!" the twins yelled and high fived him.

"Today's your birthday," sneered Dudley. "How come you haven't got any cards. Haven't you even got friends at that freak place."

Everyone turned to Ron and Hermione.

"Why aren't you writing him?" Alicia asked.

Ginny said "But he did. He sent about twelve letters with Errol." Then, when Harry turned to look at her, she clamed up and turned bright red.

"Better not let your mum hear you talking about my school," said Harry coolly.

Dudley hitched up his trousers, which were slipping down his fat bottom.

"Why're you staring at the hedge." he said suspiciously.

I'm trying to decide what would be the best spell to set it on fire," said Harry.

Dudley stumbled backward at once, a look of panic on his fat face.

Everyone chuckled at this.

"You c-can't - Dad told you you're not to do m-magic - he said he'll chuck you out of the house - and you haven't got anywhere else to go - you haven't got any friends to take you -"

"Jiggery pokery!" said Harry in a fierce voice. "Hocus pocus squiggly wiggly -"

Everyone burst out laughing.

"He thinks this is really magic?" Fred asked.

"Yep." Harry said through his laughter.

"MUUUUUUM!" howled Dudley, tripping over his feet as he dashed back toward the house. "MUUUUM! He's doing you know what!"

Harry paid dearly for his moment of fun. As neither Dudley nor the hedge was in any way hurt, Aunt Petunia knew he hadn't really done magic,

"So you won't be punished," Katie grinned but Angelina frowned as she read the next part.

but he still had to duck as she aimed a heavy blow at his head with the soapy frying pan.

"That's child abuse!" Fred yelled. Ron looked over at his best friend.

"Mate," he said. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"There were more important things on my mind. Like the house elf."

Oliver, who was plotting with the twins on how to get back at the muggles, said, "Harry, nothing is more important than your safety."

Then she gave him work to do, with the promise he wouldn't eat again until he'd finished.

"Prank number 567?"

"Combine that with 678."

Everyone who was nearby the plotters looked nervous and thankful that they weren't the Dursleys.

While Dudley lolled around watching and eating ice cream, Harry cleaned the windows, washed the car, mowed the lawn, trimmed the flowerbeds, pruned and watered the roses, and repainted the garden bench. The sun blazed overhead, burning the back of his neck. Harry knew he shouldn't have risen to Dudley's bait, but Dudley had said the very thing Harry had been thinking himself... maybe he didn't have any friends at Hogwarts ...

"Yes you do!" Hermione and Ron said firmly.

Wish they could see famous Harry Potter now, he thought savagelyas he spread manure on the flower beds, his back aching, sweat running down his face.

"The muggles are probably infected with wrackspirts," Luna said making everyone jump. She'd been so quiet they'd forgotten she was there.

"What are wrackspirts?" Harry asked.

"They're invisible creatures that crawl into your head and make your brain go fuzzy."

It was half past seven, in the evening when at last, exhausted, he heard Aunt Petunia calling him.

"Half past SEVEN?" Angelina asked in a deadly whisper. Ginny, who'd been blushing and being silent due to being in the same area as Harry Potter, whispered over to the twins. "Whatever you're plotting, count me in."

"Will do little sister." George grinned.

"Get in here! And walk on the newspaper!" Harry moved gladly into the shade of the gleaming kitchen. On top of the fridge stood tonight's pudding: a huge mound of whipped cream and sugared violets. A loin of roast pork was sizzling in the oven.

"Five galleons says that Harry gets none of that," Alicia glared at the book. Ginny was furious. How could someone treat the Boy who Lived this way?

"I'm not taking that bet," Oliver said also glaring at the book.

"Eat quickly! The Masons will be here soon!" snapped Aunt Petunia, pointing to two slices of bread and a lump of cheese on the kitchen table.

"WHAT!" Everyone except for Luna yelled. Ginny was glaring at the book, and fingering her wand. She was itching to hex these Dursleys.

"That's not a meal!" Hermione yelled. "That's a snack at best!"

She was already wearing a salmon-pink cocktail dress.

Harry washed his hands and bolted down his pitiful supper. The moment he had finished, Aunt Petunia whisked away his plate.

"Upstairs! Hurry!" As he passed the door to the living room, Harry caught a glimpse of Uncle Vernon and Dudley in bow ties and dinner jackets.

"You poor thing," Katie shook her head.

He had only just reached the upstairs landing when the door bell rang and Uncle Vernon's furious face appeared at the foot of the stairs.

"Remember, boy - one sound -"

Harry crossed to his bedroom on tiptoe slipped inside, closed the door, and turned to collapse on his bed.

"Always a good idea," Cedric nodded.

The trouble was, there was already someone sitting on it.

"Who?" Cho asked.

"That's the end of the chapter," Angelina said. "Who's next?" "Alicia," Harry said. Angelina handed the book to Alicia. "The next chapter is titled Dobby's Warning."