"Quite right, were operating to a very tight schedule," said Dedalus nodding at his
watch and tucking it back into his waist coat. "We are attempting to time your departure
from the house with your family's Disapparition, Harry thus the charm breaks the
moment you all head for safety." He turned to the Dursleys, "Well, are we all packed and
ready to go?"
None of them answered him. Uncle Vernon was still staring appalled at the bulge
in Dedalus's waistcoat pocket.
"Perhaps we should wait outside in the hall, Dedalus," murmured Hestia. She
clearly felt that it would be tactless for them to remain the room while Harry and the
Dursleys exchanged loving, possibly tearful farewells.
"There's no need," Harry muttered, but Uncle Vernon made any further
explanation unnecessary by saying loudly,
"Well, this is good-bye then boy."
He swung his right arm upward to shake Harry's hand, but at the last moment
seemed unable to face it, and merely closed his fist and began swinging it backward and
forward like a metronome.
"Ready, Duddy?" asked Petunia, fussily checking the clasp of her handbag so as
to avoid looking at Harry altogether.
Dudley did not answer but stood there with his mouth slightly ajar, reminding
Harry a little of the giant, Grawp.
"Come along, then," said Uncle Vernon.
He had already reached the living room door when Dudley mumbled, "I don't
understand."
"What don't you understand, popkin?" asked Petunia looking up at her son.
Dudley raised a large, hamlike hand to point at Harry.
"Why isn't he coming with us?
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia froze when they stood staring at Dudley as
though he had just expressed a desire to become a ballerina.
"What?" said Uncle Vernon loudly.
"Why isn't he coming too?" asked Dudley.
"Well, he—doesn't want to," said Uncle Vernon, turning to glare at Harry and
adding, "You don't want to, do you?"
"Not in the slightest," said Harry.
"There you are," Uncle Vernon told Dudley. "Now come on we're off."
He marched out of the room. They heard the front door open, but Dudley did not
move and after a few faltering steps Aunt Petunia stopped too.
"What now?" barked Uncle Vernon, reappearing in the doorway.
It seemed that Dudley was struggling with concepts too difficult to put into words.
After several moments of apparently painful internal struggle he said, "But where's he
going to go?"
Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon looked at each other. It was clear that Dudley
was frightening them. Hestia Jones broke the silence.
"But... surely you know where your nephew is going?" she asked looking
bewildered.
"Certainly we know," said Vernon Dursley. "He's off with some of your lot, isn't
he? Right, Dudley, let's get in the car, you heard the man, we're in a hurry.

Again, Vernon Dursley marched as far as the front door, but Dudley did not
follow.
"Off with some of our lot?"
Hestia looked outraged. Harry had met this attitude before Witches and wizards
seemed stunned that his closed living relatives took so little interest in the famous Harry
Potter.
"It's fine," Harry assured her. "It doesn't matter, honestly."
"Doesn't matter?" repeated Hestia, her voice rising considerably.
"Don't these people realize what you've been through? What danger you are in?
The unique position you hold in the hearts of the anti Voldemort movement?"
"Er -no, they don't," said Harry. "They think I'm a waste of space, actually but I'm
used to -"
"I don't think you're a waste of space"
If Harry had not seen Dudley's lips move, he might not have believed it. As it was,
he stared at Dudley for several seconds before accepting that it must have been his cousin
who had spoken; for one thing, Dudley had turned red. Harry was embarrassed and
astonished himself.
"Well... er... thanks, Dudley."
Again, Dudley appeared to grapple with thoughts too unwieldy for expression
before mumbling, "You saved my life,"
"Not really," said Harry. "It was your soul the dementor would have taken..."
He looked curiously at his cousin. They had had virtually no contact during this
summer or last, as Harry had come back to Privet Drive so briefly and kept to his room so
much. It now dawned on Harry, however, that the cup of cold tea on which he had
trodden that morning might not have been a booby trap at all. Although rather touched he
was nevertheless quite relieved that Dudley appeared to have exhausted his ability to
express his feelings. After opening his mouth once or twice more, Dudley subsided into
scarlet-faced silence.
Aunt Petunia burst into tears. Hestia Jones gave her an approving look that
changed to outrage as Aunt Petunia ran forward and embraced Dudley rather than Harry.
"S-so sweet, Dudders..." she sobbed into his massive chest. "S-such a lovely b-boy... s-
saying thank you..."
"But he hasn't said thank you at all!" said Hestia indignantly. "He only said he
didn't think Harry was a waste of space!"
"Yea but coming from Dudley that's like 'I love you,'" said Harry, torn between
annoyance and a desire to laugh as Aunt Petunia continued to clutch at Dudley as if he
had just saved Harry from a burning building.
"Are we going or not?" roared Uncle Vernon, reappearing yet again at the living
room door. "I thought we were on a tight schedule!"
"Yes -yes, we are," said Dedalus Diggle, who had been watching these exchanged
with an air of bemusement and now seemed to pull himself together. "We really must be
off. Harry -"
He tripped forward and wrung Harry's hand with both of his own.
"—good luck. I hope we meet again. The hopes of the Wizarding world rest upon
your shoulders."
"Oh," said Harry, "right. Thanks."

"Farwell, Harry," said Hestia also clasping his hand. "Our thoughts go with you."
"I hope everything's okay," said Harry with a glance toward Aunt Petunia and
Dudley.
"Oh I'm sure we shall end up the best of chums," said Diggle slightly, waving his
hat as he left the room. Hestia followed him.
Dudley gently released himself from his mother's clutches and walked toward
Harry who had to repress an urge to threaten him with magic. Then Dudley held out his
large, pink hand.
"Blimey, Dudley," said Harry over Aunt Petunia's renewed sobs, "did the
dementors blow a different personality into you?"
"Dunno," muttered Dudley, "See you, Harry."
"Yea ..." said Harry, raking Dudley's hand and shaking it. "Maybe. Take care,
Big D."
Dudley nearly smiled. They lumbered from the room. Harry heard his heavy
footfalls on the graveled drive, and then a car door slammed.
Aunt Petunia whose face had been buried in her handkerchief looked around at
the sound. She did not seem to have expected to find herself alone with Harry. Hastily
stowing her wet handkerchief into her pocket, she said, "Well - good-bye" and marched
towards the door without looking at him.
"Good-bye" said Harry.
She stopped and looked back. For a moment Harry had the strangest feeling that
she wanted to say something to him; She gave him an odd, tremulous look and seemed to
teeter on the edge of speech, but then, with a little of her head, she hustled out of the
room after he husband and son.