2 THE VANISHING GLASS

Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to findtheir nephew on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed atall. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brassnumber four on the Dursleys' front door; it crept into their livingroom, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night whenMr. Dursley had seen that fateful news report about the owls. Only thephotographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed.Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like alarge pink beach ball wearing different-colored bonnets -- but DudleyDursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a largeblond boy riding his first bicycle, on a carousel at the fair, playing acomputer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother.The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house, too.Yet Harry Potter was still there, asleep at the moment, but not forlong. His Aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice that madethe first noise of the day."Up! Get up! Now!"Harry woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again."Up!" she screeched. Harry heard her walking toward the kitchen and thenthe sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. He rolled onto hisback and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a good one. There had been a flying motorcycle in it. He had a funnyfeeling he'd had the same dream before.His aunt was back outside the door."Are you up yet?" she demanded."Nearly," said Harry."Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don't youdare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday."Harry groaned."What did you say?" his aunt snapped through the door."Nothing, nothing..."Dudley's birthday -- how could he have forgotten? Harry got slowly outof bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair under his bed and,after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on. Harry was used tospiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, andthat was where he slept.When he was dressed he went down the hall into the kitchen. The tablewas almost hidden beneath all Dudley's birthday presents. It looked asthough Dudley had gotten the new computer he wanted, not to mention thesecond television and the racing bike. Exactly why Dudley wanted aracing bike was a mystery to Harry, as Dudley was very fat and hatedexercise -- unless of course it involved punching somebody. Dudley'sfavorite punching bag was Harry, but he couldn't often catch him. Harrydidn't look it, but he was very fast.Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harryhad always been small and skinny for his age. He looked even smaller andskinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothesof Dudley's, and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was. Harryhad a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair, and bright green eyes. Hewore round glasses held together with a lot of Scotch tape because ofall the times Dudley had punched him on the nose. The only thing Harryliked about his own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead thatwas shaped like a bolt of lightning. He had had it as long as he couldremember, and the first question he could ever remember asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had gotten it."In the car crash when your parents died," she had said. "And don't askquestions."Don't ask questions -- that was the first rule for a quiet life with theDursleys.Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon."Comb your hair!" he barked, by way of a morning greeting.About once a week, Uncle Vernon looked over the top of his newspaper and shouted that Harry needed a haircut. Harry must have had more haircutsthan the rest of the boys in his class puttogether, but it made no difference, his hair simply grew that way --all over the place.Harry was frying eggs by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with hismother. Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face,not much neck, small, watery blue eyes, and thick blond hair that laysmoothly on his thick, fat head. Aunt Petunia often said that Dudleylooked like a baby angel -- Harry often said that Dudley looked like apig in a wig.Harry put the plates of egg and bacon on the table, which was difficultas there wasn't much room. Dudley, meanwhile, was counting his presents.His face fell."Thirty-six," he said, looking up at his mother and father. "That's twoless than last year.""Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's hereunder this big one from Mommy and Daddy.""All right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face.Harry, who could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began wolfing downhis bacon as fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over.Aunt Petunia obviously scented danger, too, because she said quickly,"And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How'sthat, popkin? Two more presents. Is that all right'' Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work. Finally he saidslowly, "So I'll have thirty ... thirty...""Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia."Oh." Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All rightthen."Uncle Vernon chuckled. "Little tyke wants his money's worth, just likehis father. 'Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair.At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer itwhile Harry and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, avideo camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new computer games, anda VCR. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petuniacame back from the telephone looking both angry and worried."Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can'ttake him." She jerked her head in Harry's direction.Dudley's mouth fell open in horror, but Harry's heart gave a leap. Everyyear on Dudley's birthday, his parents took him and a friend out for theday, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. Everyyear, Harry was left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived twostreets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbageand Mrs. Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she'd everowned."Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he'dplanned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg hadbroken her leg, but it wasn't easy when he reminded himself it would bea whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, andTufty again."We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested."Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy."The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn'tthere -- or rather, as though he was something very nasty that couldn'tunderstand them, like a slug."What about what's-her-name, your friend -- Yvonne?""On vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia."You could just leave me here," Harry put in hopefully (he'd be able towatch what he wanted on television for a change and maybe even have a goon Dudley's computer).Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon."And come back and find the house in ruins?" she snarled."I won't blow up the house," said Harry, but they weren't listening."I suppose we could take him to the zoo," said Aunt Petunia slowly, "...and leave him in the car....""That car's new, he's not sitting in it alone...."Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn't really crying -- it hadbeen years since he'd really cried -- but he knew that if he screwed uphis face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted."Dinky Duddydums, don't cry, Mummy won't let him spoil your specialday!" she cried, flinging her arms around him."I... don't... want... him... t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between huge,pretend sobs. "He always sp- spoils everything!" He shot Harry a nastygrin through the gap in his mother's arms.Just then, the doorbell rang -- "Oh, good Lord, they're here!" said AuntPetunia frantically -- and a moment later, Dudley's best friend, PiersPolkiss, walked in with his mother. Piers was a scrawny boy with a facelike a rat. He was usually the one who held people's arms behind theirbacks while Dudley hit them. Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once.Half an hour later, Harry, who couldn't believe his luck, was sitting inthe back of the Dursleys' car with Piers and Dudley, on the way to thezoo for the first time in his life. His aunt and uncle hadn't been ableto think of anything else to do with him, but before they'd left, UncleVernon had taken Harry aside."I'm warning you," he had said, putting his large purple face right up close to Harry's, "I'm warning you now, boy -- any funny business,anything at all -- and you'll be in that cupboard from now untilChristmas.""I'm not going to do anything," said Harry, "honestly..But Uncle Vernon didn't believe him. No one ever did.The problem was, strange things often happened around Harry and it wasjust no good telling the Dursleys he didn't make them happen.Once, Aunt Petunia, tired of Harry coming back from the barbers lookingas though he hadn't been at all, had taken a pair of kitchen scissorsand cut his hair so short he was almost bald except for his bangs, whichshe left "to hide that horrible scar." Dudley had laughed himself sillyat Harry, who spent a sleepless night imagining school the next day,where he was already laughed at for his baggy clothes and taped glasses.Next morning, however, he had gotten up to find his hair exactly as ithad been before Aunt Petunia had sheared it off He had been given a weekin his cupboard for this, even though he had tried to explain that hecouldn't explain how it had grown back so quickly.Another time, Aunt Petunia had been trying to force him into a revoltingold sweater of Dudley's (brown with orange puff balls) -- The harder shetried to pull it over his head, the smaller it seemed to become, untilfinally it might have fitted a hand puppet, but certainly wouldn't fitHarry. Aunt Petunia had decided it must have shrunk in the wash and, tohis great relief, Harry wasn't punished.On the other hand, he'd gotten into terrible trouble for being found onthe roof of the school kitchens. Dudley's gang had been chasing him asusual when, as much to Harry's surprise as anyone else's, there he wassitting on the chimney. The Dursleys had received a very angry letterfrom Harry's headmistress telling them Harry had been climbing schoolbuildings. But all he'd tried to do (as he shouted at Uncle Vernonthrough the locked door of his cupboard) was jump behind the big trashcans outside the kitchen doors. Harry supposed that the wind must havecaught him in mid- jump.But today, nothing was going to go wrong. It was even worth being withDudley and Piers to be spending the day somewhere that wasn't school,his cupboard, or Mrs. Figg's cabbage-smelling living room. While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. He liked tocomplain about things: people at work, Harry, the council, Harry, thebank, and Harry were just a few of his favorite subjects. This morning,it was motorcycles."... roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as amotorcycle overtook them.I had a dream about a motorcycle," said Harry, remembering suddenly. "Itwas flying."Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned rightaround in his seat and yelled at Harry, his face like a gigantic beetwith a mustache: "MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!"Dudley and Piers sniggered.I know they don't," said Harry. "It was only a dream."But he wished he hadn't said anything. If there was one thing theDursleys hated even more than his asking questions, it was his talkingabout anything acting in a way it shouldn't, no matter if it was in adream or even a cartoon -- they seemed to think he might get dangerousideas.It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with families. TheDursleys bought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice creams at theentrance and then, because the smiling lady in the van had asked Harrywhat he wanted before they could hurry him away, they bought him a cheaplemon ice pop. It wasn't bad, either, Harry thought, licking it as theywatched a gorilla scratching its head who looked remarkably like Dudley,except that it wasn't blond.Harry had the best morning he'd had in a long time. He was careful towalk a little way apart from the Dursleys so that Dudley and Piers, whowere starting to get bored with the animals by lunchtime, wouldn't fallback on their favorite hobby of hitting him. They ate in the zoorestaurant, and when Dudley had a tantrum because his knickerbockerglory didn't have enough ice cream on top, Uncle Vernon bought himanother one and Harry was allowed to finish the first.Harry felt, afterward, that he should have known it was all too good to last.After lunch they went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark inthere, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sortsof lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood andstone. Dudley and Piers wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick,man-crushing pythons. Dudley quickly found the largest snake in theplace. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernon's carand crushed it into a trash can -- but at the moment it didn't look inthe mood. In fact, it was fast asleep.Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at theglistening brown coils."Make it move," he whined at his father. Uncle Vernon tapped on theglass, but the snake didn't budge."Do it again," Dudley ordered. Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartlywith his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on."This is boring," Dudley moaned. He shuffled away.Harry moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. Hewouldn't have been surprised if it had died of boredom itself -- nocompany except stupid people drumming their fingers on the glass tryingto disturb it all day long. It was worse than having a cupboard as abedroom, where the only visitor was Aunt Petunia hammering on the doorto wake you up; at least he got to visit the rest of the house.The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raisedits head until its eyes were on a level with Harry's.It winked.Harry stared. Then he looked quickly around to see if anyone waswatching. They weren't. He looked back at the snake and winked, too.The snake jerked its head toward Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raisedits eyes to the ceiling. It gave Harry a look that said quite plainly:"I get that all the time."I know," Harry murmured through the glass, though he wasn't sure thesnake could hear him. "It must be really annoying."The snake nodded vigorously."Where do you come from, anyway?" Harry asked.The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. Harrypeered at it.Boa Constrictor, Brazil."Was it nice there?"The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Harry read on:This specimen was bred in the zoo. "Oh, I see -- so you've never been toBrazil?"As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind Harry made both ofthem jump."DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOUWON'T BELIEVEWHAT IT'S DOING!"Dudley came waddling toward them as fast as he could."Out of the way, you," he said, punching Harry in the ribs. Caught bysurprise, Harry fell hard on the concrete floor. What came next happenedso fast no one saw how it happened -- one second, Piers and Dudley wereleaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back withhowls of horror.Harry sat up and gasped; the glass front of the boa constrictor's tankhad vanished. The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slitheringout onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed andstarted running for the exits.As the snake slid swiftly past him, Harry could have sworn a low,hissing voice said, "Brazil, here I come.... Thanksss, amigo."The keeper of the reptile house was in shock."But the glass," he kept saying, "where did the glass go?" The zoo director himself made Aunt Petunia a cup of strong, sweet teawhile he apologized over and over again. Piers and Dudley could onlygibber. As far as Harry had seen, the snake hadn't done anything exceptsnap playfully at their heels as it passed, but by the time they wereall back in Uncle Vernon's car, Dudley was telling them how it hadnearly bitten off his leg, while Piers was swearing it had tried tosqueeze him to death. But worst of all, for Harry at least, was Pierscalming down enough to say, "Harry was talking to it, weren't you,Harry?"Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house beforestarting on Harry. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed tosay, "Go -- cupboard -- stay -- no meals," before he collapsed into achair, and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy.Harry lay in his dark cupboard much later, wishing he had a watch. Hedidn't know what time it was and he couldn't be sure the Dursleys wereasleep yet. Until they were, he couldn't risk sneaking to the kitchenfor some food.He'd lived with the Dursleys almost ten years, ten miserable years, aslong as he could remember, ever since he'd been a baby and his parentshad died in that car crash. He couldn't remember being in the car whenhis parents had died. Sometimes, when he strained his memory during longhours in his cupboard, he came up with a strange vision: a blindingflash of green light and a burn- ing pain on his forehead. This, hesupposed, was the crash, though he couldn't imagine where all the greenlight came from. He couldn't remember his parents at all. His aunt anduncle never spoke about them, and of course he was forbidden to askquestions. There were no photographs of them in the house.When he had been younger, Harry had dreamed and dreamed of some unknownrelation coming to take him away, but it had never happened; theDursleys were his only family. Yet sometimes he thought (or maybe hoped)that strangers in the street seemed to know him. Very strange strangersthey were, too. A tiny man in a violet top hat had bowed to him oncewhile out shopping with Aunt Petunia and Dudley. After asking Harryfuriously if he knew the man, Aunt Petunia had rushed them out of theshop without buying anything. A wild-looking old woman dressed all ingreen had waved merrily at him once on a bus. A bald man in a very longpurple coat had actually shaken his hand in the street the other day andthen walked away without a word. The weirdest thing about all thesepeople was the way they seemed to vanish the second Harry tried to get a closer look.At school, Harry had no one. Everybody knew that Dudley's gang hatedthat odd Harry Potter in his baggy old clothes and broken glasses, andnobody liked to disagree with Dudley's gang.