CHAPTER SEVENTEEN !

THE WORST BIRTHDAY
( the chamber of secrets )

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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 neice and nephew Raven and Harry's room.

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

  Raven and Harry tried, yet again, to explain.

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

  "Do I look stupid?" snarled Uncle Vernon, a bit of fried egg dangling from his bushy mustache. "I know what'll happen if that owl's let out." 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.

  "I want more bacon."

  "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..."

Raven rolled her eyes. At least Dudley got 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 and Raven.

  "Pass the frying pan."

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

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

  "He meant 'please'!" said Raven quickly. "He didn't mean—"

  "WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU TWO," thundered his uncle, spraying spit over the table, "ABOUT SAYING THE 'M' WORD IN OUR HOUSE?"

  "But—"

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

  "He just—"

  "I WARNED YOU BOTH! I WILL NOT TOLERATE MENTION OF YOUR ABNORMALITY UNDER THIS ROOF!"

  Harry and Raven stared from their purple faced uncle to their pale aunt, who was trying to heave Dudley to his feet.

  "All right," said Harry, "all right..."

  Uncle Vernon sat back down, breathing like a winded rhinoceros and watching them closely out of the corners of his small, sharp eyes.

  Ever since Harry and Raven had come home for the summer holidays, Uncle Vernon had been treating them like two bombs that might go off at any moment, because Harry and Raven Potter weren't a normal girl and boy. As a matter of fact, they were as not normal as it is possible to be.

  Harry and Raven Potter were wizards—two wizards fresh from their first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And if the Dursleys were unhappy to have them back for the holidays, it was nothing to how Harry and Raven felt.

  They missed Hogwarts so much it was like having a constant stomachache. Raven missed the castle, with its secret passageways and ghosts, her classes (though perhaps not Snape, the Potions master), the mail arriving by owl, eating banquets in the Great Hall, sleeping in her 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 of Raven and Harry's spellbooks, their wands, robes, cauldron, and their top of the line Nimbus Two Thousand broomsticks had been locked in a cupboard under the stairs by Uncle Vernon the instant Raven and Harry had come home.

What did the Dursleys care if they lost their place on the House Quidditch team because neither of them had practiced all summer? What was it to the Dursleys if Harry or Raven went back to school without any of their homework done? The Dursleys were what wizards called Muggles (not a drop of magical blood in their veins), and as far as they were concerned, having two wizards in the family was a matter of deepest shame. Uncle Vernon had even padlocked Raven and Harry's owl, Hedwig, inside her cage, to stop her from carrying messages to anyone in the wizarding world.

  The twin's looked nothing like the rest of the family. 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. Raven was also small and skinny with green eyes and the same scar, the only difference was that she didn't wear glasses and she had long red hair.

  It was their scars that made Harry and Raven so particularly unusual, even for a wizard. The scars were the only hint of Raven and Harry's very mysterious past, of the reason they had been left on the Dursleys' doorstep eleven years before.

  At the age of one year old, both Harry and Raven 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. Their parents had died in Voldemort's attack, but the twin's had escaped with their lightning scars, and somehow—nobody understood why Voldemort's powers had been destroyed the instant he had failed to kill them.

  So Harry and Raven had been brought up by their dead mother's sister and her husband. They had spent ten years with the Dursleys, never understanding why either of them kept making odd things happen without meaning to, believing the Dursleys' story that Harry and Raven had got their scars in the car crash that had killed their parents.

  And then, exactly a year ago, Hogwarts had written to Raven and Harry, and the whole story had come out. The twins had taken up their place at wizard school, where them and their scars were famous... but now the school year was over, and they were back with the Dursleys for the summer, back to being treated like dogs that had rolled in something smelly.

  The Dursleys hadn't even remembered that today happened to be Raven and Harry's twelfth birthday. Of course, Raven's hopes hadn't been high; they'd never given her or Harry 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."

  The twins looked up, hardly daring to believe it.

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

  Raven went back to her toast and rolled her eyes. Of course, she thought bitterly, Uncle Vernon was talking about the stupid dinner party. He'd been talking 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).

  "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."

  "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.

  "Excellent, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon. Then he rounded on Raven and Harry. "And you two?"

  "We'll be in our bedroom, making no noise and pretending we're not there," said Harry tonelessly.

  "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.

 
"And you?" said Uncle Vernon viciously to Raven and Harry.

  "We'll be in our room, making no noise and pretending we're not there," said Raven dully.

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

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

  "Perfect... Dudley?"

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

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

  "And you, girl and boy?"

  Raven fought to keep her face straight as she emerged. "We'll be in our room, making no noise and pretending we're not there," Harry said.

  "Too right, you will," said Uncle Vernon forcefully. "The Masons don't know anything about you two 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. We'll be shopping for a vacation home in Majorca this time tomorrow."

  Harry nor Raven couldn't feel too excited about this. Raven didn't think the Dursleys would like them any better in Majorca than they did on Privet Drive.

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

  Harry and Raven left through the back door. It was a brilliant, sunny day. They crossed the lawn, slumped down on the garden bench, and Raven sang under her breath:

  "Happy birthday to us... happy birthday to us..."

  No cards, no presents, and they'd be spending the evening pretending not to exist. Raven gazed miserably into the hedge. She had never felt so lonely. She knew she had Harry at least. More than anything else at Hogwarts, more even than playing Quidditch, The twins missed their best friends, Ron Weasley, Apollo Lupin, and Hermione Granger. They, however, didn't seem to be missing them at all. None of them had written to them all summer, even though Ron had said he was going to ask Raven and Harry to come and stay. Raven was even more bummed that Hermione hadn't at least sent her anything. She kept twiddling with the necklace Hermione gave her last year around her neck.

  Countless times, the twins  had been on the point of unlocking Hedwig's cage by magic and sending her to Apollo, 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 and Raven hadn't told the Dursleys this; they knew it was only their terror that either of them might turn them all into dung beetles that stopped them from locking them in the cupboard under the stairs with their wands and broomsticks.

For the first couple of weeks back, Harry and Raven had enjoyed muttering nonsense words under their breaths and watching Dudley tearing out of the room as fast as his fat legs would carry him. But the long silence from Apollo, Ron, and Hermione had made them feel so cut off from the magical world that even taunting Dudley had lost its appeal—and now they all had forgotten the twins birthday.

  What wouldn't they give now for a message from Hogwarts? From any witch or wizard? Raven would almost be glad of a sight of her archenemy, Draco Malfoy, just to be sure it hadn't all been a dream...

  Not that their whole year at Hogwarts had been fun. At the very end of last term, Harry and Raven 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.

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

  Harry suddenly sat bolt upright on the garden bench. Raven had her head on his lap so when he sat up she fell of the bench and onto the ground.

"Sorry." he muttered.

"It's okay." Raven said and looked at what Harry seemed to be looking at.

He had been staring absent mindedly into the hedge—and the hedge was staring back. Two enormous green eyes had appeared among the leaves.

  Harry and Raven jumped just as a jeering voice floated across the lawn.

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

  The huge eyes blinked and vanished.

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

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

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

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

  "Better not let your mum hear you talking about our school," said Raven coolly.

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

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

  "We're 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.

  "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—"

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

  Raven and Harry paid dearly for their moment of fun. As neither Dudley nor the hedge was in any way hurt, Aunt Petunia knew they hadn't really done magic, but Raven still had to duck as she aimed a heavy blow at her head with the soapy frying pan. Then she gave them work to do, with the promise neither of them would eat again until they finished.

  While Dudley lolled around watching and eating ice cream, Harry and Raven 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 Ravens neck. They knew they shouldn't have risen to Dudley's bait, but Dudley had said the very thing Raven had been thinking herself... maybe she didn't have any friends at Hogwarts...

  Wish they could see famous Harry and Raven Potter now, she thought savagely as she spread manure on the flower beds, her back aching, sweat running down her face.

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

  "Get in here! And walk on the newspaper!"

  Harry and Raven 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.

  "Eat quickly! The Masons will be here soon!" snapped Aunt Petunia, pointing to the four slices of bread and a lump of cheese on the kitchen table. She was already wearing a salmon pink cocktail dress. Raven didn't eat the food but she grabbed it to feed to Hedwig knowing she needed food.

  Harry and Raven washed their hands and Harry bolted down the pitiful supper. The moment he had finished, Aunt Petunia whisked away the plates. "Upstairs! Hurry!"

  As they passed the door to the living room, they caught a glimpse of Uncle Vernon and Dudley in bow ties and dinner jackets. They 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, you both—one sound—"

  Harry and Raven crossed to their bedroom on tiptoe slipped inside, closed the door, and turned to collapse on their bed. The trouble was, there was already someone sitting on it.