Uncle Vernon said nothing but continued to pace up and down. Outside the sun

hung low over the privet hedges. The next door neighbor's lawn mower stalled again.

"I thought there was a Ministry of Magic?" asked Vernon Dursley abruptly.

"There is," said Harry, surprised.

"Well, then, why can't they protect us? It seems to me that, as innocent victims, guilty of

Nothing more than harboring a marked man, we ought to qualify for government

protection!"

Harry laughed; he could not help himself. It was so very typical of his uncle to put

His hopes in the establishment, even within this world that he despised and mistrusted.

"You heard what Mr. Weasley and Kingsley said," Harry replied.

"We think the Ministry has been infiltrated."

Uncle Vernon strode back to the fireplace and back breathing so strongly that his

Great black mustache rippled his face still purple with concentration.

"All right," he said. Stopping in front of Harry get again. "All right, let's say for

the sake of argument we accept this protection. I still don't see why we can't have that

Kingsley bloke."

Harry managed not to roll his eyes, but with difficulty. This question had also

Been addressed half a dozen times.

"As I've told you," he said through gritted teeth, "Kingsley is protecting the Mug

– I mean, your Prime Minister."

"Exactly – he's the best!" said Uncle Vernon, pointing at the blank television

Screen. The Dursleys had spotted Kingsley on the news, walking along the Muggle Prime

Minister as he visited a hospital. This, and the fact that Kingsley had mastered the knack

Of dressing like a Muggle, not to mention a certain reassuring something in his slow, deep

Voice, had caused the Dursleys to take to Kingsley in a way that they had certainly not

Done with any other wizard, although it was true that they had never seen him with

Earring in.

"Well, he's taken,” said Harry. "But Hestia Jones and Dedalus Diggle are more

than up to the job –"

"If we'd even seen CVs…" began Uncle Vernon, but Harry lost patience. Getting

To his feet, he advanced on his uncle, not pointing at the TV set himself.

"These accidents aren't accidents – the crashed and explosions and derailments

And whatever else has happened since we last watched the news. People are disappearing

and dying and he's behind it – Voldemort. I've told you this over and over again, he kills

Muggles for fun. Even the fogs – they're caused by dementors, and if you can't remember

what they are, ask your son!"

Dudley's hands jerked upward to tower his mouth. With his parents' and Harry's

eyes upon him, he slowly lowered them again and asked, "There are… more of them?"

"More?" laughed Harry. "More than the two that attacked us, you mean? Of course there

are hundreds, maybe thousands by this time, seeing as they feed off fear and despair—"

"All right, all right blustered," blustered Vernon Dursley. "You've made your

point –"

"I hope so," said Harry, "because once I'm seventeen, all of them – Death Eaters,

elementors, maybe even Inferi – which means dead bodies enchanted by a Dark wizard –

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 934