“He [Uncle Vernon] held up the envelope in which Mrs. Weasley’s letter had come, and Harry had to fight down a laugh. Every bit of it was covered in stamps except for a square inch on the front, into which Mrs. Weasley had squeezed the Dursleys’ address in minute writing.“She did put enough stamps on, then,” said Harry, trying to sound as though Mrs. Weasley’s was a mistake anyone could make.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Sirius, Dumbledore said no!”A bearlike black dog had appeared at Harry’s side as Harry clambered over the various trunks cluttering the hall to get to Mrs. Weasley.“Oh honestly,” said Mrs. Weasley despairingly. “Well, on your own head be it!”The great black dog gave a joyful bark and gamboled around them, snapping at pigeons, and chasing its own tail. Harry couldn’t help laughing. Sirius had been trapped inside for a very long time.”

“Uncle Vernon rounded on Harry. “And you?”“I’ll be in my bedroom, making no noise and pretending I’m not there,” said Harry tonelessly.“Exactly,” said Uncle Vernon nastily. 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.“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.“Precisely. Now, we should aim to get in a few good compliments at dinner.“How about — ‘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 Harry. Aunt Petunia burst into tears while Harry ducked under the table so they wouldn’t see him laughing.“And you, boy?”Harry fought to keep his face straight as he emerged. “I’ll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I’m not there,” he said.”

“I’m never wearing them," Ron was saying stubbornly. "Never.""Fine," snapped Mrs. Weasley. "Go naked. And, Harry, make sure you get a picture of him. Goodness knows I could do with a laugh.”

“Beds empty! No note! Car gone — could have crashed — out of my mind with worry — did you care? — never, as long as I’ve lived — you wait until your father gets home, we never had trouble like this from Bill or Charlie or Percy —""Perfect Percy,” muttered Fred.“YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF PERCY’S BOOK!” yelled Mrs. Weasley, prodding a finger in Fred’s chest. “You could have died, you could have been seen, you could have lost your father his job —”It seemed to go on for hours. Mrs. Weasley had shouted herself hoarse before she turned on Harry, who backed away.“I’m very pleased to see you, Harry, dear,” she said.”

“A good many young writers make the mistake of enclosing a stamped, self-addressed envelope, big enough for the manuscript to come back in. This is too much of a temptation to the editor.”