“How long have you been ‘Big D’ then?” said Harry.“Shut it,” snarled Dudley, turning away again.“Cool name,” said Harry, grinning and falling into step beside his cousin. “But you’ll always be Ickle Diddykins to me.”“I said, SHUT IT!” said Dudley, whose ham-like hands had curled into fists.“Don’t the boys know that’s what your mum calls you?”“Shut your face.”“You don’t tell her to shut her face. What about ‘popkin’ and ‘Dinky Diddydums,’ can I use them then?”

“I had a dream about a motorcycle," said Harry, remembering suddenly. "It was flying."Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Harry, his face like a gigantic beet with a mustache: "MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!"Dudley and Piers sniggered."I know they don't," said Harry. "It was only a dream.”

“Well, that was a bit stupid of you,” said Ginny angrily, “seeing as you don’t know anyone but me who’s been possessed by You-Know-Who, and I can tell you how it feels.”Harry remained quite still as the impact of these words hit him. Then he turned on the spot to face her.“I forgot,” he said.“Lucky you,” said Ginny coolly.“I’m sorry,” Harry said, and he meant it.”

“I think they ought to know. You do them a disservice by not confiding something this important to them.”“I didn’t want —”“— to worry or frighten them?” said Dumbledore, surveying Harry over the top of his half-moon spectacles. “Or perhaps, to confess that you yourself are worried and frightened? You need your friends, Harry. As you so rightly said, Sirius would not have wanted you to shut yourself away.”

“Hey, it’s-!”“Who? Oh. Oh.”“Shut up.”“I haven’t said anything yet!”“Don’t.”“How can I shut up if I haven’t said anything?”“I know you. You’ve got a monologue coming up.”

“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.”