“Jiggery pokery!” said Harry in a fierce voice. “Hocus pocus — squiggly wiggly —”“MUUUUUUM!” howled Dudley, “He’s doing you know what!”

“Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel — Harry often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig.”

“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?”

“Dudley had been accepted at Uncle Vernon's old private school, Smeltings...Harry, on the other hand, was going to Stonewall High, the local public high school. Dudley thought this was very funny. "They stuff people's heads down the toilet the first day at Stonewall," he told Harry. "Want to come upstairs and practice?" "No, thanks," said Harry. "The poor toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it - it might be sick." Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he'd said.”

“But...surely you know where your nephew is going?' she asked, looking bewildered.'Certainly we know,' said Vernon Dursley. 'He's off with some of your lot, isn't he? Right, Dudley, let's get in the car, you heard the man, we're in a hurry.'Again, Vernon Dursley marched as far as the front door, but Dudley did not follow.'Off with some of our lot?'Hestia looked outraged. Harry had met the attitude before: witches and wizards seemed stunned that his closest living family took so little interest in the famous Harry Potter.'It's fine,' Harry assured her. 'It doesn't matter, honestly.''Doesn't matter?' repeated Hestia, her voice rising ominously.'Don't these people realise what you've been through? What danger you are in? The unique position you hold in the hearts of the anti-Voldemort movement?'Er - no, they don't,' said Harry. 'They think I'm a waste of space, actually, but I'm used to -''I don't think you're a waste of space.'If Harry had not seen Dudley's lips move, he might not have believed it.”

“No, thanks," said Harry. "The toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it— it might be sick." Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he'd said.”

“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.”