Chapter 2 A Peck Of Owls

‘What?’ said Harry blankly.

‘He left!’ said Mrs. Figg, wringing her hands. ‘Left to see someone about a batch of cauldrons that fell off the back of a broom! I told him I'd flay him alive if he went, and now look! Dementors! It's just lucky I put Mr. Tibbles on the case! But we haven't got time to stand around! Hurry, now, we've got to get you back! Oh, the trouble this is going to cause! I will kill him!’

‘But—’

The revelation that his batty old cat-obsessed neighbour knew what dementors were was almost as big a shock to Harry as meeting two of them down the alleyway. ‘You're—you're a witch?’

‘I'm a Squib, as Mundungus knows full well, so how on earth was I supposed to help you fight off dementors? He left you completely without cover when I'd warned him—’

‘This Mundungus has been following me? Hang on—it was him! He Disapparated from the front of my house!’

‘Yes, yes, yes, but luckily I'd stationed Mr. Tibbles under a car just in case, and Mr Tibbles came and warned me, but by the time I got to your house you'd gone— and now—oh, what's Dumbledore going to say? You!’ she shrieked at Dudley, still supine on the alley floor. ‘Get your fat bottom off the ground, quick!’

‘You know Dumbledore?’ said Harry, staring at her.

‘Of course I know Dumbledore, who doesn't know Dumbledore? But come on— I'll be no help if they come back, I've never so much as Transfigured a teabag.’

She stooped down, seized one of Dudley's massive arms in her wizened hands and tugged.

‘Get up, you useless lump, get up!’

But Dudley either could not or would not move. He remained on the ground, trembling and ashen-faced, his mouth shut very tight.

‘I'll do it.’ Harry took hold of Dudley's arm and heaved. With an enormous effort he managed to hoist him to his feet. Dudley seemed to be on the point of fainting. His small eyes were rolling in their sockets and sweat was beading his face; the moment Harry let go of him he swayed dangerously.

‘Hurry up!’ said Mrs. Figg hysterically.