George and Fred kept their promise: you could beat them to death and they wouldn't tell on Ron, but if you didn't beat Ron, they certainly would.
Several compartments on the train buzzed with laughter.
In one compartment, Percy was about to get close to Penelope when he sensed something was wrong. He had a bad feeling, though he couldn't say where it came from.
Time passed. The sun sank westward, and as the evening sky turned crimson, Harry suddenly remembered something. He pulled out a piece of parchment, scrawled his phone number on it several times, then tore it up. He gave one piece to Ron and slipped another to Seamus.
Will, Neville, Michael... almost everyone got a piece.
"If something happens to me and I don't make it back to school when term starts, remember to tell Professor Dumbledore I didn't skip classes on purpose. I just ran into trouble." Harry still remembered last summer all too well.
The House-elf named Dobby hadn't appeared again after Harry handed him over to Professor McGonagall, but Harry couldn't shake the feeling that something might happen this summer too.
As the sun slipped below the horizon, they began changing clothes and getting ready to leave the train.
It was sweltering.
Vernon Dursley wiped his brow and parked at King's Cross Station. He hadn't wanted to pick up his nephew, but he'd had no choice.
"It's too hot!" Dudley complained, even with the air-conditioning on.
"Duddykins, oh, just bear it a little longer. We'll be there soon," Petunia Dursley coaxed her son, who was as plump as a piglet. "How about an ice cream? Chocolate, with two scoops."
"I want three!"
"All right, all right. Three scoops."
Vernon hauled his bulky body out of the driver's seat. He had barely stepped