Before Aunt Marge could finish speaking, her body suddenly swelled up.
The thick, dark green coat was the first to rip under its own weight; the seams burst open at the shoulder, and the buttons flew off like shrapnel.
One of the bullets hit Dudley right on the forehead. Dudley yelled "Ouch!" and jumped up from his chair, clutching his forehead.
Aunt Marge's face turned bright red. Her already round face looked as if someone had blew air into it, and her cheeks bulged out as if two apples were stuffed inside.
Her body rose in a round, plump motion, her toes leaving the ground, her skirt billowing outwards like an open umbrella.
The old travel bag was still hanging on her wrist, its contents tumbling out with a clatter, and a comb hit Vernon's instep.
" Vernon! Vernon!" Aunt Petunia screamed, "She's floating! She's floating!"
When Vernon sprang up from his chair, he knocked over the stool behind him, and lunged to grab Aunt Marge's ankle.
His fingers hooked onto the heel of her shoe, but the shoe slipped right out of his hand, and he stumbled forward two steps, nearly falling headfirst into the fireplace.
"Grab her! Don't let her hit the ceiling!" Vernon roared, standing on tiptoe to reach up.
Aunt Petunia rushed over too, jumping up to grab Aunt Marge's wrist, but Aunt Marge had already risen to the height of the chandelier.
The brass chandelier shook violently from the impact of her round body, causing the candle inside the lampshade to tip over, and the scalding wax dripped onto Dudley's game console, burning a white mark onto the brand-new box.
Dudley looked at the gift he had just opened, now burned, and his mouth twitched as if he was about to cry, but what happened next made him swallow the cry back.
Ripper, the bulldog Aunt Marge brought, darted out from the corner of the living room.
It had been dozing next to Aunt Marge's travel bag, but was now enraged by its owner's scream and the growing shadow overhead.
It bared its teeth, letting out a series of low growls, and then lunged at the nearest person.
Vernon was standing on tiptoe trying to reach Aunt Marge's leg, completely unaware of what was happening at his feet.
Ripper bit down on his calf, his sharp teeth digging into his trouser leg, causing Vernon to yell out in pain.
"Get down! Get down!" Vernon shouted as he kicked his legs, trying to shake Ripper off.
He kicked three or four times, and one shoe flew off, but the Ripper gripped it tightly.
Finally Vernon kicked with all his might, and Ripper was finally thrown off, the whole dog flying out like a fluffy cannonball.
The shell hit the floor near Dudley's feet, bounced, and landed right next to Dudley's new sneakers.
Ripper looked up, a piece of cloth still hanging from the corner of his mouth from Vernon's trousers.
It shook its head and looked up, just in time to see Dudley, Dudley was also looking at it with a face full of terror.
Dudley's face turned deathly pale in an instant.
"Mom--" He only managed to utter half a word before Ripper jumped up.
Dudley took off running, his slippers slipping on the waxed floor, and he crashed into the sideboard next to the dining table like a bowling ball.
The dishes shattered and broke all over the floor, and the soup and pudding mixed together and spilled all over the place.
Ripper chased after it relentlessly, its claws making a crackling sound as it stepped on the broken porcelain shards.
Dudley ran around the dining table, then around the sofa, repeatedly shouting "Help! Help! Help!" His voice grew increasingly shrill and thin, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.
Aunt Petunia cried and tried to stop the dog, but Ripper ignored her completely. Its entire attention was fixed on Dudley's terrified face, and its four short legs were moving rapidly across the floor.
The entire restaurant felt like a madhouse at that moment.
Aunt Marge, sitting above the dining table, was still swollen; her belly was pushing upwards like a hot air balloon being inflated, and her skirt had already flown past the height of the chandelier.
Her feet, clad in thick gray socks, dangled in mid-air, kicking wildly as she uttered a string of incoherent curses.
Her face was so big it was unrecognizable; her two small eyes were squeezed into two thin slits, and her whole face looked like a giant red mushroom about to burst open.
Vernon limped over, trying to grab her again, but just as he reached directly beneath Aunt Marge, a drop of wax fell from the ceiling and landed right on his forehead.
The heat made him jump up, his head slamming solidly into the sole of Aunt Marge's shoe, pushing her up even further.
"My God!" Aunt Petunia plopped down on the floor, her makeup ruined by tears, her hands gripping the tablecloth tightly. "What happened?!"
Harry stood at the edge of the messy restaurant, looking at the scene before him.
His stomach churned, as if a snake were writhing inside.
He knew perfectly well who had done it; his fingers were still trembling and his ears were ringing, but he knew exactly how serious the trouble he had gotten himself into.
He, Harry Potter, was the one who started it all.
He had heard Dumbledore say that underage wizards who used magic outside of school would be expelled.
He had received a warning letter from the Ministry of Magic last year. But this time was different; this time, it was a living, breathing person who had been praised to the skies.
But he didn't have time to think about those things right now.
He turned around and ran upstairs.
The wooden stairs thumped under his feet as he scrambled up them, two steps at a time.
The door to my new room on the second floor opened automatically, and my suitcase automatically opened and lay on the floor.
Clothes flew out of the closet, neatly folded and stacked in the inner compartment of the suitcase, while the textbooks on the desk were stacked up and stuffed into the side pocket.
Dudley's old coat flew off the back of the chair, shook twice in the air, and then obediently settled at the bottom of the box.
The whole process took less than a few seconds. Harry grabbed the handle of the suitcase with one hand, lifted Hedwig's cage with the other, and rushed downstairs.
As he passed by the restaurant entrance, he caught a glimpse of the final scene through the open door.
Aunt Marge has swelled up to the point where she's almost touching the ceiling.
Her body filled the space between the ceiling and the floor completely, making her look like a balloon blown to its limit.
Her fingers and toes swelled up into sausage shapes, and her face was unrecognizable, just a swollen, purple sphere with two thin slits and a mouth that was desperately opening and closing.
Aunt Petunia was still sitting on the floor crying, while Vernon stood beside her, looking up at his sister floating on the ceiling with an expression Harry had never seen before.
Dudley huddled behind the sofa, while Ripper scratched at the sofa cushion with his claws, Dudley out a howl with each scratch.
Without hesitation, Harry rushed to the front door and kicked open the heavy oak door.
The door slammed against the wall with a loud bang.
He carried his suitcase and owl cage and plunged into the thick darkness outside.
The night wind rushed towards him, carrying a sultry, damp feeling that filled his lungs.
Harry crossed the small lawn in the front yard, his shoes leaving a trail of dark footprints in the wet grass.
Vernon's roar came from behind, muffled through the wall, sounding like he was shouting " Potter " or cursing something else.