‘Not as stupid as you look, are you, Dud?

But I s'pose, if you were, you wouldn't be able to walk and talk at the same time....’

Harry pulled out his wand. He saw Dudley look sideways at it.

‘You're not allowed,’ Dudley said at once. ‘I know you're not. You'd get expelled from that freak school you go to.’

‘How d'you know they haven't changed the rules, Big D?’

‘They haven't,’ said Dudley, though he didn't sound completely convinced.

Harry laughed softly.

‘You haven't got the guts to take me on without that thing, have you?’ Dudley snarled.

‘Whereas you just need four mates behind you before you can beat up a ten year old. You know that boxing title you keep banging on about? How old was your opponent? Seven? Eight?’

‘He was sixteen, for your information,’ snarled Dudley, ‘and he was out cold for twenty minutes after I'd finished with him and he was twice as heavy as you. You just wait till I tell Dad you had that thing out—’

‘Running to Daddy now, are you? Is his ickle boxing champ frightened of nasty Harry's wand?’

‘Not this brave at night, are you?’ sneered Dudley.

‘This is night, Diddykins. That's what we call it when it goes all dark like this.’

‘I mean when you're in bed!’ Dudley snarled.

He had stopped walking. Harry stopped too, staring at his cousin.

From the little he could see of Dudley's large face, he was wearing a strangely triumphant look.

‘What d'you mean, I'm not brave when I'm in bed?’ said Harry, Completely nonplussed. ‘What—am I supposed to be frightened of, pillows or something?’

‘I heard you last night,’ said Dudley breathlessly. ‘Talking in your sleep. Moaning.’

‘What d'you mean?’ Harry said again, but there was a cold, plunging sensation in his stomach. He had revisited the graveyard last night in his dreams.

Dudley gave a harsh bark of laughter, then adopted a high-pitched whimpering voice.

‘"Don't kill Cedric! Don't kill Cedric!” Who's Cedric—your boyfriend?’

‘I—you're lying,’ said Harry automatically. But his mouth had gone dry. He knew Dudley wasn't lying—how else would he know about Cedric?

‘"Dad! Help me, Dad! He's going to kill me, Dad! Boo hoo!” ’

‘Shut up,’ said Harry quietly. ‘Shut up, Dudley, I'm warning you!’

‘"Come and help me, Dad! Mum, come and help me! He's killed Cedric! Dad, help me! He's going to—” Don't you point that thing at me!’

Dudley backed into the alley wall. Harry was pointing the wand directly at Dudley's heart. Harry could feel fourteen years’ hatred of Dudley pounding in his veins—what wouldn't he give to strike now, to jinx Dudley so thoroughly he'd have to crawl home like an insect, struck dumb, sprouting feelers—

‘Don't ever talk about that again,’ Harry snarled. ‘D'you understand me?’

‘Point that thing somewhere else!’

‘I said, do you understand me?’

‘Point it somewhere else!’

‘DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?’

‘GET THAT THING AWAY FROM—’