The snowy owl clicked her beak

The snowy owl clicked her beak and nibbled his ear affectionately as Harry stroked her feathers.

‘She's been in a right state,’ said Ron. ‘Pecked us half to death when she brought your last letters, look at this—’

He showed Harry the index finger of his right hand, which sported a half-healed but clearly deep cut.

‘Oh, yeah,’ Harry said. ‘Sorry about that, but I wanted answers, you know....’

‘We wanted to give them to you, mate,’ said Ron. ‘Hermione was going spare, she kept saying you'd do something stupid if you were stuck all on your own without news, but Dumbledore made us—’

‘—swear not to tell me,’ said Harry. ‘Yeah, Hermione's already said.’

The warm glow that had flared inside him at the sight of his two best friends was extinguished as something icy flooded the pit of his stomach. All of a sudden—after yearning to see them for a solid month—he felt he would rather Ron and Hermione left him alone.

There was a strained silence in which Harry stroked Hedwig automatically, not looking at either of the others.

‘He seemed to think it was best,’ said Hermione rather breathlessly. ‘Dumbledore, I mean.’

‘Right,’ said Harry. He noticed that her hands, too, bore the marks of Hedwig's beak and found that he was not at all sorry.

‘I think he thought you were safest with the Muggles—’ Ron began.

‘Yeah?’ said Harry, raising his eyebrows. ‘Have either of you been attacked by dementors this summer?’

‘Well, no—but that's why he's had people from the Order of the Phoenix tailing you all the time—’

Harry felt a great jolt in his guts as though he had just missed a step going downstairs. So everyone had known he was being followed, except him.

‘Didn't work that well, though, did it?’ said Harry, doing his utmost to keep his voice even. ‘Had to look after myself after all, didn't I?’

‘He was so angry,’ said Hermione, in an almost awestruck voice. ‘Dumbledore. We saw him. When he found out Mundungus had left before his shift had ended. He was scary.’

‘Well, I'm glad he left,’ Harry said coldly. ‘If he hadn't, I wouldn't have done magic and Dumbledore would probably have left me at Privet Drive all summer.’

‘Aren't you ... aren't you worried about the Ministry of Magic hearing?’ said Hermione quietly.

‘No,’ Harry lied defiantly. He walked away from them, looking around, with Hedwig nestled contentedly on his shoulder, but this room was not likely to raise his spirits. It was dank and dark. A blank stretch of canvas in an ornate picture frame was all that relieved the bareness of the peeling walls, and as Harry passed it he thought he heard someone who was lurking out of sight snigger.

‘So why's Dumbledore been so keen to keep me in the dark?’ Harry asked, still trying hard to keep his voice casual. ‘Did you—er—bother to ask him at all?’

He glanced up just in time to see them exchanging a look that told him he was behaving just as they had feared he would. It did nothing to improve his temper.