The Vanishing Glass
Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephews on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys’ front door; it crept into their living room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr. Dursley had seen that fateful news report about the owls. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different-colored bonnets – but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large blond boy riding his first bicycle, on a carousel at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother. The room held no sign at all that two other boys lived in the house, too.
Yet Harry and Jacob Potter were still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. Their Aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice that made the first noise of the day.
“Up! Get up! Now!”
The boys awoke with a start. Their aunt rapped on the door again.
“Up!” she screeched. They heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. Harry rolled onto his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having; Jacob sat up and started stretching, also thinking of his own dream. They had been good dreams. Harry’s had a flying motorcycle in his while Jacob’s had two people wearing strange clothes and a giant, hairy man. They had the same funny feeling that they’ve had those dreams before.
Their aunt was back outside their door.
“Are you two up yet?” she demanded.
“Nearly,” said Harry. Jacob silently glared at the door, wishing she would let them sleep in every once in a while.
“Well, get a move on. Harry, I want you to look after the bacon, and Jacob, you’ll fry the eggs. And don’t you dare let them burn, I want everything to be perfect on Duddy’s birthday.
Harry and Jacob groaned in unison.
“What did you two say?” their aunt snapped through the door.
“Nothing,” They replied at the same time.
Dudley’s birthday – how could they have forgotten? Harry slowly got out of bed while Jacob searched for some socks. He found two pairs under their bed and, after pulling a spider off of one of them, handed Harry one pair as he put on the other. They were used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where they slept.
When they were dressed they went down the hall into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley’s birthday presents. It looked as though Dudley had gotten the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and the racing bike. Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to the twins, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise – unless of course it involved punching somebody. Dudley used to love using Harry and Jacob as his personal punching bags, but ever since the day he mysteriously fell to the ground, screaming in excruciating pain, he stopped. No one knew why or what had happened, but after that, he would fall to the ground, screaming in pain whenever he tried to hit them.
Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon.
“Comb your hair!” he barked, by way of a morning greeting.
About once a week, Uncle Vernon looked over the top of his newspaper and shouted that Harry and Jacob needed haircuts. They must have had more haircuts then the rest of the boys in their class put together, but it made no difference, their hair simply grew that way – all over the place. Though, Jacob’s red hair wasn’t as unruly as Harry’s black hair.
The twins had finished with breakfast by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother. Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small, watery blue eyes, and thick blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head. Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel – Harry and Jacob often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig.
The Potter boys didn’t look like the rest of the family. They were both small and skinny for their age, Jacob being just a touch smaller than his brother. They both had knobbly knees and thin faces, but that was were the similarities ended. Harry had black hair, bright green eyes, and a thin lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. Jacob had dark red hair, hazel eyes, and a thin lightning-shaped scar over his left eye, which he kept covered with his hair. The only thing Harry liked about his appearance was his scar, while the only thing Jacob hated about his own was his scar.
Harry and Jacob put the plates of eggs and bacon on the table, which was difficult as there wasn’t much room. Dudley, meanwhile, was counting his presents. His face fell.
“Thirty-six,” he said, looking up at his mother and father. “That’s two last than last year.”
“Darling, you haven’t counted Auntie Marge’s present, see, it’s here under this big one from Mummy and Daddy.”
“All right, thirty-seven then,” said Dudley, going red in the face. Harry and Jacob, who could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began wolfing down their breakfast as fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Aunt Petunia obviously scented danger, too, because she said quickly, “And we’ll buy you another two presents while we’re out today. How’s that, popkin? Two more presents. Is that all right?”
Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work. Finally he said slowly, “So I’ll have thirty… thirty…”
“Thirty-nine, sweetums,” said Aunt Petunia.
“Oh.” Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. Jacob was surprised that the chair hadn’t collapsed under his weight yet. “All right then.”
Uncle Vernon chuckled.
“Little tyke wants his money’s worth, just like his father. ‘Atta boy, Dudley!” He ruffled Dudley’s hair.
At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while the twins and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a video camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new computer games, and a VCR. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petunia came back from the telephone looking both angry and worried.
“Bad news, Vernon,” she said. “Mrs. Figg’s broken her leg. She can’t take them.” She jerked her head in Harry and Jacob’s direction.
Dudley’s mouth fell open in horror, but Harry’s heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley’s birthday, his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. Every year, Harry and Jacob were left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there, but Jacob didn’t mind. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made them look at photographs of all the cats she’d ever owned. Jacob liked her cats and would spend most of their time there petting them. The cats seemed to like him, too, for they would come up to him whenever he and Harry walked in. Jacob also liked the fact that they were away from the Dursleys.
“Now what?” said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry and Jacob as though they’d planned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn’t easy when he reminded himself that it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tufty again. Jacob did feel sorry for Mrs. Figg and was upset that he had to wait a whole year before seeing her cats again.
“We could phone Marge,” Uncle Vernon suggested.
“Don’t be silly, Vernon, she hates the boys.”
The Dursleys often spoke about the twins like this, as though they weren’t there – or rather, as though they were something very nasty that couldn’t understand them, like slugs.
“What about what’s-her-name, your friend – Yvonne?”
“On vacation in Majorca,” snapped Aunt Petunia.
“You could just leave us here,” Harry put in hopefully (they’d be able to watch what they wanted on television for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley’s computer). Jacob gave his brother a mildly amused face, knowing that that wasn’t gonna happen.
Aunt Petunia looked as though she’d just swallowed a lemon.
“And come back and find the house in ruins?” she snarled.
“We won’t blow up the house,” said Harry, but they weren’t listening. Jacob frowned, getting more and more pissed off as they talked. Harry grabbed his arm, calming him down. The Dursleys didn’t notice as they continued talking.
“I suppose we could take them to the zoo,” said Aunt Petunia slowly, “…and leave them in the car…”
“That car’s new, they’re not sitting in it alone…”
Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn’t really crying – it had been years since he’d really cried – but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted.
“Dinky Duddydums, don’t cry, Mummy won’t let them spoil your special day!” she cried, flinging her arms around him. Jacob had to bite back a laugh from the ridiculous nickname.
“I… don’t… want… them… t-t-to come!” Dudley yelled between huge, pretend sobs. “They always sp-spoil everything!” He shot Harry and Jacob a nasty grin through the gap in his mother’s arms.
Just then, the doorbell rang – “Oh, good Lord, they’re here!” said Aunt Petunia frantically – and a moment later, Dudley’s best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother. Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held people’s arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them. Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once. It’s magic, Jacob thought sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Luckily, the only one who noticed was Harry.
Half an hour later, Harry and Jacob, who couldn’t believe their luck, were sitting in the back of the Dursleys’ car with Piers and Dudley, on the way to the zoo for the first time in their lives. Their aunt and uncle hadn’t been able to think of anything else to do with them, but before they’d left, Uncle Vernon had taken Harry and Jacob aside.
“I’m warning you,” he had said, putting his large purple face right up close to theirs, “I’m warning you now, boys – any funny business, anything at all – and you’ll both be in that cupboard from now until Christmas.”
“We’re not going to do anything,” they had said in unison, one genuinely while the other just sounded annoyed. “Honestly…”
But Uncle Vernon didn’t believe them. No one ever did.
The problem was, strange things often happened around them and it was just no good telling the Dursleys they didn’t make them happen.
Like with Dudley falling to the ground, screaming in agony. Or when Aunt Petunia, who was tired of them coming back from the barbers looking as though they hadn’t been at all, had taken a pair of scissors and tried to cut their hair herself. She had started on Jacob, but instead of his hair being cut, the scissors broke, as though his hair were made of steel. Luckily, she decided that the scissors must have been too old, so he didn’t receive any punishments.
Another time, Aunt Petunia had been trying to force Harry into a revolting old sweater of Dudley’s (brown with orange puff balls). Jacob had trouble keeping himself from laughing, imagining his brother in that disgusting excuse for clothes, fearing she might change her mind and force him to wear it instead. The harder she tried to pull it over Harry’s head, the smaller it seemed to become, until finally it might have fitted a hand puppet, but certainly wouldn’t fit Harry. Aunt Petunia had decided it must have shrunk in the wash and, to their great relief, Harry also wasn’t punished.
However, before he mysteriously started screaming in agony whenever he tried to hurt either boy, there was one time Dudley and his gang decided to chase Harry and Jacob. To their surprise, they somehow ended up sitting on the school chimney. The Dursleys had received a very angry letter from the twins’ headmistress telling them Harry and Jacob had been climbing school buildings. But all they tried to do (as they shouted at Uncle Vernon through the locked door of their cupboard) was jump behind the big trash cans outside the kitchen doors. Harry supposed that the wind must have caught them in mid-jump, but Jacob wasn’t so sure. He couldn’t help but realize that every strange thing that’s ever happened around them was when one (or both) of them had been upset, angry, or scared. There was obviously some kind of connection, but what?
But today, nothing was going to go wrong. It was even worth being with Dudley and Piers to be spending the day somewhere that wasn’t school, their cupboard, or Mrs. Figg’s cabbage-smelling living room.
While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. He liked to complain about things: people at work, the twins, the council, the twins, the bank, and the twins were just a few of his favorite subjects. This morning, it was motorcycles.
“…roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums,” he said, as a motorcycle overtook them.
“I had a dream about a motorcycle,” said Harry, remembering suddenly. “It was flying.” Jacob looked at his brother in horror, knowing what was going to happen next.
Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Harry, his face like a gigantic beet with a mustache: “MOTORCYCLES DON’T FLY!”
Dudley and Piers sniggered. Jacob glared at Uncle Vernon, though it went unnoticed by the angry man.
“I know they don’t,” said Harry. “It was only a dream.”
But he wished he hadn’t said anything. If there was one thing the Dursleys hated more than them asking questions, it was their talking about anything acting in a way it shouldn’t, no matter if it was in a dream or even a cartoon – they seemed to think that the twins might get dangerous ideas.
It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with families. The Dursleys bought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice creams at the entrance and then, because the smiling lady in the van had asked Harry and Jacob what they wanted before they could hurry them away, they bought the twins cheap lemon ice pops. They weren’t bad, either, they thought, licking their ice pops as they watched a gorilla scratching its head who looked remarkable like Dudley, except that it wasn’t blond.
Harry and Jacob had the best morning that they’d had in a long time. They were careful to walk a little way apart from the Dursleys as Dudley and Piers started to get bored of the animals by lunchtime. Harry was afraid the boys might start hitting them again even though it had been a while since they stopped, while Jacob just didn’t want to be associated with the idiots, even though he was stuck with them. They ate in the zoo restaurant, and when Dudley had a tantrum because his knickerbocker glory didn’t have enough ice cream on top, Uncle Vernon bought him another one and the twins were allowed to finish the first.
Harry and Jacob felt, afterward, that they should have known it was all too good to last.
After lunch they went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in there, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. Dudley and Piers wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick, man-crushing pythons. Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernon’s car and crushed it into a trash can – but at the moment it didn’t look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep.
Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening brown coils.
“Make it move,” he whined at his father. Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn’t budge.
“Do it again,” Dudley ordered. Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on.
“This is boring,” Dudley moaned. He shuffled away.
Harry and Jacob moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. They wouldn’t have been surprised if it had died of boredom itself – no company except stupid people drumming their fingers on the glass trying to disturb it all day long. It was worse than having a cupboard as a bedroom, where the only visitor was Aunt Petunia hammering on the door to wake you up; at least they had each other and got to visit the rest of the house.
The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until it’s eyes were almost level with the two boys’.
It winked.
Harry and Jacob stared. Then they looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. No one was. They looked back at the snake and winked, too.
The snake jerked its head toward Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It gave the twins a look that said quite plainly:
“I get that all the time.”
“I know,” Harry murmured through the glass, though he wasn’t sure the snake could hear him. “It must be really annoying.”
The snake nodded vigorously. Jacob stared as his brother hissed at the snake, even though he understood what was being said.
“Where do you come from, anyway?” Harry asked.
Jacob pointed at a little sign next to the glass at the exact same time the snake jabbed its tail towards it. Harry’s face flushed as he peered at it. How had he not noticed it?
Boa Constrictor, Brazil.
“Was it nice there?”
“Harry…” Jacob sighed, knowing his twin hadn’t bothered to read the whole thing like he had.
The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Harry read on: This specimen was bred in the zoo. “Oh, I see – so you’ve never been to Brazil?”
As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind Harry and Jacob made all three of them jump. “DUDLEY! MR.DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON’T BELIEVE WHAT IT’S DOING!”
Dudley came waddling toward them as fast as he could.
“Out of the way, you,” he said, punching Harry in the ribs. Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard on the concrete floor, Jacob kneeling right beside him to make sure he was ok. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened – one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror.
Harry and Jacob sat up and gasped; the glass front of the boa constrictor’s tank had vanished. The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits.
As the snake slid swiftly past them, Harry and Jacob could have sworn a low, hissing voice said, “Brazil, here I come… Thanksss, amigosss.”
The keeper of the reptile house was in shock.
“But the glass,” he kept saying, “where did the glass go?”
The zoo director himself made Aunt Petunia a cup of strong, sweet tea as he apologized over and over again. Piers and Dudley could only gibber. As far as the twins had seen, the snake hadn’t done anything except snap playfully at their heels as it passed, but by the time they were all back in Uncle Vernon’s car, Dudley was telling them how it had nearly bitten off his leg, while Piers was swearing it had tried to squeeze him to death. But worst of all, for the twins at least, was Piers calming down enough to say, “Harry and Jacob were talking to it, weren’t you, guys?” Excuse you, but I didn’t talk to the snake! Jacob glared at Piers, who yelped in pain, grabbing his chest.
Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting on the twins. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed to say, “Go – cupboard – stay – no meals,” before he collapsed into a chair, and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy.