anded with a soft flump on 
Harry's bed, and the middle owl, which was large and gray, keeled right 
over and lay motionless. There was a large package tied to its legs. 

Harry recognized the unconscious owl at once -- his name was Errol, and 
he belonged to the Weasley family. Harry dashed to the bed, untied the 
cords around Errol's legs, took off the parcel, and then carried Errol 
to Hedwig's cage. Errol opened one bleary eye, gave a feeble hoot of 
thanks, and began to gulp some water. 

Harry turned back to the remaining owls. One of them, the large snowy 
female, was his own Hedwig. She, too, was carrying a parcel and looked 
extremely pleased with herself. She gave Harry an affectionate nip with 
her beak as he removed her burden, then flew across the room to join 
Errol. 

Harry didn't recognize the third owl, a handsome tawny one, but he knew 
at once where it had come from, because in addition to a third package, 
it was carrying a letter bearing the Hogwarts crest. When Harry relieved 
this owl of its burden, it ruffled its feathers importantly, stretched 
its wings, and took off through the window into the night. 

Harry sat down on his bed and grabbed Errol's package, ripped off the 
brown paper, and discovered a present wrapped in gold, and his first 
ever birthday card. Fingers trembling slightly, he opened the envelope. 
Two pieces of paper fell out -- a letter and a newspaper clipping. 

The clipping had clearly come out of the wizarding newspaper, the Daily 
Prophet, because the people in the black-and-white picture were moving. 
Harry picked up the clipping, smoothed it out, and read: 

MINISTRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE 

Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the 
Ministry of Magic, has won the annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon 
Draw. 

A delighted Mr. Weasley told the Daily Prophet, "We will be spending the 
gold on a summer holiday in Egypt, where our eldest son, Bill, works as 
a curse breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank." 

The Weasley family will be spending a month in Egypt, returning for the 
start of the new school year at Hogwarts, which five of the Weasley 
children currently attend. 

Harry scanned the moving photograph, and a grin spread across his face 
as he saw all nine of the Weasleys waving furiously at him, standing in 
front of a large pyramid. Plump little Mrs. Weasley; tail, balding Mr. 
Weasley; six sons; and one daughter, all (though the black-and-white 
picture didn't show it) with flaming-red hair. Right in the middle of 
the picture was Ron, tall and gangling, with his pet rat, Scabbers, on 
his shoulder and his arm around his little sister, Ginny. 

Harry couldn't think of anyone who deserved to win a large pile of gold 
more than the Weasleys, who were very nice and extremely poor. He picked 
up Ron's letter and unfolded it. 

Dear Harry, 

Happy birthday! 

Look, I' really sorry about that telephone call. I hope the Muggles 
didn't give you a hard time. I asked Dad, and he reckons I shouldn't 
have shouted. 

It's amazing here in Egypt. Bill's taken us around all the tombs and you 
wouldn't believe the curses those old Egyptian wizards put on them. Mum 
wouldn't let Ginny come in the last one. There were all these mutant 
skeletons in there, of Muggles who'd broken in and grown extra heads and 
stuff. 

I couldn't believe it when Dad won the Daily Prophet Draw. Seven hundred 
galleons! Most of it's gone on this trip, but they're going to buy me a 
new wand for next year. 

Harry remembered only too well the occasion when Ron's old wand had 
snapped. It had happened when the car the two of them had been flying to 
Hogwarts had crashed into a tree on the school grounds. 

We'll be back about a week before term starts and we'll be going up to 
London to get my wand and our new books. Any chance of meeting you 
there? 

Don't let the Muggles get you down! 

Try and come to London, 

Ron 

P.S. Percy's Head Boy. He got the letter last week. 
Harry glanced back at the photograph. Percy, who was in his seventh and 
final year at Hogwarts, was looking particularly smug. He had pinned his 
Head Boy badge to the fez perched jauntily on top of his neat hair, his 
horn-rimmed glasses flashing in the Egyptian sun. 

Harry now turned to his present and unwrapped it. Inside was what looked 
like a miniature glass spinning top. There was another note from Ron 
beneath it. 

Harry -- this is a Pocket Sneakoscope. If there's someone untrustworthy 
around, it's supposed to light up and spin. Bill says it's rubbish sold 
for wizard tourists and isn't reliable, because it kept lighting up at 
dinner last night. But he didn't realize Fred and George had put beetles 
in his soup. 

Bye -


Ron 

Harry put the Pocket Sneakoscope on his bedside table, where it stood 
quite still, balanced on its point, reflecting the luminous hands of his 
clock. He looked at it happily for a few seconds, then picked up the 
parcel Hedwig had brought. 

Inside this, too, there was a wrapped present, a card, and a letter, 
this time from Hermione. 

Dear Harry, 

Ron wrote to me and told me about his phone call to your Uncle Vernon. I 
do hope you're all right. 

I'm on holiday in France at the moment and I didn't know how I was going 
to send this to you -- what if they'd opened it at customs? -- but then 
Hedwig turned up! I think she wanted to make sure you got something for 
your birthday for a change. I bought your present by owl-order; there 
was an advertisement in the Daily Prophet (I've been getting it 
delivered; it's so good to keep up with what's going on in the wizarding 
world), Did you see that picture of Ron and his family a week ago? I bet 
he's learning loads. I'm really jealous -- the ancient Egyptian wizards 
were fascinating. 

There's some interesting local history of witchcraft here, too. I've 
rewritten my whole History of Magic essay to include some of the things 
I've found out, I hope it's not too long -- it's two rolls of parchment 
more than Professor Binns asked for. 

Ron says he's going to be in London in the last week of the holidays. 
Can you make it? Will your aunt and uncle let you come? I really hope 
you can. If not, I'll see you on the Hogwarts Express on September 
first! 

Love from Hermione 

P.S. Ron says Percy's Head Boy. I'll bet Percy's really pleased Ron 
doesn't seem too happy about it 
Harry laughed as he put Herrmone's letter aside and picked up her 
present. It was very heavy. Knowing Hermione, he was sure it would be a 
large book full of very difficult spells -- but it wasn't. His heart 
gave a huge bound as he ripped back the paper and saw a sleek black 
leather case, with silver words stamped across it, reading Broomstick 
Servicing Kit. 

"Wow, Hermione!" Harry whispered, unzipping the case to look inside. 

There was a large jar of Fleetwood's High-Finish Handle Polish, a pair 
of gleaming silver Tall-Twig Clippers, a tiny brass compass to clip on 
your broom for long journeys, and a Handbook of Do-It-Yourself 
Broomcare. 

Apart from his friends, the thing that Harry missed most about Hogwarts 
was Quidditch, the most popular sport in the magical world -- highly 
dangerous, very exciting, and played on broomsticks. Harry happened to 
be a very good Quidditch player; he had been the youngest person in a 
century to be picked for one of the Hogwarts House teams. One of Harry's 
most prized possessions was his Nimbus Two Thousand racing broom. 

Harry put the leather case aside and picked up his last parcel. He 
recognized the untidy scrawl on the brown paper at once: this was from 
Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper. He tore off the top layer of paper and 
glimpsed something green and leathery, but before he could unwrap it 
properly, the parcel gave a strange quiver, and whatever was inside it 
snapped loudly -- as though it had jaws. 

Harry froze. He knew that Hagrid would never send him anything dangerous 
on purpose, but then, Hagrid didn't have a normal person's view of what 
was dangerous. Hagrid had been known to befriend giant spiders, buy 
vicious, three-headed dogs from men in pubs, and sneak illegal dragon 
eggs into his cabin. 

Harry poked the parcel nervously. It snapped loudly again. Harry reached 
for the lamp on his bedside table, gripped it firmly in one hand, and 
raised it over his head, ready to strike. Then he seized the rest of the 
wrapping paper in his other hand and pulled. 

And out fell -- a book. Harry just had time to register its handsome 
green cover, emblazoned with the golden title The Monster Book of 
Monsters, before it flipped onto its edge and scuttled sideways along 
the bed like some weird crab. 

"Uh-oh," Harry muttered. 

The book toppled off the bed with a loud clunk and shuffled rapidly 
across the room. Harry followed it stealthily. The book was hiding in 
the dark space under his desk. Praying that the Dursleys were still fast 
asleep, Harry got down on his hands and knees and reached toward it. 

"Ouch!" 

The book snapped shut on his hand and then flapped past him, still 
scuttling on its covers. Harry scrambled around, threw himself forward, 
and managed to flatten it. Uncle Vernon gave a loud, sleepy grunt in the 
room next door. 
Hedwig and Errol watched interestedly as Harry clamped the struggling 
book tightly in his arms, hurried to his chest of drawers, and pulled 
out a belt, which he buckled tightly around it. The Monster Book 
shuddered angrily, but could no longer flap and snap, so Harry threw it 
down on the bed and reached for Hagrid's card. 

Dear Harry, 

Happy Birthday! 

Think you might find this useful for next year. Won't say no more here. 
Tell you when I see you. Hope the Muggles are treating you right. 

All the best, 

