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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 moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. He 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 he got to visit the rest of the house.

The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with Harry’s.

It winked.

Harry stared. Then he looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren’t. He looked back at the snake and winked, too.