After breakfast was done, and the dishes cleared away, the family gathered back at the kitchen table. Dudley puffed himself up a bit, looking a bit pompous.

  "Now," he intoned. "As it is officially Family Day, the Floor is Open To Nominations.."

  Emily poked him in the ribs with the blunt end of one of her knitting needles, puncturing his blowhard act. Dudley squirmed away, and said, "Stop it! You know I'm ticklish!"

  To which Emily replied, "Then get on with it, you big show-off." Dudley grinned at her.

  "Fine," he said. "Anybody got a suggestion for what to do? I have, but if there's a better idea out there...?"

  Iris spoke up, "It doesn't matter to me, but I do want it to be something James hasn't done before."

  James grinned. "That won't be hard, Irie. Everything I know about Muggles, I learned from you."

  "Well, then," Dudley said. "Here's what I have. The Museum of British Folklore have taken over the running of a new place. It's called the Museum of Witchcraft and Magic, and it's in the village of Boscastle in Cornwall. I thought it would be interesting to see what non-magical folks like us think magic is. And, we will have our own wizard-in-training to tell us how much of it is bollocks!"

  James raised his eyebrows and looked at Iris, who grinned. "Sounds pretty cool," James said. Emily, though, frowned.

  "Cornwall is a bit far for a daytrip, isn't it?"

  Dudley nodded. "Yes, indeed it is. But that's the other part of the thing. George, well, actually, George's dad, has arranged us some very discrete Portkeys, to get us there and back. We won't even have to leave the property!"

  Iris' eyes went round as saucers. "We get to use a Portkey?"

  Her Dad beamed. "Yes, indeed! Should be a lark, eh, James?"

  James, who had traveled by Portkey, thought 'lark' might be a bit much. Seeing Uncle Dud's reaction, though, should be a right laugh.

  "Right, that's settled then. Our departure time is in about 40 minutes." Dudley rubbed his hands together. "I checked the weather in Cornwall, and it's supposed to be between 23° and 25°, not bad at all. Not much chance of rain, but we'll take a couple of brollys." He looked to Emily. "What do you think, dear, hats all around?"

  Emily nodded firmly. "Definitely. Iris will come home with sunburnt ears, no matter how much sunblock we use. Your Panama, dear, my straw hat I wear for gardening. Iris, go pick out one of your bucket hats, and James..." She paused, considering him, finger tapping at her lips.

  James felt himself start to bridle. Hat? He didn't need no ruddy girly-looking hat! He was a proud descendant of a long line of Weasleys. And the Weasley way to deal with the sun was; they burned, they peeled, they freckled, and they got on with it!

  The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Emily's face lit up. "Wait! I bought a new bucket hat for Iris, a while back. It must have been on the shelf backward, because I didn't see the embroidered patch until I got it home. I was going to return it..." She grabbed her knitting supplies carry-all, which doubled as her purse. Grasping both knitting needles in one hand, she started to root about under her balls of yarn.

  "Ah," she said, coming up with a cloth hat gripped between the needles. She took it with her other hand, stuck the needles back into a skein of yarn, and shaped it out.

  Well, it sure ain't girly, thought James. In fact, it looked like the kind of hat that Special Air Service troopers wore on deployment. They had watched a very thrilling movie the night before on the Dursley's D&W Widescreen 3D-TV, (which, incidentally, was insulated against magic). It had featured SAS putting down some sort of ridiculous threat with their bang-wands, ah, guns, he guessed they were called. James hesitated. Emily turned the hat around so he could see the front.

  "How do you feel about motorcycles, James?" Emily asked.

  James goggled. The brightly embroidered motorcycle was almost a match for the one that had belonged to his god-grandfather, (or something like that), Sirius Black.

  His mouth went round, but he managed to stop himself from saying, WOW!, and snatching it out of Emily's hand.

  "That'll be fine," he said, just oozing cool 'whatever' vibes. "Thanks."

  ***

  They gathered in the back garden. There were no worries about being observed. His mother's practice of having a regular snoop into the gardens of others had led Dudley to install an eight foot-tall, very solid fence. In a neighborhood of one-story homes, that was infernally adequate. Petunia could spy all she liked at Privet Drive. Dud and Em's neighbors were nice folks who deserved their privacy.

  Dudley started peering around in corners and under plants. "George said I'd know it when I saw it," he muttered. "Wait. What's that?" He reached under a rather prickly shrub, and pulled out a small, battered, empty, white cardstock box. He looked at it in his hand.

  "James," he said, conversationally. "Has anybody ever told you that your Uncle George is a git?"

  James considered. "Well, if you don't count my Mom, Dad, all my Uncles, my Grandparents, my Aunts Angelina, Hermione, Fleur, Audrey, most of my cousins, and you, then..., no." He shrugged. "But considering that it is listed on his business cards right after entrepreneurial, I don't think it's a big secret or anything."

  Iris screwed up her nose in puzzlement. "What's an entrepreneur, anyway, Daddy?"

  Dudley grunted, "It's a polite way to say, 'greedy bas...' (Dudley Vernon Dursley! Language!). Dudley broke out laughing, then turned the box so they could see the lid.

  "MR. D'S TON-TONGUE TOFFEES - THEY'RE A MOUTHFUL!" Under that, in smaller print, "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes - Diagon Alley - Hogsmeade - Orlando." And, under that, in print so tiny as to be almost invisible, "Counter-Charm: Reducio Lingua. Must Wait 5 Minutes to Cast, or Tongue Length and Wait Time Doubles."

  Emily smiled behind her hand, Iris giggled, and James choked on a laugh he was trying to suppress. Dudley checked his watch.

  "Just in time. James, any advice?"

  James nodded. "Make sure you're touching it, just a finger will be enough. When it glows blue and vibrates, it's ready to go."

  Dudley held out the box. James put a right fingertip on the box, then wrapped his left arm around Iris' shoulders. He said, quietly, "Use one of your left fingers to touch the box, and hold on to me with your right arm. It's going to be a bumpy ride."

  Emily came up behind them, put her left hand on Iris' shoulder, and reached around James to touch the box with her right forefinger.

  Dudley was looking at his watch. "Three. Two. One..."

  Blue Glow. Vibration. A Grapnel Hook latched on behind James' navel, and with a yank, they were off!

  .