“There had to be one time you didn't get it,” said George.

He slid a considerable way down what felt like a stone slide, then landed on cold, damp earth. He stood up, looking around. It was pitch dark. He held up his wand, muttered, “Lumos!” and saw that he was in a very narrow, low, earthy passageway. He raised the map, tapped it with the tip of his wand, and muttered, “Mischief managed!” The map went blank at once. He folded it carefully, tucked it inside his robes, then, heart beating fast, both excited and apprehensive, he set off.

Uncle Vernon drained his teacup, glanced at his watch, and added, “I'd better be off in a minute, Petunia. Marge's train gets in at ten.”

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