CHAPTER FOUR
“ You must speak clearly, dear,” Mrs. Weasley told Harry as George dipped his hand into the flowerpot.“ And be sure to get out at the right grate....”
“ The right what?” said Harry nervously as the fire roared and whipped George out of sight, too.
“ Well, there are an awful lot of wizard fires to choose from, you know, but as long as you’ ve spoken clearly—”
“ He’ ll be fine, Molly, don’ t fuss,” said Mr. Weasley, helping himself to Floo powder, too.
“ But, dear, if he got lost, how would we ever explain to his aunt and uncle?”
“ They wouldn’ t mind,” Harry reassured her.“ Dudley would think it was a brilliant joke if I got lost up a chimney, don’ t worry about that—”
“ Well... all right... you go after Arthur,” said Mrs. Weasley.
“ Now, when you get into the fire, say where you’ re going—”“ And keep your elbows tucked in,” Ron advised.“ And your eyes shut,” said Mrs. Weasley.“ The soot—”“ Don’ t fidget,” said Ron.“ Or you might well fall out of the wrong fireplace—”“ But don’ t panic and get out too early; wait until you see Fred and George.”
Trying hard to bear all this in mind, Harry took a pinch of Floo powder and walked to the edge of the fire. He took a deep breath, scattered the powder into the flames, and stepped forward; the fire felt like a warm breeze; he opened his mouth and immediately swallowed a lot of hot ash.
“ D-Dia-gon Alley,” he coughed.
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