Harry Potter 1

The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived in the street.

None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window.

None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window.

"Little tyke," chortled Mr. Dursley as he left the house.

"Little tyke," chortled Mr. Dursley as he left the house.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdos standing quite close by.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdos standing quite close by.

Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak!

Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak!

But then it struck Mr. Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt -- these people were obviously collecting for something... yes, that would be it.

He didn't see the owls swoop ing past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open- mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead.

It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying.

He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone, and had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind.

He put the receiver back down and stroked his mustache, thinking... no, he was being stupid.

"Sorry," he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell.

"Sorry," he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell.

Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last!

It just gave him a stern look.

"Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled.

While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr. Dursley crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden.

Mr. Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness.

It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead.

His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice.

He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something.

He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it.

Flocks of owls... shooting stars....

Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice.

It's just astounding... of all the things to stop him... but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"

Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles.

McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless.

If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it.

He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.

"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door.

"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back.

One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley...