r sister and her good for nothing husband were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be. The Dursleys
. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, gray Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cl
easy. This bunch were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn’t see
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bunch were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn’t see a single collecting tin. It was on his way
ross the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his tele
ay, you,” he said, punching Harry in the ribs. Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard on the concrete fl
ding on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn’t a map in sight. What could he have been thinking
” said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he’d planned this. Harry knew he ought to f
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the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all ove
and had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back do
ppening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work, and M
couldn’t bear people who dressed in funny clothes—the getups you saw on young people! He supposed th
ost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile a
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ding on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn’t a map in sight. What could he have been thinking
ous things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most
cked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice
ll, gray Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that str
en in my Illustrations. Each Illustration is a little story. If you watch them, in a few minutes they
e of them weren’t young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald gre