Harry Potter 04
Mrs.Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs.Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learned a new word("Won't!"). Mr. Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had beenput to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report onthe evening news:
"Andfinally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls havebeen behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night andare hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings ofthese birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable toexplain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." Thenewscaster allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to JimMcGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight,Jim?"
"Well,Ted," said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's notonly the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent,Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rainI promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps peoplehave been celebrating Bonfire Night early -- it's not until next week, folks!But I can promise a wet night tonight."
Mr.Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owlsflying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And awhisper, a whisper about the Potters... Mrs. Dursley came into the living roomcarrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. Hecleared his throat nervously. "Er -- Petunia, dear -- you haven't heardfrom your sister lately, have you?"
Ashe had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, theynormally pretended she didn't have a sister.
"No,"she said sharply. "Why?"
"Funnystuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled. "Owls... shooting stars...and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today..."
"So?"snapped Mrs. Dursley.
"Well,I just thought... maybe... it was something to do with... you know... hercrowd."
Mrs.Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Dursley wondered whether hedared tell her he'd heard the name "Potter." He decided he didn'tdare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their son -- he'd beabout Dudley's age now, wouldn't he?"
"Isuppose so," said Mrs. Dursley stiffly. "What's his name again?Howard, isn't it?" "Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me.""Oh, yes," said Mr. Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, Iquite agree." He didn't say another word on the subject as they wentupstairs to bed. While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr. Dursley crept tothe bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was stillthere. It was staring down Privet Drive as though it were waiting forsomething. Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with thePotters? If it did... if it got out that they were related to a pair of --well, he didn't think he could bear it.
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