Chapter 1

Mr. Dursley worked for a firm called Grinnings, which made nails. He was a thin, reedy man with far more neck than was natural on a body, although he did have a very small, toothbrush-sized mustache. Mrs. Dursley was fat, a brunette and had nearly no neck, although she could have done with one, as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the

neighbors. The Dursleys had a small daughter called Rose and in their opinion there wasn't a prettier girl anywhere.

The Dursleys were very poor, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters. They may have been poor, but they had a reputation to uphold, and the Potters would have ruined it. The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived in the street. The Dursleys knew that the Potters had a small son, too, but they had never even seen him. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Rose mixing with a child like that.

When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the bright, sunny Wednesday our story ends, there was nothing about the clear sky outside to suggest that nothing interesting would soon be happening all over the of them noticed a large, tawny owl not flutter past the window.

Mrs. Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her son and how Rose had learned a new word ("Please?"). When Rose had been put to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news:

"And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls have been expected to flock in daylight in a rare occurrence occurring only once every 10 years, there have been hundreds of sighting of owls flying into cave. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their behaviour patterns." The newscaster allowed himself a grin. "Global Warming is being blamed."

Mrs. Dursley came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. Once they had been drunk, they went upstairs to bed.

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

Wait, what cat?

Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did... if it got out that they were related to a pair of - well, he didn't think he could bear it.

The Dursleys got into bed. Mrs. Dursley fell asleep quickly but lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Potters were involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and . The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about them and their kind... He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on - he yawned and turned over- it couldn't affect them...

Wait, why was he blaming the Potters?