Petunia Dursley sat in the driver's seat of her husband's car, trying to think rationally. After she'd heard the woman leave with Harry, she had cut the ropes binding her with one of her husband's drills that he always left in the trunk and managed to kick the lid open.
Now she was driving back to her house to do the only thing left she could think of. She was going over the speed limit, but that didn't matter now. When she reached home, she leapt out of the car, not bothering to shut off the motor and ran inside. Petunia rushed up the stairs to Harry's bedroom and threw open the door.
Normally the sight of her nephew's school books lying open on the floor would have sent her into a frenzy, but now she ignored them as she stepped past his bed to the desk at the other end of the room. She picked up the only writing utensil in sight, a feather quill and began to scribble a note on a spare piece of parchment.
A soft hoot told her where the owl was. She unlatched the cage and tried to give it the note. It only nipped at her and turned away stubbornly.
After several failed attempts to persuade the bird, Petunia was running out of ideas. Then out of the blue a most ludicrous thought came to mind. "No," she thought. It couldn't possibly work. But there was nothing else to do and time was running short. Thinking she must be insane she took a deep breath.
"Look, I know you probably haven't the slightest clue what I'm saying, but Harry is in trouble and I need you to take this to someone who can help." The owl simply stared at her shrewdly.
Petunia felt very foolish indeed. What made her think that this animal could understand her? She was about to leave when the owl hooted quietly, took the note and flew out the open window. She watched dazedly as it vanished into the distance. "I hope this works."