It was strange to Harry that his new friend was a stone; stranger that he would act on its instructions without much thought. But he did not want to think much on it, lest he would break the odd, fragile bubble of expectant happiness he had made for himself.
He waited and waited for the perfect chance; and at last he was rewarded. Uncle Vernon had the 'brilliant' idea to rent a dilapidated hut situated on the edge of a jagged peninsula, after hearing that it would storm that night. They departed there via an old row-boat just when the rain started falling, but the prospect of getting some water to hand kept Harry from feeling too much of the cold air and raindrops and sea-spray. (In fact, he was quite tempted to just surreptitiously take the stone out of his pocket and let it be drenched directly by the pelting rain.)
Watching the new stack of unopened letters being burnt in the broken, empty hearth to warm the hut just made him more determined to try doing the instruction. So, a while after the Dursleys had retired to their alotted beds for the night (his aunt and uncle in the single bedroom the hut boasted, and his cousin on the rickety sofa in the main room), Harry pulled out the folded empty plastic package of the chips that had been his dinner from his back pocket and unfolded it, trying not to make too much noise meanwhile. Fingering the blue stone in his other pocket, he then crept towards the door of the bedroom and listened in for his aunt's and uncle's breathing patterns.
At length, though, deeming it futile given the rain pounding the roof of the hut and the waves battering the rocks, he returned to his assigned resting place – on the floor by the sofa – and stripped out of his clothes. (No sense in getting his clothes wet; although he would be mortified should someone happen to approach the rock in spite of the storm and see him… But he would risk almost everything for this anyway.) Afterwards, shivering but happily noting that Dudley was still fast asleep on the sofa, he tiptoed gingerly towards the front door, the blue stone clutched tightly in his left hand.
He had forgotten that the no-less-neglected hinges of the door creaked, though… But he had come so far, and refused to back down just because of this small hindrance. – The rain was heavy and made a lot of noise all around. If he went out quickly and shut the door as silently as he could, the Dursleys might not notice…
He did just that; tried, at least. In the end he was forced to slam the door shut, as his whole body shook and twitched uncontrollably from the freezing air and water. Now he just hoped that the possible wrath of his relatives and the chance of catching pneumonia were worth what he would soon find about the stone.