Mr Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove towards town, he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day
But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks. Mr Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes-the get-ups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdos standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all, why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald green cloak! The nerve of him! But then it struck Mr Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt these people were obviously collecting for something, yes, that would be it. The traffic moved on, and a few minutes later, Mr Dursley arrived in the grinning car park, his mind back on drills.
Mr Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his
Office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it
Harder to concentrate on drills that morning. He didn't see the perfectly owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down b the street did, they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as ow after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime, Mr Dursley, however, had a normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people, He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more. He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the baker's opposite.
He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he, I passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy. This lot were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying
The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard -
yes, their son, Harry
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