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Mr. Dursley is disturbed by unusual occurrences and strange people in cloaks, which distract him from his daily routine. He encounters a cheerful old man who celebrates the downfall of You-Know-Who and refers to him as a Muggle, leaving Mr. Dursley confused and unsettled. Upon returning home, he is further irritated by the sight of a tabby cat that resembles one he saw earlier.

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22 views1 page

CDCDCD

Mr. Dursley is disturbed by unusual occurrences and strange people in cloaks, which distract him from his daily routine. He encounters a cheerful old man who celebrates the downfall of You-Know-Who and refers to him as a Muggle, leaving Mr. Dursley confused and unsettled. Upon returning home, he is further irritated by the sight of a tabby cat that resembles one he saw earlier.

Uploaded by

thepplaygame01
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
We take content rights seriously. If you suspect this is your content, claim it here.
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Download as PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd
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THE BOY WHO LIVED

might have been Harvey. Or Harold. There was no point in wor-


rying Mrs. Dursley; she always got so upset at any mention of her
sister. He didn’t blame her — if he’d had a sister like that . . . but all
the same, those people in cloaks . . .
He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon
and when he left the building at five o’clock, he was still so worried
that he walked straight into someone just outside the door.
“Sorry,” he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost
fell. It was a few seconds before Mr. Dursley realized that the man
was wearing a violet cloak. He didn’t seem at all upset at being al-
most knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a
wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passersby stare,
“Don’t be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Re-
joice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muggles like your-
self should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!”
And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and
walked off.
Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a
complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle,
whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off
for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never
hoped before, because he didn’t approve of imagination.
As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he
saw — and it didn’t improve his mood — was the tabby cat he’d
spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He
was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its
eyes.
“Shoo!” said Mr. Dursley loudly.

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