book 5 - harry potter and the order of the phoenix

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harry potter and the order of the phoenix by j.k. rowling chapter one dudley demented the hottest day of the summer so far was drawing to a close and a drowsy silence lay over the large, square houses of privet drive. cars that were usually gleaming stood dusty in their drives and lawns that were once emerald green lay parched and yellowing; the use of hosepipes had been banned due to drought. deprived of their usual car-washing and lawn-mowing pursuits, the inhabitants of privet drive had retreated into the shade of their cool houses, windows thrown wide in the hope of tempting in a nonexistent breeze. the only person left outdoors was a teenage boy who was lying flat on his back in a flowerbed outside number four. he was a skinny, black-haired, bespectacled boy who had the pinched, slightly unhealthy look of someone who has grown a lot in …

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ed trying to butt in. where is he, anyway?” “i don’t know,” said aunt petunia, unconcerned. “not in the house.” uncle vernon grunted. “watching the news…” he said scathingly. “i’d like to know what he’s really up to. as if a normal boy cares what’s on the news - dudley hasn’t got a clue what’s going on; doubt he knows who the prime minister is! anyway, it’s not as if there’d be anything about his lot on our news–” “vernon, shh!” said aunt petunia. “the window’s open!” “oh - yes - sorry, dear.” the dursleys fell silent. harry listened to a jingle about fruit ‘n’ bran breakfast cereal while he watched mrs. figg, a batty cat-loving old lady from nearby wisteria walk, amble slowly past. she was frowning and muttering to herself. harry was very pleased he was concealed behind the bush, as mrs. figg had recently taken to asking …

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spanish baggage-handlers’ strike reaches its second week –” “give ‘em a lifelong siesta, i would,” snarled uncle vernon over the end of the newsreader’s sentence, but no matter: outside in the flowerbed, harry’s stomach seemed to unclench. if anything had happened, it would surely have been the first item on the news; death and destruction were more important than stranded holidaymakers. he let out a long, slow breath and stared up at the brilliant blue sky. every day this summer had been the same: the tension, the expectation, the temporary relief, and then mounting tension again… and always, growing more insistent all the time, the question of why nothing had happened yet. he kept listening, just in case there was some small clue, not recognized for what it really was by the muggles - an unexplained disappearance, perhaps, or some strange accident… but the baggage-handlers’ strike was followed by news …

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nce like a gunshot; a cat streaked out from under a parked car and flew out of sight; a shriek, a bellowed oath and the sound of breaking china came from the dursleys’ living room, and as though this was the signal harry had been waiting for he jumped to his feet, at the same time pulling from the waistband of his jeans a thin wooden wand as if he were unsheathing a sword - but before he could draw himself up to full height, the top of his head collided with the dursleys’ open window. the resultant crash made aunt petunia scream even louder. harry felt as though his head had been split in two. eyes streaming, he swayed, trying to focus on the street to spot the source of the noise, but he had barely staggered upright when two large purple hands reached through the open window and …

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of rage as he beckoned harry back towards him. harry moved a few steps closer, taking care to stop just short of the point at which uncle vernon’s outstretched hands could resume their strangling. “what the devil do you mean by it, boy?” asked uncle vernon in a croaky voice that trembled with fury. “what do i mean by what?” said harry coldly. he kept looking left and right up the street, still hoping to see the person who had made the cracking noise. “making a racket like a starting pistol right outside our –” “i didn’t make that noise,” said harry firmly. aunt petunia’s thin, horsy face now appeared beside uncle vernon’s wide, purple one. she looked livid. “why were you lurking under our window?” “yes - yes, good point, petunia! what were you doing under our window, boy?” “listening to the news,” said harry in a resigned voice. …

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harry potter and the order of the phoenix by j.k. rowling chapter one dudley demented the hottest day of the summer so far was drawing to a close and a drowsy silence lay over the large, square houses of privet drive. cars that were usually gleaming stood dusty in their drives and lawns that were once emerald green lay parched and yellowing; the use of hosepipes had been banned due to drought. deprived of their usual car-washing and lawn-mowing pursuits, the inhabitants of privet drive had retreated into the shade of their cool houses, windows thrown wide in the hope of tempting in a nonexistent breeze. the only person left outdoors was a teenage boy who was lying flat on …

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