Гарри Поттер и философский камень
Letters from No One
"Thatdoesit,"saidUncleVernon, tryingtospeakcalmlybutpullinggreattuftsoutofhismustacheatthesametime. "Iwantyouallbackhereinfiveminutesreadytoleave. We’regoingaway. Justpacksomeclothes. Noarguments!"
Helookedsodangerouswithhalfhismustachemissing thatnoonedaredargue. Tenminuteslatertheyhadwrenchedtheirway throughtheboarded-updoorsandwereinthecar,speedingtowardthehighway. Dudleywassnifflinginthebackseat; hisfatherhadhithimroundtheheadforholdingthemup whilehetriedtopackhistelevision,VCR,andcomputerinhissportsbag.
Theydrove.Andtheydrove. EvenAuntPetuniadidn’tdareaskwheretheyweregoing. Everynowandthen UncleVernonwouldtakeasharpturn anddriveintheoppositedirectionforawhile.
"Shake’emoff...shake’emoff," hewouldmutterwheneverhedidthis.
Theydidn’tstoptoeatordrinkallday. BynightfallDudleywashowling. He’dneverhadsuchabaddayinhislife. Hewashungry,he’dmissedfivetelevisionprogramshe’dwantedtosee, andhe’dnevergonesolongwithoutblowingupanalienonhiscomputer.
UncleVernonstoppedatlastoutsideagloomy-lookinghotelontheoutskirtsofabigcity. DudleyandHarrysharedaroomwithtwinbedsanddamp,mustysheets. DudleysnoredbutHarrystayedawake,sittingonthewindowsill, staringdownatthelightsofpassingcarsandwondering...
Theyatestalecornflakesandcoldtinnedtomatoesontoastforbreakfastthenextday.
