THE VANISHING GLASS
Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on the front step, but
Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. The sun rose on thesame tidy front gardens and lit up the brass
number four on the Dursleys’ front door; it crept into their living room, which was almost exactly the
same as it had been on the night when Mr. Dursleyhad seen that fateful news report about the owls.
Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there
had been lots of pictures of what looked like alarge pink beach ball wearing different-colored bonnets
— but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large blond boy riding
his first bicycle, on a carousel at thefair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and
kissed by his mother. The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house, too.
Yet Harry Potter was still there, asleep atthe moment, but not for long. His Aunt Petunia was awake
and it was her shrill voice that made the first noise of the day.
“Up! Get up! Now!”
Harry woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the dooragain.
“Up!” she screeched. Harry heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying
pan being put on the stove. He rolled onto his back and tried to remember the dream he had beenhaving. It had been a good one. There had been a flying motorcycle in it. He had a funny feeling he’d had
the same dream before.
His aunt was back outside the door.
“Are you up yet?” shedemanded.
“Nearly,” said Harry.
“Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don’t you dare let it burn, I want
everything perfect on Duddy’s birthday.”
“What did yousay?” his aunt snapped through the door.
Dudley’s birthday — how could he have forgotten? Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking
for socks. He found a pair under his bed...