Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair, and bright green eyes. He looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's, and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was. Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry had always been small and skinny for his age. Harry didn't look it, but he was very fast.
Dudley's favorite punching bag was Harry, but he couldn't often catch him. Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Harry, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise - unless of course it involved punching somebody. It looked as though Dudley had gotten the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and the racing bike. The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley's birthday presents. When he was dressed he went down the hall into the kitchen.
#Harry potter book 1 pages full
Harry was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where he slept. He found a pair under his bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on. "What did you say?" his aunt snapped through the door.ĭudley's birthday - how could he have forgotten? Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday." "Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. He had a funny feeling he'd had the same dream before. There had been a flying motorcycle in it. He rolled onto his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having.
Harry heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. His Aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice that made the first noise of the day. Yet Harry Potter was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house, too. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large 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 the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed. Dursley had seen that fateful news report about the owls. The sun rose on the same 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. 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.
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