As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley lookedshocked and angry. After all,
they normally pretended she didn‘t have asister.
"No," she said sharply."Why?"
"Funny stuff on the news," Mr.Dursley mumbled. "Owls... shooting
stars... and there were a lot offunny-looking people in town today..."
"So?" snapped Mrs. Dursley.
"Well, I just thought... maybe... itwas something to do with... you
know... her crowd."
Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips.Mr. Dursley wondered
whether he dared tell her he’d heard thename "Potter." He decided he
didn‘t dare. Instead he said, as casuallyas he could, "Their son --
he’d be about Dudley‘s age now, wouldn’the?"
"I suppose so," said Mrs. Dursleystiffly.
"What‘s his name again? Howard, isn’tit?"
"Harry. Nasty, common name, if you askme."
"Oh, yes," said Mr. Dursley, hisheart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite
agree."
He didn‘t say another word on the subjectas they went upstairs to bed.
While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr.Dursley crept to the bedroom
window and peered down into the frontgarden. The cat was still there.
It was staring down Privet Drive as thoughit were waiting for
something.
Was he imagining things? Could all thishave anything to do with the
Potters? If it did... if it got out thatthey were related to a pair of
-- well, he didn’t think he could bear it.
The Dursleys got into bed. Mrs. Dursleyfell asleep quickly but Mr.
Dursley lay awake, turning it all over inhis mind. His last, comforting
thought before he fell asleep was that evenif the Potters were
involved, there was no reason for them tocome near him and Mrs.
Dursley. The Potters knew very well what heand Petunia thought about
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