"J. K. Rowling - Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rowling J. K)

тАФ CHAPTER ONE тАФ

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 -
for 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 a short space of time. His jeans were torn and
dirty, his T-shirt baggy and faded, and the soles of his trainers were peeling away from
the uppers. Harry Potter's appearance did not endear him to the neighbours, who were the
sort of people who thought scruffi-ness ought to be punishable by law, but as he had
hidden himself behind a large hydrangea bush this evening he was quite invisible to
passers-by. In fact, the only way he would be spotted was if his Uncle Vernon or Aunt
Petunia stuck their heads out of the living-room window and looked straight down into
the flowerbed below.

On the whole, Harry thought he was to be congratulated on his idea of hiding here. He
was not, perhaps, very comfortable lying on the hot, hard earth but, on the other hand,
nobody was glaring at him, grinding their teeth so loudly that he could not hear the news,
or shooting nasty questions at him, as had happened every time he had tried sitting down
in the living room to watch television with his aunt and uncle.

Almost as though this thought had fluttered through the open window, Vernon Dursley,
Harry's uncle, suddenly spoke.

'Glad to see the boy's stopped 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 тАж' 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 тАФ '

'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 him round for