Chapter Three

The Dursleys Departing

The sound of the front door slamming echoed up the stairs and a voice roared,
“Oh! You!”

Sixteen years of being addressed thus left Harry in no doubt when his uncle was
calling, nevertheless, he did not immediately respond. He was still at the narrow fragment
in which, for a split second, he had thought he saw Dumbledore’s eye. It was not until his
uncle bellowed, “BOY!” that Harry got slowly out of bed and headed for the bedroom
door, pausing to add the piece of broken mirror to the rucksack filled with things he
would be taking with him.

“You took you time!” roared Vernon Dursley when Harry appeared at the top of
the stairs, “Get down here. I want a word!”

Harry strolled downstairs, his hands deep in his pants pockets. When he searched
the living room he found all three Dursleys. They were dressed for packing; Uncle
Vernon in an old ripped-up jacke