Коммуникативный дискомфорт в лингвистическом тексте

1

“Are you a Socialist, Wilf?” she asked.

Socialist? Wilf was alarmed. The word had become sort of mixed up with things Wilf didn't understand or hadn't experienced. Things like vegetarianism, treason and women's rights.

“No, no, I'm not a Socialist,” said Wilf. “I vote Labour, normal like.”

2

“So you're not a Revolutionary?” insisted Mary Jane.

What was she asking now, thought Wilf. He broke into a sweat. Revolutionaries blew aeroplanes up, didn't they?

“No, I'm not a Revolutionary,” said Wilf. “I've never even been to an airport, let alone been on a plane.”

3

"Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!" And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off.

Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination.

4

She saw Spiggy look up from his labours. There was adoration in his eyes. She engaged him in conversation, enquiring about his wife. “Run off,” said Spiggy.

“Children?”

“She took 'em wiv 'er.”

“So, you're a gay bachelor?” tinkled the Queen Mother.

Spiggy's brow darkened. “Who's been sayin' I'm gay?”

Turning to Spiggy, Charles said, “What Granny meant to say was that you probably have a carefree existence, unshackled by domestic responsibilities.”

“I work hard for my living,” said Spiggy, defensively. “You wanna try luggin' carpets round all day.”

Charles was discomfited by this misunderstanding. Why couldn't his family simply talk to their neighbours without … er … constant … er …?

5

"You could just leave me here," Harry put in hopefully (he'd be able to watch what he wanted on television for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley's computer).

Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon.

"And come back and find the house in ruins?" she snarled.

6

“I had a dream about a motorcycle,” said Harry, remembering suddenly. "It was flying."

Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Harry, his face like a gigantic beet with a mustache: "MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!"

7

Harry said, “Eh up, Dad, what's goin' on?”

Charles yanked Harry's hand and said: “Harry, for goodness' sake, speak properly.”

8

Harry said, “If I speak proper I get my cowin' face smashed in.”

“By whom?” asked Charles, looking concerned.

“By who,” corrected Harry. “By the kids in 'Ell Close, tha's who.”

9

Mrs Strickland smiled icily at Charles and said: “<…> It was necessary to punish Chantelle Toby on Friday <…>“

Charles said, “Ah! Well, I hope it won't be necessary to punish Harry, he's quite a sensitive little chap.”

“No I ain't,” said Harry.

Charles winced at Harry's ungrammatical protestation <…>.

10

Beverley shouted, “You just wanted to get in with the Queen.”

Violet shouted, “I ain't no snob. I chose 'er because she were awake an' she don't panic. Unlike you, Beverley Threadgold, 'oo can't stand the sight of blood!”

11

He said, “D'you know who you look like? I'll tell you. You look like that woman who impersonates the Queen. You do, you do, you look like her - wassaname? You know the one. You look more like her than she does. You do. You do. You could make a fortune. You shid do it, you shid. You shid do it. You know who I've been taken for?”

The Queen looked at his broken veined face. His tropical sunset eyes, his matted hair, his verdigris teeth.

“G'wan, guess who I'm took for?”

“I simply can't imagine,” said the Queen, turning her head away from his cidery breath.

“Hee, hee, hee,” laughed the man. “Hee, hee, hee, that's verra guid. You sound jus' like her. `Ai simplay carrnt eemaygin',” he mocked. “Jus' like her, jus' like the Queen. <…> Who's in charge now?”

“Jack Barker,” said the Queen, trying to flatten her vowels.

12

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. <..>

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Harry jumped. Hagrid must have jumped, too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he got quickly off the spindly chair.

An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Hello," said Harry awkwardly.

13

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." It wasn't a question. <…>

Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Harry. Harry wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy.

14

“But, as you er … may know, we … that is … my family … we aren't allowed to er … actually … sell any of our er …”

“Stuff?” Warren was getting sick of waiting for Charles to finish his sentences. What a dork! And this bloke was lined up to be King and rule over Warren?

15

The Threadgolds watched as a shadowy figure ordered a tall man out of the van. Was she a foreigner? It wasn't English she was talking was it? But as their ears became more accustomed they realised it was English, but posh English, really posh.

“Tone, why they moved a posho in Hell Close?” asked Beverley.

“Dunno,” replied Tony, peering into the gloom. “Seen her some where before. Is she Dr Khan's receptionist?”

“No,” said Beverley <…>.

“They've got a dog,” said Tony.

Prince Philip spoke. “It's abso-bloody-lutely impossible. I refuse. I'd sooner live in a bloody ditch. And that bloody light will send me mad.”

He shouted up at the light which carried on with its storm-at-sea impression, taking on hurricane status when Philip took hold of its post and shook it violently from side to side.

Beverley said, “I got it. He's a loony, one of them that's been let out to die in the community.”

Tony watched as Philip ran to the back of the van and screamed at the little dog, “Quiet, Harris! You sodding little turd!”

“You might be right, Bev,” said Tony. They turned to go back into their house when the Queen addressed them.

“Excuse me, but would you have an axe I could borrow?”

“An ix?” repeated Tony.

“Yes, an axe.” The Queen came to their front gate.

“An ix?” puzzled Beverley.

“Yes.”

“I dunno what an `ix' is,” Tony said.

“You don't know what an axe is?”

“No.”

“One uses it for chopping wood.”

16

The Queen was growing impatient. She had made a simple request; her new neighbours were obviously morons. She was aware that educational standards had fallen, but not to know what an axe was … It was a scandal.

“I need an implement of some kind to gain access to my house.”

“Arse?”

“House!”

17

The driver volunteered his services as translator. His hours talking to the Queen had given him a new found linguistic confidence.

“This lady wants to know if you've got a axe.”

“Yeah, I got a axe, but I ain't 'anding it over to 'im,” said Tony, pointing at Philip. The Queen came down the garden path towards the Threadgolds and the light from their hall illuminated her face. Beverley gasped and curtsied clumsily. Tony reeled back and clutched the lintel of the front door for support before saying, “It's out the back, I'll geddit.”

Left alone, Beverley burst into tears.

18

In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to him, slipped a long robe over his head, and began to pin it to the right length.

"Hello," said the boy, "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to took at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

Harry was strongly reminded of Dudley.

19

"Have you got your own broom?" the boy went on.

"No," said Harry.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No," Harry said again, wondering what on earth Quidditch could be.

"I do -- Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No," said Harry, feeling more stupid by the minute.

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been -- imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"Mmm," said Harry, wishing he could say something a bit more interesting.

20

The door was hit with such force that it swung clean off its hinges and with a deafening crash landed flat on the floor.

A giant of a man was standing in the doorway. <…>

"An' here's Harry! <…> Las' time I saw you, you was only a baby," said the giant. "Anyway - Harry, <…> a very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here -- I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right."

From an inside pocket of his black overcoat he pulled a slightly squashed box. Harry opened it with trembling fingers. Inside was a large, sticky chocolate cake with Happy Birthday Harry written on it in green icing.

21

Harry looked up at the giant. He meant to say thank you, but the words got lost on the way to his mouth, and what he said instead was, "Who are you?"<…>

"True, I haven't introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."

22

<…> He bent down over the fireplace; they couldn't see what he was doing but when he drew back a second later, there was a roaring fire there. <…> Soon the hut was full of the sound and smell of sizzling sausage.<…>

He passed the sausages to Harry, who was so hungry he had never tasted anything so wonderful, but he still couldn't take his eyes off the giant. Finally, as nobody seemed about to explain anything, he said,

"I'm sorry, but I still don't really know who you are."

The giant took a gulp of tea and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Call me Hagrid," he said, "everyone does. An' like I told yeh, I'm Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts -- yeh'll know all about Hogwarts, o' course.

"Er -- no," said Harry.

23

Hagrid looked shocked.

"Sorry," Harry said quickly.

24

“Sorry?” barked Hagrid, turning to stare at the Dursleys, who shrank back into the shadows. “It' s them as should be sorry! I knew yeh weren't I' yer letters but I never thought yeh wouldn't even know abou' Hogwarts, fer cryin' out loud! Did yeh never wonder where yet parents learned it all?”

25

"All what?" asked Harry.

"ALL WHAT?" Hagrid thundered. "Now wait jus' one second!"

He had leapt to his feet. In his anger he seemed to fill the whole hut. The Dursleys were cowering against the wall.

26

"Do you mean ter tell me," he growled at the Dursleys, "that this boy -- this boy! -- knows nothin' abou' -- about ANYTHING?"

Harry thought this was going a bit far. He had been to school, after all, and his marks weren't bad.

"I know some things," he said. "I can, you know, do math and stuff."

27

But Hagrid simply waved his hand and said, "About our world, I mean. Your world. My world. Yer parents' world."

"What world?"

Hagrid looked as if he was about to explode.

"DURSLEY!" he boomed.

28

Uncle Vernon, who had gone very pale, whispered something that sounded like "Mimblewimble." Hagrid stared wildly at Harry.

"But yeh must know about yet mom and dad," he said. "I mean, they're famous. You're famous."

"What? My -- my mom and dad weren't famous, were they?"

"Yeh don' know... yeh don' know..." Hagrid ran his fingers through his hair, fixing Harry with a bewildered stare.

"Yeh don' know what yeh are?" he said finally.

Uncle Vernon suddenly found his voice.

"Stop!" he commanded. "Stop right there, sit! I forbid you to tell the boy anything!"

29

A braver man than Vernon Dursley would have quailed under the furious look Hagrid now gave him; when Hagrid spoke, his every syllable trembled with rage.

"You never told him? Never told him what was in the letter Dumbledore left fer him? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Dursley! An' you've kept it from him all these years?"

"Kept what from me?" said Harry eagerly.

"STOP! I FORBID YOU!" yelled Uncle Vernon in panic. Aunt Petunia gave a gasp of horror.

30

"Ah, go boil yet heads, both of yeh," said Hagrid. "Harry -- yet a wizard."

There was silence inside the hut. Only the sea and the whistling wind could be heard.

"-- a what?" gasped Harry.

"A wizard, o' course," said Hagrid.<…>

"We swore when we took him in we'd put a stop to that rubbish," said Uncle Vernon, "swore we'd stamp it out of him! Wizard indeed!"

"You knew?" said Harry. "You knew I'm a -- a wizard?"

31

"Knew!" shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly."Knew! Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that-that school-and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was -- a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!"

She stopped to draw a deep breath and then went ranting on. It seemed she had been wanting to say all this for years.

"Then she met that Potter at school and they left and got married and had you, and of course I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as -- as -- abnormal -- and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you!"

32

Harry had gone very white. As soon as he found his voice he said, "Blown up? You told me they died in a car crash!"

"CAR CRASH!" roared Hagrid, jumping up so angrily that the Dursleys scuttled back to their corner. "How could a car crash kill Lily an' James Potter? It's an outrage! A scandal! Harry Potter not knowin' his own story when every kid in our world knows his name!"

33

Hagrid looked at Harry with warmth and respect blazing in his eyes, but Harry, instead of feeling pleased and proud, felt quite sure there had been a horrible mistake. A wizard? Him? How could he possibly be? He'd spent his life being clouted by Dudley, and bullied by Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon; if he was really a wizard, why hadn't they been turned into warty toads every time they'd tried to lock him in his cupboard? If he'd once defeated the greatest sorcerer in the world, how come Dudley had always been able to kick him around like a football?

"Hagrid," he said quietly, "I think you must have made a mistake. I don't think I can be a wizard."

34

"Good Lord," said the bartender, peering at Harry, "is this -- can this be --?"

The Leaky Cauldron had suddenly gone completely still and silent.

35

"Bless my soul," whispered the old bartender, "Harry Potter... what an honor."

He hurried out from behind the bar, rushed toward Harry and seized his hand, tears in his eyes.

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back."

Harry didn't know what to say.

36

“<…> They say he met vampires in the Black Forest, and there was a nasty bit o' trouble with a hag -- never been the same since. Scared of the students, scared of his own subject now, where's me umbrella?"

Vampires? Hags? Harry's head was swimming.

37

"I just take the train from platform nine and three-quarters at eleven o'clock," he read.

His aunt and uncle stared.

"Platform what?"

"Nine and three-quarters."

"Don't talk rubbish," said Uncle Vernon. "There is no platform nine and three-quarters."

38

"Thanks," said Harry, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes.

"What's that?" said one of the twins suddenly, pointing at Harry's lightning scar.

"Blimey," said the other twin. "Are you…”

"He is," said the first twin. "Aren't you?" he added to Harry.

"What?" said Harry.

"Harry Potter, " chorused the twins.

"Oh, him," said Harry. "I mean, yes, I am."

The two boys gawked at him, and Harry felt himself turning red. Then, to his relief, a voice came floating in through the train's open door.

39

"... and until Hagrid told me, I didn't know anything about being a wizard or about my parents or Voldemort"

Ron gasped.

"What?" said Harry.

"You said You-Know-Who's name!" said Ron, sounding both shocked and impressed. "I'd have thought you, of all people --"

"I'm not trying to be brave or anything, saying the name," said Harry, I just never knew you shouldn't. See what I mean? I've got loads to learn... <…>”

40

"I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly. "My brothers told me about you -- you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy --" the ghost began stiffly, but sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted.

41

"Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?"

Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted.

"Like this," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge.

42

Professor McGonagall stopped outside a classroom. She opened the door and poked her head inside.

"Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?"

Wood? thought Harry, bewildered; was Wood a cane she was going to use on him?

43

Professor McGonagall, in a tartan bathrobe and a hair net, had Malfoy by the ear.

"Detention!" she shouted. "And twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how dare you --"

"You don't understand, Professor. Harry Potter's coming -- he's got a dragon!"

"What utter rubbish! How dare you tell such lies! Come on -- I shall see Professor Snape about you, Malfoy!"

44

"Why's Bane so angry?" he asked. "What was that thing you saved me from, anyway?"

Firenze slowed to a walk, warned Harry to keep his head bowed in case of low-hanging branches, but did not answer Harry's question.

45

They made their way through the trees in silence for so long that Harry thought Firenze didn't want to talk to him anymore.

46

Beverley's heart pounded as she spoke. How did you talk to someone whose head you were used to licking and sticking on an envelope? She unpegged Tony's best jumper which was frozen into an attitude of arms-raised triumph.

47

“Harris found a rat,” said the Queen.

“A ret?”

“A rat, look!”

48

A youth with a shaved head stood hunched and shivering in the icy wind. He approached Charles.

“You need a video, don't you?”

Charles said, “Actually, we do rather, that is, my wife does. We left ours behind,

didn't think in the, er … but … aren't they awfully, er … well … expensive?”

“Normal, yeah, they are, but I can get 'em for fifty quid.”

49

“Fifty quid?”

“Yeah, I know this bloke, see, what gets 'em.”

“A philanthropist, is he?”

Warren Deacon stared uncomprehendingly at Charles. “He's just a bloke.”

50

“And they, er … that is … these video machines, do they … er … work?”

“'Course. They're from good 'omes,” Warren said, indignantly.

Something was puzzling Charles. How did this rodent-faced youth know that they had no video?

51

“Please yourself, Maggie,” said Spiggy, trying to be friendly.

“Maggie?” She pulled herself up to her full height. “How dare you speak to me in that tone. I am Princess Margaret to you.”

52

He thought she was going to hit him. She pulled back a beautifully tailored Karl Lagerfeld sleeve and showed him her fist, but she withdrew it and contented herself with shouting, “You horrid little fat man,” as she ran back to her Hell Close home.

53

“You're blocking the thoroughfare.”

None of the women knew for sure what a thoroughfare was. Was it the same as a pavement? A woman, whose pregnant belly strained against her anorak, said, “We're guardin' the van for the Queen Mother.”

54

“It's cos a you my 'usband's doin' two year in Pentonville,” the woman went on.

PC Ludlow should have ignored her remarks but, being young and inexperienced, he said, “So, he's innocent of any crime, is he?” He'd tried to get a sceptical tone in his voice, but it hadn't quite worked.

55

The pregnant woman took it as a genuine question. PC Ludlow saw with horror that tears were now dripping down her round, flushed cheeks. Was this what his instructors had called a dialogue with the public?

56

Mrs Christmas practically swooned with delight and dropped into a curtsey, bending her fat knees and bowing her head, but when she arose from abasing herself in front of the Princess, she was disturbed to find that Princess Anne was curtseying to her, Winnie Christmas. She didn't know what to make of it. It put her at sixes and sevens. What did it mean? Was she taking the piss? But no. She looked dead serious. Dead serious. As though Winnie was as good as she was. I mean.

57

“Oh well, thank you and goodnight,” said the Queen. <…>

The Queen said again, “Goodnight.”

The butcher turned his back and began to place the plastic parsley around the edge of the display shelves.

The Queen said, “Have I offended you in some way?”

The butcher said, “Look, you've got your thirty pence worth, just close the door behind you.”

58

“Evening, madam. Settling in all right?”

The Queen smiled and nodded. “Yes, finding one's way.”

“That's what I like to hear. Sorry to hear about your husband.”

“My husband?”

“Yes, I hear he's bad.”

“Bad?”

“Poorly, off his head.”

“He's depressed, certainly.”

59

The Queen explained that she wished to make a broth.

“A brawth?” repeated Victor.

“A broth - a thin stew,” the Queen explained. “I have the bones what else does one need?”

Victor looked baffled, the kitchen was a place of mystery to him. All he knew was that cold ingredients were taken in and hot food came out, at more or less regular intervals.

60

“<…> When were you born, Phil?” she asked cheerily.

“Born 10 June 1921 at Mon Repos, Corfu,” he replied mechanically, as though before a Court Martial.

The doctor laughed: “Mon Repos? You're pulling my leg; that's Edna Everage's address, surely?”

“No,” said the Queen, tightening her lips. “He's quite right. He was born in a house called Mon Repos.”

61

She asked about Leslie, his baby half-sister.

“She screams all night,” he said, and the Queen noticed that he had black circles under his eyes. “She's wicked,” he added.

The Queen thought it was a little harsh to call a baby wicked.

62

“Is that her dummy?” she said, pointing to the huge rubber dummy he was wearing on a ribbon around his neck.

“No, it's mine,” he said.

“But aren't you rather old for a dummy?” puzzled the Queen.

“No, it's the business,” said the daft teenager, and he took a nasal block from amongst the voluminous folds of his trousers and stuffed it up his nostrils, and then, to the Queen's surprise, smeared it over his face.

63

As their Range Rover sped away from the barrier, Randy shouted, “You mothers!” leaving a whole crowd of policemen scratching their heads.

“Mother?” What kind of an insult was that?

64

“I cun't eat, cun't smoke, cun't drink.”<…>

Diana blushed. Gracious, she was no prude, but she hated to hear a woman swear.

65

Mrs. Dursley came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. "Er -- Petunia, dear -- you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?"

As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.

"No," she said sharply. "Why?"

66

"Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled. "Owls... shooting stars... and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today..."

"So?" snapped Mrs. Dursley.

"Well, I just thought... maybe... it was something to do with... you know... her crowd."

67

Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Potter." He decided he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their son - he'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't he?"

"I suppose so," said Mrs. Dursley stiffly.

68

"What's his name again? Howard, isn't it?"

"Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me."

"Oh, yes," said Mr. Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree."

69

"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."

"I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably.

70

“<…> Would you care for a lemon drop?"

"A what?"

"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of"

"No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops.

71

"As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone -"

"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him

by his name? All this 'You- Know-Who' nonsense -- for eleven years I

have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name:

Voldemort."

Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was

unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice.

72

"It all gets so

confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason

to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name.

"I know you haven 't.", said Professor McGonagall, sounding half

exasperated, half admiring.

73

"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."

"You don't mean -- you can't mean the people who live here?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore -- you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son -- I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!"

74

"It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."

"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous - a legend -- I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future -- there will be books written about Harry -- every child in our world will know his name!"

75

Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

"Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "you'll wake the Muggles!"

76

"Are you up yet?" she demanded.

"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."

Harry groaned.

"What did you say?" his aunt snapped through the door.

"Nothing, nothing..."

77

Dudley, meanwhile, was counting his presents. His face fell.

"Thirty-six," he said, looking up at his mother and father. "That's two less than last year."

"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mommy and Daddy."

"All right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face.

78

Harry, who could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began wolfing down his bacon as fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over. Aunt Petunia obviously scented danger, too, because she said quickly,

"And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin? Two more presents. Is that all right''

79

Dudley tried to grab the letter to read it, but Uncle Vernon held it high out of his reach. Aunt Petunia took it curiously and read the first line. For a moment it looked as though she might faint. She clutched her throat and made a choking noise."Vernon! Oh my goodness -- Vernon!" <…>

“I want to read it," said Harry furiously, "as it's mine."

80

"Get out, both of you," croaked Uncle Vernon, stuffing the letter back

inside its envelope. Harry didn't move.

“I WANT MY LETTER!" he shouted.

"Let me see it!" demanded Dudley.

"OUT!" roared Uncle Vernon, and he took both Harry and Dudley by the

scruffs of their necks and threw them into the hall, slamming the

kitchen door behind them.

81

"Where's my letter?" said Harry, the moment Uncle Vernon had squeezed through the door. "Who's writing to me?"

"No one. it was addressed to you by mistake," said Uncle Vernon shortly. "I have burned it."

"It was not a mistake," said Harry angrily, "it had my cupboard on it."

"SILENCE!" yelled Uncle Vernon, and a couple of spiders fell from the ceiling.

82

But Uncle Vernon wasn't going to give in without a fight.

"Haven't I told you he's not going?" he hissed. <…>

"If he wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won't stop him," growled

Hagrid. <…>

83

“I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HIM

MAGIC TRICKS!" yelled Uncle Vernon.

But he had finally gone too far. Hagrid seized his umbrella and whirled

it over his head, "NEVER," he thundered, "- INSULT- ALBUS- DUMBLEDOREIN-

FRONT- OF- ME!"

84

"Um -- Hagrid?"

"Mm?" said Hagrid, who was pulling on his huge boots.

"I haven't got any money -- and you heard Uncle Vernon last night ... he won't pay for me to go and learn magic."

"Don't worry about that," said Hagrid, standing up and scratching his head. "D'yeh think yer parents didn't leave yeh anything?"

"But if their house was destroyed --"

85

"That's Hagrid," said Harry, pleased to know something the boy didn't. "He works at Hogwarts."

"Oh," said the boy, "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?"

"He's the gamekeeper," said Harry. He was liking the boy less and less every second.

"Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of savage -- lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed."

"I think he's brilliant," said Harry coldly.

"Do you?" said the boy, with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," said Harry shortly. He didn't feel much like going into the matter with this boy.

"Oh, sorry," said the other, not sounding sorry at all. "But they were our kind, weren't they?"

"They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean."

86

Harry was rather quiet as he ate the ice cream Hagrid had bought him (chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts).

"What's up?" said Hagrid.

"Nothing," Harry lied. <…>

"Blimey, Harry, I keep forgettin' how little yeh know -- not knowin' about Quidditch!"

"Don't make me feel worse," said Harry.

87

"And what are Slytherin and Hufflepuff?"

"School houses. There's four. Everyone says Hufflepuff are a lot o' duffers, but --"

"I bet I'm in Hufflepuff" said Harry gloomily.

88

"Just yer wand left - A yeah, an' I still haven't got yeh a birthday present."

Harry felt himself go red.

"You don't have to --"

89

"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?" said Mr. Ollivander, suddenly stern.

"Er -- yes, they did, yes," said Hagrid, shuffling his feet. "I've still got the pieces, though," he added brightly.

"But you don't use them?" said Mr. Ollivander sharply.

"Oh, no, sit," said Hagrid quickly. Harry noticed he gripped his pink umbrella very tightly as he spoke.

"Hmmm," said Mr. Ollivander, giving Hagrid a piercing look.

90

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather -- just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother why, its brother gave you that scar."

Harry swallowed.

91

"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember.... I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter.... After all, He- Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things -- terrible, yes, but great."

Harry shivered. He wasn't sure he liked Mr. Ollivander too much. He paid seven gold Galleons for his wand, and Mr. Ollivander bowed them from his shop.

92

"Er -- Uncle Vernon?"

Uncle Vernon grunted to show he was listening.

"Er -- I need to be at King's Cross tomorrow to -- to go to Hogwarts."

Uncle Vernon grunted again.

"Would it be all right if you gave me a lift?"

Grunt. Harry supposed that meant yes.

"Thank you."

93

"Excuse me," Harry said to the plump woman.

"Hello, dear," she said. "First time at Hogwarts? Ron's new, too." <…>

"Yes," said Harry. "The thing is -- the thing is, I don't know how to --"

"How to get onto the platform?" she said kindly, and Harry nodded.

94

"Ron, you've got something on your nose."

The youngest boy tried to jerk out of the way, but she grabbed him and began rubbing the end of his nose.