At half past six in the evening, a car drove into Lily Street, trailing exhaust fumes.
Its occupants were, naturally, the Dursley family, who had come to visit.
In the driver's seat, Mr. Dursley held a slip of paper, his foot tapping lightly on the accelerator as he peered around through the windows.
From the back seat, Harry heard his cousin mutter, "Rich people live in a place like this?"
"You're wrong, Dudley," Mr. Dursley said as he searched for their destination. "This is being understated. Besides, a lot of rich people like peace and quiet, and it's very quiet here. To them, living here is a matter of taste... oh... found it!"
"This is the place." Mr. Dursley struggled to "squeeze" out of the car in a peculiar position, trying not to crease the suit he had spent a fortune on, although he looked like a pig in human form wearing it.
"Remember what I said. Be polite. Show them the Dursley family's manners."
"Dudley, you and your mother check each other over. Make sure your bow tie isn't crooked, and smooth your hair down if it's messy."
"And you, Potter boy..."
"I know, Uncle Vernon. I won't say anything," Harry hurriedly said before Mr. Dursley could deliver his warning. Although he couldn't enjoy some freedom on his own, coming out for a feast wasn't a bad alternative. That was all he could tell himself for comfort.
At the door, Mr. Dursley took a deep breath and rubbed his face to make his smile look a little more friendly. Then he nodded to his precious son, Dudley.
Just as Harry began to worry whether the buttons over Dudley's chest might pop off, the door opened, revealing a little girl with two cute pigtails.
"Mrs. Ellison... you..." Following their rehearsed