In June, the heat in Surrey softened the asphalt roads.
The boxwood hedges lining Privet Drive maintained a despairingly perfect neatness even in the drought, as though any leaf that dared grow out of line would be trimmed off by the neighbors' gossip.
A brand-new Vauxhall rolled slowly into the driveway, the crunch of its tires over gravel breaking the afternoon stillness.
The air conditioning inside the car was turned up high, making it a little cold.
"We're here, boy. Don't dawdle. You know the rules. Don't let the neighbors see that damned bird of yours doing anything abnormal."
Vernon Dursley switched off the engine. His broad face had an oily, ruddy glow, and he actually seemed to be in an unusually good mood.
Harry Potter carried Hedwig's cage as he struggled out of the back seat.
He glanced at the new car. The smell of the leather seats had yet to fade, and there was even an unopened box of expensive cigars on the center console.
Harry recognized them immediately. They were the same cigars Sirius kept on his desk.
It was hard to imagine Uncle Dursley smoking the same cigars as Sirius.
"Hurry up! Don't stand there gawking like some... some country bumpkin... never mind."
Uncle Vernon seemed about to say something nasty, but swallowed the words just as they reached his lips, turning them into a grunt.
Harry raised an eyebrow. Insults abandoned halfway through were a rare occurrence in the Dursley family.
Just then, the front door opened.
Aunt Petunia stood in the doorway, her long neck stretching out like a periscope as she scanned the street warily. Only after making sure none of the neighbors were spying did she beckon to Vernon.
"Vernon! Come inside, quickly!"
Her voice was hushed, and she clutched a thick