CHAPTER THREE
“ Shake ’ em off . . . shake ’ em off ,” he would mutter whenever he did this .
They didn ’ t stop to eat or drink all day . By nightfall Dudley was howling . He ’ d never had such a bad day in his life . He was hungry , he ’ d missed five television programs he ’ d wanted to see , and he ’ d never gone so long without blowing up an alien on his computer .
Uncle Vernon stopped at last outside a gloomy-looking hotel on the outskirts of a big city . Dudley and Harry shared a room with twin beds and damp , musty sheets . Dudley snored but Harry stayed awake , sitting on the windowsill , staring down at the lights of passing cars and wondering . . . .
They ate stale cornflakes and cold tinned tomatoes on toast for breakfast the next day . They had just finished when the owner of the hotel came over to their table .
“ ’ Scuse me , but is one of you Mr . H . Potter ? Only I got about an ’ undred of these at the front desk .”
She held up a letter so they could read the green ink address :
Mr . H . Potter Room 17 Railview Hotel Cokeworth
Harry made a grab for the letter but Uncle Vernon knocked his hand out of the way . The woman stared .
“ I ’ ll take them ,” said Uncle Vernon , standing up quickly and following her from the dining room .
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