CHAPTER FOUR
Questions exploded inside Harry’s head like fireworks and he
couldn’t decide which to ask first. After a few minutes he stam-
mered, “What does it mean, they await my owl?”
“Gallopin’ Gorgons, that reminds me,” said Hagrid, clapping a
hand to his forehead with enough force to knock over a cart horse,
and from yet another pocket inside his overcoat he pulled an
owl — a real, live, rather ruffled-looking owl — a long quill, and a
roll of parchment. With his tongue between his teeth he scribbled
a note that Harry could read upside down:
Dear Professor Dumbledore,
Given Harry his letter.
Taking him to buy his things tomorrow.
Weather’s horrible. Hope you’re well.
Hagrid
Hagrid rolled up the note, gave it to the owl, which clamped it in
its beak, went to the door, and threw the owl out into the storm.
Then he came back and sat down as though this was as normal as
talking on the telephone.
Harry realized his mouth was open and closed it quickly.
“Where was I?” said Hagrid, but at that moment, Uncle Vernon,
still ashen-faced but looking very angry, moved into the fire-
light.
“He’s not going,” he said.
Hagrid grunted.
“I’d like ter see a great Muggle like you stop him,” he said.
“A what?” said Harry, interested.
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