DAB MAT

There was a horrible smell in the kitchen the next morning when Harrywent in for breakfast. It seemed to be coming from a large metal tub inthe sink. He went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked likedirty rags swimming in gray water.

“What’s this?” he asked Aunt Petunia. Her lips tightened as they alwaysdid if he dared to ask a question.

“Your new school uniform,” she said.

Harry looked in the bowl again.

“Oh,” he said, “I didn’t realize it had to be so wet.”

“DotA be stupid,” snapped Aunt Petunia. “I’m dyeing some of Dudley’s oldthings gray for you. It’ll look just like everyone else’s when I’vefinished.”

Harry seriously doubted this, but thought it best not to argue. He satdown at the table and tried not to think about how he was going to lookon his first day at Stonewall High — like he was wearing bits of oldelephant skin, probably.

Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses because of thesmell from Harry’s new uniform. Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper asusual and Dudley banged his Smelting stick, which he carried everywhere,on the table.

They heard the click of the mail slot and flop of letters on thedoormat.

“Get the mail, Dudley,” said Uncle Vernon from behind his paper.

“Make Harry get it.”

“Get the mail, Harry.”

“Make Dudley get it.”

“Poke him with your Smelting stick, Dudley.”

Harry dodged the Smelting stick and went to get the mail. Three thingslay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon’s sister Marge, who wasvacationing on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like abill, and — a letter for Harry.

Harry picked it up and stared at it, his heart twanging like a giantelastic band. No one, ever, in his whole life, had written to him. Whowould? He had no friends, no other relatives — he didn’t belong to thelibrary, so he’d never even got rude notes asking for books back. Yethere it was, a letter, addressed so plainly there could be no mistake:

Mr. H. Potter

The Cupboard under the Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and theaddress was written in emerald-green ink. There was no stamp.

Turning the envelope over, his hand trembling, Harry saw a purple waxseal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snakesurrounding a large letter H.

“Hurry up, boy!” shouted Uncle Vernon from the kitchen. “What are youdoing, checking for letter bombs?” He chuckled at his own joke.

Harry went back to the kitchen, still staring at his letter. He handedUncle Vernon the bill and the postcard, sat down, and slowly began toopen the yellow envelope.

Uncle Vernon ripped open the bill, snorted in disgust, and flipped overthe postcard.

“Marge’s ill,” he informed Aunt Petunia. “Ate a funny whelk. –.”

“Dad!” said Dudley suddenly. “Dad, Harry’s got something!”

Harry was on the point of unfolding his letter, which was written on thesame heavy parchment as the envelope, when it was jerked sharply out ofhis hand by Uncle Vernon.

“That’s mine!” said Harry, trying to snatch it back.

“Who’d be writing to you?” sneered Uncle Vernon, shaking the letter openwith one hand and glancing at it. His face went from red to green fasterthan a set of traffic lights. And it didn’t stop there. Within secondsit was the grayish white of old porridge.

“P-P-Petunia!” he gasped.

Dudley tried to grab the letter to read it, but Uncle Vernon held ithigh out of his reach. Aunt Petunia took it curiously and read the firstline. For a moment it looked as though she might faint. She clutched herthroat and made a choking noise.

“Vernon! Oh my goodness — Vernon!”

They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten that Harry andDudley were still in the room. Dudley wasn’t used to being ignored. Hegave his father a sharp tap on the head with his Smelting stick.

“I want to read that letter,” he said loudly. want to read it,” saidHarry furiously, “as it’s mine.”

“Get out, both of you,” croaked Uncle Vernon, stuffing the letter backinside 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 thescruffs of their necks and threw them into the hall, slamming thekitchen door behind them. Harry and Dudley promptly had a furious butsilent fight over who would listen at the keyhole; Dudley won, so Harry,his glasses dangling from one ear, lay flat on his stomach to listen atthe crack between door and floor.