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- Джоан Роулинг
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- Гарри Поттер и Орден Феникса
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- Стр. 2/965
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The
Dursleys
fell
silent
.
Harry
listened
to
a
jingle
about
Fruit
'n'
Bran
breakfast
cereal
while
he
watched
Mrs.
Figg
,
a
batty
cat-loving
old
lady
from
nearby
Wisteria
Walk
,
amble
slowly
past
.
She
was
frowning
and
muttering
to
herself
.
Harry
was
very
pleased
he
was
concealed
behind
the
bush
,
as
Mrs.
Figg
had
recently
taken
to
asking
him
round
for
tea
whenever
she
met
him
in
the
street
.
She
had
rounded
the
corner
and
vanished
from
view
before
Uncle
Vernon
's
voice
floated
out
of
the
window
again
.
'D
udders
out
for
tea
?
'
'
At
the
Polkisses
'
,
'
said
Aunt
Petunia
fondly
.
'
He
's
got
so
many
little
friends
,
he
's
so
popular
...
'
Harry
suppressed
a
snort
with
difficulty
.
The
Dursleys
really
were
astonishingly
stupid
about
their
son
,
Dudley
.
They
had
swallowed
all
his
dim-witted
lies
about
having
tea
with
a
different
member
of
his
gang
every
night
of
the
summer
holidays
.
Harry
knew
perfectly
well
that
Dudley
had
not
been
to
tea
anywhere
;
he
and
his
gang
spent
every
evening
vandalising
the
play
park
,
smoking
on
street
corners
and
throwing
stones
at
passing
cars
and
children
.
Harry
had
seen
them
at
it
during
his
evening
walks
around
Little
Whinging
;
he
had
spent
most
of
the
holidays
wandering
the
streets
,
scavenging
newspapers
from
bins
along
the
way
.
The
opening
notes
of
the
music
that
heralded
the
seven
o'clock
news
reached
Harry
's
ears
and
his
stomach
turned
over
.
Perhaps
tonight
--
after
a
month
of
waiting
--
would
be
the
night
.
'Re
cord
numbers
of
stranded
holidaymakers
fill
airports
as
the
Spanish
baggage-handlers
'
strike
reaches
its
second
week
--
'
'
Give
'em
a
lifelong
siesta
,
I
would
,
'
snarled
Uncle
Vernon
over
the
end
of
the
newsreader
's
sentence
,
but
no
matter
:
outside
in
the
flowerbed
,
Harry
's
stomach
seemed
to
unclench
.
If
anything
had
happened
,
it
would
surely
have
been
the
first
item
on
the
news
;
death
and
destruction
were
more
important
than
stranded
holidaymakers
.
He
let
out
a
long
,
slow
breath
and
stared
up
at
the
brilliant
blue
sky
.
Every
day
this
summer
had
been
the
same
:
the
tension
,
the
expectation
,
the
temporary
relief
,
and
then
mounting
tension
again
...
and
always
,
growing
more
insistent
all
the
time
,
the
question
of
why
nothing
had
happened
yet
...
.
He
kept
listening
,
just
in
case
there
was
some
small
clue
,
not
recognised
for
what
it
really
was
by
the
Muggles
--
an
unexplained
disappearance
,
perhaps
,
or
some
strange
accident
...
but
the
baggage-handlers
'
strike
was
followed
by
news
about
the
drought
in
the
Southeast
(
'
I
hope
he
's
listening
next
door
!
'
bellowed
Uncle
Vernon
.
'
Him
with
his
sprinklers
on
at
three
in
the
morning
!
'
)
,
then
a
helicopter
that
had
almost
crashed
in
a
field
in
Surrey
,
then
a
famous
actress
's
divorce
from
her
famous
husband
(
'
As
if
we
're
interested
in
their
sordid
affairs
,
'
sniffed
Aunt
Petunia
,
who
had
followed
the
case
obsessively
in
every
magazine
she
could
lay
her
bony
hands
on
)
.
Harry
closed
his
eyes
against
the
now
blazing
evening
sky
as
the
newsreader
said
,
'
--
and
finally
,
Bungy
the
budgie
has
found
a
novel
way
of
keeping
cool
this
summer
.
Bungy
,
who
lives
at
the
Five
Feathers
in
Barnsley
,
has
learned
to
water
ski
!
Mary
Dorkins
went
to
find
out
more
.
'
