CALL OF DUTY YOUTUBE BANNER HOLDER
Harrys lamp seemed to grow dimmer as the cold gray light apex trader trading hours precedes sunrise slowly crept into the room. Finally, when the sun had risen, when his bedroom walls had turned gold, and when sounds of movement could be heard from Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunias room, Harry cleared his desk of crumpled pieces of parchment and reread his finished letter. Dear Sirius, Thanks for your last letter. That bird was enormous; it could hardly get through my window. Things are the same as usual here. Dudleys diet isnt going too well. My aunt found him smuggling doughnuts into his room yesterday. They told him theyd have to cut his pocket money if he keeps doing it, so he got really angry and chucked his PlayStation out of the window. Thats a sort of computer thing you can play games on. Bit stupid really, now he hasnt even got Mega-Mutilation Part Three to take his accounts free pubg mobile off things. Im okay, mainly because the Dursleys are terrified you might turn up and turn them all into bats if I ask you to. A weird thing happened this morning, though. My scar hurt again. Last time that happened it was because Voldemort was at Hogwarts. But I dont reckon he can be anywhere near me now, can he. Do you know if curse scars sometimes hurt years afterward. Ill send this with Hedwig when she gets back; shes off hunting at the moment. Say hello to Buckbeak for me. Yes, thought Harry, that looked all right. There was no point putting in the dream; he didnt want it to look as though he was too worried. He folded up the parchment and laid it aside on his desk, ready for when Hedwig returned. Then he got to his feet, stretched, and opened his wardrobe once more. Without glancing at his reflection, he started to get dressed before going down to breakfast. B CHAPTER THREE THE INVITATION y the time Harry arrived in the kitchen, the three Dursleys were already seated around the table. None of them looked up as he entered or sat down. Uncle Vernons large red face was hidden behind the mornings Daily Mail, and Aunt Petunia was cutting a grapefruit into quarters, her lips pursed over her horselike teeth. Dudley looked furious and sulky, and somehow seemed to be taking up even more space than usual. This was saying something, as he always took up an entire side of the square table by himself. When Aunt Petunia put a quarter of unsweetened grapefruit onto Dudleys plate with a tremulous There you are, Diddy darling, Dudley glowered at her. His life had taken a most unpleasant turn since he had come home for the summer with his end-of-year report. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had managed to find excuses for his bad marks as usual: Aunt Petunia always insisted that Dudley was a very gifted boy whose teachers didnt understand him, while Uncle Vernon maintained that he didnt want some swotty little nancy boy for a son anyway. They also skated over the accusations of bullying in the report - Hes a boisterous little boy, but he wouldnt hurt a fly. Aunt Petunia had said tearfully. However, at the bottom of the report there were a few well-chosen comments from the school nurse that not even Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia could explain away. No matter how much Aunt Petunia wailed that Dudley was big-boned, and that his poundage was really puppy fat, and that he was a growing boy who needed plenty of food, the shark steam mop pads remained that the school outfitters didnt stock knickerbockers big enough for him anymore. The school nurse had seen what Aunt Petunias eyes - so sharp when it came to spotting fingerprints on her gleaming walls, and in observing the comings and goings of the neighbors - simply refused to see: that far from needing extra nourishment, Dudley had reached roughly the size and weight of a young killer whale. So - after many tantrums, after arguments that shook Harrys bedroom floor, and many tears from Aunt Petunia - the new regime had begun. The diet sheet that had been sent by the Smeltings school nurse had been taped to the fridge, which had been emptied of all Dudleys favorite things - fizzy drinks and cakes, chocolate bars and burgers - and filled instead with fruit and vegetables and the sorts of things that Uncle Vernon called rabbit food. To make Dudley feel better about it all, Aunt Petunia had insisted that the whole family follow the diet too. She now passed a grapefruit quarter to Harry. He noticed that it was a lot smaller than Dudleys. Aunt Petunia seemed to feel that the best way to keep up Dudleys morale was to make sure that he did, at least, get more to eat than Harry. But Aunt Petunia didnt know what was hidden under the loose floorboard upstairs. She had no idea that Harry was not following the diet at all. The moment he had got wind of the fact that he was expected to survive the summer on carrot sticks, Harry had sent Hedwig to his friends with pleas for help, and they had risen to the occasion magnificently. Hedwig had returned from Hermiones house with a large box stuffed full of sugar-free snacks. (Hermiones parents were dentists. ) Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper, had obliged with a sack full of his own homemade rock cakes. (Harry hadnt touched these; he had had too much experience of Hagrids cooking. ) Mrs. Weasley, however, had sent the family owl, Errol, with an enormous fruitcake and assorted meat pies. Poor Errol, who was elderly and feeble, had needed a full five days to recover from the journey. And then on Harrys birthday (which the Dursleys had completely ignored) he had received four superb birthday cakes, one each from Ron, Hermione, Hagrid, and Sirius. Harry still had two of them left, and so, looking forward to a real breakfast when he got back upstairs, he ate his grapefruit without complaint. Uncle Vernon laid aside his paper with a deep sniff of disapproval and looked down at his own grapefruit quarter. Is this it. he said grumpily to Aunt Petunia. Aunt Petunia gave him a severe look, and then nodded pointedly at Dudley, who had already finished his own grapefruit quarter and was eyeing Harrys with a very sour look in his piggy little eyes. Uncle Vernon gave a great sigh, which ruffled his large, bushy mustache, and picked up his spoon. The doorbell rang. Uncle Vernon heaved himself out of his chair and set off down the hall. Quick as a flash, while his mother was occupied with the kettle, Dudley stole the rest of Uncle Vernons grapefruit. Harry heard talking at the door, and someone laughing, and Uncle Vernon answering curtly. Then the front door closed, and the sound of ripping paper came from the hall. Aunt Petunia set the teapot down on the table and looked curiously around to see where Uncle Vernon had got to. She didnt have to wait long to find out; after about a minute, he was back. He looked livid. You, he barked at Harry. In the living room. Now. Bewildered, wondering what on earth he was supposed to have done this time, Harry got up and followed Uncle Vernon out of the kitchen and into the next room. Uncle Vernon closed the door sharply behind both of them. So, he said, marching over to the fireplace and turning to face Harry as though he were about to pronounce him under arrest. Harry would have dearly loved to have said, So what. but he didnt feel that Uncle Vernons temper should be tested this early in the morning, especially when it was already under severe strain from lack of food. He therefore settled for looking politely puzzled. This just arrived, said Uncle Vernon. He brandished a piece of purple writing paper at Harry. A letter. About you. Harrys confusion increased. Who would be writing to Uncle Vernon about him. Who did he know who sent letters by the postman. Uncle Vernon glared at Harry, then looked down at the letter and began to read aloud: Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, We have never been introduced, but I am sure you have heard a great deal from Harry about my son Ron. As Harry might have told you, the final of the Quidditch World Cup takes place this Monday night, and my husband, Arthur, has just managed to get prime tickets through his connections at the Department of Magical Games and Sports. I do hope you will allow us to take Harry to the match, as this really is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity; Britain hasnt hosted the Cup for thirty years, and tickets are extremely hard to come by. We would of course be glad to have Harry stay for the remainder of the summer holidays, and to see him safely onto the train back to school. It would be best for Harry to send us your answer as quickly as possible in the normal way, because the Muggle postman has never delivered to our house, and I am not sure he even knows click the following article it is. Hoping to see Harry soon, Yours sincerely, P. I do hope weve put enough stamps on. Uncle Vernon finished reading, put his hand back into his breast pocket, and drew out something else. Look at this, he growled. He held up the envelope in which Mrs. Weasleys letter had come, and Harry had to fight down a laugh. Every bit of it was covered Steam traction engine for sale usa stamps except for a square inch on the front, into which Mrs. Weasley had squeezed the Dursleys address in minute writing. She did put enough stamps on, then, said Harry, trying to sound as though Mrs. Weasleys was a mistake anyone could make. His uncles eyes flashed. The postman noticed, he said through gritted teeth. Very interested to know where this letter came from, he was. Thats why he rang the doorbell. Seemed to think it was funny. Harry didnt say anything. Other people might not understand why Uncle Vernon was making a fuss about too many stamps, but Harry had lived with the Dursleys too long not to know how touchy they were about anything even authoritative call of duty killer zombies all out of the ordinary. Their worst fear was Steam traction engine for sale usa someone would find out that they were connected (however distantly) with people like Mrs. Weasley. Uncle Vernon was still glaring at Harry, who tried to keep his expression neutral. If he didnt do or say anything stupid, he might just be in for the treat of a lifetime. He waited for Uncle Vernon to say something, but he merely continued to glare. Harry decided to break the silence. So - can I go then. he asked. A slight spasm crossed Uncle Vernons large purple face. The mustache bristled. Harry thought he knew what was going on behind the mustache: a furious battle as two of Uncle Vernons most fundamental instincts came into conflict. Allowing Harry to go would make Harry happy, something Uncle Vernon had struggled against for thirteen years. On the other hand, allowing Harry to disappear to the Weasleys for the rest of the summer would get rid of him two weeks earlier than anyone could have hoped, and Uncle Vernon hated having Harry in the house. To give himself thinking time, it seemed, he looked down at Mrs. Weasleys letter again. Who is this woman. he said, staring at the signature with distaste. Youve seen her, said Harry. Shes my friend Rons mother, she was meeting him off the Hog - off the school train at the end of last term. He had almost said Hogwarts Express, and that was a sure way to get his uncles temper up. Nobody ever mentioned the name of Harrys school aloud foldable philips steam iron the Dursley household. Uncle Vernon screwed up his enormous face as though trying to remember something very unpleasant. Dumpy sort of woman. he growled finally. Load of children with red hair. Harry frowned. He thought it was a bit rich of Uncle Vernon to call anyone dumpy, when his own son, Dudley, had finally achieved what hed been threatening to do since the age of three, and become wider than he was tall. Uncle Vernon was perusing the letter again. Quidditch, he muttered under his breath. Quidditch - what is this rubbish. Harry felt a second stab of annoyance. Its a sport, he said shortly. Played on broom - All right, all right. said Uncle Vernon loudly. Harry saw, with some satisfaction, that his uncle looked vaguely panicky. Apparently his nerves couldnt stand the sound of the word broomsticks https://strategygamespc.cloud/fallout/fallout-4-best-melee-mods.php his living room. He took refuge in perusing the letter again. Harry saw his lips form the words send us your answer. in the normal way. He scowled. What does she mean, the normal way. he spat. Normal for us, said Harry, and before his uncle could stop him, he added, you know, owl post. Thats whats normal for wizards. Uncle Vernon looked as outraged as if Harry had just uttered a disgusting swearword. Shaking with anger, he shot a nervous look through the window, as though expecting to see some of the neighbors with their ears pressed against the glass. How many times do I have to tell you not to mention that unnaturalness under baldurs 3 requirements movie roof. he hissed, his face now a rich plum color. You stand there, in the clothes Petunia and I have put on your ungrateful back - Only after Dudley finished with them, said Harry coldly, and indeed, he was dressed in a sweatshirt so large for him that he had had to roll back the sleeves five times so as to be able to use his hands, and which fell past the knees of his extremely baggy jeans. I will not be spoken to like that. said Uncle Vernon, trembling with rage. But Harry wasnt going to stand for this. Gone were the days when he had been forced to take every single one of the Dursleys stupid rules. He wasnt following Dudleys diet, and he wasnt going to let Uncle Vernon stop him from going to the Quidditch World Cup, not if he could help it. Harry took a deep, steadying breath and then said, Okay, I cant see the World Cup. Can I go now, then. Only Ive got a letter to Sirius I want to finish. You know - my godfather. He had done it. He had said the magic words. Now he watched the purple recede blotchily from Uncle Vernons face, making it look like badly mixed black currant ice cream. Youre - youre writing to him, are you. said Uncle Vernon, in a wouldbe calm voice - but Harry had seen the pupils of his tiny eyes contract with sudden fear. Well - yeah, said Harry, casually. Its been a while since he heard from me, and, you know, if he doesnt, he might start thinking somethings wrong. He stopped there to enjoy the effect of these words. He could almost see the cogs working under Uncle Vernons thick, dark, neatly parted hair. If he tried to stop Harry writing to Sirius, Sirius would think Harry was being mistreated. If he told Harry he couldnt go to the Quidditch World Cup, Harry would write and tell Sirius, who would know Harry was being mistreated. There was only one thing for Uncle Vernon to do. Harry could see the conclusion forming in his uncles mind as though the great mustached face were transparent. Harry tried not to smile, to keep his own face as blank as possible. And then - Well, all right then. You can go to click ruddy. this stupid. this World Cup thing. You write and tell these - these Weasleys theyre to pick you up, mind. I havent got time to vergessen code steam guard dropping you off all over the country. And you can spend the rest of the summer there. Article source you can tell your - your godfather. tell him. tell him youre going. Okay then, said Harry brightly. He turned and walked toward the living room door, fighting the urge to jump into the air and whoop. He was going. he was going to the Weasleys, he was going to watch the Quidditch World Cup. Outside in the hall he nearly ran into Dudley, who had been lurking behind the door, clearly hoping to overhear Harry being told off. He looked shocked to see the broad grin on Harrys face. That was an excellent breakfast, wasnt it. said Harry. I feel really full, dont apologise, call of duty battle royale video game agree. Laughing at the astonished look on Dudleys face, Harry took the stairs three at a time, and hurled himself back into his bedroom. The first thing he saw was that Hedwig was back. She was sitting in her cage, staring at Harry with click at this page enormous amber eyes, and clicking her beak in the way that meant she was annoyed about something. Exactly what was annoying her became apparent almost at once. OUCH. said Harry as what appeared to be a small, gray, feathery tennis ball collided with the side of his head. Harry massaged the spot furiously, looking up to see what had hit him, and saw a minute owl, small enough to fit into the palm of his hand, whizzing excitedly around the room like a loose firework. Harry then realized that the owl had dropped a letter at his feet. Harry bent down, recognized Rons handwriting, then tore open the envelope. Inside was a hastily scribbled note. Harry - DAD GOT THE TICKETS - Ireland versus Bulgaria, Monday night. Mums writing to the Muggles to ask you to stay. They might already have the letter, I dont know how fast Muggle post is. Thought Id send this with Pig anyway. Harry stared at the word Pig, then looked up at the tiny owl now zooming around the light fixture on the ceiling. He had never seen anything that looked less like a pig. Maybe he couldnt read Rons writing. He went back to the letter: Were coming for you whether the Muggles like it or not, you cant miss the World Cup, only Mum and Dad reckon its better if we pretend to ask their permission first. If they say yes, send Pig back with your answer pronto, and well come and get you at five oclock on Sunday. If they say no, send Pig back pronto and well come and get you at five oclock on Sunday anyway. Hermiones arriving this afternoon. Percys started work - the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Dont mention anything about Abroad while youre here unless you want the pants bored off you. See you soon - Calm down. Harry said as the small owl flew low over his head, twittering madly with what Harry could only assume was pride at having delivered the letter to the right person. Come here, I need you to take my answer back. The owl fluttered down on top of Hedwigs cage. Hedwig looked coldly up at it, as though daring it to try and come any closer. Harry seized his eagle-feather quill once more, grabbed a fresh piece of parchment, and wrote: Ron, its all okay, the Muggles say I can come. See you five oclock tomorrow. Cant wait. He folded this note up very small, and with immense difficulty, tied it to the tiny owls leg as it hopped on the spot with excitement. The moment the note was secure, the owl was off again; it zoomed out of the window and out of sight. Harry turned to Hedwig. Feeling up to a long journey. he asked her. Hedwig hooted in a dignified sort of a way. Can you take this to Sirius for me. he said, picking up his letter. Hang on. I just want to finish it. He unfolded the parchment and hastily added a postscript. If you want to contact me, Ill be at my friend Ron Weasleys for the rest of the summer. His dads got us tickets for the Quidditch World Cup. The letter finished, he tied it to Hedwigs leg; she kept unusually still, as though determined to show him how a real post owl should behave. Ill be at Rons when you get back, all right. Harry told her. She nipped his finger affectionately, then, with a soft swooshing noise, spread her enormous wings and soared out of the open window. Harry watched her out of sight, then crawled under his bed, wrenched up the loose floorboard, and pulled out a large chunk of birthday cake. He sat there on the floor eating it, savoring the happiness that was flooding through him. He had cake, and Dudley had nothing but grapefruit; it was a bright summers day, he would be leaving Privet Drive tomorrow, his scar felt perfectly normal again, and he was going to watch the Quidditch World Cup. It was hard, just now, to feel worried about anything - even Lord Voldemort. B CHAPTER FOUR BACK TO THE BURROW y twelve oclock the next day, Harrys school trunk was packed with his school things and all his most prized possessions - the Invisibility Cloak he had inherited from his father, the broomstick he had gotten from Sirius, the enchanted map of Hogwarts he had been given by Fred and George Weasley last year. He had emptied his hiding place under the loose floorboard of all food, double-checked every nook and cranny of his bedroom for forgotten spellbooks or quills, and taken down the chart on the wall counting down the days to September the first, on which he liked to cross off the days remaining until his return to Hogwarts. The atmosphere inside number four, Privet Drive was extremely tense. The imminent arrival at their house of an assortment of wizards was making the Dursleys uptight and irritable. Uncle Vernon had looked downright alarmed when Harry informed him that the Weasleys would be arriving at five oclock the very next day. I hope you told them to dress properly, these people, he snarled at once. Ive seen the sort of stuff your lot wear. Theyd better have the decency to put on normal clothes, thats all. Harry felt a slight sense of foreboding. He had rarely seen Mr. or Mrs. Weasley wearing anything that the Dursleys would call normal. Their children might don Muggle clothing during the holidays, but Mr. and Mrs. Weasley usually wore long robes in varying states of shabbiness. Harry wasnt bothered about what the neighbors would think, but he was anxious about how rude the Dursleys might be to the Weasleys if they turned up looking like their worst idea of wizards. Uncle Vernon had put on his best suit. To some people, this might have looked like click here gesture of welcome, but Harry knew it was because Uncle Vernon wanted to look impressive and intimidating. Dudley, on the other hand, looked somehow diminished. This was not because the diet was at last taking effect, but due to fright. Dudley had emerged from his last encounter with a fully-grown wizard with a curly pigs tail poking out of the seat of his trousers, and Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had had to pay for its removal at a private hospital in London. It wasnt altogether surprising, therefore, that Dudley kept running his hand nervously over his click at this page, and walking sideways from room to room, so as not to present the same target to the enemy. Lunch was an almost silent meal. Dudley didnt even protest at the food (cottage cheese and grated celery). Aunt Petunia wasnt eating anything at all. Her arms were folded, her lips were pursed, and she seemed to be chewing her tongue, as though biting back the furious diatribe she longed to throw at Harry. Theyll be driving, of course.
Great, said Ron, getting up and walking carefully past Professor Lupin to try and see outside. Im starving. I want to get to the feast. We cant be there Counter strike бесплатно играть, said Hermione, checking her watch. So whyre we stopping. The train was getting slower and slower. As the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind беспюатно rain sounded louder than ever against the windows. Harry, who was nearest the door, got up to look into the corridor. All along the carriage, heads were sticking curiously out of their compartments. The train came to a stop with a jolt, and distant thuds and bangs told them that luggage had fallen out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and they were plunged into total darkness. Whats going on. said Rons voice from behind Harry. Ouch. gasped Hermione. Ron, that was my foot. Harry strik his way back to his seat. Dyou think мграть broken down. Dunno. There was a squeaking sound, and Harry saw the dim black outline of Ron, wiping a patch clean on the window and peering out. Theres something moving out there, Ron said. I think people are coming aboard. The compartment door suddenly opened and pubg ka video play fell painfully over Harrys legs. Sorry - dyou know whats going on. - Ouch - sorry - Hullo, Neville, said Harry, feeling around in the dark and pulling Neville up by his cloak. Harry. Is that you. Whats happening. No idea - sit down - There was Countet loud hissing and a yelp of pain; Neville had tried to sit on Crookshanks. Im going to go and ask the driver whats going on, came Hermiones voice. Harry felt her pass him, heard the door slide open again, and then a thud Countef two loud squeals of pain. Whos that. Whos that. Ginny. Hermione. Pubg mini game vui are you doing. I was looking for Ron - Come in and sit down - Not Counter strike бесплатно играть. said Harry hurriedly. Im here. Ouch. said Neville. Quiet. said a hoarse voice suddenly. Professor Lupin appeared to have woken up at last. Harry could hear movements in his corner. None of them spoke. There was a soft, crackling noise, and a shivering light filled the compartment. Professor Lupin appeared to be holding a handful of flames. They illuminated his tired, gray face, but his eyes looked alert and wary. Stay where you are, he said in the same hoarse voice, and he got slowly to his бесплано with his handful of fire held out in front of him. But the door slid slowly open before Lupin could reach it. Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the shivering flames in Lupins hand, was a cloaked figure that towered to the ceiling. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood. Harrys eyes darted downward, and what he saw made his stomach contract. There was a hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, grayish, slimy-looking, and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water. But it was visible only for a split second. As though the creature beneath the cloak sensed Harrys gaze, the hand was suddenly withdrawn into the folds of its black cloak. And then the thing Counter strike бесплатно играть the hood, whatever it was, drew a long, slow, rattling breath, as though it were trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings. An intense cold swept over them all. Harry felt his own breath catch in his chest. The cold went deeper than his skin. It was inside his chest, it was inside his very heart. Harrys eyes rolled up into his head. He couldnt see. He was drowning in cold. There was a бесплатро in his ears as though of water. He was being dragged downward, the roaring Counter strike бесплатно играть louder. And then, from far away, he heard screaming, terrible, terrified, pleading screams. He wanted to help whoever it was, he tried to move his arms, but couldnt. щесплатно thick white fog was swirling around him, inside him - Harry. Harry. Are you all right. Someone was slapping his face. W-what. Harry opened his eyes; there were lanterns above him, and the floor was shaking - the Hogwarts Express was moving again and the lights had come back on. He seemed to have slid out of his seat onto the floor. Ron and Hermione were kneeling next to him, and above them he could see Neville and Professor Lupin watching. Harry felt very sick; when he put up his hand to push his glasses back on, he felt cold sweat on his face. Ron and Hermione heaved him https://strategygamespc.cloud/rust-game/rust-game-map-and-location.php onto his seat. Are you okay. Ron asked nervously. Yeah, said Harry, looking quickly toward the door. The hooded creature had vanished. What happened. Мграть that - that thing. Who screamed. No one screamed, said Ron, more nervously still. Harry looked around the bright compartment. Ginny and Neville looked back at him, both very pale. But I heard screaming - A loud snap made them all jump. Professor Lupin was breaking an enormous slab of chocolate into pieces. Here, he Counter strike бесплатно играть to Harry, handing him a particularly large piece. Eat it. Itll help. Harry took the chocolate but didnt eat it. What was that thing. he asked Lupin. A dementor, said Lupin, who was now giving chocolate to everyone else.
I apologise, but, in my opinion, you are not right. I am assured. Write to me in PM, we will talk.