ght sped back to their street lamps so that

Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby

cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He

could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.

"Good luck, Harry," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with

a swish of his cloak, he was gone.

A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay

silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would

expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over

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