"In the car crash when your parents died," she had said. "And don't ask

questions."

 

Don't ask questions -- that was the first rule for a quiet life with the

Dursleys.

 

Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon.

 

"Comb your hair!" he barked, by way of a morning greeting.

 

About once a week, Uncle Vernon looked over the top of his newspaper and shouted

that Harry needed a haircut. Harry must have had more haircuts than the rest of

the boys in his class put together, but it made no difference, his hair simply

grew that way -- all over the place.

 

Harry was frying eggs by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother.

Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, not much neck,

small, watery blue eyes, and thick blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick,

fat head. Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel -- Harry

often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig.

 

Harry put the plates of egg and bacon on the table, which was difficult as there

wasn't much room. Dudley, meanwhile, was counting his presents.

 

His face fell.