THE BURROW
“A bit more,” panted Fred, who was pulling from inside the car.
“One good push —”
Harry and George threw their shoulders against the trunk and it
slid out of the window into the back seat of the car.
“Okay, let’s go,” George whispered.
But as Harry climbed onto the windowsill there came a sudden
loud screech from behind him, followed immediately by the thun-
der of Uncle Vernon’s voice.
“THAT RUDDY OWL!”
“I’ve forgotten Hedwig!”
Harry tore back across the room as the landing light clicked
on — he snatched up Hedwig’s cage, dashed to the window, and
passed it out to Ron. He was scrambling back onto the chest of
drawers when Uncle Vernon hammered on the unlocked door —
and it crashed open.
For a split second, Uncle Vernon stood framed in the doorway;
then he let out a bellow like an angry bull and dived at Harry,
grabbing him by the ankle.
Ron, Fred, and George seized Harry’s arms and pulled as hard as
they could.
“Petunia!” roared Uncle Vernon. “He’s getting away! HE’S
GETTING AWAY!”
But the Weasleys gave a gigantic tug and Harry’s leg slid out of
Uncle Vernon’s grasp — Harry was in the car — he’d slammed the
door shut —
“Put your foot down, Fred!” yelled Ron, and the car shot sud-
denly toward the moon.
Harry couldn’t believe it — he was free. He rolled down the
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