Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban Audiobook by Stephen Fry

Uncle Vernon’s small eyes swiveled round to Harry, who was once rooted to the spot.

“there is not any HARRY POTTER here!” he roared, now conserving the receiver at arm’s length, as though worried it would explode. “I don’t know WHAT school YOURE speakme ABOUT! Not ever CONTACT ME again!

Don’t YOU COME close MY household!”

And he threw the receiver back onto the cell as if shedding a toxic spider.

The fight that had adopted had been one of the crucial worst ever.

“HOW DARE YOU provide THIS number TO men and women LIKE ­­ persons like you!” Uncle Vernon had roared, spraying Harry with spit.

Ron obviously realized that he’d gotten Harry into difficulty, because he hadn’t called again. Harry’s other exceptional pal from Hogwarts, Hermione Granger, hadn’t been in contact both. Harry suspected that Ron had warned Hermione not to call, which was once a pity, because Hermione, the cleverest witch in Harry’s yr, had Muggle mother and father, knew perfectly well how one can use a mobile, and would most likely have had adequate sense not to say that she went to Hogwarts.

So Harry had had no word from any of his wizarding pals for five lengthy weeks, and this summer season was once growing to be close to as bad because the last one. There was just one very small growth ­­ after swearing that he would not use her to ship letters to any of his pals, Harry had been allowed to let his owl, Hedwig, out at night. Uncle Vernon had given in for the reason that of the racket Hedwig made if she used to be locked in her cage always.

Harry completed writing about Wendelin the weird and paused to pay attention once more. The silence at nighttime house was broken simplest by the far-off,

grunting snores of his huge cousin, Dudley. It have got to be very late,

Harry notion. His eyes were itching with tiredness. Probably he’d finish this essay the following day night time….

He replaced the top of the ink bottle; pulled an old pillowcase from under his mattress; put the flashlight, A history of Magic, his essay, quill,

and ink inside of it; received away from bed; and hid the lot beneath a loose floorboard under his mattress. Then he stood up, stretched, and checked the time on the luminous alarm clock on his bedside table.

It was one o’clock within the morning. Harry’s stomach gave a funny jolt. He had been thirteen years historic, with out realizing it, for a entire hour.

But an additional amazing thing about Harry was how little he seemed ahead to his birthdays. He had by no means obtained a birthday card in his existence. The Dursleys had absolutely omitted his final two birthdays, and he had no purpose to consider they would consider this one.

Harry walked throughout the dark room, prior Hedwig’s large, empty cage, to the open window. He leaned on the sill, the cool night air first-rate on his face after a very long time below the blankets. Hedwig had been absent for 2 nights now. Harry wasn’t involved about her: she’d been long past this long earlier than. However he hoped she’d be back quickly ­­ she was the one living creature on this apartment who didn’t flinch on the sight of him.

Harry, though still as an alternative small and skinny for his age, had grown just a few inches over the final 12 months. His jet­black hair, nonetheless, used to be simply as it continually had been ­­ stubbornly untidy, anything he did to it. The eyes in the back of his glasses were vibrant inexperienced, and on his forehead, certainly seen by means of his hair, was a thin scar, shaped like a bolt of lightning.

Of all of the exotic things about Harry, this scar used to be the most individual of all. It was once now not, because the Dursleys had pretended for ten years, a memento of the automobile crash that had killed Harry’s mom and dad,

for the reason that Lily and James Potter had not died in a automobile crash. That they had been murdered, murdered by way of probably the most feared darkish wizard for 100 years,

Lord Voldemort. Harry had escaped from the identical assault with nothing more than a scar on his forehead, where Voldemort’s curse, as an alternative of killing him, had rebounded upon its originator. Barely alive, Voldemort had fled….

However Harry had come face­to­face with him at Hogwarts. Remembering their final meeting as he stood at the dark window, Harry had to admit he was once fortunate even to have reached his thirteenth birthday.

He scanned the starry sky for a sign of Hedwig, probably soaring back to him with a dead mouse dangling from her beak, anticipating reward.

Looking at absently over the rooftops, it used to be a few seconds before Harry realized what he was once seeing.

Silhouetted towards the golden moon, and developing larger every moment,

used to be a big, surprisingly lopsided creature, and it used to be flapping in Harry’s direction. He stood rather nonetheless, looking at it sink scale back and curb. For a split 2nd he hesitated, his hand on the window latch, questioning whether or not to slam it shut. But then the weird creature soared over one of the crucial road lamps of Privet power, and Harry, realizing what it was,

leapt aside.

By way of the window soared three owls, two of them protecting up the 1/3,

which gave the impression to be unconscious. They landed with a tender flump on Harry’s bed, and the core owl, which used to be massive and gray, keeled correct over and lay motionless. There used to be a enormous package deal tied to its legs.

Harry well-known the unconscious owl directly ­­ his identify was once Errol, and he belonged to the Weasley household. Harry dashed to the mattress, untied the

cords round Errol’s legs, took off the parcel, and then carried Errol to Hedwig’s cage. Errol opened one bleary eye, gave a feeble hoot of thanks, and began to gulp some water.

Harry became again to the remaining owls. One among them, the significant snowy feminine, used to be his own Hedwig. She, too, was once carrying a parcel and regarded incredibly joyful with herself. She gave Harry an affectionate nip with her beak as he removed her burden, then flew throughout the room to join Errol.

Harry didn’t appreciate the 1/3 owl, a good-looking tawny one, however he knew at once the place it had come from, on the grounds that additionally to a 3rd bundle,

it was carrying a letter bearing the Hogwarts crest. When Harry relieved this owl of its burden, it ruffled its feathers importantly, stretched its wings, and took off by means of the window into the night.

Harry sat down on his mattress and grabbed Errol’s bundle, ripped off the brown paper, and learned a present wrapped in gold, and his first ever birthday card. Fingers trembling fairly, he opened the envelope.

Two pieces of paper fell out ­­ a letter and a newspaper clipping.

The clipping had obviously come out of the wizarding newspaper, the day-to-day Prophet, on account that the humans within the black­and­white photograph were relocating.

Harry picked up the clipping, smoothed it out, and read:

MINISTRY OF MAGIC worker SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts place of business on the Ministry of Magic, has won the annual every day Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw.

A delighted Mr. Weasley told the day-to-day Prophet, “we will be able to be spending the gold on a summer holiday in Egypt, the place our eldest son, bill, works as a curse breaker for Gringotts Wizarding financial institution.”

The Weasley household will likely be spending a month in Egypt, returning for the start of the new university 12 months at Hogwarts, which 5 of the Weasley children currently attend.