Aunt Petunia’s thin, horsy face now appeared beside Uncle Vernon’s wide, purple one. She looked livid.
‘Why were you lurking under our window?’
‘Yes – yes, good point, Petunia! What were you doing under our window, boy?’
‘Listening to the news,’ said Harry in a resigned voice.
His aunt and uncle exchanged looks of outrage.
‘Listening to the news! Again?’
‘Well, it changes every day, you see,’ said Harry.
‘Don’t you be clever with me, boy! I want to know what you’re really up to – and don’t give me any more of this listening to the news tosh! You know perfectly well that your lot –’
‘Careful, Vernon!’ breathed Aunt Petunia, and Uncle Vernon lowered his voice so that Harry could barely hear him, ‘– that your lot don’t get on our news!’
‘That’s all you know,’ said Harry.
The Dursleys goggled at him for a few seconds, then Aunt Petunia said, ‘You’re a nasty little liar. What are all those –’ she, too, lowered her voice so that Harry had to lip-read the next word, ‘– owls doing if they’re not bringing you news?’
‘Aha!’ said Uncle Vernon in a triumphant whisper. ‘Get out of that one, boy! As if we didn’t know you get all your news from those pestilential birds!’
