Dawn seemed to follow midnight with indecent haste.
To Harry Potter — the boy who lived!
She was on edge, feeling that she might snap or cry at the smallest provocation.
I'll be in my bedroom, making no noise and pretending I'm not there.
Her voice was now so shrill only bats would be able to hear it soon, but she had reached a level of indignation that rendered her temporarily speechless.
Harry, I've left a letter telling your aunt and uncle not to worry--" "They won't," said Harry. "That you're safe--" "That'll just depress them." "--and you'll see them next summer." "Do I have to?