"J. K. Rowling - The Prisoner of Azbakan" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rowling J. K)

large purple fist, "that hanging's the only way to deal with these
people?"

"Very true," said Aunt Petunia, who was still squinting into next door's
runner beans.

Uncle Vernon drained his teacup, glanced at his watch, and added, "I'd
better be off in a minute, Petunia. Marge's train gets in at ten."

Harry, whose thoughts had been upstairs with the Broomstick Servicing
Kit, was brought back to earth with an unpleasant bump.

"Aunt Marge?" he blurted out. "Sh -- she's not coming here, is she?"

Aunt Marge was Uncle Vernon's sister. Even though she was not a blood
relative of Harry's (whose mother had been Aunt Petunia's sister), he
had been forced to call her "Aunt" all his life. Aunt Marge lived in the
country, in a house with a large garden, where she bred bulldogs. She
didn't often stay at Privet Drive, because she couldn't bear to leave
her precious dogs, but each of her visits stood out horribly vividly in
Harry's mind.

At Dudley's fifth birthday party, Aunt Margo had whacked Harry around
the shins with her walking stick to stop him from beating Dudley at
musical statues. A few years later, she had turned up at Christmas with
a computerized robot for Dudley and a box of dog biscuits for Harry. On
her last visit, the year before Harry started at Hogwarts, Harry had
accidentally trodden on the tail of her favorite dog. Ripper had chased
Harry out into the garden and up a tree, and Aunt Marge had refused to
call him off until past midnight. The memory of this incident still
brought tears of laughter to Dudley's eyes.

"Marge'll be here for a week," Uncle Vernon snarled, 11 and while we're
on the subject" -- he pointed a fat finger threateningly at Harry -- "we
need to get a few things straight before I go and collect her."

Dudley smirked and withdrew his gaze from the television. Watching Harry
being bullied by Uncle Vernon was Dudley's favorite form of
entertainment.

"Firstly," growled Uncle Vernon, "you'll keep a civil tongue in your
head when you're talking to Marge."

"All right," said Harry bitterly, "if she does when she's talking to me.

"Secondly," said Uncle Vernon, acting as though he had not heard Harry's
reply, "as Marge doesn't know anything about your abnormality, I don't
want any -- any funny stuff while she's here.

You behave yourself, got me?"