Uncle Vernon didn’t go to work that day. He stayed at home and nailed the door shut so Harry couldn’t get out. He also nailed the mail slot. “See,” he explained to Aunt Petunia through a mouthful of nails. “If they can’t deliver them they’ll just give up.” “I’m not sure that will work Vernon.” “Oh, there people’s minds work in strange ways, Petunia, they’re not like you and me.” said Uncle Vernon trying to knock in a nail with the piece of fruitcake Aunt Petunia had just brought him. On Friday, no less than twenty letters arrived for Harry. As they couldn’t go through the door or mail slot they were forced through windows, and one was hidden in Uncle Vernon’s morning paper. Uncle Vernon stayed home again. After burning all the letters, he got out a hammer and nails and boarded up the cracks around the windows. He hummed “Tiptoe Through the Tulips” as he worked, jumping at any noise.
On Saturday, things began to get out of hand. Thirty-four letters to Harry found their way into the house, rolled up and hidden inside three dozen that their very confused milkman had handed to Aunt Petunia. While Uncle Vernon made furious telephone calls to the post office and the dairy trying to find someone to complain to, Aunt Petunia shredded the letters in her food processor. “Who on earth wants to talk to you this badly?” Dudley asked Harry in amazement. On Sunday morning Uncle Vernon sat down at the breakfast table looking tired and ill but happy. “No post on Sundays,” he reminded them cheerfully as he spread marmalade on his newspapers, “no damn letters today-“
Something came whizzing down the kitchen chimney and caught Uncle Vernon sharply in the back of the head. Next second, fifty or sixty letters came pelting out of the fireplace like bullets. The Dursleys ducked, but Harry leapt into the air trying to catch one- “Out! OUT!” Uncle Vernon sized Harry around the waist and threw him into the hall. When Aunt Petunia and Dudley had run out with their arms over their faces, Uncle Vernon slammed the door shut. Harry opened the door and peeked inside to see Uncle Vernon running around like a mad man before Aunt Petunia grabbed him by the collar and pulled him back, slamming the door as she did so.
“No.” she snapped. “You aren’t going in there.” Harry shoved her off and snapped right back. “I wasn’t going to.” Aunt Petunia’s lips thinned but before she could speak Uncle Vernon came back out. “That does it,” said Uncle Vernon, trying to speak calmly but pulling fistfuls of his mustache at the same time. “I want you all back here in five minutes ready to leave. We’re going away. Just pack some clothes. No arguments!” Harry wanted to shout at him but he looked so dangerous with half his mustache missing that no one dared argue. Then minutes later they had wrenched their way through the boarded-up doors and were in the car, speeding toward the highway. Dudley was sniffling in the back seat; his father had hit him round the head for holding them up while he tried to pack his television, VCR, and computer in his sports bag. They drove. And they drove. Even Aunt Petunia didn’t dare ask where they were going. Every now and then Uncle Vernon would take a sharp turn and drive in the opposite direction for a while.
“Shake ‘em off… shake ‘em off.” he would mutter everytime he said this, and Harry would say he was going mad if he didn’t know Uncle Vernon already was mad. They didn’t stop to eat or drink all day and by nightfall Dudley was howling. He’d never had such a bad day in his life. He was hungry, he’d missed five television programs he’d wanted to see and he’d never gone so long without blowing up an alien on his computer. Uncle Vernon stopped at last outside a gloomy-looking hotel on the outskirts of a big city. Dudley and Harry shared a room with twin beds and damp, musty sheets. Dudley snored but Harry stayed awake, sitting on the windowsill, staring down at the lights of passing cars and wondering…
They ate stale cornflakes (which Dudley had pushed away so Harry got his as well) and cold tinned tomatoes on toast for breakfast the next day. They had just finished when the owner of the hotel came over to their table. “‘Scuse me, but is one of you Mr. H. Potter? Only I got about an ‘undred of these at the front desk.” She held up a letter so they could read the green ink address:
Mr. H. Potter
Room 17
Railview Hotel
Cokeworth

Harry made a grab for the letter but Uncle Vernon knocked his hand out of the way. The woman stared. “I’ll take them,” said Uncle Vernon, standing up quickly and following her from the dining room. Harry was about to get up and follow her as well but the arm of Aunt Petunia pushed him back down into his seat. “Fine.” Harry sighed.
“Wouldn’t it be better just to go home dear?” Aunt Petunia suggested timidly, hours later, but Uncle Vernon didn’t seem to hear her. Exactly what he was looking for, none of them knew. He drove them into the middle of a forest, got out, looked around, shook his head, got back in the car, and off they went again. The same thing happened in the middle of a corn-filled field and Uncle Vernon only left when an angry farmer came in on a tractor. “Daddy’s gone mad hasn’t he?” Dudley asked Aunt Petunia dully late that afternoon. Uncle Vernon had parked at the coast, locked them all inside the car, and disappeared. It started to rain. Great drops beat on the roof of the car. Dudley sniveled. “It’s Monday,” he told his mother. “The Great Humberto’s on tonight. I want to stay somewhere with a television.” Monday. This reminded Harry of something. If it was Monday - and you could (surprisingly because of how stupid he was) usually count on Dudley to know the days of the week because of t.v. - then tomorrow, Tuesday, was Harry’s eleventh birthday. Of course, his birthdays were never exactly fun - last year the Dursleys had given him a piece of paper and a pair of old, dirty socks Uncle Vernon used to wear before he accidentally stepped in muddy water in them.
Uncle Vernon was back and he was smiling. He was also carrying a long thin package and didn’t answer Aunt Petunia when she asked what he’d bought. “Found the perfect place! Come on, everyone one out!”