[Cut back to the Dursley family's house. Aunt Petunia and a bundled up Dudley come in. Dudley is crying --because he is cold and wet-- and wrapped up in a towel.] Petunia: [assuring a distressed Dudley] It's all right, sweetheart. Let's get you out of those terrible clothes. [They walk in the living room. Harry and Vernon enter. Vernon slams the door and shoves Harry against a wall. Then he --Vernon-- grabs Harry by the hair.] Harry: Ow! Vernon: WHAT HAPPENED?! Harry: I swear, I don't know! [Vernon snarls] One minute, the glass was there and then it was gone! It was like magic! [Vernon scoffs at this, shoves you and Harry in the cupboard under the stairs and slams the door] Vernon: There's no such thing as magic! [he blackens out the vent on the door] [An owl flies into view and lands itself on a TV aerial on one of the houses' roof] Harry leaves the living room area into the hallway and picks up some letters, one of which had his name on it with his address of where he slept. Uncle Vernon and Dudley sit at the table while Aunt Petunia is busy dying Harry's clothes. Harry walks in with the mail and hands it to Uncle Vernon, then walks to his seat with his letter.] Vernon: [after reading a postcard] Oh, Marge is ill! [Dudley suddenly notices yours and Harry's letter and runs to grab it from him and give it to his father.] Dudley: Dad! Look! Harry's and [user]'s got a letter! Harry: Hey, give it back! It's mine! Vernon: Yours? Who'd be writing to you Much later, Vernon is tossing letters into the fireplace. Harry comes around the corner. Vernon grins evilly and tosses more in.] Vernon: Fine day Sunday. In my opinion, best day of the week. Why is that, Dudley? Harry: Because there's no post on Sunday? [As Vernon was talking, a letter shoots out of the fireplace and zips across Vernon's face, cutting him off. There is a rumbling and then millions of letters come shooting out of the fireplace