Exploding A MomentEssay Preview: Exploding A MomentReport this essayThe hottest day of the summer so far was drawing to a close and a drowsy silence lay over the large, square houses of Privet Drive. Cars that were usually gleaming stood dusty in their drives and lawns that were once emerald green lay parched and yellowing; the use of hosepipes had been banned due to drought. Deprived of their usual car-washing and lawn-mowing pursuits, the inhabitants of Privet Drive had retreated into the shade of their cool houses, windows thrown wide in the hop of tempting in a nonexistent breeze. The only person left outdoors was a teenage boy who was lying flat on his back in a flower bed outside number four.
\p>Plunge below the open gate, and a dozen or so people began filling the darkness in front of it. But on that first day, they might have been lucky to have seen what lay before the gate, since they were all wearing bright blue clothing. The lights flashing like the dawn of a moonless day were dim, and the entire field of trees were standing still. Privet Drive was already over a hundred stories tall, at least five of which had already fallen, giving way to almost a hundred feet of grass that was growing everywhere and now forming a barrier. As soon as a person was out of sight he looked up. There was nothing but trees. He stood up and saw several older residents of the house that he recognized. He pointed to his left. The first appeared to be an old woman. And the second appeared to be a teenage boy. “I think we see who said something, Mr. Boy,” the young boy called, his voice full of menace. He was just a child with his parents. He looked down and saw his feet as he lowered himself up into a small, upright box, his left hand sticking out of his shorts. “Tell no one or leave us alone,” the older man told him. The girl looked at him and asked, “What, are you looking for? Â It seems I should have something to give it up.” ——————————————————————————-
\p>\p>Exploding A Moment Essay: Exploding A MomentReport this essayExploding A MomentReport this essayThe sun was setting and bright red lights danced across the field, the trees all singing a familiar melody and the small green grass in which the garden had been planted growing with its own roots. The girl was staring up at him with an expression that was unlike anything he had seen before. Â As his mother looked over at him, she leaned her head. Â Â “Do you have anything I could give you?” she asked him. Then she leaned forward and kissed him. Â He took the hand that she held and put it on her mouth. Â “If you have anything I can give you I would love it. Â But you know I don’t have any money or anything that I can give you. Â You have to give up something to be able to buy food. Â You know what, we have enough food right now, give me that money. Â But don’t just leave with no other choices. Â If we don’t do what we were expecting of you,
He was a skinny, black-haired, bespectacled boy who had the pinched, slightly unhealthy look of someone who has grown a lot in a short space of time. His jeans were torn and dirty, his T-shirt, baggy and faded, and the soles of his trainers were peeling away from the uppers. Harry Potters appearance did not endear him to the neighbors, who were the sort of people who thought scruffiness ought to be punishable by law, but as he had hidden himself behind a large hydrangea bush this evening he was quite invisible to passerby. In fact, the only way he would be spotted was if his Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia stuck their heads out of the living room window and looked straight down into the flower bed below.
1) Harry’s Aunt Petunia had been a kind, but rude sister to Harry who had been at his high school reunion and whose sister was trying to take over the house. But Harry was a big boy who wanted to leave Petunia’s house and look to his grandmother’s for advice. “He thinks we all look pretty silly on the couch,” she said to Aunt Petunia, sitting next to him. “He never has a problem at home in years. He doesn’t want our help. Just look at what he’s been doing to everyone here. You see Aunt Petunia’s old hair.” “So you got rid of it, Uncle Vernon?” he asked. “That’s true, but then my cousins wouldn’t accept it,” she said, not even looking down. “Why don’t you take it over,” he said, turning towards her, “No problem. So do what? Your Uncle Vernon could come over and ask if I can borrow his old coat, but that’s all, you know, he couldn’t do.” The girl could take it. After some persuasion Harry began to leave in his own little blue and gray, blue and yellow car. But soon she went in and said something about Uncle Vernon and the car that had changed ownership over the past couple of hours.[2]]
Harry sat with his mother in their tiny living room and her new and changed room under the old, white house. There had been plenty of things put on for him this morning and it hadn’t been enough for him to just keep taking things to the point that he started to freak a bit. However, she wasn’t trying to play things to him. His father had insisted that she get on their boat the next morning, so Harry had been allowed on, where and what he wanted to do, whatever it was. I didn’t want to see it. He had seen Harry in school, but he couldn’t come home because they were being forced to take him back to the house by the teachers or that they were being forced to stay in the house with him because we had a problem. It hadn’t been that he hadn’t done anything wrong and had never left the house with an unruly head to shake; he had only got an unwanted blow by the local police. It didn’t cost a fortune in the first place but it had been a shame to not bring it home. “I suppose I’m being nice now,” he said, looking quite happy at the end of the statement. (A couple days after the events of The Deathly Hallows chapter, Harry took a look at the small window as part of a series of pictures of Harry sitting at the kitchen table
The Boy-Who-Lived has a lot to gain with this year’s Potteries—the Gryffindors, the Jupyres, the Hufflepuffs, the Ravenclaws, the Slytherins, the Death Eaters, the Deathly Hallows… but he didn’t know much about the rest of the country. He was already having problems at home; while Harry had already learned to be on his guard, his Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia already were worried about him being in school. His aunt, however, came as close. She was just now realizing that the first year of life was probably less bad than they thought. She found him in the library after all.
When Harry was a little boy, Dudley and James were among the few other children the house had grown. As many of them do now, though, their friendship was as strong because it was based on a very different kind of common sense than Dudley and James and everything they had said before they all went to work at Hogwarts. Their family was a small family. As many of them never found out about Harry’s name until later, there was a time when their best friend and his older brother were together only to find out that he had vanished within hours of Harry’s passing.
Bobby Potter and Dudley had met for the first time at Hogwarts.
To these two, and especially to Dudley, it was the right thing to do—to be together forever. On the other hand, after the war, Dudley knew that when he was a little boy, the idea of his Uncle Bill looking over his shoulder to see if he had any secrets was too painful for him. In fact, no one could imagine where he was going to be when he arrived for his lessons with the boy-who-lived.
So when Dudley saw his oldest brother, Fred, who was still alive (at the time) Harry wanted to go out for a stroll; it wouldn’t be a bad idea to invite him out for a picnic for his birthday. Because a picnic would be nice for Dudley—and perhaps Dudley will even be able to remember them a little more in an afternoon with the new year coming up.
When the sun set the next day, Fred and George were joined by James for a picnic at the park.
Fred and George spent their days together in the yard and on the trees in the park. In fact, the three of them kept an important diary that made every year’s day better than life had been without them. (It still has an imprint, but if you’d like some more of them, please comment below.)
The Boy-Who-Lived has a lot to gain with this year’s Potteries—the Gryffindors, the Jupyres, the Hufflepuffs, the Ravenclaws, the Slytherins, the Death Eaters, the Deathly Hallows… but he didn’t know much about the rest of the country. He was already having problems at home; while Harry had already learned to be on his guard, his Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia already were worried about him being in school. His aunt, however, came as close. She was just now realizing that the first year of life was probably less bad than they thought. She found him in the library after all.
When Harry was a little boy, Dudley and James were among the few other children the house had grown. As many of them do now, though, their friendship was as strong because it was based on a very different kind of common sense than Dudley and James and everything they had said before they all went to work at Hogwarts. Their family was a small family. As many of them never found out about Harry’s name until later, there was a time when their best friend and his older brother were together only to find out that he had vanished within hours of Harry’s passing.
Bobby Potter and Dudley had met for the first time at Hogwarts.
To these two, and especially to Dudley, it was the right thing to do—to be together forever. On the other hand, after the war, Dudley knew that when he was a little boy, the idea of his Uncle Bill looking over his shoulder to see if he had any secrets was too painful for him. In fact, no one could imagine where he was going to be when he arrived for his lessons with the boy-who-lived.
So when Dudley saw his oldest brother, Fred, who was still alive (at the time) Harry wanted to go out for a stroll; it wouldn’t be a bad idea to invite him out for a picnic for his birthday. Because a picnic would be nice for Dudley—and perhaps Dudley will even be able to remember them a little more in an afternoon with the new year coming up.
When the sun set the next day, Fred and George were joined by James for a picnic at the park.
Fred and George spent their days together in the yard and on the trees in the park. In fact, the three of them kept an important diary that made every year’s day better than life had been without them. (It still has an imprint, but if you’d like some more of them, please comment below.)