The only thing Harry liked about his own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead which was shaped like a bolt of lightning. He had had it as long as he could remember and the first question he could ever remember asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had got it. ‘In the car crash when your parents died,’ she had said. ‘And don’t ask questions.’ Don’t ask questions – that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys. Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon. ‘Comb your hair!’ he barked, by way of a morning greeting. About once a week, Uncle Vernon
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