Regular Voice Narration
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
North American (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
Mr and Mrs Dursley of number four Privet Drive. We're proud to say that they were perfectly normal, Thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious because they just didn't hold with such nonsense. Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Groening's, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache. Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time creating over garden fences spying on the neighbors. The Dursley is had a small son called Dudley, and in their opinion, there was no finer boy anywhere. The Dursley is had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it. If anyone found out about the potters, Mrs. Potter was Mrs Dursley sister, but they hadn't met for several years. In fact, Mrs Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister because her sister and her good for nothing husband whereas under sluggish as it was possible to be, the Dursley shudder to think what the neighbors would say if the Potter's arrived in the street. The Dursley is knew that the Potters had a small son, too, but they had never seen him. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potter's away. They didn't want Dudley mixing with a child like that. When Mr and Mrs Dursley woke up on the dull gray Tuesday, our story starts. There was nothing about the cloudy sigh outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring time for work, and Mrs Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming deadly into his high chair. None of them noticed. Asl, arj tawny owl flutter past the window. At half past eight, Mr Dursley picked up his briefcase, packed Mrs Dursley on the cheek and tried to kiss Dudley goodbye but miss, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls.