book 1 - harry potter and the sorcerer_s stone(1)

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harry potter and the sorcerer’s stone by j.k. rowling chapter one the boy who lived mr. and mrs. dursley, of number four, privet drive, were 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 grunnings, 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 craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors. the dursleys had a small son called dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere. the dursleys had everything they …

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f past eight, mr. dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked mrs. dursley on the cheek, and tried to kiss dudley good-bye but missed, because dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls. “little tyke,” chortled mr. dursley as he left the house. he got into his car and backed out of number four’s drive. it was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar — a cat reading a map. for a second, mr. dursley didn’t realize what he had seen — then he jerked his head around to look again. there was a tabby cat standing on the corner of privet drive, but there wasn’t a map in sight. what could he have been thinking of? it must have been a trick of the light. mr. dursley blinked and stared at the cat. it stared back. as …

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would be it. the traffic moved on and a few minutes later, mr. dursley arrived in the grunnings parking lot, his mind back on drills. mr. dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. if he hadn’t, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. he didn’t see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime. mr. dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. he yelled at five different people. he made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more. he was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he’d stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the …

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no point in worrying mrs. dursley; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. he didn’t blame her — if he’d had a sister like that… but all the same, those people in cloaks… he found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o’clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door. “sorry,” he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. it was a few seconds before mr. dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. he didn’t seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. on the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passersby stare, “don’t be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! rejoice, for …

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ally. when dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news: “and finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation’s owls have been behaving very unusually today. although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern.” the newscaster allowed himself a grin. “most mysterious. and now, over to jim mcguffin with the weather. going to be any more showers of owls tonight, jim?” “well, ted,” said the weatherman, “i don’t know about that, but it’s not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. viewers as far apart as kent, yorkshire, and dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead …

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harry potter and the sorcerer’s stone by j.k. rowling chapter one the boy who lived mr. and mrs. dursley, of number four, privet drive, were 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 grunnings, 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 craning …

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