Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (Harry Potter, #1)

by J.K. Rowling

Meant ter turn him into a pig, but I suppose he was so much like a pig anyway there wasn’t much left ter do.”

“Wizards have banks?” “Just the one. Gringotts. Run by goblins.” Harry dropped the bit of sausage he was holding. “Goblins?” “Yeah — so yeh’d be mad ter try an’ rob it, I’ll tell yeh that. Never mess with goblins, Harry.

I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter. . . . After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things — terrible, yes, but great.”

On Halloween morning they woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors.

But from that moment on, Hermione Granger became their friend. There are some things you can’t share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the fluttering banner high above, flashing Potter for President over the crowd. His heart skipped. He felt braver.

“Mum?” he whispered. “Dad?” They just looked at him, smiling. And slowly, Harry looked into the faces of the other people in the mirror, and saw other pairs of green eyes like his, other noses like his, even a little old man who looked as though he had Harry’s knobbly knees — Harry was looking at his family, for the first time in his life.