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

by J.K. Rowling

she always got so upset at any mention of her sister.

Did Petunia find herself attracted to the most bland man in the world because she believed so thorougly that she wasn't special in comparison to Lily? Making me think with their floral names and that quote about how no flower's beauty is less than another's, just different. I'm sad.

You-Know-Who

Even after they think he's dead, they're afraid of him.

And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off.

LOL

It just gave him a stern look.

CLASSIC

He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots.

Gay slay

“Only because you’re too — well — noble to use them.”

Interesting

“It’s lucky it’s dark. I haven’t blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs.”

WHOLESOME THO

No one knows why, or how, but they’re saying that when he couldn’t kill Harry Potter, Voldemort’s power somehow broke — and that’s why he’s gone.”

all the people he’s killed . . . he couldn’t kill a little boy?

“And I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me why you’re here, of all places?”

SUS FROM THE START

“You think it — wise — to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?” “I would trust Hagrid with my life,” said Dumbledore.

:')

“Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I’ve got him, sir.”

CRYING

“Could I — could I say good-bye to him, sir?” asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.

SOFT

Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.

I love Hagrid being a motorcycle manly man who cries at the drop of a hat

Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours’ time by Mrs. Dursley’s scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley. . . . He couldn’t know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: “To Harry Potter — the boy who lived!”

Harry didn’t look it, but he was very fast.

The only thing Harry liked about his own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead that was shaped like a bolt of lightning.

The only thing he likes about himself is the proof of his mother's love brb sobbing

“to hide that horrible scar.”

Her belittling what he loves most about himself

He looked back at the snake and winked, too.

Cheeky lol

“Go — cupboard — stay — no meals,”

Someone call CPS

a blinding flash of green light and a burning pain on his forehead.

“No, thanks,” said Harry. “The poor toilet’s never had anything as horrible as your head down it — it might be sick.” Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he’d said.

SASS KING

“Oh,” he said, “I didn’t realize it had to be so wet.”

HARRY

He had no friends,

*CRIES*

He hummed “Tiptoe Through the Tulips” as he worked, and jumped at small noises.

Cringe

“Yeh look a lot like yer dad, but yeh’ve got yer mum’s eyes.”

“Ah, shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune,”

Harry opened it with trembling fingers. Inside was a large, sticky chocolate cake with Happy Birthday Harry written on it in green icing.

Cries forever

“Harry — yer a wizard.”

How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that — that school — and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was — a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!”

She makes me so sad

she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you!”

Trauma

people are still scared.

Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die.

’Cause somethin’ about you finished him, Harry. There was somethin’ goin’ on that night he hadn’t counted on — I dunno what it was, no one does — but somethin’ about you stumped him, all right.”

Voldemort is too proud to think of love & goodness

“Harry Potter, not a wizard — you wait, you’ll be right famous at Hogwarts.”

:')

“Oh, well — I was at Hogwarts meself but I — er — got expelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an’ everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore.”

***

— so yeh’d be mad ter try an’ rob it, I’ll tell yeh that.

***

Blimey, Harry, everyone’d be wantin’ magic solutions to their problems.

Is that a bad thing?

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

***

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

Lol ok

I’ve g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself.” He looked terrified at the very thought.

Thinking of him drinking unicorn blood

Harry now carried a large cage that held a beautiful snowy owl, fast asleep with her head under her wing.

“I remember every wand I’ve ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather — just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother — why, its brother gave you that scar.”

After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things — terrible, yes, but great.”

“Everyone thinks I’m special,” he said at last. “All those people in the Leaky Cauldron, Professor Quirrell, Mr. Ollivander . . . but I don’t know anything about magic at all. How can they expect great things? I’m famous and I can’t even remember what I’m famous for.

“Nine and three-quarters!” piped a small girl, also red-headed, who was holding her hand. “Mum, can’t I go .

QUEEN

“I’m not Fred, I’m George,” said the boy. “Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can’t you tell I’m George?”

“Excuse me,” Harry said to the plump woman. “Hello, dear,” she said. “First time at Hogwarts? Ron’s new, too.” She pointed at the last and youngest of her sons. He was tall, thin, and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet, and a long nose.

“Harry Potter,” chorused the twins. “Oh, him,” said Harry. “I mean, yes, I am.”

I love this separation of himself from the wizarding world's idea of him.

“Oh, are you a prefect, Percy?” said one of the twins, with an air of great surprise. “You should have said something, we had no idea.” “Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it,” said the other twin. “Once —” “Or twice —” “A minute —” “All summer —”

LMAO