Harry Potter And The Philosopher's Stone Book Chapter 1 นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Hand on the knob. The house burned behind her, slowly, elegantly. The kind of fire that didn’t destroy, only reminded you what had already been lost. She didn’t look back. Didn’t breathe. Didn’t cry. She turned the handle. The door creaked open. And behind it, There was no sky. No ground, Just a single chair. Facing away from her. Someone sat in it. Reading, A book made of bone. Their voice hummed. And the page they read out loud was Chapter 101.

Book 2: Crown of Shadows Chapter 1: The Departure The carriage door closed with finality that echoed through her chest like a death knell. Through crystal-clear windows enhanced with court magic far beyond territorial capabilities, she watched Shadoweave's spires fade into pre-dawn mist. Each familiar landmark disappeared with the inexorable permanence of choices that couldn't be unmade.

THE VOID ~HERIBERTO'S POV~ I felt it the moment she touched the Stone to the page. It wasn't a sound. It was a slight disturbance in the air... a cold feeling that touched the magic I had spread over the city. A small, blue dot on my awareness. They were reading my book. "Clever girl," I whispered.

I almost laughed at the thought, but the sound died in my throat as my gaze landed on the open book before me. Bruja. Only I could see the book and how its pages flipped on their own, fluttering like wings, stopping abruptly at a single page. I could see it clearly in my mind even though the book wasn’t near me. “Frosndomd Dexali Hippocampus,” I whispered, not even realizing I was chanting a spell. The rock glowed violently and then everything pulled. It was like my soul was being sucked into it. “Every element on earth holds memories,” a voice whispered in my head.

Without hesitation, I hook my arm through his and step toward the portal, feeling a chill run down my spine as I pass through to the other side. The moment I step into my spell casting hall, a wave of warmth floods over me. It’s as though my entire being has been submerged in a restorative bath. My powers return fully, humming through my veins like a melody long forgotten. The hall is just as I left it, though a faint hint of disorder betrays the passage of time. The books on the towering shelves, the meticulously organized potions on the workbenches, and the magical stone altar at the center—all of it seems to beckon me back to life.

Empire shifted tectonically under Kenji's chessboard; my pieces no longer pawns. Evening found him in lounge depths, scotch amber glowing city-veined glass, obsidian gaze lifting as stilettos clicked approach. No words—just stare loaded double-meanings, dragon pulse leaping throat under my dissection. Vengeance sealed blood ties, stalking forged new chains. Tension simmered, no boil, slow burn, atmospheric lethal—his to ruin, mine to claim.

The scent of aged paper filled the air as I flipped through the first few pages, my eyes moving over the words quickly, searching, trying to understand. If something had been holding my powers back… If something had been done to me… Then this— This might be where it started. I moved toward one of the stone tables, setting the book down as I leaned over it, my attention narrowing, the rest of the world fading out again. For the first time since leaving the hall— My focus wasn’t on Corin. or Rhys, or anything else for that matter. It was on this. On finding answers.

There were cobwebs everywhere, and I was not shocked because no one was in a hurry to learn that. Setting my satchel down on a nearby table, I pulled out the spell book and flipped to the chapter on protection. The symbols and instructions stared back at me looking very foreign. I ran my fingers over the pages, tracing the intricate designs as I whispered the first few words of the spell. I felt the air charge around me and for the first time in days, I felt a flicker of hope.

The world went white, but the story did not end. In the center of the void, a single, handwritten sentence appeared in ink that looked like blood and violet light: "CHAPTER ONE: The girl woke up in a world where the stars were made of wood, and the man beside her remembered her name before she did." Beneath the text, the gold coin—now purely, blindingly bronze—began to spin, a compass seeking a north that had not yet been created.

Heath and Liam emerged from the front, with Heath wearing Liam's shirt to cover his lower body. "What is it? Why are you guys guarding the door like this?” Liam asked the three teenagers who were standing at the door. But of course, the three of them couldn't answer because they didn't know either. As they didn't get any answer, Liam and Heath stepped into the house, and they were instantly surprised to see the object on the table shining so brightly and beautifully. It was Philosopher's Stone! Liam turned to Harriet, confused at what was in front of them. Meanwhile, Heath widened his eyes because he didn't expect his sister and Zaha to find the stone he put in his bag.