Novel & Cerita Harry Potter And The Philosophers Stone First Edition

Erik, then, continued. "So, Mr. Potter, can you, please, tell us in your words what happened that took your friends and you into that little adventure?" Erik then waited patiently for the boy to start his tale. Mr. Potter managed to calm down, then took a deep breath and asked. "From the beginning?" "From the beginning." Erik replied to the boy, who took another deep breath and started to talk. "It all started a week before my eleventh birthday…" ((insert here the narrative of the book 'Larry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone' from chapter 3, until after his talk with Dumbledore in the infirmary))

"Fenrir fulfilled his dark purpose." "Yes." "Seraphina fulfilled hers." "Yes." "And what of the Child of Dawn?" The man's smile widened, an unsettling glimmer in his eye. "He exceeded every single expectation." He placed a heavy, leather-bound journal onto the stone table, the ancient dust swirling around it. The faded gold lettering on the cover read: *The Book of the First Age*. He flipped the heavy parchment pages open to the very final leaf. Inside was a meticulously detailed ink portrait. It wasn't a drawing of Fenrir, nor Elyria, nor the cosmic Seven Keepers. It was a portrait of a fierce young man with piercing golden eyes.

Small, rectangular, wrapped in cream paper with a bronze ribbon. “Daniel…” “Just open it.” I unwrap carefully, my fingers trembling slightly. Beneath the paper is a book. Old leather binding. Gold lettering on the spine that catches the candlelight. Jane Eyre. First Edition. My breath catches. “This is…” “A 1847 first edition. Smith, Elder & Co. printing.” His voice is soft, almost vulnerable. “You told me that night, four years ago, that it was your favorite book. That your father used to read it to you before bed, doing all the voices. I’ve been looking for the right copy ever since.”

The first book arrived on a Tuesday, wrapped in plain brown paper and smelling of old leather and ozone. It was a first edition of Agrippa’s Occultae Philosophiae, a text so rare Alistair had only ever read excerpts in digital facsimile. He found it on his usual desk in the university’s Special Collections wing, a room that smelled perpetually of dust and quiet. There was no note, only a single silk ribbon marking a page. His breath caught. He was a man of meticulous order, a historian of grim power, and such an unexpected object in his sanctum was an event of seismic proportions.

I shrugged. “Nah, I don’t think my mum will be too surprised.” I said. “Last year at Bella’s birthday I told my mum to get a rare original copy of Harry Potter’s Chamber of Secrets. It’s Bella’s favorite copy and i was too shy, I gifted her without a card or a note so she couldn’t tell it was from me. Mum asked me if I had a crush on Bella.” “And what did you say?” Henry prodded, his eyes wide open in interested.

It is hard to chew it as I try my best to smile innocently at Sky who sighs and pokes my full cheeks, commenting that I look like a chipmunk. “Option one from about two hundred and fifty years ago, the Harry Potter Series.” Lia chimes in, motioning the pile of seven movie sitting on the edge of the coffee table. I laugh, watching as Lia begins to take the first movie – Harry Potter and the Philosopher Stone. I movie full of magic and a revolution at the end. Seems fitting to what I am dealing with right now. “What the other option?” Sky asks, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and pressing a kiss on my forehead.

"Present. Like something came back." I said nothing. "I thought you should know that," she said. "From someone who was here before." She left. I stood in the entrance hall holding the box. Went to my desk. Opened it. Inside, wrapped in tissue paper, was a book. Old. Hardcover. The spine cracked and the pages yellowed at the edges. I lifted it out carefully. *Paradise Lost.* Milton. A first edition or close to it, too old and too carefully preserved for me to be certain.