Harry Potter And The Sorcerer's Stone Book Chapter 1 Novels & Stories

the book opened again to that exact page, and I screamed a little. “I’m going to prove it to you,” I said to the book like I was talking to an actual person. I read one of the spells, stretched my hands towards the shelves.” Phasmatos Motus Liber! Bring me the book I want. Phasmatos Motus Liber! Bring me the book I want.” I said it again, but nothing happened. “See, I told….” I was cut off with a book flying towards me and landing in my hands.

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.

Hm… might have to have a good long think on that one. Lena closed the book after finishing up the entry and put it back into its place in her desk drawer. She tugged the band out of her shoulder length brown hair, running her fingers through it. The young woman then moved over to her bed where on the nightstand, was a very worn copy of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. She got comfortable on her bed, picked up the book and started to read. She got through about 10 pages before there was a knock on her door. "Come in!" Lena called. She glanced at the door when it opened and fellow sorority sister, Casey Grant, walked in.

It is our choices that show who we truly are far more than our abilities. ~Professor Dumbledore, The chamber of secrets. •• Warning: This chapter contains words/paragraphs that may be triggering to some readers. Read discretion as adviced. This chapter will reveal most of the why's in the book. •• Noor stared at her Baba from across the dining table, taking notice of the stiffness of his jaw. It was one of the many saturday breakfasts they had together but his wife was absent today, making it almost bearable for her. If only her Baba wasn't intent on making conversations today, all would be well.

I find it strange that there are no notes or marked pages. I pick up the second book and am surprised that there are notes, but not in my hand. The handwriting is that of a man and seems old. Curiously, I follow the directions for the hand motions and see a pink smoke illuminating from my hand. Concentrating on a medical terminology book on a shelf, I call it to me, then stop it before it reaches me. “Page 75,” the book opens to the page, and I hear the words in my head. “Stop,” I say, then, “Page 283.” The pages turn, and then I hear the words again. “Stop, go back.” The book goes back to its place on the shelf. My attention then goes back to the spell book. Everything is handwritten and it

Benny runs to the door, but then hovers, watching rather than leaving. "This...." says the man, holding up the ragged book. "This is a waste of time." And taking it in both hands, he slowly tears the book in two. Pages fall from the binding, fluttering to the floor to lie in a scatter of words, green-skinned djinns and robed sorcerers which he kicks through, so they flutter beyond her reach. He stands over her, looking down. "Your turn's coming. It won't be long now before they send you to senior school...."

It’s all I think about. So I ready everything I need and recite the spell. The wind howls angrily, I’m levitating and the book sets itself on fire but it doesn’t burn. The pages remain in tact and for the first time all night. I feel scared. “You’re either very brave or very stupid for summoning me.” I suddenly get dragged into a realm of darkness and there’s a figure in front of me but I can’t make out their face. All I can see is a pair of green eyes glowing in the dark. My heart beats frantically in my chest. I want to curl up in ball and I want t o reverse the spell and put the books back where I found them because all I feel coming from those green eyes is evil and an insatiable hunger.

Hello to my readers! This chapter is the last chapter for LOGAN and just to warn you it's a bit longer and I don't want to split it in half because this is an epilogue. I deeply apologize and would like to say thank you for joining me on this journey with completing book 1 of The Wolfe Brothers series. See you guys in book 2! It had been a week since the incident with Heather, and I was ready to return to school, acting as if nothing had happened. The next day I treated it like any other ordinary day.

Even if the best case scenario was I remain the same, at least I might be able to center myself long enough to not have my magic explode out of me like some kind of cannon. I set the book down on the coffee table before taking my seat on the floor in front of it. The first few pages are introductions to the author and whatever other nonsense I immediately bypass. I don't need to read through twenty pages of some author—whose more than likely dead by now—droning on about the importance of magic balance and blah blah. Flipping to somewhere in the middle,I immediately saw a diagram of a pentagram. "Ohhh…" I mumble to myself and trace my finger over it.

The flames around them flicker wildly. The little prince cries louder. Stephen flinches with every sound. “Place him on the altar,” the sorcerer instructs. Marco steps forward. The makeshift stone altar is nothing more than an old rock, but the energy that radiates from it is dark, pulsing, almost alive. He lays the child down. The boy’s cries turn to screams. Stephen can’t breathe. Marco stands back, his eyes gleaming with triumph. The sorcerer begins to chant. Low guttural sounds. Words no mortal should hear.