Novel & Cerita Harry Potter Story Book

Well, it was a good thing I already know the story, I have read it about a hundred or more times. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. What could be better than all the fantasy, action and thriller all in once? Trying to concentrate onto the words of the book and let my imagination disrupt my thoughts, I didn't even realise I managed to walk straight into something hard and strong. I gasped as I was almost knocked out off balance.

“Oh my god! You got me the Harry Potter Series!” I rushed to the bookshelf and grabbed a copy of ‘Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire’. It was the only book I had read in the series and I had fallen in love with it. I had promised myself that I would buy more but I never got the money. “Yeah, girl,” she said smugly, “and I got you some others you might like…” I saw the other books and my jaw dropped. It was almost all the books on my reading wish list.

Memories of me and Ethan sprawled on my bed or my bedroom floor reading books together, guessing each other’s Hogwarts house. It was Friday afternoon. As the classes were over before noon, I had called Jake over to help me pack all my stuff for the move. Anya would have helped, but she was in her office and had called in to make sure Jake and Andrew were behaving. “Is that Harry Potter?!” Andrew exclaimed, rushing into my room and leaning down to see the books with his big brown eyes. I grinned at him and let him see the books. “My mom gifted it to me when I was ten.”

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))

The Little Mermaid popped out at me, as did The Emperor's New Clothes, but I thought maybe a story that people are foolish in public wouldn’t be the best choice. Then I looked around some more and picked up Floca’s Moonshot: The Flight of Apollo 11, Lewis’s The Wolf, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, and Dahl’s Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, and a few others. I paused at the Harry Potter series, but while the girls were old enough, being werewolves, for the story, I knew the sizes of the books would put them off. Next year, I thought. They’d have handled textbooks by then and wouldn’t be so rapidly opposed to books an inch thick or more.

Hunter crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked at me annoyed. I ignored him and turned the cover. Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets. "Well, this is a secret, alright. I didn't know you're a Harry Potter fan." Hunter took a few steps and took the book from me. "You know nothing about me." He opened the book, flipped through the pages until he found the page he was reading. "I know you for a year now. I think I know one or two things about you. One of it is that you don't read, especially a book." I picked up the bottle of beer from the ground and took a sip.

(Harper’s POV) “I’m sorry, what now?” I stared at Harry, dumbfounded. He flicked through some more pages of the book and then turned it to face me. I apprehensively looked down at the book. The page was titled “Bloodline” and there was a picture of a wicked-looking blade down one side. The writing was a little faded and handwritten, but despite all that, it felt so familiar and I could read it, like it was something I had read a thousand times before.

“When I was young, I’d hide up here because Jason didn’t know about it. In fact, until about six months ago, I always knew that I was safe up here.” Boy, how much didn’t I want to know the answer to this, but still… “What happened six months ago?” Alex shunted an old collection of Harry Potter books to one side (and no surprises why he’d had to hide stories where the wizard was the hero), and wriggled his hand through to a large blanket box.

I'm reading Harry Potter on the couch, at Ana's insistence. Despite my first impressions of the book, mainly that it seemed geared toward children and not me, Harry Potter is turning out to be a very interesting read. I can't really relate to the main character missing his parents, but I can relate to his dislike for his living family members and his joy at leaving them behind and making new, unexpected friends. Sensing that it must be late, I check the time and see that it's 11:30, much later than Ana is usually out in the living room. I glance over at the table to see her head nodding at the same tempo as the foot-tapping. She is still intent on the Glock. I wonder if she realizes how late

“You know, like in Harry Potter? What Voldemort did.” “Never read it,” I said. Maurice’s mouth fell open, and his glasses slid right down to the tip of his nose. Claire leaned out from his other side. “You never read Harry Potter? Any of them?” “No. Well, I tried the first one. Thought it was long-winded and poorly written.” They were both staring me down. They’d followed my instructions and trusted my judgement when lives were on the line, but now I had gone too far.