Harry Potter

Chapter One: The Boy Who Lived

In a small English town called Little Whinging, there was a quiet street called Privet Drive. Nothing interesting ever happened there, except for the occasional cat crossing the road or the milkman delivering milk. But on one particular night, something very unusual
A man appeared on the street, walking quickly and nervously. He looked around, trying to find something or someone. He stopped in front of a house with the number 4 on the door and looked at it for a moment, hesitating.
Finally, he took a deep breath and approached the door, knocking on it three times. A moment later, the door opened, revealing a rather plump woman with a long neck and thin blonde hair. She looked at the man with a stern expression.
"Good evening," said the man, his voice shaking slightly. "I'm sorry to disturb you so late, but I must speak to you about an urgent matter."
The woman raised an eyebrow. "And what might that be?"
"It's about your nephew, Harry Potter," said the man. "May I come in?"
The woman's expression changed, becoming more suspicious. "How do you know about Harry?"
The man hesitated for a moment before pulling out a wand from his coat. The woman gasped, taking a step back.
"Don't worry," said the man, holding up his hands. "I'm not here to hurt you. My name is Rubeus Hagrid, and I work for the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Your nephew is a wizard, and he needs to come to our school to learn magic."
The woman's eyes widened, and she looked at Hagrid in disbelief. "A wizard? Harry?"
"Yes, ma'am," said Hagrid. "He's a very special boy, and he's been living with Muggles for too long. He needs to know who he really is and what he's capable of."
The woman looked at Hagrid for a long moment, then stepped back and opened the door wider. "Come in," she said. "I'll make some tea."
Hagrid entered the house, ducking his head to avoid hitting it on the low door frame. He looked around, taking in the neat and tidy living room. There was a TV in the corner, a sofa, and some armchairs. A fire was burning in the fireplace, and the room was warm and cozy.
The woman disappeared into the kitchen, and Hagrid heard her clattering pots and pans. He sat down on the sofa, which creaked under his weight. He looked around the room again, noticing a few pictures on the walls. One of them was of a boy with messy black hair and round glasses, grinning widely.
"That's Harry," said the woman, bringing a tray with two mugs of tea and some biscuits. "He's my sister's son. I don't know what you're talking about, though. Magic? Wizards? It's all nonsense, if you ask me."
Hagrid took a sip of tea, wincing as he burned his tongue. "It's not nonsense, ma'am," he said. "It's very real, and Harry is one of the most talented wizards of his age. He needs to come to Hogwarts to learn how to control his powers and use them for good."
The woman looked at Hagrid for a long moment, then sighed. "I don't know. I've always known there was something strange about Harry, but I didn't want to think about it. My husband and I, we're normal people. We don't want anything to do with... with all that."
Hagrid nodded sympathetically. "I understand, ma'am.

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Chapter Two: The Vanishing Glass

Harry Potter was a skinny boy with messy black hair and bright green eyes. He lived with his Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and their spoiled son Dudley, in a cupboard under the stairs. Harry's parents had died when he was a baby, and he had been left with his Muggle (non-magical)
Harry was not a happy boy. He was treated like a servant by his relatives, and they made it very clear that they did not like him. Harry had always known he was different from other people, and he often had strange things happen around him that he could not
One day, Harry was sitting in his cupboard, looking out at the world through a small crack in the door. He was watching his cousin Dudley, who was playing in the garden with his friends. Harry was not allowed to go outside, and he envied Dudley's freedom.
Suddenly, something strange happened. The glass in the window of the cupboard disappeared, and Harry felt a rush of cold air on his face. He looked around, wondering what was going on, when he saw a woman standing outside the window.
The woman was very pretty, with long, dark hair and sparkling blue eyes. She was wearing a long, flowing cloak, and she was smiling at Harry.
"Hello, Harry," she said. "My name is Minerva McGonagall, and I teach at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
Harry was shocked. He had never met anyone who knew he was a wizard before.
"Wha... what?" he stammered.
"I know it's a lot to take in, Harry," said McGonagall. "But you are a wizard, and we need to get you to Hogwarts as soon as possible. You have a lot to learn, and we can't have you living in a cupboard under the stairs."
Harry was confused and frightened, but he also felt a sense of excitement. Could it be true? Was he really a wizard?
McGonagall went on to explain that Harry's parents had been powerful wizards who had been killed by the evil Lord Voldemort when Harry was just a baby. Voldemort had tried to kill Harry as well, but for some reason, he had failed. Harry had become known as "The Boy Who Lived" and had been sent to live with his Muggle relatives for his own safety.
"But now, Harry," said McGonagall. "It's time for you to come with me to Hogwarts."

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Chapter Three: The Letters from No One

Harry was excited about the prospect of going to Hogwarts, but his excitement was short-lived. When he got back to the cupboard under the stairs, his Uncle Vernon was waiting for him.
"What the devil do you think you're doing?" barked Uncle Vernon. "Spying on us?"
Harry tried to explain what had happened, but his Uncle Vernon was having none of it. He insisted that Harry was making up stories and threatened him with punishment if he did not stop.
The next day, Harry was surprised to receive a letter in the mail. It was addressed to him, and it had a strange, green seal on the back. Harry was curious, but his Uncle Vernon snatched the letter away and tore it up, telling Harry it was junk mail.
But the letters kept coming, and they became more and more persistent. Harry received one every day, each one addressed to him and with the same green seal. Uncle Vernon became increasingly agitated and eventually decided to take the family on a trip to a remote island to escape the letters.
But even on the island, the letters found Harry. They came through the chimney,