English Teacher: Harold Márquez Guide Number One Listening-Reading and Grammar Student: Grade

English teacher: Harold Mrquez
Reading and grammar

Student:
Grade:
Guide number one Listening-
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

CHAPTER ONE
THE BOY WHO LIVED
Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they
were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd
expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just
didn't hold with such nonsense.
Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He
was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large
mustache. Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual
amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time
craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors. The Dursleys had a small
son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.
The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their
greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could
bear it if anyone found out about the Potters. Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's
sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended
she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband
were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be. The Dursleys shuddered to think
what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived in the street. The Dursleys
knew that the
Potters had a small son, too, but they had never even seen him. This boy was
another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley
mixing with a child like that.
When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, gray Tuesday our story starts,
there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and
mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley
hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work, and Mrs. Dursley
gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair.
None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window.
At half past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Dursley on
the cheek, and tried to kiss Dudley good-bye but missed, because Dudley was
now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls. "Little tyke,"
chortled Mr. Dursley as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of
number four's drive.
It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something
peculiar -- a cat reading a map. For a second, Mr. Dursley didn't realize what he
had seen -- then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby
cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight.
What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr.
Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr. Dursley drove
around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now
reading the sign that said Privet Drive -- no, looking at the sign; cats couldn't
read maps or signs. Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out
of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large
order of drills he was hoping to get that day.
But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else.
As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there
seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks. Mr.
Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes -- the getups you
saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He
drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of
these weirdos standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together.
Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all;
why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald- green
cloak! The nerve of him! But then it struck Mr. Dursley that this was probably
some silly stunt -- these people were obviously collecting for something...yes,
that would be it. The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley
arrived in the Grunnings parking lot, his mind back on drills.
Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth
floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that
morning. He didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people
down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open mouthed as owl after owl
sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime. Mr.
Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five
different people. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit
more. He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd
stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the bakery.
In the empty space write the new vocabulary to learn

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English teacher: Harold Mrquez

Reading and grammar

Guide number one Listening-

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

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