Thomas Taylor
It all started with a train
It is almost poetic that two of the most significant moments in the creation of the Harry Potter phenomenon began not in a grand office or a quiet library, but on a train. Just as J.K. Rowling first dreamed up the idea for Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone while delayed between London and Manchester in 1995, the illustrator who would give the Boy Who Lived his very first visual form also began his journey on a train.
In 1996, one year before the world would meet Harry Potter, 23-year-old Thomas Taylor stepped off a train at King’s Cross Station—yes, that King’s Cross, home of the legendary Platform 9¾. Fresh out of art school and working in a children’s bookshop in Cambridge, Taylor had begun to understand the world of children’s publishing from the inside. Determined to forge a path as an illustrator, he set out for London with nothing more than a portfolio full of dragons and a dream. His first stop? The Bloomsbury offices.
Thomas Scamander
With no agent and barely any contact in the industry, Thomas Taylor walked into Bloomsbury Publishing with his sample drawings tucked under his arm—some dragons, a few character sketches, and no expectations. Serendipity was on his side. Just days later, Barry Cunningham, the man who would become known for signing the previously unknown J.K. Rowling, called him. He had seen the dragons.
Cunningham had a manuscript from a debut author and needed a cover. Would Taylor be interested in illustrating it?
Thomas said yes. Then he bought himself a nice bottle of Belgian beer and a set of fine pens to celebrate.
Reading on the rails
Like Rowling before him, Taylor first encountered the magic of Harry Potter aboard a train. Bloomsbury sent him a manuscript printout—annotated with editorial notes and over a year away from publication—and Taylor read it while traveling. Immersed in the tale of a boy wizard who learns his true identity at age eleven, he was unknowingly stepping into literary history.
Although the initial brief included sketches for black and white chapter headings, plans soon shifted. Thomas Taylor would focus solely on one thing: the cover illustration of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone.
Journey to Platform 9¾
Illustrating a book cover, especially for a fantasy novel, is no small task. Taylor was encouraged to explore different scenes, and Bloomsbury suggested the pivotal moment when Harry first approaches the Hogwarts Express at Platform 9¾.
The first sketch had Harry walking away from the reader, toward the train. But Bloomsbury wanted the young wizard facing forward, so readers could connect with him instantly. The final illustration was made with pencil, concentrated watercolour, and finished with a black Karisma pencil. It featured a wide-eyed Harry wearing circular glasses and a red-and-yellow scarf, standing beside a large scarlet steam engine labeled “Hogwarts Express.” Whimsical purple smoke and golden stars filled the scene with enchantment.
The entire piece took just two days to complete. Taylor returned to London to hand-deliver the drawing himself.
In retrospect, Taylor has mixed feelings about the design. “I probably wouldn’t paint the interior of a London railway station,” he admitted years later. He noted that Harry, described in the book as wearing oversized, shabby clothes, appears more polished and colorful in the artwork. “I would fill the page with magic,” he said. “A good cover should tell you what it will feel like to read the book.”
Still, the image—part fantasy, part realism—captured a sense of mystery and anticipation. Bloomsbury originally planned to use the entire illustration, allowing the title to swirl through the smoke. But in the final version, the book’s title appeared on a bold red background, concealing the upper part of the drawing. Curiously, Platform 10, visible in the artwork, was cropped out altogether.
The Mysterious Wizard
On the back of the 1997 edition, a curious character appeared: a tall, thin wizard wearing a purple hat and striped trousers, with a pipe in one hand and an old book in the other. Readers speculated endlessly—was it Dumbledore? Quirrell? Nicolas Flamel?
It was none of the above.
Thomas Taylor later revealed that the mysterious figure was not a character from the novel, but rather an original creation inspired by his own father, Robert Taylor. “I was asked to provide ‘a wizard to decorate the back cover,’” he explained. “It wasn’t difficult to conjure one of my own.”
As for the mysterious bulge in the wizard’s pocket? “Might have been a hedgehog,” Taylor joked. “It’s impossible to remember now.”
Albus the Hobbit
As the Harry Potter series grew into a global sensation, Bloomsbury began receiving a flood of inquiries about the mysterious wizard. To resolve the confusion, they eventually replaced him with a more official figure: Albus Dumbledore, silhouetted and holding a Deluminator.
In a subtle nod to fantasy literature, Dumbledore’s cloak was adorned with runes borrowed from The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien. They spelled out the wizard’s name—an Easter egg linking two of the most beloved fictional universes in modern literature.
The Fame and the Phenomenon
When Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone hit bookshelves in 1997, it did so with almost no fanfare. J.K. Rowling was a name nobody recognized. The same went for Thomas Taylor. He was still working in that same Cambridge bookshop when the first copies arrived—ten of them. Though his coworkers were thrilled that their illustrator had landed a real book cover, customers reacted with skepticism when told that the man behind the counter had drawn the Boy Who Lived.
Soon, though, fame found him.
Reporters called. One from Canada even rang Taylor’s house unannounced to interview him. A journalist claimed to have found an early sketch without Harry’s iconic lightning-bolt scar. When asked about his inspiration, Taylor fibbed that Harry was “more or less” based on a real person—worried that the truth (“I just followed the book’s description”) might not sound as magical.
Yet through it all, Taylor remained grounded. He still regrets not buying one of those first ten copies at the shop, especially since the complimentary signed edition from Bloomsbury never arrived.
He is proud of his work, but cautious of the narrative that this first illustration defines him. “One book cover does not make a career,” he said. “This image has long been something for me to live down as much as it is something to be proud of.”
Though it opened doors—some of them useful, others opportunistic—it didn’t guarantee smooth sailing. At times, he felt that clients were more interested in the Harry Potter name than in his actual work.
He met J.K. Rowling once, years later, during a signing at the shop. They spoke not of magical schools or book covers, but of gardening.
If he could illustrate another Harry Potter book? “The Prisoner of Azkaban,” he answered. “It has some lovely imagery.”
The Price of Art
Thomas Taylor’s original cover illustration has since become a legendary piece of publishing history. In July 2001, it went to auction with an estimate of £20,000–£25,000, ultimately selling for £87,750.
In June 2024, it returned to auction with an estimate of $400,000–$600,000. It sold for a staggering $1.9 million.
For a few days before the sale, the artwork was displayed at Sotheby’s New York, a reminder of how one image—painted in watercolour by a 23-year-old illustrator fresh out of school—helped launch a literary empire.
Beyond the Platform
Thomas Taylor has gone on to write and illustrate many books of his own, including the acclaimed Eerie-on-Sea series. Though his name will forever be linked to Harry Potter, he has carved a distinct identity as a creator of magical tales and captivating visuals.
The train that brought him to London in 1996 carried more than a portfolio. It carried the first brushstroke of a phenomenon. And just like that steam-filled platform at King’s Cross, Thomas Taylor’s story reminds us that sometimes, the greatest journeys begin with the most ordinary departures.