HP1-HarryPotterandtheSorcerer'sStone

HarryPotterandtheSorcerer'sStone

HarryPotter&TheSorcerer’sStone

byJ.K.Rowling

HP1-HarryPotterandtheSorcerer'sStone

CHAPTERONE

THEBOYWHOLIVED

Mr.andMrs.Dursley,ofnumberfour,PrivetDrive,wereproudtosaythattheywereperfectlynormal,thankyouverymuch.Theywerethelastpeopleyou’dexpecttobeinvolvedinanythingstrangeormysterious,becausetheyjustdidn’tholdwithsuchnonsense.

Mr.DursleywasthedirectorofafirmcalledGrunnings,whichmadedrills.Hewas a big, beefymanwithhardly anyneck, althoughhedidhave averylargemustache.Mrs.Dursleywasthinandblondeandhadnearlytwicetheusualamountofneck,whichcame inveryusefulas shespent somuchofhertimecraningovergarden fences, spyingon theneighbors.TheDursleyshadasmallsoncalledDudleyandintheiropiniontherewasnofinerboyanywhere.

TheDursleyshadeverythingtheywanted,buttheyalsohadasecret,and theirgreatest fearwas thatsomebodywoulddiscover it.Theydidn’t thinktheycouldbear it ifanyone foundoutabout thePotters.Mrs.PotterwasMrs.Dursley’s sister, but they hadn’t met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursleypretendedshedidn’thavea sister,becauseher sisterandhergood-for-nothinghusbandwereasunDursleyishasitwaspossibletobe.TheDursleysshudderedto thinkwhat the neighborswould say if thePotters arrived in the street.TheDursleys knew that the Potters had a small son, too, but they had never evenseenhim.ThisboywasanothergoodreasonforkeepingthePottersaway;theydidn’twantDudleymixingwithachildlikethat.

WhenMr.andMrs.Dursleywokeupon thedull,grayTuesdayourstory starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest thatstrangeandmysteriousthingswouldsoonbehappeningalloverthecountry.Mr.Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work, and Mrs.DursleygossipedawayhappilyasshewrestledascreamingDudleyintohishighchair.

Noneofthemnoticedalarge,tawnyowlflutterpastthewindow. Athalfpasteight,Mr.Dursleypickeduphisbriefcase,peckedMrs.

Dursley on the cheek, and tried to kissDudley good-bye butmissed, becauseDudleywasnowhavingatantrumandthrowinghiscerealatthewalls.

“Littletyke,”chortledMr.Dursleyasheleftthehouse.Hegotintohiscarandbackedoutofnumberfour’sdrive.

It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of

something peculiar— a cat reading amap. For a second,Mr.Dursley didn’trealizewhathehadseen—thenhejerkedhisheadaroundtolookagain.TherewasatabbycatstandingonthecornerofPrivetDrive,buttherewasn’tamapinsight.What could he have been thinking of? Itmust have been a trick of thelight.Mr.Dursleyblinkedandstaredat thecat.Itstaredback.AsMr.Dursleydrovearoundthecorneranduptheroad,hewatchedthecatinhismirror.Itwasnow reading the sign that said Privet Drive — no, looking at the sign; catscouldn’treadmapsorsigns.Mr.Dursleygavehimselfalittleshakeandputthecat out of hismind.As he drove toward townhe thought of nothing except alargeorderofdrillshewashopingtogetthatday.

But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind bysomething else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn’t helpnoticingthatthereseemedtobealotofstrangelydressedpeopleabout.Peopleincloaks.Mr.Dursleycouldn’tbearpeoplewhodressedinfunnyclothes—thegetups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid newfashion.He drummed his fingers on the steeringwheel and his eyes fell on ahuddleoftheseweirdosstandingquitecloseby.Theywerewhisperingexcitedlytogether.Mr.Dursleywasenragedtoseethatacoupleofthemweren’tyoungatall;why, thatmanhad tobeolder thanhewas,andwearinganemerald-greencloak!Thenerveofhim!ButthenitstruckMr.Dursleythatthiswasprobablysomesilly stunt—thesepeoplewereobviouslycollecting for something…yes,that would be it. The traffic moved on and a fewminutes later,Mr. DursleyarrivedintheGrunningsparkinglot,hismindbackondrills.

Mr.Dursleyalwayssatwithhisbacktothewindowinhisofficeontheninthfloor.Ifhehadn’t,hemighthavefounditharder toconcentrateondrillsthatmorning.Hedidn’t see the owls swoopingpast in broaddaylight, thoughpeopledowninthestreetdid;theypointedandgazedopen-mouthedasowlafterowlspedoverhead.Mostofthemhadneverseenanowlevenatnighttime.Mr.Dursley,however,hadaperfectlynormal,owl-freemorning.Heyelledat fivedifferent people.Hemade several important telephone calls and shouted a bitmore.Hewasinaverygoodmooduntillunchtime,whenhethoughthe’dstretchhislegsandwalkacrosstheroadtobuyhimselfabunfromthebakery.

He’dforgottenallaboutthepeopleincloaksuntilhepassedagroupofthemnext to thebaker’s.He eyed themangrily ashepassed.Hedidn’t knowwhy,buttheymadehimuneasy.Thisbunchwerewhisperingexcitedly,too,andhe couldn’t see a single collecting tin. It was on his way back past them,clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a fewwords ofwhat theyweresaying.

“ThePotters,that’sright,that’swhatIheard—”

“—yes,theirson,Harry—” Mr.Dursley stoppeddead.Fear floodedhim.He lookedbackat the

whisperersasifhewantedtosaysomethingtothem,butthoughtbetterofit.Hedashedbackacrosstheroad,hurrieduptohisoffice,snappedathis

secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone, and had almost finisheddialinghishomenumberwhenhechangedhismind.Heput the receiverbackdown and stroked his mustache, thinking…no, he was being stupid. Potterwasn’t such an unusual name. He was sure there were lots of people calledPotterwhohadasoncalledHarry.Cometothinkofit,hewasn’tevensurehisnephewwas calledHarry. He’d never even seen the boy. Itmight have beenHarvey.OrHarold.Therewasnopoint inworryingMrs.Dursley; shealwaysgotsoupsetatanymentionofhersister.Hedidn’tblameher—ifhe’dhadasisterlikethat…butallthesame,thosepeopleincloaks.…

Hefounditalothardertoconcentrateondrillsthatafternoonandwhenheleftthebuildingatfiveo’clock,hewasstillsoworriedthathewalkedstraightintosomeonejustoutsidethedoor.

“Sorry,”hegrunted,asthetinyoldmanstumbledandalmostfell.Itwasa few seconds beforeMr.Dursley realized that themanwaswearing a violetcloak.Hedidn’tseematallupsetatbeingalmostknockedtotheground.Onthecontrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice thatmadepassersbystare,“Don’tbesorry,mydearsir,fornothingcouldupsetmetoday! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muggles likeyourselfshouldbecelebrating,thishappy,happyday!”

AndtheoldmanhuggedMr.Dursleyaroundthemiddleandwalkedoff.

Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by acompletestranger.HealsothoughthehadbeencalledaMuggle,whateverthatwas.Hewasrattled.Hehurriedtohiscarandsetoffforhome,hopinghewasimaginingthings,whichhehadneverhopedbefore,becausehedidn’tapproveofimagination.

Ashepulledintothedrivewayofnumberfour,thefirstthinghesaw—anditdidn’timprovehismood—wasthetabbycathe’dspottedthatmorning.Itwasnowsittingonhisgardenwall.Hewassureitwasthesameone;ithadthesamemarkingsarounditseyes.

“Shoo!”saidMr.Dursleyloudly.Thecatdidn’tmove.Itjustgavehimasternlook.Wasthisnormalcat

behavior?Mr.Dursleywondered.Tryingtopullhimselftogether,helethimselfintothehouse.Hewasstilldeterminednottomentionanythingtohiswife.

Mrs.Dursleyhadhadanice,normalday.Shetoldhimoverdinnerall

about Mrs. Next Door’s problems with her daughter and how Dudley hadlearnedanewword(“Won’t!”).Mr.Dursleytriedtoactnormally.WhenDudleyhadbeenputtobed,hewentintothelivingroomintimetocatchthelastreportontheeveningnews:

“Andfinally,bird-watcherseverywherehavereportedthatthenation’sowlshavebeenbehavingveryunusuallytoday.Althoughowlsnormallyhuntatnightandarehardlyeverseenindaylight,therehavebeenhundredsofsightingsof these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable toexplain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern.” Thenewscaster allowed himself a grin. “Most mysterious. And now, over to JimMcGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight,Jim?”

“Well,Ted,”saidtheweatherman,“Idon’tknowaboutthat,butit’snotonly theowls thathavebeenactingoddly today.ViewersasfarapartasKent,Yorkshire,andDundeehavebeenphoningintotellmethatinsteadoftherainIpromisedyesterday, they’vehadadownpourofshootingstars!PerhapspeoplehavebeencelebratingBonfireNightearly—it’snotuntilnextweek,folks!ButIcanpromiseawetnighttonight.”

Mr.Dursleysatfrozeninhisarmchair.ShootingstarsalloverBritain?Owlsflyingbydaylight?Mysteriouspeopleincloaksallovertheplace?Andawhisper,awhisperaboutthePotters.…

Mrs.Dursleycameintothelivingroomcarryingtwocupsoftea.Itwasnogood.He’dhavetosaysomethingtoher.Heclearedhisthroatnervously.“Er—Petunia,dear—youhaven’theardfromyoursisterlately,haveyou?”

Ashehadexpected,Mrs.Dursleylookedshockedandangry.Afterall,theynormallypretendedshedidn’thaveasister.

“No,”shesaidsharply.“Why?” “Funnystuffon thenews,”Mr.Dursleymumbled.“Owls…shooting

stars…andtherewerealotoffunny-lookingpeopleintowntoday.…”“So?”snappedMrs.Dursley. “Well, I just thought…maybe…it was something to do with…you

know…hercrowd.”Mrs.Dursleysippedherteathroughpursedlips.Mr.Dursleywondered

whether he dared tell her he’d heard the name “Potter.”He decided he didn’tdare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, “Their son — he’d be aboutDudley’sagenow,wouldn’the?”

“Isupposeso,”saidMrs.Dursleystiffly.“What’shisnameagain?Howard,isn’tit?”“Harry.Nasty,commonname,ifyouaskme.”

“Oh,yes,”saidMr.Dursley,hisheartsinkinghorribly.“Yes, Iquiteagree.”

Hedidn’tsayanotherwordonthesubjectastheywentupstairstobed.While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom,Mr. Dursley crept to the bedroomwindowandpeereddown into the frontgarden.Thecatwas still there. ItwasstaringdownPrivetDriveasthoughitwerewaitingforsomething.

Washeimaginingthings?CouldallthishaveanythingtodowiththePotters?Ifitdid...ifitgotoutthattheywererelatedtoapairof—well,hedidn’tthinkhecouldbearit.

TheDursleysgot intobed.Mrs.Dursley fell asleepquicklybutMr.Dursleylayawake,turningitalloverinhismind.Hislast,comfortingthoughtbefore he fell asleepwas that even if thePotterswere involved, therewas noreasonforthemtocomenearhimandMrs.Dursley.ThePottersknewverywellwhatheandPetuniathoughtaboutthemandtheirkind....Hecouldn’tseehowheand Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on — heyawnedandturnedover—itcouldn’taffectthem.…

Howverywronghewas.Mr.Dursleymighthavebeendriftingintoanuneasysleep,butthecat

onthewalloutsidewasshowingnosignofsleepiness.Itwassittingasstillasastatue,itseyesfixedunblinkinglyonthefarcornerofPrivetDrive.Itdidn’tsomuchasquiverwhenacardoorslammedonthenextstreet,norwhentwoowlsswoopedoverhead.Infact,itwasnearlymidnightbeforethecatmovedatall.

Amanappearedonthecornerthecathadbeenwatching,appearedsosuddenly and silently you’d have thought he’d just popped out of the ground.Thecat’stailtwitchedanditseyesnarrowed.

NothinglikethismanhadeverbeenseenonPrivetDrive.Hewastall,thin,andveryold,judgingbythesilverofhishairandbeard,whichwerebothlongenoughtotuckintohisbelt.Hewaswearinglongrobes,apurplecloakthatswept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light,bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nosewas very longandcrooked,asthoughithadbeenbrokenatleasttwice.Thisman’snamewasAlbusDumbledore.

AlbusDumbledoredidn’tseemtorealizethathehadjustarrivedinastreet where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He wasbusyrummaginginhiscloak,lookingforsomething.Buthedidseemtorealizehewasbeingwatched,becausehelookedupsuddenlyatthecat,whichwasstillstaringathimfromtheotherendofthestreet.Forsomereason,thesightofthecatseemedtoamusehim.Hechuckledandmuttered,“Ishouldhaveknown.”

Hefoundwhathewaslookingforinhisinsidepocket.Itseemedtobea

silvercigarettelighter.Heflickeditopen,helditupintheair,andclickedit.Thenearest street lampwent outwith a little pop.He clicked it again— the nextlamp flickered into darkness.Twelve times he clicked thePut-Outer, until theonlylightsleftonthewholestreetweretwotinypinpricksinthedistance,whichwere the eyes of the catwatching him. If anyone looked out of theirwindownow,evenbeady-eyedMrs.Dursley,theywouldn’tbeabletoseeanythingthatwashappeningdownonthepavement.DumbledoreslippedthePut-Outerbackinsidehis cloak and set off down the street towardnumber four,wherehe satdown on thewall next to the cat.He didn’t look at it, but after amoment hespoketoit.

“Fancyseeingyouhere,ProfessorMcGonagall.”Heturnedtosmileatthetabby,butithadgone.Insteadhewassmiling

at a rather severe-lookingwomanwhowaswearing squareglasses exactly theshapeofthemarkingsthecathadhadarounditseyes.She,too,waswearingacloak, anemeraldone.Herblackhairwasdrawn into a tightbun.She lookeddistinctlyruffled.

“Howdidyouknowitwasme?”sheasked.“MydearProfessor,I’veneverseenacatsitsostiffly.” “You’d be stiff if you’d been sitting on a brickwall all day,” said

ProfessorMcGonagall.“Allday?Whenyoucouldhavebeencelebrating?Imusthavepasseda

dozenfeastsandpartiesonmywayhere.”ProfessorMcGonagallsniffedangrily.“Ohyes,I’vecelebrating,allright,”shesaidimpatiently.“You’dthink

they’d be a bit more careful, but no —even the Muggles have noticedsomething’s going on. Itwas on their news.” She jerked her head back at theDursleys’ dark living-room window. “I heard it. Flocks of owls…shootingstars…Well, they’re not completely stupid. They were bound to noticesomething.ShootingstarsdowninKent—I’llbetthatwasDedalusDiggle.Heneverhadmuchsense.”

“Youcan’tblamethem,”saidDumbledoregently.“We’vehadpreciouslittletocelebrateforelevenyears.”

“I know that,” said ProfessorMcGonagall irritably. “But that’s noreasontoloseourheads.Peoplearebeingdownrightcareless,outonthestreetsinbroaddaylight,notevendressedinMuggleclothes,swappingrumors.”

She threw a sharp, sideways glance atDumbledore here, as thoughhopinghewasgoingtotellhersomething,buthedidn’t,soshewenton.“Afinethingitwouldbeif,ontheverydayYou-Know-Whoseemstohavedisappearedat last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone,

Dumbledore?” “It certainly seems so,” said Dumbledore. “We have much to be

thankfulfor.Wouldyoucareforalemondrop?”“Awhat?”“Alemondrop.They’reakindofMugglesweetI’mratherfondof.” “No, thank you,” said ProfessorMcGonagall coldly, as though she

didn’tthinkthiswasthemomentforlemondrops.“AsIsay,evenifYou-Know-Whohasgone—”

“MydearProfessor,surelyasensiblepersonlikeyourselfcancallhimby his name?All this ‘You-Know-Who’ nonsense— for eleven years I havebeen trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort.”Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking twolemondrops, seemednot tonotice.“Itallgets soconfusing ifwekeepsaying‘You-Know-Who.’ I have never seen any reason to be frightened of sayingVoldemort’sname.”

“I know you haven’t, said Professor McGonagall, sounding halfexasperated, half admiring. “But you’re different. Everyone knows you’re theonlyoneYou-Know-oh,allright,Voldemort,wasfrightenedof.”

“Youflatterme,”saidDumbledorecalmly.“VoldemorthadpowersIwillneverhave.”

“Onlybecauseyou’retoo—well—nobletousethem.”“It’sluckyit’sdark.Ihaven’tblushedsomuchsinceMadamPomfrey

toldmeshelikedmynewearmuffs.”ProfessorMcGonagallshotasharplookatDumbledoreandsaid“The

owls are nothing next to the rumors that are flying around. You know whatthey’resaying?Aboutwhyhe’sdisappeared?Aboutwhatfinallystoppedhim?”

It seemed thatProfessorMcGonagall had reached thepoint shewasmost anxious to discuss, the real reason she had beenwaiting on a cold, hardwallallday,forneitherasacatnorasawomanhadshefixedDumbledorewithsuchapiercingstareasshedidnow.Itwasplainthatwhatever“everyone”wassaying, shewas not going to believe it untilDumbledore told her itwas true.Dumbledore,however,waschoosinganotherlemondropanddidnotanswer.

“What they’re saying,” shepressedon,“is that lastnightVoldemortturnedupinGodric’sHollow.HewenttofindthePotters.TherumoristhatLilyandJamesPotterare—are—thatthey’re—dead.”

Dumbledorebowedhishead.ProfessorMcGonagallgasped. “LilyandJames…Ican’tbelieveit…Ididn’twanttobelieveit…Oh,

Albus…” Dumbledore reachedoutandpattedheron theshoulder.“Iknow…I

know…”hesaidheavily.ProfessorMcGonagall’svoicetrembledasshewenton.“That’snotall.

They’re saying he tried to kill the Potter’s son, Harry. But he couldn’t. Hecouldn’tkillthatlittleboy.Nooneknowswhy,orhow,butthey’resayingthatwhenhecouldn’tkillHarryPotter,Voldemort’spowersomehowbroke—andthat’swhyhe’sgone.”

Dumbledorenoddedglumly. “It’s — it’s true?” faltered Professor McGonagall. “After all he’s

done…all the people he’s killed…he couldn’t kill a little boy? It’s justastounding…ofall the things tostophim…buthowin thenameofheavendidHarrysurvive?”

“Wecanonlyguess.”saidDumbledore.“Wemayneverknow.”ProfessorMcGonagallpulledoutalacehandkerchiefanddabbedather

eyesbeneathherspectacles.Dumbledoregaveagreatsniffashetookagoldenwatchfromhispocketandexaminedit.Itwasaveryoddwatch.Ithadtwelvehands but no numbers; instead, little planetsweremoving around the edge. Itmust have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in hispocketandsaid,“Hagrid’slate.IsupposeitwashewhotoldyouI’dbehere,bytheway?”

“Yes,”saidProfessorMcGonagall.“AndIdon’tsupposeyou’regoingtotellmewhyyou’rehere,ofallplaces?”

“I’vecometobringHarrytohisauntanduncle.They’retheonlyfamilyhehasleftnow.”

“Youdon’tmean–youcan’tmeanthepeoplewholivehere?”criedProfessor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four.“Dumbledore—youcan’t.I’vebeenwatchingthemallday.Youcouldn’tfindtwopeoplewhoarelesslikeus.Andthey’vegotthisson—Isawhimkickinghismother all thewayup the street, screaming for sweets.HarryPotter comeandlivehere!”

“It’s thebestplace forhim,”saidDumbledore firmly.“Hisauntandunclewill be able to explain everything to himwhen he’s older. I’vewrittenthemaletter.”

“Aletter?”repeatedProfessorMcGonagallfaintly,sittingbackdownonthewall. “Really,Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter?These people will never understand him! He’ll be famous — a legend — Iwouldn’tbesurprisedif todaywasknownasHarryPotterdayinthefuture—therewillbebookswrittenaboutHarry—everychildinourworldwillknowhisname!”

“Exactly.”saidDumbledore,lookingveryseriouslyoverthetopofhis

half-moonglasses.“Itwouldbeenoughtoturnanyboy’shead.Famousbeforehecanwalkandtalk!Famousforsomethinghewon’tevenremember!Canyouseehowmuchbetteroffhe’llbe,growingupawayfromallthatuntilhe’sreadytotakeit?”

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind,swallowed,and thensaid,“Yes—yes,you’reright,ofcourse.Buthowis theboy getting here, Dumbledore?” She eyed his cloak suddenly as though shethoughthemightbehidingHarryunderneathit.

“Hagrid’sbringinghim.”“Youthinkit—wise—totrustHagridwithsomethingasimportantas

this?”“IwouldtrustHagridwithmylife,”saidDumbledore. “I’m not saying his heart isn’t in the right place,” said Professor

McGonagallgrudgingly,“butyoucan’tpretendhe’snotcareless.Hedoestendto—whatwasthat?”

A low rumbling soundhadbroken the silence around them. It grewsteadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of aheadlight; itswelled toaroaras theyboth lookedupat thesky—andahugemotorcyclefelloutoftheairandlandedontheroadinfrontofthem.

Ifthemotorcyclewashuge,itwasnothingtothemansittingastrideit.Hewasalmosttwiceastallasanormalmanandatleastfivetimesaswide.Helookedsimplytoobigtobeallowed,andsowild—longtanglesofbushyblackhairandbeardhidmostofhisface,hehadhandsthesizeoftrashcanlids,andhisfeetintheirleatherbootswerelikebabydolphins.Inhisvast,musculararmshewasholdingabundleofblankets.

“Hagrid,”saidDumbledore,soundingrelieved.“Atlast.Andwheredidyougetthatmotorcycle?”

“Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir,” said the giant, climbingcarefullyoffthemotorcycleashespoke.“YoungSiriusBlacklentittome.I’vegothim,sir.”

“Noproblems,werethere?” “No, sir—housewas almost destroyed, but I got himout all right

before theMuggles started swarmin’ around. He fell asleep as wewas flyin’overBristol.”

DumbledoreandProfessorMcGonagallbentforwardoverthebundleofblankets. Inside, just visible,was a baby boy, fast asleep.Under a tuft of jet-blackhairoverhisforeheadtheycouldseeacuriouslyshapedcut,likeaboltoflightning.

“Isthatwhere—?”whisperedProfessorMcGonagall.

“Yes,”saidDumbledore.“He’llhavethatscarforever.”“Couldn’tyoudosomethingaboutit,Dumbledore?” “Even if I could, Iwouldn’t. Scars can come in handy. I have one

myself abovemy left knee that is a perfectmap of theLondonUnderground.Well—givehimhere,Hagrid—we’dbettergetthisoverwith.”

Dumbledore tookHarry inhisarmsand turned toward theDursleys’house.

“CouldI—couldIsaygood-byetohim,sir?”askedHagrid.Hebenthis great, shaggy head overHarry and gave himwhatmust have been a veryscratchy,whiskerykiss.Then,suddenly,Hagrid letoutahowl likeawoundeddog.

“Shhh!”hissedProfessorMcGonagall,“You’llwaketheMuggles!”“S-s-sorry,”sobbedHagrid,takingoutalarge,spottedhandkerchiefand

buryinghisfaceinit.“ButIc-c-can’tstandit—Lilyan’Jamesdead—an’poorlittleHarryoffterlivewithMuggles—”

“Yes,yes,it’sallverysad,butgetagriponyourself,Hagrid,orwe’llbefound,”ProfessorMcGonagallwhispered,pattingHagridgingerlyonthearmasDumbledoresteppedoverthelowgardenwallandwalkedtothefrontdoor.He laidHarry gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked itinsideHarry’sblankets,andthencamebacktotheothertwo.Forafullminutethethreeofthemstoodandlookedatthelittlebundle;Hagrid’sshouldersshook,Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usuallyshonefromDumbledore’seyesseemedtohavegoneout.

“Well,” said Dumbledore finally, “that’s that. We’ve no businessstayinghere.Wemayaswellgoandjointhecelebrations.”

“Yeah,”saidHagridinaverymuffledvoice,“I’llbetakin’Siriushisbikeback.G’night,ProfessorMcGonagall—ProfessorDumbledore,sir.”

Wipinghisstreamingeyesonhisjacketsleeve,Hagridswunghimselfontothemotorcycleandkickedtheengineintolife;witharoaritroseintotheairandoffintothenight.

“I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall,” saidDumbledore,noddingtoher.ProfessorMcGonagallblewhernoseinreply.

Dumbledoreturnedandwalkedbackdownthestreet.OnthecornerhestoppedandtookoutthesilverPut-Outer.Heclickeditonce,andtwelveballsoflightspedbacktotheirstreetlampssothatPrivetDriveglowedsuddenlyorangeandhecouldmakeoutatabbycatslinkingaroundthecornerattheotherendofthestreet.Hecouldjustseethebundleofblanketsonthestepofnumberfour.

“Goodluck,Harry,”hemurmured.He turnedonhisheelandwithaswishofhiscloak,hewasgone.

AbreezeruffledtheneathedgesofPrivetDrive,whichlaysilentandtidyundertheinkysky,theverylastplaceyouwouldexpectastonishingthingstohappen.HarryPotterrolledoverinsidehisblanketswithoutwakingup.Onesmallhandclosedontheletterbesidehimandheslepton,notknowinghewasspecial,notknowinghewasfamous,notknowinghewouldbewokeninafewhours’timebyMrs.Dursley’sscreamassheopenedthefrontdoortoputoutthemilk bottles, nor that hewould spend the next fewweeks being prodded andpinched by his cousin Dudley....He couldn’t know that at this very moment,peoplemeetinginsecretalloverthecountrywereholdinguptheirglassesandsayinginhushedvoices:“ToHarryPotter—theboywholived!”

HP1-HarryPotterandtheSorcerer'sStone

CHAPTERTWO

THEVANISHINGGLASS

NearlytenyearshadpassedsincetheDursleyshadwokenuptofindtheirnephewon the front step,butPrivetDrivehadhardly changedat all.The sunrose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on theDursleys’ frontdoor; it crept into their living room,whichwasalmostexactlythesameasithadbeenonthenightwhenMr.Dursleyhadseenthatfatefulnewsreportabout theowls.Only thephotographson themantelpiece really showedhowmuch time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures ofwhat looked like a large pinkbeachballwearingdifferent-coloredbonnets—butDudleyDursleywasno longerababy,andnowthephotographsshowedalarge blond boy riding his first bicycle, on a carousel at the fair, playing acomputer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother. Theroomheldnosignatallthatanotherboylivedinthehouse,too.

YetHarryPotterwasstillthere,asleepatthemoment,butnotforlong.HisAuntPetuniawasawakeanditwashershrillvoicethatmadethefirstnoiseoftheday.

“Up!Getup!Now!”Harrywokewithastart.Hisauntrappedonthedooragain.“Up!”shescreeched.Harryheardherwalkingtowardthekitchenand

thenthesoundofthefryingpanbeingputonthestove.Herolledontohisbackand tried to remember thedreamhehadbeenhaving. Ithadbeenagoodone.Therehadbeena flyingmotorcycle in it.Hehada funnyfeelinghe’dhad thesamedreambefore.

Hisauntwasbackoutsidethedoor.“Areyouupyet?”shedemanded.“Nearly,”saidHarry.“Well,getamoveon,Iwantyoutolookafterthebacon.Anddon’tyou

dareletitburn,IwanteverythingperfectonDuddy’sbirthday.”Harrygroaned.“Whatdidyousay?”hisauntsnappedthroughthedoor.“Nothing,nothing…” Dudley’sbirthday—howcouldhehaveforgotten?Harrygotslowly

outofbedandstartedlookingforsocks.Hefoundapairunderhisbedand,afterpullingaspideroffoneofthem,putthemon.Harrywasusedtospiders,because

thecupboardunderthestairswasfullofthem,andthatwaswhereheslept.Whenhewasdressedhewentdownthehallintothekitchen.Thetable

wasalmosthiddenbeneathallDudley’sbirthdaypresents. It lookedas thoughDudley had gotten the new computer he wanted, not to mention the secondtelevisionandtheracingbike.ExactlywhyDudleywantedaracingbikewasamysterytoHarry,asDudleywasveryfatandhatedexercise—unlessofcourseitinvolvedpunchingsomebody.Dudley’sfavoritepunchingbagwasHarry,buthecouldn’toftencatchhim.Harrydidn’tlookit,buthewasveryfast.

Perhaps it had something to dowith living in a dark cupboard, butHarryhadalwaysbeensmallandskinnyforhisage.Helookedevensmallerandskinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes ofDudley’s,andDudleywasaboutfourtimesbiggerthanhewas.Harryhadathinface,knobblyknees,blackhair, andbrightgreeneyes.Hewore roundglassesheld together with a lot of Scotch tape because of all the times Dudley hadpunchedhimonthenose.TheonlythingHarrylikedabouthisownappearancewasaverythinscaronhisforeheadthatwasshapedlikeaboltoflightning.Hehadhad it as long ashe could remember, and the first questionhe could everrememberaskinghisAuntPetuniawashowhehadgottenit.

“Inthecarcrashwhenyourparentsdied,”shehadsaid.“Anddon’taskquestions.”

Don’taskquestions—thatwasthefirstruleforaquietlifewiththeDursleys.

UncleVernonenteredthekitchenasHarrywasturningoverthebacon.“Combyourhair!”hebarked,bywayofamorninggreeting.Aboutonceaweek,UncleVernonlookedoverthetopofhisnewspaper

andshoutedthatHarryneededahaircut.Harrymusthavehadmorehaircutsthantherestoftheboysinhisclassputtogether,butitmadenodifference,hishairsimplygrewthatway—allovertheplace.

HarrywasfryingeggsbythetimeDudleyarrivedinthekitchenwithhismother.DudleylookedalotlikeUncleVernon.Hehadalargepinkface,notmuchneck,small,wateryblueeyes,and thickblondhair that laysmoothlyonhisthick,fathead.AuntPetuniaoftensaidthatDudleylookedlikeababyangel—HarryoftensaidthatDudleylookedlikeapiginawig.

Harryputtheplatesofeggandbacononthetable,whichwasdifficultastherewasn’tmuchroom.Dudley,meanwhile,wascountinghispresents.Hisfacefell.

“Thirty-six,”hesaid,lookingupathismotherandfather.“That’stwolessthanlastyear.”

“Darling,youhaven’tcountedAuntieMarge’spresent, see, it’shere

underthisbigonefromMummyandDaddy.”“Allright,thirty-seventhen,”saidDudley,goingredintheface.Harry,

whocouldseeahugeDudleytantrumcomingon,beganwolfingdownhisbaconasfastaspossibleincaseDudleyturnedthetableover.

AuntPetuniaobviouslyscenteddanger,too,becauseshesaidquickly,“Andwe’ll buy you another two presentswhilewe’re out today.How’s that,popkin?Twomorepresents.Isthatallright”

Dudleythoughtforamoment.Itlookedlikehardwork.Finallyhesaidslowly,“SoI’llhavethirty...thirty...”

“Thirty-nine,sweetums,”saidAuntPetunia. “Oh.”Dudleysatdownheavilyandgrabbed thenearestparcel. “All

rightthen.”UncleVernonchuckled. “Little tykewantshismoney’sworth, just likehis father. ’Attaboy,

Dudley!”HeruffledDudley’shair.AtthatmomentthetelephonerangandAuntPetuniawenttoanswerit

whileHarryandUncleVernonwatchedDudleyunwraptheracingbike,avideocamera,aremotecontrolairplane,sixteennewcomputergames,andaVCR.HewasrippingthepaperoffagoldwristwatchwhenAuntPetuniacamebackfromthetelephonelookingbothangryandworried.

“Badnews,Vernon,”shesaid.“Mrs.Figg’sbrokenherleg.Shecan’ttakehim.”ShejerkedherheadinHarry’sdirection.

Dudley’smouthfellopeninhorror,butHarry’sheartgavealeap.EveryyearonDudley’sbirthday,hisparentstookhimandafriendoutfortheday,toadventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or themovies.Everyyear,HarrywasleftbehindwithMrs.Figg, amadold ladywho lived twostreets away.Harryhated it there. Thewhole house smelled of cabbage andMrs. Figgmade himlookatphotographsofallthecatsshe’deverowned.

“Nowwhat?”saidAuntPetunia,lookingfuriouslyatHarryasthoughhe’dplannedthis.HarryknewheoughttofeelsorrythatMrs.Figghadbrokenherleg,butitwasn’teasywhenheremindedhimselfitwouldbeawholeyearbeforehehadtolookatTibbles,Snowy,Mr.Paws,andTuftyagain.

“WecouldphoneMarge,”UncleVernonsuggested.“Don’tbesilly,Vernon,shehatestheboy.” TheDursleysoftenspokeaboutHarry like this,as thoughhewasn’t

there — or rather, as though he was something very nasty that couldn’tunderstandthem,likeaslug.

“Whataboutwhat’s-her-name,yourfriend—Yvonne?”“OnvacationinMajorca,”snappedAuntPetunia.

“Youcouldjustleavemehere,”Harryputinhopefully(he’dbeabletowatchwhathewantedontelevisionforachangeandmaybeevenhaveagoonDudley’scomputer).

AuntPetunialookedasthoughshe’djustswallowedalemon.“Andcomebackandfindthehouseinruins?”shesnarled.“Iwon’tblowupthehouse,”saidHarry,buttheyweren’tlistening.“Isupposewecouldtakehimtothezoo,”saidAuntPetuniaslowly,“…

andleavehiminthecar.…”“Thatcar’snew,he’snotsittinginitalone.…” Dudleybegantocryloudly.Infact,hewasn’treallycrying—ithad

beenyearssincehe’dreallycried—butheknewthatifhescreweduphisfaceandwailed,hismotherwouldgivehimanythinghewanted.

“Dinky Duddydums, don’t cry, Mummy won’t let him spoil yourspecialday!”shecried,flingingherarmsaroundhim.

“I…don’t…want…him…t-t-to come!”Dudley yelled between huge,pretend sobs. “He always sp-spoils everything!” He shot Harry a nasty grinthroughthegapinhismother’sarms.

Justthen,thedoorbellrang—“Oh,goodLord,they’rehere!”saidAuntPetunia frantically—and amoment later,Dudley’s best friend,PiersPolkiss,walked inwithhismother.Pierswasascrawnyboywitha face likea rat.Hewasusuallytheonewhoheldpeople’sarmsbehindtheirbackswhileDudleyhitthem.Dudleystoppedpretendingtocryatonce.

Halfanhourlater,Harry,whocouldn’tbelievehisluck,wassittinginthebackoftheDursleys’carwithPiersandDudley,onthewaytothezooforthefirsttimeinhislife.Hisauntandunclehadn’tbeenabletothinkofanythingelsetodowithhim,butbeforethey’dleft,UncleVernonhadtakenHarryaside.

“I’mwarningyou,”hehadsaid,puttinghislargepurplefacerightupclosetoHarry’s,“I’mwarningyounow,boy—anyfunnybusiness,anythingatall—andyou’llbeinthatcupboardfromnowuntilChristmas.”

“I’mnotgoingtodoanything,”saidHarry,“honestly…”ButUncleVernondidn’tbelievehim.Nooneeverdid. Theproblemwas,strangethingsoftenhappenedaroundHarryandit

wasjustnogoodtellingtheDursleyshedidn’tmakethemhappen. Once, Aunt Petunia, tired of Harry coming back from the barbers

lookingasthoughhehadn’tbeenatall,hadtakenapairofkitchenscissorsandcuthishairsoshorthewasalmostbaldexceptforhisbangs,whichsheleft“tohidethathorriblescar.”DudleyhadlaughedhimselfsillyatHarry,whospentasleeplessnightimaginingschoolthenextday,wherehewasalreadylaughedatforhisbaggyclothesandtapedglasses.Nextmorning,however,hehadgotten

uptofindhishairexactlyasithadbeenbeforeAuntPetuniahadsheareditoffHehadbeengivenaweekinhiscupboardforthis,eventhoughhehadtriedtoexplainthathecouldn’texplainhowithadgrownbacksoquickly.

Another time, Aunt Petunia had been trying to force him into arevoltingoldsweaterofDudley’s(brownwithorangepuffballs).Thehardershetried to pull it over his head, the smaller it seemed to become, until finally itmighthavefittedahandpuppet,butcertainlywouldn’tfitHarry.AuntPetuniahaddecideditmusthaveshrunkinthewashand,tohisgreatrelief,Harrywasn’tpunished.

Ontheotherhand,he’dgottenintoterribletroubleforbeingfoundonthe roofof the school kitchens.Dudley’sganghadbeen chasinghimasusualwhen,asmuchtoHarry’ssurpriseasanyoneelse’s,therehewassittingonthechimney. The Dursleys had received a very angry letter from Harry’sheadmistresstellingthemHarryhadbeenclimbingschoolbuildings.Butallhe’dtried to do (as he shouted at Uncle Vernon through the locked door of hiscupboard)wasjumpbehindthebigtrashcansoutsidethekitchendoors.Harrysupposedthatthewindmusthavecaughthiminmid-jump.

But today,nothingwasgoing togowrong. ItwasevenworthbeingwithDudleyandPierstobespendingthedaysomewherethatwasn’tschool,hiscupboard,orMrs.Figg’scabbage-smellinglivingroom.

Whilehedrove,UncleVernoncomplainedtoAuntPetunia.Helikedtocomplainaboutthings:peopleatwork,Harry,thecouncil,Harry,thebank,andHarrywerejustafewofhisfavoritesubjects.Thismorning,itwasmotorcycles.

“…roaring along likemaniacs, the young hoodlums,” he said, as amotorcycleovertookthem.

“Ihadadreamaboutamotorcycle,”saidHarry,rememberingsuddenly.“Itwasflying.”

Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned rightaround in his seat and yelled at Harry, his face like a gigantic beet with amustache:“MOTORCYCLESDON’TFLY!”

DudleyandPierssniggered.“Iknowtheydon’t,”saidHarry.“Itwasonlyadream.” But he wished he hadn’t said anything. If there was one thing the

Dursleys hated evenmore than his asking questions, it was his talking aboutanythingacting inaway itshouldn’t,nomatter if itwas inadreamorevenacartoon—theyseemedtothinkhemightgetdangerousideas.

ItwasaverysunnySaturdayandthezoowascrowdedwithfamilies.TheDursleysboughtDudleyandPierslargechocolateicecreamsattheentranceandthen,becausethesmilingladyinthevanhadaskedHarrywhathewanted

before theycouldhurryhimaway, theyboughthimacheap lemon icepop. Itwasn’tbad,either,Harrythought,lickingitastheywatchedagorillascratchingitsheadwholookedremarkablylikeDudley,exceptthatitwasn’tblond.

Harryhadthebestmorninghe’dhadinalongtime.Hewascarefultowalk a littlewayapart from theDursleys so thatDudley andPiers,whowerestartingtogetboredwiththeanimalsbylunchtime,wouldn’tfallbackontheirfavoritehobbyofhittinghim.Theyateinthezoorestaurant,andwhenDudleyhadatantrumbecausehisknickerbockerglorydidn’thaveenoughicecreamontop,UncleVernonboughthimanotheroneandHarrywasallowedtofinishthefirst.

Harryfelt,afterward,thatheshouldhaveknownitwasalltoogoodtolast.

Afterlunchtheywenttothereptilehouse.Itwascoolanddarkinthere,with litwindows all along thewalls.Behind theglass, all sorts of lizards andsnakeswere crawling and slithering over bits ofwood and stone.Dudley andPierswanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick,man-crushing pythons.Dudleyquickly found the largest snake in theplace. Itcouldhavewrapped itsbodytwicearoundUncleVernon’scarandcrusheditintoatrashcan—butatthemomentitdidn’tlookinthemood.Infact,itwasfastasleep.

Dudley stoodwith his nose pressed against the glass, staring at theglisteningbrowncoils.

“Makeitmove,”hewhinedathisfather.UncleVernontappedontheglass,butthesnakedidn’tbudge.

“Doitagain,”Dudleyordered.UncleVernonrappedtheglasssmartlywithhisknuckles,butthesnakejustsnoozedon.

“Thisisboring,”Dudleymoaned.Heshuffledaway.Harrymovedinfrontofthetankandlookedintentlyatthesnake.He

wouldn’t have been surprised if it had died of boredom itself—no companyexceptstupidpeopledrummingtheirfingersontheglasstryingtodisturbitallday long. Itwasworse than having a cupboard as a bedroom,where the onlyvisitorwasAuntPetuniahammeringonthedoortowakeyouup;atleasthegottovisittherestofthehouse.

The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, itraiseditsheaduntilitseyeswereonalevelwithHarry’s.

Itwinked. Harry stared. Then he looked quickly around to see if anyonewas

watching.Theyweren’t.Helookedbackatthesnakeandwinked,too.ThesnakejerkeditsheadtowardUncleVernonandDudley,thenraised

itseyestotheceiling.ItgaveHarryalookthatsaidquiteplainly:

“Igetthatallthetime.”“Iknow,”Harrymurmuredthroughtheglass,thoughhewasn’tsurethe

snakecouldhearhim.“Itmustbereallyannoying.”Thesnakenoddedvigorously.“Wheredoyoucomefrom,anyway?”Harryasked.Thesnakejabbeditstailatalittlesignnexttotheglass.Harrypeeredat

it.BoaConstrictor,Brazil.“Wasitnicethere?”TheboaconstrictorjabbeditstailatthesignagainandHarryreadon:

This specimen was bred in the zoo. “Oh, I see — so you’ve never been toBrazil?”

Asthesnakeshookitshead,adeafeningshoutbehindHarrymadebothof them jump. “DUDLEY!MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THISSNAKE!YOUWON’TBELIEVEWHATIT’SDOING!”

Dudleycamewaddlingtowardthemasfastashecould.“Outoftheway,you,”hesaid,punchingHarryintheribs.Caughtby

surprise,Harryfellhardontheconcretefloor.Whatcamenexthappenedsofastnoonesawhowithappened—onesecond,PiersandDudleywereleaningrightupclosetotheglass,thenext,theyhadleaptbackwithhowlsofhorror.

Harrysatupandgasped; theglassfrontof theboaconstrictor’s tankhadvanished.Thegreat snakewas uncoiling itself rapidly, slitheringout ontothefloor.Peoplethroughoutthereptilehousescreamedandstartedrunningfortheexits.

As the snake slid swiftly past him,Harry could have sworn a low,hissingvoicesaid,“Brazil,hereIcome.…Thanksss,amigo.”

Thekeeperofthereptilehousewasinshock.“Buttheglass,”hekeptsaying,“wheredidtheglassgo?”ThezoodirectorhimselfmadeAuntPetuniaacupofstrong,sweettea

whileheapologizedoverandoveragain.PiersandDudleycouldonlygibber.AsfarasHarryhadseen,thesnakehadn’tdoneanythingexceptsnapplayfullyattheirheelsasitpassed,butbythetimetheywereallbackinUncleVernon’scar,Dudleywastellingthemhowithadnearlybittenoffhisleg,whilePierswasswearingithadtriedtosqueezehimtodeath.Butworstofall,forHarryatleast,wasPierscalmingdownenough to say, “Harrywas talking to it,weren’tyou,Harry?”

UncleVernonwaited until Pierswas safely out of the house beforestartingonHarry.Hewassoangryhecouldhardlyspeak.Hemanagedtosay,“Go— cupboard— stay—nomeals,” before he collapsed into a chair, and

AuntPetuniahadtorunandgethimalargebrandy.

Harry lay in his dark cupboardmuch later, wishing he had a watch. Hedidn’tknowwhattimeitwasandhecouldn’tbesuretheDursleyswereasleepyet.Untiltheywere,hecouldn’trisksneakingtothekitchenforsomefood.

He’dlivedwiththeDursleysalmosttenyears,tenmiserableyears,aslongashecouldremember,eversincehe’dbeenababyandhisparentshaddiedin thatcarcrash.Hecouldn’t rememberbeing in thecarwhenhisparentshaddied. Sometimes, when he strained his memory during long hours in hiscupboard,hecameupwithastrangevision:ablindingflashofgreenlightandaburning pain on his forehead. This, he supposed, was the crash, though hecouldn’timaginewhereallthegreenlightcamefrom.Hecouldn’trememberhisparentsatall.Hisauntanduncleneverspokeaboutthem,andofcoursehewasforbiddentoaskquestions.Therewerenophotographsoftheminthehouse.

Whenhehadbeenyounger,Harryhaddreamedanddreamedofsomeunknown relation coming to take him away, but it had never happened; theDursleyswerehisonlyfamily.Yetsometimeshethought(ormaybehoped)thatstrangers in the street seemed to knowhim.Very strange strangers theywere,too.Atinymaninaviolet tophathadbowedtohimoncewhileoutshoppingwithAuntPetuniaandDudley.AfteraskingHarryfuriouslyifheknewtheman,AuntPetuniahadrushedthemoutoftheshopwithoutbuyinganything.Awild-lookingoldwomandressedallingreenhadwavedmerrilyathimonceonabus.Abaldmaninaverylongpurplecoathadactuallyshakenhishandinthestreettheotherdayandthenwalkedawaywithoutaword.TheweirdestthingaboutallthesepeoplewasthewaytheyseemedtovanishthesecondHarrytriedtogetacloserlook.

Atschool,Harryhadnoone.EverybodyknewthatDudley’sganghatedthatoddHarryPotter inhisbaggyoldclothesandbrokenglasses,andnobodylikedtodisagreewithDudley’sgang.

HP1-HarryPotterandtheSorcerer'sStone

CHAPTERTHREE

LETTERSFROMNOONE

TheescapeoftheBrazilianboaconstrictorearnedHarryhislongest-everpunishment.Bythetimehewasallowedoutofhiscupboardagain,thesummerholidays had started and Dudley had already broken his new video camera,crashed his remote control airplane, and, first time out on his racing bike,knockeddownoldMrs.FiggasshecrossedPrivetDriveonhercrutches.

Harrywasgladschoolwasover,buttherewasnoescapingDudley’sgang, who visited the house every single day. Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, andGordonwereallbigandstupid,butasDudleywasthebiggestandstupidestofthe lot, he was the leader. The rest of them were all quite happy to join inDudley’sfavoritesport:HarryHunting.

ThiswaswhyHarryspentasmuchtimeaspossibleoutofthehouse,wanderingaroundandthinkingabouttheendoftheholidays,wherehecouldseeatinyrayofhope.WhenSeptembercamehewouldbegoingoff tosecondaryschooland,forthefirsttimeinhislife,hewouldn’tbewithDudley.Dudleyhadbeen accepted at Uncle Vernon’s old private school, Smeltings. Piers Polkisswasgoingtheretoo.Harry,ontheotherhand,wasgoingtoStonewallHigh,thelocalpublicschool.Dudleythoughtthiswasveryfunny.

“Theystuffpeople’sheadsdownthetoiletthefirstdayatStonewall,”hetoldHarry.“Wanttocomeupstairsandpractice?”

“No, thanks,” saidHarry. “The poor toilet’s never had anything ashorribleasyourheaddownit—itmightbesick.”Thenheran,beforeDudleycouldworkoutwhathe’dsaid.

One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy hisSmeltings uniform, leavingHarry atMrs. Figg’s.Mrs. Figgwasn’t as bad asusual. It turnedoutshe’dbrokenher legtrippingoveroneofhercats,andshedidn’tseemquiteasfondofthemasbefore.SheletHarrywatchtelevisionandgavehimabitof chocolatecake that tastedas thoughshe’dhad it for severalyears.

Thatevening,Dudleyparadedaroundthelivingroomforthefamilyinhis brand-new uniform. Smeltings’ boys wore maroon tailcoats, orangeknickerbockers, and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobblysticks,usedforhittingeachotherwhiletheteachersweren’t looking.Thiswassupposedtobegoodtrainingforlaterlife.

AshelookedatDudleyinhisnewknickerbockers,UncleVernonsaidgrufflythatitwastheproudestmomentofhislife.AuntPetuniaburstintotearsand said she couldn’t believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins, he looked sohandsomeandgrown-up.Harrydidn’ttrusthimselftospeak.Hethoughttwoofhisribsmightalreadyhavecrackedfromtryingnottolaugh.

***There was a horrible smell in the kitchen the next morning when Harry

wentinforbreakfast.Itseemedtobecomingfromalargemetaltubinthesink.He went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked like dirty ragsswimmingingraywater.

“What’sthis?”heaskedAuntPetunia.Herlipstightenedastheyalwaysdidifhedaredtoaskaquestion.

“Yournewschooluniform,”shesaid.Harrylookedinthebowlagain.“Oh,”hesaid,“Ididn’trealizeithadtobesowet.” “Don’t be stupid,” snapped Aunt Petunia. “I’m dyeing some of

Dudley’sold thingsgrayforyou.It’ll lookjust likeeveryoneelse’swhenI’vefinished.”

Harryseriouslydoubted this,but thought itbestnot toargue.Hesatdownatthetableandtriednottothinkabouthowhewasgoingtolookonhisfirst day at Stonewall High— like hewaswearing bits of old elephant skin,probably.

DudleyandUncleVernoncamein,bothwithwrinklednosesbecauseofthe smell fromHarry’s new uniform.UncleVernon opened his newspaper asusual andDudleybangedhisSmelting stick,whichhe carried everywhere, onthetable.

Theyheardtheclickofthemailslotandflopoflettersonthedoormat.“Getthemail,Dudley,”saidUncleVernonfrombehindhispaper.“MakeHarrygetit.”“Getthemail,Harry.”“MakeDudleygetit.”“PokehimwithyourSmeltingstick,Dudley.”HarrydodgedtheSmeltingstickandwenttogetthemail.Threethings

lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon’s sister Marge, who wasvacationingontheIsleofWight,abrownenvelopethatlookedlikeabill,and—aletterforHarry.

Harrypickeditupandstaredatit,hishearttwanginglikeagiantelasticband.Noone,ever,inhiswholelife,hadwrittentohim.Whowould?Hehadnofriends,nootherrelatives—hedidn’tbelongtothelibrary,sohe’dnevereven

got rude notes asking for books back. Yet here it was, a letter, addressed soplainlytherecouldbenomistake:

Mr.H.PotterTheCupboardundertheStairs4PrivetDriveLittleWhingingSurrey

Theenvelopewasthickandheavy,madeofyellowishparchment,andtheaddresswaswritteninemerald-greenink.Therewasnostamp.

Turningtheenvelopeover,hishandtrembling,Harrysawapurplewaxsealbearingacoatofarms;alion,aneagle,abadger,andasnakesurroundingalargeletterH.

“Hurryup,boy!”shoutedUncleVernonfromthekitchen.“Whatareyoudoing,checkingforletterbombs?”Hechuckledathisownjoke.

Harrywentback to thekitchen, still staring at his letter.HehandedUncleVernonthebillandthepostcard,satdown,andslowlybegantoopentheyellowenvelope.

UncleVernonrippedopenthebill,snortedindisgust,andflippedoverthepostcard.

“Marge’sill,”heinformedAuntPetunia.“Ateafunnywhelk.…”“Dad!”saidDudleysuddenly.“Dad,Harry’sgotsomething!”Harrywasonthepointofunfoldinghisletter,whichwaswrittenonthe

sameheavyparchment as the envelope,when itwas jerked sharply out of hishandbyUncleVernon.

“That’smine!”saidHarry,tryingtosnatchitback.“Who’dbewritingtoyou?”sneeredUncleVernon,shakingtheletter

openwithonehandandglancingat it.His facewent from red togreen fasterthan a set of traffic lights.And it didn’t stop there.Within seconds itwas thegrayishwhiteofoldporridge.

“P-P-Petunia!”hegasped.Dudleytriedtograbthelettertoreadit,butUncleVernonheldithigh

out of his reach. Aunt Petunia took it curiously and read the first line. For amomentitlookedasthoughshemightfaint.Sheclutchedherthroatandmadeachokingnoise.

“Vernon!Ohmygoodness—Vernon!” They staredat eachother, seeming tohave forgotten thatHarry and

Dudleywerestillintheroom.Dudleywasn’tusedtobeingignored.HegavehisfatherasharptapontheheadwithhisSmeltingstick.

“Iwanttoreadthatletter,”hesaidloudly.“Iwanttoreadit,”saidHarryfuriously,“asit’smine.”“Getout,bothofyou,”croakedUncleVernon,stuffingtheletterback

insideitsenvelope.Harrydidn’tmove.“IWANTMYLETTER!”heshouted.“Letmeseeit!”demandedDudley.“OUT!”roaredUncleVernon,andhetookbothHarryandDudleyby

the scruffs of their necks and threw them into the hall, slamming the kitchendoorbehindthem.HarryandDudleypromptlyhadafuriousbutsilentfightoverwhowould listen at the keyhole;Dudleywon, soHarry, his glasses danglingfrom one ear, lay flat on his stomach to listen at the crack between door andfloor.

“Vernon,”AuntPetuniawassayinginaquiveringvoice,“lookattheaddress— how could they possibly know where he sleeps? You don’t thinkthey’rewatchingthehouse?”

“Watching— spying— might be following us,” muttered UncleVernonwildly.

“Butwhatshouldwedo,Vernon?Shouldwewriteback?Tellthemwedon’twant—”

HarrycouldseeUncleVernon’sshinyblackshoespacingupanddownthekitchen.

“No,”hesaidfinally.“No,we’llignoreit.Iftheydon’tgetananswer…Yes,that’sbest…wewon’tdoanything…”

“But—”“I’mnothavingoneinthehouse,Petunia!Didn’tweswearwhenwe

tookhiminwe’dstampoutthatdangerousnonsense?”

That eveningwhenhe got back fromwork,UncleVernondid somethinghe’dneverdonebefore;hevisitedHarryinhiscupboard.

“Where’s my letter?” said Harry, the moment Uncle Vernon hadsqueezedthroughthedoor.“Who’swritingtome?”

“No one. It was addressed to you bymistake,” said Uncle Vernonshortly.“Ihaveburnedit.”

“Itwasnotamistake,”saidHarryangrily,“ithadmycupboardonit.”“SILENCE!”yelledUncleVernon,andacoupleofspidersfellfromthe

ceiling.Hetookafewdeepbreathsandthenforcedhisfaceintoasmile,whichlookedquitepainful.

“Er—yes,Harry—aboutthiscupboard.YourauntandIhavebeen

thinking…you’rereallygettingabitbigforit…wethinkitmightbeniceifyoumovedintoDudley’ssecondbedroom.

“Why?”saidHarry. “Don’t ask questions!” snapped his uncle. “Take this stuff upstairs,

now.” TheDursleys’househad fourbedrooms:one forUncleVernonand

AuntPetunia,oneforvisitors(usuallyUncleVernon’ssister,Marge),onewhereDudleyslept,andonewhereDudleykeptallthetoysandthingsthatwouldn’tfitintohisfirstbedroom.ItonlytookHarryonetripupstairstomoveeverythingheowned from the cupboard to this room. He sat down on the bed and staredaroundhim.Nearlyeverythinginherewasbroken.Themonth-oldvideocamerawaslyingontopofasmall,workingtankDudleyhadoncedrivenoverthenextdoorneighbor’sdog;inthecornerwasDudley’sfirst-evertelevisionset,whichhe’d put his foot throughwhen his favorite programhad been canceled; therewasalargebirdcage,whichhadonceheldaparrotthatDudleyhadswappedatschoolforarealairrifle,whichwasuponashelfwiththeendallbentbecauseDudley had sat on it. Other shelves were full of books. They were the onlythingsintheroomthatlookedasthoughthey’dneverbeentouched.

Fromdownstairscame thesoundofDudleybawlingathismother, Idon’twanthiminthere…Ineedthatroom…makehimgetout...”

Harrysighedandstretchedoutonthebed.Yesterdayhe’dhavegivenanythingtobeuphere.Todayhe’dratherbebackinhiscupboardwiththatletterthanupherewithoutit.

Nextmorningatbreakfast,everyonewasratherquiet.Dudleywasinshock.He’d screamed, whacked his father with his Smelting stick, been sick onpurpose,kickedhismother,andthrownhistortoisethroughthegreenhouseroof,and he still didn’t have his room back. Harry was thinking about this timeyesterdayandbitterlywishinghe’dopenedtheletter in thehall.UncleVernonandAuntPetuniakeptlookingateachotherdarkly.

Whenthemailarrived,UncleVernon,whoseemedtobetryingtobenicetoHarry,madeDudleygoandgetit.TheyheardhimbangingthingswithhisSmeltingstickallthewaydownthehall.Thenheshouted,“There’sanotherone!‘Mr.H.Potter,TheSmallestBedroom,4PrivetDrive—’”

Withastrangledcry,UncleVernonleaptfromhisseatandrandownthe hall, Harry right behind him. Uncle Vernon had to wrestle Dudley to theground to get the letter from him, which was made difficult by the fact thatHarryhadgrabbedUncleVernonaroundtheneckfrombehind.Afteraminuteofconfusedfighting,inwhicheveryonegothitalotbytheSmeltingstick,Uncle

Vernon straightenedup, gasping for breath,withHarry’s letter clutched inhishand.

“Gotoyourcupboard—Imean,yourbedroom,”hewheezedatHarry.“Dudley—go—justgo.”

Harrywalkedroundandroundhisnewroom.Someoneknewhehadmovedoutofhiscupboardandtheyseemedtoknowhehadn’treceivedhisfirstletter. Surely thatmeant they’d try again?And this time he’dmake sure theydidn’tfail.Hehadaplan.

Therepairedalarmclockrangatsixo’clockthenextmorning.Harryturnedit off quickly and dressed silently. He mustn’t wake the Dursleys. He stoledownstairswithoutturningonanyofthelights.

HewasgoingtowaitforthepostmanonthecornerofPrivetDriveandget thelettersfornumberfourfirst.Hishearthammeredashecreptacrossthedarkhalltowardthefrontdoor—

“AAAAARRRGH!”Harryleaptintotheair;he’dtroddenonsomethingbigandsquashyon

thedoormat—somethingalive!LightsclickedonupstairsandtohishorrorHarryrealizedthatthebig,

squashysomethinghadbeenhisuncle’s face.UncleVernonhadbeen lyingatthefootofthefrontdoorinasleepingbag,clearlymakingsurethatHarrydidn’tdoexactlywhathe’dbeen trying todo.HeshoutedatHarry forabouthalfanhourandthentoldhimtogoandmakeacupoftea.Harryshuffledmiserablyoffinto the kitchen and by the time he got back, themail had arrived, right intoUncleVernon’slap.Harrycouldseethreelettersaddressedingreenink.

“Iwant—”hebegan,butUncleVernonwas tearing the letters intopiecesbeforehiseyes.

UncleVernondidn’tgotoworkthatday.Hestayedathomeandnailedupthemailslot.

“See,”heexplained toAuntPetunia throughamouthfulofnails,“iftheycan’tdeliverthemthey’lljustgiveup.”

“I’mnotsurethat’llwork,Vernon.” “Oh,thesepeople’smindsworkinstrangeways,Petunia,they’renot

likeyouandme,”saidUncleVernon,tryingtoknockinanailwiththepieceoffruitcakeAuntPetuniahadjustbroughthim.

OnFriday,nolessthantwelvelettersarrivedforHarry.Astheycouldn’tgothroughthemailslot theyhadbeenpushedunder thedoor,slottedthroughthesides, and a few even forced through the small window in the downstairs

bathroom.UncleVernonstayedathomeagain.Afterburningalltheletters,hegot

out a hammer and nails and boarded up the cracks around the front and backdoorssonoonecouldgoout.Hehummed“TiptoeThrough theTulips”asheworked,andjumpedatsmallnoises.

OnSaturday,thingsbegantogetoutofhand.Twenty-fourletterstoHarryfound their way into the house, rolled up and hidden inside each of the twodozeneggsthattheirveryconfusedmilkmanhadhandedAuntPetuniathroughthe living roomwindow.WhileUncleVernonmade furious telephonecalls tothepostofficeandthedairytryingtofindsomeonetocomplainto,AuntPetuniashreddedthelettersinherfoodprocessor.

“Whoonearthwantstotalktoyouthisbadly?”DudleyaskedHarryinamazement.

***OnSundaymorning,UncleVernonsatdownatthebreakfasttablelooking

tiredandratherill,buthappy. “No post on Sundays,” he reminded them cheerfully as he spread

marmaladeonhisnewspapers,“nodamnletterstoday—”Somethingcamewhizzingdownthekitchenchimneyashespokeand

caughthimsharplyonthebackofthehead.Nextmoment,thirtyorfortyletterscamepeltingout of the fireplace likebullets.TheDursleysducked, butHarryleaptintotheairtryingtocatchone—

“Out!OUT!” UncleVernonseizedHarryaround thewaistand threwhim into the

hall. When Aunt Petunia and Dudley had run out with their arms over theirfaces, Uncle Vernon slammed the door shut. They could hear the letters stillstreamingintotheroom,bouncingoffthewallsandfloor.

“Thatdoesit,”saidUncleVernon,tryingtospeakcalmlybutpullinggreattuftsoutofhismustacheatthesametime.“Iwantyouallbackhereinfiveminutes ready to leave. We’re going away. Just pack some clothes. Noarguments!”

He looked sodangerouswithhalfhismustachemissing thatnoonedared argue. Ten minutes later they had wrenched their way through theboarded-updoorsandwereinthecar,speedingtowardthehighway.Dudleywassnifflinginthebackseat;hisfatherhadhithimroundtheheadforholdingthemupwhilehetriedtopackhistelevision,VCR,andcomputerinhissportsbag.

Theydrove.Andtheydrove.EvenAuntPetuniadidn’tdareaskwheretheyweregoing.EverynowandthenUncleVernonwouldtakeasharpturnand

driveintheoppositedirectionforawhile.“Shake’emoff…shake’emoff,”hewouldmutterwheneverhedidthis. They didn’t stop to eat or drink all day. By nightfall Dudley was

howling.He’dneverhadsuchabaddayinhislife.Hewashungry,he’dmissedfive television programs he’d wanted to see, and he’d never gone so longwithoutblowingupanalienonhiscomputer.

UncleVernon stoppedat last outside agloomy-lookinghotelon theoutskirts of a big city. Dudley and Harry shared a room with twin beds anddamp, musty sheets. Dudley snored but Harry stayed awake, sitting on thewindowsill,staringdownatthelightsofpassingcarsandwondering.…

Theyatestalecornflakesandcoldtinnedtomatoesontoastforbreakfastthenextday.Theyhadjustfinishedwhentheownerofthehotelcameovertotheirtable.

“’Scuseme, but is one of youMr. H. Potter? Only I got about an’undredoftheseatthefrontdesk.”

Sheheldupalettersotheycouldreadthegreeninkaddress:

Mr.H.PotterRoom17RailviewHotelCokeworth

HarrymadeagrabfortheletterbutUncleVernonknockedhishandoutoftheway.Thewomanstared.

“I’lltakethem,”saidUncleVernon,standingupquicklyandfollowingherfromthediningroom.

***“Wouldn’t it be better just to go home, dear?” Aunt Petunia suggested

timidly,hourslater,butUncleVernondidn’tseemtohearher.Exactlywhathewaslookingfor,noneofthemknew.Hedrovethemintothemiddleofaforest,gotout, lookedaround,shookhishead,gotback in thecar,andoff theywentagain.Thesamethinghappenedinthemiddleofaplowedfield,halfwayacrossasuspensionbridge,andatthetopofamultilevelparkinggarage.

“Daddy’sgonemad,hasn’the?”DudleyaskedAuntPetuniadullylatethatafternoon.UncleVernonhadparkedatthecoast,lockedthemallinsidethecar,anddisappeared.

It started to rain. Great drops beat on the roof of the car. Dudleysniveled.

“It’sMonday,”hetoldhismother.“TheGreatHumberto’sontonight.Iwanttostaysomewherewithatelevision.”

Monday.ThisremindedHarryofsomething.IfitwasMonday—andyou could usually count on Dudley to know the days the week, because oftelevision—thentomorrow,Tuesday,wasHarry’seleventhbirthday.Ofcourse,hisbirthdayswereneverexactlyfun—lastyear,theDursleyshadgivenhimacoat hanger and a pair ofUncleVernon’s old socks.Still, youweren’t eleveneveryday.

UncleVernonwasbackandhewassmiling.Hewasalsocarryingalong, thinpackage anddidn’t answerAuntPetuniawhen she askedwhathe’dbought.

“Foundtheperfectplace!”hesaid.“Comeon!Everyoneout!” Itwasverycoldoutside thecar.UncleVernonwaspointingatwhat

lookedlikealargerockwayoutatsea.Perchedontopoftherockwasthemostmiserable little shackyou could imagine.One thingwas certain, therewasnotelevisioninthere.

“Stormforecastfortonight!”saidUncleVernongleefully,clappinghishandstogether.“Andthisgentleman’skindlyagreedtolendushisboat!”

Atoothlessoldmancameamblinguptothem,pointing,witharatherwickedgrin,atanoldrowboatbobbingintheiron-graywaterbelowthem.

“I’vealreadygotussomerations,”saidUncleVernon,“soallaboard!”Itwasfreezingintheboat.Icyseasprayandraincreptdowntheirnecks

and a chilly wind whipped their faces. After what seemed like hours theyreachedtherock,whereUncleVernon,slippingandsliding,ledthewaytothebroken-downhouse.

The inside was horrible; it smelled strongly of seaweed, the windwhistledthroughthegapsinthewoodenwalls,andthefireplacewasdampandempty.Therewereonlytworooms.

UncleVernon’srationsturnedouttobeabagofchipseachandfourbananas. He tried to start a fire but the empty chip bags just smoked andshriveledup.

“Coulddowithsomeofthoselettersnow,eh?”hesaidcheerfully. Hewas inaverygoodmood.Obviouslyhe thoughtnobodystooda

chanceofreachingthemhereinastormtodelivermail.Harryprivatelyagreed,thoughthethoughtdidn’tcheerhimupatall.

Asnightfell,thepromisedstormblewuparoundthem.Sprayfromthehighwaves splattered thewalls of the hut and a fiercewind rattled the filthywindows. Aunt Petunia found a few moldy blankets in the second room andmadeupabedforDudleyonthemoth-eatensofa.SheandUncleVernonwent

offtothelumpybednextdoor,andHarrywaslefttofindthesoftestbitoffloorhecouldandtocurlupunderthethinnest,mostraggedblanket.

Thestormragedmoreandmoreferociouslyasthenightwenton.Harrycouldn’t sleep. He shivered and turned over, trying to get comfortable, hisstomachrumblingwithhunger.Dudley’ssnoresweredrownedbythelowrollsofthunderthatstartednearmidnight.ThelighteddialofDudley’swatch,whichwasdanglingovertheedgeofthesofaonhisfatwrist,toldHarryhe’dbeelevenintenminutes’time.Helayandwatchedhisbirthdayticknearer,wonderingiftheDursleyswouldrememberatall,wonderingwheretheletterwriterwasnow.

Fiveminutestogo.Harryheardsomethingcreakoutside.Hehopedtheroofwasn’tgoingtofallin,althoughhemightbewarmerifitdid.Fourminutestogo.MaybethehouseinPrivetDrivewouldbesofullofletterswhentheygotbackthathe’dbeabletostealonesomehow.

Threeminutestogo.Wasthatthesea,slappinghardontherocklikethat?And (twominutes togo)whatwas that funny crunchingnoise?Was therockcrumblingintothesea?

Oneminutetogoandhe’dbeeleven.Thirtyseconds...twenty…ten…nine—maybehe’dwakeDudleyup,justtoannoyhim—three…two…one…

BOOM.ThewholeshackshiveredandHarrysatboltupright,staringatthedoor.

Someonewasoutside,knockingtocomein.

HP1-HarryPotterandtheSorcerer'sStone

CHAPTERFOUR

THEKEEPEROFTHEKEYS

BOOM.Theyknockedagain.Dudleyjerkedawake.“Where’sthecannon?”hesaidstupidly.TherewasacrashbehindthemandUncleVernoncameskiddinginto

theroom.Hewasholdingarifleinhishands–nowtheyknewwhathadbeeninthelong,thinpackagehehadbroughtwiththem.

“Who’sthere?”heshouted.“Iwarnyou—I’marmed!”Therewasapause.Then—SMASH!Thedoorwashitwithsuchforcethatitswungcleanoffitshingesand

withadeafeningcrashlandedflatonthefloor. Agiantofamanwasstanding in thedoorway.His facewasalmost

completelyhiddenbyalong,shaggymaneofhairandawild,tangledbeard,butyoucouldmakeouthiseyes,glintinglikeblackbeetlesunderallthehair.

Thegiantsqueezedhiswayintothehut,stoopingsothathisheadjustbrushedtheceiling.Hebentdown,pickedupthedoor,andfittediteasilybackintoitsframe.Thenoiseofthestormoutsidedroppedalittle.Heturnedtolookatthemall.

“Couldn’t make us a cup o’ tea, could yeh? It’s not been an easyjourney.…”

HestrodeovertothesofawhereDudleysatfrozenwithfear.“Budgeup,yehgreatlump,”saidthestranger. Dudley squeaked and ran to hide behind his mother, who was

crouching,terrified,behindUncleVernon.“An’here’sHarry!”saidthegiant. Harrylookedupintothefierce,wild,shadowyfaceandsawthat the

beetleeyeswerecrinkledinasmile.“Las’timeIsawyou,youwasonlyababy,”saidthegiant.“Yehlooka

lotlikeyerdad,butyeh’vegotyermom’seyes.”UncleVernonmadeafunnyraspingnoise.“Idemandthatyouleaveatonce,sir!”hesaid.“Youarebreakingand

entering!”“Ah,shutup,Dursley,yehgreatprune,”saidthegiant;hereachedover

thebackofthesofa,jerkedthegunoutofUncleVernon’shands,bentitintoa

knotaseasilyasifithadbeenmadeofrubber,andthrewitintoacorneroftheroom.

UncleVernonmadeanotherfunnynoise, likeamousebeingtroddenon.

“Anyway—Harry,”saidthegiant,turninghisbackontheDursleys,“averyhappybirthday to yeh.Got summat fer yehhere— Imighta sat on it atsomepoint,butit’lltasteallright.”

From an inside pocket of his black overcoat he pulled a slightlysquashedbox.Harryopeneditwithtremblingfingers.Insidewasalarge,stickychocolatecakewithHappyBirthdayHarrywrittenonitingreenicing.

Harrylookedupatthegiant.Hemeanttosaythankyou,butthewordsgotlostonthewaytohismouth,andwhathesaidinsteadwas,“Whoareyou?”

Thegiantchuckled.“True,Ihaven’tintroducedmeself.RubeusHagrid,KeeperofKeysand

GroundsatHogwarts.”HeheldoutanenormoushandandshookHarry’swholearm.“Whataboutthatteathen,eh?”hesaid,rubbinghishandstogether.“I’d

notsaynotersummatstrongerifyeh’vegotit,mind.”Hiseyesfellontheemptygratewiththeshriveledchipbagsinitandhe

snorted.Hebentdownoverthefireplace;theycouldn’tseewhathewasdoingbutwhenhedrewbackasecondlater,therewasaroaringfirethere.ItfilledthewholedamphutwithflickeringlightandHarryfeltthewarmthwashoverhimasthoughhe’dsunkintoahotbath.

Thegiantsatbackdownonthesofa,whichsaggedunderhisweight,andbegantakingallsortsofthingsoutofthepocketsofhiscoat:acopperkettle,asquashypackageofsausages,apoker,a teapot,severalchippedmugs,andabottleofsomeamberliquidthathetookaswigfrombeforestartingtomaketea.Soonthehutwasfullofthesoundandsmellofsizzlingsausage.Nobodysaidathingwhilethegiantwasworking,butasheslidthefirstsixfat,juicy,slightlyburnt sausages from the poker, Dudley fidgeted a little. Uncle Vernon saidsharply,“Don’ttouchanythinghegivesyou,Dudley.”

Thegiantchuckleddarkly.“Yergreatpuddin’ofasondon’needfattenin’anymore,Dursley,don’

worry.” He passed the sausages toHarry,whowas so hungry he had never

tasted anything sowonderful, but he still couldn’t take his eyes off the giant.Finally,asnobodyseemedabouttoexplainanything,hesaid,“I’msorry,butIstilldon’treallyknowwhoyouare.”

Thegianttookagulpofteaandwipedhismouthwiththebackofhis

hand. “CallmeHagrid,”he said, “everyonedoes.An’ like I toldyeh, I’m

KeeperofKeysatHogwarts—yeh’llknowallaboutHogwarts,o’course.“Er—no,”saidHarry.Hagridlookedshocked.“Sorry,”Harrysaidquickly. “Sorry?”barkedHagrid, turningtostareat theDursleys,whoshrank

backintotheshadows.“It’sthemasshouldbesorry!Iknewyehweren’tgettin’yer letters but I never thought yeh wouldn’t even know abou’ Hogwarts, fercryin’outloud!Didyehneverwonderwhereyerparentslearneditall?”

“Allwhat?”askedHarry.“ALLWHAT?”Hagridthundered.“Nowwaitjus’onesecond!” Hehadleapttohisfeet.Inhisangerheseemedtofillthewholehut.

TheDursleyswerecoweringagainstthewall.“Doyoumeantertellme,”hegrowledattheDursleys,“thatthisboy—

thisboy!—knowsnothin’abou’—aboutANYTHING?”Harrythoughtthiswasgoingabitfar.Hehadbeentoschool,afterall,

andhismarksweren’tbad.“Iknowsomethings,”hesaid.“Ican,youknow,domathandstuff.”ButHagridsimplywavedhishandandsaid,“Aboutourworld,Imean.

Yourworld.Myworld.Yerparents’world.”“Whatworld?”Hagridlookedasifhewasabouttoexplode.“DURSLEY!”heboomed. Uncle Vernon, who had gone very pale, whispered something that

soundedlike“Mimblewimble.”HagridstaredwildlyatHarry.“Butyehmustknowaboutyermomanddad,”hesaid.“Imean,they’re

famous.You’refamous.”“What?My—mymomanddadweren’tfamous,werethey?”“Yehdon’know...yehdon’know....”Hagridranhisfingersthroughhis

hair,fixingHarrywithabewilderedstare.“Yehdon’knowwhatyehare?”hesaidfinally.UncleVernonsuddenlyfoundhisvoice. “Stop!”hecommanded.“Stoprightthere,sir!Iforbidyoutotell the

boyanything!” A braver man than Vernon Dursley would have quailed under the

furious look Hagrid now gave him; when Hagrid spoke, his every syllabletrembledwithrage.

“You never told him? Never told him what was in the letter

Dumbledoreleftferhim?Iwasthere!IsawDumbledoreleaveit,Dursley!An’you’vekeptitfromhimalltheseyears?”

“Keptwhatfromme?”saidHarryeagerly.“STOP!IFORBIDYOU!”yelledUncleVernoninpanic.AuntPetuniagaveagaspofhorror. “Ah, go boil yer heads, both of yeh,” saidHagrid. “Harry—yer a

wizard.”Therewassilenceinsidethehut.Onlytheseaandthewhistlingwind

couldbeheard.“I’mawhat?”gaspedHarry. “Awizard, o’ course,” saidHagrid, sitting back down on the sofa,

which groaned and sank even lower, “an’ a thumpin’ good ‘un, I’d say, onceyeh’vebeentrainedupabit.Withamuman’dadlikeyours,whatelsewouldyehbe?An’Ireckonit’sabou’timeyehreadyerletter.”

Harry stretched out his hand at last to take the yellowish envelope,addressed inemeraldgreen toMr.H.Potter,TheFloor,Hut-on-the-Rock,TheSea.Hepulledouttheletterandread:

HOGWARTSSCHOOLofWITCHCRAFTandWIZARDRY

Headmaster:ALBUSDUMBLEDORE(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme

Mugwump,InternationalConfed.ofWizards)

DearMr.Potter,We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts

SchoolofWitchcraftandWizardry.Pleasefindencloseda listofallnecessarybooksandequipment.

TermbeginsonSeptember1.WeawaityourowlbynolaterthanJuly31.Yourssincerely,

MinervaMcGonagall,DeputyHeadmistress

Questions exploded inside Harry’s head like fireworks and he couldn’tdecide which to ask first. After a few minutes he stammered, “What does itmean,theyawaitmyowl?”

“Gallopin’Gorgons,thatremindsme,”saidHagrid,clappingahandtohisforeheadwithenoughforcetoknockoveracarthorse,andfromyetanother

pocketinsidehisovercoathepulledanowl—areal,live,ratherruffled-lookingowl—alongquill,andarollofparchment.WithhistonguebetweenhisteethhescribbledanotethatHarrycouldreadupsidedown:

DearProfessorDumbledore,GivenHarryhisletter.Takinghimtobuyhisthingstomorrow.Weather’shorrible.Hopeyou’rewell.Hagrid

Hagridrolledupthenote,gaveittotheowl,whichclampeditinitsbeak,wenttothedoor,andthrewtheowloutintothestorm.Thenhecamebackandsatdownasthoughthiswasasnormalastalkingonthetelephone.

Harryrealizedhismouthwasopenandcloseditquickly. “WherewasI?”saidHagrid,butat thatmoment,UncleVernon,still

ashen-facedbutlookingveryangry,movedintothefirelight.“He’snotgoing,”hesaid.Hagridgrunted.“I’dliketerseeagreatMugglelikeyoustophim,”hesaid.“Awhat?”saidHarry,interested.“AMuggle,”saidHagrid,“it’swhatwecallnonmagicfolklikethem.

An’it’syourbadluckyougrewupinafamilyo’thebiggestMugglesIeverlaideyeson.”

“Wesworewhenwetookhiminwe’dputastoptothatrubbish,”saidUncleVernon,“sworewe’dstampitoutofhim!Wizardindeed!”

“Youknew?”saidHarry.“YouknewI’ma—awizard?”“Knew!”shriekedAuntPetuniasuddenly.“Knew!Ofcourseweknew!

Howcouldyounotbe,mydrattedsisterbeingwhatshewas?Oh,shegotaletterjustlikethatanddisappearedofftothat—thatschool—andcamehomeeveryvacationwithherpocketsfulloffrogspawn,turningteacupsintorats.Iwastheonly one who saw her for what she was— a freak! But for mymother andfather,ohno,itwasLilythisandLilythat,theywereproudofhavingawitchinthefamily!”

Shestoppedtodrawadeepbreathandthenwentrantingon.Itseemedshehadbeenwantingtosayallthisforyears.

“ThenshemetthatPotteratschoolandtheyleftandgotmarriedandhadyou,andofcourseIknewyou’dbejustthesame,justasstrange,justas—as—abnormal—and then, ifyouplease, shewentandgotherselfblownupandwegotlandedwithyou!”

Harry had gone verywhite.As soon as he found his voice he said,“Blownup?Youtoldmetheydiedinacarcrash!”

“CAR CRASH!” roared Hagrid, jumping up so angrily that theDursleys scuttled back to their corner. “How could a car crash kill Lily an’JamesPotter?It’sanoutrage!Ascandal!HarryPotternotknowin’hisownstorywheneverykidinourworldknowshisname!”

“Butwhy?Whathappened?”Harryaskedurgently.TheangerfadedfromHagrid’sface.Helookedsuddenlyanxious.“Ineverexpectedthis,”hesaid,inalow,worriedvoice.“Ihadnoidea,

whenDumbledoretoldmetheremightbetroublegettin’holdofyeh,howmuchyehdidn’tknow.Ah,Harry,Idon’knowifI’mtherightpersontertellyeh—butsomeone’sgotta—yehcan’tgooffterHogwartsnotknowin’.”

HethrewadirtylookattheDursleys.“Well,it’sbestyehknowasmuchasIcantellyeh—mind,Ican’ttell

yeheverythin’,it’sagreatmyst’ry,partsofit.…” Hesatdown,staredintothefireforafewseconds,andthensaid,“It

begins,Isuppose,with—withapersoncalled—butit’sincredibleyehdon’tknowhisname,everyoneinourworldknows—”

“Who?”“Well—Idon’likesayin’thenameifIcanhelpit.Noonedoes.”“Whynot?” “Gulpin’ gargoyles, Harry, people are still scared. Blimey, this is

difficult.See, therewas thiswizardwhowent ...bad.Asbadasyoucouldgo.Worse.Worsethanworse.Hisnamewas...”

Hagridgulped,butnowordscameout.“Couldyouwriteitdown?”Harrysuggested. “Nah—can’t spell it.All right—Voldemort. ”Hagrid shuddered.

“Don’makeme say it again.Anyway, this— thiswizard, about twentyyearsagonow,startedlookin’ferfollowers.Got‘em,too—somewereafraid,somejustwanted a bit o’ his power, ‘cause hewas gettin’ himself power, all right.Dark days, Harry. Didn’t know who ter trust, didn’t dare get friendly withstrange wizards or witches…terrible things happened. He was takin’ over.‘Course,somestooduptohim—an’hekilled‘em.Horribly.Oneo’theonlysafeplacesleftwasHogwarts.ReckonDumbledore’stheonlyoneYou-Know-Whowasafraidof.Didn’tdaretrytakin’theschool,notjus’then,anyway.

“Now,yermuman’dadwere asgood awitch an’wizard as I everknew.Headboyan’girlatHogwartsintheirday!Supposethemyst’ryiswhyYou-Know-Whonevertriedtoget‘emonhissidebefore…probablyknewtheyweretoocloseterDumbledoreterwantanythin’terdowiththeDarkSide.

“Maybehethoughthecouldpersuade‘em...maybehejustwanted‘emouttatheway.Allanyoneknowsis,heturnedupinthevillagewhereyouwasallliving,onHalloweentenyearsago.Youwasjustayearold.Hecameteryerhousean’—an’—”

Hagridsuddenlypulledoutaverydirty,spottedhandkerchiefandblewhisnosewithasoundlikeafoghorn.

“Sorry,”hesaid.“Butit’sthatsad—knewyermuman’dad,an’nicerpeopleyehcouldn’tfind—anyway….

“You-Know-Whokilled‘em.An’then—an’thisistherealmyst’ryofthe thing — he tried to kill you, too. Wanted ter make a clean job of it, Isuppose, ormaybe he just liked killin’ by then. But he couldn’t do it. Neverwondered howyou got thatmark on yer forehead?Thatwas no ordinary cut.That’swhatyehgetwhenapowerful,evilcursetouchesyeh—tookcareofyermuman’dadan’yerhouse,even—but itdidn’tworkonyou,an’ that’swhyyerfamous,Harry.Nooneeverlivedafterhedecidedterkill’em,nooneexceptyou, an’ he’d killed some o’ the best witches an’ wizards of the age— theMcKinnons,theBones,thePrewetts—an’youwasonlyababy,an’youlived.”

Somethingverypainfulwasgoingon inHarry’smind.AsHagrid’sstorycametoaclose,hesawagaintheblindingflashofgreenlight,moreclearlythanhehadever remembered itbefore—andherememberedsomethingelse,forthefirsttimeinhislife:ahigh,cold,cruellaugh.

Hagridwaswatchinghimsadly. “Took yeh from the ruined housemyself, onDumbledore’s orders.

Broughtyehterthislot….” “Loadofoldtosh,”saidUncleVernon.Harryjumped;hehadalmost

forgotten that theDursleyswere there.UncleVernoncertainlyseemedtohavegotbackhiscourage.HewasglaringatHagridandhisfistswereclenched.

“Now,you listenhere,boy,”hesnarled,“Iaccept there’s somethingstrangeaboutyou,probablynothingagoodbeatingwouldn’thavecured—andasforall thisaboutyourparents,well, theywereweirdoes,nodenying it,andthe world’s better off without them in my opinion— asked for all they got,gettingmixed up with these wizarding types— just what I expected, alwaysknewthey’dcometoastickyend—”

Butatthatmoment,Hagridleaptfromthesofaanddrewabatteredpinkumbrella from inside his coat. Pointing this atUncleVernon like a sword, hesaid,“I’mwarningyou,Dursley—I’mwarningyou—onemoreword….”

In danger of being speared on the endof an umbrella by a beardedgiant,UncleVernon’scouragefailedagain;heflattenedhimselfagainstthewallandfellsilent.

“That’sbetter,”saidHagrid,breathingheavilyandsittingbackdownonthesofa,whichthistimesaggedrightdowntothefloor.

Harry,meanwhile,stillhadquestionstoask,hundredsofthem.“ButwhathappenedtoVol-,sorry—Imean,You-Know-Who?”“Goodquestion,Harry.Disappeared.Vanished.Samenighthetriedter

killyou.Makesyehevenmorefamous.That’sthebiggestmyst’ry,see…hewasgettin’morean’morepowerful—why’dhego?

“Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he hadenoughhumanleftinhimtodie.Somesayhe’sstilloutthere,bidin’histime,like,butIdon’believeit.Peoplewhowasonhissidecamebackterours.Someof ‘em came outta kinda trances. Don’ reckon they could’ve done if he wascomin’back.

“Mostofusreckonhe’sstillouttheresomewherebutlosthispowers.Tooweak tocarryon. ’Causesomethin’aboutyou finishedhim,Harry.Therewassomethin’goin’onthatnighthehadn’tcountedon—Idunnowhatitwas,noonedoes—butsomethin’aboutyoustumpedhim,allright.”

HagridlookedatHarrywithwarmthandrespectblazinginhiseyes,butHarry, instead of feeling pleased and proud, felt quite sure there had been ahorriblemistake.Awizard?Him?Howcouldhepossiblybe?He’dspenthislifebeingcloutedbyDudley,andbulliedbyAuntPetuniaandUncleVernon;ifhewas really awizard,whyhadn’t theybeen turned intowarty toads every timethey’d tried to lock him in his cupboard? If he’d once defeated the greatestsorcerer in the world, how come Dudley had always been able to kick himaroundlikeafootball?

“Hagrid,”he saidquietly, “I thinkyoumusthavemadeamistake. Idon’tthinkIcanbeawizard.”

Tohissurprise,Hagridchuckled.“Notawizard,eh?Nevermadethingshappenwhenyouwasscaredor

angry?”Harrylookedintothefire.Nowhecametothinkaboutit…everyodd

thingthathadevermadehisauntandunclefuriouswithhimhadhappenedwhenhe,Harry,hadbeenupsetorangry…chasedbyDudley’sgang,hehadsomehowfoundhimselfoutoftheirreach…dreadinggoingtoschoolwiththatridiculoushaircut,he’dmanagedtomakeitgrowback...andtheverylasttimeDudleyhadhit him, hadn’t he got his revenge, without even realizing he was doing it?Hadn’thesetaboaconstrictoronhim?

Harry looked back at Hagrid, smiling, and saw that Hagrid waspositivelybeamingathim.

“See?”saidHagrid.“HarryPotter,notawizard—youwait,you’llbe

rightfamousatHogwarts.”ButUncleVernonwasn’tgoingtogiveinwithoutafight. “Haven’t I told you he’s not going?” he hissed. “He’s going to

StonewallHighandhe’llbegratefulforit.I’vereadthoselettersandheneedsallsortsofrubbish—spellbooksandwandsand—”

“Ifhewantstergo,agreatMugglelikeyouwon’tstophim,”growledHagrid. “Stop Lily an’ James Potter’s son goin’ ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. Hisname’s been down ever since he was born. He’s off ter the finest school ofwitchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and he won’t knowhimself. He’ll be with youngsters of his own sort, fer a change, an’ he’ll beunderthegreatestheadmasterHogwartseverhadAlbusDumbled—”

“I AMNOT PAYING FOR SOMECRACKPOTOLD FOOL TOTEACHHIMMAGICTRICKS!”yelledUncleVernon.

Buthehadfinallygonetoofar.Hagridseizedhisumbrellaandwhirledit over his head, “NEVER —” he thundered, “— INSULT — ALBUS —DUMBLEDORE—IN—FRONT—OF—ME!”

He brought the umbrella swishing down through the air to point atDudley— therewasa flashofviolet light, a sound likea firecracker, a sharpsqueal, and the next second, Dudley was dancing on the spot with his handsclaspedoverhisfatbottom,howlinginpain.Whenheturnedhisbackonthem,Harrysawacurlypig’stailpokingthroughaholeinhistrousers.

UncleVernonroared.PullingAuntPetuniaandDudleyintotheotherroom, he cast one last terrified look at Hagrid and slammed the door behindthem.

Hagridlookeddownathisumbrellaandstrokedhisbeard. “Shouldn’ta lost me temper,” he said ruefully, “but it didn’t work

anyway.Meantterturnhimintoapig,butIsupposehewassomuchlikeapiganywaytherewasn’tmuchleftterdo.”

HecastasidewayslookatHarryunderhisbushyeyebrows.“Begratefulifyehdidn’tmentionthatteranyoneatHogwarts,”hesaid.

“I’m—er—notsupposedterdomagic,strictlyspeakin’.Iwasallowedterdoabitterfollowyehan’getyerletterstoyehan’stuff—oneo’thereasonsIwassokeentertakeonthejob.”

“Whyaren’tyousupposedtodomagic?”askedHarry.“Oh,well—IwasatHogwartsmeselfbutI—er—gotexpelled,ter

tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an’everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper. Great man,Dumbledore.”

“Whywereyouexpelled?”

“It’s gettin’ late andwe’ve got lots ter do tomorrow,” said Hagridloudly.“Gottagetuptertown,getallyerbooksan’that.”

HetookoffhisthickblackcoatandthrewittoHarry. “Youcankipunder that,”hesaid.“Don’mind if itwrigglesabit, I

thinkIstillgotacoupleo’doormiceinoneo’thepockets.”

HP1-HarryPotterandtheSorcerer'sStone

CHAPTERFIVE

DIAGONALLEY

Harrywokeearlythenextmorning.Althoughhecouldtellitwasdaylight,hekepthiseyesshuttight.

“It was a dream, he told himself firmly. “I dreamed a giant calledHagridcame to tellme Iwasgoing toa school forwizards.When IopenmyeyesI’llbeathomeinmycupboard.”

Therewassuddenlyaloudtappingnoise. And there’sAunt Petunia knocking on the door,Harry thought, his

heartsinking.Buthestilldidn’topenhiseyes.Ithadbeensuchagooddream.Tap.Tap.Tap.“Allright,”Harrymumbled,“I’mgettingup.” He satupandHagrid’sheavycoat felloffhim.Thehutwas fullof

sunlight, thestormwasover,Hagridhimselfwasasleepon thecollapsedsofa,and therewasanowl rapping itsclawon thewindow,anewspaperheld in itsbeak.

Harryscrambledtohisfeet,sohappyhefeltasthoughalargeballoonwasswellinginsidehim.Hewentstraighttothewindowandjerkeditopen.TheowlswoopedinanddroppedthenewspaperontopofHagrid,whodidn’twakeup.TheowlthenflutteredontothefloorandbegantoattackHagrid’scoat.

“Don’tdothat.” Harry tried towave theowlout of theway, but it snapped its beak

fiercelyathimandcarriedonsavagingthecoat.“Hagrid!”saidHarryloudly.“There’sanowl—”“Payhim,”Hagridgruntedintothesofa.“What?”“Hewantspayin’ferdeliverin’thepaper.Lookinthepockets.”Hagrid’scoatseemedtobemadeofnothingbutpockets—bunchesof

keys, slugpellets,ballsof string,pepperminthumbugs, teabags...finally,Harrypulledoutahandfulofstrange-lookingcoins.

“GivehimfiveKnuts,”saidHagridsleepily.“Knuts?”“Thelittlebronzeones.”Harrycountedoutfivelittlebronzecoins,andtheowlheldouthisleg

soHarrycouldputthemoneyintoasmallleatherpouchtiedtoit.Thenheflew

offthroughtheopenwindow.Hagridyawnedloudly,satup,andstretched.“Bestbeoff,Harry,lotsterdotoday,gottagetupterLondonan’buy

allyerstuffferschool.”Harrywasturningoverthewizardcoinsandlookingatthem.Hehad

justthoughtofsomethingthatmadehimfeelasthoughthehappyballooninsidehimhadgotapuncture.

“Um—Hagrid?”“Mm?”saidHagrid,whowaspullingonhishugeboots.“Ihaven’tgotanymoney—andyouheardUncleVernonlastnight…

hewon’tpayformetogoandlearnmagic.”“Don’tworryaboutthat,”saidHagrid,standingupandscratchinghis

head.“D’yehthinkyerparentsdidn’tleaveyehanything?”“Butiftheirhousewasdestroyed—”“Theydidn’keeptheirgoldinthehouse,boy!Nah,firststopferusis

Gringotts.Wizards’bank.Haveasausage,they’renotbadcold—an’Iwouldn’saynotehabito’yerbirthdaycake,neither.”

“Wizardshavebanks?”“Justtheone.Gringotts.Runbygoblins.”Harrydroppedthebitofsausagehewasholding.“Goblins?” “Yeah—soyeh’dbemad ter tryan’ rob it, I’ll tellyeh that.Never

messwithgoblins,Harry.Gringottsisthesafestplaceintheworldferanythingyehwantterkeepsafe—‘ceptmaybeHogwarts.Asamattero’fact,IgottavisitGringotts anyway.FerDumbledore.Hogwarts business.”Hagriddrewhimselfupproudly.“Heusuallygetsmeterdoimportantstuffferhim.Fetchin’you—gettin’thingsfromGringotts—knowshecantrustme,see.”

“Goteverythin’?Comeon,then.”HarryfollowedHagridoutontotherock.Theskywasquiteclearnow

andtheseagleamedinthesunlight.TheboatUncleVernonhadhiredwasstillthere,withalotofwaterinthebottomafterthestorm.

“Howdidyougethere?”Harryasked,lookingaroundforanotherboat.“Flew,”saidHagrid.“Flew?”“Yeah—butwe’llgobackinthis.Nots’pposedterusemagicnowI’ve

gotyeh.” Theysettleddownintheboat,HarrystillstaringatHagrid, tryingto

imaginehimflying.“Seemsashameterrow,though,”saidHagrid,givingHarryanotherof

hissidewayslooks.“IfIwaster—er—speedthingsupabit,wouldyehmindnotmentionin’itatHogwarts?”

“Ofcoursenot,”saidHarry,eagertoseemoremagic.Hagridpulledoutthepinkumbrellaagain,tappedittwiceonthesideoftheboat,andtheyspedofftowardland.

“WhywouldyoubemadtotryandrobGringotts?”Harryasked.“Spells—enchantments,”saidHagrid,unfoldinghisnewspaperashe

spoke.“Theysaythere’sdragonsguardin’thehighsecurityvaults.Andthenyehgotta findyerway—Gringotts ishundredsofmilesunderLondon,see.Deepunder theUnderground.Yeh’ddieofhunger tryin’ tergetout,even ifyehdidmanagetergetyerhandsonsummat.”

HarrysatandthoughtaboutthiswhileHagridreadhisnewspaper,theDailyProphet.HarryhadlearnedfromUncleVernonthatpeoplelikedtobeleftalone while they did this, but it was very difficult, he’d never had so manyquestionsinhislife.

“Ministry o’ Magic messin’ things up as usual,” Hagrid muttered,turningthepage.

“There’s aMinistry ofMagic?” Harry asked, before he could stophimself.

“’Course,” saidHagrid. “TheywantedDumbledore ferMinister, o’course, but he’d never leave Hogwarts, so old Cornelius Fudge got the job.Bunglerifevertherewasone.SohepeltsDumbledorewithowlseverymorning,askin’feradvice.”

“ButwhatdoesaMinistryofMagicdo?” “Well, theirmainjobis tokeepitfromtheMugglesthat there’sstill

witchesan’wizardsupan’downthecountry.”“Why?”“Why?Blimey,Harry,everyone’dbewantin’magicsolutionstotheir

problems.Nah,we’rebestleftalone.” At thismoment theboatbumpedgently into theharborwall.Hagrid

foldeduphisnewspaper,andtheyclamberedupthestonestepsontothestreet.PassersbystaredalotatHagridastheywalkedthroughthelittletownto

the station. Harry couldn’t blame them.Not onlywasHagrid twice as tall asanyoneelse,hekeptpointingatperfectlyordinarythingslikeparkingmetersandsayingloudly,“Seethat,Harry?ThingstheseMugglesdreamup,eh?”

“Hagrid,”saidHarry,pantingabitasherantokeepup,“didyousaytherearedragonsatGringotts?”

“Well,sotheysay,”saidHagrid.“Crikey,I’dlikeadragon.”“You’dlikeone?”

“WantedoneeversinceIwasakid—herewego.” They had reached the station. There was a train to London in five

minutes’time.Hagrid,whodidn’tunderstand“Mugglemoney,”ashecalledit,gavethebillstoHarrysohecouldbuytheirtickets.

Peoplestaredmorethaneveronthetrain.Hagridtookuptwoseatsandsatknittingwhatlookedlikeacanary-yellowcircustent.

“Stillgotyerletter,Harry?”heaskedashecountedstitches.Harrytooktheparchmentenvelopeoutofhispocket.“Good,”saidHagrid.“There’salistthereofeverythingyehneed.” Harry unfolded a second piece of paper he hadn’t noticed the night

before,andread:

HOGWARTSSCHOOLofWITCHCRAFTandWIZARDRYUNIFORMFirst-yearstudentswillrequire:1.Threesetsofplainworkrobes(black)2.Oneplainpointedhat(black)fordaywear3.Onepairofprotectivegloves(dragonhideorsimilar)4.Onewintercloak(black,silverfastenings)Pleasenotethatallpupils’clothesshouldcarrynametags

COURSEBOOKSAllstudentsshouldhaveacopyofeachofthefollowing:TheStandardBookofSpells(Grade1)byMirandaGoshawkAHistoryofMagicbyBathildaBagshotMagicalTheorybyAdalbertWafflingABeginners’GuidetoTransfigurationbyEmericSwitchOneThousandMagicalHerbsandFungibyPhyllidaSporeMagicalDraftsandPotionsbyArseniusJiggerFantasticBeastsandWheretoFindThembyNewtScamanderTheDarkForces:AGuidetoSelf-ProtectionbyQuentinTrimble

OTHEREQUIPMENT1wand1cauldron(pewter,standardsize2)1setofglassorcrystalphials1telescopeset1brassscalesStudentsmayalsobringanowlORacatORatoad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOTALLOWEDTHEIROWNBROOMSTICKS

“CanwebuyallthisinLondon?”Harrywonderedaloud.“Ifyehknowwheretogo,”saidHagrid.

HarryhadneverbeentoLondonbefore.AlthoughHagridseemedtoknowwherehewasgoing,hewasobviouslynotusedtogettingthere inanordinaryway. He got stuck in the ticket barrier on the Underground, and complainedloudlythattheseatsweretoosmallandthetrainstooslow.

“Idon’tknowhowtheMugglesmanagewithoutmagic,”hesaidastheyclimbedabroken-downescalatorthatleduptoabustlingroadlinedwithshops.

Hagridwassohugethathepartedthecrowdeasily;allHarryhadtodowas keep close behind him. They passed book shops and music stores,hamburger restaurantsandcinemas,butnowhere that lookedas if it couldsellyou a magic wand. This was just an ordinary street full of ordinary people.Could there really be piles of wizard gold buried miles beneath them?Werethere reallyshops that soldspellbooksandbroomsticks?Might thisnotallbesomehugejokethattheDursleyshadcookedup?IfHarryhadn’tknownthattheDursleyshadnosenseofhumor,hemighthavethoughtso;yetsomehow,eventhougheverythingHagridhadtoldhimsofarwasunbelievable,Harrycouldn’thelptrustinghim.

“Thisisit,”saidHagrid,comingtoahalt,“theLeakyCauldron.It’safamousplace.”

Itwasatiny,grubby-lookingpub.IfHagridhadn’tpointeditout,Harrywouldn’thavenoticed itwas there.Thepeoplehurryingbydidn’tglanceat it.Their eyes slid from the big book shoponone side to the record shopon theother as if they couldn’t see theLeakyCauldron at all. In fact,Harry had themost peculiar feeling that only he and Hagrid could see it. Before he couldmentionthis,Hagridhadsteeredhiminside.

Fora famousplace, itwasverydarkandshabby.Afewoldwomenwere sitting in a corner, drinking tiny glasses of sherry. One of them wassmokingalongpipe.Alittlemaninatophatwastalkingtotheoldbartender,whowasquitebaldandlookedlikeatoothlesswalnut.Thelowbuzzofchatterstoppedwhen theywalked in. Everyone seemed to knowHagrid; theywavedand smiled at him, and the bartender reached for a glass, saying, “The usual,Hagrid?”

“Can’t, Tom, I’monHogwarts business,” saidHagrid, clapping his

greathandonHarry’sshoulderandmakingHarry’skneesbuckle.“GoodLord,”saidthebartender,peeringatHarry,“isthis—canthis

be—?”TheLeakyCauldronhadsuddenlygonecompletelystillandsilent.“Blessmysoul,”whisperedtheoldbartender,“HarryPotter…whatan

honor.”Hehurriedoutfrombehindthebar,rushedtowardHarryandseizedhis

hand,tearsinhiseyes.“Welcomeback,Mr.Potter,welcomeback.”Harrydidn’tknowwhattosay.Everyonewaslookingathim.Theold

womanwiththepipewaspuffingonitwithoutrealizingithadgoneout.Hagridwasbeaming.

Thentherewasagreatscrapingofchairsandthenextmoment,HarryfoundhimselfshakinghandswitheveryoneintheLeakyCauldron.

“DorisCrockford,Mr.Potter,can’tbelieveI’mmeetingyouatlast.”“Soproud,Mr.Potter,I’mjustsoproud.”“Alwayswantedtoshakeyourhand—I’mallofaflutter.”“Delighted,Mr.Potter,justcan’ttellyou,Diggle’sthename,Dedalus

Diggle.”“I’veseenyoubefore!”saidHarry,asDedalusDiggle’stophatfelloff

inhisexcitement.“Youbowedtomeonceinashop.” “Heremembers!”criedDedalusDiggle, lookingaroundateveryone.

“Didyouhearthat?Heremembersme!”Harryshookhandsagainandagain—DorisCrockfordkeptcomingbackformore.

Apaleyoungmanmadehiswayforward,verynervously.Oneofhiseyeswastwitching.

“ProfessorQuirrell!”saidHagrid.“Harry,ProfessorQuirrellwillbeoneofyourteachersatHogwarts.”

“P-P-Potter,”stammeredProfessorQuirrell,graspingHarry’shand,“c-can’tt-tellyouhowp-pleasedIamtomeetyou.”

“Whatsortofmagicdoyouteach,ProfessorQuirrell?”“D-DefenseAgainsttheD-D-DarkArts,”mutteredProfessorQuirrell,

as though he’d rather not think about it. “N-not that you n-need it, eh, P-P-Potter?” He laughed nervously. “You’ll be g-getting all your equipment, Isuppose? I’ve g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself.” Helookedterrifiedattheverythought.

Buttheotherswouldn’tletProfessorQuirrellkeepHarrytohimself.Ittookalmosttenminutestogetawayfromthemall.Atlast,Hagridmanagedtomakehimselfheardoverthebabble.

“Mustgeton—lotsterbuy.Comeon,Harry.”DorisCrockfordshookHarry’shandonelasttime,andHagridledthem

throughthebarandoutintoasmall,walledcourtyard,wheretherewasnothingbutatrashcanandafewweeds.

HagridgrinnedatHarry.“Toldyeh,didn’tI?Toldyehyouwasfamous.EvenProfessorQuirrell

wastremblin’termeetyeh—mindyou,he’susuallytremblin’.”“Ishealwaysthatnervous?” “Oh, yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was

studyin’ outta books but then he took a year off ter get some firsthandexperience....They say he met vampires in the Black Forest, and there was anasty bit o’ trouble with a hag— never been the same since. Scared of thestudents,scaredofhisownsubject—now,where’smeumbrella?”

Vampires?Hags?Harry’s headwas swimming.Hagrid,meanwhile,wascountingbricksinthewallabovethetrashcan.

“Threeup…twoacross…”hemuttered.“Right,standback,Harry.”Hetappedthewallthreetimeswiththepointofhisumbrella. Thebrickhehadtouchedquivered—itwriggled—inthemiddle,a

small hole appeared— it grewwider andwider— a second later theywerefacing an archway large enough even for Hagrid, an archway onto a cobbledstreetthattwistedandturnedoutofsight.

“Welcome,”saidHagrid,“toDiagonAlley.”HegrinnedatHarry’samazement.Theysteppedthroughthearchway.

Harry looked quickly over his shoulder and saw the archway shrink instantlybackintosolidwall.

Thesunshonebrightlyonastackofcauldronsoutsidethenearestshop.Cauldrons— All Sizes— Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver— Self-Stirring—Collapsible,saidasignhangingoverthem.

“Yeah, you’ll be needin’ one,” said Hagrid, “but we gotta get yermoneyfirst.”

Harrywishedhehadabouteightmoreeyes.Heturnedhisheadineverydirectionas theywalkedupthestreet, tryingto lookateverythingatonce: theshops,thethingsoutsidethem,thepeopledoingtheirshopping.Aplumpwomanoutside anApothecarywas shaking her head as they passed, saying, “Dragonliver,seventeenSicklesanounce,they’remad.…”

Alow,softhootingcamefromadarkshopwithasignsayingEeylopsOwlEmporium—Tawny,Screech,Barn,Brown,andSnowy.SeveralboysofaboutHarry’sagehadtheirnosespressedagainstawindowwithbroomsticksinit. “Look,”Harryheardoneof themsay, “thenewNimbusTwoThousand—

fastest ever—” There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes andstrange silver instrumentsHarryhadnever seenbefore,windows stackedwithbarrels of bat spleens and eels’ eyes, totteringpiles of spell books, quills, androllsofparchment,potionbottles,globesofthemoon.…

“Gringotts,”saidHagrid.Theyhadreachedasnowywhitebuildingthattoweredovertheother

little shops. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors,wearing a uniformofscarletandgold,was—

“Yeah,that’sagoblin,”saidHagridquietlyastheywalkedupthewhitestonestepstowardhim.ThegoblinwasaboutaheadshorterthanHarry.Hehadaswarthy,cleverface,apointedbeardand,Harrynoticed,verylongfingersandfeet.Hebowedas theywalked inside.Now theywere facinga secondpairofdoors,silverthistime,withwordsengraveduponthem:

Enter,stranger,buttakeheedOfwhatawaitsthesinofgreed,Forthosewhotake,butdonotearn,Mustpaymostdearlyintheirturn.SoifyouseekbeneathourfloorsAtreasurethatwasneveryours,Thief,youhavebeenwarned,bewareOffindingmorethantreasurethere.

“LikeIsaid,Yeh’dbemadtertryan’robit,”saidHagrid.Apairofgoblinsbowedthemthroughthesilverdoorsandtheywerein

a vastmarble hall.About a hundredmore goblinswere sitting on high stoolsbehindalongcounter,scribblinginlargeledgers,weighingcoinsinbrassscales,examining precious stones through eyeglasses. Therewere toomany doors tocountleadingoffthehall,andyetmoregoblinswereshowingpeopleinandoutofthese.HagridandHarrymadeforthecounter.

“Morning,”saidHagridtoafreegoblin.“We’vecometer takesomemoneyouttaMr.HarryPotter’ssafe.”

“Youhavehiskey,sir?” “Got it here somewhere,” saidHagrid, and he started emptying his

pockets onto the counter, scattering a handful ofmoldy dog biscuits over thegoblin’s book of numbers. The goblin wrinkled his nose. Harry watched thegoblinontheirrightweighingapileofrubiesasbigasglowingcoals.

“Gotit,”saidHagridatlast,holdingupatinygoldenkey.Thegoblinlookedatitclosely.“Thatseemstobeinorder.”

“An’ I’ve also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore,” saidHagrid importantly, throwingouthischest.“It’sabout theYou-Know-What invaultsevenhundredandthirteen.”

Thegoblinreadthelettercarefully.“Verywell,”hesaid,handingitbacktoHagrid,“Iwillhavesomeone

takeyoudowntobothvaults.Griphook!”Griphookwasyetanothergoblin.OnceHagridhadcrammedallthedog

biscuitsbackinsidehispockets,heandHarryfollowedGriphooktowardoneofthedoorsleadingoffthehall.

“What’s theYou-Know-What invault sevenhundred and thirteen?”Harryasked.

“Can’ttellyehthat,”saidHagridmysteriously.“Verysecret.Hogwartsbusiness.Dumbledore’strustedme.More’nmyjob’sworthtertellyehthat.”

Griphookheldthedooropenforthem.Harry,whohadexpectedmoremarble,wassurprised.Theywereinanarrowstonepassagewaylitwithflamingtorches. It slopedsteeplydownwardand therewere little railway trackson thefloor. Griphookwhistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks towardthem.Theyclimbedin—Hagridwithsomedifficulty—andwereoff.

At first they justhurtled throughamazeof twistingpassages.Harrytried to remember, left, right, right, left, middle fork, right, left, but it wasimpossible. The rattling cart seemed to know its ownway, becauseGriphookwasn’tsteering.

Harry’seyesstungasthecoldairrushedpastthem,buthekeptthemwideopen.Once,hethoughthesawaburstoffireattheendofapassageandtwisted around to see if it was a dragon, but too late — they plunged evendeeper,passinganundergroundlakewherehugestalactitesandstalagmitesgrewfromtheceilingandfloor.

“I never know,” Harry called to Hagrid over the noise of the cart,“what’sthedifferencebetweenastalagmiteandastalactite?”

“Stalagmite’sgotan‘m’init,”saidHagrid.“An’don’askmequestionsjustnow,IthinkI’mgonnabesick.”

Hedidlookverygreen,andwhenthecartstoppedatlastbesideasmalldoorinthepassagewall,Hagridgotoutandhadtoleanagainstthewalltostophiskneesfromtrembling.

Griphookunlockedthedoor.Alotofgreensmokecamebillowingout,andasitcleared,Harrygasped.Insideweremoundsofgoldcoins.Columnsofsilver.HeapsoflittlebronzeKnuts.

“Allyours,”smiledHagrid. AllHarry’s—itwas incredible.TheDursleyscouldn’thaveknown

about thisor they’dhavehad it fromhim faster thanblinking.HowoftenhadtheycomplainedhowmuchHarrycostthemtokeep?Andallthetimetherehadbeenasmallfortunebelongingtohim,burieddeepunderLondon.

HagridhelpedHarrypilesomeofitintoabag.“ThegoldonesareGalleons,”heexplained.“SeventeensilverSickles

to a Galleon and twenty-nineKnuts to a Sickle, it’s easy enough. Right, thatshould be enough fer a couple o’ terms,we’ll keep the rest safe for yeh.”HeturnedtoGriphook.“Vaultsevenhundredandthirteennow,please,andcanwegomoreslowly?”

“Onespeedonly,”saidGriphook.Theyweregoingevendeepernowandgatheringspeed.Theairbecame

colderandcolderastheyhurtledroundtightcorners.Theywentrattlingoveranundergroundravine,andHarryleanedoverthesidetotrytoseewhatwasdownatthedarkbottom,butHagridgroanedandpulledhimbackbythescruffofhisneck.

Vaultsevenhundredandthirteenhadnokeyhole. “Standback,”saidGriphookimportantly.Hestrokedthedoorgently

withoneofhislongfingersanditsimplymeltedaway.“IfanyonebutaGringottsgoblintriedthat,they’dbesuckedthrough

thedoorandtrappedinthere,”saidGriphook.“Howoftendoyouchecktoseeifanyone’sinside?”Harryasked.“Aboutonceeverytenyears,”saidGriphookwitharathernastygrin.Somethingreallyextraordinaryhadtobeinsidethistopsecurityvault,

Harrywassure,andheleanedforwardeagerly,expectingtoseefabulousjewelsattheveryleast—butatfirsthethoughtitwasempty.Thenhenoticedagrubbylittlepackagewrappedupinbrownpaperlyingonthefloor.Hagridpickeditupandtuckeditdeepinsidehiscoat.Harrylongedtoknowwhatitwas,butknewbetterthantoask.

“Comeon,backinthisinfernalcart,anddon’ttalktomeonthewayback,it’sbestifIkeepmemouthshut,”saidHagrid.

One wild cart ride later they stood blinking in the sunlight outsideGringotts.Harry didn’t knowwhere to run first now that he had a bag full ofmoney.Hedidn’thave toknowhowmanyGalleons therewere to apound toknowthathewasholdingmoremoneythanhe’dhadinhiswholelife—moremoneythanevenDudleyhadeverhad.

“Mightaswellgetyeruniform,”saidHagrid,noddingtowardMadamMalkin’sRobesforAllOccasions.“Listen,Harry,wouldyehmindifIslippedoffferapick-me-upintheLeakyCauldron?IhatethemGringottscarts.”Hedid

still look a bit sick, so Harry entered Madam Malkin’s shop alone, feelingnervous.

MadamMalkinwasasquat,smilingwitchdressedallinmauve.“Hogwarts,dear?”shesaid,whenHarrystartedtospeak.“Gotthelot

here—anotheryoungmanbeingfittedupjustnow,infact.”Inthebackoftheshop,aboywithapale,pointedfacewasstandingon

afootstoolwhileasecondwitchpinneduphislongblackrobes.MadamMalkinstoodHarryonastoolnexttohimslippedalongrobeoverhishead,andbegantopinittotherightlength.

“Hello,”saidtheboy,“Hogwarts,too?”“Yes,”saidHarry. “My father’snextdoorbuyingmybooksandmother’sup the street

looking at wands,” said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. “Then I’mgoingtodragthemofftotookatracingbrooms.Idon’tseewhyfirstyearscan’thavetheirown.IthinkI’llbullyfatherintogettingmeoneandI’llsmuggleitinsomehow.”

HarrywasstronglyremindedofDudley.“Haveyougotyourownbroom?”theboywenton.“No,”saidHarry.“PlayQuidditchatall?”“No,”Harrysaidagain,wonderingwhatonearthQuidditchcouldbe.“Ido—Fathersaysit’sacrimeifI’mnotpickedtoplayformyhouse,

andImustsay,Iagree.Knowwhathouseyou’llbeinyet?”“No,”saidHarry,feelingmorestupidbytheminute.“Well,noonereallyknowsuntiltheygetthere,dothey,butIknowI’ll

beinSlytherin,allourfamilyhavebeen—imaginebeinginHufflepuff,IthinkI’dleave,wouldn’tyou?”

“Mmm,” said Harry, wishing he could say something a bit moreinteresting.

“Isay, lookat thatman!”said theboysuddenly,noddingtowardthefrontwindow.Hagridwasstandingthere,grinningatHarryandpointingattwolargeicecreamstoshowhecouldn’tcomein.

“That’sHagrid,”saidHarry,pleasedtoknowsomethingtheboydidn’t.“HeworksatHogwarts.”

“Oh,”saidtheboy,“I’veheardofhim.He’sasortofservant,isn’the?”“He’sthegamekeeper,”saidHarry.Hewaslikingtheboylessandless

everysecond. “Yes, exactly. I heardhe’s a sort of savage— lives in ahuton the

school grounds and every nowand then he gets drunk, tries to domagic, and

endsupsettingfiretohisbed.”“Ithinkhe’sbrilliant,”saidHarrycoldly. “Do you?” said the boy,with a slight sneer. “Why is hewith you?

Whereareyourparents?”“They’redead,”saidHarryshortly.Hedidn’tfeelmuchlikegoinginto

thematterwiththisboy.“Oh,sorry,”saidtheother,notsoundingsorryatall.“Buttheywereour

kind,weren’tthey?”“Theywereawitchandwizard,ifthat’swhatyoumean.”“Ireallydon’tthinktheyshouldlettheothersortin,doyou?They’re

just not the same, they’venever beenbrought up to knowourways.Someofthem have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. Ithink they shouldkeep it in theoldwizarding families.What’s your surname,anyway?”

ButbeforeHarrycouldanswer,MadamMalkinsaid,“That’syoudone,mydear,”andHarry,notsorryforanexcusetostoptalkingtotheboy,hoppeddownfromthefootstool.

“Well,I’llseeyouatHogwarts,Isuppose,”saidthedrawlingboy.HarrywasratherquietasheatetheicecreamHagridhadboughthim

(chocolateandraspberrywithchoppednuts).“What’sup?”saidHagrid.“Nothing,”Harrylied.Theystoppedtobuyparchmentandquills.Harry

cheeredupabitwhenhefoundabottleofinkthatchangedcolorasyouwrote.Whentheyhadlefttheshop,hesaid,“Hagrid,what’sQuidditch?”

“Blimey,Harry,Ikeepforgettin’howlittleyehknow—notknowin’aboutQuidditch!”

“Don’tmakemefeelworse,”saidHarry.HetoldHagridaboutthepaleboyinMadamMalkin’s.

“—andhesaidpeoplefromMugglefamiliesshouldn’tevenbeallowedin—”

“YernotfromaMugglefamily.Ifhe’dknownwhoyehwere—he’sgrown up knowin’ yer name if his parents are wizardin’ folk. You sawwhateveryone in the LeakyCauldronwas likewhen they saw yeh.Anyway,whatdoes he know about it, some o’ the best I ever sawwere the only oneswithmagicin‘eminalonglineo’Muggles—lookatyermum!Lookwhatshehadferasister!”

“SowhatisQuidditch?” “It’s our sport.Wizard sport. It’s like— like soccer in theMuggle

world—everyonefollowsQuidditch—playedupintheaironbroomsticksand

there’sfourballs—sortahardterexplaintherules.”“AndwhatareSlytherinandHufflepuff?” “Schoolhouses.There’s four.Everyone saysHufflepuff are a lot o’

duffers,but—”“IbetI’minHufflepuff,”saidHarrygloomily.“BetterHufflepuffthanSlytherin,”saidHagriddarkly.“There’snota

singlewitchorwizardwhowentbadwhowasn’tinSlytherin.You-Know-Whowasone.”

“Vol-,sorry—You-Know-WhowasatHogwarts?”“Yearsan’yearsago,”saidHagrid.TheyboughtHarry’sschoolbooksinashopcalledFlourishandBlotts

where the shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as pavingstonesboundinleather;booksthesizeofpostagestampsincoversofsilk;booksfull of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all. EvenDudley, who never read anything, would have beenwild to get his hands onsome of these. Hagrid almost had to drag Harry away from Curses andCountercurses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with theLatestRevenges:HairLoss,Jelly-Legs,Tongue-TyingandMuch,MuchMore)byProfessorVindictusViridian.

“IwastryingtofindouthowtocurseDudley.”“I’mnotsayin’that’snotagoodidea,butyernotterusemagicinthe

Muggleworldexceptinveryspecialcircumstances,”saidHagrid.“An’anyway,yehcouldn’workanyofthemcursesyet,yeh’llneedalotmorestudybeforeyehgetterthatlevel.”

Hagridwouldn’t letHarrybuyasolidgoldcauldron,either (“Itsayspewter on yer list”), but they got a nice set of scales for weighing potioningredientsandacollapsiblebrasstelescope.ThentheyvisitedtheApothecary,whichwasfascinatingenoughtomakeupforitshorriblesmell,amixtureofbadeggsandrottedcabbages.Barrelsofslimystuffstoodonthefloor;jarsofherbs,dried roots, andbright powders lined thewalls; bundles of feathers, stringsoffangs, and snarled claws hung from the ceiling.While Hagrid asked themanbehind the counter for a supply of some basic potion ingredients for Harry,Harryhimself examined silverunicornhorns at twenty-oneGalleons each andminuscule,glittery-blackbeetleeyes(fiveKnutsascoop).

OutsidetheApothecary,HagridcheckedHarry’slistagain. “Justyerwand left—Ayeah, an’ I stillhaven’tgotyehabirthday

present.”Harryfelthimselfgored.“Youdon’thaveto—”

“IknowIdon’thaveto.Tellyehwhat,I’llgetyeranimal.Notatoad,toadswentouttafashionyearsago,yeh’dbelaughedat—an’Idon’likecats,theymakemesneeze.I’llgetyeranowl.All thekidswantowls, they’redeaduseful,carryyermailan’everythin’.”

Twentyminutes later, they left EeylopsOwlEmporium,which hadbeen dark and full of rustling and flickering, jewel-bright eyes. Harry nowcarrieda largecage thatheldabeautiful snowyowl, fastasleepwithherheadunder her wing. He couldn’t stop stammering his thanks, sounding just likeProfessorQuirrell.

“Don’mentionit,”saidHagridgruffly.“Don’expectyou’vehadalottapresentsfromthemDursleys.JustOllivandersleftnow—onlyplaceferwands,Ollivanders,andyehgottahavethebestwand.”

Amagicwand…thiswaswhatHarryhadbeenreallylookingforwardto.

Thelastshopwasnarrowandshabby.PeelinggoldlettersoverthedoorreadOllivanders:MakersofFineWandssince382B.C.Asinglewandlayonafadedpurplecushioninthedustywindow.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as theysteppedinside.Itwasatinyplace,emptyexceptforasingle,spindlychairthatHagridsatontowait.Harryfeltstrangelyasthoughhehadenteredaverystrictlibrary;heswalloweda lotofnewquestions thathad justoccurred tohimandlooked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to theceiling. For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. The very dust andsilenceinhereseemedtotinglewithsomesecretmagic.

“Goodafternoon,”saidasoftvoice.Harryjumped.Hagridmusthavejumped,too,becausetherewasaloudcrunchingnoiseandhegotquicklyoffthespindlychair.

Anoldmanwasstandingbeforethem,hiswide,paleeyesshininglikemoonsthroughthegloomoftheshop.

“Hello,”saidHarryawkwardly. “Ahyes,”saidtheman.“Yes,yes.I thoughtI’dbeseeingyousoon.

HarryPotter.”Itwasn’taquestion.“Youhaveyourmother’seyes.Itseemsonlyyesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarterincheslong,swishy,madeofwillow.Nicewandforcharmwork.”

Mr.OllivandermovedclosertoHarry.Harrywishedhewouldblink.Thosesilveryeyeswereabitcreepy.

“Your father, on the other hand, favored amahoganywand.Eleveninches.Pliable.Alittlemorepowerandexcellentfortransfiguration.Well,Isayyourfatherfavoredit—it’sreallythewandthatchoosesthewizard,ofcourse.”

Mr.OllivanderhadcomesoclosethatheandHarrywerealmostnosetonose.Harrycouldseehimselfreflectedinthosemistyeyes.

“Andthat’swhere…” Mr.OllivandertouchedthelightningscaronHarry’sforeheadwitha

long,whitefinger.“I’msorrytosayIsoldthewandthatdidit,”hesaidsoftly.“Thirteen-

and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wronghands…well, if I’dknownwhat thatwandwasgoingout into theworld todo.…”

Heshookhisheadandthen,toHarry’srelief,spottedHagrid. “Rubeus!RubeusHagrid!Hownice toseeyouagain.…Oak,sixteen

inches,ratherbendy,wasn’tit?”“Itwas,sir,yes,”saidHagrid.“Goodwand,thatone.ButIsupposetheysnappeditinhalfwhenyou

gotexpelled?”saidMr.Ollivander,suddenlystern.“Er—yes,theydid,yes,”saidHagrid,shufflinghisfeet.“I’vestillgot

thepieces,though,”headdedbrightly.“Butyoudon’tusethem?”saidMr.Ollivandersharply. “Oh,no,sir,”saidHagridquickly.Harrynoticedhegrippedhispink

umbrellaverytightlyashespoke. “Hmmm,”saidMr.Ollivander,givingHagridapiercinglook.“Well,

now—Mr. Potter. Let me see.” He pulled a long tape measure with silvermarkingsoutofhispocket.“Whichisyourwandarm?”

“Er—well,I’mright-handed,”saidHarry. “Holdoutyourarm.That’s it.”HemeasuredHarryfromshoulder to

finger,thenwristtoelbow,shouldertofloor,kneetoarmpitandroundhishead.As he measured, he said, “Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerfulmagicalsubstance,Mr.Potter.Weuseunicornhairs,phoenixtailfeathers,andtheheartstringsofdragons.No twoOllivanderwandsare the same, just asnotwounicorns,dragons,orphoenixesarequitethesame.Andofcourse,youwillnevergetsuchgoodresultswithanotherwizard’swand.”

Harrysuddenlyrealized that the tapemeasure,whichwasmeasuringbetween his nostrils, was doing this on its own. Mr. Ollivander was flittingaroundtheshelves,takingdownboxes.

“Thatwilldo,”hesaid,andthetapemeasurecrumpledintoaheaponthe floor. “Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragonheartstring.Nineinches.Niceandflexible.justtakeitandgiveitawave.”

Harrytookthewandand(feelingfoolish)waveditaroundabit,butMr.Ollivandersnatcheditoutofhishandalmostatonce.

“Mapleandphoenixfeather.Seveninches.Quitewhippy.Try—” Harry tried—but he had hardly raised thewandwhen it, too,was

snatchedbackbyMr.Ollivander. “No, no— here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches,

springy.Goon,goon,tryitout.”Harrytried.Andtried.HehadnoideawhatMr.Ollivanderwaswaiting

for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindlychair,butthemorewandsMr.Ollivanderpulledfromtheshelves,thehappierheseemedtobecome.

“Trickycustomer,eh?Nottoworry,we’llfindtheperfectmatchheresomewhere—Iwonder,now—yes,whynot—unusualcombination—hollyandphoenixfeather,eleveninches,niceandsupple.”

Harrytookthewand.Hefeltasuddenwarmthinhisfingers.Heraisedthewandabovehishead,broughtitswishingdownthroughthedustyairandastream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwingdancing spots of light on to thewalls. Hagridwhooped and clapped andMr.Ollivandercried,“Oh,bravo!Yes,indeed,oh,verygood.Well,well,well…howcurious…howverycurious…”

HeputHarry’swandbackintoitsboxandwrappeditinbrownpaper,stillmuttering,“Curious…curious…

“Sorry,”saidHarry,“butwhat’scurious?”Mr.OllivanderfixedHarrywithhispalestare.“IremembereverywandI’veeversold,Mr.Potter.Everysinglewand.

Itsohappensthatthephoenixwhosetailfeatherisinyourwand,gaveanotherfeather—justoneother.Itisverycuriousindeedthatyoushouldbedestinedforthiswandwhenitsbrother—why,itsbrothergaveyouthatscar.”

Harryswallowed.“Yes,thirteen-and-a-halfinches.Yew.Curiousindeedhowthesethings

happen.Thewandchoosesthewizard,remember…Ithinkwemustexpectgreatthingsfromyou,Mr.Potter….Afterall,He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Nameddidgreatthings—terrible,yes,butgreat.”

Harryshivered.Hewasn’tsurehelikedMr.Ollivandertoomuch.HepaidsevengoldGalleonsforhiswand,andMr.Ollivanderbowedthemfromhisshop.

ThelateafternoonsunhunglowintheskyasHarryandHagridmadetheirwaybackdownDiagonAlley,back through thewall, back through theLeakyCauldron,nowempty.Harrydidn’tspeakatallas theywalkeddowntheroad;he didn’t even notice how much people were gawking at them on the

Underground,ladenastheywerewithalltheirfunny-shapedpackages,withthesnowy owl asleep in its cage on Harry’s lap. Up another escalator, out intoPaddington station;Harry only realizedwhere theywerewhenHagrid tappedhimontheshoulder.

“Gottimeferabitetoeatbeforeyertrainleaves,”hesaid.HeboughtHarryahamburgerandtheysatdownonplasticseatstoeat

them.Harrykeptlookingaround.Everythinglookedsostrange,somehow.“Youallright,Harry?Yerveryquiet,”saidHagrid.Harrywasn’tsurehecouldexplain.He’djusthadthebestbirthdayof

hislife—andyet—hechewedhishamburger,tryingtofindthewords.“EveryonethinksI’mspecial,”hesaidatlast.“Allthosepeopleinthe

LeakyCauldron,ProfessorQuirrell,Mr.Ollivander…butIdon’tknowanythingaboutmagic at all.Howcan theyexpectgreat things? I’m famousand I can’tevenrememberwhatI’mfamousfor.Idon’tknowwhathappenedwhenVol-,sorry—Imean,thenightmyparentsdied.”

Hagridleanedacrossthetable.Behindthewildbeardandeyebrowsheworeaverykindsmile.

“Don’youworry,Harry.You’ll learnfastenough.EveryonestartsatthebeginningatHogwarts,you’llbejustfine.Justbeyerself.Iknowit’shard.Yeh’vebeensingledout,an’that’salwayshard.Butyeh’llhaveagreattimeatHogwarts—Idid—stilldo,’smatteroffact.”

HagridhelpedHarryon to the train thatwould takehimback to theDursleys,thenhandedhimanenvelope.

“Yer ticket ferHogwarts, “ he said. “First o’ September—King’sCross—it’sallonyerticket.AnyproblemswiththeDursleys,sendmealetterwithyerowl,she’llknowwheretofindme….Seeyehsoon,Harry.”

Thetrainpulledoutofthestation.HarrywantedtowatchHagriduntilhewasoutofsight;heroseinhisseatandpressedhisnoseagainstthewindow,butheblinkedandHagridhadgone.

HP1-HarryPotterandtheSorcerer'sStone

CHAPTERSIX

THEJOURNEYFROMPLATFORMNINEANDTHREE-QUARTERS

Harry’slastmonthwiththeDursleyswasn’tfun.True,Dudleywasnowsoscared of Harry he wouldn’t stay in the same room, while Aunt Petunia andUncleVernondidn’t shutHarry inhis cupboard, forcehim todoanything,orshout at him — in fact, they didn’t speak to him at all. Half terrified, halffurious, theyactedas thoughanychairwithHarry in itwereempty.Althoughthiswasan improvement inmanyways, itdidbecomeabitdepressingafterawhile.

Harrykepttohisroom,withhisnewowlforcompany.Hehaddecidedto call her Hedwig, a name he had found inAHistory ofMagic. His schoolbooks were very interesting. He lay on his bed reading late into the night,Hedwigswooping inandoutof theopenwindowasshepleased. Itwas luckythat Aunt Petunia didn’t come in to vacuum anymore, because Hedwig keptbringingbackdeadmice.Everynightbeforehewenttosleep,Harrytickedoffanotherdayonthepieceofpaperhehadpinnedtothewall,countingdowntoSeptemberthefirst.

OnthelastdayofAugusthethoughthe’dbetterspeaktohisauntanduncleaboutgettingtoKing’sCrossstationthenextday,sohewentdowntothelivingroomwheretheywerewatchingaquizshowontelevision.Heclearedhisthroat to let themknowhewas there, andDudley screamed and ran from theroom.

“Er—UncleVernon?”UncleVernongruntedtoshowhewaslistening.“Er—IneedtobeatKing’sCrosstomorrowto—togotoHogwarts.”UncleVernongruntedagain.“Woulditbeallrightifyougavemealift?”Grunt.Harrysupposedthatmeantyes.“Thankyou.”HewasabouttogobackupstairswhenUncleVernonactuallyspoke.“Funnywaytogettoawizards’school,thetrain.Magiccarpetsallgot

punctures,havethey?”Harrydidn’tsayanything.“Whereisthisschool,anyway?”“Idon’tknow,”saidHarry,realizingthisforthefirsttime.Hepulled

theticketHagridhadgivenhimoutofhispocket. “I just take the train fromplatformnineand three-quartersateleven

o’clock,”heread.Hisauntandunclestared.“Platformwhat?”“Nineandthree-quarters.” “Don’t talk rubbish,”saidUncleVernon.“There isnoplatformnine

andthree-quarters.”“It’sonmyticket.”“Barking,”saidUncleVernon,“howlingmad,thelotofthem.You’ll

see.Youjustwait.Allright,we’lltakeyoutoKing’sCross.We’regoinguptoLondontomorrowanyway,orIwouldn’tbother.”

“Whyareyougoing toLondon?”Harryasked, trying tokeep thingsfriendly.

“TakingDudleytothehospital,”growledUncleVernon.“GottohavethatruddytailremovedbeforehegoestoSmeltings.”

Harry woke at five o’clock the next morning and was too excited andnervoustogobacktosleep.Hegotupandpulledonhisjeansbecausehedidn’twanttowalkintothestationinhiswizard’srobes—he’dchangeonthetrain.He checked his Hogwarts list yet again to make sure he had everything heneeded,sawthatHedwigwasshutsafelyinhercage,andthenpacedtheroom,waitingfor theDursleys togetup.Twohours later,Harry’shuge,heavytrunkhad been loaded into the Dursleys’ car, Aunt Petunia had talked Dudley intosittingnexttoHarry,andtheyhadsetoff.

They reachedKing’sCross at half past ten.UncleVernon dumpedHarry’strunkontoacartandwheeleditintothestationforhim.Harrythoughtthiswas strangelykinduntilUncleVernon stoppeddead, facing theplatformswithanastygrinonhisface.

“Well,thereyouare,boy.Platformnine—platformten.Yourplatformshouldbesomewhereinthemiddle,buttheydon’tseemtohavebuiltityet,dothey?”

Hewasquiteright,ofcourse.Therewasabigplasticnumbernineoverone platform and a big plastic number ten over the one next to it, and in themiddle,nothingatall.

“Haveagoodterm,”saidUncleVernonwithanevennastiersmile.Heleftwithout anotherword.Harry turned and saw theDursleysdrive away.Allthreeofthemwerelaughing.Harry’smouthwentratherdry.Whatonearthwashe going to do? He was starting to attract a lot of funny looks, because of

Hedwig.He’dhavetoasksomeone.Hestoppedapassingguard,butdidn’tdarementionplatformnineand

three-quarters.TheguardhadneverheardofHogwartsandwhenHarrycouldn’teven tell himwhatpart of the country itwas in, he started toget annoyed, asthoughHarrywasbeingstupidonpurpose.Gettingdesperate,Harryasked forthe train that leftateleveno’clock,but theguardsaid therewasn’tone. In theendtheguardstrodeaway,mutteringabouttimewasters.Harrywasnowtryinghardnot topanic.According to the largeclockover thearrivalsboard,hehadtenminuteslefttogetonthetraintoHogwartsandhehadnoideahowtodoit;hewas stranded in themiddleof a stationwith a trunkhe couldhardly lift, apocketfullofwizardmoney,andalargeowl.

Hagridmusthaveforgottentotellhimsomethingyouhadtodo,liketappingthe thirdbrickonthe left toget intoDiagonAlley.Hewonderedifheshould get out hiswand and start tapping the ticket inspector’s stand betweenplatformsnineandten.

Atthatmomentagroupofpeoplepassedjustbehindhimandhecaughtafewwordsofwhattheyweresaying.

“—packedwithMuggles,ofcourse—”Harryswunground.Thespeakerwasaplumpwomanwhowastalking

to fourboys,allwith flaming redhair.Eachof themwaspushinga trunk likeHarry’sinfrontofhim—andtheyhadanowl.

Hearthammering,Harrypushedhiscartafterthem.Theystoppedandsodidhe,justnearenoughtohearwhattheyweresaying.

“Now,what’stheplatformnumber?”saidtheboys’mother.“Nineandthree-quarters!”pipedasmallgirl,alsored-headed,whowas

holdingherhand,“Mom,can’tIgo…”“You’renotoldenough,Ginny,nowbequiet.Allright,Percy,yougo

first.”Whatlookedliketheoldestboymarchedtowardplatformsnineandten.

Harrywatched,carefulnot toblink incasehemissed it—but justas theboyreachedthedividingbarrierbetweenthetwoplatforms,alargecrowdoftouristscame swarming in frontofhimandby the time the lastbackpackhadclearedaway,theboyhadvanished.

“Fred,younext,”theplumpwomansaid.“I’mnotFred,I’mGeorge,”saidtheboy.“Honestly,woman,youcall

yourselfourmother?Can’tyoutellI’mGeorge?”“Sorry,George,dear.”“Onlyjoking,IamFred,”saidtheboy,andoffhewent.Histwincalled

afterhimtohurryup,andhemusthavedoneso,becauseasecondlater,hehad

gone—buthowhadhedoneit? Nowthe thirdbrotherwaswalkingbriskly towardthebarrierhewas

almostthere—andthen,quitesuddenly,hewasn’tanywhere.Therewasnothingelseforit.“Excuseme,”Harrysaidtotheplumpwoman.“Hello,dear,”shesaid.“FirsttimeatHogwarts?Ron’snew,too.”Shepointedatthelastandyoungestofhersons.Hewastall,thin,and

gangling,withfreckles,bighandsandfeet,andalongnose.“Yes,”saidHarry.“Thethingis—thethingis,Idon’tknowhowto

—”“Howtogetontotheplatform?”shesaidkindly,andHarrynodded. “Not toworry,”shesaid.“Allyouhave todo iswalkstraightat the

barrier between platforms nine and ten.Don’t stop and don’t be scared you’llcrashintoit,that’sveryimportant.Bestdoitatabitofarunifyou’renervous.Goon,gonowbeforeRon.”

“Er—okay,”saidHarry. Hepushedhis trolleyaroundandstaredat thebarrier.It lookedvery

solid. He started to walk toward it. People jostled him on their way to

platformsnineandten.Harrywalkedmorequickly.Hewasgoingtosmashrightinto thatbarrierand thenhe’dbe in trouble—leaningforwardonhiscart,hebroke into a heavy run — the barrier was coming nearer and nearer — hewouldn’tbeabletostop—thecartwasoutofcontrol—hewasafootaway—heclosedhiseyesreadyforthecrash—

It didn’t come…he kept on running…he opened his eyes.A scarletsteam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A signoverheadsaidHogwarts’Express,eleveno’clock.Harrylookedbehindhimandsaw a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, with the wordsPlatformNineandThree-Quartersonit,Hehaddoneit.

Smokefromtheenginedriftedovertheheadsofthechatteringcrowd,whilecatsofeverycolorwoundhereandtherebetweentheirlegs.Owlshootedtooneanotherinadisgruntledsortofwayoverthebabbleandthescrapingofheavytrunks.

The first few carriages were already packed with students, somehanging out of thewindow to talk to their families, some fighting over seats.Harry pushed his cart off down the platform in search of an empty seat. Hepassedaround-facedboywhowassaying,“Gran,I’velostmytoadagain.”

“Oh,Neville,”heheardtheoldwomansigh.Aboywithdreadlockswassurroundedbyasmallcrowd.

“Giveusalook,Lee,goon.”Theboyliftedthelidofaboxinhisarms,andthepeoplearoundhim

shriekedandyelledassomethinginsidepokedoutalong,hairyleg. Harry pressed on through the crowd until he found an empty

compartment near the end of the train. He put Hedwig inside first and thenstartedtoshoveandheavehistrunktowardthetraindoor.Hetriedtoliftitupthestepsbutcouldhardlyraiseoneendandtwicehedroppeditpainfullyonhisfoot.

“Want a hand?” It was one of the red-haired twins he’d followedthroughthebarrier.

“Yes,please,”Harrypanted.“Oy,Fred!C’mereandhelp!”Withthetwins’help,Harry’strunkwasatlasttuckedawayinacorner

ofthecompartment.“Thanks,”saidHarry,pushinghissweatyhairoutofhiseyes. “What’s that?” said one of the twins suddenly, pointing at Harry’s

lightningscar.“Blimey,”saidtheothertwin.“Areyou—?”“Heis,”saidthefirsttwin.“Aren’tyou?”headdedtoHarry.“What?”saidHarry.“HarryPotter.”chorusedthetwins.“Oh,him,”saidHarry.“Imean,yes,Iam.”Thetwoboysgawkedathim,andHarryfelthimselfturningred.Then,

tohisrelief,avoicecamefloatinginthroughthetrain’sopendoor.“Fred?George?Areyouthere?”“Coming,Mom.”WithalastlookatHarry,thetwinshoppedoffthetrain.Harrysatdownnexttothewindowwhere,halfhidden,hecouldwatch

the red-haired family on the platform and hear what they were saying. Theirmotherhadjusttakenoutherhandkerchief.

“Ron,you’vegotsomethingonyournose.”Theyoungestboytriedtojerkoutoftheway,butshegrabbedhimand

beganrubbingtheendofhisnose.“Mom—geroff”Hewriggledfree. “Aaah,has ickleRonniegotsomefinkonhisnosie?”saidoneof the

twins.“Shutup,”saidRon.“Where’sPercy?”saidtheirmother.“He’scomingnow.”

Theoldestboycamestridingintosight.HehadalreadychangedintohisbillowingblackHogwartsrobes,andHarrynoticedashinysilverbadgeonhischestwiththeletterPonit.

“Can’tstaylong,Mother,”hesaid.“I’mupfront,theprefectshavegottwocompartmentstothemselves—”

“Oh,areyouaprefect,Percy?”saidoneof the twins,withanairofgreatsurprise.“Youshouldhavesaidsomething,wehadnoidea.”

“Hangon,IthinkIrememberhimsayingsomethingaboutit,”saidtheothertwin.“Once—”

“Ortwice—”“Aminute—”“Allsummer—”“Oh,shutup,”saidPercythePrefect.“HowcomePercygetsnewrobes,anyway?”saidoneofthetwins. “Because he’s a prefect,” said theirmother fondly. “All right, dear,

well,haveagoodterm—sendmeanowlwhenyougetthere.”ShekissedPercyonthecheekandheleft.Thensheturnedtothetwins.“Now,youtwo—thisyear,youbehaveyourselves.IfIgetonemore

owltellingmeyou’ve—you’veblownupatoiletor—”“Blownupatoilet?We’veneverblownupatoilet.”“Greatideathough,thanks,Mom.”“It’snotfunny.AndlookafterRon.”“Don’tworry,ickleRonniekinsissafewithus.”“Shutup,”saidRonagain.Hewasalmostastallasthetwinsalready

andhisnosewasstillpinkwherehismotherhadrubbedit.“Hey,Mom,guesswhat?Guesswhowejustmetonthetrain?”Harryleanedbackquicklysotheycouldn’tseehimlooking.“Youknowthatblack-hairedboywhowasnearusinthestation?Know

whoheis?”“Who?”“HarryPotter!”Harryheardthelittlegirl’svoice.“Oh,Mom,canIgoonthetrainandseehim,Mom,ehplease....”“You’vealreadyseenhim,Ginny,andthepoorboyisn’tsomethingyou

goggleatinazoo.Ishereally,Fred?Howdoyouknow?”“Askedhim.Sawhisscar.It’sreallythere—likelightning.” “Poordear—nowonderhewasalone, Iwondered.Hewaseverso

politewhenheaskedhowtogetontotheplatform.” “Nevermindthat,doyouthinkherememberswhatYou-Know-Who

lookslike?”Theirmothersuddenlybecameverystern.“Iforbidyoutoaskhim,Fred.No,don’tyoudare.Asthoughheneeds

remindingofthatonhisfirstdayatschool.”“Allright,keepyourhairon.”Awhistlesounded. “Hurryup!”theirmothersaid,andthethreeboysclamberedontothe

train.They leanedoutof thewindow forher tokiss themgood-bye, and theiryoungersisterbegantocry.

“Don’t,Ginny,we’llsendyouloadsofowls.”“We’llsendyouaHogwarts’toiletseat.”“George!”“Onlyjoking,Mom.”Thetrainbegantomove.Harrysawtheboys’motherwavingandtheir

sister, half laughing, half crying, running to keep up with the train until itgatheredtoomuchspeed,thenshefellbackandwaved.

Harrywatchedthegirlandhermotherdisappearasthetrainroundedthe corner. Houses flashed past the window. Harry felt a great leap ofexcitement.Hedidn’tknowwhathewasgoingto—butithadtobebetterthanwhathewasleavingbehind.

Thedoorofthecompartmentslidopenandtheyoungestredheadedboycamein.

“Anyonesittingthere?”heasked,pointingattheseatoppositeHarry.“Everywhereelseisfull.”

Harryshookhisheadandtheboysatdown.HeglancedatHarryandthenlookedquicklyoutofthewindow,pretendinghehadn’tlooked.Harrysawhestillhadablackmarkonhisnose.

“Hey,Ron.”Thetwinswereback.“Listen,we’regoingdownthemiddleofthetrain—LeeJordan’sgota

gianttarantuladownthere.”“Right,”mumbledRon. “Harry,” said theother twin, “didwe introduceourselves?Fred and

GeorgeWeasley.AndthisisRon,ourbrother.Seeyoulater,then.”“Bye,”saidHarryandRon.Thetwinsslidthecompartmentdoorshut

behindthem.“AreyoureallyHarryPotter?”Ronblurtedout.Harrynodded.“Oh—well,IthoughtitmightbeoneofFredandGeorge’sjokes,”said

Ron.“Andhaveyoureallygot—youknow…”HepointedatHarry’sforehead.Harrypulledbackhisbangstoshowthelightningscar.Ronstared.“Sothat’swhereYou-Know-Who—?”“Yes,”saidHarry,“butIcan’trememberit.”“Nothing?”saidRoneagerly.“Well—Irememberalotofgreenlight,butnothingelse.”“Wow,”saidRon.HesatandstaredatHarryforafewmoments,then,

asthoughhehadsuddenlyrealizedwhathewasdoing,helookedquicklyoutofthewindowagain.

“Areall your familywizards?”askedHarry,who foundRon just asinterestingasRonfoundhim.

“Er—Yes,Ithinkso,”saidRon.“IthinkMom’sgotasecondcousinwho’sanaccountant,butwenevertalkabouthim.”

“Soyoumustknowloadsofmagicalready.”TheWeasleyswereclearlyoneofthoseoldwizardingfamiliesthepale

boyinDiagonAlleyhadtalkedabout. “I heardyouwent to livewithMuggles,” saidRon. “What are they

like?”“Horrible—well,notallofthem.Myauntanduncleandcousinare,

though.WishI’dhadthreewizardbrothers.” “Five,”saidRon.Forsomereason,hewaslookinggloomy.“I’mthe

sixthinourfamilytogotoHogwarts.YoucouldsayI’vegotalottoliveupto.BillandCharliehavealreadyleft—BillwasheadboyandCharliewascaptainofQuidditch.NowPercy’s a prefect. Fred andGeorgemess around a lot, butthey still get really good marks and everyone thinks they’re really funny.Everyone expectsme to do aswell as the others, but if I do, it’s nobig deal,becausetheydiditfirst.Younevergetanythingnew,either,withfivebrothers.I’vegotBill’soldrobes,Charlie’soldwand,andPercy’soldrat.”

Ronreachedinsidehisjacketandpulledoutafatgrayrat,whichwasasleep.

“Hisname’sScabbersandhe’suseless,hehardlyeverwakesup.Percygot an owl frommy dad for beingmade a prefect, but they couldn’t aff— Imean,IgotScabbersinstead.”

Ron’searswentpink.Heseemedtothinkhe’dsaidtoomuch,becausehewentbacktostaringoutofthewindow.

Harry didn’t think therewas anythingwrongwith not being able toaffordanowl.Afterall,he’dneverhadanymoneyinhislifeuntilamonthago,and he told Ron so, all about having towearDudley’s old clothes and never

gettingproperbirthdaypresents.ThisseemedtocheerRonup. “…and untilHagrid toldme, I didn’t know anything about being a

wizardoraboutmyparentsorVoldemort—”Rongasped.“What?”saidHarry.“YousaidYou-Know-Who’sname!”saidRon,soundingbothshocked

andimpressed.“I’dhavethoughtyou,ofallpeople—”“I’mnottryingtobebraveoranything,sayingthename,”saidHarry,“I

justneverknewyoushouldn’t.SeewhatImean?I’vegotloadstolearn.…Ibet,”headded,voicingforthefirsttimesomethingthathadbeenworryinghimalotlately,“IbetI’mtheworstintheclass.”

“You won’t be. There’s loads of people who come from Mugglefamiliesandtheylearnquickenough.”

Whiletheyhadbeentalking,thetrainhadcarriedthemoutofLondon.Nowtheywerespeedingpastfieldsfullofcowsandsheep.Theywerequietforatime,watchingthefieldsandlanesflickpast.

Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in thecorridorandasmiling,dimpledwomanslidbacktheirdoorandsaid,“Anythingoffthecart,dears?”

Harry,whohadn’thadanybreakfast,leapttohisfeet,butRon’searswentpinkagainandhemutteredthathe’dbroughtsandwiches.Harrywentoutintothecorridor.

HehadneverhadanymoneyforcandywiththeDursleys,andnowthathehadpocketsrattlingwithgoldandsilverhewasreadytobuyasmanyMarsBarsashecouldcarry—butthewomandidn’thaveMarsBars.Whatshedidhave were Bettie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum,Chocolate Frogs. Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands, and anumberofotherstrangethingsHarryhadneverseeninhislife.Notwantingtomiss anything, he got some of everything and paid the woman eleven silverSicklesandsevenbronzeKnuts.

Ron stared asHarry brought it all back in to the compartment andtippeditontoanemptyseat.

“Hungry,areyou?”“Starving,”saidHarry,takingalargebiteoutofapumpkinpasty.Ronhadtakenoutalumpypackageandunwrappedit.Therewerefour

sandwichesinside.Hepulledoneofthemapartandsaid,“ShealwaysforgetsIdon’tlikecornedbeef..”

“Swapyouforoneofthese,”saidHarry,holdingupapasty.“Goon—”

“Youdon’twant this, it’s all dry,” saidRon. “She hasn’t gotmuchtime,”headdedquickly,“youknow,withfiveofus.”

“Goon,haveapasty,”saidHarry,whohadneverhadanythingtosharebeforeor,indeed,anyonetoshareitwith.Itwasanicefeeling,sittingtherewithRon, eating their way through all Harry’s pasties, cakes, and candies (thesandwicheslayforgotten).

“Whatare these?”HarryaskedRon,holdingupapackofChocolateFrogs.“They’renotreallyfrogs,arethey?”Hewasstartingtofeelthatnothingwouldsurprisehim.

“No,”saidRon.“Butseewhatthecardis.I’mmissingAgrippa.”“What?” “Oh,of course, youwouldn’t know—ChocolateFrogshave cards,

insidethem,youknow,tocollect—famouswitchesandwizards.I’vegotaboutfivehundred,butIhaven’tgotAgrippaorPtolemy.”

HarryunwrappedhisChocolateFrogandpickedupthecard.Itshowedaman’sface.Heworehalf-moonglasses,hadalong,crookednose,andflowingsilver hair, beard, andmustache. Underneath the picture was the nameAlbusDumbledore.

“SothisisDumbledore!”saidHarry. “Don’t tellmeyou’dneverheardofDumbledore!”saidRon.“CanI

haveafrog?ImightgetAgrippa—thanks—”Harryturnedoverhiscardandread:

ALBUSDUMBLEDORECURRENTLYHEADMASTEROFHOGWARTS

Consideredbymanythegreatestwizardofmoderntimes,Dumbledoreisparticularly famous forhisdefeatof thedarkwizardGrindelwald in1945, forthe discovery of the twelve uses of dragon’s blood, and hiswork on alchemywithhispartner,NicolasFlamel.ProfessorDumbledoreenjoyschambermusicandtenpinbowling.

Harry turned the card back over and saw, to his astonishment, thatDumbledore’sfacehaddisappeared.

“He’sgone!”“Well,youcan’texpecthimtohangaroundallday,”saidRon.“He’ll

beback.No,I’vegotMorganaagainandI’vegotaboutsixofher…doyouwantit?Youcanstartcollecting.”

Ron’s eyes strayed to the pile of Chocolate Frogs waiting to be

unwrapped. “Help yourself,” saidHarry. “But in, you know, theMuggleworld,

peoplejuststayputinphotos.” “Do they? What, they don’t move at all?” Ron sounded amazed.

“Weird!”HarrystaredasDumbledoresidledbackintothepictureonhiscardand

gavehimasmallsmile.RonwasmoreinterestedineatingthefrogsthanlookingattheFamousWitchesandWizardscards,butHarrycouldn’tkeephiseyesoffthem. Soon he had not only Dumbledore and Morgana, but Hengist ofWoodcroft,AlbericGrunnion,Circe,Paracelsus,andMerlin.HefinallytorehiseyesawayfromtheDruidessCliodna,whowasscratchinghernose, toopenabagofBertieBott’sEveryFlavorBeans.

“Youwanttobecarefulwiththose,”RonwarnedHarry.“Whentheysayeveryflavor,theymeaneveryflavor—youknow,yougetalltheordinaryoneslikechocolateandpeppermintandmarmalade,butthenyoucangetspinachandliverandtripe.Georgereckonshehadabooger-flavoredoneonce.”

Ronpickedupagreenbean,lookedatitcarefully,andbitintoacorner.“Bleaaargh—see?Sprouts.”TheyhadagoodtimeeatingtheEveryFlavorBeans.Harrygottoast,

coconut, baked bean, strawberry, curry, grass, coffee, sardine, and was evenbraveenoughtonibbletheendoffafunnygrayoneRonwouldn’ttouch,whichturnedouttobepepper.

Thecountrysidenowflyingpastthewindowwasbecomingwilder.Theneat fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark greenhills.

Therewasaknockon thedoorof theircompartmentand the round-faced boyHarry had passed on platform nine and three-quarters came in. Helookedtearful.

“Sorry,”hesaid,“buthaveyouseenatoadatall?” When they shook their heads, hewailed, “I’ve lost him!He keeps

gettingawayfromme!”“He’llturnup,”saidHarry.“Yes,”saidtheboymiserably.“Well,ifyouseehim…”Heleft.“Don’tknowwhyhe’ssobothered,”saidRon.“IfI’dbroughtatoadI’d

loseitasquickasIcould.Mindyou,IbroughtScabbers,soIcan’ttalk.”TheratwasstillsnoozingonRon’slap.“Hemighthavediedandyouwouldn’tknowthedifference,”saidRon

indisgust.“I tried to turnhimyellowyesterday tomakehimmore interesting,

butthespelldidn’twork.I’llshowyou,look…” He rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-

lookingwand.Itwaschippedinplacesandsomethingwhitewasglintingattheend.

“Unicornhair’snearlypokingout.Anyway—” He had just raised hiswandwhen the compartment door slid open

again.Thetoadlessboywasback,butthistimehehadagirlwithhim.ShewasalreadywearinghernewHogwartsrobes.

“Hasanyoneseenatoad?Neville’slostone,”shesaid.Shehadabossysortofvoice,lotsofbushybrownhair,andratherlargefrontteeth.

“We’ve already toldhimwehaven’t seen it,” saidRon, but thegirlwasn’tlistening,shewaslookingatthewandinhishand.

“Oh,areyoudoingmagic?Let’sseeit,then.”Shesatdown.Ronlookedtakenaback.“Er—allright.”Heclearedhisthroat.

“Sunshine,daisies,buttermellow,Turnthisstupid,fatratyellow.”

Hewavedhiswand,butnothinghappened.Scabbersstayedgrayandfastasleep.

“Areyou sure that’s a real spell?” said thegirl. “Well, it’snotverygood,isit?I’vetriedafewsimplespellsjustforpracticeandit’sallworkedforme.Nobodyinmyfamily’smagicatall,itwaseversuchasurprisewhenIgotmyletter,butIwaseversopleased,ofcourse,Imean,it’stheverybestschoolofwitchcraftthereis,I’veheard—I’velearnedallourcoursebooksbyheart,ofcourse,Ijusthopeitwillbeenough—I’mHermioneGranger,bytheway,whoareyou?”

Shesaidallthisveryfast.HarrylookedatRon,andwasrelievedtoseebyhisstunnedfacethathe

hadn’tlearnedallthecoursebooksbyhearteither.“I’mRonWeasley,”Ronmuttered.“HarryPotter,”saidHarry.“Areyoureally?”saidHermione.“Iknowallaboutyou,ofcourse—I

gota fewextrabooks, forbackgroundreading,andyou’re inModernMagicalHistoryandTheRiseandFalloftheDarkArtsandGreatWizardingEventsoftheTwentiethCentury.”

“AmI?”saidHarry,feelingdazed.

“Goodness,didn’tyouknow,I’dhavefoundouteverythingIcouldifitwasme,”saidHermione.“Doeitherofyouknowwhathouseyou’llbein?I’vebeenasking around, and Ihope I’m inGryffindor, it soundsby far thebest; IhearDumbledorehimselfwas in it, but I supposeRavenclawwouldn’t be toobad....Anyway,we’dbettergoand lookforNeville’s toad.Youtwohadbetterchange,youknow,Iexpectwe’llbetheresoon.”

Andsheleft,takingthetoadlessboywithher.“WhateverhouseI’min,Ihopeshe’snotinit,”saidRon.Hethrewhis

wandbackintohistrunk.“Stupidspell—Georgegaveittome,betheknewitwasadud.”

“Whathouseareyourbrothersin?”askedHarry. “Gryffindor,” saidRon.Gloom seemed to be settling onhim again.

“MomandDadwereinit,too.Idon’tknowwhatthey’llsayifI’mnot.Idon’tsupposeRavenclawwouldbetoobad,butimagineiftheyputmeinSlytherin.”

“That’sthehouseVol-,Imean,You-Know-Whowasin?”“Yeah,”saidRon.Hefloppedbackintohisseat,lookingdepressed. “Youknow,I thinktheendsofScabbers’whiskersareabit lighter,”

said Harry, trying to take Ron’s mind off houses. “So what do your oldestbrothersdonowthatthey’veleft,anyway?”

Harrywaswonderingwhatawizarddidoncehe’dfinishedschool. “Charlie’s inRomania studying dragons, andBill’s inAfrica doing

somethingforGringotts,”saidRon.“DidyouhearaboutGringotts?It’sbeenallover theDailyProphet, but I don’t supposeyouget thatwith theMuggles—someonetriedtorobahighsecurityvault.”

Harrystared.“Really?Whathappenedtothem?”“Nothing,that’swhyit’ssuchbignews.Theyhaven’tbeencaught.My

dadsaysitmust’vebeenapowerfulDarkwizardtogetroundGringotts,buttheydon’tthinktheytookanything,that’swhat’sodd.’Course,everyonegetsscaredwhensomethinglikethishappensincaseYou-Know-Who’sbehindit.”

Harryturnedthisnewsoverinhismind.Hewasstartingtogetaprickleof fear every timeYou-Know-Whowasmentioned.He supposed thiswas allpartofenteringthemagicalworld,butithadbeenalotmorecomfortablesaying“Voldemort”withoutworrying.

“What’syourQuidditchteam?”Ronasked.“Er—Idon’tknowany.”Harryconfessed.“What!”Ronlookeddumbfounded.“Oh,youwait,it’sthebestgamein

the world —” And he was off, explaining all about the four balls and thepositionsof the sevenplayers,describing famousgameshe’dbeen towithhis

brothersand thebroomstickhe’d like toget ifhehad themoney.Hewas justtakingHarry through the finerpointsof thegamewhen thecompartmentdoorslidopenyetagain,butitwasn’tNevillethetoadlessboy,orHermioneGrangerthistime.

Threeboysentered,andHarry recognized themiddleoneatonce: itwas the pale boy fromMadamMalkin’s robe shop.Hewas looking atHarrywithalotmoreinterestthanhe’dshownbackinDiagonAlley.

“Is it true?” he said. “They’re saying all down the train thatHarryPotter’sinthiscompartment.Soit’syou,isit?”

“Yes,”saidHarry.Hewaslookingattheotherboys.Bothofthemwerethickset and looked extremelymean. Standing on either side of the pale boy,theylookedlikebodyguards.

“Oh, this isCrabbe and this isGoyle,” said thepaleboy carelessly,noticingwhereHarrywaslooking.“Andmyname’sMalfoy,DracoMalfoy.”

Ron gave a slight cough,whichmight have been hiding a snigger.DracoMalfoylookedathim.

“Thinkmyname’s funny,doyou?Noneed toaskwhoyouare.Myfather toldmeall theWeasleyshaveredhair, freckles,andmorechildrenthantheycanafford.”

HeturnedbacktoHarry.“You’llsoonfindoutsomewizardingfamiliesaremuchbetter thanothers,Potter.Youdon’twant togomakingfriendswiththewrongsort.Icanhelpyouthere.”

HeheldouthishandtoshakeHarry’s,butHarrydidn’ttakeit.“IthinkIcantellwhothewrongsortareformyself,thanks,”hesaid

coolly. DracoMalfoy didn’t go red, but a pink tinge appeared in his pale

cheeks.“I’dbecarefulifIwereyou,Potter,”hesaidslowly.“Unlessyou’rea

bitpoliteryou’llgothesamewayasyourparents.Theydidn’tknowwhatwasgoodforthem,either.YouhangaroundwithriffraffliketheWeasleysandthatHagrid,andit’llruboffonyou.”

BothHarryandRonstoodup.“Saythatagain,”Ronsaid,hisfaceasredashishair.“Oh,you’regoingtofightus,areyou?”Malfoysneered. “Unless you get out now,” said Harry, more bravely than he felt,

becauseCrabbeandGoylewerealotbiggerthanhimorRon.“Butwedon’tfeetlikeleaving,dowe,boys?We’veeatenallourfood

andyoustillseemtohavesome.” GoylereachedtowardtheChocolateFrogsnext toRon—Ronleapt

forward,butbeforehe’dsomuchastouchedGoyle,Goyleletoutahorribleyell.Scabberstheratwashangingoffhisfinger,sharplittleteethsunkdeep

into Goyle’s knuckle — Crabbe and Malfoy backed away as Goyle swungScabbersroundandround,howling,andwhenScabbersfinallyflewoffandhitthewindow,all threeof themdisappearedatonce.Perhaps they thought therewere more rats lurking among the sweets, or perhaps they’d heard footsteps,becauseasecondlater,HermioneGrangerhadcomein.

“Whathasbeengoingon?”shesaid,lookingatthesweetsalloverthefloorandRonpickingupScabbersbyhistail.

“Ithinkhe’sbeenknockedout,”RonsaidtoHarry.HelookedcloseratScabbers.“No—Idon’tbelieveit—he’sgonebacktosleep.”

Andsohehad.“You’vemetMalfoybefore?”HarryexplainedabouttheirmeetinginDiagonAlley. “I’veheardofhisfamily,”saidRondarkly.“Theyweresomeof the

first to come back to our side afterYou-Know-Who disappeared. Said they’dbeenbewitched.Mydaddoesn’tbelieveit.HesaysMalfoy’sfatherdidn’tneedanexcusetogoover totheDarkSide.”HeturnedtoHermione.“Canwehelpyouwithsomething?”

“You’dbetterhurryupandputyourrobeson,I’vejustbeenuptothefront to ask the conductor, and he sayswe’re nearly there.You haven’t beenfighting,haveyou?You’llbeintroublebeforeweevengetthere!”

“Scabbershasbeenfighting,notus,”saidRon,scowlingather.“Wouldyoumindleavingwhilewechange?”

“Allright—Ionlycameinherebecausepeopleoutsidearebehavingvery childishly, racing up and down the corridors,” saidHermione in a sniffyvoice.“Andyou’vegotdirtonyournose,bytheway,didyouknow?”

Ronglaredatherassheleft.Harrypeeredoutofthewindow.Itwasgettingdark.Hecouldseemountainsandforestsunderadeeppurplesky.Thetraindidseemtobeslowingdown.

HeandRontookofftheirjacketsandpulledontheirlongblackrobes.Ron’swereabitshortforhim,youcouldseehissneakersunderneaththem.

Avoiceechoed throughthe train:“WewillbereachingHogwarts infiveminutes’time.Pleaseleaveyourluggageonthetrain,itwillbetakentotheschoolseparately.”

Harry’s stomach lurchedwith nerves andRon, he saw, looked paleunderhisfreckles.Theycrammedtheirpocketswiththelastof thesweetsandjoinedthecrowdthrongingthecorridor.

Thetrainslowedrightdownandfinallystopped.Peoplepushedtheir

waytowardthedoorandoutontoatiny,darkplatform.Harryshiveredinthecoldnight air.Thena lampcamebobbingover theheadsof the students, andHarryheardafamiliarvoice:“Firs’years!Firs’yearsoverhere!Allrightthere,Harry?”

Hagrid’sbighairyfacebeamedovertheseaofheads.“C’mon,followme—anymorefirs’years?Mindyerstep,now!Firs’

yearsfollowme!”Slippingandstumbling,theyfollowedHagriddownwhatseemedtobe

a steep,narrowpath. Itwas sodarkoneither sideof them thatHarry thoughttheremustbethicktreesthere.Nobodyspokemuch.Neville,theboywhokeptlosinghistoad,sniffedonceortwice.

“Yeh’llgetyerfirs’sighto’Hogwartsinasec,”Hagridcalledoverhisshoulder,“jus’roundthisbendhere.”

Therewasaloud“Oooooh!” Thenarrowpathhadopenedsuddenlyontotheedgeofagreatblack

lake.Perchedatopahighmountainontheotherside, itswindowssparklinginthestarrysky,wasavastcastlewithmanyturretsandtowers.

“Nomore’nfourtoaboat!”Hagridcalled,pointingtoafleetoflittleboatssittinginthewaterbytheshore.HarryandRonwerefollowedintotheirboatbyNevilleandHermione.

“Everyonein?”shoutedHagrid,whohadaboattohimself.“Rightthen—FORWARD!”

And the fleetof littleboatsmovedoffallatonce,glidingacross thelake,whichwasassmoothasglass.Everyonewassilent,staringupatthegreatcastleoverhead.Ittoweredoverthemastheysailednearerandnearertothecliffonwhichitstood.

“Headsdown!”yelledHagridasthefirstboatsreachedthecliff;theyallbenttheirheadsandthelittleboatscarriedthemthroughacurtainofivythathidawideopening in thecliff face.Theywerecarriedalongadark tunnel,whichseemedtobetakingthemrightunderneaththecastle,untiltheyreachedakindofundergroundharbor,wheretheyclamberedoutontorocksandpebbles.

“Oy,youthere!Isthisyourtoad?”saidHagrid,whowascheckingtheboatsaspeopleclimbedoutofthem.

“Trevor!” criedNeville blissfully, holding out his hands.Then theyclamberedupapassagewayintherockafterHagrid’slamp,comingoutat lastontosmooth,dampgrassrightintheshadowofthecastle.

Theywalkedupaflightofstonestepsandcrowdedaroundthehuge,oakfrontdoor.

“Everyonehere?Youthere,stillgotyertoad?”

Hagridraisedagiganticfistandknockedthreetimesonthecastledoor.

HP1-HarryPotterandtheSorcerer'sStone

CHAPTERSEVEN

THESORTINGHAT

Thedoorswungopenatonce.Atall,black-hairedwitchinemerald-greenrobesstood there.ShehadaverysternfaceandHarry’s first thoughtwas thatthiswasnotsomeonetocross.

“Thefirs’years,ProfessorMcGonagall,”saidHagrid.“Thankyou,Hagrid.Iwilltakethemfromhere.”Shepulledthedoorwide.Theentrancehallwassobigyoucouldhave

fitthewholeoftheDursleys’houseinit.Thestonewallswerelitwithflamingtorches like theonesatGringotts, theceilingwas toohigh tomakeout, andamagnificentmarblestaircasefacingthemledtotheupperfloors.

They followedProfessorMcGonagall across the flagged stone floor.Harrycouldhearthedroneofhundredsofvoicesfromadoorwaytotheright—therestoftheschoolmustalreadybehere—butProfessorMcGonagallshowedthe first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in,standingratherclosertogetherthantheywouldusuallyhavedone,peeringaboutnervously.

“Welcome toHogwarts,” said ProfessorMcGonagall. “The start-of-termbanquetwillbeginshortly,butbeforeyoutakeyourseatsintheGreatHall,youwillbesortedintoyourhouses.TheSortingisaveryimportantceremonybecause, while you are here, your house will be something like your familywithinHogwarts.Youwillhaveclasseswiththerestofyourhouse,sleepinyourhousedormitory,andspendfreetimeinyourhousecommonroom.

“The four houses are calledGryffindor,Hufflepuff,Ravenclaw, andSlytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has producedoutstandingwitchesandwizards.WhileyouareatHogwarts,yourtriumphswillearnyourhousepoints,whileanyrulebreakingwilllosehousepoints.Attheendof the year, the housewith themost points is awarded the house cup, a greathonor.Ihopeeachofyouwillbeacredittowhicheverhousebecomesyours.

“TheSortingCeremonywilltakeplaceinafewminutesinfrontoftherestoftheschool.Isuggestyouallsmartenyourselvesupasmuchasyoucanwhileyouarewaiting.”

HereyeslingeredforamomentonNeville’scloak,whichwasfastenedunderhisleftear,andonRon’ssmudgednose.Harrynervouslytriedtoflattenhishair.

“Ishallreturnwhenwearereadyforyou,”saidProfessorMcGonagall.“Pleasewaitquietly.”

Sheleftthechamber.Harryswallowed.“Howexactlydotheysortusintohouses?”heaskedRon. “Somesortoftest,Ithink.Fredsaidithurtsalot,butIthinkhewas

joking.”Harry’sheartgaveahorriblejolt.Atest?Infrontofthewholeschool?

But he didn’t knowanymagic yet—what on earthwould he have to do?Hehadn’texpectedsomethinglikethisthemomenttheyarrived.Helookedaroundanxiouslyandsawthateveryoneelse lookedterrified, too.Noonewas talkingmuch except Hermione Granger, who was whispering very fast about all thespellsshe’dlearnedandwonderingwhichoneshe’dneed.Harrytriedhardnottolistentoher.He’dneverbeenmorenervous,never,notevenwhenhe’dhadtotakeaschoolreporthometotheDursleyssayingthathe’dsomehowturnedhisteacher’s wig blue. He kept his eyes fixed on the door. Any second now,ProfessorMcGonagallwouldcomebackandleadhimtohisdoom.

Thensomethinghappenedthatmadehimjumpaboutafootintheair—severalpeoplebehindhimscreamed.

“Whatthe—?”Hegasped.Sodidthepeoplearoundhim.Abouttwentyghostshadjust

streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, theyglided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the firstyears.Theyseemedtobearguing.Whatlookedlikeafatlittlemonkwassaying:“Forgiveandforget,Isay,weoughttogivehimasecondchance—”

“MydearFriar,haven’twegivenPeevesallthechanceshedeserves?Hegivesusallabadnameandyouknow,he’snotreallyevenaghost—Isay,whatareyoualldoinghere?”

Aghostwearingaruffandtightshadsuddenlynoticedthefirstyears.Nobodyanswered.“Newstudents!”saidtheFatFriar,smilingaroundatthem.“Aboutto

beSorted,Isuppose?”Afewpeoplenoddedmutely. “Hope toseeyou inHufflepuff!”said theFriar.“Myoldhouse,you

know.”“Movealongnow,”saidasharpvoice.“TheSortingCeremony’sabout

tostart.” ProfessorMcGonagall had returned.One by one, the ghosts floated

awaythroughtheoppositewall. “Now, forma line,”ProfessorMcGonagall told the firstyears, “and

followme.”Feelingoddlyasthoughhislegshadturnedtolead,Harrygotintoline

behindaboywithsandyhair,withRonbehindhim,andtheywalkedoutofthechamber,backacrossthehall,andthroughapairofdoubledoorsintotheGreatHall.

Harryhadnevereven imaginedsuchastrangeandsplendidplace. Itwaslitbythousandsandthousandsofcandlesthatwerefloatinginmidairoverfour long tables,where the restof thestudentsweresitting.These tableswerelaidwithglitteringgoldenplatesandgoblets.Atthetopofthehallwasanotherlong tablewhere the teacherswere sitting. ProfessorMcGonagall led the firstyearsuphere,sothattheycametoahaltinalinefacingtheotherstudents,withtheteachersbehindthem.Thehundredsoffacesstaringatthemlookedlikepalelanternsintheflickeringcandlelight.Dottedhereandthereamongthestudents,theghostsshonemistysilver.Mainlytoavoidallthestaringeyes,Harrylookedupward and sawavelvetyblack ceilingdottedwith stars.HeheardHermionewhisper,“Itsbewitchedtolookliketheskyoutside.IreadaboutitinHogwarts,AHistory.”

Itwashardtobelievetherewasaceilingthereatall,andthattheGreatHalldidn’tsimplyopenontotheheavens.

Harry quickly looked down again as ProfessorMcGonagall silentlyplacedafour-leggedstoolinfrontofthefirstyears.Ontopofthestoolsheputapointedwizard’shat.Thishatwaspatchedandfrayedandextremelydirty.AuntPetuniawouldn’thaveletitinthehouse.

Maybetheyhadtotryandgetarabbitoutofit,Harrythoughtwildly,that seemed the sort of thing— noticing that everyone in the hall was nowstaring at the hat, he stared at it, too. For a few seconds, therewas completesilence.Thenthehattwitched.Aripnearthebrimopenedwidelikeamouth—andthehatbegantosing:

“Oh,youmaynotthinkI’mpretty,Butdon’tjudgeonwhatyousee,I’lleatmyselfifyoucanfindAsmarterhatthanme.Youcankeepyourbowlersblack,Yourtophatssleekandtall,ForI’mtheHogwartsSortingHatAndIcancapthemall.There’snothinghiddeninyourheadTheSortingHatcan’tsee,

SotrymeonandIwilltellyouWhereyououghttobe.YoumightbelonginGryffindor,Wheredwellthebraveatheart,Theirdaring,nerve,andchivalrySetGryffindorsapart;YoumightbelonginHufflepuff,Wheretheyarejustandloyal,ThosepatientHufflepuffsaretrueAndunafraidoftoil;OryetinwiseoldRavenclaw,ifyou’veareadymind,Wherethoseofwitandlearning,Willalwaysfindtheirkind;OrperhapsinSlytherinYou’llmakeyourrealfriends,ThosecunningfolkuseanymeansToachievetheirends.Soputmeon!Don’tbeafraid!Anddon’tgetinaflap!You’reinsafehands(thoughIhavenone)ForI’maThinkingCap!”

Thewholehallburstintoapplauseasthehatfinisheditssong.Itbowedtoeachofthefourtablesandthenbecamequitestillagain.

“Sowe’vejustgottotryonthehat!”RonwhisperedtoHarry.“I’llkillFred,hewasgoingonaboutwrestlingatroll.”

Harry. smiled weakly. Yes, trying on the hat was a lot better thanhavingtodoaspell,buthedidwishtheycouldhavetrieditonwithouteveryonewatching.Thehat seemed tobeasking rather a lot;Harrydidn’t feelbraveorquick-wittedoranyofitatthemoment.Ifonlythehathadmentionedahouseforpeoplewhofeltabitqueasy,thatwouldhavebeentheoneforhim.

ProfessorMcGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll ofparchment.

“WhenIcallyourname,youwillputonthehatandsitonthestooltobesorted,”shesaid.“Abbott,Hannah!”

Apink-facedgirlwithblondepigtailsstumbledoutofline,putonthehat,whichfellrightdownoverhereyes,andsatdown.Amomentspause—

“HUFFLEPUFF!”shoutedthehat.

ThetableontherightcheeredandclappedasHannahwenttositdownat theHufflepuff table.Harrysawtheghostof theFatFriarwavingmerrilyather.

“Bones,Susan!” “HUFFLEPUFF!”shoutedthehatagain,andSusanscuttledofftosit

nexttoHannah.“Boot,Terry!”“RAVENCLAW!” Thetablesecondfromtheleftclappedthis time;severalRavenclaws

stooduptoshakehandswithTerryashejoinedthem.“Brocklehurst,Mandy”wenttoRavenclawtoo,but“Brown,Lavender”

became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded withcheers;HarrycouldseeRon’stwinbrotherscatcalling.

“Bulstrode,Millicent”thenbecameaSlytherin.PerhapsitwasHarry’simagination,afterallhe’dheardaboutSlytherin,buthethoughttheylookedlikeanunpleasantlot.

He was starting to feel definitely sick now. He remembered beingpicked for teamsduringgymathisold school.Hehadalwaysbeen last tobechosen,notbecausehewasnogood,butbecausenoonewantedDudleytothinktheylikedhim.

“Finch-Fletchley,Justin!”“HUFFLEPUFF!”Sometimes,Harrynoticed,thehatshoutedoutthehouseatonce,butat

othersittookalittlewhiletodecide.“Finnigan,Seamus,”thesandy-hairedboynexttoHarryintheline,satonthestoolforalmostawholeminutebeforethehatdeclaredhimaGryffindor.

“Granger,Hermione!”Hermionealmostrantothestoolandjammedthehateagerlyonher

head.“GRYFFINDOR!”shoutedthehat.Rongroaned.AhorriblethoughtstruckHarry,ashorriblethoughtsalwaysdowhen

you’reverynervous.What ifhewasn’tchosenatall?What ifhejustsat therewiththehatoverhiseyesforages,untilProfessorMcGonagalljerkeditoffhisheadandsaidtherehadobviouslybeenamistakeandhe’dbettergetbackonthetrain?

When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, wascalled,hefelloveronhiswayto thestool.Thehat tooka longtimetodecidewith Neville.When it finally shouted, “GRYFFINDOR,” Neville ran off stillwearingit,andhadtojogbackamidgalesoflaughtertogiveitto“MacDougal,

Morag.”Malfoyswaggeredforwardwhenhisnamewascalledandgothiswish

atonce:thehathadbarelytouchedhisheadwhenitscreamed,“SLYTHERIN!”MalfoywenttojoinhisfriendsCrabbeandGoyle,lookingpleasedwith

himself. There weren’t many people left now. “Moon”…, “Nott”…,

“Parkinson”…, then a pair of twin girls, “Patil” and “Patil”…, then “Perks,Sally-Anne”…,andthen,atlast—

“Potter,Harry!” As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little

hissingfiresalloverthehall.“Potter,didshesay?”“TheHarryPotter?”ThelastthingHarrysawbeforethehatdroppedoverhiseyeswasthe

hallfullofpeoplecraningtogetagoodlookathim.Nextsecondhewaslookingattheblackinsideofthehat.Hewaited.

“Hmm,”saidasmallvoiceinhisear.“Difficult.Verydifficult.Plentyofcourage,Isee.Notabadmindeither.There’stalent,Amygoodness,yes—andanicethirsttoproveyourself,nowthat’sinteresting….SowhereshallIputyou?”

Harrygripped theedgesof the stooland thought,NotSlytherin,notSlytherin.

“NotSlytherin,eh?”saidthesmallvoice.“Areyousure?Youcouldbegreat,youknow, it’sallhere inyourhead,andSlytherinwillhelpyouon theway togreatness,nodoubtabout that—no?Well, ifyou’resure—betterbeGRYFFINDOR!”

Harryheardthehatshoutthelastwordtothewholehall.Hetookoffthehatandwalkedshakily toward theGryffindor table.Hewas so relieved tohavebeenchosenandnotputinSlytherin,hehardlynoticedthathewasgettingthe loudestcheeryet.Percy thePrefectgotupandshookhishandvigorously,whiletheWeasleytwinsyelled,“WegotPotter!WegotPotter!”Harrysatdownoppositetheghostintheruffhe’dseenearlier.Theghostpattedhisarm,givingHarrythesudden,horriblefeelinghe’djustplungeditintoabucketofice-coldwater.

HecouldseetheHighTableproperlynow.AttheendnearesthimsatHagrid,whocaughthiseyeandgavehim the thumbsup.Harrygrinnedback.And there, in the center of the High Table, in a large gold chair, sat AlbusDumbledore.Harryrecognizedhimatoncefromthecardhe’dgottenoutoftheChocolateFrogonthetrain.Dumbledore’ssilverhairwastheonlythinginthe

wholehallthatshoneasbrightlyastheghosts.HarryspottedProfessorQuirrell,too, the nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron. He was looking verypeculiarinalargepurpleturban.

And now there were only three people left to be sorted. “Thomas,Dean,”aBlackboyeven taller thanRon, joinedHarryat theGryffindor table.“Turpin,Lisa,”becameaRavenclawand then itwasRon’s turn.Hewaspalegreenbynow.Harrycrossedhis fingersunder the tableandasecond later thehathadshouted,“GRYFFINDOR!”

HarryclappedloudlywiththerestasRoncollapsedintothechairnexttohim.

“Well done,Ron, excellent,” said PercyWeasley pompously acrossHarryas “Zabini,Blaise,”wasmadeaSlytherin.ProfessorMcGonagall rolledupherscrollandtooktheSortingHataway.

Harrylookeddownathisemptygoldplate.Hehadonlyjustrealizedhowhungryhewas.Thepumpkinpastiesseemedagesago.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at thestudents,hisarmsopenedwide,asifnothingcouldhavepleasedhimmorethantoseethemallthere.

“Welcome,”hesaid.“WelcometoanewyearatHogwarts!Beforewebeginourbanquet,Iwouldliketosayafewwords.Andheretheyare:Nitwit!Blubber!Oddment!Tweak!

“Thankyou!”Hesatbackdown.Everybodyclappedandcheered.Harrydidn’tknow

whethertolaughornot.“Ishe—abitmad?”heaskedPercyuncertainly.“Mad?”saidPercyairily.“He’sagenius!Bestwizardintheworld!But

heisabitmad,yes.Potatoes,Harry?”Harry’smouthfellopen.Thedishesinfrontofhimwerenowpiledwith

food.Hehadneverseensomanythingshelikedtoeatononetable:roastbeef,roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiledpotatoes,roastpotatoes,fries,Yorkshirepudding,peas,carrots,gravy,ketchup,and,forsomestrangereason,pepperminthumbugs.

TheDursleys had never exactly starvedHarry, but he’d never beenallowedtoeatasmuchasheliked.DudleyhadalwaystakenanythingthatHarryreally wanted, even if It made him sick. Harry piled his plate with a bit ofeverythingexceptthepeppermintsandbegantoeat.Itwasalldelicious.

“Thatdoeslookgood,”saidtheghostintheruffsadly,watchingHarrycutuphissteak.

“Can’tyou—?”

“Ihaven’teatenfornearlyfivehundredyears,”saidtheghost.“Idon’tneedto,ofcourse,butonedoesmissit.Idon’tthinkI’veintroducedmyself?SirNicholas deMimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of GryffindorTower.”

“Iknowwhoyouare!”saidRonsuddenly.“Mybrotherstoldmeaboutyou—you’reNearlyHeadlessNick!”

“IwouldpreferyoutocallmeSirNicholasdeMimsy—”theghostbeganstiffly,butsandy-hairedSeamusFinniganinterrupted.

“NearlyHeadless?Howcanyoubenearlyheadless?”SirNicholaslookedextremelymiffed,asiftheirlittlechatwasn’tgoing

atallthewayhewanted. “Like this,” he said irritably.He seized his left ear and pulled.His

wholeheadswungoffhisneckandfellontohisshoulderasifitwasonahinge.Someonehadobviouslytriedtobeheadhim,butnotdoneitproperly.Lookingpleased at the stunned looks on their faces, NearlyHeadlessNick flipped hishead back onto his neck, coughed, and said, “So— newGryffindors! I hopeyou’regoingtohelpuswinthehousechampionshipthisyear?Gryffindorshavenevergonesolongwithoutwinning.Slytherinshavegotthecupsixyearsinarow! The Bloody Baron’s becoming almost unbearable— he’s the Slytheringhost.”

HarrylookedoverattheSlytherintableandsawahorribleghostsittingthere,withblankstaringeyes,agauntface,androbesstainedwithsilverblood.Hewas right next toMalfoy who, Harry was pleased to see, didn’t look toopleasedwiththeseatingarrangements.

“Howdidhegetcoveredinblood?”askedSeamuswithgreatinterest.“I’veneverasked,”saidNearlyHeadlessNickdelicately. Wheneveryonehadeatenasmuchas theycould, the remainsof the

foodfadedfromtheplates, leaving themsparklingcleanasbefore.Amomentlaterthedessertsappeared.Blocksoficecreamineveryflavoryoucouldthinkof, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle,strawberries,Jell-O,ricepudding…

As Harry helped himself to a treacle tart, the talk turned to theirfamilies.

“I’mhalf-and-half,”saidSeamus.“Medad’saMuggle.Momdidn’ttellhimshewasawitch’tilaftertheyweremarried.Bitofanastyshockforhim.”

Theotherslaughed.“Whataboutyou,Neville?”saidRon.“Well,mygranbroughtmeupandshe’sawitch,”saidNeville,“butthe

familythoughtIwasall-Muggleforages.MyGreatUncleAlgiekepttryingto

catchmeoffmyguardandforcesomemagicoutofme—hepushedmeofftheendofBlackpoolpieronce, Inearlydrowned—butnothinghappeneduntil Iwaseight.GreatUncleAlgiecameroundfordinner,andhewashangingmeoutofanupstairswindowbytheankleswhenmyGreatAuntieEnidofferedhimameringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced— all the way down thegardenandintotheroad.Theywereallreallypleased,Granwascrying,shewasso happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here— theythoughtImightnotbemagicenoughtocome,yousee.GreatUncleAlgiewassopleasedheboughtmemytoad.”

OnHarry’sotherside,PercyWeasleyandHermioneweretalkingaboutlessons (“I do hope they start right away, there’s so much to learn, I’mparticularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something intosomething else, of course, it’s supposed to be very difficult —”; “You’ll bestartingsmall,justmatchesintoneedlesandthatsortofthing—”).

Harry,whowasstartingtofeelwarmandsleepy,lookedupattheHighTableagain.Hagridwasdrinkingdeeplyfromhisgoblet.ProfessorMcGonagallwas talking toProfessorDumbledore.ProfessorQuirrell, in his absurd turban,wastalkingtoateacherwithgreasyblackhair,ahookednose,andsallowskin.

It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked pastQuirrell’sturbanstraightintoHarry’seyes—andasharp,hotpainshotacrossthescaronHarry’sforehead.

“Ouch!”Harryclappedahandtohishead.“Whatisit?”askedPercy.“N-nothing.”Thepainhadgoneasquicklyasithadcome.Hardertoshakeoffwas

thefeelingHarryhadgottenfromtheteacher’slook—afeelingthathedidn’tlikeHarryatall.

“Who’sthatteachertalkingtoProfessorQuirrell?”heaskedPercy. “Oh,youknowQuirrellalready,doyou?Nowonderhe’slookingso

nervous, that’sProfessorSnape.HeteachesPotions,buthedoesn’twant to—everyone knows he’s afterQuirrell’s job.Knows an awful lot about theDarkArts,Snape.”

HarrywatchedSnapeforawhile,butSnapedidn’tlookathimagain.Atlast,thedessertstoodisappeared,andProfessorDumbledoregotto

hisfeetagain.Thehallfellsilent.“Ahem—justafewmorewordsnowthatweareallfedandwatered.I

haveafewstart-of-termnoticestogiveyou.“Firstyearsshouldnotethattheforestonthegroundsisforbiddentoall

pupils.Andafewofourolderstudentswoulddowelltorememberthataswell.”

Dumbledore’s twinklingeyesflashed in thedirectionof theWeasleytwins.

“IhavealsobeenaskedbyMr.Filch,thecaretaker,toremindyouallthatnomagicshouldbeusedbetweenclassesinthecorridors.

“Quidditchtrialswillbeheldinthesecondweekoftheterm.AnyoneinterestedinplayingfortheirhouseteamsshouldcontactMadamHooch.

“Andfinally,Imusttellyouthatthisyear,thethird-floorcorridorontheright-handsideisoutofboundstoeveryonewhodoesnotwishtodieaverypainfuldeath.”

Harrylaughed,buthewasoneofthefewwhodid.“He’snotserious?”hemutteredtoPercy.“Mustbe,”saidPercy,frowningatDumbledore.“It’sodd,becausehe

usuallygivesusareasonwhywe’renotallowedtogosomewhere—theforest’sfullofdangerousbeasts,everyoneknowsthat.Idothinkhemighthavetoldusprefects,atleast.”

“Andnow,beforewego tobed, let us sing the school song!” criedDumbledore. Harry noticed that the other teachers’ smiles had become ratherfixed.

Dumbledoregavehiswandalittleflick,asifhewastryingtogetaflyofftheend,andalonggoldenribbonflewoutofit,whichrosehighabovethetablesandtwisteditself,snakelike,intowords.

“Everyonepicktheirfavoritetune,”saidDumbledore,“andoffwego!”Andtheschoolbellowed:“Hogwarts,Hogwarts,HoggyWartyHogwarts,Teachussomethingplease,WhetherwebeoldandbaldOryoungwithscabbyknees,OurheadscoulddowithfillingWithsomeinterestingstuff,Fornowthey’rebareandfullofair,Deadfliesandbitsoffluff,Soteachusthingsworthknowing,Bringbackwhatwe’veforgot,justdoyourbest,we’lldotherest,Andlearnuntilourbrainsallrot.”

Everybody finished the song at different times.At last, only theWeasleytwins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledoreconductedtheirlastfewlineswithhiswandandwhentheyhadfinished,hewas

oneofthosewhoclappedloudest.“Ah,music,”hesaid,wipinghiseyes.“Amagicbeyondallwedohere!

Andnow,bedtime.Offyoutrot!” The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering

crowds,outoftheGreatHall,andupthemarblestaircase.Harry’slegswerelikeleadagain,butonlybecausehewassotiredandfulloffood.Hewastoosleepyeventobesurprisedthatthepeopleintheportraitsalongthecorridorswhisperedand pointed as they passed, or that twice Percy led them through doorwayshidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed morestaircases,yawninganddraggingtheirfeet,andHarrywasjustwonderinghowmuchfarthertheyhadtogowhentheycametoasuddenhalt.

Abundleofwalkingstickswasfloatinginmidairaheadofthem,andasPercytookasteptowardthemtheystartedthrowingthemselvesathim.

“Peeves,”Percywhisperedtothefirstyears.“Apoltergeist.”Heraisedhisvoice,“Peeves—showyourself.”

Aloud,rudesound,liketheairbeingletoutofaballoon,answered.“DoyouwantmetogototheBloodyBaron?” Therewasapop,andalittlemanwithwicked,darkeyesandawide

mouthappeared,floatingcross-leggedintheair,clutchingthewalkingsticks.“Oooooooh!”hesaid,withanevilcackle.“IckleFirsties!Whatfun!”Heswoopedsuddenlyatthem.Theyallducked.“Goaway,Peeves,ortheBaron’llhearaboutthis,Imeanit!”barked

Percy.Peevesstuckouthistongueandvanished,droppingthewalkingsticks

onNeville’shead.Theyheardhimzoomingaway,rattlingcoatsofarmorashepassed.

“YouwanttowatchoutforPeeves,”saidPercy,astheysetoffagain.“TheBloodyBaron’stheonlyonewhocancontrolhim,hewon’tevenlistentousprefects.Hereweare.”

Attheveryendofthecorridorhungaportraitofaveryfatwomaninapinksilkdress.

“Password?”shesaid.“CaputDraconis,”saidPercy,andtheportraitswungforwardtoreveal

aroundholeinthewall.Theyallscrambledthroughit—Nevilleneededalegup— and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, roundroomfullofsquashyarmchairs.

Percydirected thegirls throughonedoor to their dormitory and theboysthroughanother.Atthetopofaspiralstaircase—theywereobviouslyinoneof the towers— they found theirbedsat last: five four-postershungwith

deepred,velvetcurtains.Theirtrunkshadalreadybeenbroughtup.Tootiredtotalkmuch,theypulledontheirpajamasandfellintobed.

“Great food, isn’t it?”Ronmuttered toHarry through thehangings.“Getoff,Scabbers!He’schewingmysheets.”

HarrywasgoingtoaskRonifhe’dhadanyofthetreacletart,buthefellasleepalmostatonce.

PerhapsHarryhadeatenabittoomuch,becausehehadaverystrangedream.HewaswearingProfessorQuirrell’s turban,whichkept talking tohim,telling him he must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was his destiny.Harry told the turban he didn’t want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier andheavier;hetriedtopullitoffbutittightenedpainfully—andtherewasMalfoy,laughing at him as he struggledwith it— thenMalfoy turned into the hook-nosedteacher,Snape,whoselaughbecamehighandcold—therewasaburstofgreenlightandHarrywoke,sweatingandshaking.

Herolledoverandfellasleepagain,andwhenhewokenextday,hedidn’trememberthedreamatall.

HP1-HarryPotterandtheSorcerer'sStone

CHAPTEREIGHT

THEPOTIONSMASTER

There,look.”“Where?”“Nexttothetallkidwiththeredhair.”“Wearingtheglasses?”“Didyouseehisface?”“Didyouseehisscar?” Whispers followedHarry from themomenthe lefthisdormitory the

next day. People lining upoutside classrooms stoodon tiptoe to get a look athim,ordoubledback topasshimin thecorridorsagain,staring.Harrywishedthey wouldn’t, because he was trying to concentrate on finding his way toclasses.

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide,sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on aFriday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember tojump.Then thereweredoors thatwouldn’t openunless you askedpolitely, ortickledtheminexactlytherightplace,anddoorsthatweren’treallydoorsatall,but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember whereanythingwas, because it all seemed tomove around a lot. The people in theportraitskeptgoing tovisiteachother,andHarrywassure thecoatsofarmorcouldwalk.

Theghostsdidn’thelp,either.Itwasalwaysanastyshockwhenoneofthemglidedsuddenlythroughadooryouweretryingtoopen.NearlyHeadlessNick was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, butPeeves thePoltergeistwasworth two lockeddoorsanda trickstaircase ifyoumet himwhen youwere late for class.Hewould dropwastepaper baskets onyourhead,pullrugsfromunderyourfeet,peltyouwithbitsofchalk,orsneakupbehindyou,invisible,grabyournose,andscreech,“GOTYOURCONK!”

EvenworsethanPeeves,ifthatwaspossible,wasthecaretaker,ArgusFilch.HarryandRonmanagedtogetonthewrongsideofhimontheirveryfirstmorning. Filch found them trying to force their way through a door thatunluckilyturnedouttobetheentrancetotheout-of-boundscorridoronthethirdfloor.Hewouldn’t believe theywere lost,was sure theywere trying to breakintoitonpurpose,andwasthreateningtolocktheminthedungeonswhenthey

wererescuedbyProfessorQuirrell,whowaspassing.FilchownedacatcalledMrs.Norris,ascrawny,dust-coloredcreature

withbulging,lamplikeeyesjustlikeFilch’s.Shepatrolledthecorridorsalone.Breakaruleinfrontofher,putjustonetoeoutofline,andshe’dwhiskoffforFilch, who’d appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch knew the secretpassageways of the school better than anyone (except perhaps the Weasleytwins)andcouldpopupassuddenlyasanyoftheghosts.Thestudentsallhatedhim,anditwasthedearestambitionofmanytogiveMrs.Norrisagoodkick.

Andthen,onceyouhadmanagedtofindthem,thereweretheclassesthemselves. Therewas a lotmore tomagic, asHarry quickly found out, thanwavingyourwandandsayingafewfunnywords.

They had to study the night skies through their telescopes everyWednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and themovementsoftheplanets.ThreetimesaweektheywentouttothegreenhousesbehindthecastletostudyHerbology,withadumpylittlewitchcalledProfessorSprout,wheretheylearnedhowtotakecareofallthestrangeplantsandfungi,andfoundoutwhattheywereusedfor.EasilythemostboringclasswasHistoryofMagic,whichwastheonlyonetaughtbyaghost.ProfessorBinnshadbeenveryoldindeedwhenhehadfallenasleepinfrontofthestaffroomfireandgotupnextmorningtoteach,leavinghisbodybehindhim.Binnsdronedonandonwhile they scribbleddownnamesanddates, andgotEmetic theEvil andUrictheOddballmixedup.

ProfessorFlitwick,theCharmsteacher,wasatinylittlewizardwhohadtostandonapileofbookstoseeoverhisdesk.Atthestartoftheirfirstclasshetooktherollcall,andwhenhereachedHarry’snamehegaveanexcitedsqueakandtoppledoutofsight.

ProfessorMcGonagallwasagaindifferent.Harryhadbeenquiterighttothinkshewasn’tateachertocross.Strictandclever,shegavethematalking-tothemomenttheysatdowninherfirstclass.

“Transfigurationissomeofthemostcomplexanddangerousmagicyouwill learn at Hogwarts,” she said. “Anyone messing around in my class willleaveandnotcomeback.Youhavebeenwarned.”

Thenshechangedherdesk intoapigandbackagain.Theywereallvery impressedandcouldn’twait togetstarted,butsoonrealized theyweren’tgoingtobechangingthefurnitureintoanimalsforalongtime.Aftertakingalotofcomplicatednotes,theywereeachgivenamatchandstartedtryingtoturnitintoaneedle.By theendof the lesson,onlyHermioneGrangerhadmadeanydifferencetohermatch;ProfessorMcGonagallshowedtheclasshowithadgoneallsilverandpointyandgaveHermioneararesmile.

Theclass everyonehad reallybeen looking forward towasDefenseAgainsttheDarkArts,butQuirrell’slessonsturnedouttobeabitofajoke.Hisclassroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off avampirehe’dmetinRomaniaandwasafraidwouldbecomingbacktogethimoneofthesedays.Histurban,hetoldthem,hadbeengiventohimbyanAfricanprinceasathank-youforgettingridofatroublesomezombie,buttheyweren’tsure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan askedeagerlytohearhowQuirrellhadfoughtoffthezombie,Quirrellwentpinkandstarted talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funnysmellhungaroundtheturban,andtheWeasleytwinsinsistedthatitwasstuffedfullofgarlicaswell,sothatQuirrellwasprotectedwhereverhewent.

Harry was very relieved to find out that he wasn’t miles behindeveryone else. Lots of people had come fromMuggle families and, like him,hadn’thadanyideathattheywerewitchesandwizards.TherewassomuchtolearnthatevenpeoplelikeRondidn’thavemuchofaheadstart.

FridaywasanimportantdayforHarryandRon.TheyfinallymanagedtofindtheirwaydowntotheGreatHallforbreakfastwithoutgettinglostonce.

“Whathavewegottoday?”HarryaskedRonashepouredsugaronhisporridge.

“Double Potions with the Slytherins,” said Ron. “Snape’s Head ofSlytherinHouse.Theysayhealwaysfavorsthem—we’llbeabletoseeifit’strue.”

“WishMcGonagallfavoredus,”saidHarry.ProfessorMcGonagallwashead ofGryffindorHouse, but it hadn’t stopped her fromgiving thema hugepileofhomeworkthedaybefore.

Justthen,themailarrived.Harryhadgottenusedtothisbynow,butithadgivenhimabitofashockonthefirstmorning,whenaboutahundredowlshadsuddenlystreamed into theGreatHallduringbreakfast, circling the tablesuntiltheysawtheirowners,anddroppinglettersandpackagesontotheirlaps.

Hedwighadn’tbroughtHarryanythingsofar.Shesometimesflewintonibblehisearandhaveabitoftoastbeforegoingofftosleepintheowlerywiththeotherschoolowls.Thismorning,however,shefluttereddownbetween themarmaladeandthesugarbowlanddroppedanoteontoHarry’splate.Harrytoreitopenatonce.Itsaid,inaveryuntidyscrawl:

DearHarry,IknowyougetFridayafternoonsoff,sowouldyouliketocomeandhavea

cupofteawithmearoundthree?I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with

Hedwig.Hagrid

Harry borrowed Ron’s quill, scribbled Yes, please, see you later on thebackofthenote,andsentHedwigoffagain.

ItwasluckythatHarryhadteawithHagridtolookforwardto,becausethePotionslessonturnedouttobetheworstthingthathadhappenedtohimsofar.

Atthestart-of-termbanquet,HarryhadgottentheideathatProfessorSnapedislikedhim.By theendof the firstPotions lesson,heknewhe’dbeenwrong.Snapedidn’tdislikeHarry—hehatedhim.

Potionslessonstookplacedowninoneofthedungeons.Itwascolderhere than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enoughwithoutthepickledanimalsfloatinginglassjarsallaroundthewalls.

Snape, likeFlitwick,startedtheclassbytakingtherollcall,andlikeFlitwick,hepausedatHarry’sname.

“Ah,Yes,”hesaidsoftly,“HarryPotter.Ournew—celebrity.”DracoMalfoyandhisfriendsCrabbeandGoylesniggeredbehindtheir

hands. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyeswereblacklikeHagrid’s,buttheyhadnoneofHagrid’swarmth.Theywerecoldandemptyandmadeyouthinkofdarktunnels.

“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art ofpotionmaking,” he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but theycaughteveryword—likeProfessorMcGonagall,Snapehadthegiftofkeepingaclasssilentwithouteffort.“Asthereislittlefoolishwand-wavinghere,manyofyouwillhardlybelievethisismagic.Idon’texpectyouwillreallyunderstandthe beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, thedelicatepowerofliquidsthatcreepthroughhumanveins,bewitchingthemind,ensnaring the senses.…I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, evenstopperdeath—ifyouaren’tasbigabunchofdunderheadsasIusuallyhavetoteach.”

More silence followed this little speech.Harry andRon exchangedlookswithraisedeyebrows.HermioneGrangerwasontheedgeofherseatandlookeddesperatetostartprovingthatshewasn’tadunderhead.

“Potter!”saidSnapesuddenly.“WhatwouldIgetifIaddedpowderedrootofasphodeltoaninfusionofwormwood?”

Powderedrootofwhattoaninfusionofwhat?HarryglancedatRon,wholookedasstumpedashewas;Hermione’shandhadshotintotheair.

“Idon’tknow,sir,”saidHarry.

Snape’slipscurledintoasneer.“Tut,tut—fameclearlyisn’teverything.”HeignoredHermione’shand.“Let’stryagain.Potter,wherewouldyoulookifItoldyoutofindmea

bezoar?”Hermionestretchedherhandashighintotheairasitwouldgowithout

herleavingherseat,butHarrydidn’thavethefaintestideawhatabezoarwas.He tried not to look at Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were shaking withlaughter.

“Idon’tknow,sir.”“Thoughtyouwouldn’topenabookbeforecoming,eh,Potter?”Harry

forced himself to keep looking straight into those cold eyes. He had lookedthrough his books at the Dursleys’, but did Snape expect him to remembereverythinginOneThousandMagicalHerbsandFungi?

SnapewasstillignoringHermione’squiveringhand.“Whatisthedifference,Potter,betweenmonkshoodandwolfsbane?” At this,Hermionestoodup,herhandstretching toward thedungeon

ceiling. “Idon’tknow,”saidHarryquietly.“I thinkHermionedoes, though,

whydon’tyoutryher?” A few people laughed; Harry caught Seamus’s eye, and Seamus

winked.Snape,however,wasnotpleased. “Sit down,”he snappedatHermione. “Foryour information,Potter,

asphodelandwormwoodmakeasleepingpotionsopowerfulitisknownastheDraughtofLivingDeath.Abezoarisastonetakenfromthestomachofagoatanditwillsaveyoufrommostpoisons.Asformonkshoodandwolfsbane,theyare thesameplant,whichalsogoesby thenameofaconite.Well?Whyaren’tyouallcopyingthatdown?”

Therewas a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment.Over thenoise,Snapesaid,“Andapointwillbe taken fromGryffindorHouse foryourcheek,Potter.”

Things didn’t improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lessoncontinued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them tomixing up a simplepotion to cure boils.He swept around in his long black cloak,watching themweigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone exceptMalfoy,whomhe seemed to like.Hewas just telling everyone to look at theperfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid greensmokeandaloudhissingfilledthedungeon.NevillehadsomehowmanagedtomeltSeamus’scauldronintoatwistedblob,andtheirpotionwasseepingacross

thestonefloor,burningholesinpeople’sshoes.Withinseconds,thewholeclasswasstandingontheirstoolswhileNeville,whohadbeendrenchedinthepotionwhen the cauldron collapsed,moaned in pain as angry redboils sprangup alloverhisarmsandlegs.

“Idiotboy!”snarledSnape,clearingthespilledpotionawaywithonewaveofhiswand.“Isupposeyouaddedtheporcupinequillsbeforetakingthecauldronoffthefire?”

Nevillewhimperedasboilsstartedtopopupalloverhisnose. “Takehimup to thehospitalwing,”Snape spatatSeamus.Thenhe

roundedonHarryandRon,whohadbeenworkingnexttoNeville. “You— Potter—why didn’t you tell him not to add the quills?

Thoughthe’dmakeyou lookgood ifhegot itwrong,didyou?That’sanotherpointyou’velostforGryffindor.”

Thiswas so unfair thatHarry opened hismouth to argue, but Ronkickedhimbehindtheircauldron.

“Don’tpushit,”hemuttered,“I’veheardSnapecanturnverynasty.” As theyclimbed the stepsoutof thedungeonanhour later,Harry’s

mindwasracingandhisspiritswerelow.He’dlosttwopointsforGryffindorinhisveryfirstweek—whydidSnapehatehimsomuch?

“Cheer up,” said Ron, “Snape’s always taking points off Fred andGeorge.CanIcomeandmeetHagridwithyou?”

At five to three they left the castle andmade their way across thegrounds. Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the forbiddenforest.Acrossbowandapairofgalosheswereoutsidethefrontdoor.

WhenHarryknockedtheyheardafranticscrabblingfrominsideandseveralboomingbarks.ThenHagrid’svoice rangout, saying, “Back,Fang—back.”

Hagrid’sbig, hairy face appeared in the crackashepulled thedooropen.

“Hangon,”hesaid.“Back,Fang.”Heletthemin,strugglingtokeepaholdonthecollarofanenormous

blackboarhound. Therewasonlyone room inside.Hamsandpheasantswerehanging

fromtheceiling,acopperkettlewasboilingontheopenfire,andinthecornerstoodamassivebedwithapatchworkquiltoverit.

“Make yerselves at home,” said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, whobounded straight at Ron and started licking his ears. Like Hagrid, Fang wasclearlynotasfierceashelooked.

“ThisisRon,”HarrytoldHagrid,whowaspouringboilingwaterintoa

largeteapotandputtingrockcakesontoaplate.“AnotherWeasley,eh?”saidHagrid,glancingatRon’sfreckles.Ispent

halfmelifechasin’yertwinbrothersawayfromtheforest.” The rock cakeswere shapeless lumpswith raisins that almost broke

theirteeth,butHarryandRonpretendedtobeenjoyingthemastheytoldHagridallabouttheirfirstlessons.FangrestedhisheadonHarry’skneeanddrooledalloverhisrobes.

HarryandRonweredelightedtohearHagridcallFilch“thatoldgit.” “An’ as fer that cat,Mrs.Norris, I’d like ter introduce her to Fang

sometime. D’yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows meeverywhere?Can’tgetridofher—Filchputsheruptoit.”

HarrytoldHagridaboutSnape’slesson.Hagrid,likeRon,toldHarrynottoworryaboutit,thatSnapelikedhardlyanyofthestudents.

“Butheseemedtoreallyhateme.”“Rubbish!”saidHagrid.“Whyshouldhe?”YetHarrycouldn’thelpthinkingthatHagriddidn’tquitemeethiseyes

whenhesaidthat.“How’syerbrotherCharlie?”HagridaskedRon.“Ilikedhimalot—

greatwithanimals.”HarrywonderedifHagridhadchangedthesubjectonpurpose.While

RontoldHagridallaboutCharlie’sworkwithdragons,Harrypickedupapieceofpaperthatwaslyingonthetableundertheteacozy.ItwasacuttingfromtheDailyProphet:

GRINGOTTSBREAK-INLATESTInvestigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely

believedtobetheworkofDarkwizardsorwitchesunknown.Gringottsgoblinstodayinsistedthatnothinghadbeentaken.Thevaultthat

wassearchedhadinfactbeenemptiedthesameday.“Butwe’renottellingyouwhatwasinthere,sokeepyournosesoutifyou

knowwhat’sgoodforyou,”saidaGringottsspokesgoblinthisafternoon.

HarryrememberedRon tellinghimon the train thatsomeonehad tried torobGringotts,butRonhadn’tmentionedthedate.

“Hagrid!” said Harry, “that Gringotts break-in happened on mybirthday!Itmight’vebeenhappeningwhilewewerethere!”

Therewasnodoubtaboutit,Hagriddefinitelydidn’tmeetHarry’seyesthis time.Hegruntedandofferedhimanother rockcake.Harry read the storyagain. The vault thatwas searched had in fact been emptied earlier that same

day.Hagridhademptiedvault sevenhundredand thirteen, ifyoucouldcall itemptying,takingoutthatgrubbylittlepackage.Hadthatbeenwhatthethieveswerelookingfor?

AsHarryandRonwalkedbacktothecastlefordinner,theirpocketsweigheddownwith rockcakes they’dbeen toopolite to refuse,Harry thoughtthatnoneofthelessonshe’dhadsofarhadgivenhimasmuchtothinkaboutasteawithHagrid.HadHagridcollectedthatpackagejust in time?Wherewasitnow?AnddidHagridknowsomethingaboutSnape thathedidn’twant to tellHarry?

HP1-HarryPotterandtheSorcerer'sStone

CHAPTERNINE

THEMIDNIGHTDUEL

HarryhadneverbelievedhewouldmeetaboyhehatedmorethanDudley,butthatwasbeforehemetDracoMalfoy.Still,first-yearGryffindorsonlyhadPotionswiththeSlytherins,sotheydidn’thavetoputupwithMalfoymuch.Orat least, they didn’t until they spotted a notice pinned up in the Gryffindorcommon room thatmade them all groan. Flying lessonswould be starting onThursday—andGryffindorandSlytherinwouldbelearningtogether.

“Typical,”saidHarrydarkly.“JustwhatIalwayswanted.TomakeafoolofmyselfonabroomstickinfrontofMalfoy.”

Hehadbeenlookingforwardtolearningtoflymorethananythingelse. “You don’t know that you’ll make a fool of yourself,” said Ron

reasonably.“Anyway,IknowMalfoy’salwaysgoingonabouthowgoodheisatQuidditch,butIbetthat’salltalk.”

Malfoycertainlydidtalkaboutflyingalot.Hecomplainedloudlyaboutfirst years never getting on the houseQuidditch teams and told long, boastfulstories that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles inhelicopters.Hewasn’t theonlyone, though: thewaySeamusFinnigan told it,he’d spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on hisbroomstick. Even Ron would tell anyone who’d listen about the time he’dalmost hit a hang glider on Charlie’s old broom. Everyone from wizardingfamiliestalkedaboutQuidditchconstantly.RonhadalreadyhadabigargumentwithDeanThomas,whosharedtheirdormitory,aboutsoccer.Roncouldn’tseewhatwasexcitingaboutagamewithonlyoneballwherenoonewasallowedtofly.Harry had caughtRonproddingDean’s poster ofWestHam soccer team,tryingtomaketheplayersmove.

Neville had never been on a broomstick in his life, because hisgrandmother had never let himnear one. Privately,Harry felt she’d had goodreason,becauseNevillemanagedtohaveanextraordinarynumberofaccidentsevenwithbothfeetontheground.

HermioneGrangerwasalmostasnervousaboutflyingasNevillewas.Thiswas somethingyoucouldn’t learnbyheartoutof abook—not that shehadn’ttried.AtbreakfastonThursdaysheboredthemallstupidwithflyingtipsshe’dgottenoutofa librarybookcalledQuidditchThrough theAges.Nevillewashangingon tohereveryword,desperate foranything thatmighthelphim

hang on to his broomstick later, but everybody else was very pleased whenHermione’slecturewasinterruptedbythearrivalofthemail.

Harry hadn’t had a single letter sinceHagrid’s note, something thatMalfoy had been quick to notice, of course. Malfoy’s eagle owl was alwaysbringinghimpackagesofsweetsfromhome,whichheopenedgloatinglyattheSlytherintable.

AbarnowlbroughtNevilleasmallpackagefromhisgrandmother.Heopened it excitedly and showed them a glass ball the size of a largemarble,whichseemedtobefullofwhitesmoke.

“It’saRemembrall!”heexplained.“GranknowsIforgetthings—thistellsyouifthere’ssomethingyou’veforgottentodo.Look,youholdittightlikethis and if it turns red— oh…” His face fell, because the Remembrall hadsuddenlyglowedscarlet,“…you’veforgottensomething….”

Neville was trying to remember what he’d forgotten when DracoMalfoy,whowaspassingtheGryffindortable,snatchedtheRemembralloutofhishand.

HarryandRonjumpedtotheirfeet.TheywerehalfhopingforareasontofightMalfoy,butProfessorMcGonagall,whocouldspottroublequickerthananyteacherintheschool,wasthereinaflash.

“What’sgoingon?”“Malfoy’sgotmyRemembrall,Professor.”Scowling,MalfoyquicklydroppedtheRemembrallbackonthetable. “Just looking,”he said, andhe slopedawaywithCrabbeandGoyle

behindhim.

Atthree-thirtythatafternoon,Harry,Ron,andtheotherGryffindorshurrieddownthefrontstepsontothegroundsfortheirfirstflyinglesson.Itwasaclear,breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down theslopinglawnstowardasmooth,flatlawnontheoppositesideofthegroundstotheforbiddenforest,whosetreeswereswayingdarklyinthedistance.

The Slytherinswere already there, and sowere twenty broomstickslying in neat lines on the ground.Harry had heard Fred andGeorgeWeasleycomplainabouttheschoolbrooms,sayingthatsomeofthemstartedtovibrateifyouflewtoohigh,oralwaysflewslightlytotheleft.

Their teacher,MadamHooch, arrived.Shehad short, grayhair, andyelloweyeslikeahawk.

“Well,whatareyouallwaitingfor?”shebarked.“Everyonestandbyabroomstick.Comeon,hurryup.”

Harryglanceddownathisbroom. Itwasoldandsomeof the twigs

stuckoutatoddangles.“Stickoutyourrighthandoveryourbroom,”calledMadamHoochat

thefront,“andsay‘Up!’”“UP”everyoneshouted.Harry’sbroomjumpedintohishandatonce,butitwasoneofthefew

that did. Hermione Granger’s had simply rolled over on the ground, andNeville’shadn’tmovedatall.Perhapsbrooms,likehorses,couldtellwhenyouwereafraid,thoughtHarry;therewasaquaverinNeville’svoicethatsaidonlytooclearlythathewantedtokeephisfeetontheground.

MadamHoochthenshowedthemhowtomounttheirbroomswithoutsliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips.HarryandRonweredelightedwhenshetoldMalfoyhe’dbeendoingitwrongforyears.

“Now,whenIblowmywhistle,youkickofffromtheground,hard,”saidMadamHooch.“Keepyourbroomssteady,riseafewfeet,andthencomestraightbackdownbyleaningforwardslightly.Onmywhistle—three—two—”

ButNeville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on theground,pushedoffhardbeforethewhistlehadtouchedMadamHooch’slips.

“Comeback,boy!”sheshouted,butNevillewasrisingstraightuplikeacork shot out of a bottle— twelve feet— twenty feet.Harry saw his scaredwhite face lookdownat thegroundfallingaway,sawhimgasp,slipsidewaysoffthebroomand—

WHAM—athudandanastycrackandNevillelayfacedownonthegrassinaheap.Hisbroomstickwasstillrisinghigherandhigher,andstartedtodriftlazilytowardtheforbiddenforestandoutofsight.

MadamHoochwasbendingoverNeville,herfaceaswhiteashis.“Brokenwrist,”Harryheardhermutter.“Comeon,boy—it’sallright,

upyouget.”Sheturnedtotherestoftheclass.“NoneofyouistomovewhileItakethisboytothehospitalwing!You

leavethosebroomswheretheyareoryou’llbeoutofHogwartsbeforeyoucansay‘Quidditch.’Comeon,dear.”

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching hiswrist, hobbled offwithMadamHooch,whohadherarmaroundhim.

NosoonerweretheyoutofearshotthanMalfoyburstintolaughter.“Didyouseehisface,thegreatlump?”TheotherSlytherinsjoinedin.“Shutup,Malfoy,”snappedParvatiPatil.

“Ooh,stickingupforLongbottom?”saidPansyParkinson,ahard-facedSlytheringirl.“Neverthoughtyou’dlikefatlittlecrybabies,Parvati.”

“Look!”saidMalfoy,dartingforwardandsnatchingsomethingoutofthegrass.“It’sthatstupidthingLongbottom’sgransenthim.”

TheRemembrallglitteredinthesunashehelditup.“Givethathere,Malfoy,”saidHarryquietly.Everyonestoppedtalking

towatch.Malfoysmilednastily.“IthinkI’llleaveitsomewhereforLongbottomtofind—howabout—

upatree?”“Giveithere!”Harryyelled,butMalfoyhadleaptontohisbroomstick

andtakenoff.Hehadn’tbeenlying,hecouldflywell.Hoveringlevelwiththetopmostbranchesofanoakhecalled,“Comeandgetit,Potter!”

Harrygrabbedhisbroom.“No!”shoutedHermioneGranger.“MadamHoochtoldusnottomove

—you’llgetusallintotrouble.” Harry ignoredher.Bloodwaspounding inhisears.Hemounted the

broom and kicked hard against the ground and up, up he soared; air rushedthroughhishair,andhisrobeswhippedoutbehindhim—andinarushoffiercejoyherealizedhe’dfoundsomethinghecoulddowithoutbeingtaught—thiswaseasy,thiswaswonderful.Hepulledhisbroomstickupalittletotakeitevenhigher,andheardscreamsandgaspsofgirlsbackonthegroundandanadmiringwhoopfromRon.

He turned his broomstick sharply to faceMalfoy inmidair.Malfoylookedstunned.

“Giveithere,”Harrycalled,“orI’llknockyouoffthatbroom!”“Oh,yeah?”saidMalfoy,tryingtosneer,butlookingworried.Harryknew,somehow,whattodo.Heleanedforwardandgraspedthe

broom tightly in both hands, and it shot towardMalfoy like a javelin.Malfoyonlyjustgotoutofthewayintime;Harrymadeasharpabout-faceandheldthebroomsteady.Afewpeoplebelowwereclapping.

“NoCrabbe andGoyle up here to save your neck,Malfoy,”Harrycalled.

ThesamethoughtseemedtohavestruckMalfoy.“Catchitifyoucan,then!”heshouted,andhethrewtheglassballhigh

intotheairandstreakedbacktowardtheground.Harrysaw,asthoughinslowmotion,theballriseupintheairandthen

start to fall. He leaned forward and pointed his broom handle down— nextsecondhewasgatheringspeedinasteepdive,racingtheball—windwhistled

inhisears,mingledwiththescreamsofpeoplewatching—hestretchedouthishand— a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broomstraight, and he toppled gently onto the grass with the Remembrall clutchedsafelyinhisfist.

“HARRYPOTTER!” Hisheartsankfasterthanhe’djustdived.ProfessorMcGonagallwas

runningtowardthem.Hegottohisfeet,trembling.“Never—inallmytimeatHogwarts—” Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her

glassesflashedfuriously,“—howdareyou—mighthavebrokenyourneck—”“Itwasn’thisfault,Professor—”“Bequiet,MissPatil—”“ButMalfoy—”“That’senough,Mr.Weasley.Potter,followme,now.”HarrycaughtsightofMalfoy,Crabbe,andGoyle’striumphantfacesas

he left,walkingnumbly inProfessorMcGonagall’swakeasshestrode towardthe castle. He was going to be expelled, he just knew it. He wanted to saysomethingtodefendhimself,butthereseemedtobesomethingwrongwithhisvoice.ProfessorMcGonagallwassweepingalongwithoutevenlookingathim;hehadtojogtokeepup.Nowhe’ddoneit.Hehadn’tevenlastedtwoweeks.He’dbepackinghisbagsintenminutes.WhatwouldtheDursleyssaywhenheturneduponthedoorstep?

Up the front steps,up themarblestaircase inside,andstillProfessorMcGonagalldidn’t sayaword tohim.ShewrenchedopendoorsandmarchedalongcorridorswithHarrytrottingmiserablybehindher.Maybeshewastakinghim toDumbledore.He thoughtofHagrid, expelledbut allowed to stayonasgamekeeper.PerhapshecouldbeHagrid’sassistant.Hisstomachtwistedasheimaginedit,watchingRonandtheothersbecomingwizards,whilehestumpedaroundthegroundscarryingHagrid’sbag.

ProfessorMcGonagall stopped outside a classroom.She opened thedoorandpokedherheadinside.

“Excuseme,ProfessorFlitwick,couldIborrowWoodforamoment?”Wood?thoughtHarry,bewildered;wasWoodacaneshewasgoingto

useonhim?ButWoodturnedouttobeaperson,aburlyfifth-yearboywhocame

outofFlitwick’sclasslookingconfused.“Followme,youtwo,”saidProfessorMcGonagall,andtheymarched

onupthecorridor,WoodlookingcuriouslyatHarry.“Inhere.”

ProfessorMcGonagallpointedthemintoaclassroomthatwasemptyexceptforPeeves,whowasbusywritingrudewordsontheblackboard.

“Out,Peeves!”shebarked.Peeves threw thechalk intoabin,whichclangedloudly,andheswoopedoutcursing.ProfessorMcGonagallslammedthedoorbehindhimandturnedtofacethetwoboys.

“Potter,thisisOliverWood.Wood—I’vefoundyouaSeeker.”Wood’sexpressionchangedfrompuzzlementtodelight.“Areyouserious,Professor?”“Absolutely,”saidProfessorMcGonagallcrisply.“Theboy’sanatural.

I’ve never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick,Potter?”

Harrynoddedsilently.Hedidn’thaveacluewhatwasgoingon,buthedidn’tseemtobebeingexpelled,andsomeofthefeelingstartedcomingbacktohislegs.

“He caught that thing in his hand after a fifty-foot dive,” ProfessorMcGonagalltoldWood.“Didn’tevenscratchhimself.CharlieWeasleycouldn’thavedoneit.”

Woodwasnowlookingasthoughallhisdreamshadcometrueatonce.“EverseenagameofQuidditch,Potter?”heaskedexcitedly. “Wood’s captain of the Gryffindor team,” Professor McGonagall

explained.“He’sjustthebuildforaSeeker,too,”saidWood,nowwalkingaround

Harry and staring at him. “Light—speedy—we’ll have to get him a decentbroom,Professor—aNimbusTwoThousandoraCleansweepSeven,I’dsay.”

“Ishall speak toProfessorDumbledoreandsee ifwecan’tbend thefirst-yearrule.Heavenknows,weneedabetterteamthanlastyear.FlattenedinthatlastmatchbySlytherin,Icouldn’tlookSeverusSnapeinthefaceforweeks.…”

ProfessorMcGonagallpeeredsternlyoverherglassesatHarry.“Iwanttohearyou’retraininghard,Potter,orImaychangemymind

aboutpunishingyou.”Thenshesuddenlysmiled.“Yourfatherwouldhavebeenproud,”shesaid.“Hewasanexcellent

Quidditchplayerhimself.”

“You’rejoking.” It was dinnertime. Harry had just finished telling Ron what had

happened when he’d left the grounds with ProfessorMcGonagall. Ron had apieceofsteakandkidneypiehalfwaytohismouth,buthe’dforgottenallabout

it.“Seeker?”hesaid.“Butfirstyearsnever—youmustbetheyoungest

houseplayerinabout—” “— a century,” said Harry, shoveling pie into his mouth. He felt

particularlyhungryaftertheexcitementoftheafternoon.“Woodtoldme.”Ronwassoamazed,soimpressed,hejustsatandgapedatHarry.“Istarttrainingnextweek,”saidHarry.“Onlydon’ttellanyone,Wood

wantstokeepitasecret.” FredandGeorgeWeasleynowcameintothehall,spottedHarry,and

hurriedover.“Welldone,”saidGeorgeinalowvoice.“Woodtoldus.We’reonthe

teamtoo—Beaters.” “Itellyou,we’regoingtowinthatQuidditchcupforsurethisyear,”

saidFred.“Wehaven’twonsinceCharlieleft,butthisyear’steamisgoingtobebrilliant.Youmustbegood,Harry,Woodwasalmostskippingwhenhetoldus.”

“Anyway,we’vegottogo,LeeJordanreckonshe’sfoundanewsecretpassagewayoutoftheschool.”

“Bet it’s that onebehind the statueofGregory theSmarmy thatwefoundinourfirstweek.Seeyou.”

Fred and George had hardly disappeared when someone far lesswelcometurnedup:Malfoy,flankedbyCrabbeandGoyle.

“Havingalastmeal,Potter?WhenareyougettingthetrainbacktotheMuggles?”

“You’realotbravernowthatyou’rebackonthegroundandyou’vegotyourlittlefriendswithyou,”saidHarrycoolly.Therewasofcoursenothingatall little aboutCrabbe andGoyle, but as theHighTablewas full of teachers,neitherofthemcoulddomorethancracktheirknucklesandscowl.

“I’dtakeyouonanytimeonmyown,”saidMalfoy.“Tonight,ifyouwant.Wizard’sduel.Wandsonly—nocontact.What’sthematter?Neverheardofawizard’sduelbefore,Isuppose?”

“Ofcoursehehas,”saidRon,wheelingaround.“I’mhissecond,who’syours?”

MalfoylookedatCrabbeandGoyle,sizingthemup. “Crabbe,”hesaid.“Midnightall right?We’llmeetyouin the trophy

room;that’salwaysunlocked.”WhenMalfoyhadgone,RonandHarrylookedateachother.“Whatisawizard’sduel?”saidHarry.“Andwhatdoyoumean,you’re

mysecond?” “Well, a second’s there to take over if you die,” saidRon casually,

getting started at last on his cold pie. Catching the look on Harry’s face, headded quickly, “But people only die in proper duels, you know, with realwizards.ThemostyouandMalfoy’llbeabletodoissendsparksateachother.Neitherofyouknowsenoughmagic todoany realdamage. Ibetheexpectedyoutorefuse,anyway.”

“AndwhatifIwavemywandandnothinghappens?”“Throwitawayandpunchhimonthenose,”Ronsuggested.“Excuseme.”Theybothlookedup.ItwasHermioneGranger.“Can’tapersoneatinpeaceinthisplace?”saidRon.HermioneignoredhimandspoketoHarry.“Icouldn’thelpoverhearingwhatyouandMalfoyweresaying—”“Betyoucould,”Ronmuttered.“—andyoumustn’tgowanderingaroundtheschoolatnight,thinkof

thepointsyou’ll loseGryffindor ifyou’recaught,andyou’reboundtobe. It’sreallyveryselfishofyou.”

“Andit’sreallynoneofyourbusiness,”saidHarry.“Good-bye,”saidRon.

All the same, itwasn’twhat you’d call theperfect end to theday,Harrythought,ashelayawakemuchlaterlisteningtoDeanandSeamusfallingasleep(Nevillewasn’tbackfromthehospitalwing).Ronhadspentalleveninggivinghim advice such as “If he tries to curse you, you’d better dodge it, because Ican’trememberhowtoblockthem.”TherewasaverygoodchancetheyweregoingtogetcaughtbyFilchorMrs.Norris,andHarryfelthewaspushinghisluck,breakinganotherschoolruletoday.Ontheotherhand,Malfoy’ssneeringface kept looming up out of the darkness— this was his big chance to beatMalfoyface-to-face.Hecouldn’tmissit.

“Half-pasteleven,”Ronmutteredatlast,“we’dbettergo.”Theypulledontheirbathrobes,pickeduptheirwands,andcreptacross

the tower room, down the spiral staircase, and into the Gryffindor commonroom.Afewemberswerestillglowinginthefireplace,turningallthearmchairsintohunchedblackshadows.Theyhadalmostreachedtheportraitholewhenavoicespokefromthechairnearestthem,“Ican’tbelieveyou’regoingtodothis,Harry.”

Alampflickeredon.ItwasHermioneGranger,wearingapinkbathrobeandafrown.

“You!”saidRonfuriously.“Gobacktobed!” “I almost told your brother,” Hermione snapped, “Percy— he’s a

prefect,he’dputastoptothis.”Harrycouldn’tbelieveanyonecouldbesointerfering.“Comeon,”hesaidtoRon.HepushedopentheportraitoftheFatLady

andclimbedthroughthehole. Hermione wasn’t going to give up that easily. She followed Ron

throughtheportraithole,hissingatthemlikeanangrygoose.“Don’tyoucareaboutGryffindor,doyouonlycareaboutyourselves,I

don’twantSlytherin towin thehousecup, andyou’ll loseall thepoints IgotfromProfessorMcGonagallforknowingaboutSwitchingSpells.”

“Goaway.” “All right, but I warned you, you just rememberwhat I saidwhen

you’reonthetrainhometomorrow,you’reso—” Butwhattheywere,theydidn’tfindout.Hermionehadturnedtothe

portrait of the Fat Lady to get back inside and found herself facing an emptypainting.TheFatLadyhadgoneonanighttimevisitandHermionewaslockedoutofGryffindortower.

“NowwhatamIgoingtodo?”sheaskedshrilly.“That’syourproblem,”saidRon.“We’vegottogo,we’regoingtobe

late.” They hadn’t even reached the end of the corridor when Hermione

caughtupwiththem.“I’mcomingwithyou,”shesaid.“Youarenot.” “D’youthinkI’mgoingtostandouthereandwait forFilch tocatch

me?IfhefindsallthreeofusI’lltellhimthetruth,thatIwastryingtostopyou,andyoucanbackmeup.”

“You’vegotsomenerve—”saidRonloudly.“Shutup,bothofyou!”saidHarrysharply.Iheardsomething.”Itwasasortofsnuffling.“Mrs.Norris?”breathedRon,squintingthroughthedark.Itwasn’tMrs.Norris.ItwasNeville.Hewascurleduponthefloor,fast

asleep,butjerkedsuddenlyawakeastheycreptnearer.“Thankgoodnessyoufoundme!I’vebeenouthereforhours,Icouldn’t

rememberthenewpasswordtogetintobed.” “Keep your voice down,Neville. The password’s ‘Pig snout’ but it

won’thelpyounow,theFatLady’sgoneoffsomewhere.”“How’syourarm?”saidHarry. “Fine,” saidNeville, showing them. “MadamPomfreymended it in

aboutaminute.”

“Good—well,look,Neville,we’vegottobesomewhere,we’llseeyoulater—”

“Don’tleaveme!”saidNeville,scramblingtohisfeet,“Idon’twanttostayherealone,theBloodyBaron’sbeenpasttwicealready.”

Ron looked at hiswatch and thenglared furiously atHermione andNeville.

“If eitherofyougetus caught, I’ll never restuntil I’ve learned thatCurseoftheBogiesQuirrelltoldusabout,anduseditonyou.”

Hermioneopenedhermouth,perhapstotellRonexactlyhowtousetheCurseoftheBogies,butHarryhissedathertobequietandbeckonedthemallforward.

They flitted along corridors stripedwithbarsofmoonlight from thehighwindows.AteveryturnHarryexpectedtorunintoFilchorMrs.Norris,buttheywerelucky.Theyspedupastaircasetothethirdfloorandtiptoedtowardthetrophyroom.

Malfoy and Crabbe weren’t there yet. The crystal trophy casesglimmeredwherethemoonlightcaught them.Cups,shields,plates,andstatueswinked silver and gold in the darkness. They edged along the walls, keepingtheireyesonthedoorsateitherendoftheroom.HarrytookouthiswandincaseMalfoyleaptinandstartedatonce.Theminutescreptby.

“He’slate,maybehe’schickenedout,”Ronwhispered. Thenanoise in thenextroommadethemjump.Harryhadonly just

raisedhiswandwhentheyheardsomeonespeak—anditwasn’tMalfoy.“Sniffaround,mysweet,theymightbelurkinginacorner.”ItwasFilchspeakingtoMrs.Norris.Horror-struck,Harrywavedmadly

at the other three to follow him as quickly as possible; they scurried silentlytoward thedoor,away fromFilch’svoice.Neville’s robeshadbarelywhippedroundthecornerwhentheyheardFilchenterthetrophyroom.

“They’re in here somewhere,” they heard him mutter, “probablyhiding.”

“Thisway!”Harrymouthedtotheothersand,petrified,theybegantocreepdownalonggalleryfullofsuitsofarmor.TheycouldhearFilchgettingnearer. Neville suddenly let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run hetripped,grabbedRonaroundthewaist,andthepairofthemtoppledrightintoasuitofarmor.

Theclangingandcrashingwereenoughtowakethewholecastle.“RUN!”Harryyelled,andthefourofthemsprinteddownthegallery,

notlookingbacktoseewhetherFilchwasfollowing—theyswungaroundthedoorpost and galloped down one corridor then another, Harry in the lead,

without any idea where they were or where they were going— they rippedthroughatapestryandfoundthemselvesinahiddenpassageway,hurtledalongitandcameoutneartheirCharmsclassroom,whichtheyknewwasmilesfromthetrophyroom.

“I thinkwe’ve losthim,”Harrypanted, leaningagainst thecoldwallandwipinghisforehead.Nevillewasbentdouble,wheezingandspluttering.

I—told—you,”Hermionegasped,clutchingatthestitchinherchest,“I—told—you.”

“We’vegot to get back toGryffindor tower,” saidRon, “quickly aspossible.”

“Malfoytrickedyou,”HermionesaidtoHarry.“Yourealizethat,don’tyou?Hewasnevergoingtomeetyou—Filchknewsomeonewasgoingtobeinthetrophyroom,Malfoymusthavetippedhimoff.”

Harrythoughtshewasprobablyright,buthewasn’tgoingtotellherthat.

“Let’sgo.”Itwasn’tgoingtobethatsimple.Theyhadn’tgonemorethanadozen

paceswhenadoorknobrattledandsomethingcameshootingoutofaclassroominfrontofthem.

ItwasPeeves.Hecaughtsightofthemandgaveasquealofdelight.“Shutup,Peeves—please—you’llgetusthrownout.”Peevescackled. “Wanderingaroundatmidnight,IckleFirsties?Tut,tut,tut.Naughty,

naughty,you’llgetcaughty.”“Notifyoudon’tgiveusaway,Peeves,please.”“ShouldtellFilch,Ishould,”saidPeevesinasaintlyvoice,buthiseyes

glitteredwickedly.“It’sforyourowngood,youknow.”“Getoutoftheway,”snappedRon,takingaswipeatPeevesthiswasa

bigmistake. “STUDENTSOUTOFBED!”Peevesbellowed,“STUDENTSOUT

OFBEDDOWNTHECHARMSCORRIDOR!” DuckingunderPeeves,theyranfortheirlives,righttotheendofthe

corridorwheretheyslammedintoadoor—anditwaslocked.“Thisisit!”Ronmoaned,astheypushedhelplesslyatthedoor,“We’re

donefor!Thisistheend!” Theycouldhear footsteps,Filch runningas fastashecould toward

Peeves’sshouts.“Oh,moveover,”Hermionesnarled.ShegrabbedHarry’swand,tapped

thelock,andwhispered,“Alohomora!”

Thelockclickedandthedoorswungopen—theypiledthroughit,shutitquickly,andpressedtheirearsagainstit,listening.

“Whichwaydidtheygo,Peeves?”Filchwassaying.“Quick,tellme.”“Say‘please.’”“Don’tmesswithme,Peeves,nowwheredidtheygo?” “Shan’t say nothing if you don’t say please,” said Peeves in his

annoyingsingsongvoice.“Allright—please.” “NOTHING!Hahaaa!ToldyouIwouldn’tsaynothingifyoudidn’t

sayplease!Haha!Haaaaaa!”And theyheard the soundofPeeveswhooshingawayandFilchcursinginrage.

“Hethinksthisdoorislocked,”Harrywhispered.“Ithinkwe’llbeokay— get off, Neville!” For Neville had been tugging on the sleeve of Harry’sbathrobeforthelastminute.“What?”

Harryturnedaround—andsaw,quiteclearly,what.Foramoment,hewas sure he’d walked into a nightmare — this was too much, on top ofeverythingthathadhappenedsofar.

Theyweren’tinaroom,ashehadsupposed.Theywereinacorridor.The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they knew why it wasforbidden.

Theywerelookingstraightintotheeyesofamonstrousdog,adogthatfilledthewholespacebetweenceilingandfloor.Ithadthreeheads.Threepairsofrolling,madeyes;threenoses,twitchingandquiveringintheirdirection;threedroolingmouths,salivahanginginslipperyropesfromyellowishfangs.

Itwasstandingquitestill,allsixeyesstaringatthem,andHarryknewthattheonlyreasontheyweren’talreadydeadwasthattheirsuddenappearancehad taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was nomistakingwhatthosethunderousgrowlsmeant.

Harrygropedforthedoorknob—betweenFilchanddeath,he’dtakeFilch.

Theyfellbackward—Harryslammedthedoorshut,andtheyran,theyalmost flew, back down the corridor. Filchmust have hurried off to look forthem somewhere else, because they didn’t see him anywhere, but they hardlycared—alltheywantedtodowasputasmuchspaceaspossiblebetweenthemandthatmonster.Theydidn’tstoprunninguntiltheyreachedtheportraitoftheFatLadyontheseventhfloor.

“Where on earth have you all been?” she asked, looking at theirbathrobeshangingofftheirshouldersandtheirflushed,sweatyfaces.

“Never mind that— pig snout, pig snout,” panted Harry, and the

portraitswungforward.Theyscrambled into thecommonroomandcollapsed,trembling,intoarmchairs.

Itwasawhilebeforeanyofthemsaidanything.Neville,indeed,lookedasifhe’dneverspeakagain.

“Whatdotheythinkthey’redoing,keepingathinglikethatlockedupinaschool?”saidRonfinally.“Ifanydogneedsexercise,thatonedoes.”

Hermionehadgotbothherbreathandherbadtemperbackagain.“Youdon’tuseyoureyes,anyofyou,doyou?”shesnapped.“Didn’tyouseewhatitwasstandingon.

“Thefloor?”Harrysuggested.“Iwasn’t lookingat itsfeet,Iwastoobusywithitsheads.”

“No, not the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It’s obviouslyguardingsomething.”

Shestoodup,glaringatthem.“Ihopeyou’repleasedwithyourselves.Wecouldallhavebeenkilled

—orworse,expelled.Now,ifyoudon’tmind,I’mgoingtobed.”Ronstaredafterher,hismouthopen. “No,we don’tmind,” he said. “You’d thinkwe dragged her along,

wouldn’tyou. ButHermione had givenHarry something else to think about as he

climbed back into bed. The dog was guarding something…What had Hagridsaid?Gringottswas thesafestplace in theworld for somethingyouwanted tohide—exceptperhapsHogwarts.

ItlookedasthoughHarryhadfoundoutwherethegrubbylittlepackagefromvaultsevenhundredandthirteenwas.

HP1-HarryPotterandtheSorcerer'sStone

CHAPTERTEN

HALLOWEEN

Malfoy couldn’t believehis eyeswhenhe saw thatHarry andRonwerestillatHogwartsthenextday,lookingtiredbutperfectlycheerful.Indeed,bythenext morning Harry and Ron thought that meeting the three-headed dog hadbeenanexcellentadventure,and theywerequitekeen tohaveanotherone. Inthemeantime,HarryfilledRoninaboutthepackagethatseemedtohavebeenmovedfromGringottstoHogwarts,andtheyspentalotoftimewonderingwhatcouldpossiblyneedsuchheavyprotection.

“It’seitherreallyvaluableorreallydangerous,”saidRon.“Orboth,”saidHarry.Butasalltheyknewforsureaboutthemysteriousobjectwasthatitwas

about two inches long, theydidn’thavemuchchanceofguessingwhat itwaswithoutfurtherclues.

NeitherNevillenorHermioneshowedtheslightestinterestinwhatlayunderneath thedogand the trapdoor.AllNevillecaredaboutwasnevergoingnearthedogagain.

Hermionewasnowrefusing tospeak toHarryandRon,butshewassuch abossyknow-it-all that they saw this as an addedbonus.All they reallywantednowwasawayofgettingbackatMalfoy,andtotheirgreatdelight,justsuchathingarrivedinthemailaboutaweeklater.

AstheowlsfloodedintotheGreatHallasusual,everyone’sattentionwas caught at onceby a long, thinpackage carriedby six large screechowls.Harrywasjustasinterestedaseveryoneelsetoseewhatwasinthislargeparcel,andwasamazedwhentheowlssoareddownanddroppeditrightinfrontofhim,knockinghisbacontothefloor.Theyhadhardlyflutteredoutofthewaywhenanotherowldroppedaletterontopoftheparcel.

Harryrippedopentheletterfirst,whichwaslucky,becauseitsaid:

DONOTOPENTHEPARCELATTHETABLE. It containsyournewNimbusTwoThousand, but I don’twant

everybody knowing you’ve got a broomstick or they’ll all want one. OliverWoodwillmeetyoutonightontheQuidditchfieldatseveno’clockforyourfirsttrainingsession.

ProfessorMcGonagall

HarryhaddifficultyhidinghisgleeashehandedthenotetoRontoread.“ANimbusTwoThousand!”Ronmoanedenviously.“I’venevereven

touchedone.”Theyleftthehallquickly,wantingtounwrapthebroomstickinprivate

beforetheirfirstclass,buthalfwayacrosstheentrancehalltheyfoundthewayupstairsbarredbyCrabbeandGoyle.MalfoyseizedthepackagefromHarryandfeltit.

“That’sabroomstick,”hesaid,throwingitbacktoHarrywithamixtureofjealousyandspiteonhisface.“You’llbeinforitthistime,Potter,firstyearsaren’tallowedthem.”

Roncouldn’tresistit.“It’snotanyoldbroomstick,”hesaid,“it’saNimbusTwoThousand.

What did you say you’ve got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?” RongrinnedatHarry.“Cometslookflashy,butthey’renotinthesameleagueastheNimbus.”

“Whatwouldyouknowaboutit,Weasley,youcouldn’taffordhalfthehandle,”Malfoysnappedback.“Isupposeyouandyourbrothershavetosaveuptwigbytwig.”

Before Ron could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared atMalfoy’selbow.

“Notarguing,Ihope,boys?”hesqueaked.“Potter’sbeensentabroomstick,Professor,”saidMalfoyquickly. “Yes, yes, that’s right,” said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry.

“ProfessorMcGonagalltoldmeallaboutthespecialcircumstances,Potter.Andwhatmodelisit?”

“ANimbusTwoThousand,itis,”saidHarry,fightingnottolaughatthelookofhorroronMalfoy’sface.“Andit’sreallythankstoMalfoyherethatI’vegotit,”headded.

HarryandRonheadedupstairs,smotheringtheirlaughteratMalfoy’sobviousrageandconfusion.

“Well,it’strue,”Harrychortledastheyreachedthetopofthemarblestaircase,“Ifhehadn’tstolenNeville’sRemembrallIwouldn’tbeontheteam.…”

“SoIsupposeyouthinkthat’sarewardforbreakingrules?”cameanangry voice from just behind them. Hermione was stomping up the stairs,lookingdisapprovinglyatthepackageinHarry’shand.

“Ithoughtyouweren’tspeakingtous?”saidHarry.

“Yes,don’tstopnow,”saidRon,“it’sdoingussomuchgood.”Hermionemarchedawaywithhernoseintheair.Harryhadalotoftroublekeepinghismindonhislessonsthatday.It

keptwanderinguptothedormitorywherehisnewbroomstickwaslyingunderhisbed,orstrayingofftotheQuidditchfieldwherehe’dbelearningtoplaythatnight.He bolted his dinner that eveningwithout noticingwhat hewas eating,andthenrushedupstairswithRontounwraptheNimbusTwoThousandatlast.

“Wow,”Ronsighed,asthebroomstickrolledontoHarry’sbedspread.EvenHarry,whoknewnothingaboutthedifferentbrooms,thoughtit

lookedwonderful.Sleekandshiny,withamahoganyhandle,ithadalongtailofneat,straighttwigsandNimbusTwoThousandwritteningoldnearthetop.

Asseveno’clockdrewnearer,Harryleft thecastleandsetoff inthedusk toward the Quidditch field. Held never been inside the stadium before.Hundredsof seatswere raised in standsaround the field so that the spectatorswerehighenoughtoseewhatwasgoingon.Ateitherendofthefieldwerethreegoldenpoleswith hoopson the end.They remindedHarry of the little plasticsticksMugglechildrenblewbubbles through, except that theywere fifty feethigh.

TooeagertoflyagaintowaitforWood,Harrymountedhisbroomstickandkickedofffromtheground.Whatafeeling—heswoopedinandoutofthegoal posts and then sped up and down the field. TheNimbus Two Thousandturnedwhereverhewantedathislightesttouch.

“Hey,Potter,comedown!”OliverWoodhadarrived.Hewascarryingalargewoodencrateunder

hisarm.Harrylandednexttohim. “Very nice,” saidWood, his eyes glinting. “I seewhatMcGonagall

meant…you really are a natural. I’m just going to teach you the rules thisevening,thenyou’llbejoiningteampracticethreetimesaweek.”

Heopenedthecrate.Insidewerefourdifferent-sizedballs. “Right,” saidWood.“Now,Quidditch iseasyenough tounderstand,

evenifit’snottooeasytoplay.Therearesevenplayersoneachside.ThreeofthemarecalledChasers.”

“ThreeChasers,”Harryrepeated,asWood tookoutabright redballaboutthesizeofasoccerball.

“Thisball’scalled theQuaffle,”saidWood.“TheChasers throwtheQuaffletoeachotherandtryandgetitthroughoneofthehoopstoscoreagoal.TenpointseverytimetheQuafflegoesthroughoneofthehoops.Followme?”

“TheChasersthrowtheQuaffleandputitthroughthehoopstoscore,”Harry recited. “So — that’s sort of like basketball on broomsticks with six

hoops,isn’tit?”“What’sbasketball?”saidWoodcuriously.“Nevermind,”saidHarryquickly.“Now,there’sanotherplayeroneachsidewho’scalledtheKeeper—

I’mKeeper forGryffindor. I have to fly around our hoops and stop the otherteamfromscoring.”

“Three Chasers, one Keeper,” said Harry, who was determined toremember it all. “And theyplaywith theQuaffle.Okay,got that.Sowhataretheyfor?”Hepointedatthethreeballsleftinsidethebox.

“I’llshowyounow,”saidWood.“Takethis.”HehandedHarryasmallclub,abitlikeashortbaseballbat.“I’mgoingtoshowyouwhattheBludgersdo,”Woodsaid.“Thesetwo

aretheBludgers.”HeshowedHarrytwoidenticalballs,jetblackandslightlysmallerthan

the redQuaffle. Harry noticed that they seemed to be straining to escape thestrapsholdingtheminsidethebox.

“Standback,”WoodwarnedHarry.HebentdownandfreedoneoftheBludgers.

Atonce,theblackballrosehighintheairandthenpeltedstraightatHarry’s face.Harry swungat itwith thebat to stop it frombreakinghisnose,andsentitzigzaggingawayintotheair—itzoomedaroundtheirheadsandthenshotatWood,whodivedontopofitandmanagedtopinittotheground.

“See?”Woodpanted,forcingthestrugglingBludgerbackintothecrateand strapping it down safely. “The Bludgers rocket around, trying to knockplayersofftheirbrooms.That’swhyyouhavetwoBeatersoneachteam—theWeasleytwinsareours—it’s their jobtoprotect theirsidefromtheBludgersandtryandknockthemtowardtheotherteam.So—thinkyou’vegotallthat?”

“ThreeChaserstryandscorewiththeQuaffle;theKeeperguardsthegoalposts; theBeaterskeep theBludgersawayfromtheir team,”Harryreeledoff.

“Verygood,”saidWood.“Er—havetheBludgerseverkilledanyone?”Harryasked,hopinghe

soundedoffhand. “NeveratHogwarts.We’vehadacoupleofbrokenjawsbutnothing

worse than that.Now, the lastmember of the team is the Seeker. That’s you.Andyoudon’thavetoworryabouttheQuaffleortheBludgers—”

“—unlesstheycrackmyheadopen.”“Don’tworry,theWeasleysaremorethanamatchfortheBludgers—I

mean,they’relikeapairofhumanBludgersthemselves.”

Wood reached into the crate and took out the fourth and last ball.Comparedwith theQuaffle and theBludgers, itwas tiny, about the size of alargewalnut.Itwasbrightgoldandhadlittleflutteringsilverwings.

“This,”saidWood,“istheGoldenSnitch,andit’sthemostimportantballofthelot.It’sveryhardtocatchbecauseit’ssofastanddifficulttosee.It’sthe Seeker’s job to catch it. You’ve got to weave in and out of the Chasers,Beaters,Bludgers,andQuaffletogetitbeforetheotherteam’sSeeker,becausewhicheverSeeker catches theSnitchwinshis teaman extra hundred and fiftypoints, so theynearly alwayswin.That’swhySeekers get fouled somuch.AgameofQuidditchonlyendswhentheSnitchiscaught,soitcangoonforages—Ithinktherecordisthreemonths,theyhadtokeepbringingonsubstitutessotheplayerscouldgetsomesleep.

“Well,that’sitanyquestions?”Harryshookhishead.Heunderstoodwhathehadtodoallright,itwas

doingitthatwasgoingtobetheproblem.“Wewon’tpracticewiththeSnitchyet,”saidWood,carefullyshutting

itbackinsidethecrate,“it’stoodark,wemightloseit.Let’stryyououtwithafewofthese.”

He pulled a bag of ordinary golf balls out of his pocket and a fewminuteslater,heandHarrywereupintheair,WoodthrowingthegolfballsashardashecouldineverydirectionforHarrytocatch.

Harrydidn’tmissasingleone,andWoodwasdelighted.Afterhalfanhour,nighthadreallyfallenandtheycouldn’tcarryon.

“ThatQuidditchCup’ll have our name on it this year,” saidWoodhappilyastheytrudgedbackuptothecastle.“Iwouldn’tbesurprisedifyouturnout better than CharlieWeasley, and he could have played for England if hehadn’tgoneoffchasingdragons.”

Perhapsitwasbecausehewasnowsobusy,whatwithQuidditchpracticethree evenings a week on top of all his homework, but Harry could hardlybelieveitwhenherealizedthathe’dalreadybeenatHogwartstwomonths.Thecastle feltmore like home than Privet Drive ever had. His lessons, too, werebecomingmoreandmoreinterestingnowthattheyhadmasteredthebasics.

OnHalloweenmorning theywoke to the delicious smell of bakingpumpkin wafting through the corridors. Even better, Professor Flitwickannounced inCharms that he thought theywere ready to startmaking objectsfly, something they had all been dying to try since they’d seen him makeNeville’stoadzoomaroundtheclassroom.ProfessorFlitwickputtheclassintopairs to practice. Harry’s partner was Seamus Finnigan (which was a relief,

because Neville had been trying to catch his eye). Ron, however, was to beworkingwithHermioneGranger. Itwashard to tellwhetherRonorHermionewasangrieraboutthis.Shehadn’tspokentoeitherofthemsincethedayHarry’sbroomstickhadarrived.

“Now,don’tforgetthatnicewristmovementwe’vebeenpracticing!”squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual.“Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic wordsproperly is very important, too—never forgetWizardBaruffio,who said ‘s’insteadof‘f’andfoundhimselfonthefloorwithabuffaloonhischest.”

Itwasverydifficult.HarryandSeamusswishedandflicked,but thefeather they were supposed to be sending skyward just lay on the desktop.Seamusgot so impatient thatheprodded itwithhiswandandset fire to it—Harryhadtoputitoutwithhishat.

Ron,atthenexttable,wasn’thavingmuchmoreluck. “Wingardium Leviosa!” he shouted, waving his long arms like a

windmill.“You’resayingitwrong,”HarryheardHermionesnap.“It’sWing-gar-

diumLevi-o-sa,makethe‘gar’niceandlong.”“Youdoit,then,ifyou’resoclever,”Ronsnarled.Hermionerolledupthesleevesofhergown,flickedherwand,andsaid,

“WingardiumLeviosa!”Theirfeatherroseoffthedeskandhoveredaboutfourfeetabovetheir

heads. “Oh,well done!” cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. “Everyone see

here,MissGranger’sdoneit!”Ronwasinaverybadmoodbytheendoftheclass.“It’snowondernoonecanstandher,”hesaidtoHarryastheypushed

theirwayintothecrowdedcorridor,“she’sanightmare,honestly.” Someone knocked into Harry as they hurried past him. It was

Hermione.Harrycaughtaglimpseofherface—andwasstartledtoseethatshewasintears.

“Ithinksheheardyou.” “So?” said Ron, but he looked a bit uncomfortable. “She must’ve

noticedshe’sgotnofriends.” Hermione didn’t turn up for the next class and wasn’t seen all

afternoon.OntheirwaydowntotheGreatHallfortheHalloweenfeast,HarryandRonoverheardParvatiPatiltellingherfriendLavenderthatHermionewascryinginthegirls’bathroomandwantedtobeleftalone.Ronlookedstillmoreawkwardatthis,butamomentlatertheyhadenteredtheGreatHall,wherethe

HalloweendecorationsputHermioneoutoftheirminds. A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a

thousandmoreswoopedoverthetablesinlowblackclouds,makingthecandlesinthepumpkinsstutter.Thefeastappearedsuddenlyonthegoldenplates,asithadatthestart-of-termbanquet.

Harry was just helping himself to a baked potato when ProfessorQuirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face.Everyone stared as he reachedProfessorDumbledore’s chair, slumped againstthetable,andgasped,“Troll—inthedungeons—thoughtyououghttoknow.”

Hethensanktothefloorinadeadfaint.Therewasanuproar.Ittookseveralpurplefirecrackersexplodingfrom

theendofProfessorDumbledore’swandtobringsilence. “Prefects,” he rumbled, “lead your Houses back to the dormitories

immediately!”Percywasinhiselement.“Followme!Sticktogether,firstyears!Noneedtofearthetrollifyou

followmy orders! Stay close behindme, now.Makeway, first years comingthrough!Excuseme,I’maprefect!”

“Howcouldatrollgetin?”Harryaskedastheyclimbedthestairs.“Don’taskme,they’resupposedtobereallystupid,”saidRon.“Maybe

PeevesletitinforaHalloweenjoke.”Theypasseddifferentgroupsofpeoplehurryingindifferentdirections.

As they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs, HarrysuddenlygrabbedRon’sarm.

“I’vejustthought—Hermione.”“Whatabouther?”“Shedoesn’tknowaboutthetroll.”Ronbithislip.“Oh,allright,”hesnapped.“ButPercy’dbetternotseeus.”Duckingdown,theyjoinedtheHufflepuffsgoingtheotherway,slipped

downadesertedsidecorridor,andhurriedofftowardthegirls’bathroom.Theyhadjustturnedthecornerwhentheyheardquickfootstepsbehindthem.

“Percy!”hissedRon,pullingHarrybehindalargestonegriffin.Peeringaroundit,however,theysawnotPercybutSnape.Hecrossed

thecorridoranddisappearedfromview. “What’s he doing?” Harry whispered. “Why isn’t he down in the

dungeonswiththerestoftheteachers?”“Searchme.” Quietly as possible, they crept along thenext corridor afterSnape’s

fadingfootsteps.“He’sheadingforthethirdfloor,”Harrysaid,butRonhelduphishand.“Canyousmellsomething?” Harrysniffedandafoulstenchreachedhisnostrils,amixtureofold

socksandthekindofpublictoiletnooneseemstoclean.Andthentheyheardit—alowgrunting,andtheshufflingfootfallsof

giganticfeet.Ronpointed—attheendofapassagetotheleft,somethinghugewas moving toward them. They shrank into the shadows and watched as itemergedintoapatchofmoonlight.

Itwasahorriblesight.Twelvefeettall,itsskinwasadull,granitegray,itsgreatlumpybodylikeaboulderwithitssmallbaldheadperchedontoplikeacoconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunkswith flat, horny feet. The smellcoming from it was incredible. It was holding a huge wooden club, whichdraggedalongthefloorbecauseitsarmsweresolong.

Thetrollstoppednexttoadoorwayandpeeredinside.Itwaggleditslongears,makingupitstinymind,thenslouchedslowlyintotheroom.

“Thekeysinthelock,”Harrymuttered.“Wecouldlockitin.”“Goodidea,”saidRonnervously.Theyedgedtowardtheopendoor,mouthsdry,prayingthetrollwasn’t

about to comeout of it.With onegreat leap,Harrymanaged to grab the key,slamthedoor,andlockit.

“Yes!”Flushedwiththeirvictory,theystartedtorunbackupthepassage,but

astheyreachedthecornertheyheardsomethingthatmadetheirheartsstop—ahigh, petrified scream — and it was coming from the chamber they’d justchainedup.

“Oh,no,”saidRon,paleastheBloodyBaron.“It’sthegirls’bathroom!”Harrygasped.“Hermione!”theysaidtogether.Itwasthelastthingtheywantedtodo,butwhatchoicedidtheyhave?

Wheelingaround,theysprintedbacktothedoorandturnedthekey,fumblingintheirpanic.Harrypulledthedooropenandtheyraninside.

HermioneGrangerwasshrinkingagainstthewallopposite,lookingasifshewasabouttofaint.Thetrollwasadvancingonher,knockingthesinksoffthewallsasitwent.

“Confuseit!”HarrysaiddesperatelytoRon,and,seizingatap,hethrewitashardashecouldagainstthewall.

The troll stopped a few feet from Hermione. It lumbered around,blinkingstupidly,toseewhathadmadethenoise.ItsmeanlittleeyessawHarry.

Ithesitated,thenmadeforhiminstead,liftingitsclubasitwent.“Oy,pea-brain!”yelledRonfromtheothersideofthechamber,andhe

threwametalpipeatit.Thetrolldidn’tevenseemtonoticethepipehittingitsshoulder, but it heard theyell andpausedagain, turning itsugly snout towardRoninstead,givingHarrytimetorunaroundit.

“Come on, run, run!” Harry yelled at Hermione, trying to pull hertoward thedoor,butshecouldn’tmove,shewasstill flatagainst thewall,hermouthopenwithterror.

Theshoutingandtheechoesseemedtobedrivingthetrollberserk.ItroaredagainandstartedtowardRon,whowasnearestandhadnowaytoescape.

Harrythendidsomethingthatwasbothverybraveandverystupid:Hetookagreatrunningjumpandmanagedtofastenhisarmsaroundthetroll’sneckfrombehind.The troll couldn’t feelHarry hanging there, but even a trollwillnotice if you stick a longbit ofwoodup its nose, andHarry’swandhad stillbeeninhishandwhenhe’djumped–ithadgonestraightuponeof thetroll’snostrils.

Howlingwith pain, the troll twisted and flailed its club,withHarryclingingonfordearlife;anysecond,thetrollwasgoingtoriphimofforcatchhimaterribleblowwiththeclub.

Hermionehadsunktothefloorinfright;Ronpulledouthisownwand—notknowingwhathewasgoingtodoheheardhimselfcrythefirstspellthatcameintohishead:“WingardiumLeviosa!”

Theclubflewsuddenlyoutofthetroll’shand,rosehigh,highupintothe air, turned slowly over— and dropped, with a sickening crack, onto itsowner’shead.Thetrollswayedonthespotandthenfellflatonitsface,withathudthatmadethewholeroomtremble.

Harry got to his feet. Hewas shaking and out of breath. Ronwasstandingtherewithhiswandstillraised,staringatwhathehaddone.

ItwasHermionewhospokefirst.“Isit—dead?”“Idon’tthinkso,”saidHarry,Ithinkit’sjustbeenknockedout.” He bent down and pulled his wand out of the troll’s nose. It was

coveredinwhatlookedlikelumpygrayglue.“Urgh—trollboogers.”Hewipeditonthetroll’strousers.Asuddenslammingandloudfootstepsmadethethreeofthemlookup.

They hadn’t realized what a racket they had been making, but of course,someonedownstairsmusthaveheardthecrashesandthetroll’sroars.Amomentlater,ProfessorMcGonagallhadcomeburstingintotheroom,closelyfollowed

bySnape,withQuirrellbringinguptherear.Quirrelltookonelookatthetroll,letoutafaintwhimper,andsatquicklydownonatoilet,clutchinghisheart.

Snapebentover the troll.ProfessorMcGonagallwas lookingatRonandHarry.Harryhadneverseenherlooksoangry.Herlipswerewhite.HopesofwinningfiftypointsforGryffindorfadedquicklyfromHarry’smind.

“What on earthwere you thinking of?” saidProfessorMcGonagall,withcoldfuryinhervoice.HarrylookedatRon,whowasstillstandingwithhiswand in the air. “You’re lucky you weren’t killed. Why aren’t you in yourdormitory?”

SnapegaveHarryaswift,piercinglook.Harrylookedatthefloor.HewishedRonwouldputhiswanddown.

Thenasmallvoicecameoutoftheshadows.“Please,ProfessorMcGonagall—theywerelookingforme.”“MissGranger!”Hermionehadmanagedtogettoherfeetatlast.“IwentlookingforthetrollbecauseI—IthoughtIcoulddealwithit

onmyown—youknow,becauseI’vereadallaboutthem.”Rondroppedhiswand.HermioneGranger,tellingadownrightlietoa

teacher?“Iftheyhadn’tfoundme,I’dbedeadnow.Harrystuckhiswandupits

noseandRonknockeditoutwithitsownclub.Theydidn’thavetimetocomeandfetchanyone.Itwasabouttofinishmeoffwhentheyarrived.”

HarryandRontriedtolookasthoughthisstorywasn’tnewtothem.“Well—inthatcase...”saidProfessorMcGonagall,staringatthethree

of them, “Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling amountaintrollonyourown?”

Hermionehungherhead.Harrywasspeechless.Hermionewasthelastpersontodoanythingagainsttherules,andhereshewas,pretendingshehad,togetthemoutoftrouble.ItwasasifSnapehadstartedhandingoutsweets.

“MissGranger,fivepointswillbetakenfromGryffindorforthis,”saidProfessorMcGonagall.“I’mverydisappointedinyou.Ifyou’renothurtatall,you’dbettergetofftoGryffindortower.Studentsarefinishingthefeastintheirhouses.”

Hermioneleft.ProfessorMcGonagallturnedtoHarryandRon.“Well,Istillsayyouwerelucky,butnotmanyfirstyearscouldhave

taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points.ProfessorDumbledorewillbeinformedofthis.Youmaygo.”

Theyhurriedoutofthechamberanddidn’tspeakatalluntiltheyhad

climbedtwofloorsup.Itwasarelieftobeawayfromthesmellofthetroll,quiteapartfromanythingelse.

“Weshouldhavegottenmorethantenpoints,”Rongrumbled.“Five,youmean,onceshe’stakenoffHermione’s.”“Goodofhertogetusoutoftroublelikethat,”Ronadmitted.“Mind

you,wedidsaveher.”“Shemightnothaveneededsavingifwehadn’tlockedthethinginwith

her,”Harryremindedhim.TheyhadreachedtheportraitoftheFatLady.“Pigsnout,”theysaidandentered. The common roomwaspacked andnoisy.Everyonewas eating the

foodthathadbeensentup.Hermione,however,stoodalonebythedoor,waitingfor them.Therewasaveryembarrassedpause.Then,noneof themlookingateachother,theyallsaid“Thanks,”andhurriedofftogetplates.

But from that moment on, Hermione Granger became their friend.Therearesomethingsyoucan’tsharewithoutendinguplikingeachother,andknockingoutatwelve-footmountaintrollisoneofthem.

HP1-HarryPotterandtheSorcerer'sStone

CHAPTERELEVEN

QUIDDITCH

As theyenteredNovember, theweather turnedverycold.Themountainsaroundtheschoolbecameicygrayandthelakelikechilledsteel.Everymorningthegroundwascoveredinfrost.Hagridcouldbeseenfromtheupstairswindowsdefrosting broomsticks on theQuidditch field, bundled up in a longmoleskinovercoat,rabbitfurgloves,andenormousbeaverskinboots.

TheQuidditchseasonhadbegun.OnSaturday,Harrywouldbeplayingin his first match after weeks of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. IfGryffindor won, they would move up into second place in the housechampionship.

HardlyanyonehadseenHarryplaybecauseWoodhaddecidedthat,astheirsecretweapon,Harryshouldbekept,well,secret.Butthenewsthathewasplaying Seeker had leaked out somehow, and Harry didn’t know which wasworse— people telling him he’d be brilliant or people telling him they’d berunningaroundunderneathhimholdingamattress.

ItwasreallyluckythatHarrynowhadHermioneasafriend.Hedidn’tknowhowhe’dhavegottenthroughallhishomeworkwithouther,whatwithallthelast-minuteQuidditchpracticeWoodwasmakingthemdo.ShehadalsolenthimQuidditchThroughtheAges,whichturnedouttobeaveryinterestingread.

Harry learned that therewere seven hundredways of committing aQuidditchfoulandthatallofthemhadhappenedduringaWorldCupmatchin1473; thatSeekerswereusually thesmallestand fastestplayers,and thatmostserious Quidditch accidents seemed to happen to them; that although peoplerarelydiedplayingQuidditch, referees hadbeenknown tovanish and turnupmonthslaterintheSaharaDesert.

Hermionehadbecomeabitmore relaxedaboutbreaking rulessinceHarryandRonhadsavedherfromthemountaintroll,andshewasmuchnicerforit.ThedaybeforeHarry’sfirstQuidditchmatchthethreeofthemwereoutinthefreezingcourtyardduringbreak,andshehadconjuredthemupabrightbluefire that could be carried around in a jam jar. They were standing with theirbacks to it,gettingwarm,whenSnapecrossed theyard.Harrynoticedatoncethat Snapewas limping. Harry, Ron, andHermionemoved closer together toblockthefirefromview;theyweresureitwouldn’tbeallowed.Unfortunately,something about their guilty faces caught Snape’s eye. He limped over. He

hadn’t seen the fire,buthe seemed tobe looking for a reason to tell themoffanyway.

“What’sthatyou’vegotthere,Potter?”ItwasQuidditchThroughtheAges.Harryshowedhim. “Library books are not to be taken outside the school,” said Snape.

“Giveittome.FivepointsfromGryffindor.”“He’sjustmadethatruleup,”HarrymutteredangrilyasSnapelimped

away.“Wonderwhat’swrongwithhisleg?”“Dunno,butIhopeit’sreallyhurtinghim,”saidRonbitterly.

TheGryffindor common roomwas very noisy that evening. Harry, Ron,andHermionesattogethernexttoawindow.HermionewascheckingHarryandRon’sCharmshomeworkforthem.Shewouldneverletthemcopy(“Howwillyou learn?”), but by asking her to read it through, they got the right answersanyway.

Harryfeltrestless.HewantedQuidditchThroughtheAgesback,totakehismind off his nerves about tomorrow.Why should he be afraid of Snape?Gettingup,he toldRonandHermionehewasgoing to askSnape ifhe couldhaveit.

“Betteryou thanme,” theysaid together,butHarryhadan idea thatSnapewouldn’trefuseiftherewereotherteacherslistening.

Hemadehiswaydownto thestaffroomandknocked.Therewasnoanswer.Heknockedagain.Nothing.

PerhapsSnapehadleftthebookinthere?Itwasworthatry.Hepushedthedoorajarandpeeredinside–andahorriblescenemethiseyes.

SnapeandFilchwereinside,alone.Snapewasholdinghisrobesabovehisknees.Oneofhis legswasbloodyandmangled.FilchwashandingSnapebandages.

“Blasted thing,”Snapewas saying. “Howareyou supposed tokeepyoureyesonallthreeheadsatonce?”

Harrytriedtoshutthedoorquietly,but—“POTTER!”Snape’sfacewastwistedwithfuryashedroppedhisrobesquicklyto

hidehisleg.Harrygulped.“IjustwonderedifIcouldhavemybookback.”“GETOUT!OUT!”Harryleft,beforeSnapecouldtakeanymorepointsfromGryffindor.

Hesprintedbackupstairs.“Didyougetit?”RonaskedasHarryjoinedthem.“What’sthematter?”

Inalowwhisper,Harrytoldthemwhathe’dseen.“Youknowwhatthismeans?”hefinishedbreathlessly.“Hetriedtoget

past that three-headeddogatHalloween!That’swherehewasgoingwhenwesawhim—he’safterwhateverit’sguarding!AndI’dbetmybroomstickheletthattrollin,tomakeadiversion!”

Hermione’seyeswerewide. “No— he wouldn’t, she said. “I know he’s not very nice, but he

wouldn’ttryandstealsomethingDumbledorewaskeepingsafe.” “Honestly,Hermione,youthinkallteachersaresaintsorsomething,”

snappedRon.“I’mwithHarry.Iwouldn’tputanythingpastSnape.Butwhat’sheafter?What’sthatdogguarding?”

Harry went to bed with his head buzzing with the same question.Nevillewassnoringloudly,butHarrycouldn’tsleep.Hetriedtoemptyhismind—heneededtosleep,hehadto,hehadhisfirstQuidditchmatchinafewhours–buttheexpressiononSnape’sfacewhenHarryhadseenhislegwasn’teasytoforget.

Thenextmorningdawnedverybrightandcold.TheGreatHallwasfullofthedelicioussmelloffriedsausagesandthecheerfulchatterofeveryonelookingforwardtoagoodQuidditchmatch.

“You’vegottoeatsomebreakfast.”“Idon’twantanything.”“Justabitoftoast,”wheedledHermione.“I’mnothungry.”Harryfeltterrible.Inanhour’stimehe’dbewalkingontothefield. “Harry,youneedyourstrength,”saidSeamusFinnigan.“Seekersare

alwaystheoneswhogetclobberedbytheotherteam.” “Thanks,Seamus,”saidHarry,watchingSeamuspileketchuponhis

sausages.

Byeleveno’clockthewholeschoolseemedtobeoutinthestandsaroundtheQuidditch pitch.Many students had binoculars. The seatsmight be raisedhighintheair,butitwasstilldifficulttoseewhatwasgoingonsometimes.

RonandHermionejoinedNeville,Seamus,andDeantheWestHamfanup in the top row.Asasurprise forHarry, theyhadpainteda largebanneronone of the sheets Scabbers had ruined. It said Potter for President, andDean,whowasgood at drawing, haddone a largeGryffindor lionunderneath.ThenHermionehadperformedatrickylittlecharmsothatthepaintflasheddifferentcolors.

Meanwhile, in the locker room,Harryand the restof the teamwerechanging into their scarlet Quidditch robes (Slytherin would be playing ingreen).

Woodclearedhisthroatforsilence.“Okay,men,”hesaid.“Andwomen,”saidChaserAngelinaJohnson.“Andwomen,”Woodagreed.“Thisisit.”“Thebigone,”saidFredWeasley.“Theonewe’veallbeenwaitingfor,”saidGeorge.“WeknowOliver’sspeechbyheart,”FredtoldHarry,“wewereonthe

teamlastyear.”“Shutup,youtwo,”saidWood.“ThisisthebestteamGryffindor’shad

inyears.We’regoingtowin.Iknowit.”Heglaredatthemallasiftosay,“Orelse.”“Right.It’stime.Goodluck,allofyou.”HarryfollowedFredandGeorgeoutofthelockerroomand,hopinghis

kneesweren’tgoingtogiveway,walkedontothefieldtoloudcheers. MadamHoochwas refereeing. She stood in themiddle of the field

waitingforthetwoteams,herbroominherhand.“Now,Iwantanicefairgame,allofyou,”shesaid,oncetheywereall

gatheredaroundher.HarrynoticedthatsheseemedtobespeakingparticularlytotheSlytherinCaptain,MarcusFlint,asixthyear.HarrythoughtFlintlookedas if he had some troll blood in him.Out of the corner of his eye he saw theflutteringbannerhighabove, flashingPotter forPresidentover thecrowd.Hisheartskipped.Hefeltbraver.

“Mountyourbrooms,please.”HarryclamberedontohisNimbusTwoThousand.MadamHoochgavealoudblastonhersilverwhistle.Fifteenbroomsroseup,high,highintotheair.Theywereoff. “And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of

Gryffindor—whatanexcellentChaserthatgirlis,andratherattractive,too—”“JORDAN!”“Sorry,Professor.”TheWeasleytwins’friend,LeeJordan,wasdoingthecommentaryfor

thematch,closelywatchedbyProfessorMcGonagall.“Andshe’sreallybeltingalongupthere,aneatpasstoAliciaSpinnet,a

goodfindofOliverWood’s,lastyearonlyareserve—backtoJohnsonand—no,theSlytherinshavetakentheQuaffle,SlytherinCaptainMarcusFlintgainstheQuaffleandoffhegoes—Flintflyinglikeaneagleupthere—he’sgoingto

sc— no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor KeeperWood and theGryffindors take the Quaffle— that’s Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there,nicedivearoundFlint,offupthefieldand—OUCH—thatmusthavehurt,hitinthebackoftheheadbyaBludger—QuaffletakenbytheSlytherins—that’sAdrianPuceyspeedingofftowardthegoalposts,buthe’sblockedbyasecondBludger—senthiswaybyFredorGeorgeWeasley, can’t tellwhich—niceplayby theGryffindorBeater,anyway,andJohnsonback inpossessionof theQuaffle,aclearfieldaheadandoffshegoes—she’sreallyflying—dodgesaspeedingBludger— the goal posts are ahead— come on, now,Angelina—KeeperBletchleydives—misses—GRYFFINDORSSCORE!”

Gryffindorcheersfilled thecoldair,withhowlsandmoansfromtheSlytherins.

“Budgeupthere,movealong.”“Hagrid!”RonandHermionesqueezedtogethertogiveHagridenoughspaceto

jointhem. “Bin watchin’ from me hut,” said Hagrid, patting a large pair of

binocularsaroundhisneck,“Butitisn’tthesameasbein’inthecrowd.NosignoftheSnitchyet,eh?”

“Nope,”saidRon.“Harryhasn’thadmuchtodoyet.”“Keptouttatrouble,though,that’ssomethin’,”saidHagrid,raisinghis

binocularsandpeeringskywardatthespeckthatwasHarry.Wayupabovethem,Harrywasglidingoverthegame,squintingabout

forsomesignoftheSnitch.ThiswaspartofhisandWood’sgameplan. “KeepoutofthewayuntilyoucatchsightoftheSnitch,”Woodhad

said.“Wedon’twantyouattackedbeforeyouhavetobe.”WhenAngelinahadscored,Harryhaddoneacoupleofloop-the-loops

toletoffhisfeelings.NowhewasbacktostaringaroundfortheSnitch.Oncehecaught sight of a flash of gold, but it was just a reflection from one of theWeasleys’wristwatches,andonceaBludgerdecided tocomepeltinghisway,more like a cannonball than anything, butHarry dodged it and FredWeasleycamechasingafterit.

“All right there,Harry?”hehad time toyell, ashebeat theBludgerfuriouslytowardMarcusFlint.

“Slytherininpossession,”LeeJordanwassaying,“ChaserPuceyduckstwoBludgers,twoWeasleys,andChaserBell,andspeedstowardthe—waitamoment—wasthattheSnitch?”

AmurmurranthroughthecrowdasAdrianPuceydroppedtheQuaffle,toobusy lookingoverhisshoulderat theflashofgold thathadpassedhis left

ear.Harrysawit.Inagreatrushofexcitementhediveddownwardafterthe

streakofgold.SlytherinSeekerTerenceHiggshadseenit,too.NeckandnecktheyhurtledtowardtheSnitch—alltheChasersseemedtohaveforgottenwhattheyweresupposedtobedoingastheyhunginmidairtowatch.

HarrywasfasterthanHiggs—hecouldseethelittleroundball,wingsfluttering,dartingupahead—heputonanextraspurtofspeed—

WHAM!AroarofrageechoedfromtheGryffindorsbelow—MarcusFlinthadblockedHarryonpurpose,andHarry’sbroomspunoffcourse,Harryholdingonfordearlife.

“Foul!”screamedtheGryffindors.MadamHoochspokeangrilytoFlintandthenorderedafreeshotatthe

goalpostsforGryffindor.Butinalltheconfusion,ofcourse,theGoldenSnitchhaddisappearedfromsightagain.

Downinthestands,DeanThomaswasyelling,“Sendhimoff,ref!Redcard!”

“Whatareyoutalkingabout,Dean?”saidRon.“Redcard!”saidDeanfuriously.“Insocceryougetshowntheredcard

andyou’reoutofthegame!”“Butthisisn’tsoccer,Dean,”Ronremindedhim.Hagrid,however,wasonDean’sside. “Theyoughtachangetherules.FlintcouldaknockedHarryoutta the

air.”LeeJordanwasfindingitdifficultnottotakesides.“So—afterthatobviousanddisgustingbitofcheating—”“Jordan!”growledProfessorMcGonagall.“Imean,afterthatopenandrevoltingfoul…”“Jordan,I’mwarningyou—” “All right, all right. Flint nearly kills theGryffindor Seeker,which

couldhappentoanyone,I’msure,soapenaltytoGryffindor,takenbySpinner,who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still inpossession.”

It was as Harry dodged another Bludger, which went spinningdangerously past his head, that it happened. His broom gave a sudden,frighteninglurch.Forasplitsecond,hethoughthewasgoingtofall.Hegrippedthebroomtightlywithbothhishandsandknees.He’dneverfeltanythinglikethat.

Ithappenedagain.Itwasasthoughthebroomwastryingtobuckhimoff.ButNimbusTwoThousandsdidnotsuddenlydecidetobucktheirridersoff.

HarrytriedtoturnbacktowardtheGryffindorgoal-posts—hehadhalfamindto ask Wood to call time-out — and then he realized that his broom wascompletelyoutofhiscontrol.Hecouldn’tturnit.Hecouldn’tdirectitatall.Itwaszigzaggingthroughtheair,andeverynowandthenmakingviolentswishingmovementsthatalmostunseatedhim.

Leewasstillcommentating.“Slytherininpossession—FlintwiththeQuaffle—passesSpinnet—

passesBell—hithardinthefacebyaBludger,hopeitbrokehisnose—onlyjoking,Professor—Slytherinsscore—Ano…”

The Slytherinswere cheering.No one seemed to have noticed thatHarry’sbroomwasbehavingstrangely.Itwascarryinghimslowlyhigher,awayfromthegame,jerkingandtwitchingasitwent.

“DunnowhatHarry thinkshe’s doing,”Hagridmumbled.He staredthroughhisbinoculars.“If Ididn’knowbetter, I’dsayhe’d lostcontrolofhisbroom…buthecan’thave.…”

Suddenly, peoplewerepointingup atHarry all over the stands.Hisbroomhadstartedtorolloverandover,withhimonlyjustmanagingtoholdon.Thenthewholecrowdgasped.Harry’sbroomhadgivenawildjerkandHarryswungoffit.Hewasnowdanglingfromit,holdingonwithonlyonehand.

“Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?” Seamuswhispered.

“Can’thave,”Hagridsaid,hisvoiceshaking.“Can’tnothinginterferewith a broomstick except powerful Dark magic— no kid could do that to aNimbusTwoThousand.”

At thesewords,HermioneseizedHagrid’sbinoculars,but insteadoflookingupatHarry,shestartedlookingfranticallyatthecrowd.

“Whatareyoudoing?”moanedRon,gray-faced.“Iknewit,”Hermionegasped,“Snape—look.” Ron grabbed the binoculars. Snapewas in themiddle of the stands

oppositethem.HehadhiseyesfixedonHarryandwasmutteringnonstopunderhisbreath.

“He’sdoingsomething—jinxingthebroom,”saidHermione.“Whatshouldwedo?”“Leaveittome.” BeforeRoncouldsayanotherword,Hermionehaddisappeared.Ron

turned the binoculars backonHarry.His broomwasvibrating so hard, itwasalmostimpossibleforhimtohangonmuchlonger.Thewholecrowdwasonitsfeet,watching, terrified, as theWeasleys flew up to try and pullHarry safelyontooneoftheirbrooms,butitwasnogood–everytimetheygotnearhim,the

broomwould jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him,obviously hoping to catch him if he fell.Marcus Flint seized theQuaffle andscoredfivetimeswithoutanyonenoticing.

“Comeon,Hermione,”Ronmuttereddesperately. HermionehadfoughtherwayacrosstothestandwhereSnapestood,

andwasnowracingalongtherowbehindhim;shedidn’tevenstoptosaysorryas she knocked Professor Quirrell headfirst into the row in front. ReachingSnape, she crouched down, pulled out her wand, and whispered a few, well-chosenwords.BrightblueflamesshotfromherwandontothehemofSnape’srobes.

IttookperhapsthirtysecondsforSnapetorealizethathewasonfire.Asuddenyelptoldhershehaddoneherjob.Scoopingthefireoffhimintoalittlejarinherpocket,shescrambledbackalongtherow—Snapewouldneverknowwhathadhappened.

Itwasenough.Upintheair,Harrywassuddenlyabletoclamberbackontohisbroom.

“Neville, you can look!” Ron said. Neville had been sobbing intoHagrid’sjacketforthelastfiveminutes.

Harrywasspeedingtowardthegroundwhenthecrowdsawhimclaphishandtohismouthasthoughhewasabouttobesick—hehitthefieldonallfours—coughed—andsomethinggoldfellintohishand.

“I’vegot theSnitch!”heshouted,waving it abovehishead,and thegameendedincompleteconfusion.

“Hedidn’t catch it, he nearly swallowed it,”Flintwas still howlingtwentyminuteslater,butitmadenodifference—Harryhadn’tbrokenanyrulesandLeeJordanwasstillhappilyshoutingtheresults—Gryffindorhadwonbyonehundredandseventypoints to sixty.Harryheardnoneof this, though.Hewas being made a cup of strong tea back in Hagrid’s hut, with Ron andHermione.

“ItwasSnape,”Ronwasexplaining,“HermioneandIsawhim.Hewascursingyourbroomstick,muttering,hewouldn’ttakehiseyesoffyou.”

“Rubbish,”saidHagrid,whohadn’theardawordofwhathadgoneonnexttohiminthestands.“WhywouldSnapedosomethin’likethat?”

Harry,Ron,andHermionelookedatoneanother,wonderingwhattotellhim.Harrydecidedonthetruth.

“Ifoundoutsomethingabouthim,”hetoldHagrid.“Hetriedtogetpastthatthree-headeddogonHalloween.Itbithim.Wethinkhewastryingtostealwhateverit’sguarding.”

Hagriddroppedtheteapot.

“HowdoyouknowaboutFluffy?”hesaid.“Fluffy?”“Yeah—he’smine—boughthimoffaGreekchappieImetinthepub

las’year—IlenthimtoDumbledoretoguardthe—”“Yes?”saidHarryeagerly.“Now,don’taskmeanymore,”saidHagridgruffly.“That’stopsecret,

thatis.”“ButSnape’stryingtostealit.” “Rubbish,”saidHagridagain.“Snape’saHogwarts teacher,he’ddo

nothin’ofthesort.”“SowhydidhejusttryandkillHarry?”criedHermione. The afternoon’s events certainly seemed to have changed hermind

aboutSnape.“IknowajinxwhenIseeone,Hagrid,I’vereadallaboutthem!You’ve

gottokeepeyecontact,andSnapewasn’tblinkingatall,Isawhim!” “I’m tellin’ yeh, yerwrong!” saidHagrid hotly. “I don’ knowwhy

Harry’sbroomacted like that, butSnapewouldn’ try an’ kill a student!Now,listentome,allthreeofyeh—yermeddlin’inthingsthatdon’concernyeh.It’sdangerous.Youforgetthatdog,an’youforgetwhatit’sguardin’,that’sbetweenProfessorDumbledorean’NicolasFlamel—”

“Aha!”saidHarry,“sothere’ssomeonecalledNicolasFlamelinvolved,isthere?”

Hagridlookedfuriouswithhimself.

HP1-HarryPotterandtheSorcerer'sStone

CHAPTERTWELVE

THEMIRROROFERISED

Christmaswascoming.Onemorninginmid-December,Hogwartswoketofinditselfcoveredinseveralfeetofsnow.ThelakefrozesolidandtheWeasleytwins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followedQuirrellaround,bouncingoffthebackofhisturban.ThefewowlsthatmanagedtobattletheirwaythroughthestormyskytodelivermailhadtobenursedbacktohealthbyHagridbeforetheycouldflyoffagain.

No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Gryffindorcommon room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the drafty corridors hadbecomeicyandabitterwindrattledthewindowsintheclassrooms.WorstofallwereProfessorSnape’sclassesdowninthedungeons,wheretheirbreathroseinamistbeforethemandtheykeptascloseaspossibletotheirhotcauldrons.

“Idofeelsosorry,”saidDracoMalfoy,onePotionsclass,“forallthosepeoplewhohavetostayatHogwartsforChristmasbecausethey’renotwantedathome.”

HewaslookingoveratHarryashespoke.CrabbeandGoylechuckled.Harry,whowasmeasuringoutpowderedspineoflionfish,ignoredthem.MalfoyhadbeenevenmoreunpleasantthanusualsincetheQuidditchmatch.DisgustedthattheSlytherinshadlost,hehadtriedtogeteveryonelaughingathowawide-mouthedtreefrogwouldbereplacingHarryasSeekernext.Thenhe’drealizedthat nobody found this funny, because theywere all so impressed at thewayHarryhadmanagedtostayonhisbuckingbroomstick.SoMalfoy, jealousandangry,hadgonebacktotauntingHarryabouthavingnoproperfamily.

ItwastruethatHarrywasn’tgoingbacktoPrivetDriveforChristmas.Professor McGonagall had come around the week before, making a list ofstudents who would be staying for the holidays, and Harry had signed up atonce. He didn’t feel sorry for himself at all; this would probably be the bestChristmashe’d everhad.Ronandhisbrotherswere staying, too, becauseMr.andMrs.WeasleyweregoingtoRomaniatovisitCharlie.

WhentheyleftthedungeonsattheendofPotions,theyfoundalargefirtreeblockingthecorridorahead.TwoenormousfeetstickingoutatthebottomandaloudpuffingsoundtoldthemthatHagridwasbehindit.

“Hi,Hagrid,wantanyhelp?”Ronasked,stickinghisheadthroughthebranches.

“Nah,I’mallright,thanks,Ron.”“Wouldyoumindmovingoutoftheway?”cameMalfoy’scolddrawl

frombehindthem.“Areyoutryingtoearnsomeextramoney,Weasley?Hopingtobegamekeeperyourselfwhenyou leaveHogwarts, I suppose—thathutofHagrid’smustseemlikeapalacecomparedtowhatyourfamily’susedto.”

RondivedatMalfoyjustasSnapecameupthestairs.“WEASLEY!”RonletgoofthefrontofMalfoy’srobes. “Hewasprovoked,ProfessorSnape,” saidHagrid, stickinghishuge

hairyfaceoutfrombehindthetree.“Malfoywasinsultin’hisfamily.” “Be that as itmay, fighting is againstHogwarts rules,Hagrid,” said

Snape silkily. “Five points fromGryffindor,Weasley, and be grateful it isn’tmore.Movealong,allofyou.”

Malfoy,Crabbe, andGoyle pushed roughly past the tree, scatteringneedleseverywhereandsmirking.

“I’llgethim,”saidRon,grindinghis teethatMalfoy’sback,“oneofthesedays,I’llgethim—”

“Ihatethemboth,”saidHarry,“MalfoyandSnape.” “Come on, cheer up, it’s nearlyChristmas,” saidHagrid. “Tell yeh

what,comewithmean’seetheGreatHall,looksatreat.”SothethreeofthemfollowedHagridandhistreeofftotheGreatHall,

where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy with theChristmasdecorations.

“Ah,Hagrid,thelasttree—putitinthefarcorner,wouldyou?” Thehall lookedspectacular.Festoonsofhollyandmistletoehungall

aroundthewalls,andnolessthantwelvetoweringChristmastreesstoodaroundthe room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds ofcandles.

“Howmanydaysyougotleftuntilyerholidays?”Hagridasked.“Justone,”saidHermione.“Andthatremindsme—Harry,Ron,we’ve

gothalfanhourbeforelunch,weshouldbeinthelibrary.”“Ohyeah,you’reright,”saidRon,tearinghiseyesawayfromProfessor

Flitwick,whohadgoldenbubblesblossomingoutofhiswandandwastrailingthemoverthebranchesofthenewtree.

“Thelibrary?”saidHagrid,followingthemoutofthehall.“Justbeforetheholidays?Bitkeen,aren’tyeh?”

“Oh,we’re notworking,”Harry told him brightly. “Ever since youmentionedNicolasFlamelwe’vebeentryingtofindoutwhoheis.”

“Youwhat?”Hagridlookedshocked.“Listenhere—I’vetoldyeh—

dropit.It’snothin’toyouwhatthatdog’sguardin’.” “We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that’s all,” said

Hermione. “Unlessyou’d like to tellusandsaveus the trouble?”Harryadded.

“Wemust’ve been through hundreds of books already andwe can’t find himanywhere—justgiveusahint—IknowI’vereadhisnamesomewhere.”

“I’msayin’nothin’,saidHagridflatly. “Just have to find out for ourselves, then,” said Ron, and they left

Hagridlookingdisgruntledandhurriedofftothelibrary. Theyhad indeedbeensearchingbooksforFlamel’snameeversince

Hagridhadletitslip,becausehowelseweretheygoingtofindoutwhatSnapewastryingtosteal?Thetroublewas,itwasveryhardtoknowwheretobegin,notknowingwhatFlamelmighthavedonetogethimselfintoabook.Hewasn’tinGreatWizardsof theTwentiethCentury,orNotableMagicalNamesofOurTime;hewasmissing,too,fromImportantModernMagicalDiscoveries,andAStudyofRecentDevelopmentsinWizardry.Andthen,ofcourse,therewasthesheer size of the library; tens of thousands of books; thousands of shelves;hundredsofnarrowrows.

Hermionetookoutalistofsubjectsandtitlesshehaddecidedtosearchwhile Ron strode off down a row of books and started pulling them off theshelvesatrandom.HarrywanderedovertotheRestrictedSection.HehadbeenwonderingforawhileifFlamelwasn’tsomewhereinthere.Unfortunately,youneeded a specially signed note fromone of the teachers to look in any of therestricted books, and he knew he’d never get one. These were the bookscontaining powerful DarkMagic never taught at Hogwarts, and only read byolderstudentsstudyingadvancedDefenseAgainsttheDarkArts.

“Whatareyoulookingfor,boy?”“Nothing,”saidHarry.MadamPincethelibrarianbrandishedafeatherdusterathim.“You’dbettergetout,then.Goon—out!”Wishinghe’dbeenabitquickeratthinkingupsomestory,Harryleft

the library. He, Ron, and Hermione had already agreed they’d better not askMadamPincewheretheycouldfindFlamel.Theyweresureshe’dbeabletotellthem,buttheycouldn’triskSnapehearingwhattheywereupto.

Harrywaitedoutsideinthecorridortoseeiftheothertwohadfoundanything, but hewasn’t very hopeful. They had been looking for twoweeks,afterA,butastheyonlyhadoddmomentsbetweenlessonsitwasn’tsurprisingthey’d foundnothing.What they reallyneededwasanice longsearchwithoutMadamPincebreathingdowntheirnecks.

Fiveminuteslater,RonandHermionejoinedhim,shakingtheirheads.Theywentofftolunch.

“YouwillkeeplookingwhileI’maway,won’tyou?”saidHermione.“Andsendmeanowlifyoufindanything.”

“Andyoucouldaskyourparents if theyknowwhoFlamel is,” saidRon.“It’dbesafetoaskthem.”

“Verysafe,asthey’rebothdentists,”saidHermione.

Oncetheholidayshadstarted,RonandHarrywerehavingtoogoodatimeto think much about Flamel. They had the dormitory to themselves and thecommon roomwas far emptier than usual, so theywere able to get the goodarmchairsbythefire.Theysatbythehoureatinganythingtheycouldspearonatoastingfork—bread,Englishmuffins,marshmallows—andplottingwaysofgettingMalfoy expelled, which were fun to talk about even if they wouldn’twork.

Ronalso started teachingHarrywizard chess.Thiswas exactly likeMuggle chess except that the figures were alive, which made it a lot likedirectingtroopsinbattle.Ron’ssetwasveryoldandbattered.Likeeverythingelse he owned, it had once belonged to someone else in his family— in thiscase, his grandfather.However, old chessmenweren’t a drawback at all. Ronknewthemsowellheneverhadtroublegettingthemtodowhathewanted.

HarryplayedwithchessmenSeamusFinniganhadlenthim,andtheydidn’ttrusthimatall.Hewasn’taverygoodplayeryetandtheykeptshoutingdifferentbitsofadviceathim,whichwasconfusing.“Don’tsendmethere,can’tyouseehisknight?Sendhim,wecanaffordtolosehim.”

OnChristmasEve,Harrywenttobedlookingforwardtothenextdayfor the foodand the fun,butnotexpectinganypresentsat all.Whenhewokeearly in the morning, however, the first thing he saw was a small pile ofpackagesatthefootofhisbed.

“MerryChristmas,”saidRonsleepilyasHarryscrambledoutofbedandpulledonhisbathrobe.

“You,too,”saidHarry.“Willyoulookatthis?I’vegotsomepresents!” “What did you expect, turnips?” saidRon, turning to his own pile,

whichwasalotbiggerthanHarry’s. Harrypickedupthetopparcel. Itwaswrappedin thickbrownpaper

and scrawled across it was To Harry, fromHagrid. Inside was a roughly cutwooden flute. Hagrid had obviously whittled it himself. Harry blew it — itsoundedabitlikeanowl.

Asecond,verysmallparcelcontainedanote.

WereceivedyourmessageandencloseyourChristmaspresent.FromUncleVernonandAuntPetunia.Tapedtothenotewasafifty-pencepiece.

“That’sfriendly,”saidHarry.Ronwasfascinatedbythefiftypence.“Weird!”hesaid,‘Whatashape!Thisismoney?” “You can keep it,” said Harry, laughing at how pleased Ron was.

“Hagridandmyauntanduncle—sowhosentthese?”“IthinkIknowwhothatone’sfrom,”saidRon,turningabitpinkand

pointing to a very lumpy parcel. “Mymom. I told her you didn’t expect anypresentsand—oh,no,”hegroaned,“she’smadeyouaWeasleysweater.”

Harryhadtornopentheparceltofindathick,hand-knittedsweaterinemeraldgreenandalargeboxofhomemadefudge.

“Everyyearshemakesusasweater,”saidRon,unwrappinghisown,“andmine’salwaysmaroon.”

“That’sreallyniceofher,”saidHarry,tryingthefudge,whichwasverytasty.

Hisnextpresentalsocontainedcandy—alargeboxofChocolateFrogsfromHermione.

Thisonlyleftoneparcel.Harrypickeditupandfeltit.Itwasverylight.Heunwrappedit.

Somethingfluidandsilverygraywentslitheringtothefloorwhereitlayingleamingfolds.Rongasped.

“I’veheardofthose,”hesaidinahushedvoice,droppingtheboxofEveryFlavorBeanshe’dgottenfromHermione.“Ifthat’swhatI thinkit is—they’rereallyrare,andreallyvaluable.”

“Whatisit?” Harrypickedtheshining,silveryclothoffthefloor.Itwasstrangeto

thetouch,likewaterwovenintomaterial. “It’saninvisibilitycloak,”saidRon,alookofaweonhisface.“I’m

sureitis—tryiton.”HarrythrewthecloakaroundhisshouldersandRongaveayell.“Itis!Lookdown!” Harrylookeddownathisfeet,but theyweregone.Hedashedto the

mirror.Sureenough,hisreflectionlookedbackathim,justhisheadsuspendedinmidair,hisbodycompletelyinvisible.Hepulledthecloakoverhisheadandhisreflectionvanishedcompletely.

“There’sanote!”saidRonsuddenly.“Anotefelloutofit!” Harry pulled off the cloak and seized the letter.Written in narrow,

loopywritinghehadneverseenbeforewerethefollowingwords:

Yourfatherleftthisinmypossessionbeforehedied.Itistimeitwasreturnedtoyou.Useitwell.AVeryMerryChristmastoyou.

There was no signature. Harry stared at the note. Ron was admiring thecloak.

“I’dgiveanything foroneof these,”hesaid.“Anything.What’s thematter?”

“Nothing,”saidHarry.Hefeltverystrange.Whohadsentthecloak?Haditreallyoncebelongedtohisfather?

Before he could say or think anything else, the dormitory doorwasflungopenandFredandGeorgeWeasleybounded in.Harry stuffed thecloakquicklyoutofsight.Hedidn’tfeellikesharingitwithanyoneelseyet.

“MerryChristmas!”“Hey,look—Harry’sgotaWeasleysweater,too!”FredandGeorgewerewearingbluesweaters,onewithalargeyellowF

onit,theotheraG. “Harry’s is better thanours, though,” saidFred, holdingupHarry’s

sweater.“Sheobviouslymakesmoreofaneffortifyou’renotfamily.”“Whyaren’tyouwearingyours,Ron?”Georgedemanded.“Comeon,

getiton,they’relovelyandwarm.” “I hatemaroon,”Ronmoanedhalfheartedly as he pulled it over his

head.“Youhaven’tgotaletteronyours,”Georgeobserved.“Isupposeshe

thinks you don’t forget your name. But we’re not stupid— we know we’recalledGredandForge.”

“What’sallthisnoise?”PercyWeasleystuckhisheadthroughthedoor,lookingdisapproving.

He had clearly gotten halfway through unwrapping his presents as he, too,carriedalumpysweateroverhisarm,whichFredseized.

“Pforprefect!Getiton,Percy,comeon,we’reallwearingours,evenHarrygotone.”

“I—don’t— want—”saidPercy thickly, as the twins forced thesweateroverhishead,knockinghisglassesaskew.

“Andyou’renotsittingwith theprefects today,either,”saidGeorge.“Christmasisatimeforfamily.”

Theyfrog-marchedPercyfromtheroom,hisarmspinnedtohissideby

hissweater.

HarryhadneverinallhislifehadsuchaChristmasdinner.Ahundredfat,roast turkeys; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of chipolatas;tureensofbutteredpeas,silverboatsofthick,richgravyandcranberrysauce–and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table. These fantasticparty favors were nothing like the feeble Muggle ones the Dursleys usuallybought, with their little plastic toys and their flimsy paper hats inside. HarrypulledawizardcrackerwithFredanditdidn’tjustbang,itwentoffwithablastlikeacannonandengulfed themall inacloudofblue smoke,while from theinsideexplodedarearadmiral’shatandseverallive,whitemice.UpattheHighTable,Dumbledorehadswappedhispointedwizard’shatforafloweredbonnet,andwaschucklingmerrilyatajokeProfessorFlitwickhadjustreadhim.

FlamingChristmaspuddingsfollowedthe turkey.Percynearlybrokehisteethonasilversickleembeddedinhisslice.HarrywatchedHagridgettingredder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissingProfessorMcGonagall on the cheek,who, toHarry’s amazement, giggled andblushed,hertophatlopsided.

WhenHarryfinallyleft thetable,hewasladendownwithastackofthings out of the crackers, including a pack of nonexplodable, luminousballoons,aGrow-Your-Own-Wartskit,andhisownnewwizardchessset.Thewhitemicehaddisappeared andHarryhad anasty feeling theyweregoing toendupasMrs.Norris’sChristmasdinner.

Harry and theWeasleys spent a happy afternoon having a furioussnowball fight on the grounds. Then, cold, wet, and gasping for breath, theyreturned to the fire in theGryffindorcommonroom,whereHarrybroke inhisnew chess set by losing spectacularly toRon.He suspected hewouldn’t havelostsobadlyifPercyhadn’ttriedtohelphimsomuch.

Afteramealofturkeysandwiches,crumpets,trifle,andChristmascake,everyone felt too full and sleepy to domuch before bed except sit andwatchPercychaseFredandGeorgealloverGryffindortowerbecausethey’dstolenhisprefectbadge.

IthadbeenHarry’sbestChristmasdayever.Yetsomethinghadbeennaggingat thebackofhismindallday.Notuntilheclimbed intobedwashefreetothinkaboutit:theinvisibilitycloakandwhoeverhadsentit.

Ron,fullofturkeyandcakeandwithnothingmysterioustobotherhim,fell asleepalmost as soonashe’ddrawn thecurtainsofhis four-poster.Harryleanedoverthesideofhisownbedandpulledthecloakoutfromunderit.

Hisfather’s…thishadbeenhisfather’s.Heletthematerialflowover

hishands,smootherthansilk,lightasair.Useitwell,thenotehadsaid. Hehad to try it, now.He slippedoutofbedandwrapped thecloak

aroundhimself.Lookingdownathislegs,hesawonlymoonlightandshadows.Itwasaveryfunnyfeeling.

Useitwell.Suddenly,Harryfeltwide-awake.ThewholeofHogwartswasopento

himinthiscloak.Excitementfloodedthroughhimashestoodthereinthedarkand silence. He could go anywhere in this, anywhere, and Filchwould neverknow.

Rongruntedinhissleep.ShouldHarrywakehim?Somethingheldhimback—hisfather’scloak—hefeltthatthistime—thefirsttime—hewantedtouseitalone.

He crept out of the dormitory, down the stairs, across the commonroom,andclimbedthroughtheportraithole.

“Who’sthere?”squawkedtheFatLady.Harrysaidnothing.Hewalkedquicklydownthecorridor.

Whereshouldhego?Hestopped,hisheart racing,andthought.Andthenitcametohim.TheRestrictedSectioninthelibrary.He’dbeabletoreadaslong as he liked, as long as it took to find out who Flamel was. He set off,drawingtheinvisibilitycloaktightaroundhimashewalked.

Thelibrarywaspitch-blackandveryeerie.Harrylitalamptoseehisway along the rows of books. The lamp looked as if it was floating along inmidair,andeven thoughHarrycould feelhisarmsupporting it, thesightgavehimthecreeps.

TheRestrictedSectionwas rightat thebackof the library.Steppingcarefullyovertheropethatseparatedthesebooksfromtherestofthelibrary,hehelduphislamptoreadthetitles.

They didn’t tell himmuch.Their peeling, faded gold letters spelledwords in languages Harry couldn’t understand. Some had no title at all. Onebookhadadarkstainonitthatlookedhorriblylikeblood.ThehairsonthebackofHarry’sneckprickled.Maybehewasimaginingit,maybenot,buthethoughta faintwhisperingwascoming from thebooks, as though theyknewsomeonewastherewhoshouldn’tbe.

He had to start somewhere. Setting the lampdown carefully on thefloor,helookedalongthebottomshelfforaninterestinglookingbook.Alargeblackandsilvervolumecaughthiseye.Hepulleditoutwithdifficulty,becauseitwasveryheavy,and,balancingitonhisknee,letitfallopen.

A piercing, bloodcurdling shriek split the silence— the book wasscreaming! Harry snapped it shut, but the shriek went on and on, one high,

unbroken,earsplittingnote.Hestumbledbackwardandknockedoverhislamp,whichwentoutatonce.Panicking,heheardfootstepscomingdownthecorridoroutside—stuffingtheshriekingbookbackontheshelf,heranforit.HepassedFilch in thedoorway;Filch’spale,wildeyes lookedstraight throughhim,andHarry slippedunderFilch’s outstretched armand streakedoff up the corridor,thebook’sshrieksstillringinginhisears.

Hecametoasuddenhaltinfrontofatallsuitofarmor.Hehadbeensobusy getting away from the library, he hadn’t paid attention towhere hewasgoing. Perhaps because it was dark, he didn’t recognize where he was at all.Therewasasuitofarmornearthekitchens,heknew,buthemustbefivefloorsabovethere.

“You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone waswandering around at night, and somebody’s been in the library RestrictedSection.”

Harryfelttheblooddrainoutofhisface.Whereverhewas,Filchmustknow a shortcut, because his soft, greasy voicewas getting nearer, and to hishorror, itwasSnapewhoreplied,“TheRestrictedSection?Well, theycan’tbefar,we’llcatchthem.”

Harry stood rooted to the spot as Filch andSnape came around thecornerahead.Theycouldn’tseehim,ofcourse,butitwasanarrowcorridorandif theycamemuchnearer they’dknockright intohim—thecloakdidn’tstophimfrombeingsolid.

Hebackedawayasquietlyashecould.Adoorstoodajartohisleft.Itwas his only hope. He squeezed through it, holding his breath, trying not tomove it, and to his relief he managed to get inside the room without theirnoticinganything.Theywalkedstraightpast,andHarryleanedagainstthewall,breathingdeeply, listening to their footstepsdyingaway.Thathadbeenclose,veryclose.Itwasafewsecondsbeforehenoticedanythingabouttheroomhehadhiddenin.

Itlookedlikeanunusedclassroom.Thedarkshapesofdesksandchairswerepiledagainstthewalls,andtherewasanupturnedwastepaperbasket–butpropped against the wall facing him was something that didn’t look as if itbelongedthere,somethingthatlookedasifsomeonehadjustputittheretokeepitoutoftheway.

Itwasamagnificentmirror,ashighastheceiling,withanornategoldframe,standingontwoclawedfeet.Therewasaninscriptioncarvedaroundthetop:Erisedstraehruoytubecafruoytonwohsi.HispanicfadingnowthattherewasnosoundofFilchandSnape,Harrymovednearertothemirror,wantingtolookathimselfbutseenoreflectionagain.Hesteppedinfrontofit.

Hehadtoclaphishandstohismouthtostophimselffromscreaming.Hewhirled around.His heartwas pounding farmore furiously thanwhen thebook had screamed— for he had seen not only himself in the mirror, but awholecrowdofpeoplestandingrightbehindhim.

Buttheroomwasempty.Breathingveryfast,heturnedslowlybacktothemirror.

There he was, reflected in it, white and scared-looking, and there,reflectedbehindhim,wereatleasttenothers.Harrylookedoverhisshoulder—butstill,noonewas there.Orwere theyall invisible, too?Washe infact inaroomfullof invisiblepeopleand thismirror’s trickwas that it reflected them,invisibleornot?

He looked in themirror again.Awoman standing right behind hisreflectionwassmilingathimandwaving.Hereachedoutahandandfelttheairbehind him. If she was really there, he’d touch her, their reflections were soclosetogether,buthefeltonlyair–sheandtheothersexistedonlyinthemirror.

Shewasaveryprettywoman.Shehaddarkredhairandhereyes—hereyesarejustlikemine,Harrythought,edgingalittleclosertotheglass.Brightgreen — exactly the same shape, but then he noticed that she was crying;smiling,but cryingat the same time.The tall, thin,black-hairedman standingnext to her put his arm around her. He wore glasses, and his hair was veryuntidy.Itstuckupattheback,justasHarry’sdid.

Harrywassoclosetothemirrornowthathisnosewasnearlytouchingthatofhisreflection.

“Mom?”hewhispered.“Dad?” They just lookedathim,smiling.Andslowly,Harry looked into the

facesoftheotherpeopleinthemirror,andsawotherpairsofgreeneyeslikehis,othernoseslikehis,evenalittleoldmanwholookedasthoughhehadHarry’sknobblyknees—Harrywaslookingathisfamily,forthefirsttimeinhislife.

ThePotterssmiledandwavedatHarryandhestaredhungrilybackatthem, his hands pressed flat against the glass as though hewas hoping to fallrightthroughitandreachthem.Hehadapowerfulkindofacheinsidehim,halfjoy,halfterriblesadness.

Howlonghestoodthere,hedidn’tknow.Thereflectionsdidnotfadeandhe lookedandlookeduntiladistantnoisebroughthimback tohissenses.Hecouldn’tstayhere,hehadtofindhiswaybacktobed.Hetorehiseyesawayfromhismother’sface,whispered,“I’llcomeback,”andhurriedfromtheroom.

“Youcouldhavewokenmeup,”saidRon,crossly.“Youcancometonight,I’mgoingback,Iwanttoshowyouthemirror.

“I’dliketoseeyourmomanddad,”Ronsaideagerly.“AndIwanttoseeallyourfamily,alltheWeasleys,you’llbeableto

showmeyourotherbrothersandeveryone.”“Youcanseethemanyoldtime,”saidRon.“Justcomeroundmyhouse

this summer. Anyway, maybe it only shows dead people. Shame about notfindingFlamel, though.Havesomebaconorsomething,whyaren’tyoueatinganything?”

Harrycouldn’teat.Hehadseenhisparentsandwouldbeseeingthemagain tonight. He had almost forgotten about Flamel. It didn’t seem veryimportantanymore.Whocaredwhatthethreeheadeddogwasguarding?WhatdiditmatterifSnapestoleit,really?

“Areyouallright?”saidRon.“Youlookodd.”

WhatHarry fearedmostwas thathemightnotbe able to find themirrorroomagain.WithRoncovered in thecloak, too, theyhad towalkmuchmoreslowly the next night. They tried retracing Harry’s route from the library,wanderingaroundthedarkpassagewaysfornearlyanhour.

“I’mfreezing,”saidRon.“Let’sforgetitandgoback.”“No!”Harryhissed.Iknowit’sheresomewhere.”Theypassedtheghostofatallwitchglidingintheoppositedirection,

but sawnooneelse. just asRon startedmoaning thathis feetweredeadwithcold,Harryspottedthesuitofarmor.

“It’shere—justhere—yes!”Theypushedthedooropen.Harrydroppedthecloakfromaroundhis

shouldersandrantothemirror.Theretheywere.Hismotherandfatherbeamedatthesightofhim.“See?”Harrywhispered.“Ican’tseeanything.”“Look!Lookatthemall…thereareloadsofthem.…”“Icanonlyseeyou.”“Lookinitproperly,goon,standwhereIam.”Harrysteppedaside,butwithRoninfrontofthemirror,hecouldn’tsee

hisfamilyanymore,justRoninhispaisleypajamas.Ron,though,wasstaringtransfixedathisimage.“Lookatme!”hesaid.“Canyouseeallyourfamilystandingaroundyou?”“No—I’malone—butI’mdifferent—Ilookolder—andI’mhead

boy!”“What?”

“Iam—I’mwearingthebadgelikeBillusedto—andI’mholdingthehousecupandtheQuidditchcup—I’mQuidditchcaptain,too.”

Ron torehis eyesaway from this splendid sight to lookexcitedlyatHarry.

“Doyouthinkthismirrorshowsthefuture?”“Howcanit?Allmyfamilyaredead—letmehaveanotherlook—”“Youhadittoyourselfalllastnight,givemeabitmoretime.”“You’reonlyholdingtheQuidditchcup,what’sinterestingaboutthat?I

wanttoseemyparents.”“Don’tpushme—” Asuddennoiseoutsideinthecorridorputanendtotheirdiscussion.

Theyhadn’trealizedhowloudlytheyhadbeentalking.“Quick!” Ron threw the cloak back over them as the luminous eyes ofMrs.

Norriscameroundthedoor.RonandHarrystoodquitestill,both thinking thesamething—didthecloakworkoncats?Afterwhatseemedanage,sheturnedandleft.

“Thisisn’tsafe—shemighthavegoneforFilch,Ibetsheheardus.Comeon.”

AndRonpulledHarryoutoftheroom.

Thesnowstillhadn’tmeltedthenextmorning.“Wanttoplaychess,Harry?”saidRon.“No.”“Whydon’twegodownandvisitHagrid?”“No…yougo…”“Iknowwhatyou’rethinkingabout,Harry,thatmirror.Don’tgoback

tonight.”“Whynot?”“Idunno,I’vejustgotabadfeelingaboutit—andanyway,you’vehad

too many close shaves already. Filch, Snape, andMrs. Norris are wanderingaround.Sowhatiftheycan’tseeyou?Whatiftheywalkintoyou?Whatifyouknocksomethingover?”

“YousoundlikeHermione.”“I’mserious,Harry,don’tgo.”ButHarryonlyhadonethoughtinhishead,whichwastogetbackin

frontofthemirror,andRonwasn’tgoingtostophim.

That third night he found his way more quickly than before. He was

walkingsofastheknewhewasmakingmorenoisethanwaswise,buthedidn’tmeetanyone.

Andtherewerehismotherandfathersmilingathimagain,andoneofhisgrandfathersnoddinghappily.Harrysankdowntositonthefloorinfrontofthemirror.Therewasnothing tostophimfromstayinghereallnightwithhisfamily.Nothingatall.

Except—“So—backagain,Harry?” Harry felt as thoughhis insideshad turned to ice.He lookedbehind

him. Sitting on one of the desks by the wall was none other than AlbusDumbledore.Harrymusthavewalked straightpasthim, sodesperate toget tothemirrorhehadn’tnoticedhim.

“I—Ididn’tseeyou,sir.” “Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you,” said

Dumbledore,andHarrywasrelievedtoseethathewassmiling. “So,”saidDumbledore,slippingoff thedesk tositon thefloorwith

Harry, “you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of theMirrorofErised.”

“Ididn’tknowitwascalledthat,Sir.”“ButIexpectyou’verealizedbynowwhatitdoes?”“It—well—itshowsmemyfamily—”“AnditshowedyourfriendRonhimselfasheadboy.”“Howdidyouknow—?” “Idon’tneedacloak tobecome invisible,” saidDumbledoregently.

“Now,canyouthinkwhattheMirrorofErisedshowsusall?”Harryshookhishead. “Letmeexplain.Thehappiestmanonearthwouldbeabletousethe

Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and seehimselfexactlyasheis.Doesthathelp?”

Harry thought. Then he said slowly, “It shows uswhatwewant…whateverwewant…”

“Yesandno,”saidDumbledorequietly.“Itshowsusnothingmoreorlessthanthedeepest,mostdesperatedesireofourhearts.You,whohaveneverknown your family, see them standing around you.RonaldWeasley,who hasalwaysbeenovershadowedbyhisbrothers,seeshimselfstandingalone,thebestofallofthem.However,thismirrorwillgiveusneitherknowledgeortruth.Menhavewastedawaybefore it,entrancedbywhat theyhaveseen,orbeendrivenmad,notknowingifwhatitshowsisrealorevenpossible.

“TheMirrorwillbemovedtoanewhometomorrow,Harry,andIask

younottogolookingforitagain.Ifyoueverdorunacrossit,youwillnowbeprepared. Itdoesnotdo todwellondreamsandforget to live, remember that.Now,whydon’tyouputthatadmirablecloakbackonandgetofftobed?”

Harrystoodup.“Sir—ProfessorDumbledore?CanIaskyousomething?”“Obviously,you’vejustdoneso,”Dumbledoresmiled.“Youmayask

meonemorething,however.”“Whatdoyouseewhenyoulookinthemirror?”“I?Iseemyselfholdingapairofthick,woolensocks.”Harrystared. “One can never have enough socks,” said Dumbledore. “Another

ChristmashascomeandgoneandIdidn’tgetasinglepair.Peoplewillinsistongivingmebooks.”

It was only when he was back in bed that it struck Harry thatDumbledore might not have been quite truthful. But then, he thought, as heshovedScabbersoffhispillow,ithadbeenquiteapersonalquestion.

HP1-HarryPotterandtheSorcerer'sStone

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

NICHOLASFLAMEL

D umbledore had convinced Harry not to go looking for the Mirror ofErised again, and for the rest of the Christmas holidays the invisibility cloakstayedfoldedatthebottomofhistrunk.Harrywishedhecouldforgetwhathe’dseeninthemirroraseasily,buthecouldn’t.Hestartedhavingnightmares.Overand over again he dreamed about his parents disappearing in a flash of greenlight,whileahighvoicecackledwithlaughter.

“Yousee,Dumbledorewasright,thatmirrorcoulddriveyoumad,”saidRon,whenHarrytoldhimaboutthesedreams.

Hermione,whocamebackthedaybeforetermstarted,tookadifferentviewof things.Shewas tornbetweenhorrorat the ideaofHarrybeingoutofbed,roamingtheschoolthreenightsinarow(“IfFilchhadcaughtyou!”),anddisappointmentthathehadn’tatleastfoundoutwhoNicolasFlamelwas.

TheyhadalmostgivenuphopeofeverfindingFlamelinalibrarybook,eventhoughHarrywasstillsurehe’dreadthenamesomewhere.Oncetermhadstarted,theywerebacktoskimmingthroughbooksfortenminutesduringtheirbreaks.Harryhadevenlesstimethantheothertwo,becauseQuidditchpracticehadstartedagain.

Woodwasworking the teamharder thanever.Even theendless rainthat had replaced the snow couldn’t dampen his spirits. The WeasleyscomplainedthatWoodwasbecomingafanatic,butHarrywasonWood’sside.Iftheywontheirnextmatch,againstHufflepuff,theywouldovertakeSlytherinin the house championship for the first time in seven years.Quite apart fromwantingtowin,Harryfoundthathehadfewernightmareswhenhewastiredoutaftertraining.

Then,duringoneparticularlywetandmuddypracticesession,Woodgavetheteamabitofbadnews.He’djustgottenveryangrywiththeWeasleys,whokeptdive-bombingeachotherandpretendingtofallofftheirbrooms.

“Willyoustopmessingaround!”heyelled.“That’sexactlythesortofthingthat’llloseusthematch!Snape’srefereeingthistime,andhe’llbelookingforanyexcusetoknockpointsoffGryffindor!”

GeorgeWeasleyreallydidfalloffhisbroomatthesewords. “Snape’s refereeing?” he spluttered through a mouthful of mud.

“When’s he ever refereed aQuidditchmatch?He’s not going to be fair ifwe

mightovertakeSlytherin.”TherestoftheteamlandednexttoGeorgetocomplain,too.“It’snotmyfault,”saidWood.“We’vejustgottomakesureweplaya

cleangame,soSnapehasn’tgotanexcusetopickonus.”Whichwasallverywell,thoughtHarry,buthehadanotherreasonfor

notwantingSnapenearhimwhilehewasplayingQuidditch.…Therestoftheteamhungbacktotalktooneanotherasusualattheend

of practice, but Harry headed straight back to the Gryffindor common room,where he found Ron and Hermione playing chess. Chess was the only thingHermioneeverlostat,somethingHarryandRonthoughtwasverygoodforher.

“Don’ttalktomeforamoment,”saidRonwhenHarrysatdownnexttohim,“Ineedtoconcen—”HecaughtsightofHarry’sface.

“What’sthematterwithyou?Youlookterrible.” Speakingquietlysothatnooneelsewouldhear,Harrytoldtheother

twoaboutSnape’ssudden,sinisterdesiretobeaQuidditchreferee.“Don’tplay,”saidHermioneatonce.“Sayyou’reill,”saidRon.“Pretendtobreakyourleg,”Hermionesuggested.“Reallybreakyourleg,”saidRon. “I can’t,” said Harry. “There isn’t a reserve Seeker. If I back out,

Gryffindorcan’tplayatall.” At thatmomentNeville toppledintothecommonroom.Howhehad

managedtoclimbthroughtheportraitholewasanyone’sguess,becausehislegshadbeen stuck togetherwithwhat they recognized at once as theLeg-LockerCurse.HemusthavehadtobunnyhopallthewayuptoGryffindortower.

Everyone fell over laughing except Hermione, who leapt up andperformed the countercurse.Neville’s legs sprangapart andhegot tohis feet,trembling.“Whathappened?”Hermioneaskedhim,leadinghimovertositwithHarryandRon.

“Malfoy,”saidNevilleshakily.“Imethimoutsidethelibrary.Hesaidhe’dbeenlookingforsomeonetopracticethaton.”

“GotoProfessorMcGonagall!”HermioneurgedNeville.“Reporthim!”Nevilleshookhishead.“Idon’twantmoretrouble,”hemumbled. “You’ve got to stand up to him,Neville!” saidRon. “He’s used to

walking all over people, but that’s no reason to lie down in front of him andmakeiteasier.”

“There’snoneedtotellmeI’mnotbraveenoughtobeinGryffindor,Malfoy’salreadydonethat,”Nevillechokedout.

HarryfeltinthepocketofhisrobesandpulledoutaChocolateFrog,theverylastonefromtheboxHermionehadgivenhimforChristmas.HegaveittoNeville,wholookedasthoughhemightcry.

“You’reworthtwelveofMalfoy,”Harrysaid.“TheSortingHatchoseyouforGryffindor,didn’tit?Andwhere’sMalfoy?InstinkingSlytherin.”

Neville’slipstwitchedinaweaksmileasheunwrappedthefrog. “Thanks,Harry…I think I’ll go to bed.…D’youwant the card, you

collectthem,don’tyou?”AsNevillewalkedaway,HarrylookedattheFamousWizardcard.“Dumbledoreagain,”hesaid,“HewasthefirstoneIever—”Hegasped.Hestaredatthebackofthecard.ThenhelookedupatRon

andHermione.“I’vefoundhim!”hewhispered.“I’vefoundFlamel!ItoldyouI’dread

thenamesomewherebefore,Ireaditonthetraincominghere—listentothis:‘Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizardGrindelwaldin1945,forthediscoveryofthetwelveusesofdragon’sblood,andhisworkonalchemywithhispartner,NicolasFlamel’!”

Hermionejumpedtoherfeet.Shehadn’tlookedsoexcitedsincethey’dgottenbackthemarksfortheirveryfirstpieceofhomework.

“Stay there!” she said, and she sprinted up the stairs to the girls’dormitories.HarryandRonbarelyhadtimetoexchangemystifiedlooksbeforeshewasdashingback,anenormousoldbookinherarms.

“Ineverthoughttolookinhere!”shewhisperedexcitedly.“Igotthisoutofthelibraryweeksagoforabitoflightreading.”

“Light?”saidRon,butHermionetoldhimtobequietuntilshe’dlookedsomething up, and started flicking frantically through the pages, muttering toherself.

Atlastshefoundwhatshewaslookingfor.“Iknewit!Iknewit!”“Areweallowedtospeakyet?”saidRongrumpily.Hermioneignored

him. “Nicolas Flamel,” she whispered dramatically, “is the only known

makeroftheSorcerer’sStone!”Thisdidn’thavequitetheeffectshe’dexpected.“Thewhat?”saidHarryandRon.“Oh,honestly,don’tyoutworead?Look–readthat,there.”Shepushedthebooktowardthem,andHarryandRonread:

The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Sorcerer’s

Stone,alegendarysubstancewithastonishingpowers.Thestonewilltransformanymetalintopuregold.ItalsoproducestheElixirofLife,whichwillmakethedrinkerimmortal.

Therehavebeenmany reports of theSorcerer’sStoneover the centuries,but the only Stone currently in existence belongs toMr. Nicolas Flamel, thenotedalchemistandoperalover.Mr.Flamel,whocelebratedhissixhundredandsixty-fifthbirthdaylastyear,enjoysaquietlifeinDevonwithhiswife,Perenelle(sixhundredandfifty-eight).

“See?”saidHermione,whenHarryandRonhad finished.“Thedogmustbe guarding Flamel’s Sorcerer’s Stone! I bet he askedDumbledore to keep itsafe forhim,because they’re friendsandheknewsomeonewasafter it, that’swhyhewantedtheStonemovedoutofGringotts!”

“Astonethatmakesgoldandstopsyoufromeverdying!”saidHarry.“NowonderSnape’safterit!Anyonewouldwantit.”

“And no wonder we couldn’t find Flamel in that Study of RecentDevelopments in Wizardry,” said Ron. “He’s not exactly recent if he’s sixhundredandsixty-five,ishe?”

ThenextmorninginDefenseAgainst theDarkArts,whilecopyingdowndifferentways of treatingwerewolf bites,Harry andRonwere still discussingwhatthey’ddowithaSorcerer’sStoneiftheyhadone.Itwasn’tuntilRonsaidhe’dbuyhisownQuidditch teamthatHarryrememberedaboutSnapeand thecomingmatch.

“I’mgoing to play,” he toldRon andHermione. “If I don’t, all theSlytherins will think I’m just too scared to face Snape. I’ll show them…it’llreallywipethesmilesofftheirfacesifwewin.”

“Justaslongaswe’renotwipingyouoffthefield,”saidHermione.

Asthematchdrewnearer,however,Harrybecamemoreandmorenervous,whatever he told Ron and Hermione. The rest of the team wasn’t too calm,either. The idea of overtaking Slytherin in the house championship waswonderful, no one had done it for sevenyears, butwould theybe allowed to,withsuchabiasedreferee?

Harrydidn’tknowwhetherhewasimaginingitornot,butheseemedtokeeprunningintoSnapewhereverhewent.Attimes,heevenwonderedwhetherSnapewasfollowinghim,tryingtocatchhimonhisown.Potionslessonswereturning into a sort of weekly torture, Snape was so horrible to Harry. CouldSnapepossiblyknowthey’dfoundoutabouttheSorcerer’sStone?Harrydidn’t

seehowhecould—yethesometimeshadthehorriblefeelingthatSnapecouldreadminds.

Harryknew,whentheywishedhimgoodluckoutsidethelockerroomsthenextafternoon,thatRonandHermionewerewonderingwhetherthey’deverseehimaliveagain.Thiswasn’twhatyou’dcallcomforting.HarryhardlyheardawordofWood’speptalkashepulledonhisQuidditchrobesandpickeduphisNimbusTwoThousand.

RonandHermione,meanwhile,hadfoundaplaceinthestandsnexttoNeville,whocouldn’tunderstandwhytheylookedsogrimandworried,orwhytheyhadbothbroughttheirwandstothematch.LittledidHarryknowthatRonandHermionehadbeensecretlypracticingtheLeg-LockerCurse.They’dgottentheideafromMalfoyusingitonNeville,andwerereadytouseitonSnapeifheshowedanysignofwantingtohurtHarry.

“Now,don’tforget,it’sLocomotorMortis,”HermionemutteredasRonslippedhiswanduphissleeve.

“Iknow,”Ronsnapped.“Don’tnag.”Backinthelockerroom,WoodhadtakenHarryaside. “Don’t want to pressure you, Potter, but if we ever need an early

capture of the Snitch it’s now. Finish the game before Snape can favorHufflepufftoomuch.”

“Thewholeschool’soutthere!”saidFredWeasley,peeringoutofthedoor.“Even—blimey—Dumbledore’scometowatch!”

Harry’sheartdidasomersault. “Dumbledore?”he said,dashing to thedoor tomakesure.Fredwas

right.Therewasnomistakingthatsilverbeard.HarrycouldhavelaughedoutloudwithreliefHewassafe.Therewas

simply no way that Snape would dare to try to hurt him if Dumbledore waswatching.

PerhapsthatwaswhySnapewaslookingsoangryastheteamsmarchedontothefield,somethingthatRonnoticed,too.

“I’venever seenSnape looksomean,”he toldHermione.“Look—they’reoff.Ouch!”

SomeonehadpokedRoninthebackofthehead.ItwasMalfoy.“Oh,sorry,Weasley,didn’tseeyouthere.”MalfoygrinnedbroadlyatCrabbeandGoyle. “Wonder how long Potter’s going to stay on his broom this time?

Anyonewantabet?Whataboutyou,Weasley?” Ron didn’t answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty

becauseGeorgeWeasleyhadhitaBludgerathim.Hermione,whohadallherfingerscrossedinherlap,wassquintingfixedlyatHarry,whowascirclingthegamelikeahawk,lookingfortheSnitch.

“YouknowhowIthinktheychoosepeoplefortheGryffindorteam?”saidMalfoy loudly a fewminutes later, as Snape awardedHufflepuff anotherpenaltyfornoreasonatall.“It’speopletheyfeelsorryfor.See,there’sPotter,who’sgotnoparents, thenthere’stheWeasleys,who’vegotnomoney—youshouldbeontheteam,Longbottom,you’vegotnobrains.”

NevillewentbrightredbutturnedinhisseattofaceMalfoy.“I’mworthtwelveofyou,Malfoy,”hestammered. Malfoy,Crabbe, andGoyle howledwith laughter, butRon, still not

daringtotakehiseyesfromthegame,said,“Youtellhim,Neville.” “Longbottom,ifbrainsweregoldyou’dbepoorerthanWeasley,and

that’ssayingsomething.”Ron’snerveswerealreadystretchedtothebreakingpointwithanxiety

aboutHarry.“I’mwarningyou,Malfoy—onemoreword—”“Ron!”saidHermionesuddenly,“Harry—”“What?Where?”Harryhadsuddenlygoneintoaspectaculardive,whichdrewgaspsand

cheersfromthecrowd.Hermionestoodup,hercrossedfingersinhermouth,asHarrystreakedtowardthegroundlikeabullet.

“You’reinluck,Weasley,Potter’sobviouslyspottedsomemoneyontheground!”saidMalfoy.

Ronsnapped.BeforeMalfoyknewwhatwashappening,Ronwasontopofhim,wrestlinghimtotheground.Nevillehesitated,thenclamberedoverthebackofhisseattohelp.

“Comeon,Harry!”Hermionescreamed,leapingontoherseattowatchasHarryspedstraightatSnape—shedidn’tevennoticeMalfoyandRonrollingaroundunderherseat,or thescufflesandyelpscomingfromthewhirlof fiststhatwasNeville,Crabbe,andGoyle.

Up in the air, Snape turned on his broomstick just in time to seesomething scarlet shoot past him,missing him by inches— the next second,Harryhadpulledoutofthedive,hisarmraisedintriumph,theSnitchclaspedinhishand.

Thestandserupted;ithadtobearecord,noonecouldeverremembertheSnitchbeingcaughtsoquickly.

“Ron!Ron!Where areyou?Thegame’sover!Harry’swon!We’vewon!Gryffindorisinthelead!”shriekedHermione,dancingupanddownonher

seatandhuggingParvatiPatilintherowinfront. Harry jumped off his broom, a foot from the ground. He couldn’t

believeit.He’ddoneit—thegamewasover;ithadbarelylastedfiveminutes.AsGryffindorscamespillingonto the field,hesawSnape landnearby,white-facedandtight-lipped—thenHarryfeltahandonhisshoulderandlookedupintoDumbledore’ssmilingface.

“Welldone,”saidDumbledorequietly,sothatonlyHarrycouldhear.“Nice to see you haven’t been brooding about that mirror...been keepingbusy...excellent...”

Snapespatbitterlyontheground.

Harryleftthelockerroomalonesometimelater,totakehisNimbusTwoThousandback to thebroomshed.Hecouldn’t ever remember feelinghappier.He’dreallydonesomethingtobeproudofnow–noonecouldsayhewasjustafamousnameanymore.Theeveningairhadneversmelledsosweet.Hewalkedoverthedampgrass,relivingthelasthourinhishead,whichwasahappyblur:Gryffindors running to lifthimonto their shoulders;RonandHermione in thedistance,jumpingupanddown,Roncheeringthroughaheavynosebleed.

Harryhadreached theshed.He leanedagainst thewoodendoorandlooked up at Hogwarts, with its windows glowing red in the setting sun.Gryffindorinthelead.He’ddoneit,he’dshownSnape....

AndspeakingofSnape…Ahoodedfigurecameswiftlydownthefrontstepsofthecastle.Clearly

notwantingtobeseen,itwalkedasfastaspossibletowardtheforbiddenforest.Harry’svictoryfadedfromhismindashewatched.Herecognizedthefigure’sprowlingwalk.Snape,sneakingintotheforestwhileeveryoneelsewasatdinner—whatwasgoingon?

HarryjumpedbackonhisNimbusTwoThousandandtookoff.GlidingsilentlyoverthecastlehesawSnapeentertheforestatarun.Hefollowed.

Thetreesweresothickhecouldn’tseewhereSnapehadgone.Heflewin circles, lower and lower, brushing the top branches of trees until he heardvoices.Heglidedtowardthemandlandednoiselesslyinatoweringbeechtree.

Heclimbedcarefullyalongoneof thebranches,holding tight tohisbroomstick,tryingtoseethroughtheleaves.

Below, in a shadowy clearing, stood Snape, but he wasn’t alone.Quirrellwasthere,too.Harrycouldn’tmakeoutthelookonhisface,buthewasstutteringworsethanever.Harrystrainedtocatchwhattheyweresaying.

“…d-don’t knowwhy you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places,Severus…”

“Oh, I thought we’d keep this private,” said Snape, his voice icy.“Studentsaren’tsupposedtoknowabouttheSorcerer’sStone,afterall.”

Harry leaned forward. Quirrell was mumbling something. Snapeinterruptedhim.

“HaveyoufoundouthowtogetpastthatbeastofHagrid’syet?”“B-b-butSeverus,I—”“Youdon’twantmeasyourenemy,Quirrell,”saidSnape,takingastep

towardhim.“I-Idon’tknowwhatyou—”“YouknowperfectlywellwhatImean.”Anowlhootedloudly,andHarrynearlyfelloutofthetree.Hesteadied

himself in time to hear Snape say, “— your little bit of hocus-pocus. I’mwaiting.”

“B-butId-d-don’t—”“Verywell,”Snapecutin.“We’llhaveanotherlittlechatsoon,when

you’vehadtimetothinkthingsoveranddecidedwhereyourloyaltieslie.”Hethrewhiscloakoverhisheadandstrodeoutoftheclearing.Itwas

almostdarknow,butHarrycouldseeQuirrell,standingquitestillasthoughhewaspetrified.

“Harry,wherehaveyoubeen?”Hermionesqueaked.“Wewon!Youwon!Wewon!”shoutedRon,thumpingHarryonthe

back.“AndIgaveMalfoyablackeye,andNevilletriedtotakeonCrabbeandGoyle single-handed!He’s still out coldbutMadamPomfrey sayshe’ll be allright—talkaboutshowingSlytherin!I’vewaitingforyouinthecommonroom,we’re having a party, Fred and George stole some cakes and stuff from thekitchens.”

“Nevermindthatnow,”saidHarrybreathlessly.“Let’sfindanemptyroom,youwait’tilyouhearthis....”

Hemade surePeeveswasn’t inside before shutting the door behindthem,thenhetoldthemwhathe’dseenandheard.

“Sowewereright,itistheSorcerer’sStone,andSnape’stryingtoforceQuirrelltohelphimgetit.HeaskedifheknewhowtogetpastFluffy—andhesaidsomethingaboutQuirrell’s‘hocuspocus’—Ireckonthereareotherthingsguarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, probably, andQuirrellwouldhavedonesomeanti-DarkArtsspell thatSnapeneeds tobreakthrough—”

“Soyoumean theStone’sonlysafeas longasQuirrell standsup toSnape?”saidHermioneinalarm.

“It’llbegonebynextTuesday,”saidRon.

HP1-HarryPotterandtheSorcerer'sStone

CHAPTERFOURTEEN

NORBERTTHENORWEGIANRIDGEBACK

Q uirrell, however, must have been braver than they’d thought. In theweeks that followed he did seem to be getting paler and thinner, but it didn’tlookasthoughhe’dcrackedyet.

Every time they passed the third-floor corridor, Harry, Ron, andHermione would press their ears to the door to check that Fluffy was stillgrowling inside. Snape was sweeping about in his usual bad temper, whichsurelymeantthattheStonewasstillsafe.WheneverHarrypassedQuirrellthesedays he gave him an encouraging sort of smile, and Ron had started tellingpeopleoffforlaughingatQuirrell’sstutter.

Hermione,however,hadmoreonhermindthantheSorcerer’sStone.Shehadstarteddrawingupstudyschedulesandcolorcodingallhernotes.HarryandRonwouldn’thaveminded,butshekeptnaggingthemtodothesame.

“Hermione,theexamsareagesaway.”“Tenweeks,”Hermionesnapped.“That’snotages,that’slikeasecond

toNicolasFlamel.” “Butwe’renotsixhundredyearsold,”Ronremindedher.“Anyway,

whatareyoustudyingfor,youalreadyknowit’sanA.”“WhatamIstudyingfor?Areyoucrazy?Yourealizeweneedtopass

theseexamstogetintothesecondyear?They’reveryimportant,Ishouldhavestartedstudyingamonthago,Idon’tknowwhat’sgottenintome.…”

Unfortunately,theteachersseemedtobethinkingalongthesamelinesasHermione.Theypiled somuchhomeworkon them that theEasterholidaysweren’t nearly as much fun as the Christmas ones. It was hard to relax withHermionenext toyou reciting the twelveusesofdragon’sbloodorpracticingwandmovements.Moaningandyawning,HarryandRonspentmostoftheirfreetimeinthelibrarywithher,tryingtogetthroughalltheirextrawork.

“I’llneverrememberthis,”Ronburstoutoneafternoon,throwingdownhisquillandlookinglonginglyoutofthelibrarywindow.Itwasthefirstreallyfine day they’d had inmonths. The sky was a clear, forget-me-not blue, andtherewasafeelingintheairofsummercoming.

Harry,whowaslookingup“Dittany”inOneThousandMagicalHerbsandFungi,didn’tlookupuntilheheardRonsay,“Hagrid!Whatareyoudoinginthelibrary?”

Hagridshuffledintoview,hidingsomethingbehindhisback.Helookedveryoutofplaceinhismoleskinovercoat.

“Jus’lookin’,”hesaid,inashiftyvoicethatgottheirinterestatonce.“An’ what’re you lot up ter?” He looked suddenly suspicious. “Yer not stilllookin’ferNicolasFlamel,areyeh?”

“Oh,wefoundoutwhoheisagesago,”saidRonimpressively.“Andweknowwhatthatdog’sguarding,it’saSorcerer’sSt—”

“Shhhh!”Hagridlookedaroundquicklytoseeifanyonewaslistening.“Don’goshoutin’aboutit,what’sthematterwithyeh?”

“Thereareafewthingswewantedtoaskyou,asamatteroffact,”saidHarry,“aboutwhat’sguardingtheStoneapartfromFluffy—”

“SHHHH!”saidHagridagain.“Listen—comean’seemelater,I’mnotpromisin’I’lltellyehanythin’,mind,butdon’gorabbitin’aboutitinhere,studentsaren’s’pposedterknow.They’llthinkI’vetoldyeh—”

“Seeyoulater,then,”saidHarry.Hagridshuffledoff.“Whatwashehidingbehindhisback?”saidHermionethoughtfully.“DoyouthinkithadanythingtodowiththeStone?”“I’mgoingtoseewhatsectionhewasin,”saidRon,who’dhadenough

ofworking.Hecamebackaminute laterwithapileofbooks inhisarmsandslammedthemdownonthetable.

“Dragons!”hewhispered.“Hagridwaslookingupstuffaboutdragons!Look at these: Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland; From Egg toInferno,ADragonKeeper’sGuide.”

“Hagrid’salwayswantedadragon,hetoldmesothefirsttimeIevermethim,“saidHarry.

“Butit’sagainstourlaws,”saidRon.“Dragonbreedingwasoutlawedby theWarlocks’Convention of 1709, everyone knows that. It’s hard to stopMuggles from noticing us if we’re keeping dragons in the back garden —anyway, you can’t tame dragons, it’s dangerous. You should see the burnsCharlie’sgotoffwildonesinRomania.”

“Buttherearen’twilddragonsinBritain?”saidHarry.“Ofcoursethereare,”saidRon.“CommonWelshGreenandHebridean

Blacks.TheMinistryofMagichasa jobhushing themup, Ican tellyou.OurkindhavetokeepputtingspellsonMuggleswho’vespottedthem,tomakethemforget.”

“Sowhatonearth’sHagridupto?”saidHermione.

Whentheyknockedonthedoorofthegamekeeper’shutanhourlater,they

weresurprisedtoseethatallthecurtainswereclosed.Hagridcalled“Whoisit?”beforeheletthemin,andthenshutthedoorquicklybehindthem.

Itwasstiflinghotinside.Eventhoughitwassuchawarmday,therewas a blazing fire in the grate.Hagridmade them tea and offered them stoatsandwiches,whichtheyrefused.

“So—yehwantedtoaskmesomethin’?” “Yes,”saidHarry.Therewasnopointbeatingaroundthebush.“We

werewonderingifyoucouldtelluswhat’sguardingtheSorcerer’sStoneapartfromFluffy.”

Hagridfrownedathim.“O’courseIcan’t,“hesaid.“Numberone,Idon’knowmeself.Number

two,yehknowtoomuchalready,soIwouldn’tellyehifIcould.ThatStone’shereferagoodreason.ItwasalmoststolenouttaGringotts—Is’pposeyeh’veworkedthatoutan’all?Beatsmehowyehevenknowabou’Fluffy.”

“Oh,comeon,Hagrid,youmightnotwanttotellus,butyoudoknow,you know everything that goes on round here,” said Hermione in a warm,flatteringvoice.Hagrid’sbeardtwitchedandtheycouldtellhewassmiling.“Weonly wondered who had done the guarding, really.” Hermione went on. “WewonderedwhoDumbledorehadtrustedenoughtohelphim,apartfromyou.”

Hagrid’schestswelledat theselastwords.HarryandRonbeamedatHermione.

“Well, I don’ s’pose it could hurt ter tell yeh that…let’s see…heborrowed Fluffy from me…then some o’ the teachers did enchantments…ProfessorSprout—ProfessorFlitwick—ProfessorMcGonagall—”hetickedthem off on his fingers, “Professor Quirrell — an’ Dumbledore himself didsomethin’, o’ course. Hang on, I’ve forgotten someone. Oh yeah, ProfessorSnape.”

“Snape?” “Yeah— yer not still on abou’ that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped

protecttheStone,he’snotaboutterstealit.” HarryknewRonandHermionewerethinkingthesameashewas.If

Snapehadbeen inonprotecting theStone, itmusthavebeeneasy to findouthowtheotherteachershadguardedit.Heprobablykneweverything—except,itseemed,Quirrell’sspellandhowtogetpastFluffy.

“You’re theonlyonewhoknowshowtogetpastFluffy.aren’tyou,Hagrid?”saidHarryanxiously.“Andyouwouldn’ttellanyone,wouldyou?Notevenoneoftheteachers?”

“Notasoulknowsexceptmean’Dumbledore,”saidHagridproudly.“Well,that’ssomething,”Harrymutteredtotheothers.“Hagrid,canwe

haveawindowopen?I’mboiling.”“Can’t,Harry,sorry,”saidHagrid.Harrynoticedhimglanceatthefire.

Harrylookedatit,too.“Hagrid—what’sthat?” But he already knew what it was. In the very heart of the fire,

underneaththekettle,wasahuge,blackegg.“Ah,”saidHagrid,fiddlingnervouslywithhisbeard,“That’s—er…”“Wheredidyougetit,Hagrid?”saidRon,crouchingoverthefiretoget

acloserlookattheegg.“Itmust’vecostyouafortune.”“Wonit,”saidHagrid.“Las’night.Iwasdowninthevillagehavin’a

fewdrinksan’gotintoagameo’cardswithastranger.Thinkhewasquitegladtergetridofit,terbehonest.”

“But what are you going to do with it when it’s hatched?” saidHermione.

“Well,I’vebindoin’somereadin’,”saidHagrid,pullingalargebookfrom under his pillow. “Got this outta the library — Dragon Breeding forPleasureandProfit—it’sabitouttadate,o’course,butit’sallinhere.Keeptheegg in the fire, ‘cause theirmothersbreatheonIem,see,an’when ithatches,feeditonabucketo’brandymixedwithchickenbloodeveryhalfhour.An’seehere— how ter recognize diff’rent eggs— what I got there’s a NorwegianRidgeback.They’rerare,them.”

Helookedverypleasedwithhimself,butHermionedidn’t.“Hagrid,youliveinawoodenhouse,”shesaid.ButHagridwasn’tlistening.Hewashummingmerrilyashestokedthe

fire.

So now they had something else to worry about: what might happen toHagridifanyonefoundouthewashidinganillegaldragoninhishut.

“Wonderwhatit’sliketohaveapeacefullife,”Ronsighed,aseveningaftereveningtheystruggledthroughall theextrahomeworktheyweregetting.Hermione had now startedmaking study schedules forHarry andRon, too. Itwasdrivingthemnuts.

Then, one breakfast time,Hedwig broughtHarry another note fromHagrid.Hehadwrittenonlytwowords:It’shatching.

Ron wanted to skip Herbology and go straight down to the hut.Hermionewouldn’thearofit.

“Hermione,howmanytimesinourlivesarewegoingtoseeadragonhatching?”

“We’vegotlessons,we’llgetintotrouble,andthat’snothingtowhat

Hagrid’sgoingtobeinwhensomeonefindsoutwhathe’sdoing—”“Shutup!”Harrywhispered. Malfoywasonlya fewfeetawayandhehadstoppeddead to listen.

Howmuchhadheheard?Harrydidn’tlikethelookonMalfoy’sfaceatall. RonandHermionearguedall theway toHerbologyand in theend,

Hermione agreed to run down toHagrid’swith the other two duringmorningbreak.Whenthebellsoundedfromthecastleattheendoftheirlesson,thethreeof them dropped their trowels at once and hurried through the grounds to theedgeoftheforest.Hagridgreetedthem,lookingflushedandexcited.

“It’snearlyout.”Heusheredtheminside.Theeggwaslyingonthetable.Thereweredeepcracksinit.Something

wasmovinginside;afunnyclickingnoisewascomingfromit.Theyalldrewtheirchairsuptothetableandwatchedwithbatedbreath.Allatoncetherewasascrapingnoiseandtheeggsplitopen.Thebaby

dragonfloppedontothetable.Itwasn’texactlypretty;Harrythoughtit lookedlike a crumpled, black umbrella. Its spiny wings were huge compared to itsskinny jetbody, it hada long snoutwithwidenostrils, the stubsofhornsandbulging,orangeeyes.

Itsneezed.Acoupleofsparksflewoutofitssnout. “Isn’t he beautiful?”Hagridmurmured. He reached out a hand to

strokethedragon’shead.Itsnappedathisfingers,showingpointedfangs.“Blesshim,look,heknowshismommy!”saidHagrid. “Hagrid,”saidHermione,“howfastdoNorwegianRidgebacksgrow,

exactly?”Hagridwasabouttoanswerwhenthecolorsuddenlydrainedfromhis

face—heleapttohisfeetandrantothewindow.“What’sthematter?”“Someonewaslookin’throughthegapinthecurtains—it’sakid—

he’srunnin’backuptertheschool.”Harryboltedtothedoorandlookedout.Evenatadistancetherewasno

mistakinghim.Malfoyhadseenthedragon.

SomethingaboutthesmilelurkingonMalfoy’sfaceduringthenextweekmadeHarry, Ron, andHermione very nervous. They spentmost of their freetimeinHagrid’sdarkenedhut,tryingtoreasonwithhim.

“Justlethimgo,”Harryurged.“Sethimfree.”“Ican’t,”saidHagrid.“He’stoolittle.He’ddie.”Theylookedatthedragon.Ithadgrownthreetimesinlengthinjusta

week. Smoke kept furling out of its nostrils. Hagrid hadn’t been doing hisgamekeepingdutiesbecause thedragonwaskeepinghimsobusy.Therewereemptybrandybottlesandchickenfeathersalloverthefloor.

“I’vedecidedtocallhimNorbert,”saidHagrid,lookingatthedragonwithmistyeyes.“Hereallyknowsmenow,watch.Norbert!Norbert!Where’sMommy?”

“He’slosthismarbles,”RonmutteredinHarry’sear.“Hagrid,”saidHarryloudly,“giveittwoweeksandNorbert’sgoingto

beaslongasyourhouse.MalfoycouldgotoDumbledoreatanymoment.”Hagridbithislip. “I—Iknow I can’tkeephim forever,but I can’t jus’dumphim, I

can’t.”HarrysuddenlyturnedtoRon.“Charlie.”hesaid.“You’relosingit,too,”saidRon.“I’mRon,remember?”“No—Charlie—yourbrother,Charlie.InRomania.Studyingdragons.

WecouldsendNorbert tohim.Charliecan takecareofhimand thenputhimbackinthewild!”

“Brilliant!”saidRon.“Howaboutit,Hagrid?”Andintheend,HagridagreedthattheycouldsendanowltoCharlieto

askhim.

The following week dragged by. Wednesday night found Hermione andHarrysittingalone in thecommonroom, longaftereveryoneelsehadgone tobed.Theclockonthewallhadjustchimedmidnightwhentheportraitholeburstopen.RonappearedoutofnowhereashepulledoffHarry’s invisibilitycloak.He had been down at Hagrid’s hut, helping him feed Norbert, who was noweatingdeadratsbythecrate.

“Itbitme!”hesaid,showingthemhishand,whichwaswrappedinabloodyhandkerchief.“I’mnotgoingtobeabletoholdaquillforaweek.Itellyou, thatdragon’s themosthorribleanimal I’veevermet,but thewayHagridgoesonaboutit,you’dthinkitwasafluffylittlebunnyrabbit.Whenitbitmehetoldmeoffforfrighteningit.AndwhenIleft,hewassingingitalullaby.”

Therewasataponthedarkwindow.“It’sHedwig!”saidHarry,hurryingtoletherin.“She’llhaveCharlie’s

answer!”Thethreeofthemputtheirheadstogethertoreadthenote.DearRon,

Howareyou?Thanks for the letter—I’dbeglad to take theNorwegianRidgeback,butitwon’tbeeasygettinghimhere.Ithinkthebestthingwillbetosendhimoverwithsomefriendsofminewhoarecomingtovisitmenextweek.Troubleis,theymustn’tbeseencarryinganillegaldragon.

CouldyougettheRidgebackupthetallesttoweratmidnightonSaturday?Theycanmeetyouthereandtakehimawaywhileit’sstilldark.

Sendmeananswerassoonaspossible.

Love,Charlie

Theylookedatoneanother. “We’ve got the invisibility cloak,” saidHarry. “It shouldn’t be too

difficult–IthinkthecloaksbigenoughtocovertwoofusandNorbert.” Itwasamarkofhowbad the lastweekhadbeen that theother two

agreedwithhim.AnythingtogetridofNorbert—andMalfoy.

Therewasahitch.Bythenextmorning,Ron’sbittenhandhadswollentotwice its usual size. He didn’t know whether it was safe to go to MadamPomfrey—wouldsherecognizeadragonbite?Bytheafternoon,though,hehadnochoice.Thecuthadturnedanastyshadeofgreen.It lookedasifNorbert’sfangswerepoisonous.

HarryandHermionerusheduptothehospitalwingattheendofthedaytofindRoninaterriblestateinbed.

“It’s not justmy hand,” hewhispered, “although that feels like it’sabouttofalloff.MalfoytoldMadamPomfreyhewantedtoborrowoneofmybookssohecouldcomeandhaveagoodlaughatme.Hekeptthreateningtotellherwhatreallybitme—I’vetoldheritwasadog,butIdon’tthinkshebelievesme—I shouldn’thavehit himat theQuidditchmatch, that’swhyhe’sdoingthis.”

HarryandHermionetriedtocalmRondown. “It’ll all be over atmidnight on Saturday,” saidHermione, but this

didn’t sootheRon at all.On the contrary, he sat bolt upright andbroke into asweat.

“MidnightonSaturday!”hesaid inahoarsevoice.“Ohnoohno—I’ve just remembered— Charlie’s letter was in that bookMalfoy took, he’sgoingtoknowwe’regettingridofNorbert.”

HarryandHermionedidn’tgetachancetoanswer.MadamPomfreycameoveratthatmomentandmadethemleave,sayingRonneededsleep.

“It’stoolatetochangetheplannow,”HarrytoldHermione.“Wehaven’tgottimetosendCharlieanotherowl,andthiscouldbeouronlychancetogetridofNorbert.We’llhavetoriskit.Andwehavegottheinvisibilitycloak,Malfoydoesn’tknowaboutthat.”

TheyfoundFang,theboarhound,sittingoutsidewithabandagedtailwhentheywenttotellHagrid,whoopenedawindowtotalktothem.

“Iwon’tletyouin,”hepuffed.“Norbert’satatrickystage—nothin’Ican’thandle.”

When they toldhimaboutCharlie’s letter,hiseyes filledwith tears,althoughthatmighthavebeenbecauseNorberthadjustbittenhimontheleg.

“Aargh!It’sallright,heonlygotmyboot—jus’playin’—he’sonlyababy,afterall.”

Thebabybangeditstailonthewall,makingthewindowsrattle.HarryandHermionewalkedbacktothecastlefeelingSaturdaycouldn’tcomequicklyenough.

TheywouldhavefeltsorryforHagridwhenthetimecameforhimtosaygood-byetoNorbertiftheyhadn’tbeensoworriedaboutwhattheyhadtodo.Itwasaverydark,cloudynight,andtheywereabitlatearrivingatHagrid’shutbecausethey’dhadtowaitforPeevestogetoutoftheirwayintheentrancehall,wherehe’dbeenplayingtennisagainstthewall.HagridhadNorbertpackedandreadyinalargecrate.

“He’sgotlotso’ratsan’somebrandyferthejourney,”saidHagridinamuffledvoice.“An’I’vepackedhisteddybearincasehegetslonely.”

From inside the crate came ripping noises that sounded toHarry asthoughtheteddywashavinghisheadtornoff.

“Bye-bye,Norbert!”Hagridsobbed,asHarryandHermionecoveredthe crate with the invisibility cloak and stepped underneath it themselves.“Mommywillneverforgetyou!”

Howtheymanaged toget thecratebackup to thecastle, theyneverknew.MidnighttickednearerastheyheavedNorbertupthemarblestaircaseintheentrancehallandalongthedarkcorridors.UPanotherstaircase,thenanother–evenoneofHarry’sshortcutsdidn’tmaketheworkmucheasier.

“Nearlythere!”Harrypantedastheyreachedthecorridorbeneaththetallesttower.

Thenasuddenmovementaheadof themmade themalmostdrop thecrate.Forgettingthattheywerealreadyinvisible,theyshrankintotheshadows,staring at the dark outlines of two people grappling with each other ten feet

away.Alampflared.ProfessorMcGonagall,inatartanbathrobeandahairnet,hadMalfoy

bytheear. “Detention!” she shouted. “And twenty points from Slytherin!

Wanderingaroundinthemiddleofthenight,howdareyou—”“Youdon’tunderstand,Professor.HarryPotter’scoming—he’sgota

dragon!”“Whatutterrubbish!Howdareyoutellsuchlies!Comeon—Ishall

seeProfessorSnapeaboutyou,Malfoy!”Thesteepspiralstaircaseuptothetopofthetowerseemedtheeasiest

thingintheworldafterthat.Notuntilthey’dsteppedoutintothecoldnightairdidtheythrowoffthecloak,gladtobeabletobreatheproperlyagain.Hermionedidasortofjig.

“Malfoy’sgotdetention!Icouldsing!”“Don’t,”Harryadvisedher. ChucklingaboutMalfoy, theywaited,Norbert thrashingabout inhis

crate.Abouttenminuteslater,fourbroomstickscameswoopingdownoutofthedarkness.

Charlie’sfriendswereacheerylot.TheyshowedHarryandHermionetheharnessthey’driggedup,sotheycouldsuspendNorbertbetweenthem.Theyall helped buckle Norbert safely into it and then Harry and Hermione shookhandswiththeothersandthankedthemverymuch.

Atlast,Norbertwasgoing…going…gone.Theyslippedbackdownthespiralstaircase,theirheartsaslightastheir

hands,nowthatNorbertwasoffthem.Nomoredragon—Malfoyindetention—whatcouldspoiltheirhappiness?

Theanswertothatwaswaitingatthefootofthestairs.Astheysteppedintothecorridor,Filch’sfaceloomedsuddenlyoutofthedarkness.

“Well,well,well,”hewhispered,“weareintrouble.”They’dlefttheinvisibilitycloakontopofthetower.

HP1-HarryPotterandtheSorcerer'sStone

CHAPTERFIFTEEN

THEFORBIDDENFOREST

Thingscouldn’thavebeenworse. Filch took themdown to ProfessorMcGonagall’s study on the first

floor,wheretheysatandwaitedwithoutsayingawordtoeachother.Hermionewas trembling. Excuses, alibis, and wild cover- up stories chased each otheraroundHarry’sbrain,eachmorefeeblethanthelast.Hecouldn’tseehowtheyweregoingtogetoutoftroublethistime.Theywerecornered.Howcouldtheyhavebeen so stupid as to forget the cloak?Therewasno reasonon earth thatProfessor McGonagall would accept for their being out of bed and creepingaroundtheschoolinthedeadofnight,letalonebeingupthetallestastronomytower, which was out-of-bounds except for classes. Add Norbert and theinvisibilitycloak,andtheymightaswellbepackingtheirbagsalready.

Had Harry thought that things couldn’t have been worse? He waswrong.WhenProfessorMcGonagallappeared,shewasleadingNeville.

“Harry!”Nevilleburstout, themomenthesawtheothertwo.“Iwastryingtofindyoutowarnyou,IheardMalfoysayinghewasgoingtocatchyou,hesaidyouhadadrag—”

Harry shook his head violently to shut Neville up, but ProfessorMcGonagallhadseen.ShelookedmorelikelytobreathefirethanNorbertasshetoweredoverthethreeofthem.

“Iwouldneverhavebelieveditofanyofyou.Mr.Filchsaysyouwereupintheastronomytower.It’soneo’clockinthemorning.Explainyourselves.”

Itwas the first timeHermionehadever failed to answera teacher’squestion.Shewasstaringatherslippers,asstillasastatue.

“IthinkI’vegotagoodideaofwhat’sbeengoingon,”saidProfessorMcGonagall. “It doesn’t take a genius towork it out. You fedDracoMalfoysomecock-and-bullstoryaboutadragon,tryingtogethimoutofbedandintotrouble.I’vealreadycaughthim.Isupposeyouthinkit’sfunnythatLongbottomhereheardthestoryandbelievedit,too?”

HarrycaughtNeville’seyeandtriedtotellhimwithoutwordsthatthiswasn’t true, because Neville was looking stunned and hurt. Poor, blunderingNeville—Harryknewwhat itmusthavecosthimto tryandfind themin thedark,towarnthem.

“I’mdisgusted,”saidProfessorMcGonagall.“Fourstudentsoutofbed

in one night! I’ve never heard of such a thing before! You,Miss Granger, Ithoughtyouhadmoresense.Asforyou,Mr.Potter,IthoughtGryffindormeantmoretoyouthanthis.Allthreeofyouwillreceivedetentions—yes,youtoo,Mr. Longbottom, nothing gives you the right to walk around school at night,especiallythesedays,it’sverydangerous—andfiftypointswillbetakenfromGryffindor.”

“Fifty?”Harrygasped—theywouldlosethelead,theleadhe’dwoninthelastQuidditchmatch.

“Fifty points each,” said Professor McGonagall, breathing heavilythroughherlong,pointednose.

“Professor—please—”“Youcan’t—”“Don’ttellmewhatIcanandcan’tdo,Potter.Nowgetbacktobed,all

ofyou.I’veneverbeenmoreashamedofGryffindorstudents.”Ahundredandfiftypointslost.ThatputGryffindorinlastplace.Inone

night,they’druinedanychanceGryffindorhadhadforthehousecup.Harryfeltas though the bottom had dropped out of his stomach. How could they evermakeupforthis?

Harry didn’t sleep all night.He could hearNeville sobbing into hispillow forwhat seemed like hours.Harry couldn’t thinkof anything to say tocomfort him. He knew Neville, like himself, was dreading the dawn. WhatwouldhappenwhentherestofGryffindorfoundoutwhatthey’ddone?

Atfirst,Gryffindorspassing thegianthourglasses thatrecordedthehousepoints the next day thought there’d been amistake.Howcould they suddenlyhaveahundredandfiftypointsfewerthanyesterday?Andthenthestorystartedto spread:Harry Potter, the famousHarry Potter, their hero of twoQuidditchmatches, had lost themall thosepoints, himanda coupleof other stupid firstyears.

Frombeingoneofthemostpopularandadmiredpeopleattheschool,Harrywassuddenlythemosthated.EvenRavenclawsandHufflepuffsturnedonhim, because everyone had been longing to see Slytherin lose the house cup.EverywhereHarrywent,peoplepointedanddidn’ttroubletolowertheirvoicesas they insultedhim.Slytherins, on theotherhand, clappedashewalkedpastthem,whistlingandcheering,“ThanksPotter,weoweyouone!”

OnlyRonstoodbyhim.“They’llallforgetthisinafewweeks.FredandGeorgehavelostloads

ofpointsinallthetimethey’vebeenhere,andpeoplestilllikethem.”“They’veneverlostahundredandfiftypointsinonego,though,have

they?”saidHarrymiserably.“Well—no,”Ronadmitted.Itwasabitlatetorepairthedamage,butHarrysworetohimselfnotto

meddle in things that weren’t his business from now on. He’d had it withsneaking around and spying. He felt so ashamed of himself that he went toWoodandofferedtoresignfromtheQuidditchteam.

“Resign?”Woodthundered.“Whatgood’llthatdo?Howarewegoingtogetanypointsbackifwecan’twinatQuidditch?”

ButevenQuidditchhadlostitsfun.Therestoftheteamwouldn’tspeaktoHarry during practice, and if they had to speak about him, they called him“theSeeker.”

HermioneandNevilleweresuffering,too.Theydidn’thaveasbadatimeasHarry,becausetheyweren’taswell-known,butnobodywouldspeaktothem,either.Hermionehadstoppeddrawingattentiontoherselfinclass,keepingherheaddownandworkinginsilence.

Harry was almost glad that the exams weren’t far away. All thestudyinghehadtodokepthismindoffhismisery.He,Ron,andHermionekepttothemselves,workinglateintothenight,tryingtoremembertheingredientsincomplicated potions, learn charms and spells by heart,memorize the dates ofmagicaldiscoveriesandgoblinrebellions....

Then,aboutaweekbefore theexamsweredue tostart,Harry’snewresolution not to interfere in anything that didn’t concern him was put to anunexpected test.Walking back from the library on his own one afternoon, heheardsomebodywhimperingfromaclassroomupahead.Ashedrewcloser,heheardQuirrell’svoice.

“No—no—notagain,please—” It sounded as though someone was threatening him. Harry moved

closer.“Allright—allright—”heheardQuirrellsob.Nextsecond,Quirrellcamehurryingoutoftheclassroomstraightening

histurban.Hewaspaleandlookedasthoughhewasabouttocry.Hestrodeoutof sight; Harry didn’t think Quirrell had even noticed him. He waited untilQuirrell’s footsteps had disappeared, then peered into the classroom. It wasempty,butadoorstoodajarattheotherend.Harrywashalfwaytowarditbeforeherememberedwhathe’dpromisedhimselfaboutnotmeddling.

Allthesame,he’dhavegambledtwelveSorcerer’sStonesthatSnapehad just left the room, and fromwhat Harry had just heard, Snapewould bewalkingwithanewspringinhisstep—Quirrellseemedtohavegiveninatlast.

Harrywentback to the library,whereHermionewas testingRonon

Astronomy.Harrytoldthemwhathe’dheard.“Snape’sdoneit,then!”saidRon.“IfQuirrell’stoldhimhowtobreak

hisAnti-DarkForcespell—”“There’sstillFluffy,though,”saidHermione.“MaybeSnape’sfoundouthowtogetpasthimwithoutaskingHagrid,”

saidRon,lookingupatthethousandsofbookssurroundingthem.“Ibetthere’sabooksomewhereinheretellingyouhowtogetpastagiantthree-headeddog.Sowhatdowedo,Harry?”

ThelightofadventurewaskindlingagaininRon’seyes,butHermioneansweredbeforeHarrycould.

“GotoDumbledore.That’swhatweshouldhavedoneagesago.Ifwetryanythingourselveswe’llbethrownoutforsure.”

“Butwe’vegotnoproof!”saidHarry.“Quirrell’stooscaredtobackusup.Snape’sonlygottosayhedoesn’tknowhowthetrollgotinatHalloweenandthathewasnowherenearthethirdfloor—whodoyouthinkthey’llbelieve,himorus?It’snotexactlyasecretwehatehim,Dumbledore’llthinkwemadeituptogethimsacked.Filchwouldn’thelpusifhislifedependedonit,he’stoofriendlywithSnape,andthemorestudentsgetthrownout,thebetter,he’llthink.Anddon’tforget,we’renotsupposedtoknowabouttheStoneorFluffy.That’lltakealotofexplaining.”

Hermionelookedconvinced,butRondidn’t.“Ifwejustdoabitofpokingaround—”“No,”saidHarryflatly,“we’vedoneenoughpokingaround.”HepulledamapofJupitertowardhimandstartedtolearnthenamesof

itsmoons.

The following morning, notes were delivered to Harry, Hermione, andNevilleatthebreakfasttable.Theywereallthesame:

Yourdetentionwilltakeplaceateleveno’clocktonight.MeetMr.Filchintheentrancehall.

ProfessorMcGonagall

Harry had forgotten they still had detentions to do in the furor over thepointsthey’dlost.HehalfexpectedHermionetocomplainthatthiswasawholenight of studying lost, but she didn’t say a word. Like Harry, she felt theydeservedwhatthey’dgot.

Ateleveno’clockthatnight,theysaidgood-byetoRoninthecommonroomandwentdowntotheentrancehallwithNeville.Filchwasalreadythere

— and so was Malfoy. Harry had also forgotten that Malfoy had gotten adetention,too.

“Followme,”saidFilch,lightingalampandleadingthemoutside.“Ibetyou’llthinktwiceaboutbreakingaschoolruleagain,won’tyou,

eh?”hesaid,leeringatthem.“Ohyes…hardworkandpainarethebestteachersifyouaskme….It’sjustapitytheylettheoldpunishmentsdieout…hangyoubyyourwrists from the ceiling for a fewdays, I’vegot the chains still inmyoffice,keep‘emwelloiledincasethey’reeverneeded…Right,offwego,anddon’tthinkofrunningoff,now,it’llbeworseforyouifyoudo.”

Theymarchedoffacrossthedarkgrounds.Nevillekeptsniffing.Harrywonderedwhat theirpunishmentwasgoing tobe. Itmustbe something reallyhorrible,orFilchwouldn’tbesoundingsodelighted.

Themoonwasbright,butcloudsscuddingacrossitkeptthrowingtheminto darkness. Ahead, Harry could see the lighted windows of Hagrid’s hut.Thentheyheardadistantshout.

“Isthatyou,Filch?Hurryup,Iwanttergetstarted.” Harry’s heart rose; if theyweregoing to beworkingwithHagrid it

wouldn’tbesobad.Hisreliefmusthaveshowedinhisface,becauseFilchsaid,“I suppose you think you’ll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, thinkagain,boy—it’sintotheforestyou’regoingandI’mmuchmistakenifyou’llallcomeoutinonepiece.”

At this,Neville letouta littlemoan,andMalfoystoppeddeadinhistracks.

“Theforest?”herepeated,andhedidn’tsoundquiteascoolasusual.“We can’t go in there at night — there’s all sorts of things in there —werewolves,Iheard.”

NevilleclutchedthesleeveofHarry’srobeandmadeachokingnoise.“That’syourproblem,isn’tit?”saidFilch,hisvoicecrackingwithglee.

“Should’ve thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn’tyou?”

Hagridcamestridingtowardthemoutofthedark,Fangathisheel.Hewascarryinghislargecrossbow,andaquiverofarrowshungoverhisshoulder.

“Abou’time,”hesaid.“Ibinwaitin’ferhalfanhouralready.Allright,Harry,Hermione?”

“Ishouldn’tbetoofriendlytothem,Hagrid,”saidFilchcoldly,they’reheretobepunished,afterall.”

“That’s why yer late, is it?” said Hagrid, frowning at Filch. “Binlecturin’ them, eh? ‘Snotyourplace ter do that.Yeh’vedoneyerbit, I’ll takeoverfromhere.”

“I’llbebackatdawn,”saidFilch,“forwhat’sleftofthem,”headdednastily,andheturnedandstartedbacktowardthecastle,hislampbobbingawayinthedarkness.

MalfoynowturnedtoHagrid.“I’mnotgoinginthatforest,”hesaid,andHarrywaspleasedtohear

thenoteofpanicinhisvoice. “Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts,” said Hagrid fiercely.

“Yeh’vedonewrongan’nowyeh’vegotterpayferit.”“Butthisisservantstuff,it’snotforstudentstodo.Ithoughtwe’dbe

copyinglinesorsomething,ifmyfatherknewIwasdoingthis,he’d—” “—tell yer that’s how it is atHogwarts,”Hagridgrowled. “Copyin’

lines!Whatgood’sthatteranyone?Yeh’lldosummatusefuloryeh’llgetout.Ifyehthinkyerfather’dratheryouwereexpelled,thengetbackoffterthecastlean’pack.Goon.”

Malfoydidn’tmove.HelookedatHagridfuriously,butthendroppedhisgaze.

“Rightthen,”saidHagrid,“now,listencarefully,‘causeit’sdangerouswhatwe’re gonna do tonight, an’ I don’want no one takin’ risks. Followmeoverhereamoment.”

Heledthemtotheveryedgeoftheforest.Holdinghislampuphigh,hepointeddownanarrow,windingearthtrackthatdisappearedintothethickblacktrees.Alightbreezeliftedtheirhairastheylookedintotheforest.

“Lookthere,”saidHagrid,“seethatstuffshinin’ontheground?Silverystuff? That’s unicorn blood. There’s a unicorn in there bin hurt badly bysummat.This is thesecond time inaweek. I foundonedead lastWednesday.We’re gonna try an’ find the poor thing.Wemight have ter put it out of itsmisery.”

“Andwhat ifwhateverhurt theunicorn findsus first?”saidMalfoy,unabletokeepthefearoutofhisvoice.

“There’snothin’thatlivesintheforestthat’llhurtyehifyerwithmeorFang,”saidHagrid.“An’keepterthepath.Right,now,we’regonnasplitintertwopartiesan’followthetrailindiff’rentdirections.There’sbloodallovertheplace,itmust’vebinstaggerin’aroundsincelastnightatleast.”

“IwantFang,”saidMalfoyquickly,lookingatFang’slongteeth.“Allright,butIwarnyeh,he’sacoward,”saidHagrid.“Some,Harry,

an’Hermione’llgoonewayan’Draco,Neville,an’Fang’llgotheother.Now,ifanyofusfindstheunicorn,we’llsendupgreensparks,right?Getyerwandsoutan’practicenow—that’sit—an’ifanyonegetsintrouble,sendupredsparks,an’we’llallcomean’findyeh—so,becareful—let’sgo.”

Theforestwasblackandsilent.Alittlewayintoittheyreachedaforkin the earth path, and Harry, Hermione, and Hagrid took the left path whileMalfoy,Neville,andFangtooktheright.

Theywalkedinsilence,theireyesontheground.Everynowandthenarayofmoonlight through thebranchesabove lit a spotof silver-bluebloodonthefallenleaves.

HarrysawthatHagridlookedveryworried.“Couldawerewolfbekillingtheunicorns?”Harryasked. “Not fast enough,” said Hagrid. “It’s not easy ter catch a unicorn,

they’repowerfulmagiccreatures.Ineverknewoneterbehurtbefore.”Theywalkedpastamossytreestump.Harrycouldhearrunningwater;

theremust be a stream somewhere close by.Therewere still spots of unicornbloodhereandtherealongthewindingpath.

“Youallright,Hermione?”Hagridwhispered.“Don’worry,itcan’t’vegone far if it’s this badly hurt, an’ then we’ll be able ter— GET BEHINDTHATTREE!”

HagridseizedHarryandHermioneandhoistedthemoffthepathbehindatoweringoak.Hepulledoutanarrowandfitteditintohiscrossbow,raisingit,ready to fire. The three of them listened. Somethingwas slithering over deadleaves nearby: it sounded like a cloak trailing along the ground. Hagrid wassquintingupthedarkpath,butafterafewseconds,thesoundfadedaway.

“Iknewit,”hemurmured.“There’ssummatinherethatshouldn’be.”“Awerewolf?”Harrysuggested.“Thatwasn’nowerewolfan’itwasn’nounicorn,neither,”saidHagrid

grimly.“Right,followme,butcareful,now.” They walked more slowly, ears straining for the faintest sound.

Suddenly,inaclearingahead,somethingdefinitelymoved.“Who’sthere?”Hagridcalled.“Showyerself—I’marmed!”Andintotheclearingcame—wasitaman,orahorse?Tothewaist,a

man,with redhair andbeard, but below thatwas ahorse’s gleaming chestnutbodywithalong,reddishtail.HarryandHermione’sjawsdropped.

“Oh,it’syou,Ronan,”saidHagridinrelief.“Howareyeh?”Hewalkedforwardandshookthecentaur’shand.“Goodeveningtoyou,Hagrid,”saidRonan.Hehadadeep,sorrowful

voice.“Wereyougoingtoshootme?” “Can’t be too careful, Ronan,” said Hagrid, patting his crossbow.

“There’s summat bad loose in this forest. This is Harry Potter an’ HermioneGranger,bytheway.Studentsupattheschool.An’thisisRonan,youtwo.He’sacentaur.

“We’dnoticed,”saidHermionefaintly. “Goodevening,” saidRonan. “Students, areyou?Anddoyou learn

much,upattheschool?”“Erm—”“Abit,”saidHermionetimidly.“Abit.Well,that’ssomething.”Ronansighed.Heflungbackhishead

andstaredatthesky.“Marsisbrighttonight.”“Yeah,”saidHagrid,glancingup,too.“Listen,I’mgladwe’veruninter

yeh,Ronan,‘causethere’saunicornbinhurt—youseenanythin’?”Ronandidn’tanswerimmediately.Hestaredunblinkinglyupward,then

sighedagain.“Alwaystheinnocentarethefirstvictims,”hesaid.“Soithasbeenfor

agespast,soitisnow.” “Yeah,” saidHagrid, “but have yeh seen anythin’Ronan?Anythin’

unusual?” “Mars isbright tonight,”Ronanrepeated,whileHagridwatchedhim

impatiently.“Unusuallybright.” “Yeah, but Iwasmeanin’ anythin’ unusual a bit nearer home, said

Hagrid.“Soyehhaven’tnoticedanythin’strange?”Yetagain,Ronantookawhiletoanswer.Atlast,hesaid,“Theforest

hidesmanysecrets.” Amovement in the trees behindRonanmadeHagrid raise his bow

again, but itwas only a second centaur, black-haired and -bodied andwilder-lookingthanRonan.

“Hullo,Bane,”saidHagrid.“Allright?”“Goodevening,Hagrid,Ihopeyouarewell?”“Wellenough.Look,I’vejus’binaskin’Ronan,youseenanythin’odd

inherelately?There’saunicornbininjured—wouldyehknowanythin’aboutit?”

BanewalkedovertostandnexttoRonan.Helookedskyward.“Marsisbrighttonight,”hesaidsimply.

“We’veheard,”saidHagridgrumpily.“Well, ifeitherofyoudoseeanythin’,letmeknow,won’tyeh?We’llbeoff,then.”

HarryandHermionefollowedhimoutoftheclearing,staringovertheirshouldersatRonanandBaneuntilthetreesblockedtheirview.

“Never,”saidHagrid irritably,“tryan’getastraightansweroutofacentaur.Ruddystargazers.Notinterestedinanythin’closer’nthemoon.”

“Aretheremanyoftheminhere?”askedHermione. “Oh,afair few….Keepthemselves to themselvesmostly,but they’re

good enough about turnin’ up if ever I want a word. They’re deep, mind,centaurs…theyknowthings…jus’don’letonmuch.”

“D’youthinkthatwasacentaurweheardearlier?”saidHarry.“Didthatsoundlikehoovestoyou?Nah,ifyehaskme,thatwaswhat’s

binkillin’theunicorns–neverheardanythin’likeitbefore.” They walked on through the dense, dark trees. Harry kept looking

nervouslyoverhisshoulder.Hehadthenastyfeelingtheywerebeingwatched.Hewasveryglad theyhadHagridandhiscrossbowwith them.Theyhad justpassedabendinthepathwhenHermionegrabbedHagrid’sarm.

“Hagrid!Look!Redsparks,theothersareintrouble!”“Youtwowaithere!”Hagridshouted.“Stayonthepath,I’llcomeback

foryeh!” They heard him crashing away through the undergrowth and stood

looking at each other, very scared, until they couldn’t hear anything but therustlingofleavesaroundthem.

“Youdon’tthinkthey’vebeenhurt,doyou?”whisperedHermione. “Idon’t care ifMalfoyhas,but if something’sgotNeville…it’sour

faulthe’shereinthefirstplace.”Theminutesdraggedby.Theirearsseemedsharperthanusual.Harry’s

seemedtobepickingupeverysighofthewind,everycrackingtwig.Whatwasgoingon?Whereweretheothers?

At last, a great crunchingnoise announcedHagrid’s return.Malfoy,Neville, andFangwerewithhim.Hagridwas fuming.Malfoy, it seemed,hadsneakedupbehindNevilleandgrabbedhimasajoke.Nevillehadpanickedandsentupthesparks.

“We’llbeluckytercatchanythin’now,withtheracketyoutwoweremakin’. Right, we’re changin’ groups — Neville, you stay with me an’Hermione,Harry,yougowithFangan’thisidiot.I’msorry,”HagridaddedinawhispertoHarry,“buthe’llhaveahardertimefrightenin’you,an’we’vegottagetthisdone.”

SoHarrysetoffintotheheartoftheforestwithMalfoyandFang.Theywalkedfornearlyhalfanhour,deeperanddeeperintotheforest,untilthepathbecame almost impossible to follow because the trees were so thick. Harrythoughtthebloodseemedtobegettingthicker.Thereweresplashesontherootsofatree,asthoughthepoorcreaturehadbeenthrashingaroundinpaincloseby.Harry could see a clearing ahead, through the tangled branches of an ancientoak.

“Look—”hemurmured,holdingouthisarmtostopMalfoy. Something bright white was gleaming on the ground. They inched

closer. Itwas the unicorn all right, and itwas dead.Harry had never seen

anythingsobeautifulandsad.Itslong,slenderlegswerestuckoutatoddangleswhereithadfallenanditsmanewasspreadpearly-whiteonthedarkleaves.

Harryhadtakenonesteptowarditwhenaslitheringsoundmadehimfreezewherehestood.Abushontheedgeoftheclearingquivered.…Then,outof the shadows, a hooded figure came crawling across the ground like somestalking beast. Harry, Malfoy, and Fang stood transfixed. The cloaked figurereachedtheunicorn,lowereditsheadoverthewoundintheanimal’sside,andbegantodrinkitsblood.

“AAAAAAAAAARGH!”Malfoyletoutaterriblescreamandbolted—sodidFang.Thehooded

figureraiseditsheadandlookedrightatHarry—unicornbloodwasdribblingdown its front. Itgot to its feetandcameswiftly towardHarry—hecouldn’tmoveforfear.

Then a pain like he’d never felt before pierced his head; it was asthough his scar were on fire. Half blinded, he staggered backward. He heardhoovesbehindhim,galloping,andsomethingjumpedcleanoverHarry,chargingatthefigure.

The pain inHarry’s headwas so bad he fell to his knees. It took aminuteortwotopass.Whenhelookedup,thefigurehadgone.Acentaurwasstandingoverhim,notRonanorBane;thisonelookedyounger;hehadwhite-blondhairandapalominobody.

“Areyouallright?”saidthecentaur,pullingHarrytohisfeet.“Yes—thankyou—whatwasthat?” Thecentaurdidn’tanswer.Hehadastonishinglyblueeyes, likepale

sapphires.HelookedcarefullyatHarry,hiseyeslingeringonthescarthatstoodout,livid,onHarry’sforehead.

“YouarethePotterboy,”hesaid.“YouhadbettergetbacktoHagrid.Theforestisnotsafeatthistime—especiallyforyou.Canyouride?Itwillbequickerthisway.

“MynameisFirenze,”headded,asheloweredhimselfontohisfrontlegssothatHarrycouldclamberontohisback.

Therewassuddenlyasoundofmoregallopingfromtheothersideofthe clearing. Ronan and Bane came bursting through the trees, their flanksheavingandsweaty.

“Firenze!”Banethundered.“Whatareyoudoing?Youhaveahumanonyourback!Haveyounoshame?Areyouacommonmule?”

“Doyourealizewhothisis?”saidFirenze.“ThisisthePotterboy.The

quickerheleavesthisforest,thebetter.” “What have you been telling him?” growled Bane. “Remember,

Firenze,weareswornnottosetourselvesagainsttheheavens.Havewenotreadwhatistocomeinthemovementsoftheplanets?”

Ronanpawedthegroundnervously.“I’msureFirenzethoughthewasactingforthebest,“hesaidinhisgloomyvoice.

Banekickedhisbacklegsinanger.“Forthebest!Whatisthattodowithus?Centaursareconcernedwith

whathasbeen foretold! It isnotourbusiness to runaround likedonkeysafterstrayhumansinourforest!”

Firenzesuddenlyrearedontohishindlegsinanger,sothatHarryhadtograbhisshoulderstostayon.

“Doyounotseethatunicorn?”FirenzebellowedatBane.“Doyounotunderstandwhyitwaskilled?Orhavetheplanetsnotletyouinonthatsecret?Iset myself against what is lurking in this forest, Bane, yes, with humansalongsidemeifImust.”

AndFirenzewhiskedaround;withHarryclutchingonasbesthecould,theyplungedoffintothetrees,leavingRonanandBanebehindthem.

Harrydidn’thaveacluewhatwasgoingon.“Why’sBanesoangry?”heasked.“Whatwasthatthingyousavedme

from,anyway?”Firenzeslowedtoawalk,warnedHarrytokeephisheadbowedincase

oflow-hangingbranches,butdidnotanswerHarry’squestion.Theymadetheirway through the trees in silence for so long thatHarry thoughtFirenze didn’twant to talk to him anymore. Theywere passing through a particularly densepatchoftrees,however,whenFirenzesuddenlystopped.

“HarryPotter,doyouknowwhatunicornbloodisusedfor?” “No,”saidHarry,startledbytheoddquestion.“We’veonlyusedthe

hornandtailhairinPotions.”“Thatisbecauseitisamonstrousthing,toslayaunicorn,”saidFirenze.

“Onlyonewhohasnothingtolose,andeverythingtogain,wouldcommitsuchacrime.Thebloodofaunicornwillkeepyoualive,evenifyouareaninchfromdeath,butataterribleprice.Youhaveslainsomethingpureanddefenselesstosaveyourself,andyouwillhavebutahalf-life,acursedlife,fromthemomentthebloodtouchesyourlips.”

HarrystaredatthebackofFirenze’shead,whichwasdappledsilverinthemoonlight.

“Butwho’dbethatdesperate?”hewonderedaloud.“Ifyou’regoingtobecursedforever,death’sbetter,isn’tit?”

“Itis,”Firenzeagreed,“unlessallyouneedistostayalivelongenoughtodrink somethingelse—something thatwillbringyouback to full strengthandpower—something thatwillmeanyoucanneverdie.Mr.Potter,doyouknowwhatishiddenintheschoolatthisverymoment?”

“TheSorcerer’s Stone!Of course— theElixir ofLife!But I don’tunderstandwho—”

“Can you think of nobodywho haswaitedmany years to return topower,whohasclungtolife,awaitingtheirchance?”

Itwas as though an iron fist had clenched suddenly aroundHarry’sheart.Overtherustlingofthetrees,heseemedtohearoncemorewhatHagridhadtoldhimonthenighttheyhadmet:“Somesayhedied.Codswallop,inmyopinion.Dunnoifhehadenoughhumanleftinhimtodie.”

“Doyoumean,”Harrycroaked,“thatwasVol-”“Harry!Harry,areyouallright?” Hermionewas running toward them down the path,Hagrid puffing

alongbehindher. “I’m fine,” said Harry, hardly knowing what he was saying. “The

unicorn’sdead,Hagrid,it’sinthatclearingbackthere.”“ThisiswhereIleaveyou,”FirenzemurmuredasHagridhurriedoffto

examinetheunicorn.“Youaresafenow.”Harryslidoffhisback. “Goodluck,HarryPotter,”saidFirenze.“Theplanetshavebeenread

wronglybeforenow,evenbycentaurs.Ihopethisisoneofthosetimes.”Heturnedandcanteredbackintothedepthsoftheforest,leavingHarry

shiveringbehindhim.

Ronhadfallenasleepinthedarkcommonroom,waitingforthemtoreturn.He shouted something about Quidditch fouls when Harry roughly shook himawake.Inamatterofseconds,though,hewaswide-eyedasHarrybegantotellhimandHermionewhathadhappenedintheforest.

Harrycouldn’tsitdown.Hepacedupanddowninfrontofthefire.Hewasstillshaking.

“SnapewantsthestoneforVoldemort…andVoldemort’swaitingintheforest…andallthistimewethoughtSnapejustwantedtogetrich….”

“Stopsayingthename!”saidRoninaterrifiedwhisper,asifhethoughtVoldemortcouldhearthem.

Harrywasn’tlistening. “Firenze saved me, but he shouldn’t have done so.…Bane was

furious…hewastalkingabout interferingwithwhat theplanetssayisgoingto

happen….TheymustshowthatVoldemort’scomingback.…BanethinksFirenzeshould have let Voldemort kill me.…I suppose that’s written in the stars aswell.”

“Willyoustopsayingthename!”Ronhissed.“SoallI’vegottowaitfornowisSnapetostealtheStone,”Harrywent

onfeverishly,“thenVoldemortwillbeabletocomeandfinishmeoff...Well,IsupposeBane’llbehappy.”

Hermionelookedveryfrightened,butshehadawordofcomfort.“Harry,everyonesaysDumbledore’stheonlyoneYou-Know-Whowas

ever afraid of with Dumbledore around, You-Know-Who won’t touch you.Anyway,who says thecentaurs are right? It sounds like fortune-telling tome,andProfessorMcGonagallsaysthat’saveryimprecisebranchofmagic.”

Theskyhadturnedlightbeforetheystoppedtalking.Theywenttobedexhausted,theirthroatssore.Butthenight’ssurprisesweren’tover.

WhenHarry pulled back his sheets, he found his invisibility cloakfoldedneatlyunderneaththem.Therewasanotepinnedtoit:

Justincase.

HP1-HarryPotterandtheSorcerer'sStone

CHAPTERSIXTEEN

THROUGHTHETRAPDOOR

Inyearstocome,Harrywouldneverquiterememberhowhehadmanagedto get through his examswhen he half expectedVoldemort to come burstingthrough thedooratanymoment.Yet thedayscreptby,and therecouldbenodoubtthatFluffywasstillaliveandwellbehindthelockeddoor.

Itwasswelteringhot,especiallyinthelargeclassroomwheretheydidtheir written papers. They had been given special, new quills for the exams,whichhadbeenbewitchedwithanAnticheatingspell.

Theyhadpracticalexamsaswell.ProfessorFlitwickcalledthemonebyoneintohisclasstoseeiftheycouldmakeapineappletapdanceacrossadesk.ProfessorMcGonagall watched them turn a mouse into a snuffbox— pointsweregivenforhowprettythesnuffboxwas,buttakenawayifithadwhiskers.Snapemade them all nervous, breathing down their neckswhile they tried torememberhowtomakeaForgetfulnesspotion.

Harrydidthebesthecould,tryingtoignorethestabbingpainsinhisforehead, which had been bothering him ever since his trip into the forest.Neville thoughtHarry had a bad case of examnerves becauseHarry couldn’tsleep, but the truth was that Harry kept being woken by his old nightmare,except that it was now worse than ever because there was a hooded figuredrippingbloodinit.

Maybe itwas because they hadn’t seenwhatHarry had seen in theforest,orbecausetheydidn’thavescarsburningontheirforeheads,butRonandHermione didn’t seem as worried about the Stone as Harry. The idea ofVoldemortcertainlyscaredthem,buthedidn’tkeepvisitingthemindreams,andtheyweresobusywiththeirstudyingtheydidn’thavemuchtimetofretaboutwhatSnapeoranyoneelsemightbeupto.

Their very last examwasHistoryofMagic.Onehourof answeringquestions about batty old wizards who’d invented selfstirring cauldrons andthey’dbe free, free for awholewonderfulweekuntil their exam results cameout.When theghostofProfessorBinns told themtoputdowntheirquillsandrolluptheirparchment,Harrycouldn’thelpcheeringwiththerest.

“ThatwasfareasierthanIthoughtitwouldbe,”saidHermioneastheyjoinedthecrowdsflockingoutontothesunnygrounds.“Ineedn’thavelearnedaboutthe1637WerewolfCodeofConductortheuprisingofElfrictheEager.”

Hermionealwayslikedtogothroughtheirexampapersafterward,butRonsaidthismadehimfeelill,sotheywandereddowntothelakeandfloppedunderatree.TheWeasleytwinsandLeeJordanwereticklingthetentaclesofagiantsquid,whichwasbaskinginthewarmshallows.“Nomorestudying,”Ronsighed happily, stretching out on the grass. “You could look more cheerful,Harry,we’vegotaweekbeforewefindouthowbadlywe’vedone,there’snoneedtoworryyet.”

Harrywasrubbinghisforehead.“IwishIknewwhatthismeans!”heburstoutangrily.“Myscarkeeps

hurting—it’shappenedbefore,butneverasoftenasthis.”“GotoMadamPomfrey,”Hermionesuggested. “I’mnot ill,” saidHarry. “I think it’s awarning…itmeansdanger’s

coming….”Roncouldn’tgetworkedup,itwastoohot. “Harry, relax, Hermione’s right, the Stone’s safe as long as

Dumbledore’s around. Anyway, we’ve never had any proof Snape found outhowtogetpastFluffy.Henearlyhadhislegrippedoffonce,he’snotgoingtotry it again in a hurry. And Neville will play Quidditch for England beforeHagridletsDumbledoredown.”

Harrynodded,buthecouldn’tshakeoffalurkingfeelingthattherewassomethinghe’dforgottentodo,somethingimportant.Whenhetriedtoexplainthis, Hermione said, “That’s just the exams. I woke up last night and washalfwaythroughmyTransfigurationnotesbeforeIrememberedwe’ddonethatone.”

Harrywasquitesuretheunsettledfeelingdidn’thaveanythingtodowithwork,though.Hewatchedanowlfluttertowardtheschoolacrossthebrightbluesky,anoteclampedin itsmouth.Hagridwas theonlyonewhoeversenthim letters. Hagrid would never betray Dumbledore. Hagrid would never tellanyonehowtogetpastFluffy…never…but….

Harrysuddenlyjumpedtohisfeet.“Where’reyougoing?”saidRonsleepily. “I’ve just thought of something,” saidHarry.He had turnedwhite.

“We’vegottogoandseeHagrid,now.”“Why?”pantedHermione,hurryingtokeepup.“Don’tyouthinkit’sabitodd,”saidHarry,scramblingupthegrassy

slope, “that what Hagrid wants more than anything else is a dragon, and astranger turns upwho just happens to have an egg in his pocket?Howmanypeoplewanderaroundwithdragoneggsif it’sagainstwizardlaw?LuckytheyfoundHagrid,don’tyouthink?Whydidn’tIseeitbefore?”

“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”saidRon,butHarry,sprintingacrossthegroundstowardtheforest,didn’tanswer.

Hagridwassitting inanarmchairoutsidehishouse;his trousersandsleeveswererolledup,andhewasshellingpeasintoalargebowl.

“Hullo,”hesaid,smiling.“Finishedyerexams?Gottimeferadrink?”“Yes,please,”saidRon,butHarrycuthimoff.“No,we’reinahurry.Hagrid,I’vegottoaskyousomething.Youknow

thatnightyouwonNorbert?Whatdidthestrangeryouwereplayingcardswithlooklike?”

“Dunno,”saidHagridcasually,“hewouldn’takehiscloakoff.”Hesawthethreeofthemlookstunnedandraisedhiseyebrows.“It’snotthatunusual,yehgetaloto’funnyfolkintheHog’sHead—

that’s the pub down in the village.Mighta bin a dragon dealer,mightn’ he? Ineversawhisface,hekepthishoodup.”

Harrysankdownnexttothebowlofpeas.“Whatdidyoutalktohimabout,Hagrid?DidyoumentionHogwartsatall?”

“Mighta come up,” saidHagrid, frowning as he tried to remember.“Yeah…heaskedwhatIdid,an’ItoldhimIwasgamekeeperhere…Heaskedabit about the sorta creatures I took after…so I told him…an’ I said what I’dalwaysreallywantedwasadragon…an’then…Ican’remembertoowell,‘causehekeptbuyin’medrinks…Let’ssee…yeah,thenhesaidhehadthedragoneggan’wecouldplaycardsferitifIwanted…buthehadterbesureIcouldhandleit,hedidn’wantittergoteranyoldhome….SoItoldhim,afterFluffy,adragonwouldbeeasy.…”

“Anddidhe—didheseeminterestedinFluffy?”Harryasked,tryingtokeephisvoicecalm.

“Well— yeah— howmany three-headed dogs d’yeh meet, evenaroundHogwarts?So I toldhim,Fluffy’sapieceo’cake ifyehknowhow tocalmhimdown, jus’playhimabito’musican’he’llgostraightoff tersleep—”

Hagridsuddenlylookedhorrified. “Ishouldn’tatoldyehthat!”heblurtedout.“ForgetIsaidit!Hey—

where’reyehgoin’?” Harry,Ron,andHermionedidn’tspeaktoeachotheratalluntilthey

cametoahaltintheentrancehall,whichseemedverycoldandgloomyafterthegrounds.

“We’ve got to go to Dumbledore,” said Harry. “Hagrid told thatstrangerhowtogetpastFluffy,anditwaseitherSnapeorVoldemortunderthatcloak — it must’ve been easy, once he’d got Hagrid drunk. I just hope

Dumbledore believes us. Firenzemight back us up if Bane doesn’t stop him.Where’sDumbledore’soffice?”

Theylookedaround,asifhopingtoseeasignpointingthemintherightdirection.TheyhadneverbeentoldwhereDumbledorelived,nordidtheyknowanyonewhohadbeensenttoseehim.

“We’lljusthaveto—”Harrybegan,butavoicesuddenlyrangacrossthehall.

“Whatareyouthreedoinginside?”ItwasProfessorMcGonagall,carryingalargepileofbooks.“WewanttoseeProfessorDumbledore,”saidHermione,ratherbravely,

HarryandRonthought. “See Professor Dumbledore?” Professor McGonagall repeated, as

thoughthiswasaveryfishythingtowanttodo.“Why?”Harryswallowed—nowwhat?“It’ssortofsecret,”hesaid,buthewishedatoncehehadn’t,because

ProfessorMcGonagall’snostrilsflared. “ProfessorDumbledore left tenminutes ago,” she said coldly. “He

receivedanurgentowlfromtheMinistryofMagicandflewoffforLondonatonce.”

“He’sgone?”saidHarryfrantically.“Now?” “ProfessorDumbledore is a very greatwizard, Potter, he hasmany

demandsonhistime–”“Butthisisimportant.” “Somethingyouhave to say ismore important than theMinistry of

Magic,Potter?” “Look,”saidHarry,throwingcautiontothewinds,“Professor—it’s

abouttheSorcerer’sStone—” Whatever Professor McGonagall had expected, it wasn’t that. The

booksshewascarryingtumbledoutofherarms,butshedidn’tpickthemup.“Howdoyouknow—?”shespluttered.“Professor,Ithink—Iknow—thatSn—thatsomeone’sgoingtotry

andstealtheStone.I’vegottotalktoProfessorDumbledore.”Sheeyedhimwithamixtureofshockandsuspicion.“ProfessorDumbledorewillbebacktomorrow,”shesaidfinally.Idon’t

knowhowyoufoundoutabouttheStone,butrestassured,noonecanpossiblystealit,it’stoowellprotected.”

“ButProfessor—” “Potter, I knowwhat I’m talking about,” she said shortly. She bent

downandgatheredup the fallenbooks. I suggest you all gobackoutside and

enjoythesunshine.”Buttheydidn’t.“It’stonight,”saidHarry,oncehewassureProfessorMcGonagallwas

out of earshot. “Snape’s going through the trapdoor tonight. He’s found outeverythingheneeds,andnowhe’sgotDumbledoreoutoftheway.Hesentthatnote,IbettheMinistryofMagicwillgetarealshockwhenDumbledoreturnsup.”

“Butwhatcanwe—”Hermionegasped.HarryandRonwheeledround.Snapewasstandingthere.“Goodafternoon,”hesaidsmoothly.Theystaredathim. “You shouldn’t be inside on a day like this,” he said,with an odd,

twistedsmile.“Wewere—”Harrybegan,withoutanyideawhathewasgoingtosay.“Youwanttobemorecareful,”saidSnape.“Hangingaroundlikethis,

peoplewillthinkyou’reuptosomething.AndGryffindorreallycan’taffordtoloseanymorepoints,canit?”

Harryflushed.Theyturnedtogooutside,butSnapecalledthemback. “Be warned, Potter— any more nighttime wanderings and I will

personallymakesureyouareexpelled.Gooddaytoyou.”Hestrodeoffinthedirectionofthestaffroom.Outonthestonesteps,Harryturnedtotheothers.“Right,here’swhatwe’vegottodo,”hewhisperedurgently.“Oneofus

hasgottokeepaneyeonSnape—waitoutsidethestaffroomandfollowhimifheleavesit.Hermione,you’dbetterdothat.”

“Whyme?”“It’sobvious,”saidRon.“YoucanpretendtobewaitingforProfessor

Flitwick,youknow.”Heputonahighvoice, “‘OhProfessorFlitwick, I’msoworried,IthinkIgotquestionfourteenbwrong….’”

“Oh,shutup,”saidHermione,butsheagreedtogoandwatchoutforSnape.

“Andwe’dbetterstayoutsidethethird-floorcorridor,”HarrytoldRon.“Comeon.”

Butthatpartoftheplandidn’twork.Nosoonerhadtheyreachedthedoor separating Fluffy from the rest of the school than ProfessorMcGonagallturnedupagainandthistime,shelosthertemper.

“I suppose you think you’re harder to get past than a pack ofenchantments!”shestormed.“Enoughof thisnonsense! If Ihearyou’vecome

anywhere near here again, I’ll take another fifty points fromGryffindor!Yes,Weasley,frommyownhouse!”

HarryandRonwentbacktothecommonroom,Harryhadjustsaid,“AtleastHermione’sonSnape’stail,”whentheportraitoftheFatLadyswungopenandHermionecamein.

“I’msorry,Harry!”shewailed.“SnapecameoutandaskedmewhatIwasdoing,soIsaidIwaswaitingforFlitwick,andSnapewenttogethim,andI’veonlyjustgotaway,Idon’tknowwhereSnapewent.”

“Well,that’sitthen,isn’tit?”Harrysaid.Theothertwostaredathim.Hewaspaleandhiseyeswereglittering.“I’mgoingoutofheretonightandI’mgoingtotryandgettotheStone

first.”“You’remad!”saidRon.“Youcan’t!”saidHermione.“AfterwhatMcGonagallandSnapehave

said?You’llbeexpelled!”“SOWHAT”Harryshouted.“Don’tyouunderstand?IfSnapegetshold

of the Stone, Voldemort’s coming back! Haven’t you heard what it was likewhenhewastryingtotakeover?Therewon’tbeanyHogwartstogetexpelledfrom!He’ll flatten it, or turn it intoa school for theDarkArts!Losingpointsdoesn’tmatter anymore, can’t you see?D’you think he’ll leave you and yourfamiliesaloneifGryffindorwinsthehousecup?IfIgetcaughtbeforeIcangettotheStone,well,I’llhavetogobacktotheDursleysandwaitforVoldemorttofindme there, it’sonlydyingabit later thanIwouldhave,becauseI’mnevergoingovertotheDarkSide!I’mgoingthroughthattrapdoortonightandnothingyoutwosayisgoingtostopme!Voldemortkilledmyparents,remember?”

Heglaredatthem.“You’rerightHarry,”saidHermioneinasmallvoice. “I’ll use the invisibility cloak,” saidHarry. “It’s just lucky I got it

back.”“Butwillitcoverallthreeofus?”saidRon.“All—allthreeofus?”“Oh,comeoffit,youdon’tthinkwe’dletyougoalone?”“Ofcoursenot,”saidHermionebriskly.“Howdoyouthinkyou’dgetto

theStonewithoutus?I’dbettergoandtookthroughmybooks,theremightbesomethinguseful….”

“Butifwegetcaught,youtwowillbeexpelled,too.”“NotifIcanhelpit,”saidHermionegrimly.“Flitwicktoldmeinsecret

thatIgotahundredandtwelvepercentonhisexam.They’renot throwingmeoutafterthat.”

After dinner the three of them sat nervously apart in the common room.Nobody bothered them; none of theGryffindors had anything to say toHarryanymore,afterall.Thiswasthefirstnighthehadn’tbeenupsetbyit.Hermionewas skimming through all her notes, hoping to come across one of theenchantmentstheywereabouttotrytobreak.HarryandRondidn’ttalkmuch.Bothofthemwerethinkingaboutwhattheywereabouttodo.

Slowly,theroomemptiedaspeopledriftedofftobed. “Better get the cloak,” Ron muttered, as Lee Jordan finally left,

stretchingandyawning.Harryranupstairstotheirdarkdormitory.HepulledoutthecloakandthenhiseyesfellonthefluteHagridhadgivenhimforChristmas.HepocketedittouseonFluffy—hedidn’tfeelmuchlikesinging.

Heranbackdowntothecommonroom.“We’dbetterputthecloakonhere,andmakesureitcoversallthreeof

us–ifFilchspotsoneofourfeetwanderingalongonitsown—” “What are you doing?” said a voice from the corner of the room.

Neville appeared from behind an armchair, clutching Trevor the toad, wholookedasthoughhe’dbeenmakinganotherbidforfreedom.

“Nothing,Neville, nothing,” saidHarry, hurriedly putting the cloakbehindhisback.

Nevillestaredattheirguiltyfaces.“You’regoingoutagain,”hesaid.“No,no,no,”saidHermione.“No,we’renot.Whydon’tyougotobed,

Neville?”Harrylookedatthegrandfatherclockbythedoor.Theycouldn’tafford

towasteanymoretime,SnapemightevennowbeplayingFluffytosleep. “Youcan’tgoout,”saidNeville,“you’llbecaughtagain.Gryffindor

willbeinevenmoretrouble.”“Youdon’tunderstand,”saidHarry,“thisisimportant.”ButNevillewasclearlysteelinghimselftodosomethingdesperate.Iwon’tletyoudoit,”hesaid,hurryingtostandinfrontoftheportrait

hole.“I’ll—I’llfightyou!”“Neville,“Ronexploded,“getawayfromthatholeanddon’tbeanidiot

—”“Don’tyoucallmeanidiot!”saidNeville.Idon’tthinkyoushouldbe

breaking anymore rules! And youwere the one who toldme to stand up topeople!”

“Yes,butnottous,”saidRoninexasperation.“Neville,youdon’tknowwhatyou’redoing.”

HetookastepforwardandNevilledroppedTrevorthetoad,wholeaptoutofsight.

“Goonthen,tryandhitme!”saidNeville,raisinghisfists.“I’mready!”HarryturnedtoHermione.“Dosomething,”hesaiddesperately.Hermionesteppedforward.“Neville,”shesaid,“I’mreally,reallysorryaboutthis.”Sheraisedherwand.“PetrificusTotalus!”shecried,pointingitatNeville.Neville’sarmssnappedtohissides.Hislegssprangtogether.Hiswhole

body rigid, he swayedwhere he stood and then fell flat on his face, stiff as aboard.

Hermionerantoturnhimover.Neville’sjawswerejammedtogethersohecouldn’tspeak.Onlyhiseyesweremoving,lookingattheminhorror.

“What’veyoudonetohim?”Harrywhispered.“It’sthefullBody-Bind,”saidHermionemiserably.“Oh,Neville,I’m

sosorry.”“Wehadto,Neville,notimetoexplain,”saidHarry.“You’llunderstandlater,Neville,”saidRonastheysteppedoverhim

andpulledontheinvisibilitycloak.ButleavingNevillelyingmotionlessonthefloordidn’tfeellikeavery

goodomen.Intheirnervousstate,everystatue’sshadowlookedlikeFilch,everydistantbreathofwindsoundedlikePeevesswoopingdownonthem.Atthefootofthefirstsetofstairs,theyspottedMrs.Norrisskulkingnearthetop.

“Oh,let’skickher,justthisonce,”RonwhisperedinHarry’sear,butHarryshookhishead.Astheyclimbedcarefullyaroundher,Mrs.Norristurnedherlamplikeeyesonthem,butdidn’tdoanything.

Theydidn’tmeetanyoneelseuntiltheyreachedthestaircaseuptothethirdfloor.Peeveswasbobbinghalfwayup,looseningthecarpetsothatpeoplewouldtrip.

“Who’s there?” he said suddenly as they climbed toward him. Henarrowedhiswickedblack eyes. “Knowyou’re there, even if I can’t seeyou.Areyoughoulieorghostieorweestudentbeastie?”

Heroseupintheairandfloatedthere,squintingatthem.“ShouldcallFilch,Ishould,ifsomething’sa-creepingaroundunseen.”Harryhadasuddenidea.“Peeves,”hesaid,inahoarsewhisper,“theBloodyBaronhashisown

reasonsforbeinginvisible.”Peevesalmostfelloutoftheairinshock.Hecaughthimselfintimeand

hoveredaboutafootoffthestairs. “So sorry, your bloodiness,Mr. Baron, Sir,” he said greasily. “My

mistake,mymistake—Ididn’tseeyou—ofcourseIdidn’t,you’reinvisible—forgiveoldPeevsiehislittlejoke,sir.”

“Ihavebusinesshere,Peeves,”croakedHarry.“Stayawayfromthisplacetonight.”

“Iwill,sir,Imostcertainlywill,”saidPeeves,risingupintheairagain.“Hopeyourbusinessgoeswell,Baron,I’llnotbotheryou.”

Andhescootedoff.“Brilliant,Harry!”whisperedRon.Afewsecondslater,theywerethere,outsidethethird-floorcorridor—

andthedoorwasalreadyajar. “Well, there you are,”Harry saidquietly, “Snape’s alreadygot past

Fluffy.” Seeing theopendoor somehowseemed to impressuponall threeof

themwhatwasfacingthem.Underneaththecloak,Harryturnedtotheothertwo.“Ifyouwanttogoback,Iwon’tblameyou,”hesaid.“Youcantakethe

cloak,Iwon’tneeditnow.”“Don’tbestupid,”saidRon.“We’recoming,”saidHermione.Harrypushedthedooropen.Asthedoorcreaked,low,rumblinggrowlsmettheirears.Allthreeof

the dog’s noses sniffed madly in their direction, even though it couldn’t seethem.

“What’sthatatitsfeet?”Hermionewhispered.“Lookslikeaharp,”saidRon.“Snapemusthaveleftitthere.” “Itmustwakeup themomentyou stopplaying,” saidHarry. “Well,

heregoes….”HeputHagrid’sflutetohislipsandblew.Itwasn’treallyatune,but

from the first note thebeast’s eyesbegan todroop.Harryhardlydrewbreath.Slowly,thedog’sgrowlsceased—ittotteredonitspawsandfelltoitsknees,thenitslumpedtotheground,fastasleep.

“Keepplaying,”RonwarnedHarryastheyslippedoutofthecloakandcrept towardthetrapdoor.Theycouldfeel thedog’shot,smellybreathastheyapproached thegiantheads.“I thinkwe’llbeable topull thedooropen,” saidRon,peeringoverthedog’sback.“Wanttogofirst,Hermione?”

“No,Idon’t!”“Allright.”Rongrittedhisteethandsteppedcarefullyoverthedog’s

legs.Hebentandpulledtheringofthetrapdoor,whichswungupandopen.

“Whatcanyousee?”Hermionesaidanxiously.“Nothing—justblack—there’snowayofclimbingdown,we’lljust

havetodrop.”Harry,whowasstillplayingtheflute,wavedatRontogethisattention

andpointedathimself. “Youwant togofirst?Areyousure?”saidRon.“Idon’tknowhow

deepthisthinggoes.GivetheflutetoHermionesoshecankeephimasleep.” Harry handed the flute over. In the few seconds’ silence, the dog

growledandtwitched,butthemomentHermionebegantoplay,itfellbackintoitsdeepsleep.

Harryclimbedoveritandlookeddownthroughthetrapdoor.Therewasnosignofthebottom.

He loweredhimself through theholeuntilhewashangingonbyhisfingertips.ThenhelookedupatRonandsaid,“Ifanythinghappenstome,don’tfollow.GostraighttotheowleryandsendHedwigtoDumbledore,right?”

“Right,”saidRon.“Seeyouinaminute,Ihope…” AndHarry let go.Cold, damp air rushed past him as he fell down,

down,downand—FLUMP.Withafunny,muffledsortofthumphelandedonsomething

soft.Hesatupandfeltaround,hiseyesnotusedtothegloom.Itfeltasthoughhewassittingonsomesortofplant.

“It’sokay!”hecalleduptothelightthesizeofapostagestamp,whichwastheopentrapdoor,“it’sasoftlanding,youcanjump!”

Ronfollowedrightaway.Helanded,sprawlednexttoHarry.“What’sthisstuff?”werehisfirstwords.“Dunno,somesortofplantthing.Isupposeit’sheretobreakthefall.

Comeon,Hermione!” Thedistantmusic stopped.Therewasa loudbark from thedog,but

Hermionehadalreadyjumped.ShelandedonHarry’sotherside.“Wemustbemilesundertheschool,”shesaid.“Luckythisplantthing’shere,really,”saidRon.“Lucky!”shriekedHermione.“Lookatyouboth!” She leaptupandstruggled towardadampwall.Shehad to struggle

because the moment she had landed, the plant had started to twist snakeliketendrils aroundher ankles.As forHarry andRon, their legs had already beenboundtightlyinlongcreeperswithouttheirnoticing.

Hermionehadmanagedtofreeherselfbeforetheplantgotafirmgriponher.Nowshewatchedinhorrorasthetwoboysfoughttopulltheplantoff

them,butthemoretheystrainedagainstit,thetighterandfastertheplantwoundaroundthem.

“Stopmoving!”Hermioneorderedthem.“Iknowwhatthis is—it’sDevil’sSnare!”

“Oh,I’msogladweknowwhatit’scalled,that’sagreathelp,”snarledRon,leaningback,tryingtostoptheplantfromcurlingaroundhisneck.“Shutup,I’mtryingtorememberhowtokillit!”saidHermione.

“Well,hurryup,Ican’tbreathe!”Harrygasped,wrestlingwithitasitcurledaroundhischest.

“Devil’sSnare,Devil’sSnare…whatdidProfessorSprout say?—itlikesthedarkandthedamp.”

“Solightafire!”Harrychoked.“Yes—ofcourse—butthere’snowood!”Hermionecried,wringing

herhands. “HAVEYOUGONEMAD?”Ronbellowed.“AREYOUAWITCH

ORNOT?”“Oh,right!”saidHermione,andshewhippedoutherwand,wavedit,

mutteredsomething,andsentajetofthesamebluebellflamesshehadusedonSnapeattheplant.Inamatterofseconds,thetwoboysfeltitlooseningitsgripas it cringed away from the light and warmth. Wriggling and flailing, itunraveleditselffromtheirbodies,andtheywereabletopullfree.

“LuckyyoupayattentioninHerbology,Hermione,”saidHarryashejoinedherbythewall,wipingsweatoffhisface.

“Yeah,”saidRon,“andluckyHarrydoesn’tlosehisheadinacrisis—‘there’snowood,’honestly.”

“Thisway,”saidHarry,pointingdownastonepassageway,whichwastheonlywayforward.

All theycouldhearapart from their footstepswas thegentledripofwater trickling down thewalls. The passageway sloped downward, andHarrywasremindedofGringotts.Withanunpleasantjoltoftheheart,herememberedthedragonssaidtobeguardingvaultsinthewizards’bank.Iftheymetadragon,afully-growndragon—Norberthadbeenbadenough….

“Canyouhearsomething?”Ronwhispered.Harrylistened.Asoftrustlingandclinkingseemedtobecomingfrom

upahead.“Doyouthinkit’saghost?”“Idon’tknow…soundslikewingstome.”“There’slightahead—Icanseesomethingmoving.” They reached the end of the passageway and saw before them a

brilliantlylitchamber,itsceilingarchinghighabovethem.Itwasfullofsmall,jewel-brightbirds,flutteringandtumblingallaroundtheroom.Ontheoppositesideofthechamberwasaheavywoodendoor.

“Doyouthinkthey’llattackusifwecrosstheroom?”saidRon.“Probably,”saidHarry.“Theydon’tlookveryvicious,butIsupposeif

theyallswoopeddownatonce…well,there’snootherchoice…I’llrun.” He tookadeepbreath, coveredhis facewithhis arms, and sprinted

acrosstheroom.Heexpectedtofeelsharpbeaksandclawstearingathimanysecond, but nothing happened.He reached the door untouched.He pulled thehandle,butitwaslocked.

Theothertwofollowedhim.Theytuggedandheavedatthedoor,butitwouldn’tbudge,notevenwhenHermionetriedherAlohomoracharm.

“Nowwhat?”saidRon.“Thesebirds…theycan’tbeherejustfordecoration,”saidHermione.Theywatchedthebirdssoaringoverhead,glittering—glittering?“They’renotbirds!”Harrysaidsuddenly.“They’rekeys!Wingedkeys

—lookcarefully.Sothatmustmean…”helookedaroundthechamberwhiletheothertwosquintedupattheflockofkeys.“…yes—look!Broomsticks!We’vegottocatchthekeytothedoor!”

“Buttherearehundredsofthem!”Ronexaminedthelockonthedoor.“We’relookingforabig,old-fashionedone—probablysilver,likethe

handle.”Theyeachseizedabroomstickandkickedoffintotheair,soaringinto

themidstof thecloudofkeys.Theygrabbedand snatched,but thebewitchedkeysdartedanddivedsoquicklyitwasalmostimpossibletocatchone.

Notfornothing,though,wasHarrytheyoungestSeekerinacentury.Hehadaknackforspottingthingsotherpeopledidn’t.Afteraminute’sweavingabout through thewhirl of rainbow feathers, henoticeda large silverkey thathad abentwing, as if it had alreadybeen caught and stuffed roughly into thekeyhole.

“Thatone!”hecalledtotheothers.“Thatbigone—there—no,there—withbrightbluewings—thefeathersareallcrumpledononeside.”

Ronwent speeding in thedirection thatHarrywaspointing,crashedintotheceiling,andnearlyfelloffhisbroom.

“We’vegottocloseinonit!”Harrycalled,nottakinghiseyesoffthekeywiththedamagedwing.“Ron,youcomeatitfromabove—Hermione,staybelowandstopitfromgoingdownandI’lltryandcatchit.Right,NOW!”

Rondived,Hermionerocketedupward,thekeydodgedthemboth,and

Harrystreakedafterit;itspedtowardthewall,Harryleanedforwardandwithanasty, crunching noise, pinned it against the stone with one hand. Ron andHermione’scheersechoedaroundthehighchamber.

Theylandedquickly,andHarryrantothedoor,thekeystrugglinginhishand.Herammedit into the lockand turned– itworked.Themoment thelockhadclickedopen,thekeytookflightagain,lookingverybatterednowthatithadbeencaughttwice.

“Ready?”Harryaskedtheothertwo,hishandonthedoorhandle.Theynodded.Hepulledthedooropen.

Thenextchamberwassodarktheycouldn’tseeanythingatall.Butasthey stepped into it, light suddenly flooded the room to reveal an astonishingsight.

Theywerestandingontheedgeofahugechessboard,behindtheblackchessmen,whichwerealltallerthantheywereandcarvedfromwhatlookedlikeblackstone.Facingthem,wayacrossthechamber,werethewhitepieces.Harry,Ron and Hermione shivered slightly – the towering white chessmen had nofaces.

“Nowwhatdowedo?”Harrywhispered.“It’sobvious,isn’tit?”saidRon.“We’vegottoplayourwayacrossthe

room.”Behindthewhitepiecestheycouldseeanotherdoor.“How?”saidHermionenervously.“Ithink,”saidRon,“we’regoingtohavetobechessmen.” Hewalked up to a black knight and put his hand out to touch the

knight’s horse.At once, the stone sprang to life.Thehorse pawed the groundandtheknightturnedhishelmetedheadtolookdownatRon.

“Dowe—er—have to joinyou to get across?”Theblackknightnodded.Ronturnedtotheothertwo.

“Thisneedsthinkingabout…”hesaid.“Isupposewe’vegottotaketheplaceofthreeoftheblackpieces….”

HarryandHermionestayedquiet,watchingRonthink.Finallyhesaid,“Now,don’tbeoffendedoranything,butneitherofyouarethatgoodatchess—”

“We’renotoffended,”saidHarryquickly.“Justtelluswhattodo.”“Well,Harry,youtaketheplaceofthatbishop,andHermione,younext

tohiminsteadofthatcastle.”“Whataboutyou?”“I’mgoingtobeaknight,”saidRon.Thechessmenseemedtohavebeenlistening,becauseatthesewordsa

knight,abishop,andacastleturnedtheirbacksonthewhitepiecesandwalkedofftheboard,leavingthreeemptysquaresthatHarry,Ron,andHermionetook.

“Whitealwaysplaysfirstinchess,”saidRon,peeringacrosstheboard.“Yes…look…”

Awhitepawnhadmovedforwardtwosquares.Ronstartedtodirecttheblackpieces.Theymovedsilentlywhereverhe

sentthem.Harry’skneesweretrembling.Whatiftheylost?“Harry—movediagonallyfoursquarestotheright.” Their first real shock camewhen their other knightwas taken. The

whitequeensmashedhimtotheflooranddraggedhimofftheboard,wherehelayquitestill,facedown.

“Hadtoletthathappen,”saidRon,lookingshaken.“Leavesyoufreetotakethatbishop,Hermione,goon.”

Every time one of theirmenwas lost, thewhite pieces showed nomercy.Soontherewasahuddleof limpblackplayersslumpedalongthewall.Twice,RononlyjustnoticedintimethatHarryandHermionewereindanger.Hehimselfdartedaroundtheboard,takingalmostasmanywhitepiecesastheyhadlostblackones.

“We’renearlythere,”hemutteredsuddenly.“Letmethink—letmethink…”

Thewhitequeenturnedherblankfacetowardhim.“Yes…”saidRonsoftly,“It’stheonlyway…I’vegottobetaken.”“NO!”HarryandHermioneshouted.“That’schess!”snappedRon.“You’vegottomakesomesacrifices!I

takeonestep forwardandshe’ll takeme—that leavesyoufree tocheckmatetheking,Harry!”

“But—”“DoyouwanttostopSnapeornot?”“Ron—”“Look,ifyoudon’thurryup,he’llalreadyhavetheStone!”Therewasnoalternative.“Ready?”Roncalled,hisfacepalebutdetermined.“HereIgo—now,

don’thangaroundonceyou’vewon.”Hesteppedforward,andthewhitequeenpounced.ShestruckRonhard

across the headwith her stone arm, and he crashed to the floor—Hermionescreamedbutstayedonhersquare—thewhitequeendraggedRontooneside.Helookedasifhe’dbeenknockedout.

Shaking,Harrymovedthreespacestotheleft.ThewhitekingtookoffhiscrownandthrewitatHarry’sfeet.Theyhad

won.Thechessmenpartedandbowed, leaving thedooraheadclear.WithonelastdesperatelookbackatRon,HarryandHermionechargedthroughthedoorandupthenextpassageway.

“Whatifhe’s—?” “He’llbeallright,”saidHarry,tryingtoconvincehimself.“Whatdo

youreckon’snext?”“We’vehadSprout’s,thatwastheDevil’sSnare;Flitwickmust’veput

charmsonthekeys;McGonagalltransfiguredthechessmentomakethemalive;thatleavesQuirrell’sspell,andSnape’s.”

Theyhadreachedanotherdoor.“Allright?”Harrywhispered.“Goon.”Harrypusheditopen.Adisgustingsmellfilledtheirnostrils,makingbothofthempulltheir

robesupovertheirnoses.Eyeswatering,theysaw,flatonthefloorinfrontofthem,a trolleven larger than theone theyhad tackled,outcoldwithabloodylumponitshead.

“I’mgladwedidn’thavetofight thatone,”Harrywhisperedas theysteppedcarefullyoveroneofitsmassivelegs.“Comeon,Ican’tbreathe.”

Hepulledopen thenextdoor,bothof themhardlydaring to lookatwhatcamenext-buttherewasnothingveryfrighteninginhere,justatablewithsevendifferentlyshapedbottlesstandingonitinaline.

“Snape’s,”saidHarry.“Whatdowehavetodo?” They stepped over the threshold, and immediately a fire sprang up

behindtheminthedoorway.Itwasn’tordinaryfireeither;itwaspurple.Atthesame instant,black flames shotup in thedoorway leadingonward.Theyweretrapped.

“Look!”Hermioneseizedarollofpaperlyingnexttothebottles.Harrylookedoverhershouldertoreadit:

Dangerliesbeforeyou,whilesafetyliesbehind,Twoofuswillhelpyou,whicheveryouwouldfind,Oneamongussevenwillletyoumoveahead,Anotherwilltransportthedrinkerbackinstead,Twoamongournumberholdonlynettlewine,Threeofusarekillers,waitingbiddeninline.Choose,unlessyouwishtostayhereforevermore,Tohelpyouinyourchoice,wegiveyouthesecluesfour:First,howeverslylythepoisontriestohide

Youwillalwaysfindsomeonnettlewine’sleftside;Second,differentarethosewhostandateitherend,Butifyouwouldmoveonward,neitherisyourfriend;Third,asyouseeclearly,allaredifferentsize,Neitherdwarfnorgiantholdsdeathintheirinsides;Fourth,thesecondleftandthesecondontherightAretwinsonceyoutastethem,thoughdifferentatfirstsight.

HermioneletoutagreatsighandHarry,amazed,sawthatshewassmiling,theverylastthinghefeltlikedoing.

“Brilliant,”saidHermione.“Thisisn’tmagic—it’slogic—apuzzle.A lotof thegreatestwizardshaven’tgotanounceof logic, they’dbestuck inhereforever.”

“Butsowillwe,won’twe?”“Ofcoursenot,”saidHermione.“Everythingweneedishereonthis

paper. Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safelythroughtheblackfire,andonewillgetusbackthroughthepurple.”

“Buthowdoweknowwhichtodrink?”“Givemeaminute.”Hermionereadthepaperseveraltimes.Thenshewalkedupanddown

thelineofbottles,mutteringtoherselfandpointingatthem.Atlast,sheclappedherhands.

“Gotit,”shesaid.“Thesmallestbottlewillgetusthroughtheblackfire—towardtheStone.”Harrylookedatthetinybottle.“There’sonlyenoughthereforoneofus,”hesaid.“That’shardlyone

swallow.”Theylookedateachother.“Whichonewillgetyoubackthroughthepurpleflames?”Hermionepointedataroundedbottleattherightendoftheline.“Youdrinkthat,”saidHarry.“No,listen,getbackandgetRon.Grab

brooms from the flying-key room, they’llgetyououtof the trapdoorandpastFluffy—gostraightto theowleryandsendHedwigtoDumbledore,weneedhim. Imightbeable toholdSnapeoff forawhile,but I’mnomatchforhim,really.”

“ButHarry—whatifYou-Know-Who’swithhim?”“Well—Iwasluckyonce,wasn’tI?”saidHarry,pointingathisscar.

“Imightgetluckyagain.”Hermione’sliptrembled,andshesuddenlydashedatHarryandthrew

herarmsaroundhim.“Hermione!”“Harry—you’reagreatwizard,youknow.”“I’mnotasgoodasyou,”saidHarry,veryembarrassed,assheletgoof

him. “Me!” said Hermione. “Books! And cleverness! There are more

importantthings—friendshipandbraveryand—ohHarry—becareful!” “You drink first,” saidHarry. “You are surewhich iswhich, aren’t

you?”“Positive,”saidHermione.Shetookalongdrinkfromtheroundbottle

attheend,andshuddered.“It’snotpoison?”saidHarryanxiously.“No—butit’slikeice.”“Quick,go,beforeitwearsoff.”“Goodluck—takecare.”“GO!”Hermioneturnedandwalkedstraightthroughthepurplefire.Harrytookadeepbreathandpickedupthesmallestbottle.Heturnedto

facetheblackflames.“HereIcome,”hesaid,andhedrainedthelittlebottleinonegulp. Itwas indeedas thoughicewasfloodinghisbody.Heput thebottle

downandwalkedforward;hebracedhimself,sawtheblackflameslickinghisbody,butcouldn’tfeelthem—foramomenthecouldseenothingbutdarkfire—thenhewasontheotherside,inthelastchamber.

Therewasalreadysomeonethere—butitwasn’tSnape.Itwasn’tevenVoldemort.

HP1-HarryPotterandtheSorcerer'sStone

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

THEMANWITHTWOFACES

ItwasQuirrell.“You!”gaspedHarry.Quirrellsmiled.Hisfacewasn’ttwitchingatall. “Me,”hesaidcalmly.“IwonderedwhetherI’dbemeetingyouhere,

Potter.”“ButIthought—Snape—” “Severus?”Quirrell laughed,anditwasn’thisusualquiveringtreble,

either, but cold and sharp. “Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn’t he? Souseful tohavehimswoopingaround likeanovergrownbat.Next tohim,whowouldsuspectp-p-poor,st-stutteringP-ProfessorQuirrell?”

Harrycouldn’ttakeitin.Thiscouldn’tbetrue,itcouldn’t.“ButSnapetriedtokillme!”“No,no,no.Itriedtokillyou.YourfriendMissGrangeraccidentally

knockedmeoverassherushedtosetfiretoSnapeatthatQuidditchmatch.Shebrokemyeyecontactwithyou.AnotherfewsecondsandI’dhavegotyouoffthatbroom. I’dhavemanaged it before then ifSnapehadn’tbeenmuttering acountercurse,tryingtosaveyou.”

“Snapewastryingtosaveme?” “Of course,” saidQuirrell coolly. “Why do you think hewanted to

refereeyournextmatch?HewastryingtomakesureIdidn’tdoitagain.Funny,really…he needn’t have bothered. I couldn’t do anything with Dumbledorewatching. All the other teachers thought Snapewas trying to stopGryffindorfromwinning,hedidmakehimselfunpopular…andwhatawasteoftime,whenafterallthat,I’mgoingtokillyoutonight.”

Quirrellsnappedhisfingers.RopessprangoutofthinairandwrappedthemselvestightlyaroundHarry.

“You’re too nosy to live, Potter. Scurrying around the school onHalloweenlike that, forall Iknewyou’dseenmecomingto lookatwhatwasguardingtheStone.”

“Youletthetrollin?”“Certainly.Ihaveaspecialgiftwithtrolls—youmusthaveseenwhatI

did to the one in the chamber back there?Unfortunately,while everyone elsewas running around looking for it, Snape, who already suspected me, went

straighttothethirdfloortoheadmeoff—andnotonlydidmytrollfailtobeatyoutodeath, that three-headeddogdidn’tevenmanagetobiteSnape’slegoffproperly.

“Now,waitquietly,Potter.Ineedtoexaminethisinterestingmirror.”ItwasonlythenthatHarryrealizedwhatwasstandingbehindQuirrell.

ItwastheMirrorofErised. “This mirror is the key to finding the Stone,” Quirrell murmured,

tapping his way around the frame. “Trust Dumbledore to come up withsomething like this…buthe’s inLondon…I’llbe farawayby the timehegetsback…”

AllHarrycould thinkofdoingwas tokeepQuirrell talkingandstophimfromconcentratingonthemirror.

“IsawyouandSnapeintheforest—”heblurtedout.“Yes,”saidQuirrellidly,walkingaroundthemirrortolookattheback.

“Hewasontomebythattime,tryingtofindouthowfarI’dgot.Hesuspectedme all along. Tried to frighten me— as though he could, when I had LordVoldemortonmyside….”

Quirrellcamebackoutfrombehindthemirrorandstaredhungrilyintoit.

“IseetheStone…I’mpresentingittomymaster…butwhereisit?”Harrystruggledagainsttheropesbindinghim,buttheydidn’tgive.He

hadtokeepQuirrellfromgivinghiswholeattentiontothemirror.“ButSnapealwaysseemedtohatemesomuch.” “Oh, he does,” said Quirrell casually, “heavens, yes. He was at

Hogwartswithyour father,didn’tyouknow?They loathedeachother.Butheneverwantedyoudead.”

“But I heard you a few days ago, sobbing— I thought Snapewasthreateningyou.…”

Forthefirsttime,aspasmoffearflittedacrossQuirrell’sface.“Sometimes,”hesaid,“Ifindithardtofollowmymaster’sinstructions

—heisagreatwizardandIamweak—”“Youmeanhewasthereintheclassroomwithyou?”Harrygasped.“HeiswithmewhereverIgo,”saidQuirrellquietly.“ImethimwhenI

traveled around theworld.A foolish youngman Iwas then, full of ridiculousideasaboutgoodandevil.LordVoldemortshowedmehowwrongIwas.Thereisnogoodandevil, there isonlypower,andthose tooweaktoseekit…Sincethen,Ihaveservedhimfaithfully,althoughIhavelethimdownmanytimes.Hehashadtobeveryhardonme.”Quirrellshiveredsuddenly.“Hedoesnotforgivemistakes easily.When I failed to steal the stone fromGringotts, hewasmost

displeased.Hepunishedme…decidedhewouldhavetokeepacloserwatchonme.…”

Quirrell’svoicetrailedaway.HarrywasrememberinghistriptoDiagonAlley—howcouldhehavebeensostupid?He’dseenQuirrelltherethatveryday,shakenhandswithhimintheLeakyCauldron.

Quirrellcursedunderhisbreath.“Idon’tunderstand…istheStoneinsidethemirror?ShouldIbreakit?”Harry’smindwasracing. WhatIwantmorethananythingelseintheworldat themoment,he

thought, is to find theStonebeforeQuirrell does.So if I look in themirror, Ishouldseemyselffindingit—whichmeansI’llseewhereit’shidden!ButhowcanIlookwithoutQuirrellrealizingwhatI’mupto?

Hetriedtoedgetotheleft,togetinfrontoftheglasswithoutQuirrellnoticing,buttheropesaroundhisanklesweretootight:hetrippedandfellover.Quirrellignoredhim.Hewasstilltalkingtohimself.

“Whatdoesthismirrordo?Howdoesitwork?Helpme,Master!”AndtoHarry’shorror,avoiceanswered,andthevoiceseemedtocome

fromQuirrellhimself.“Usetheboy…Usetheboy.…”QuirrellroundedonHarry.“Yes—Potter—comehere.”Heclappedhishandsonce,andtheropesbindingHarryfelloff.Harry

gotslowlytohisfeet.“Comehere,”Quirrellrepeated.“Lookinthemirrorandtellmewhat

yousee.”Harrywalkedtowardhim.Imustlie,hethoughtdesperately.ImustlookandlieaboutwhatIsee,

that’sall.Quirrellmovedclosebehindhim.Harrybreathedinthefunnysmellthat

seemedtocomefromQuirrell’s turban.Heclosedhiseyes,steppedinfrontofthemirror,andopenedthemagain.

Hesawhisreflection,paleandscared-lookingatfirst.Butamomentlater,thereflectionsmiledathim.Itputitshandintoitspocketandpulledoutablood-redstone.ItwinkedandputtheStonebackinitspocket—andasitdidso,Harryfeltsomethingheavydropintohisrealpocket.Somehow—incredibly—he’dgottentheStone.

“Well?”saidQuirrellimpatiently.“Whatdoyousee?”Harryscreweduphiscourage.“IseemyselfshakinghandswithDumbledore,”heinvented.“I—I’ve

wonthehousecupforGryffindor.”Quirrellcursedagain. “Get out of the way,” he said. As Harry moved aside, he felt the

Sorcerer’sStoneagainsthisleg.Darehemakeabreakforit? But he hadn’twalked five paces before a high voice spoke, though

Quirrellwasn’tmovinghislips.“Helies…Helies.…” “Potter,comebackhere!”Quirrellshouted.“Tellmethetruth!What

didyoujustsee?”Thehighvoicespokeagain.“Letmespeaktohim…face-to-face…”“Master,youarenotstrongenough!”“Ihavestrengthenough…forthis…”HarryfeltasifDevil’sSnarewasrootinghimtothespot.Hecouldn’t

move a muscle. Petrified, he watched as Quirrell reached up and began tounwraphis turban.Whatwasgoingon?The turban fell away.Quirrell’s headlookedstrangelysmallwithoutit.Thenheturnedslowlyonthespot.

Harrywouldhavescreamed,buthecouldn’tmakeasound.Wherethereshouldhavebeenaback toQuirrell’shead, therewasa face, themost terriblefaceHarryhadeverseen.Itwaschalkwhitewithglaringredeyesandslitsfornostrils,likeasnake.

“HarryPotter…”itwhispered.Harrytriedtotakeastepbackwardbuthislegswouldn’tmove.“SeewhatIhavebecome?”thefacesaid.“Mereshadowandvapor….I

have formonlywhen I can shareanother’sbody…but therehavealwaysbeenthose willing to let me into their hearts and minds…Unicorn blood hasstrengthenedme,thesepastweeks…yousawfaithfulQuirrelldrinkingitformeintheforest…andonceIhavetheElixirofLife,Iwillbeabletocreateabodyofmyown….Now…whydon’tyougivemethatStoneinyourpocket?”

Soheknew.Thefeelingsuddenlysurgedback intoHarry’s legs.Hestumbledbackward.

“Don’tbeafool,”snarledtheface.“Bettersaveyourownlifeandjoinme…oryou’llmeet the sameendasyourparents…Theydiedbeggingme formercy…”

“LIAR!”Harryshoutedsuddenly.Quirrellwaswalkingbackwardathim,sothatVoldemortcouldstillsee

him.Theevilfacewasnowsmiling.“Howtouching…”ithissed.“Ialwaysvaluebravery….Yes,boy,your

parents were brave…I killed your father first; and he put up a courageous

fight…butyourmotherneedn’thavedied…shewastryingtoprotectyou…NowgivemetheStone,unlessyouwanthertohavediedinvain.”

“NEVER!”Harrysprangtowardtheflamedoor,butVoldemortscreamed“SEIZE

HIM!” and the next second, Harry felt Quirrell’s hand close on his wrist. Atonce,aneedle-sharppainsearedacrossHarry’sscar;hisheadfeltas thoughitwas about to split in two; he yelled, strugglingwith all hismight, and to hissurprise, Quirrell let go of him. The pain in his head lessened— he lookedaroundwildly to seewhereQuirrell had gone, and saw him hunched in pain,lookingathisfingers—theywereblisteringbeforehiseyes.

“Seize him! SEIZEHIM!” shrieked Voldemort again, and Quirrelllunged, knocking Harry clean off his feet landing on top of him, both handsaroundHarry’sneck—Harry’sscarwasalmostblindinghimwithpain,yethecouldseeQuirrellhowlinginagony.

“Master,Icannotholdhim—myhands—myhands!”AndQuirrell,thoughpinningHarrytothegroundwithhisknees,letgo

of his neck and stared, bewildered, at his ownpalms—Harry could see theylookedburned,raw,red,andshiny.

“Thenkillhim,fool,andbedone!”screechedVoldemort. Quirrell raised his hand to perform a deadly curse, but Harry, by

instinct,reachedupandgrabbedQuirrell’sface—“AAAARGH!” Quirrellrolledoffhim,hisfaceblistering,too,andthenHarryknew:

Quirrellcouldn’t touchhisbareskin,notwithoutsuffering terriblepain—hisonlychancewastokeepholdofQuirrell,keephiminenoughpaintostophimfromdoingacurse.

Harryjumpedtohisfeet,caughtQuirrellbythearm,andhungonastightashecould.QuirrellscreamedandtriedtothrowHarryoff—thepaininHarry’sheadwasbuilding—hecouldn’tsee—hecouldonlyhearQuirrell’sterribleshrieksandVoldemort’syellsof,“KILLHIM!KILLHIM!”andothervoices,maybeinHarry’sownhead,crying,“Harry!Harry!”

HefeltQuirrell’sarmwrenchedfromhisgrasp,knewallwaslost,andfellintoblackness,down…down…down….

Somethinggoldwasglintingjustabovehim.TheSnitch!Hetriedtocatchit,buthisarmsweretooheavy.

Heblinked. Itwasn’t theSnitchatall. Itwasapairofglasses.Howstrange.

Heblinkedagain.ThesmilingfaceofAlbusDumbledoreswaminto

viewabovehim.“Goodafternoon,Harry,”saidDumbledore. Harry stared at him. Then he remembered: “Sir! The Stone! Itwas

Quirrell!He’sgottheStone!Sir,quick—” “Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind the times,” said

Dumbledore.“QuirrelldoesnothavetheStone.”“Thenwhodoes?Sir,I—”“Harry,pleaserelax,orMadamPomfreywillhavemethrownout.”Harryswallowedandlookedaroundhim.Herealizedhemustbeinthe

hospitalwing.Hewas lying inabedwithwhite linen sheets, andnext tohimwasatablepiledhighwithwhatlookedlikehalfthecandyshop.

“Tokensfromyourfriendsandadmirers,”saidDumbledore,beaming.“WhathappeneddowninthedungeonsbetweenyouandProfessorQuirrellisacomplete secret, so, naturally, thewhole school knows. I believe your friendsMisters Fred and GeorgeWeasley were responsible for trying to send you atoilet seat. No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madam Pomfrey,however,feltitmightnotbeveryhygienic,andconfiscatedit.”

“HowlonghaveIbeeninhere?” “Three days.Mr. RonaldWeasley andMiss Granger will be most

relievedyouhavecomeround,theyhavebeenextremelyworried.”“Butsir,theStone—” “I see you are not to be distracted.Verywell, the Stone. Professor

Quirrell did notmanage to take it fromyou. I arrived in time to prevent that,althoughyouweredoingverywellonyourown,Imustsay.”

“Yougotthere?YougotHermione’sowl?”“Wemusthavecrossedinmidair.NosoonerhadIreachedLondonthan

it became clear tome that the place I should bewas the one I had just left. IarrivedjustintimetopullQuirrelloffyou.”

“Itwasyou.”“IfearedImightbetoolate.”“Younearlywere,Icouldn’thavekepthimofftheStonemuchlonger

–”“NottheStone,boy,you—theeffortinvolvednearlykilledyou.For

one terrible moment there, I was afraid it had. As for the Stone, it has beendestroyed.”

“Destroyed?”saidHarryblankly.“Butyourfriend—NicolasFlamel—”

“Oh, you know about Nicolas?” said Dumbledore, sounding quitedelighted.“Youdiddothethingproperly,didn’tyou?Well,NicolasandIhave

hadalittlechat,andagreedit’sallforthebest.”“Butthatmeansheandhiswifewilldie,won’tthey?”“TheyhaveenoughElixirstoredtosettheiraffairsinorderandthen,

yes,theywilldie.”DumbledoresmiledatthelookofamazementonHarry’sface.“Tooneasyoungasyou,I’msureitseemsincredible,buttoNicolas

andPerenelle,itreallyislikegoingtobedafteravery,verylongday.Afterall,tothewell-organizedmind,deathisbutthenextgreatadventure.Youknow,theStonewas really not such awonderful thing.Asmuchmoney and life as youcouldwant!Thetwothingsmosthumanbeingswouldchooseaboveall—thetrouble is,humansdohaveaknackofchoosingprecisely those things thatareworstforthem.”

Harrylaythere,lostforwords.Dumbledorehummedalittleandsmiledattheceiling.

“Sir?”saidHarry.“I’vebeenthinking…sir—eveniftheStone’sgone,Vol-,Imean,You-Know-Who—”

“CallhimVoldemort,Harry.Alwaysusethepropernameforthings.Fearofanameincreasesfearofthethingitself.”

“Yes,sir.Well,Voldemort’sgoingtotryotherwaysofcomingback,isn’the?Imean,hehasn’tgone,hashe?”

“No,Harry,hehasnot.Heisstillouttheresomewhere,perhapslookingfor another body to share…not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. He leftQuirrell to die; he shows just as littlemercy to his followers as his enemies.Nevertheless,Harry,while youmay only have delayed his return to power, itwill merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losingbattle next time— and if he is delayed again, and again,why, hemay neverreturntopower.”

Harrynodded,butstoppedquickly,becauseitmadehisheadhurt.Thenhesaid,“Sir,therearesomeotherthingsI’dliketoknow,ifyoucantellme…thingsIwanttoknowthetruthabout.…”

“Thetruth.”Dumbledoresighed.“Itisabeautifulandterriblething,andshould therefore be treated with great caution. However, I shall answer yourquestions unless I have a very good reason not to, inwhich case I beg you’llforgiveme.Ishallnot,ofcourse,lie.”

“Well…Voldemortsaidthatheonlykilledmymotherbecauseshetriedto stop him from killing me. But why would he want to kill me in the firstplace?”

Dumbledoresighedverydeeplythistime.“Alas,thefirstthingyouaskme,Icannottellyou.Nottoday.Notnow.

Youwillknow,oneday…putitfromyourmindfornow,Harry.Whenyouareolder…Iknowyouhatetohearthis…whenyouareready,youwillknow.”

AndHarryknewitwouldbenogoodtoargue.“Butwhycouldn’tQuirrelltouchme?”“Yourmotherdiedtosaveyou.IfthereisonethingVoldemortcannot

understand, it is love.Hedidn’t realize that loveaspowerfulasyourmother’sforyouleavesitsownmark.Notascar,novisiblesign…tohavebeenlovedsodeeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us someprotection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, andambition,sharinghissoulwithVoldemort,couldnottouchyouforthisreason.Itwasagonytotouchapersonmarkedbysomethingsogood.”

Dumbledore now became very interested in a bird out on thewindowsill,whichgaveHarry time todryhiseyeson thesheet.Whenhehadfoundhisvoiceagain,Harrysaid,“And the invisibilitycloak—doyouknowwhosentittome?”

“Ah—yourfatherhappenedtoleaveitinmypossession,andIthoughtyou might like it.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “Useful things…your fatheruseditmainlyforsneakingofftothekitchenstostealfoodwhenhewashere.”

“Andthere’ssomethingelse…”“Fireaway.”“QuirrellsaidSnape—”“ProfessorSnape,Harry.”“Yes,him—Quirrellsaidhehatesmebecausehehatedmyfather.Is

thattrue?” “Well, theydidratherdetesteachother.NotunlikeyourselfandMr.

Malfoy.Andthen,yourfatherdidsomethingSnapecouldneverforgive.”“What?”“Hesavedhislife.”“What?” “Yes…”saidDumbledoredreamily.“Funny,thewaypeople’sminds

work, isn’t it?ProfessorSnapecouldn’tbearbeing inyour father’sdebt…Idobelieve heworked so hard to protect you this year because he felt thatwouldmakehimandyourfathereven.Thenhecouldgobacktohatingyourfather’smemoryinpeace.…”

Harry tried to understand this but it made his head pound, so hestopped.

“Andsir,there’sonemorething…”“Justtheone?”“HowdidIgettheStoneoutofthemirror?”

“Ah,now,I’mgladyouaskedmethat.Itwasoneofmymorebrilliantideas,andbetweenyouandme,that’ssayingsomething.Yousee,onlyonewhowanted to find the Stone— find it, but not use it—would be able to get it,otherwisethey’djustseethemselvesmakinggoldordrinkingElixirofLife.Mybrain surprises even me sometimes…Now, enough questions. I suggest youmake a start on these sweets. Ah! Bettie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans! I wasunfortunateenoughinmyyouthtocomeacrossavomitflavoredone,andsincethenI’mafraidI’veratherlostmylikingforthem—butIthinkI’llbesafewithanicetoffee,don’tyou?”

Hesmiledandpoppedthegolden-brownbeanintohismouth.Thenhechokedandsaid,“Alas!Earwax!”

MadamPomfrey,thenurse,wasanicewoman,butverystrict.“Justfiveminutes,”Harrypleaded.“Absolutelynot.”“YouletProfessorDumbledorein….” “Well,ofcourse, thatwas theheadmaster,quitedifferent.Youneed

rest.” “I am resting, look, lying down and everything.Oh, go on,Madam

Pomfrey…”“Oh,verywell,”shesaid.“Butfiveminutesonly.”AndsheletRonandHermionein.“Harry!”Hermionelookedreadytoflingherarmsaroundhimagain,butHarry

wasgladsheheldherselfinashisheadwasstillverysore. “Oh,Harry,weweresureyouweregoing to—Dumbledorewasso

worried—” “The whole school’s talking about it,” said Ron. “What really

happened?” Itwasoneof those rareoccasionswhen the true story is evenmore

strangeandexcitingthanthewildrumors.Harrytoldthemeverything:Quirrell;the mirror; the Stone; and Voldemort. Ron and Hermione were a very goodaudience;theygaspedinalltherightplaces,andwhenHarrytoldthemwhatwasunderQuirrell’sturban,Hermionescreamedoutloud.

“SotheStone’sgone?”saidRonfinally.“Flamel’sjustgoingtodie?”“That’swhatIsaid,butDumbledorethinksthat—whatwasit?—‘to

thewell-organizedmind,deathisbutthenextgreatadventure.’”“Ialwayssaidhewasoffhisrocker,”saidRon,lookingquiteimpressed

athowcrazyhisherowas.

“Sowhathappenedtoyoutwo?”saidHarry. “Well,Igotbackallright,”saidHermione.“IbroughtRonround—

that took a while — and we were dashing up to the owlery to contactDumbledorewhenwemethimintheentrancehall—healreadyknew—hejustsaid,‘Harry’sgoneafterhim,hasn’the?’andhurtledofftothethirdfloor.”

“D’you thinkhemeant you to do it?” saidRon. “Sendingyouyourfather’scloakandeverything?”

“Well,”Hermioneexploded,“ifhedid—Imeantosaythat’sterrible—youcouldhavebeenkilled.”

“No,itisn’t,”saidHarrythoughtfully.“He’safunnyman,Dumbledore.I thinkhe sort ofwanted to giveme a chance. I thinkhe knowsmoreor lesseverythingthatgoesonhere,youknow.Ireckonhehadaprettygoodideaweweregoingtotry,andinsteadofstoppingus,hejusttaughtusenoughtohelp.Idon’t think itwas an accident he letme find out how themirrorworked. It’salmostlikehethoughtIhadtherighttofaceVoldemortifIcould….”

“Yeah, Dumbledore’s off his rocker, all right,” said Ron proudly.“Listen,you’vegottobeupfortheend-of-yearfeasttomorrow.ThepointsareallinandSlytherinwon,ofcourse—youmissedthelastQuidditchmatch,weweresteamrolleredbyRavenclawwithoutyou—butthefood’llbegood.”

Atthatmoment,MadamPomfreybustledover.“You’vehadnearlyfifteenminutes,nowOUT”shesaidfirmly.

Afteragoodnight’ssleep,Harryfeltnearlybacktonormal.Iwanttogotothefeast,”hetoldMadamPomfreyasshestraightened

hismanycandyboxes.Ican,can’tI?” “ProfessorDumbledore says you are to be allowed to go,” she said

stiffly,asthoughinheropinionProfessorDumbledoredidn’trealizehowriskyfeastscouldbe.“Andyouhaveanothervisitor.”

“Oh,good,”saidHarry.“Whoisit?” Hagrid sidled through the door as he spoke.As usualwhen hewas

indoors,Hagridlookedtoobigtobeallowed.HesatdownnexttoHarry,tookonelookathim,andburstintotears.

“It’s—all—my—ruddy—fault!”hesobbed,hisfaceinhishands.Itold the evil git how ter get past Fluffy! I told him! Itwas the only thing hedidn’tknow,an’Itoldhim!Yehcould’vedied!Allferadragonegg!I’llneverdrinkagain!Ishouldbechuckedoutan’madeterliveasaMuggle!”

“Hagrid!” saidHarry, shocked to seeHagrid shakingwithgrief andremorse,greattearsleakingdownintohisbeard.“Hagrid,he’dhavefoundoutsomehow, this isVoldemortwe’re talking about, he’d have found out even if

youhadn’ttoldhim.”“Yehcould’vedied!”sobbedHagrid.“An’don’saythename!” “VOLDEMORT!”Harry bellowed, andHagridwas so shocked, he

stoppedcrying.“I’vemethimandI’mcallinghimbyhisname.Pleasecheerup,Hagrid,wesaved theStone, it’sgone,hecan’tuse it.HaveaChocolateFrog,I’vegotloads.…”

Hagridwipedhisnoseonthebackofhishandandsaid,“Thatremindsme.I’vegotyehapresent.”

“It’s not a stoat sandwich, is it?” said Harry anxiously, and at lastHagridgaveaweakchuckle.

“Nah.Dumbledoregavemethedayoffyesterdayterfixit.‘course,heshouldasackedmeinstead—anyway,gotyehthis.…”

It seemed to be a handsome, leather-covered book.Harry opened itcuriously. Itwas full ofwizardphotographs.Smiling andwavingat him fromeverypagewerehismotherandfather.

“Sentowlsoffterallyerparents’oldschoolfriends,askin’ferphotos…knewyehdidn’haveany…d’yehlikeit?”

Harrycouldn’tspeak,butHagridunderstood.

Harrymadehiswaydowntotheend-of-yearfeastalonethatnight.HehadbeenheldupbyMadamPomfrey’s fussingabout, insistingongivinghimonelast checkup, so the Great Hall was already full. It was decked out in theSlytherin colorsofgreenand silver to celebrateSlytherin’swinning thehousecupfortheseventhyearinarow.AhugebannershowingtheSlytherinserpentcoveredthewallbehindtheHighTable.

WhenHarrywalkedintherewasasuddenhush,andtheneverybodystartedtalkingloudlyatonce.HeslippedintoaseatbetweenRonandHermioneattheGryffindortableandtriedtoignorethefactthatpeoplewerestandinguptolookathim.

Fortunately,Dumbledorearrivedmomentslater.Thebabblediedaway.“Anotheryeargone!”Dumbledoresaidcheerfully.“AndImusttrouble

you with an old man’s wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into ourdelicious feast.What a year it has been!Hopefully your heads are all a littlefullerthantheywere…youhavethewholesummeraheadtogetthemniceandemptybeforenextyearstarts.…

“Now,asIunderstandit,thehousecuphereneedsawarding,andthepoints stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelvepoints; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw hasfourhundredandtwenty-sixandSlytherin,fourhundredandseventy-two.”

AstormofcheeringandstampingbrokeoutfromtheSlytherintable.HarrycouldseeDracoMalfoybanginghisgobletonthetable.Itwasasickeningsight.

“Yes,Yes,welldone,Slytherin,”saidDumbledore.“However,recenteventsmustbetakenintoaccount.”

Theroomwentverystill.TheSlytherins’smilesfadedalittle.“Ahem,”saidDumbledore.“Ihaveafewlast-minutepointstodishout.

Letmesee.Yes…“First—toMr.RonaldWeasley…”Ronwentpurpleintheface;helookedlikearadishwithabadsunburn.“…forthebest-playedgameofchessHogwartshasseeninmanyyears,

IawardGryffindorhousefiftypoints.” Gryffindor cheers nearly raised the bewitched ceiling; the stars

overheadseemedtoquiver.Percycouldbeheardtellingtheotherprefects,“Mybrother, you know!My youngest brother! Got pastMcGonagall’s giant chessset!”

Atlasttherewassilenceagain.“Second—toMissHermioneGranger…fortheuseofcoollogicinthe

faceoffire,IawardGryffindorhousefiftypoints.”Hermioneburiedherfaceinherarms;Harrystronglysuspectedshehad

burst into tears.Gryffindorsupanddown the tablewerebeside themselves—theywereahundredpointsup.

“Third—toMr.HarryPotter…”saidDumbledore.Theroomwentdeadly quiet. “…for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindorhousesixtypoints.”

The din was deafening. Those who could add up while yellingthemselveshoarseknewthatGryffindornowhadfourhundredandseventy-twopoints—exactly thesameasSlytherin.Theyhad tied for thehousecup—ifonlyDumbledorehadgivenHarryjustonemorepoint.

Dumbledoreraisedhishand.Theroomgraduallyfellsilent.“Thereareallkindsofcourage,”saidDumbledore,smiling.“Ittakesa

greatdealofbraverytostanduptoourenemies,butjustasmuchtostanduptoourfriends.IthereforeawardtenpointstoMr.NevilleLongbottom.”

SomeonestandingoutsidetheGreatHallmightwellhavethoughtsomesortof explosionhad takenplace, so loudwas thenoise that erupted from theGryffindor table. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood up to yell and cheer asNeville,whitewithshock,disappearedunderapileofpeoplehugginghim.Hehadneverwonsomuchasapoint forGryffindorbefore.Harry, stillcheering,nudgedRonintheribsandpointedatMalfoy,whocouldn’thavelookedmore

stunnedandhorrifiedifhe’djusthadtheBody-BindCurseputonhim. “Whichmeans,”Dumbledore called over the stormof applause, for

evenRavenclawandHufflepuffwerecelebratingthedownfallofSlytherin,“weneedalittlechangeofdecoration.”

Heclappedhishands.Inaninstant,thegreenhangingsbecamescarletandthesilverbecamegold;thehugeSlytherinserpentvanishedandatoweringGryffindorliontookitsplace.SnapewasshakingProfessorMcGonagall’shand,withahorrible,forcedsmile.HecaughtHarry’seyeandHarryknewatoncethatSnape’sfeelingstowardhimhadn’tchangedonejot.Thisdidn’tworryHarry.Itseemedasthoughlifewouldbebacktonormalnextyear,orasnormalasiteverwasatHogwarts.

ItwasthebesteveningofHarry’slife,betterthanwinningatQuidditch,or Christmas, or knocking out mountain trolls…he would never, ever forgettonight.

Harry had almost forgotten that the exam results were still to come, butcometheydid.Totheirgreatsurprise,bothheandRonpassedwithgoodmarks;Hermione,ofcourse,hadthebestgradesofthefirstyears.EvenNevillescrapedthrough,hisgoodHerbologymarkmakingupforhisabysmalPotionsone.Theyhad hoped that Goyle, who was almost as stupid as he was mean, might bethrownout,buthehadpassed,too.Itwasashame,butasRonsaid,youcouldn’thaveeverythinginlife.

Andsuddenly,theirwardrobeswereempty,theirtrunkswerepacked,Neville’stoadwasfoundlurkinginacornerofthetoilets;noteswerehandedouttoallstudents,warningthemnottousemagicovertheholidays(“Ialwayshopethey’ll forget togiveus these,” saidFredWeasleysadly);Hagridwas there totake them down to the fleet of boats that sailed across the lake; they wereboardingtheHogwartsExpress;talkingandlaughingasthecountrysidebecamegreener and tidier; eating Bettie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans as they sped pastMuggle towns;pullingoff theirwizardrobesandputtingon jacketsandcoats;pullingintoplatformnineandthree-quartersatKing’sCrossStation.

Ittookquiteawhileforthemalltogetofftheplatform.Awizenedoldguardwasupbytheticketbarrier,lettingthemgothroughthegateintwosandthreessotheydidn’tattractattentionbyallburstingoutofasolidwallatonceandalarmingtheMuggles.

“Youmustcomeandstaythissummer,”saidRon,“bothofyou—I’llsendyouanowl.”

“Thanks,”saidHarry,“I’llneedsomethingtolookforwardto.”Peoplejostled them as they moved forward toward the gateway back to theMuggle

world.Someofthemcalled:“Bye,Harry!”“Seeyou,Potter!”“Stillfamous,”saidRon,grinningathim.“NotwhereI’mgoing,Ipromiseyou,”saidHarry.He,Ron,andHermionepassedthroughthegatewaytogether.“Therehe

is,Mom,thereheis,look!”ItwasGinnyWeasley,Ron’syoungersister,butshewasn’tpointingat

Ron.“HarryPotter!”shesquealed.“Look,Mom!Icansee—”“Bequiet,Ginny,andit’srudetopoint.”Mrs.Weasleysmileddownatthem.“Busyyear?”shesaid. “Very,” said Harry. “Thanks for the fudge and the sweater, Mrs.

Weasley.”“Oh,itwasnothing,dear.”“Ready,areyou?” ItwasUncleVernon,stillpurple-faced,stillmustached,still looking

furious at the nerve of Harry, carrying an owl in a cage in a station full ofordinarypeople.BehindhimstoodAuntPetuniaandDudley,lookingterrifiedattheverysightofHarry.

“YoumustbeHarry’sfamily!”saidMrs.Weasley. “In amanner of speaking,” saidUncleVernon. “Hurry up, boy,we

haven’tgotallday.”Hewalkedaway.HarryhungbackforalastwordwithRonandHermione.“Seeyouoverthesummer,then.” “Hope you have— er— a good holiday,” saidHermione, looking

uncertainlyafterUncleVernon,shockedthatanyonecouldbesounpleasant. “Oh,Iwill,”saidHarry,andtheyweresurprisedat thegrinthatwas

spreadingover his face. “Theydon’t knowwe’re not allowed to usemagic athome.I’mgoingtohavealotoffunwithDudleythissummer.…

TableofContentsHP1-HarryPotterandtheSorcerer'sStoneCHAPTERONECHAPTERTWOCHAPTERTHREECHAPTERFOURCHAPTERFIVECHAPTERSIXCHAPTERSEVENCHAPTEREIGHTCHAPTERNINECHAPTERTENCHAPTERELEVENCHAPTERTWELVECHAPTERTHIRTEENCHAPTERFOURTEENCHAPTERFIFTEENCHAPTERSIXTEENCHAPTERSEVENTEEN