Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (Harry Potter, #1)

by J.K. Rowling

Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer,

“It’s lucky it’s dark. I haven’t blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs.”

“Ah, shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune,”

He had decided to call her Hedwig, a name he had found in A History of Magic.

“I’m not Fred, I’m George,” said the boy. “Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can’t you tell I’m George?”

“Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it,” said the other twin. “Once —” “Or twice —” “A minute —” “All summer —”

“You’ve already seen him, Ginny, and the poor boy isn’t something you goggle at in a zoo.

“Poor dear — no wonder he was alone, I wondered. He was ever so polite when he asked how to get onto the platform.”

“All right, keep your hair on.”

He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, “GOT YOUR CONK!”

don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. . . . I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.” More silence followed this little speech.

“I think Hermione does, though, why don’t you try her?”

“For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren’t you all copying that down?”

Wood? thought Harry, bewildered; was Wood a cane she was going to use on him?

“And it’s really thanks to Malfoy here that I’ve got it,” he added.

“I thought you weren’t speaking to us?” said Harry. “Yes, don’t stop now,” said Ron, “it’s doing us so much good.”

“Don’t worry, the Weasleys are more than a match for the Bludgers — I mean, they’re like a pair of human Bludgers themselves.”

But from that moment on, Hermione Granger became their friend. There are some things you can’t share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll is one of them.

The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban.

Harry played with chessmen Seamus Finnigan had lent him, and they didn’t trust him at all. He wasn’t a very good player yet and they kept shouting different bits of advice at him, which was confusing. “Don’t send me there, can’t you see his knight? Send him, we can afford to lose him.”

“Harry’s is better than ours, though,” said Fred, holding up Harry’s sweater. “She obviously makes more of an effort if you’re not family.”

Harry watched Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who, to Harry’s amazement, giggled and blushed, her top hat lopsided.

“Pretend to break your leg,” Hermione suggested. “Really break your leg,” said Ron.

“You’re worth twelve of Malfoy,” Harry said. “The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn’t it? And where’s Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin.”

“The what?” said Harry and Ron. “Oh, honestly, don’t you two read? Look — read that, there.”

The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Sorcerer’s Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The Stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal.

Little did Harry know that Ron and Hermione had been secretly practicing the Leg-Locker Curse. They’d gotten the idea from Malfoy using it on Neville, and were ready to use it on Snape if he showed any sign of wanting to hurt Harry.

“I’m worth twelve of you, Malfoy,” he stammered. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle howled with laughter, but Ron, still not daring to take his eyes from the game, said, “You tell him, Neville.”

He couldn’t ever remember feeling happier. He’d really done something to be proud of now — no one could say he was just a famous name any more. The evening air had never smelled so sweet.

“So you mean the Stone’s only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?” said Hermione in alarm. “It’ll be gone by next Tuesday,” said Ron.

“Charlie,” he said. “You’re losing it, too,” said Ron. “I’m Ron, remember?”

Harry caught Neville’s eye and tried to tell him without words that this wasn’t true, because Neville was looking stunned and hurt. Poor, blundering Neville — Harry knew what it must have cost him to try and find them in the dark, to warn them.

“You are the Potter boy,” he said. “You had better get back to Hagrid. The forest is not safe at this time — especially for you. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way. “My name is Firenze,” he added, as he lowered himself on to his front legs so that Harry could clamber onto his back.

The Weasley twins and Lee Jordan were tickling the tentacles of a giant squid, which was basking in the warm shallows.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit odd,” said Harry, scrambling up the grassy slope, “that what Hagrid wants more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket? How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it’s against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, don’t you think? Why didn’t I see it before?”

“It’s obvious,” said Ron. “You can pretend to be waiting for Professor Flitwick, you know.” He put on a high voice, “‘Oh Professor Flitwick, I’m so worried, I think I got question fourteen b wrong. . . .’” “Oh, shut up,” said Hermione, but she agreed to go and watch out for Snape.

“I’ll use the Invisibility Cloak,” said Harry. “It’s just lucky I got it back.” “But will it cover all three of us?” said Ron. “All — all three of us?” “Oh, come off it, you don’t think we’d let you go alone?”

“HAVE YOU GONE MAD?” Ron bellowed. “ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?”

“Lucky you pay attention in Herbology, Hermione,” said Harry as he joined her by the wall, wiping sweat off his face. “Yeah,” said Ron, “and lucky Harry doesn’t lose his head in a crisis —‘there’s no wood,’ honestly.”

“We’ve had Sprout’s, that was the Devil’s Snare; Flitwick must’ve put charms on the keys; McGonagall transfigured the chessmen to make them alive; that leaves Quirrell’s spell, and Snape’s . . .”

“Me!” said Hermione. “Books! And cleverness! There are more important things — friendship and bravery and — oh Harry — be careful!”

“What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows. I believe your friends Misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a toilet seat. No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madam Pomfrey, however, felt it might not be very hygienic, and confiscated it.”

“Call him Voldemort, Harry. Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself.”

“The truth.” Dumbledore sighed. “It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution. However,

to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good.”

“Professor Snape, Harry.” “Yes, him —

You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone — find it, but not use it — would be able to get it, otherwise they’d just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life.

‘to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.’” “I always said he was off his rocker,” said Ron, looking quite impressed at how crazy his hero was.

Hagrid looked too big to be allowed. He sat down next to Harry, took one look at him, and burst into tears.

It was full of wizard photographs. Smiling and waving at him from every page were his mother and father. “Sent owls off ter all yer parents’ old school friends, askin’ fer photos . . . knew yeh didn’ have any . . . d’yeh like it?” Harry couldn’t speak, but Hagrid understood.