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Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone J.K. Rowling

Chapter One: The Boy Who Lived Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you’d expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn’t hold with such nonsense. Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large moustache. Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors. The Dursley's had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere. The Dursley's had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn’t think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters. Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley’s sister, but they hadn’t met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn’t have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as un-Dursleyish as it was possible to be. The Dursley's shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived in the street. The Dursley's knew that the Potters had a small son too, but they had never even seen him. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn’t want Dudley mixing with a child like that. When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, grey Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar – a cat reading a map. For a second, Mr. Dursley didn’t realize what he had seen – then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn’t a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr. Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive – no, looking at the sign; cats couldn’t read maps or signs. Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove towards town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day. But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn’t help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks. Mr. Dursley couldn’t bear people who dressed in funny clothes – the get-ups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdoes standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren’t young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak! The nerve of him! But then it struck Mr. Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt – these people were obviously collecting for something ... yes, that would be it. The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley arrived in the Grunnings car park, his mind back on drills. Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn’t, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. He didn’t see the owls though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime. Mr Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more. He was in a very good mood until lunch-time, when he thought he’d stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the baker’s opposite. He’d forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker’s. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn’t know why, but they made him uneasy. This lot were whispering excitedly, too, and he 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 few words of what they were saying. ‘The Potters, that’s right, that’s what I heard –’ ‘ – yes, their son, Harry –’ Mr. Dursley stopped dead. Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it. He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone and had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his moustache, thinking ... no, he was being stupid. Potter wasn’t such an unusual name. He was sure there were lots of people called Potter who had a son called Harry. Come to think of it, he wasn’t even sure his nephew was called Harry. He’d never even seen the boy. It might have been Harvey. Or Harold. There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley, she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn’t blame her – if he’d had a sister like that ... but all the same, those people in cloaks… He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door. "Sorry" he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr. Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. In a squeaky voice the man replied "Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day! And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off. Mrs. Dursley had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learned a new word ("Won't"). Mr. Dursley tired to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living-room in time to catch the last report on the evening news: ‘And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation’s owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern.’ The news reader allowed himself a grin. ‘Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?’ ‘Well, Ted,’ said the weatherman, ‘I don’t know about that, but it’s not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they’ve had a downpour of shooting stars! Mr. Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters ...Mrs. Dursley came into the living-room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He’d have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. ‘Er – Petunia, dear – you haven’t heard from your sister lately, have you?’ As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn’t have a sister. ‘No,’ she said sharply. ‘Why?’ ‘Funny stuff on the news,’ Mr. Dursley mumbled. ‘Owls ... shooting stars ... and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today ...’ ‘So?’ snapped Mrs. Dursley. ‘Well, I just thought ... maybe ... it was something to do with ... you know ... her lot.’ Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he’d heard the name ‘Potter’. He decided he didn’t dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, ‘Their son – he’d be about Dudley’s age now, wouldn’t he?’ ‘I suppose so,’ said Mrs. Dursley stiffly. ‘What’s his name again? Howard, isn’t it?’ ‘Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me.’ ‘Oh, yes,’ said Mr. Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. ‘Yes, I quite agree.’ Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did ... if it got out that they were related to a pair of – well, he didn’t think he could bear it. The Dursley's got into bed. Mrs. Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr. Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Potters were involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Dursley. The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about them and their kind…He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on - he yawned and turned over - it couldn’t affect them…

How very wrong he was. Mr. Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn’t so much as quiver when a car door slammed in the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all. A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you’d have thought he’d just popped out of the ground. The cat’s tail twitched and its eyes narrowed. Nothing like this man had ever been seen in Privet Drive. He was tall, thin and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak which swept the ground and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man’s name was Albus Dumbledore.

Dumbledore: I should have known that you would be here...Professor McGonagall.

[The cat meows. Slowly it transfigures into Professor Minerva McGonagall]

McGonagall: Good evening, Professor Dumbledore. Are the rumors true?

Dumbledore: I'm afraid so, Professor. The good, and the bad.

McGonagall: And the boy?

Dumbledore: Hagrid is bringing him.

McGonagall: Do you think it wise to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?

Albus: Ah, Professor, I would trust Hagrid with my life.

McGonagall: I've been watching all day as you asked.

Dumbledore: All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here. Would you care for a Lemon Drop?

McGonagall: A what?

Dumbledore: A Lemon drop. They’re a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of.

McGonagall: Thank you, but no….Albus, if You-Know-Who has gone…

Dumbledore: My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this "You-Know-Who" nonsense -- For eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort. I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name.

McGonagall: I know you haven't. But you’re different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know-Who…oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of.

Dumbledore: You flatter me. Voldemort had powers I will never have.

McGonagall: Only because you're too - well - noble to use them!

Dumbledore: It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs.

[In the distance an engine revs. It comes from the sky. The two professors look up to see a flying motorcycle coming down from the air. It skids on the street and halts. A large man, Rubeus Hagrid, steps off the flying motorcycle, takes off his goggles, and approaches the professors with a baby swaddled in cloth.]

Hagrid: Professor Dumbledore, Sir. Professor McGonagall.

Dumbledore: No problems, I trust, Hagrid?

Hagrid: No, sir. Little tyke fell asleep just as we were flying over Bristol. Try not to wake him. There you go.

McGonagall: Albus, do you really think its safe, leaving him with these people? I've been watching them all day. They're the worst sort of Muggles imaginable. They are…

Dumbledore: The only family he has.

McGonagall: This boy will be famous. There won’t be a child in our world who doesn't know his name.

Dumbledore: Exactly. He's better off growing up away from all that. Until he is ready.

[Hagrid nods. Dumbledore takes a letter and places it on the baby, who is now at the foot of the door. The baby has a visible lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead.]

McGonagall: Is that where…?

Dumbledore: Yes. He'll have that scar forever.

McGonagall: Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?

Dumbledore: Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy.

[Hagrid coughs and sniffles, he is crying. He clears his throat.]

Hagrid: Could I say goodbye to him, sir?

[Hagrid, the half-giant, shaggy with a mane of hair and beard, bends over the baby and gives him a kiss.]

Dumbledore: There, there, Hagrid. It's not really good-bye, after all.

[The three turn to leave. Hagrid soars into the sky on his motorcycle. McGonagall disapparates. Dumbledore is last to leave.]

Dumbledore: Good luck...Harry Potter. Chapter Two – The Vanishing Glass [Ten Years later, 11 year old Harry sleeps in a cupboard under the stairs. Petunia (Mrs. Dursley) angrily knocks to wake him.]

Petunia: Up. Get up. Now! {Smacks door}

[A large, tubby boy, Dudley Dursley, suddenly comes running down the stairs above the cupboard. He stops half-way down and stomps on the staircase making dust fall onto Harry's head inside the cupboard.]

Dudley: Wake up, stupid! It’s my birthday!

Petunia: Oh, here he comes, the birthday boy!

Dudley: We’re going to the zoo, but you can’t come, Potter…

Petunia: Actually Dudy-kins…Mrs. Figg has broken her leg and can’t watch him. He’ll be coming with us. [Dudley bursts into big, fake tears as he throws himself on the floor. Petunia glares at Harry as if it is his fault.]

Vernon: Happy birthday, son.

Petunia: {to Harry} Why don't you just cook the breakfast, and try not to burn anything.

Harry: Yes, Aunt Petunia.

Vernon: Hurry up! Bring my coffee, boy!

Harry: Yes, Uncle Vernon.

Dudley: How many presents did you get me?

Vernon: Thirty-six. Counted 'em myself.

Dudley: Thirty-six?! But last year I got thirty-seven!!!

Vernon: Yes, well, some of them are quite a bit bigger than last year!

Dudley: I don't care how big they are!

Petunia: Oh, now, now, now. This is what we're going to do. When we go out we're going to buy you two new presents! How's that, Pumpkin? [After breakfast, the family heads to the car. Harry goes to get in but is stopped by Vernon.]

Vernon: I'm warning you now, boy. Any funny business, any at all, and you won't have any meals for a week. Get in.

[At the zoo, the family is in the reptile house, looking at a large Boa Constrictor.]

Dudley: Make it move. {Vernon taps the glass.}

Vernon: Move! {Dudley pounds harder}

Dudley: MOVE!

Harry: He's sleeping!

Dudley: He's boring. {Dudley and the family exit}

Harry: Sorry. He doesn't understand what it's like, lying there day after day, having people press their ugly faces in on you.

[The snake looks up and blinks.]

Harry: Can you...hear me? {The snake nods} It's just...I've never talked to a snake before. Do you...I mean...do you talk to people often? {The snake shakes its head, no} You're from Burma, aren't you? Was it nice there, do you miss your family? {The snake turns its head in the direction of a sign which says, Bred in Captivity} I see. That's me as well. I never knew my parents, either.

Dudley: Mummy, Daddy, come here! You won't believe what this snake is doing!!

[Dudley pushes Harry out of the way. He falls to the ground. Harry glares at Dudley. Suddenly the glass disappears and Dudley falls into the tank with the snake. The snake slithers out of the enclosure and says “Thankssssssss.”]

Harry: Anytime.

[There is a lot of screaming as the snake heads for freedom. Dudley stands up to get out, but the glass has now reappeared over the enclosure. He is stuck. He pounds the glass and screams. Later on at Number 4 Privet Drive (The Dursley's home) Petunia and a bundled up Dudley walk in to the house. Vernon stops Harry.]

Vernon: What happened?

Harry: I swear I don't know! One minute the glass was there and then it was gone! It was like magic!

Vernon: There's no such thing as magic! Chapter Three – The Letters from No One [Outside number 4 Privet Drive, an owl flies by the house and drops a letter, which zooms in the letterbox. The owl lands away from the house and hoots. Inside, Harry goes to collect the mail. He sorts through letters and sees one addressed… Mr. H. Potter The Cupboard Under the Stairs 4 Privet Drive Little Whinging, Surrey He goes into the kitchen, hands Vernon the rest of the mail, and walks around the other side of the table to open his letter.]

Dudley: Dad, look! Harry's got a letter!! {Grabs it away from Harry}

Harry: Hey, give it back! It's mine!

Vernon: {Laughs} Yours? Who'd be writing to you? {Opens letter} Oh, no…Petunia look!

[Vernon and Petunia quickly read the letter. Both have looks of terror on their faces. Vernon rips the letter into shreds. The next day, six owls with six letters arrive at number 4 Privet Drive. Each delivers their letter addressed to Mr. H. Potter. Vernon grabs a handful of letters and rips them up.]

Harry: Where’s my letter? Who’s writing to me?

Vernon: No one. It was addressed to you by mistake. I have burned them

Harry: It was not a mistake! It had my cupboard on it.

Vernon: SILENCE! Now Harry, about this cupboard. Your aunt and I have been thinking…you’re really getting a bit big for it…we think it might be nice if you moved into Dudley’s second bedroom.

Dudley: But daddy I need that bedroom. You can’t give him my second bedroom!

[Despite Dudley’s protests, Harry moves his stuff to the bedroom. He sighs and stretches out on the bed. Yesterday he’d have given anything to be up here. Today he’d rather be back in his cupboard with the letter than up here without it.]

Vernon: Fine day Sunday. In my opinion, best day of the week. Why is that, Dudley? {Dudley shrugs stupidly.}

Harry: Because there's no mail on Sunday?

Vernon: Ah, right you are, Harry. No post on Sunday. Hah! No blasted letters today. No, sir. [Harry peers out the window. Outside, hundreds of owls are perched. Suddenly, letters shoot out of the fireplace and zip across the room. It quickly fills up with hundreds of scattered letters. Harry attempts to grab one, but is tackled by Vernon.]

Vernon: Give me that! Give me that letter!

Harry: Get off! No! Get off me! They're my letters! Let go of me! Vernon: That's it! We're going away! Far away! Where they can't find us!

Dudley: Daddy's gone mad, hasn’t he mummy?!

Chapter Four – The Keeper of Keys [A house, on a rock island somewhere out at sea. The family is sleeping, with Harry on the cold, dirt floor. He has drawn a birthday cake in the dust of the floor which reads Happy Birthday Harry. Harry looks at Dudley's watch, which beeps 12:00am]

Harry: Make a wish, Harry. {Blows out the dust candles}

[Suddenly, the door thumps. Harry jumps. The door thumps again and Dudley and Harry jump up and back away. Petunia and Vernon appear, Vernon with a gun. The door bangs again and then cracks open, and a giant man with a shaggy bread and mane of hair stands like a half-giant in the wind and rain outside. He enters.]

Vernon: Who's there? Ahhhhh!

Hagrid: Sorry 'bout that.

Vernon: I demand that you leave at once, Sir! You are breaking and entering!

Hagrid: Dry up, Dursley, you great prune. {Hagrid bends the barrel of the gun in half with his massive hands} ‘ello Harry! Got something for ya. 'Fraid I mighta sat on it at some point! I 'magine that it'll taste fine just da same. Baked me myself. {Hands Harry a pink frosting cake}

Harry: Thank you! {Opens box to look at the cake, which reads: Happee Birdae Harry.}

Hagrid: It's not every day that a young man turns eleven, now is it?

[Hagrid sits down on the couch, takes out an umbrella and points it at the empty fire. Poof, poof! Two sparks fly out and the fire starts. The family gasps in amazement.]

Harry: Excuse me, who are you?

Hagrid: Rubeus Hagrid. Keeper of keys and grounds at Hogwarts. Course, you'll know all 'bout Hogwarts.

Harry: Sorry, no.

Hagrid: No? Blimey, 'Arry, didn't ya ever wonder where yer mum and dad learned it all?

Harry: Learnt what?

Hagrid: You're a wizard, Harry. And a thumping good one at that, I'd wager. Once you train up a little.

Harry: No, you've made a mistake. I can't be...a-a wizard. I mean, I'm just...just Harry. Just Harry.

Hagrid: Well, Just Harry, did you ever make anything happen? Anything you couldn't explain when you were angry or scared?

Harry: {Takes letter from Hagrid} Dear, Mr. Potter. We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! Vernon: He’ll not be going! We swore when we took him in we’d put an end to this rubbish!

Harry: You knew?? You knew all along and you never told me?

Petunia: Of course we knew. How could you not be? My perfect sister being who she was. Oh, my mother and father were so proud the day she got her letter. We have a witch in the family. Isn't it wonderful? I was the only one to see her for what she was. A freak! And then she met that Potter, and then she had you, and I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as ... abnormal. And then, she went and got herself blown up! And we got stuck with you.

Harry: Blown up? You told me my parents died in a car crash!

Hagrid: A car crash? A car crash killed James and Lily Potter? It's an outrage! It's a scandal!

Vernon: He'll not be going!

Hagrid: Oh, and I suppose a great Muggle like yourself's gonna to stop him?

Harry: Muggle?

Hagrid: Muggle means non-magic folk. This boy's had his name down ever since he was born! He's going to the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world, and he'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts' has ever seen: Albus Dumbledore.

Vernon: I will not pay for some crackpot old fool to teach him magic tricks!

Hagrid: {In a very serious tone} Never… Insult... Albus Dumbledore in front of me.

[Hagrid sees Dudley eating Harry's cake, and points the umbrella at his bottom. Magically, Dudley grows a pig’s tail. He screams and Vernon and Petunia chase him around the shack.]

Hagrid: Oh, um, I'd appreciate if you didn't tell anyone at Hogwarts about that. Strictly speaking, I'm not allowed to do magic.

Harry: Okay. Chapter Five – Diagon Alley [Taking a boat to get back to London, soon Hagrid and Harry are walking through the city streets. They stop at a shady old restaurant named The Leaky Cauldron. Harry longs to know more about his parent’s death.]

Harry: {reading the school supply list} All students must be equipped with...one standard size two pewter cauldron and may bring if they desire an owl, a cat or a toad. Can we find all this in London?

Hagrid: If you know where to go.

[As they enter the Leaky Cauldron all commotion inside stops. Everyone is silent, staring at Harry. He hides behind Hagrid]

Flitwick: Bless my soul. That’s Harry Potter!

Dean Thomas: I’m Dean Thomas, Mr. Potter. I can't believe I'm meeting you at last!

[A man in robes with a turban on his head appears. It is Professor Quirrell]

Quirrell: Harry P-p-p-potter. C-can't tell you how pleased I am to m-m-meet you.

Hagrid: Hello, Professor. I didn't see you there. Harry, this is Professor Quirrell. He'll be your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts.

Harry: Oh, nice to meet you. {Puts out hand. Quirrell refuses to shake it, backing away nervously} Quirrell: F-fearfully fascinating subject. N-not that you need it, e-eh, Potter?

Hagrid: See, Harry, you're famous! Harry: But why am I famous, Hagrid? All those people back there, how is it they know who I am?

Hagrid: I'm not exactly sure I'm the right person to tell you that, Harry. But welcome, Harry, to Diagon Alley. Here's where you'll get your quills and ink, and over there all your bits and bobs for doing your wizardry.

Harry: But Hagrid, how am I to pay for all this? I haven't any money.

Hagrid: Well there's your money, Harry. Gringotts, the Wizard Bank. T'aint no place safer, 'cept perhaps Hogwarts.

Harry: {Inside bank} Uh, Hagrid, what exactly are those things?

Hagrid: They're goblins, Harry. Clever as they come goblins but not the friendliest of beasts. Best stick close to me. Mr. Harry Potter wishes to make a withdrawal.

Griphook: And does Mr. Harry Potter have his key?

Hagrid: Oh. Wait a minute. Got it here somewhere. Hah. Here's the little devil. Oh, and there's something else as well. Professor Dumbledore gave me this. It's about you-know-what in vault you-know-which.

Griphook: Very well. {Soon they are racing down a track in caverns deep underground.} Vault 687. Key please.

[Griphook opens the vault. The room is filled nearly top to bottom with coins. Harry is amazed.]

Hagrid: Didn't think your mum and dad would leave you with nothing, now didja? {Harry takes some money and they continue}

Griphook: Vault 713.

Harry: What's in there, Hagrid?

Hagrid: Can't tell you, Harry. It's Hogwarts business. Very secret.

Griphook: Stand back. {The vault opens to expose a small white stone package. Hagrid hurries in and scoops it up.}

Harry: {Outside the bank they continue to shop} I still need...a wand.

Hagrid: A wand? Well, you'll want Ollivander's. No place better. Run along there. I just got one more thing I got to do.

Harry: {entering the wand shop} Hello? Hello?

Ollivander: I wondered when I'd be seeing you, Mr. Potter. It seems only yesterday that your mother and father were in here buying their first wands. {Picks a wand} Ah. Here we are. {Harry holds it but just stands there…} Well, give it a wave.

Harry: Oh, okay. {But before he can even wave it, Ollivander grabs it from him.}

Ollivander: Clearly wrong. Try this. {Hands another wand to Harry which he waves and it makes boxes crash in the room}

Ollivander: Apparently not…Perhaps this one. {Harry waves at a vase, which blows apart.} No, no, definitely not! No matter... {gets yet another wand} I wonder. {Hands wand to Harry. Room glows as Harry takes hold of it} Curious, very curious.

Harry: Sorry, but what's curious?

Ollivander: I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. It just so happens that the Phoenix, whose tail feather resides in your wand gave one other feather. It is curious that you should be destined for this wand when its brother gave you that scar. Harry: And...who owned that wand?

Ollivander: Oh, we do not speak his name. The wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Potter. It's not always clear why, but I think it is clear that we can expect great things from you. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things...terrible, yes, but great.

Hagrid: Harry! Harry! Happy birthday! {Has a snowy white owl in a cage which hoots playfully.}

Harry: Wow. {Harry names the pet owl, Hedwig}

Hagrid: You all right, Harry? You seem very quiet.

Harry: He killed my parents, didn't he? The one who gave me this scar. You know, Hagrid, I know you do.

Hagrid: Not all wizards are good. Some of them go bad. A few years ago there was one wizard who went as bad as you can go. And his name was Voldemort. It was dark times, Harry, dark times. Voldemort started to gather some followers, brought 'em over to the dark side. Anyone that stood up to him ended up dead. Your parents fought against him, but nobody lived once he decided to kill 'em. Nobody...not one. ‘Cept fer you.

Harry: Me? Voldemort tried to kill...me?

Hagrid: Yea. Dat ain't no ordinary cut on yer forehead, Harry. A mark like that only comes from being touched by an evil curse.

Harry: What happened to Vol-...to You-Know-Who?

Hagrid: Some say he died. Codswallop in my opinion. Nope, I reckon he's still out there, too tired to go on. But one thing's certain. Something about you stumped him that night. That's why you're famous, Harry. That's why everybody knows your name. You're the boy who lived.

Chapter Six – The Journey from Platform Nine and Three- Quarters [In a London train station, Harry (with cart and owl) walks beside Hagrid.]

Hagrid: Blimey, is that the time? Sorry, Harry, I'm gonna have to leave you. Dumbledore'll be wanting his...well, he'll be wanting to see me. Now, yer train leaves in 10 minutes. Here's yer ticket. Stick to it, Harry that's very important. Stick to your ticket.

Harry: {Looking at the ticket} Platform 9 and 3 quarters? But Hagrid, there must be a mistake. This says Platform 9 ¾. There's no such thing...is there? {Harry looks up and Hagrid has vanished.}

Trainmaster: All-Aboard! Connections to Surrey and Bristol. Having your tickets ready!

Harry: Excuse me, sir…

Trainmaster: Platform 7? It's on your left, ma'am.

Harry: Excuse me, Sir. Can you tell me where I might find Platform 9 ¾?

Trainmaster: 9 ¾? Think you're being funny, do ya? Get outta here kid…

Mrs. Weasley: It's the same year after year. Always packed with Muggles, of course.

Harry: Did she just say “Muggles”?

Mrs. Weasley: Come on. Platform 9 ¾ this way! All right, Percy, you first. {A tall boy with red hair comes forward and runs towards a brick wall. Amazingly, he disappears right into it as if it is a portal.} Ginny Weasley (daughter): Mommy, when do I get to go to Hogwarts?

Mrs. Weasley: Next year, Ginny…ok Fred, you go next. Harry: Excuse me! Could you tell me how to…

Mrs. Weasley: How to get on the platform? Yes, not to worry, dear. It's Ron's first time to Hogwarts as well. {Next to her stands her son Ronald, a red haired boy with freckles} All you've got to do is walk straight at the wall between platforms 9 and 10.

Ginny: Good luck.

[Harry takes a breath and runs at the wall. He shuts his eyes and emerges on the other side. A magnificent station with a red train and dozens of people appear with a gleaming, puffing, red train. Later, on the train Harry sits alone in a compartment.]

Ron: Excuse me, do you mind if I join you? Everywhere else is full.

Harry: No, not at all.

Ron: I'm Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley.

Harry: I'm Harry. Harry Potter.

Ron: So-so it's true?! I mean, do you really have the...the...

Harry: The what?

Ron: {whispers} Scar…

Harry: Oh, yeah. {lifts up hair to reveal lightning bolt shaped scar}

Ron: Wicked.

[The boys buy some candy off of the sweet-cart and begin to eat it.]

Harry: Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans?

Ron: They mean every flavor! There's chocolate and peppermint, and there's also spinach, liver and trout. George sweared he got a bogey-flavored one once! Like my rat? He's a poor excuse for a pet. Mom and Dad can’t afford an owl…Lame isn’t he?

Harry: Just a little bit.

Ron: Fred gave me a spell to turn him yellow. Want to see?

Harry: Yeah!

[A girl enters the compartment. Her name is Hermione Granger. She is already wearing her new Hogwarts robes. She has a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth.]

Hermione: Has anyone seen a toad named Trevor? A boy named Neville lost his pet. Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see then.

Ron: Sunshine, daises, butter mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow! {Zap. Nothing happens. Ron shrugs.}

Hermione: Are you sure that's a real spell? Well, it's not very good, is it? Of course I've only tried a few simple spells myself, but they've all worked for me. For example... Oculus Reparo {Hermione goes over and sits across from Harry. She points her hand at his glasses and Harry blinks. His glasses, which were broken, are repaired. Harry takes them off, amazed.} That's better, isn't it? Holy Cricket, you're Harry Potter. I'm Hermione Granger...and you are...? Ron: I'm...Ron Weasley.

Hermione: {Sarcastically} Pleased to meet you. You two better change into your robes. I expect we'll be arriving soon. Hagrid: {The train arrives and the First Years are led off first} First years! This way, please! Come on, don't be shy! Hurry now! [The students are led to a number of boats. They are sent gliding across a vast lake, where up ahead a huge castle with many turrets and towers sit upon many magnificent cliffs covered with ivy.]

Chapter Seven – The Sorting Hat McGonagall: {Inside the castle} Welcome to Hogwarts. Now, in a few moments, you will pass through these doors and join your classmates. But before you can take your seats you must be sorted into your houses. They are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Now, while you are here, your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you house points. Any rule breaking, and you will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup.

Draco Malfoy: It's true then, what they're saying on the train. Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts. This is Crabbe, and Goyle… and I'm Malfoy...Draco Malfoy. {Ron snickers at his name} Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask yours. Red hair, and a hand me down robe? You must be a Weasley. You'll soon find that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. Don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.

Harry: I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks.

McGonagall: We're ready for you now.

[She leads everyone through two large doors and into the Great Hall. Harry had never imagined such a strange and splendid place. It’s lit by thousands of candles that are floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students sit. On tables lay glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall another long table seats all the professors.]

Hermione: It's not real, the ceiling. It's just bewitched to look like the night sky. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History.

Dumbledore: Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts. I have a few start of term notices I wish to announce. The first years please note that the dark forest is strictly forbidden to all students. Also, our caretaker, Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you that the 3rd floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death. Thank you. Now the sorting hat has some words of wisdom for us all.

The Sorting Hat: {The witches hat comes to life and says} Oh, you may not think I'm pretty, but don't judge on what you see. I'll eat myself if you can find a smarter hat than me. You can keep your bowlers black, your top hats sleek and tall, for I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat, and I can top them all. There's nothing hidden in your head, the Sorting Hat can't see, so try me on and I will tell you where you ought to be. You might belong in Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart. Their daring, nerve and chivalry set Gryffindors apart. You might belong in Hufflepuff, where they are just and loyal, those patient Hufflepuffs are true And unafraid of toil; Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, if you've a steady mind, where those of wit and learning, Will always find their kind. Or perhaps in Slytherin you'll make your real friends, Those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends. So put me on! Don't be afraid! And don't get in a flap! You're in safe hands (though I have none) For I'm a Thinking Cap!

McGonagall: When I call your name, you will come forth, I shall place the sorting hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your houses. Hermione Granger.

Hermione: {Talking to herself} Oh, no. Okay, relax Hermione. You can do this.

Ron: Mental that one, I'm telling you.

The Sorting Hat: Ah, right then...hmm...right. Okay...Gryffindor!!

McGonagall: Draco Malfoy.

The Sorting Hat: SLYTHERIN! Ron: There isn't a witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin.

McGonagall: Susan Bones. The Sorting Hat: Let's see...I know...Hufflepuff!

McGonagall: Ronald Weasley.

The Sorting Hat: Ah! Another Weasley. I know just where to put you...Gryffindor!!

McGonagall: Harry Potter. {Suddenly Harry was struck with a horrible thought…What if he wasn’t chosen at all?}

The Sorting Hat: Hmm...Difficult, very difficult. Plenty of courage I see, not a bad mind, either. There's talent, oh yes, and a thirst to prove yourself. But where to put you?

Harry: {whispers} Not Slytherin. Not Slytherin.

The Sorting Hat: Not Slytherin, eh? Are you sure? You could be great, you know. It’s all here in your head. And Slytherin will help you on your way to greatness! There's no doubt about that! No? Well, if you're sure...better be...GRYFFINDOR! {The Sorting continues and after all the First Years are sorted, Dumbledore rises}

Dumbledore: Let the feast...begin. {Food magically appears on all the tables, and the hall is filled with awe and chatter.}

Chapter Eight – The Potions Master Percy Weasley: Gryffindors, follow me please. Keep up. Thank you. This is the most direct path to the dormitories. Oh, and keep an eye on the staircases...they like to change.

[The enormous staircases rotate and move, connecting the different levels of the huge castle. As the Gryffindors approach their dorm, they are faced with a painting of a very fat woman in a pink dress. Behind the painting is the secret entrance to the Gryffindor dormitories.]

Fat Lady: Password?

Percy: Caput Draconis. {She nods and the painting opens to reveal a gape in the wall.} Follow me, everyone. Keep up, quickly, come on. Gather 'round here. Welcome to the Gryffindor Common Room. Boys' dormitories, upstairs and down to your left. Girls, the same on your right. You'll find that your belongings have already been brought up.

[The next morning Harry and Ron run through the stone halls of the castle to their class. They rush in. In the class, a tabby cat is sitting on a desk, the same cat that sat at number 4 Privet Dr. years ago.]

Ron: Whew, we made it. Can you imagine the look on old McGonagall's face if we were late?

[The cat jumps off the desk and turns into Professor McGonagall. The two boys are amazed.]

Ron: That was bloody brilliant.

McGonagall: Thank you for that assessment, Mr. Weasley. Perhaps if I were to transfigure Mr. Potter and yourself into a pocketwatch, maybe one of you would be on time.

Harry: We got lost.

McGonagall: Then perhaps a map? I trust you don't need one to find your seats.

[The next class is Snape's potions class. The students are chattering, sitting near steaming cauldrons. The door slams open and Snape comes rushing in.]

Snape: There will be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don't expect many of you to enjoy the subtle science and exact art that is potion making. However, for those select few, who possess the predisposition, I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper in death. {Snape sees Harry, writing this down, in, his view, not paying attention.} Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confidant enough to not...pay...attention.

[Hermione nudges Harry in the ribs. He looks up.]

Snape: Mr. Potter. Our...new...celebrity. Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of magerod to an infusion of wormwood? {Hermione's hand skyrockets. Harry shrugs.} You don't know? Well, let's try again. Where, Mr. Potter, would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar? {Hermione's hand shoots up again.}

Harry: I don't know, Sir.

Snape: And what is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfbane?

Harry: I don't know, Sir.

Snape: Pity. Clearly, fame isn't everything, is it, Mr. Potter?

Chapter Nine – The Midnight Duel Ron: Ah. Mail's here!

[The owls soar by, dropping parcels to students. Harry gets nothing. He sees the newspaper Ron has put down.]

Harry: Can I read this? {Ron nods} Thanks.

[Neville is unwrapping a gift. It is a clear ball with gold around it.]

Seamus: Hey, look! Neville's got a Remembrall!

Hermione: I've read about those. When the smoke turns red it means you've forgotten something.

Neville: The only problem is I can't remember what I've forgotten.

Harry: Hey, Ron, somebody broke into Gringotts. Listen, "Believed to be the work of dark witches or wizards unknown, Gringotts goblins, while acknowledging the breach, insist that nothing was taken. The vault in question, number 713, had been emptied earlier that same day." That's odd. That's the vault Hagrid and I went to.

[The Gryffindor and Slytherin students meet for their next class, Flying with Madam Hooch. They line up in two rows with brooms by their sides. Madam Hooch comes down the line. She has short hair and hawk yellow eyes.]

Hooch: Good afternoon, everyone.

Seamus: Good afternoon, Madam Hooch.

Hooch: Yes hello, Mr. Finnegan…Welcome all to your first flying lesson. Well, what are you waiting for? Everyone step up to the left side of their broomstick. Come on now, hurry up. Stick your right hand over the broom and say, Up!

Dean: Up! {Harry's broom flies directly into his hand. Other students, like Dean, struggle to call their broom to them.}

Hooch: With feeling!

Hermione: Up. Up. Up! Ron: Up!! {His broom flies up and conks him on the nose} Owwwww! Shut up, Harry.

Hooch: Now, once you've got hold of your broom, I want you to mount it. And grip it tight, you don't want to be sliding off the end. When I blow my whistle, I want each of you to kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your broom steady, hover for a moment, and then lean forward slightly and touch back down. On my whistle...3...2...1

[Neville immediately lifts off. He looks quite frightened.]

Neville: Oh...wait! WHOA!

Hooch: Mr. Longbottom.

Seamus: Neville, what are you doing? Hop off, quick!

Hooch: {Neville begins soaring away} Mr. Longbottom! Mr. Longbottom!!!!

Neville: Help! {soars away} Down! Down, you stupid broom! Ahhhh!

Hooch: Come back down this instant!

Neville: I can't! I don't know how!

[He soars through the sky and hits a wall, bashing along it and then swooping off. All the while, he is screaming. He begins to zoom back towards the group of students. Hooch holds out her wand to stop him. He zooms past a statue of a man with a sharp spear. Neville's cloak catches on it. He is flipped off the broom and hangs there. He wavers, then the cloak rips, and he falls, catching on a torch, but then slipping out and falling to the ground hard.]

Hooch: Everyone out of the way! Oh dear. It's a broken wrist. Good boy, come on now, up you get. {Draco reaches down and grabs Neville's Remembrall, which has fallen. Hooch begins to lead Neville away with her.} Everyone's to keep their feet firmly on the ground while I take Mr. Longbottom to the hospital wing. Understand? If I see a single broom in the air, the one riding it will find themselves out of Hogwarts before they can say, Quidditch.

Draco: Did you see his face? Maybe if the crying baby had given this a squeeze, he'd have remembered to fall on his fat butt.

Harry: Give it here, Malfoy.

Draco: No. I think I'll leave it somewhere for the fat lump to find. {hops on broom} How 'bout up on the roof?? {soars off and hovers high in the sky.} What's the matter, Potter? Beyond your reach?

[Harry grabs his broom and runs to get on it. Hermione stops him.]

Hermione: No! You heard what Madam Hooch said! Besides, you don't even know how to fly. {Harry flies off.} What an idiot.

Harry: Give it here, Malfoy, or I'll knock you off your broom!

Draco: Is that so? Have it your way, then! {He throws the Remembrall into the air.}

[Harry zooms after the ball, speeding towards a tower. Just as he is about to hit a window, from which McGonagall is working/watching, he catches it, and then heads back to the group. The students all cheer and run to see him.]

Seamus: Good job, Harry!

Dean: Oh, that was wicked, Harry.

McGonagall: Harry Potter? Follow me.

[Quirrell teaches his Defense Against the Dark-Arts class to a group of Fifth-years.]

McGonagall: Excuse me, Professor Quirrell. Could I borrow Wood for a moment?

Quirrell: Oh. Y-y-yes, of course. {Quirrell continues to teach.} And the vampire b-b-b-bat...

McGonagall: Potter, this is Oliver Wood…… Oliver, I have found you a Seeker!

[Later that day in the dinning hall.]

Fred Weasley: Hey, well done, Harry, Wood's just told us!

Ron: Fred and George are on the team, too. Beaters.

George: Our job is to make sure you don't get bloodied up too bad. Can't make any promises though. Rough game, Quidditch.

Fred: Brutal. But no one's died in years. Someone will vanish occasionally...

George: But they'll turn up in a month or two!!

Ron: Don't worry, Harry, Quidditch is great. Best game there is! And you'll be great, too!

Harry: But I've never even played Quidditch. What if I make a fool of myself?

Draco Malfoy: Having your last meal before the expel you, Potter?

Harry: You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground.

Draco Malfoy: I'd take you on anytime. Tonight. Wizard's duel. Wands only. What's the matter? Never heard of one?

Ron: Of course he has, and I'm his second. {Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle exit}

Harry: Ron, what is a wizard's duel? And what do you mean you're my second?

Ron: Well, a second's there to take over if you die. But people only die in proper duels. The most you and Malfoy'll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage

Harry: And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?

Ron: Throw it away and punch him in the nose.

[That night Ron and Harry snuck out of the Gryffindor Common Room to meet Malfoy in the Trophy Room. Followed closely by Hermione.]

Ron: You? What are you doing here?

Hermione: I can't believe you're going to do this, Harry. Don’t you care about Gryffindor? You'll lose point for us.

Ron: Go away.

[But Hermione walks with the boys to the Trophy room. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle are no where to be seen, but Flitch the caretaker is wandering around the castle with his cat, Mrs. Norris. Harry, Ron and Hermione run as to not be seen by Flitch. They climb one of Hogwarts many staircases when it suddenly starts to move.]

Ron: Whoa! Harry: What's happening?

Hermione: The staircases change, remember? {The staircase stops in a new place.}

Harry: Let's go this way before the staircase moves again.

Ron: Does anyone feel like...we shouldn't be here?

Hermione: We're not supposed to be here. This is the 3rd floor. It's forbidden. {The come to a closed wooden door. }

Harry: It's locked!

Ron: That's it, we're done for!

Hermione: Oh, move over! {pushes through and pulls out wand} Alohomora. {The door clicks opens.}

Ron: Alohomora?

Hermione: Standard book of spells, Chapter 7. It’s the spell that unlocks doors.

Filch: Anyone here, my sweet? {cat meows} Come now Mrs. Norris. {exit.}

Hermione: Filch is gone.

Ron: Why was this door even locked?

Harry: For a very good reason.

[Ron and Hermione turn to stand with Harry. There is a massive three headed dog sleeping in front of them. The dog, Fluffy, begins to wake. It growls. Its three pairs of eyes twitch. Its three drooling mouths reveal hundreds of yellow fangs. The dog barks and bites at Ron, Harry and Hermione. All three scream. They bolt, running as fast as their feet will carry them all the way back to the portrait of the Fat Lady and the Gryffindor Common Room.]

Ron: What do they think they're doing?? Keeping a thing like that locked up in a school.

Hermione: You don't use your eyes, do you? Didn't you see what it was standing on?

Ron: I wasn't looking at its feet! I was a bit preoccupied with its heads. Or maybe you didn't notice, there were three!

Hermione: It was standing on a trap door. Which means it wasn't there by accident. It's guarding something.

Harry: Guarding something?

Hermione: That's right. Now, if you two don't mind, I'm going to bed before either of you come up with another clever idea to get us killed...or worse, expelled!

Ron: She needs to sort out her priorities! Chapter Ten – Halloween [Harry joins by Oliver Wood, a Fifth-year, a Keeper (goalie) and the captain of the team for Gryffindor, on the Quidditch pitch]

Oliver Wood: Quidditch is easy enough to understand. There are 7 players, 3 chasers, 2 beaters, 1 keeper and 1 seeker…that's you. There are three kinds of balls. {picks up a red one} This one's called the Quaffle. Now, the chasers handle the Quaffle and try to put it through one of those three hoops. The keeper, that's me, defends the hoops. With me so far?

Harry: I think so. What are those? {points to two squirming chained down balls.}

Wood: ...You better take this. {hands Harry a small bat. He bends down and releases one ball. With an angry growl, it flies off into the air. The two boys watch it.} Careful now, it's comin' back. {The balls comes whizzing down, and Harry cracks at it with the bat. The ball soars off through a statue.} Huh, not bad, Potter, you'd make a fair beater...Uh-oh. {The ball zooms down, and Wood grabs it, wriggling to get it back in the box. He succeeds and is out of breath.} Bludger. Nasty little buggers. But the only ball I want you to worry about is this...the Golden Snitch. {hands Harry a walnut sized golden ball.}

Harry: I like this ball.

Wood: Ah, you like it now. Just wait. It's wicked fast and near impossible to see.

Harry: What do I do with it?

Wood: You catch it...before the other team's seeker. You catch this, the game is over. You catch this, Potter, and we win.

[Later in Professor Flitwick's class the dwarf teacher demonstrates how to levitate an object. Students practice with feathers.]

Flitwick: One of a wizard's most rudimentary skills is levitation the ability to make objects fly. Do you all have your feathers?...Good. Now, don't forget the nice wrist movement we've been practicing. That's swish and flick. Everyone, swish and flick. Good. And enunciate. Wingardium Leviosa. Off you go then.

Draco: Wingardium Levio-saaaaaa.

Ron: Win-grad-rium Levio-sarrr.

Hermione: Stop, stop, stop. You're going to take someone's eye out. Besides, you're saying it wrong. It's Leviosa, not Leviosar.

Ron: You do it then if you're so clever. Go on…

Hermione: Wingardium Leviosa. {The feather levitates. Ron puts his head on his books dejectedly.}

Flitwick: Oh, well done! See here, everyone! Ms. Granger's done it! Oh, splendid!

[Neville, Harry, Ron and Seamus are walking through a courtyard after class.]

Ron: It's Leviosa, not Leviosar. Honestly, she's a nightmare. No wonder she hasn't got any friends! {Hermione pushes past them}

Harry: I think she heard you.

[It is Halloween and nighttime in the great hall. Students eat candy. Jack O'Lanterns float in the magical ceil of the great hall.]

Harry: Where's Hermione?

Neville: Parvati Patil said that she wouldn't come out of the girl's bathroom. Said that she'd been in there all afternoon crying. Seamus: What did you blokes say to her? {Harry and Ron shrug as if they don’t know}

Quirrell: TROLL! IN THE DUNGEON! T-T-T-TROOLLL IN THE DUNGEON!! {faints} {students all scream in panic}

Dean: Troll? Everybody run!!!

Dumbledore: SILENCE!!!!! Everyone will please, not panic. Now, Prefects will lead their houses back to the dormitories. Teachers will follow me to the dungeons.

Percy Weasley: Gryffindors...keep up please. And stay alert!

Harry: Ron what about Hermione?! She doesn't know!

[Harry and Ron slip away from the group. They start running down a hall when they stop, because there is a grunting noise. Harry pulls Ron into an alcove to hide. A large, ugly troll staggers into a room.]

Harry: He's going into the Girl's Bathroom!

[Hermione emerges from a stall, wiping her eyes. She stops when she sees something. The troll is standing there. Hermione backs up, into the stall just as the troll raises its club and smashes the top part of the stalls. Hermione screams.] Hermione: Help! Help!

[The boys start throwing wood pieces at the troll. Harry gets his wand out. He runs forward and grabs the troll's club, and is lifted up. He lands on the troll's head, and is hurled forward, then back, and his wand goes up the troll's nose.]

Ron: Ewwwww.

Harry: Whoa, whoa! Do something!

Ron: What?

Harry: Anything! Hurry up!

Hermione: Remember, swish and flick!

Ron: Wingardium Leviosa!

[The troll's club is lifted out of his hand and hovers above his head. The troll looks up, confused, just as the club comes crashing back down. It hits the his head and the troll wavers, then drops.]

Hermione: Is it...dead?

Harry: I don't think so. Just knocked out. {He grabs his wand...which is covered in goo.} Eww. Troll bogies. {Enter McGonagall, Snape and Quirrell}

McGonagall: Oh! Oh, my goodness! Explain yourselves, both of you!

Hermione: It's my fault, Professor McGonagall.

McGonagall: Ms. Granger?

Hermione: I went looking for the troll. I'd read about them and thought I could handle it. But I was wrong. If Harry and Ron hadn't come and found me...I'd probably be dead.

McGonagall: Be that as it may...it was an extremely foolish thing to do. {Harry looks at Snape's leg...which has a large cut on it. Snape notices and covers it up, glaring at Harry.} I would have expected more rational behavior on your part, Ms. Granger. 5 points will be taken from Gryffindor for your serious lack of judgment. As for you two gentlemen I just hope you realize how fortunate you are. Not many students could take on a full grown mountain troll and live to tell the tale. 5 points...will be awarded to each of you. {Snape and McGonagall exit.}

Quirrell: P-P-perhaps you ought to go...M-m-m-m-might wake up....

Chapter Eleven – Quidditch [The next morning, in the great hall Harry, Ron, Hermione and other Gryffindors are eating.]

Dean: Take a bit of toast, mate, go on.

Seamus: Dean’s right, Harry. You're going to need your strength today for the Quidditch match.

Harry: I'm not hungry.

Snape: Good luck today, Potter. Then again, now that you've proven yourself against a troll, a little game of Quidditch should be easy work for you...even if it is against Slytherin. {Leaves, limping.}

Harry: Listen, last night, I'm guessing Snape let the troll in as a diversion so he could try and get past that 3 headed dog. But, he got himself bitten, that's why he's limping.

Hermione: But why would anyone go near that dog?

Harry: The day I was at Gringotts, Hagrid took something out of one of the vaults. He said it was Hogwarts' business, very secret.

Hermione: So you're saying...

Harry: That's what the dog's guarding. That's what Snape wants.

[An owl screeches. It is Hedwig. She is carrying a very large, long parcel. She drops it off in Harry's lap]

Harry: But I-I never get mail. {They open it.} It's a broomstick!

Ron: That's not just any broomstick, Harry. It's a Nimbus 2000!

Harry: But who...? {He sees Professor McGonagall up at the head table, stroking Hedwig. She smiles and Harry nods.}

[Inside a Quidditch tower the Gryffindor team is marching towards the starting gate.]

Wood: Scared, Harry?

Harry: A little bit.

Wood: That's all right. I felt the same way before my first game.

Harry: What happened?

Wood: Ah, I don't really remember. I took a bludger to the head 2 minutes in. Woke up in the hospital a week later.

Lee {Announcer}: Hello, and welcome to Hogwarts' first Quidditch game of the season! Today's game Slytherin versus Gryffindor! The players take their positions as Madam Hooch steps out onto the field to begin the game. The bludgers are up...followed by the Golden Snitch. Remember, the snitch is worth 150 points. The seeker who catches the Snitch ends the game The Quaffle is released...and the game begins!

[Gryffindor takes possession of the ball and a chaser, Angelina Johnson, zooms past Slytherins towards their goal, and throws the ball, and scores! There is a ding.] Lee: Angelina Johnson scores! 10 points for Gryffindor! Now Slytherin takes possession of the Quaffle. Bletchley passes to Captain Marcus Flint. He shoots!!!! Blocked by Wood!!!

Gryffindor crowd: Go, Go, Gryffindor! Go, Go, Gryffindor! {Suddenly, Harry sees the Snitch. He starts to head off after it and then his broom starts bucking and turning uncontrollably.}

Harry: Whoa! Whooooa!

Hagrid: What's going on with Harry's broomstick?

Hermione: It's Snape! He's jinxing the broom!

[Hermione takes off toward the teacher’s tower. She appears underneath Snape and touches his cloak with her wand.]

Hermione: Incendio… {A spark ignites and Snape's cloak catches fire}

Flitwick: Fire! You're on fire!

Snape: What? Oh! {knocks Flitwick backwards, who falls into Quirrell, who then also falls. Snape bats out the fire}

[The jinx is broken and Harry remounts his broom. Suddenly he sees the snitch, and so does the Slytherin Seeker. The boys fly side by side. They dive to catch the snitch, but they approach the ground quickly. The Slytherin Seeker backs out, and Harry pulls up his broom feet above the ground. Harry stands up, and steps forward, trying to grab the ball. He goes too far, and topples off the broom with a yelp, tumbling on the ground. He gets up and the Snitch pops out of his mouth.]

Lee: He's got the Snitch! Harry Potter receives 150 points for catching the Snitch!

Hooch: {Blows whistle} Gryffindor wins!

Gryffindor crowd: Go, Go, Gryffindor! Go, Go, Gryffindor!

[Later, on the grounds of the castle…]

Hagrid: Nonsense. Why would Snape put a curse on Harry's broom?

Harry: Who knows... Why was he trying to get past that 3 headed dog on Halloween?

Hagrid: Who told ya 'bout Fluffy?

Hermione: That thing has a name?

Hagrid: Well, course he's got a name. He's mine. I bought him off an Irish feller I met down at da pub last year. Then I lent him ta Dumbledore to guard the…

Harry: The what?

Hagrid: Shouldn'ta said that. Don't ask any more questions. That's top secret. You're meddlin' in things that ought not to be meddled in. It's dangerous. What that dog’s guarding is between Professor Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel. {Hagrid exits}

Harry: Nicholas Flamel? Who's Nicholas Flamel???

Hermione: I don't know. But we need to find out… Chapter Twelve – The Mirror of Erised [Christmas morning. Hedwig is perched in the boys' room, and Harry is asleep in bed. Hermione has gone home for Christmas but the boys have chosen to stay at school over the holiday.]

Ron: Harry, wake up! Come on Harry, wake up!

Harry: Happy Christmas, Ron. What are you wearing? {Ron wears an ugly sweater with a big R on it}

Ron: Oh, Mum made it for me. Looks like you've got one too!

Harry: I've got presents?

Ron: Yep! There they are. {Ron sits on a couch as Harry picks up a silver wrapped package. Harry takes out the card.}

Harry: "Dear Harry, Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well." {Harry opens the present. It is a cloak.}

Ron: Well, let's see then. Put it on. {Harry puts the cloak on, and all of him disappears except for his head.} Whoa!!! What the?

Harry: My body's gone!

Ron: I know what that is! That's an invisibility cloak!

Harry: I'm invisible??

Ron: They're really rare. I wonder who gave it to you.

Harry: There was no name. It just said, "Use it well."

[That night Harry puts the Invisibility Cloak to good use. He sneaks into the restricted section of the library to search for information on Nicholas Flamel. His plans are dashed when Filch hears him. He runs into an empty room to hide. There he sees a mirror, labeled "The Mirror of Erised"]

Harry: Mum? {the woman nods from within the mirror and smiles} Dad? {nods and smiles. Harry reaches out to touch them, but feels only the glass of the mirror. He runs back to the Gryffindor Common Room} Ron! You've really got to see this! Ron! You've got to see this! Ron, come on.

Harry: {Back in the mirror room} Come on. Come. Come look, it's my parents!

Ron: {Looking into the mirror} I only see me.

Harry: Look in properly. Go on. Stand there. There. You see them, don't you? That's my dad

Ron: No that's me! Only, I'm head boy and I'm holding the Quidditch cup! And, bloody hell, I'm Quidditch Captain too! I look good. Harry, do you think this mirror shows the future?

Harry: How can it? Both my parents are dead. {Harry smiles sadly.}

[Later, Ron leaves. Harry is sitting in front of the mirror. Dumbledore appears behind him.]

Dumbledore: Back again, Harry? I see that you, like so many before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised. I trust by now you realize what it does. Let me give you a clue. The happiest man on earth would look into the mirror and see only himself, exactly as he is. Harry: So, then it shows us what we want? Whatever we want? Dumbledore: Yes...and no. It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desires of our hearts. Now you, who have never known your family, you see them standing beside you. But remember this, Harry. This mirror gives us neither knowledge nor truth. Men have wasted away in front of it, even gone mad. That is why tomorrow it will be moved to a new home, and I must ask you not to go looking for it again. It does not do to dwell on dreams, Harry, and forget to live.

Chapter Thirteen – Nicholas Flamel [In the library, Harry and Ron are seated, Hermione comes up with a huge book, thumps it onto the table, Harry jumps.]

Hermione: Here it is! "Nicholas Flamel is the only known maker of the Sorcerer's Stone. The Sorcerer's Stone is a legendary substance with astonishing powers. It will turn any metal into pure gold and produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal."

Ron: Immortal?

Hermione: It means you'll never die.

Ron: I know what it means!

Hermione: "The only stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicholas Flamel, the noted alchemist, who last year celebrated his 665th birthday!" That's what Fluffy's guarding on the 3rd floor. That's what's under the trapdoor...the Sorcerer's Stone!

[At Quidditch practice, preparing for the second match of the season, the Weasley twins fool around while the rest of the team prepares to face Hufflepuff.] Wood: Will you two stop messing around! That's exactly the sort of thing that'll lose us the match! Snape's refereeing this time, and he'll be looking for any excuse to knock points off Gryffindor!

George: Snape's refereeing? When has he ever refereed a Quidditch match?

Fred: He's not going to be fair. If we win we will be in first place over Slytherin in the standings.

[Later, Harry reveals the news to Ron and Hermione.]

Hermione: Don't play! He's obviously trying to get close to you to cruse you, Harry.

Ron: Say you're ill!

Harry: I can't. There isn't a backup seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can’t play at all.

[The Quidditch match quickly becomes a disaster. Snape awards Hufflepuff a penalty shot in the first minute after Fred Weasley hits a bludger right at Snape's head. The Seekers battle back and forth, and soon the score is 30-20, Gryffindor. Suddenly, Harry dives and catches the Snitch, setting a record for the fastest Quidditch match ever. The stadium cheers and Gryffindor wins.] Chapter Fourteen – Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback [Nighttime. After many celebrations in the Gryffindor common room, Hermione, Ron and Harry run across the wet ground to Hagrid's hut. They knock on the door and it opens.]

Harry: Hagrid! We know about the Sorcerer's Stone. We think Snape's trying to steal it.

Hagrid: Snape? Blimey, Harry, you're not still on about him, are you?

Harry: Hagrid, we know he's after the Stone. We just don't know why.

Hagrid: Snape is one of the teachers protecting the Stone! He's not about to steal it! Waste of bloody time, if you ask me. Ain't no one gonna get past Fluffy. Not a soul knows how. Except for me and Dumbledore. I shouldn't have told you that. I shouldn't have told you that. {A cauldron over a fire begins to rattle. Hagrid hurries over and grabs something. It's a huge steaming egg and he carefully places it on the table.}

Harry: Uh, Hagrid, what exactly is that?

Ron: I know what that is! But Hagrid, how did you get one?

Hagrid: I won it. Off a stranger I met down at da pub. Seemed quite glad to be rid off it, as a matter of fact.

[The egg rattles and cracks. A Norwegian Ridgeback dragon emerges. It squeaks and slips on an egg piece.]

Hagrid: Isn't he beautiful? Oh. Bless him, look. He knows his mummy. Hehe. 'ello, Norbert. {The dragon squeaks as it looks up}

Harry: Norbert?

Hagrid: Yeah, well, he's got to have a name, doesn't he?

Hermione: Hagrid…you can’t honestly think you’ll be able to keep this Dragon

Hagrid: I know I can’t keep him forever, but I can’t jus’ dump him. He’s too little. He’d die.

Harry: Ron…what about your brother Charlie in Romania who’s studying dragons? Charlie can take care of him then put him back in the wild. {Ron agrees and writes his brother a letter. The next day the owls bring Charlie’s response.} Dear Ron, How are you? Thanks for the letter – I’d be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won’t be easy getting him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming to visit me next week. Trouble is, they mustn’t be seen carrying an illegal dragon. Could you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it’s still dark. With Love, Charlie [Ron’s hand is bitten by the Dragon at Hagrid’s hut and he has to stay overnight in the hospital wing. At midnight, Harry and Hermione manage to get Norbert from Hagrid and up to the Astronomy tower with the help of the invisibility cloak. They pause as Malfoy is led by the ear by McGonagall screaming that Harry Potter has a dragon. McGonagall doesn’t believe him and they exit. Finally at the top of the tower, Harry and Hermione had the dragon over to Charlie’s friends. Soon they flew from the Astronomy Tower and out of sight. Just as Harry and Hermione descended the staircase from the tower, they are met by Flitch.] Chapter Fifteen – The Forbidden Forest McGonagall: Nothing, I repeat, nothing gives a student the right to walk about the school at night. Therefore, as punishment for your actions, 50 points will be taken.

Harry: 50?!

McGonagall: Each. That includes Mr. Longbottom, who was trying to warn you two about Malfoy. And to ensure nothing like this happens again, all four of you will receive detention.

Filch: A pity they let the old punishments die. There was a time detention would find you hanging by your thumbs in the dungeons. God, I miss the screaming. You'll be serving detention with Hagrid tonight. He's got a little job to do inside the Forbidden Forest.

Draco: The forest? I thought that was a joke! We can't go in there. Students aren't allowed. And there are....werewolves!

Filch: There's more than werewolves in those trees, lad. You can be sure of that. Nighty-night. {Filch exits.} [In the forest. The group walks along a path to a tree. Hagrid stops, bends down and dips his fingers in a silver puddle. He pulls out his fingers and rubs them together. A silver trail smears with his fingers.]

Harry: Hagrid, what's that?

Hagrid: What we're here for. See that? That's unicorn's blood, that is. I found one dead a few weeks ago. Now, this one's been injured bad by somethin’. So, it's our job to find the poor beast. Neville, Hermione, you'll come with me. Harry go with Malfoy.

Draco: You wait till my father hears about this. This is servant's stuff.

Harry: If I didn't know better, Draco, I'd say you were scared.

Draco: Scared? {Scoffs} {Howwwwwwllllll} Did you hear that?

[Ahead, a cloaked figure is crouched over a dead unicorn, drinking its blood. Harry gasps and grabs his scar, which is burning. The figure advances towards Harry, who backs up, but trips. He crawls backwards. Suddenly, there is the sound of hoofbeats. A figure leaps over Harry and lands near the cloaked figure. It's a centaur, Firenze. It rears, and the cloaked figure retreats]

Firenze: Harry Potter you must leave. You are known to many creatures and the forest is not safe at this time. Especially for you.

Harry: But what was that thing you saved me from?

Firenze: A monstrous creature. It is a terrible crime to slay a unicorn. Drinking the blood of a unicorn will keep you alive even if you are an inch from death. But at a terrible price. You have slain something so pure that the moment the blood touches your lips, you will have a half-life. A cursed life.

Harry: But who would choose such a life?

Firenze: Can you think of no one?

Harry: Do you mean to say...that that thing that killed the unicorn...that was drinking its blood...that was Voldemort?

Firenze: Do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?

Harry: The Sorcerer's Stone.

Hagrid: Hello there, Firenze. I see you've met our young Mr. Potter. You all right there, Harry? {Harry nods}

Firenze: Harry Potter, this is where I leave you. You're safe now. Good luck.

Hermione: {Later on, back in the castle} You mean, You-Know-Who's out there, right now, in the forest?

Harry: But he's weak. He's living off the unicorns. Don't you see? We had it wrong. Snape doesn't want the stone for himself… he wants the stone for Voldemort. With the Elixir of Life, Voldemort will be strong again. He'll come back.

Ron: But if he comes back, you don't think he'll try to kill you, do you?

Harry: I think if he'd had the chance, he might have tried to kill me tonight.

Ron: And to think, I've been worrying about my Potions final!

Hermione: Hang on a minute. We're forgetting one thing. Who's the one wizard Voldemort always feared?...... Dumbledore! As long as Dumbledore's around, you're safe. As long as Dumbledore's around, you can't be touched.

Ron: All right there, Harry? Harry: My scar. It keeps burning.

Ron: Perhaps you should see the nurse.

Harry: No, I think it's a warning. It means dangers coming. Uhh! {He rubs scar and then sees Hagrid across the field, at his hut.} Wait…the dragon! Of course! {runs for Hagrid's hut.} Hagrid, who gave you the dragon egg? What did he look like?

Hagrid: I don't know. I never saw his face. He kept his hood up. He wanted to know what sort of creatures I looked after. I told him. I said, "After Fluffy, a dragon's gonna be no problem."

Harry: And did he seem interested in Fluffy?

Hagrid: Well, of course he was interested in Fluffy! How often do you come across a three headed dog, even if you're in the trade? But I told him. I said, "The trick with any beast is to know how to calm him. Take Fluffy, for example, just play him a bit of music and he falls straight to sleep."…....I shouldn't have told you that. Wait! Where you going?! Wait!

Chapter Sixteen – Through the Trapdoor [Nighttime. In the Gryffindor Common Room the three come down the stairs and begin to walk across the floor. They stop when they hear croaking. A fellow Gryffindor, Neville Longbottom's frog (named Trevor) sits on the floor.]

Ron: Trevor shhh! Go, you shouldn't be here!

Neville: Neither should you. You're sneaking out again, aren't you?

Harry: Now, Neville, listen. We were

Neville: No! I won't let you! You'll get Gryffindor in trouble again! I'll….I'll fight you. {holds out fists.}

Hermione: Neville, I'm really, really sorry about this...{takes out her wand} Petrificus Totalus!

[Neville is frozen and falls backwards onto the ground. Hermione puts her wand back.]

Ron: You're a little scary sometimes...you know that? Brilliant…..but scary.

Harry: Let's go. Sorry, Neville.

Ron: It's for your own good, you know. {The three hide under the Invisibility cloak, sneaking out into the corridor.}

Hermione: Ow! You stood on my foot!

Ron: Sorry. {They reach Fluffy's door. Hermione draws out her wand and points it at the door.}

Hermione: Alohomora.

Ron: Wait a minute...he's...sleeping.

Harry: Snape's already been here. He put a spell on that harp. Ron play Hagrid's flute just in case the harp stops.

[Ron begins a simple tune. Quickly Harry jumps down through the door. Ron passes the flute to Hermione. She play's it while he jumps. Harry hears the tune stop, quickly barking begins, but by that time Hermione has already jumped. All three land in ropey green vines - Devil's Snare. As they struggle to get out of it, the vines tighten on them.]

Harry: Whoa!

Hermione: Stop moving, both of you. This is Devil's Snare. You have to relax. If you don't, it will only kill you faster. Ron: Kill us faster?! Oh, now I can relax! {Hermione relaxes and is sucked down below.}

Harry: Hermione!!

Ron: Now what are we gonna do?!

Hermione: Just relax!

Harry: Hermione! Where are you?!

Hermione: Do what I say. Trust me. {Harry relaxes and is sucked through also.}

Ron: Ahh! Harry!

Hermione: He's not relaxing, is he?

Harry: Apparently not.

Ron: Help! Help me!

Harry: Ron, just relax!

Hermione: We've got to do something! I remember reading something in Herbology. Um Devil's Snare, what did Professor Sprout say about it? Oh, I know…it likes dark and damp places! That's it! Devil's Snare hates fire! {takes out wand and points upwards.} Incendio! {A beam of light blue flames hit the plant. The Snare shrieks and recoils. Ron falls below.}

Harry: Ron, are you okay?

Ron: Yeah, lucky we didn't panic!

Harry: Lucky Hermione pays attention in Herbology.

Hermione: What is that noise?

Harry: I don't know. Sounds like wings.

[They enter into a room filled with golden "birds."]

Hermione: Curious. I've never seen birds like these.

Harry: They're not birds, they're keys. And I'll bet one of them fits that door.

Ron: What's this broomstick for?

Hermione: Ugh! What're we going to do? There must be 1000 keys up there!

Ron: We're looking for a big old fashioned one. Probably rusty like the handle.

Harry: There! I see it! The one with the broken wing! {He looks at the broom.} It seems too simple…

[He grabs the broom. All the keys suddenly speed up, flying at a furious pace. They go one direction, right at Harry. He climbs on, swiping at them. Harry pushes off into the air. He flies after the key. The others follow him. Harry grabs the key. He zooms by and throws the key to Hermione, who catches it and heads for the lock while Harry distracts the other keys. Hermione puts it in the lock. The door opens, and Hermione and Ron rush through, followed by Harry. They shut the door just as the other keys slam up against it.]

[They enter a dark room, with broken pieces all around it.]

Harry: Where are we? A graveyard?

Ron: This is no graveyard. It's a chessboard.

Harry: There's the door. {They walk across the board, but suddenly, as they reach a line of pawns, the pawns bring up their swords. The three jump and back up.}

Hermione: Now what do we do?

Ron: It's obvious, isn't it? We've got to play our way across the room. Alright. Harry, you take the Bishop's square. Hermione, you'll be the Queen's side castle. As for me, I'll be a knight. {They all take their places.}

Hermione: What happens now?

Ron: {aboard a horse.} Well, white moves first, and then...we play. {A pawn on the other side moves forward. Ron studies the game.}

[The game continues. Pieces smash each other as Ron strategically attempts to win]

Ron: Castle to E-4! {Smash!} Pawn to C-3!

Harry: Wait a minute.

Ron: You understand right, Harry. Once I make my move, the Queen will take me...then you'll be free to check the King.

Harry: No, Ron! No!

Hermione: What is it?

Harry: He's going to sacrifice himself!

Hermione: No, Ron, you can't! There must be another way!

Ron: Do you want to stop Snape or not? Harry, it's you that has to go on. I know it. Not me, not Hermione, you. Knight...to H-3.

[Ron's horse moves forward, slides and stops.]

Ron: Check. {The Queen turns and advances. Ron breathes faster, clutching the steel reins. The Queen stops. SMASH! Ron goes flying off the horse and lands on the floor, unconscious.}

Harry: RON! {Hermione starts walking towards him.} NO! Don't move! Don't forget, we're still playing. {Harry walks diagonally in front of the King.} Checkmate. {The Kings sword falls onto the ground victory. Harry breathes out and then the two run to Ron. They sit beside him.} He'll be ok…he's breathing. We'll come back for him.

[They move on to a room with a disgusting smell. There, knocked out on the floor is a troll larger than the one they fought on Halloween. They move past it to another door. This room contains seven bottles. Fire guards the next doorway.]

Harry: We've had Hagrid's dog, Professor Sprout's Devil's Snare, Flitwick must have charmed the keys, McDonagall probably transfigured the chessmen, and Quirrel is Defense Against the Dark Arts, so I bet the troll was his.

Hermione: That means this is Snape's…potions. One of them must let you walk through fire…but which one? {Hermione picks up a note left by Snape. She reads it} It's logical…three are poison, two are wine, one will get us back safely and the other will get us through the fire ahead. Harry: Which is which? {Hermione mutters to herself and then hands Harry the correct potion} I'll drink it. You go back and take care of Ron. Then, go to the owlery. Send a message to Dumbledore. Ron's right...I have to go on.

Hermione: You'll be okay, Harry. You're a great wizard, you really are.

Harry: Not as good as you.

Hermione: Me? Books and cleverness? There are more important things. Friendship, and bravery. And Harry, just be careful. Chapter Seventeen – The Man with Two Faces [Harry walks down a long staircase to an empty room with pillars around it. The Mirror of Erised is in the middle of the room, and a man is standing before it. It is Quirrell. Harry yelps and grabs his scar in agony.]

Harry: You? {Quirrell turns around.} No. It can't be...Snape. He was the one

Quirrell: Yes. He does seem the type, doesn't he? Next to me, who would suspect, "p-p-poor s-s-s-stuttering Professor Quirrell?"

Harry: But, that day, during the Quidditch Match, Snape tried to kill me.

Quirrell: No, dear boy. I tried to kill you! And trust me, if Snape's cloak hadn't caught fire and broken my eye contact, I would have succeeded. Even with Snape muttering his little counter-curse.

Harry: Snape was trying to...save me? Then you let the troll in.

Quirrell: Very good Potter. Snape, unfortunately, wasn't fooled. While everyone else was running to the dungeon, he went to the 3rd floor to head me off. He, of course, never trusted me again. He rarely left me alone. But I'm never alone. Never. Now...what does this mirror do? I see what I desire. I see myself holding the stone. But how do I get it?

[A raspy voice, calls out for somewhere…"Use the boy."]

Quirrell: Come here, Potter, now! Tell me. What do you see in the mirror?

[Harry looks in the mirror. He sees himself. His mirror self puts hand into his pocket and takes out a red stone! The mirror self winks and puts the stone back. Very subtly, Harry reaches to his pocket. There is a lump. He gasps. He now has the stone.]

Quirrell: What is it?! What do you see?!

Harry: I-I'm shaking hands with Dumbledore. I've won the house cup. {Mysterious voice: "He lies! Let me speak to him."}

Quirrell: Master, you are not strong enough.

Voldemort: I have strength enough for this. {Quirrell unwraps his turban and on the side opposite his face, another face is planted. It is Voldemort who appears kind of like a snake.} Harry Potter. We meet again.

Harry: Voldemort.

Voldemort: Yes. You see what I have become? See what I must do to survive? Live off another. A mere parasite. Unicorn blood can sustain me, but it cannot give me a body of my own. But there is something that can. Something, that conveniently enough, lies in your pocket! {Harry turns and runs.} Seize him! {Quirrell snaps his fingers and fire erupts all around the room. Harry is stuck.} Don't be a fool! Why suffer a horrific death when you can join me and live forever!

Harry: Never!

Voldemort: Haha. Bravery. Your parents had it too. Tell me, Harry, would you like to see your mother and father again? Together, we can bring them back. All I ask for is something in return. That's it, Harry. There is no good or evil. There is only power, and those too weak to seek it. Together, we'll do extraordinary things. Just give me the stone! Harry: You're a liar!

Voldemort: Kill him!

[Quirrell soars into the air and smashes into Harry, one hand on Harrys throat. They fall to the steps. The stone falls out of Harry's reach as Quirrell chokes him. Harry strains and squeaks. Suddenly, Harry puts his hand on Quirrell's, trying to get him off. Smoke furls from under his hand. Harry's touch is burning Quirrell's hand.]

Quirrell: Ahh! Ahh! {He releases Harry. His hand is crumbling into black ash.} What is this magic?

Voldemort: Fool! Get the stone!

[Harry attacks. He smashes both hands into Quirrells face. Soon, Quirrells enter body turns to black ash and disappears.]

Voldemort: {A ghost of black smoke rushes at Harry} Potter!!!!

Harry: Ahhhhhhhhh! {Voldemort flies away. Harry falls to the ground, unconscious. He holds the stone in an outstretched hand.}

[Later in the hospital wing, Harry is bandaged, lying in bed. He awakens, puts on his glasses, and sits up. Dumbledore enters.]

Dumbledore: Good afternoon, Harry. Ah. Tokens from your admirers? {Points to candy and flowers at Harry's bedside} What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows. Ah, I see your friend Ronald has saved you the trouble of opening your Chocolate Frogs.

Harry: Ron was here? Is he all right? What about Hermione?

Dumbledore: Fine. They're both just fine.

Harry: But, what happened to the Stone?

Dumbledore: Relax, dear boy. The stone has been destroyed. My friend Nicholas and I had a little chat and agreed it was best.

Harry: But Flamel, he'll die, won't he?

Dumbledore: He has enough Elixir to set his affairs in order. But yes, he will die. To one as young as you, I'm sure it seems incredible, but to Flamel, it really is like going to bed after a very, very, long day. After all, to the well-organized mind…death is but the next great adventure.

Harry: But why destroy the stone, sir?

Dumbledore: You know, the Stone was really not such a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all - the trouble is, humans have a tendency to choose precisely those things that are worst for them.

Harry: How is it I got the Stone, sir? One minute I was staring in the mirror, and the next...

Dumbledore: Ah. You see, only a person who wanted to find the Stone, find it, but not use it, would be able to get it. That is one of my more brilliant ideas. And between you and me that's saying something.

Harry: Does that mean, with the Stone gone, I mean, that Voldemort can never come back?

Dumbledore: Ah, I'm afraid there are ways in which he can return. Harry, do you know why Professor Quirrell couldn't bear to have you touch him? {Harry shakes his head, no.} It was because of your mother. She sacrificed herself for you, and that kind of act leaves a mark. {Harry touches his scar.} No, no, this kind of mark cannot be seen. It lives in your very skin. Harry: What is it?

Dumbledore: Love, Harry, love. {Pats Harry's head and stands up.} Ah. Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. I was most unfortunate in my youth to come across a vomit flavored one, and since then I have lost my liking for them. But I think I could be safe with a nice toffee...{takes brown bean and eats it.} Hmmm. Alas. Earwax. {Exit Dumbledore. Enter Ron and Hermione}

Harry: All right there, Ron?

Ron: All right? You?

Harry: {shrugs} I'm all right. Hermione?

Hermione: {smile} Never better.

[In the great hall. All students are seated, and green banners with snakes on them are around the ceiling. Slytherin is in the lead with points to win the House Cup…Dumbledore, at the head table, nods to McGonagall. She dings her glass and the chatter stops. Dumbledore rises.]

Dumbledore: Another year gone. And now, as I understand it, the house cup needs awarding, and the points stand thus. In fourth place, Gryffindor with 312 points. Third place, Hufflepuff, with 352 points. In second place, Ravenclaw, with 426 points. And in first place, with 472 points, Slytherin House.

Draco: Well done Crap-in-dor! Dead last where you belong! Slytherin forever!

Dumbledore: Yes, yes, well done Slytherin, well done Slytherin. However, recent events must be taken into account. And I have a few last minute points to award. To Miss Hermione Granger, for the use of cool intellect when others were in great peril, 50 points. {Applause.} Second, to Mr. Ronald Weasley, for the best played game of chess that Hogwarts has seen these many years...50 points. {Applause} And third, to Mr. Harry Potter, for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house 60 points. {Immense cheering.}

Hermione: We're tied with Slytherin!

Dumbledore: And finally, it takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to your enemies, but a great deal more to stand up to your friends. I award 10 points to Neville Longbottom.

[Immense cheering erupts. Neville is unbelieving, and sits there while cheering gets louder. Draco is downfallen.]

Dumbledore: Assuming that my calculations are correct, I believe that a change of direction is in order. {Claps. The green banners change to Gryffindor red and yellow.} Gryffindor wins the House Cup!

[The red train steams as it prepares to take students home.]

Hagrid: Come on now, hurry up. You'll be late. Train's leaving. Go on. Go on. Come on. Hurry up. Oh, Harry….Thought you were leaving without saying good-bye, didja? Oh, listen, Harry, if that dolt of a cousin of yours, Dudley, gives you any grief, you could always threaten him with a nice pair of ears to go with that tail of his.

Harry: But Hagrid, we're not allowed to do magic away from Hogwarts. You know that.

Hagrid: I do. But your cousin don't, do he?

Hermione: Feels strange to be going home, doesn't it?

Harry: I'm not going home. Not really. The End

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