Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
Chapter One: Rescuing the Boy Who Lived
"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!"
...
"A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?"
...
"No thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone ---"
"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 is proper name: Voldemort." Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."
"I know you haven't," said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the oly one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of."
"You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."
...
"You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"
...
"What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are --- are --- that they're --- dead."
...
Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry. But --- he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke --- and that's why he's gone."
Dumbledore nodded glumly.
"It's --- it's true?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done ...all the people he's killed ...he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding ... of all the things to stop him ...but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"
...
Chapter Two: Parseltongue
"I know," Harry mumured through the glass, though he wasn't sure the snake could hear him. "It must be really annoying."
...
"Where do you come from, anyway?" Harry asked.
...
"Was it nice there?"
...
"Oh, I see --- so you've never been to Brazil?"
...
Sometimes, when he strained his memory during long hours in his cupboard, he came up with a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light and a burning pain on his forehead. This, he supposed, was the crash, though he couldn't imagine where all the green light had came from.
Chapter Three: The Savage from the Hut
"It begins, I suppose with --- with a person called --- but it's incredible yeh don't know his name, everyone in our world knows ---"
"Who?"
"Well --- I don' like sayin' the name if I can help it. No one does."
"Why not?"
"Gulpin' gargyles, Harry, people are still scared. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went ...bad. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name was..."
...
"Nah --- can't spell it. All right --- Voldemort." Hagrid shuddered. "Don' make me say it again. Anyway, this --- this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin' fer followers. Got 'em, too --- some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o' his power, 'cause he was gettin' himself power, all right. Dark days, Harry. Didn't know who ter trust, didn't dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches ...terrible things happened. He was takin' over. 'Course some stood up to him --- an' he killed 'em. Horribly. One o' the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn't dare try takin' the school, not jus' then, anyway.
"Now, yer mum an' dad were as good a witch an' wizard as I ever knew. Head boy an' girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the myst'ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get 'em on his side before ...probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin' ter do with the Dark Side.
"Maybe he thought he could persuade 'em ...maybe he just wanted 'em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Halloween ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an' --- an' ---"
...
"You-Know-Who killed 'em. An' then --- an' this is the real myst'ry of the thing --- he tried to kill you, too. Wanted to make a clean job of it, I suppose, or maybe he just liked killin' by then. But he couldn't do it. Never wondered how yu got that mark on yer forehead? That was no ordinary cut. That's what yeh get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh --- took care of yer mum an' dad an' yer house, even --- but it didn't work on you, an' that's why yer famous, Harry.No one ever lived after he decided ter kill 'em, no one except you, an' he'd killed some o' the best witches an' wizards of the age --- the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts --- an' you was only a baby, an' you lived."
Something very painful was going on in Harry's mind. As Hagrid's story came to a close, he saw again the blinding flash of green light, more clearly than he had ever remembered it before --- and he remembered something else, for the first time in his life: a high, cold, cruel laugh.
...
"But what happened to Vol-, sorry --- I mean, You-Know-Who?"
"Good question, Harry. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried ter kill you. Makes yeh even more famous. That's the biggest myst'ry, see ...he was gettin' more an' more powerful --- why'd he go?
"Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he's still out there, bidin' his time, like, but I don' believe it. People who was on his side came back ter ours. Some of 'em came outta kinda trances. Don' reckon they could've done if he was comin' back.
"Most of us reckon he's still out there somewhere but lost his powers. Too weak to carry on. 'Cause somethin' about you finished him, Harry. There was somethin' goin' on that night he hadn't counted on --- I dunno what it was, no one does --- but somthin' about you stumped him, all right."
...
If he'd defeated the greatest sorcerer in the world, how come Dudley had always been able to kick him around like a football?
Chapter Five: Draco Malfoy's First Appearance
In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to him, slipped a long robe over his head, and began to pin it to the right length.
"Hello," said the boy."Hogwarts, too?"
"Yes," said Harry.
"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."
Harry was strongly reminded of Dudley.
"Have you got your own broom?" the boy went on.
"No," said Harry.
"Play Quidditch at all?"
"No," Harry said again, wondering what on earth Quidditch could be.
"I do --- Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"
"No," said Harry, feeling more stupid by the minute.
"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been --- imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"
"Mmm," said Harry, wishing he could say something a bit more interesting.
"I say, look at that man!" said the boy suddenly, nodding toward the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Harry and pointing at two large ice creams to show he couldn't come in.
"That's Hagrid," said Harry, pleased to know something the boy didn't. "He works at Hogwarts."
"Oh," said the boy. "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?"
"He's the gamekeeper," said Harry. He was liking the boy less and less every second.
"Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of savage --- lives in a hut on the school grounds ad every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed."
"I think he's brilliant," said Harry coldly.
"Do you?" said the boy, with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"
"They're dead," said Harry shortly. He didn't feel much like going into the matter with this boy.
"Oh, sorry," said the other, not sounding sorry at all. "But they were our kind, weren't they?"
"They were a witch and a wizard, if that's what you mean."
"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're jut not the same, they've never been brought up to know out ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?"
But before Harry could answer, Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear," and Harry, not sorry for an excuse to stop talking to the boy, hopped down from the footstool.
"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," said the drawling boy.
Chapter Six: Draco's Thugs Enter
Three boys entered, and Harry recognized the middle one at once: it was the pale boy from Madam Malkin's robe shop. He was looking at Harry with a lot more interest than he'd shown back in Diagon Alley.
"Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"
"Yes," said Harry. He was looking at the other boys. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing on either side of the pale boy, they looked like bodyguards.
"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the pale boy carelessly, noticing where Harry was looking. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."
Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco Malfoy looked at him.
"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."
He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."
He held out his hand to shake Harry's, but Harry didn't take it.
"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," he said coolly.
Draco Malfoy didn't go red, but a pink tinge appeared in his pale cheeks.
"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he said slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."
Both Harry and Ron stood up.
"Say that again," Ron said, his face as red as his hair.
"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" Malfoy sneered.
"Unless you get out now," said Harry, more bravely than he felt, because Crabbe and Goyle were a lot bigger than him or Ron.
"But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some."
Goyle reached toward the Chocolate Frogs next to Ron --- Ron leapt forward, but before he'd so much as touched Goyle, Goyle let out a horrible yell.
Scabbers the rat was hanging off his finger, sharp little teeth sunk deep into Goyle's knuckle --- Crabbe and Malfoy backed away as Goyle swung Scabbers round and round, howling, and when Scabbers finally flew off and hit the window, all three of them disappeared at once. Perhaps they thought there were more rats lurking among the sweets, or perhaps they'd heard footsteps, because a second later, Hermione Granger had come in.
...
"You've met Malfoy before?"
Harry explained about their meeting in Diagon Alley.
I've heard of his family," said Ron darkly. "They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side."
Chapter Seven: Severus Snape's First Appearance
Oh you may not think me 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 cap 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 ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folks 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!
Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "Slytherin!"
Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.
...
"Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes --- and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting. ...So where shall I put you?"
Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, Not Slytherin, not Slytherin.
"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the small voice. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that --- no? Well, if you're sure --- better be GRYFFINDOR!"
...
Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Malfoy who, Harry was pleased to see, didn't look too pleased with the seating arrangements.
"How did he get covered in blood?" asked Seamus with great interest.
"I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nick delicately.
...
Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose and sallow skin.
It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell's turban straight into Harry's eyes --- and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry's forehead.
...
The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had gotten from the teacher's look --- a feeling that he didn't like Harry at all.
"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Percy.
"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to --- everyone know he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."
Harry watched Snape for a while, but Snape didn't look at him again.
...
"The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects."
...
He was wearing Professor Quirrell's turban, which kept talking to him, telling him he must transfer to Slytherin at once, because it was his destiny. Harry told the turban he didn't want to be in Slytherin; it got heavier and heavier; he tried to pull it off but it tightened painfully --- and there was Malfoy, laughing at him as he struggled with it --- then Malfoy turned into the hook-nosed teacher, Snape, whose laugh became high and cold --- there was a burst of green light and Harry woke, sweating and shaking.
Chapter Eight: Potter in his Place
"Double Potions with the Slytherins," said Ron. "Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them --- we'll be able to see if it's true."
...
It was lucky that Harry had tea with Hagrid to look forward to, because the Potions lesson turned out to be the worst thing that had happened to him so far.
At the start-of-term banquet, Harry had gotten the idea that Professor Snape disliked him. By the end of the first Potions lesson, he knew he'd been wrong. Snape didn't dislike Harry --- he hated him.
Potions lessons took place in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.
Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name.
"Ah, yes, " he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new --- celebrity."
Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels.
"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word --- like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I 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."
...
"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Powdered root of what to an infusion of what? Harry glanced at Ron, who looked as stumped as he was; Hermione's hand shot into the air.
"I don't know, sir," said Harry.
Snape's lips curled into a sneer.
"Tut, tut --- fame clearly isn't everything."
He ignored Hermione's hand.
"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"
Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without leaving her seat, but Harry didn't have the faintest idea what a bezoar was. He tried not to look at Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who were shaking with laughter.
"I don't know, sir."
"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"
Harry forced himself to keep looking straight into those cold eyes, He had looked through his books at the Dursley's, but did Snape expect him to remember everything in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi?
Snape was still ignoring Hermione's quivering hand.
"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"
"At this Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.
"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"
A few people laughed; Harry caught Seamus's eye, and Seamus winked. Snape, however, was not pleased.
"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "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?"
There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."
Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within second, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.
"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I supposed you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"
Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.
"Take him to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.
"You --- Potter --- why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Though he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."
This was so unfair that Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Ron kicked him behind their cauldron.
"Don't push it," he muttered. "I've heard Snape can turn very nasty."
As they climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Harry's mind was racing and his spirits were low. He'd lost two points for Gryffindor in his very first week --- why did Snape hate him so much?
"Cheer up," said Ron, "Snape's always taking point off Fred and George. Can I come and meet Hagrid with you?"
...
Harry told Hagrid about Snape's lesson. Hagrid, like Ron, told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students.
"But he seemed to really hate me."
"Rubbish!" said Hagrid. "Why should he?"
Chapter Nine: Flying and Fleeing
Harry had never believed he would meet a boy he hated more than Dudley, but that was before he met Draco Malfoy. Still, first-year Gryffindors only had Potions with the Slytherins, so they didn't have to put up with Malfoy much.
...
Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday --- and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together.
"Typical," said Harry darkly. "Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."
...
"You don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself," said Ron reasonably. "Anyway, I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet he's all talk."
Malfoy certainly did talk about flying a lot. He complained loudly about first years never getting on the house Quidditch teams and told long, boastful stories that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters.
...
Harry hadn't had a single letter since Hagrid's note, something that Malfoy had been quick to notice, of course. Malfoy's eagle owl was always bringing him packages of sweets from home, which he opened gloatingly at the Slytherin table.
...
Neville was trying to remember what he'd forgotten when Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand.
Harry and Rom jumped to their feet. They were half hoping for a reason to fight Malfoy, but Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash.
"What's going on?"
"Malfoy's got my Rememberall, Professor."
Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Rememberall back on the table.
"Just looking," he said, and he sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him.
...
The Slytherins were already there, and s were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground.
...
Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Harry and Ron were delighted when she told Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong for years.
...
No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.
"Did you see his face, the great lump?"
The other Slytherins joined in.
"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil.
"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought you'd like fat little cry-babies, Parvati."
"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."
The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.
"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch.
Malfoy smiled nastily.
"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find --- how about --- up a tree?"
"Give it here!" Harry yelled, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. He hadn't been lying, he could fly well. Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak he called, "Come and get it, Potter!"
Harry grabbed his broom.
"No!" shouted Hermione Granger. "Madam Hooch told us not to move --- you'll get us all into trouble."
...
He turned his broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in midair. Malfoy looked stunned.
"Give it here," Harry called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!"
"Oh, yeah?" said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looking worried.
Harry knew, somehow, what to do. He leaned forward and grasped the broom tightly in both hands, and it shot toward Malfoy like a javelin. Malfoy only just got out of the way in time; Harry made a sharp about-face and held the broom steady. A few people below were clapping.
"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save you neck, Malfoy," Harry called.
The same thought seemed to have struck Malfoy.
"Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground.
...
"But Malfoy ---"
...
Harry caught sight of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle's triumphant faces as he left, walking numbly in Professor McGonagall's wake as she strode toward the castle.
...
"I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the first-year rule. Heaven knows, we need a better team than last year. Flattened in the last match by Slytherin, I couldn't look Severus Snape in the face for weeks. ..."
...
Fred and George had hardly disappeared when someone far less welcome turned up: Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.
"Having your last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?"
"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," said Harry coolly. There was of course nothing at all little about Crabbe and Goyle, but as the High Table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl.
"I'd take you on anytime on my own," said Malfoy. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only --- no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"
"Of course he has," said Ron wheeling around. "I'm his second, who's yours?"
Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up.
"Crabbe," he said. "Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."
When Malfoy had gone, Ron and Harry looked at each other.
...
"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. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway."
"And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?"
"Throw it away and punch him no the nose," Ron suggested.
...
"I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying ---"
...
On the other hand, Malfoy's sneering face kept looming up out of the darkness --- this was his big chance to beat Malfoy face-to-face.
...
"Don't you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don't want Slytherin to win the house cup, and you'll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells."
...
"Don't leave me!" said Neville, scrambling to his feet, "I don't want to stay here alone, the Bloody Baron's been past twice already."
...
Malfoy and Crabbe weren't there yet.
...
Harry took out his wand in case Malfoy leapt in and started at once. The minutes crept by.
"He's late, maybe he's chickened out," Ron whispered.
Then a noise in the next room made them jump. Harry had only just rinsed his wand when they heard someone speak --- and it wasn't Malfoy.
...
"Malfoy tricked you," Hermione said to Harry. "You do realize that, don't you? He was never going to meet you --- Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off.
Chapter Ten: Halloween
Malfoy couldn't believe his eyes when he saw that Harry and Ron were still at Hogwarts the next day, looking tired but perfectly cheerful.
...
They left the hall quickly, wanting to unwrap the broomstick in private before their first class, but halfway across the entrance hall they found the way upstairs had been barred by Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy seized the package from Harry and felt it.
"That's a broomstick," he said, throwing it back to Harry with a mixture of jealousy and spite on his face. "You'll be in for it this time, Potter, first years aren't allowed them."
Ron couldn't resist it.
"It's not any old broomstick," he said, "it's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?" Ron grinned at Harry. "Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus."
"What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle," Malfoy snapped back. "I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig."
Before Ron could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared at Malfoy's elbow.
"Not arguing, I hope, boys?" he squeaked.
"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," said Malfoy quickly.
"Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?"
"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir," said Harry, fighting not to laugh at the look of horror on Malfoy's face. "Ad it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it," he added.
Harry and Ron headed upstairs, smothering their laughter at Malfoy's obvious rage and confusion.
"Well, it's true," Harry chortled s they reached the top of the marble staircase, "If he hadn't stolen Neville's Rememberall I wouldn't be on the team...."
...
Peering around it, however, they saw not Percy but Snape. He crossed the corridor and disappeared from view.
"What's he doing?" Harry whispered. "Why isn't he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?"
...
Quietly as possible, they crept along the next corridor after Snape's fading footsteps.
"He's heading for the third floor," Harry said, but Ron held up his hand.
...
"Oh, no," said Ron, pale as the Bloody Baron.
...
A moment later, Professor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear.
...
Snape bent over the troll.
...
Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look.
Chapter Eleven: Quidditch
They were standing with their backs to it, getting warm, when Snape crossed the yard. Harry noticed at once that Snape was limping. Harry, Ron, and Hermione moved closer together to block the fire from view; they were sure it wouldn't be allowed. Unfortunately, something about their guilty faces caught Snape's eye. He limped over. He hadn't seen the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to tell them off anyway.
"What's they you've got there, Potter?"
It was Quidditch Through the Ages. Harry showed him.
"Library books are not to be taken outside the school," said Snape. "Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor."
"He's just made that rule up," Harry muttered angrily as Snape limped away. "Wonder what's wrong with his leg?"
"Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him," said Ron bitterly.
...
Why should he be afraid of Snape? Getting up, he told Ron and Hermione he was going to ask Snape if he could have it.
"Better you than me," they said together, but Harry had an idea that Snape wouldn't refuse if there were other teachers listening.
...
Perhaps Snape had left the book in there?
...
Snape and Filch were inside, alone. Snape was holding his robes above his knees. One of his legs was bloody and mangled. Filch was handing Snape bandages.
"Blasted thing," Snape was saying. "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?"
Harry tried to shut the door quietly, but ---
"POTTER!"
Snape's face was twisted with fury as he dropped his robes quickly to hide his leg. Harry gulped.
"I just wondered if I could have my book back."
"GET OUT! OUT!"
Harry left, before Snape could take any more points from Gryffindor.
...
"He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Halloween! That's where he was going when we saw him --- he's after whatever it's guarding! And I'd bet my broomstick he let that troll in, to make a diversion!"
...
"No --- he wouldn't," she said. "I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe."
"Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something," snapped Ron. "I'm with Harry. I wouldn't put anything past Snape."
...
He tried to empty his mind --- he needed to sleep, he had to, he had his first Quidditch match in a few hours --- but the expression on Snape's face when Harry had seen his leg wasn't easy to forget.
...
Meanwhile, in the locker room, Harry and the rest of the team were changing into their scarlet Quidditch robes (Slytherin would be playing in green).
...
"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good friend of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve --- back to Johnson and --- no, the Slytherin's have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes --- Flint flying like an eagle up there --- he's going to sc- no, stopped by an excellent move by the Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle --- that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and --- OUCH --- that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger --- Quaffle taken by the Slytherins --- that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger --- sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which --- nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes --- she's really flying --- dodges a speeding Bludger --- the goal posts are ahead --- come on, now, Angelina --- Keeper Bletchley dives --- misses --- GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"
Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.
...
"All right there, Harry?" he had time to yell, as he beat the Bludger furiously toward Marcus Flint.
"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the --- wait a moment --- was that the Snitch?"
A murmur ran through the crow as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.
...
Slytherin Seeker Terrence Higgs had seen it, too. Neck and neck they hurtled toward the Snitch --- all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung midair to watch.
Harry was faster than Higgs --- he could see the little round ball, wings fluttering, darting up ahead --- he put on an extra spurt of speed ---
WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindors below --- Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose, and Harry's broom spun off course, Harry holding on for dear life.
...
Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor.
...
"They oughta change the rules. Flint coulda knocked Harry outta the air."
...
"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, s a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue to play, Gryffindor still in possession."
...
"Slytherin in possession --- Flint with the Quaffle --- passes Spinnet --- passes Bell --- hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose --- only joking, Professor --- Slytherins score --- oh no..."
The Slytherins were cheering.
...
"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Seamus whispered.
...
"I knew it," Hermione gasped, "Snape --- look."
Ron grabbed the binoculars. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering nonstop under his breath.
"He's doing something --- jinxing the broom," said Hermione.
...
Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.
...
Hermione had fought her way across to the stand where Snape stood, and was now racing along the row behind him; she didn't even stop to say sorry as she knocked Professor Quirrell headfirst into the row in front. Reaching Snape, she crouched down, pulled out her wand, and whispered a few, well-chosen words. Bright blue flames shot from her wand onto the hem of Snape's robes.
It took perhaps thirty seconds for Snape to realize that he was on fire. A sudden yelp told her she had done her job. Scooping the fire off him into a little jar in her pocket, she scrambled back along the row --- Snape would never know what had happened.
...
"It was Snape," Rom was explaining, "Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."
"Rubbish," said Hagrid, who hadn't heard a word of what had gone on next to him in the stands. "Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"
...
"I found out something about him," he told Hagrid. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding."
...
"But Snape's trying to steal it."
"Rubbish," said Hagrid again. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."
"So why did he just try and kill Harry?" cried Hermione.
The afternoon's events certainly seemed to have changed her mind about Snape.
"I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid. I've read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, I saw him!"
"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" said Hagrid hotly. "I don't know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn't try an' kill a student!"
Chapter Twelve: The Invisible Boy Who Lived
Worst of all were Professor Snape's classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept a close as possible to their hot cauldrons.
"I do feel so sorry," said Draco Malfoy, one Potions class, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."
He was looking over at Harry as he spoke. Crabbe and Goyle chuckled. Harry, who was measuring out powdered spine of lionfish, ignored them. Malfoy had been even more unpleasant than usual since the Quidditch match. Disgusted that the Slytherins had lost, he had tried to get everyone laughing at how a wide-mouthed tree frog would be replacing Harry as a Seeker next. Then he'd realized that nobody found this funny, because they were all so impressed at the way Harry had managed to stay on his bucking broomstick. So Malfoy, jealous and angry, had gone back to taunting Harry about having no proper family.
...
When they left the dungeons at the end of Potions, they found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead.
...
"Would you mind moving out of the way?" came Malfoy's cold drawl from behind them. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose --- that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."
Ron dived at Malfoy just as Snape came up the stairs.
"WEASLEY!"
Ron let go of the front of Malfoy's robes.
"He was provoked, Professor Snape," said Hagrid, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree. "Malfoy was insultin' his family."
"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," said Snape silkily. "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you."
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle pushed roughly past the tree, scattering needles everywhere and smirking.
"I'll get him," said Ron, grinding his teeth at Malfoy's back, "one of these days, I'll get him ---"
"I hate them both," said Harry, "Malfoy and Snape."
...
They had indeed been searching books for Flamell's name ever since Hagrid had let it slip, because how else were they going to find out what Snape was trying to steal?
...
"You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody's been in the library --- Restricted Section."
Harry felt the blood drain out of his face. Wherever he was, Filch must know a shortcut, because his soft, greasy voice was getting nearer, and to his horror, it was Snape who replied, "The Restricted Section? Well, they can't be far, we'll catch them."
Harry stood rooted to the spot as Filch and Snape came around the corner ahead. They couldn't see him, of course, but it was a narrow corridor and if they came much nearer they'd knock right into him --- the cloak didn't stop him from being solid.
...
They walked straight past, and Harry leaned against the wall, breathing deeply, listening to their footsteps dying away.
Chapter Thirteen: Snape Referees
If they had won their next match, against Hufflepuff, they would overtake Slytherin in the house championship for the first time in seven years.
...
"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 Weasley really did fall off his broom at these words.
"Snape's refereeing?" he spluttered through a mouthful of mud. "When's he ever refereed a Quidditch match? He's not going to be fair if we might overtake Slytherin."
...
"We've just got to make sure we play a nice clean game, so Snape hasn't got an excuse to pick on us."
Which was all very well, thought Harry, but he had another reason for not wanting Snape near him while he was playing Quidditch...
...
Speaking quietly so that no one else would hear, Harry told the other two about Snape's sudden, sinister desire to be a Quidditch referee.
...
"Malfoy," said Neville shakily. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."
...
"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that," Neville choked out.
...
"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."
...
"If I don't, all the Slytherins will think I'm just too scared to face Snape. I'll show them... it'll really wipe the smiles off their faces if we win."
...
The idea of overtaking Slytherin in the house championship was wonderful, no one had done it for seven years, but would they be allowed to, with such a biased referee?
Harry didn't know whether he was imagining it or not, but he seemed to keep running into Snape wherever he went. At times, he even wondered whether Snape was following him, trying to catch him on his own. Potions lessons were turning into a sort of weekly torture, Snape was so horrible to Harry. Could Snape possibly know they'd found out about the Sorcerer's Stone? Harry didn't see how he could --- yet he sometimes had a horrible feeling that Snape could read minds.
...
They'd gotten the idea from Malfoy using it on Neville, and were ready to use it on Snape if he showed any signs of wanting to hurt Harry.
...
There was simply no way that Snape would dare to try to hurt him if Dumbledore was watching.
Perhaps that was why Snape was looking so angry as the teams matched onto the field, something that Ron noticed, too.
"I've never seen Snape look so mean," he told Hermione. "Look --- they're off. Ouch"
Someone had poked Ron in the back of the head. It was Malfoy.
"Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there."
Malfoy grinned broadly at Crabbe and Goyle.
"Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?"
Ron didn't answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Weasley hit a Bludger at him. Hermione, who had all her fingers crossed in her lap, was squinting fixedly at Harry, who was circling the game like a hawk, looking for the Snitch.
"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" said Malfoy a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money --- you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."
Neville went bright red but turned in his seat to face Malfoy.
"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."
"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something."
Ron's nerves were already stretched to the breaking point with anxiety about Harry.
"I'm warning you, Malfoy --- one more word ---"
...
"You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!" said Malfoy.
Ron snapped. Before Malfoy knew what was happening, Ron was on top of him, wrestling him to the ground. Neville hesitated, then clambered over the back of his seat to help.
"Come on, Harry!" Hermione screamed, leaping onto her seat to watch as Harry sped straight at Snape --- she didn't even notice Malfoy and Ron rolling around under her seat, or the scuffles and yelps coming from the whirl of fists that was Neville, Crabbe and Goyle.
Up in the air, Snape turned on his broomstick just in time to see something scarlet shoot past him, missing him by inches --- the next second, Harry had pulled out of the dive, his arm raised in triumph, the Snitch clasped in his hand.
...
Snape spat bitterly on the ground.
...
He'd done it, he'd shown Snape...
And speaking of Snape...
...
He recognized the figure's prowling walk. Snape, sneaking into the forest while everyone else was at dinner --- what was going on?
...
Gliding silently over the castle he saw Snape enter the forest at a run.
The trees were so thick he couldn't see where Snape had gone.
...
Below, in the shadowy clearing, stood Snape, but he wasn't alone. Quirrell was there, too. Harry strained to catch what they were saying.
"...d-don't know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus..."
"Oh, I thought we'd keep this private," said Snape, his voice icy. "Students aren't supposed to know about the Sorcerer's Stone, after all."
Harry leaned forward. Quirrell was mumbling something. Snape interrupted him.
"Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid's yet?"
"B-b-but Severus, I ---"
"You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell," said Snape, taking a step toward him.
"I-I don't know what you ---"
"You know perfectly well what I mean."
An owl hooted loudly, and Harry nearly fell out of the tree. He steadied himself in time to hear Snape say, "--- your little bit of hocus-pocus. I'm waiting."
"B-but I d-d-don't ---"
"Very well," Snape cut in. "We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to think things over and decided where your loyalties lie."
He threw his cloak over his head and strode out of the clearing.
...
"And I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed! He's still out cold but Madam Pomfrey says he'll be all right --- talk about showing Slytherin!"
...
"So we were right, it is the Sorcerer's Stone, and Snape's trying to force Quirrell to help him get it. He asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy --- and he said something about Quirrell's 'hocus-pocus' --- I reckon there are other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell that Snape needs to break through ---"
"So you mean the Stone's only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?" said Hermione in alarm.
Chapter Fourteen: Snape's Magic
Snape was sweeping about in his usual bad temper, which surely meant that the Stone was still safe.
...
"Hang on, I've forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape."
"Snape?"
"Yeah --- yer not still on abou' that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped protect the Stone, he's not about ter steal it."
...
If Snape had been in on protecting the Stone, it must have been easy to find out how the other teachers had guarded it. He probably knew everything --- except, it seemed, Quirrell's spell and how to get past Fluffy.
...
Malfoy was only a few feet away and he had stopped dead to listen. How much had he heard? Harry didn't like the look on Malfoy's face at all.
...
Even at a distance there was no mistaking him.
Malfoy had seen the dragon.
Something about the smile lurking on Malfoy's face during the next week made Harry, Ron, and Hermione very nervous.
...
"Malfoy could go to Dumbledore at any moment."
...
Anything to get rid of Norbert --- and Malfoy.
...
Malfoy told Madam Pomfrey he wanted to borrow one of my books so he could come have a good laugh at me. He kept threatening to tell her what really bit me --- I've told her it was a dog, but I don't think she believe me --- I shouldn't have hit him at the Quidditch match, that's why he's doing this."
...
"And we have got the invisibility cloak, Malfoy doesn't know about that."
...
Professor McGonagall, in a tartan bathrobe and a hair net, had Malfoy by the ear.
"Detention!" she shouted. "And twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how dare you ---"
"You don't understand, Professor. Harry Potter's coming --- he's got a dragon!"
"What utter rubbish! How dare you tell such lies! Come on --- I shall see Professor Snape about you, Malfoy!"
...
"Malfoy's got detention! I could sing!"
"Don't," Harry advised her.
Chuckling about Malfoy, they waited, Norbert thrashing abut in his crate.
...
No more dragon --- Malfoy in detention --- what could spoil their happiness?
Chapter Fifteen: Detention
"I was trying to find out to warn you, I heard Malfoy saying he was going to catch you, he said you had a drag---"
...
"You fed Draco Malfoy some cock-and-bull story about a dragon, trying to get him out of bed and into trouble. I've already caught him."
...
Even Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs turned on him, because everyone had been longing to see Slytherin lose the house cup. Everywhere Harry went, people pointed and didn't trouble to lower their voices as they insulted him. Slytherins, on the other hand, clapped as he walked past them, whistling and cheering, "Thanks Potter, we owe you one!"
...
All the same, he'd have gambled twelve Sorcerer's Stones that Snape had just left the room, and from what Harry had just heard, Snape would be walking with a new spring in his step --- Quirrell had given in at last.
...
"Snape's done it, then!" said Ron. "If Quirrell's told him how to break his Anti-Dark Force spell ---"
...
"Maybe Snape's found out how to get past him without asking Hagrid," said Ron, looking up at the thousands of books surrounding them.
...
"Quirrell's too scared to back us up. Snape's only got to say he doesn't know how the troll got in at Halloween and that he was nowhere near the third floor --- who do you think they'll believe, him or us? It's not exactly a secret we hate him, Dumbledore'll think we made it up to get him sacked. Filch wouldn't help us if his life depended on it, he's too friendly with Snape, and the more students get thrown out, the better, he'll think."
...
Filch was already there --- and so was Malfoy. Harry had also forgotten that Malfoy had gotten a detention, too.
...
At this, Neville let out a little moan, and Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks.
"The forest?" he repeated, and he didn't sound quite as cool as usual. "We can't go in there at night --- there's all sorts of things in there --- werewolves, I heard."
...
Malfoy now turned to Hagrid.
"I'm not going in that forest," he said, and Harry was pleased to hear the note of panic in his voice.
...
"But this is servant stuff, it's not for students to do. I thought we'd be copying lines or something, if my father knew I was doing this, he'd ---"
"---tell yer that's how it is at Hogwarts," Hagrid growled. "Copyin' lines! What good's that ter anyone? Yeh'll do summat useful or yeh'll get out. If yeh think yer father'd rather you were expelled, then get back off ter the castle an' pack. Go on!"
Malfoy didn't move. He looked at Hagrid furiously, but then dropped his gaze.
...
"And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?" said Malfoy, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.
...
"I want Fang," said Malfoy quickly, looking at Fang's long teeth.
"All right, but I warn yeh, he's a coward," said Hagrid. "So me, Harry, an' Hermione'll go one way an' Draco, Neville, an' Fang'll go the other."
...
A little way into it they reached a fork in the earth path, and Harry, Hermione, and Hagrid took the left path while Malfoy, Neville, and Fang took the right.
...
"I don't care if Malfoy has, but if something's got Neville... it's our fault he's here in the first place."
...
Malfoy, Neville, and Fang were with him. Hagrid was fuming. Malfoy, it seemed, had sneaked up behind Neville and grabbed him as a joke. Neville had panicked and sent up the sparks.
"We'll be lucky ter catch anythin' now, with the racket you two were makin'. Right, we're changin' groups --- Neville, you say with me an' Hermione, Harry, you go with Fang an' this idiot. I'm sorry," Hagrid added in a whisper to Harry, "but he'll have a harder time frightenin' you, an' we've gotta get this done."
So Harry set off into the heart of the forest with Malfoy and Fang. They walked for nearly half an hour, deeper and deeper into the forest, until the path became almost impossible to follow because the trees were so thick.
...
"Look, ---" he murmured, holding out his arm to stop Malfoy.
...
Then, out of the shadows, a hooded figure came crawling across the ground like some stalking beast. Harry, Malfoy, and Fang stood transfixed. The cloaked figure reached the unicorn, lowered its head over the wound in the animal's side, and began to drink its blood.
...
"AAAAAAAAAAARGH!"
Malfoy let out a terrible scream and bolted --- so did Fang. The hooded figure raised its head and looked right at Harry --- unicorn blood was dribbling down its front. It got to its feet and came swiftly toward Harry --- he couldn't move for fear.
Then a pain like he'd never felt before pierced his head; it was as though his scar was on fire.
...
"No," said Harry, startled by the odd question. "We've only used the horn and tail hair in Potions."
...
"Do you mean," Harry croaked, "that was Vol ---"
...
"Snape wants the stone for Voldemort... and Voldemort's waiting in the forest... and all this time we though Snape just wanted to get rich..."
"Stop saying the name!" said Ron in a terrified whisper, as if he thought Voldemort could hear them.
...
"They must show that Voldemort's coming back. ...Bane thinks Firenze should have let Voldemort kill me. ...I suppose that's written in the stars as well."
"Will you stop saying the name! Ron hissed.
"So all I've got to wait for now is Snape to steal the Stone," Harry went on feverishly, "then Voldemort will be happy to come and finish me off. ...Well, I suppose Bane'll be happy."
...
"Harry, everyone says Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of. With Dumbledore around, You-Know-Who won't touch you."
Chapter Sixteen: Through the Trapdoor
In years to come, Harry would never quite remember how he had managed to get through his exams when he half expected Voldemort to come bursting through the door at any moment.
...
Snape made them all nervous, breathing down their necks while they tried to remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion.
...
Neville thought Harry had a bad case of exam nerves because Harry couldn't sleep, but the truth was that Harry kept being woken by his old nightmare, except that it was now worse than ever because there was a hooded figure dripping blood in it.
...
The idea of Voldemort certainly scared them, but he didn't keep visiting them in their dreams, and they were so busy with their studying they didn't have much time to fret about what Snape of anyone else might be up to.
...
"Hagrid told that stranger how to get past Fluffy, and it was either Snape or Voldemort under that cloak --- it must've been easy, once he'd got Hagrid drunk."
...
"Professor, I think --- I know --- that Sn--- that someone's going to try and steal the Stone."
...
"Snape's going through the trapdoor tonight. He's found out everything he needs, and now he's got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that note, I bet the Ministry of Magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore turns up."
...
Snape was standing there.
"Good afternoon," he said smoothly.
They stared at him.
"You shouldn't be inside on a day like this," he said, with an odd, twisted smile.
"We were ---" Harry began, without any idea what he was going to say.
"You want to be more careful," said Snape. "Hanging around like this, people will think you're up to something. And Gryffindor really can't afford to lose any more points, can it?"
Harry flushed. They turned to go outside, but Snape called them back.
"Be warned, Potter --- any more nighttime wanderings and I will personally make sure you are expelled. Good day to you."
He strode off in the direction of the staffroom.
...
"One of us has got to keep an eye on Snape --- wait outside the staff room and follow him if he leaves it."
...
Harry had just said, "At least Hermione's on Snape's tail," when the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open and Hermione came in.
"I'm sorry, Harry!" she wailed. "Snape came out and asked me what I was doing, so I said I was waiting for Flitwick, and Snape went to get him, and I've only just got away, I don't know where Snape went."
...
"After what McGonagall and Snape have said?"
...
"If Snape gets hold of the Stone, Voldemort's coming back!"
...
"He'll flatten it, or turn it into a school for the Dark Arts!
...
"D'you think he'll leave you and your families alone if Gryffindor wins the house cup? If I get caught before I can get the Stone, well, I'll have to go back to the Dursley's and wait for Voldemort to find me there, it's only dying a bit later than I would have, because I'm never going over to the Dark Side!
...
"Voldemort killed my parents, remember?"
...
"Peeves," he said, in a hoarse whisper, "the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible."
...
"So sorry, your bloodiness, Mr. Baron, sir," he said greasily. "My mistake, my mistake --- I didn't see you --- of course I didn't, you're invisible --- forgive old Peevsie his little joke, sir."
"I have business here, Peeves," croaked Harry. "Stay away from this place tonight."
"I will, sir, I most certainly will," said Peeves, rising up in the air again. "Hope your business goes well, Baron, I'll not bother you."
...
"Snape's already got past Fluffy."
...
"Snape must have left it there."
...
"Oh, right!" said Hermione, and she whipped out her wand, waved it, muttered something, and sent a jet of the same bluebell flames she had used on Snape at the plant.
...
"Do you want to stop Snape or not?"
...
"Look, if you don't hurry up, he'll already have the Stone!"
...
"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..."
...
"Snape's," said Harry. "What do we have to do?"
...
Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,
Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,
One among us seven will let you move ahead,
Another will transport the drinker back instead,
Two among our number hold only nettle wine,
Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line.
Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,
To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:
First, however slyly the poison tries to hide
You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;
Second, different are those who stand at either end,
But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;
Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,
Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;
Fourth, the second left and the second on the right
Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.
...
"But Harry --- what if You-Know-Who's with him?"
...
There was already someone there --- but it wasn't Snape. It wasn't even Voldemort.
Chapter Seventeen: Voldemort's First Appearance
"But I thought --- Snape ---"
"Severus?" Quirrell laughed, and it wasn't his usual quivering treble, either, but cold and sharp. "Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn't he? So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor, st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?"
...
"But Snape tried to kill me!"
"No, no, no. I tried to kill you. You friend Miss Granger accidentally knocked me over as she rushed to set fire to Snape at that Quidditch match. She broke my eye contact with you. Another few seconds and I'd have got you off that broom. I'd have managed it before then if Snape hadn't been muttering a countercurse, trying to save you."
"Snape was trying to save me?"
"Of course," said Quirrell coolly. "Why do you think he wanted to referee your next match? He was trying to make sure I didn't do it again. Funny, really... he needn't have bothered. I couldn't do anything with Dumbledore watching. All the other teachers thought Snape was trying to stop Gryffindor from winning, he did make himself unpopular... and what a waste of time, when after all that, I'm going to kill you tonight."
...
"Unfortunately, while everyone else was running around looking for it, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off --- and not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that three-headed dog didn't even manage to bite Snape's leg off properly."
...
"I saw you and Snape in the forest ---" he blurted out.
"Yes," said Quirrell idly, walking around the mirror to look at the back. "He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I'd got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me --- as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side..."
...
"I see the Stone... I'm presenting it to my master... but where is it?"
...
"But Snape always seemed to hate me so much."
"Oh, he does," said Quirrell casually, "heavens, yes. He was at Hogwarts with your father, didn't you know? They loathed each other. But he never wanted you dead."
"But I heard you a few days ago, sobbing --- I thought Snape was threatening you..."
...
"Sometimes," he said, "I find it hard to follow my master's instructions --- he is a great wizard and I am weak ---"
"You mean he was there in the classroom with you?" Harry gasped.
"He is with me wherever I go," said Quirrell quietly. "I met him when I traveled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it. ... Since then, I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard on me." Quirrell shivered suddenly. "He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me... decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me..."
...
"What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!"
And to Harry's horror, a voice answered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself.
"Use the boy... Use the boy..."
...
But he hadn't walked five paces before a high voice spoke, though Quirrell wasn't moving his lips.
"He lies... He lies..."
...
The high voice spoke again.
"Let me speak to him... face-to-face..."
"Master, you are not strong enough!"
"I have strength enough... for this..."
...
Where there should have been a back to Quirrell's head, there was a face, the most terrible face Harry had ever seen. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.
"Harry Potter..." it whispered.
Harry tried to step backward but his legs wouldn't move.
"See what I have become?" the face said. "Mere shadow and vapor... I have form only when I can share another's body... but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds. ...Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks... you saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest... and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own. ...Now why don't you give me that Stone in your pocket?"
So he knew. The feeling suddenly surged back into Harry's legs. He stumbled backward.
"Don't be a fool," snarled the face. "Better save your own life and join me... or you'll meet the same end as your parents. ...They died begging me for mercy..."
"LIAR!" Harry shouted suddenly.
Quirrell was walking backward at him, so that Voldemort could still see him. The evil face was now smiling.
"How touching..." it hissed. "I always value bravery. ...Yes, boy, your parents were brave. ...I killed your father first, and he put up a courageous fight... but your mother needn't have died... she was trying to protect you. ...Now give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain."
"NEVER!"
Harry sprang toward the flame door, but Voldemort screamed "SEIZE HIM!" and the next second, Harry felt Quirrell's hand close on his wrist. At once, a needle-sharp pain seared across Harry's scar; his head felt as though it was about to split in tow; he yelled struggling with all his might, and to his surprise, Quirrell let go of him. The pain in his head had lessened --- he looked around wildly to see where Quirrell had gone, and saw him hunched in pain, looking at his fingers --- they were blistering before his eyes.
"Seize him! SEIZE HIM!" shrieked Voldemort again, and Quirrell lunged, knocking Harry clean off his feet, landing on top of him, both hands around Harry's neck --- Harry's scar was almost blinding him with pain, yet he could see Quirrell howling in agony.
"Master, I cannot hold him --- my hands --- my hands!"
...
"Then kill him, fool, and be done!" screeched Voldemort.
Quirrell raised his hand to preform a deadly curse, but Harry, by instinct, reached up and grabbed Quirrell's face ---
"AAAARGH!"
...
Quirrell screamed and tried to throw Harry off --- the pain in Harry's head was building --- he couldn't see --- he could only hear Quirrell's terrible shrieks and Voldemort's yells of, "KILL HIM! KILL HIM!" and other voices, maybe in Harry's own head, crying, "Harry! Harry!"
...
"I've been thinking... Sir --- even if the Stone's gone, Vol-, I mean, You-Know-Who ---"
"Call him Voldemort, Harry."
"Yes, sir. Well, Voldemort's going to try other ways of coming back, isn't he? I mean, he hasn't gone, has he?"
"No, Harry, he has not. He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share... not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. He left Quirrell to die; he shows just as little mercy to his followers as his enemies. Nevertheless, Harry, while you may only have delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time --- and if he is delayed again, and again, why, he may never return to power."
...
"Well... Voldemort said that he only killed my mother because she tried to stop him from killing me. But why would he want to kill me in the first place?"
...
"If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realize that love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark.
"Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason."
...
"Quirrell and Snape ---"
"Professor Snape, Harry."
"Yes, him --- Quirrell said he hates me because he hated my father. Is that true?"
"Well, they did rather detest each other. Not unlike yourself and Mr. Malfoy. And then, your father did something Snape could never forgive."
"What?"
"He saved his life."
"What?
"Yes..." said Dumbledore dreamily. "Funny, the way people's minds work, isn't it? Professor Snape couldn't bear being in your father's debt. ...I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father even. Then he could go back to hating your father's memory in peace..."
...
Harry told them everything: Quirrell; the mirror; the Stone; ad Voldemort.
...
"It's almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could..."
...
"The points are all in and Slytherin won, of course --- you missed the last Quidditch match, we were steamrollered by Ravenclaw without you --- but the food'll be good."
...
"Hagrid, he'd have found out somehow, this is Voldemort we're talking about, he'd have found out even if you hadn't told him."
"Yeh could have died!" sobbed Hagrid. "An' don' say the name!"
"VOLDEMORT!" Harry bellowed, and Hagrid was so shocked, he stopped crying. "I've met him and I'm calling him by his name. Please cheer up, Hagrid, we saved the Stone, it's gone, he can't use it."
....
It was decked out in Slytherin colors of green and solver to celebrate Slytherin's winning the house cup for the seventh year in a row. A huge banner showing the Slytherin serpent covered the wall behind the High Table.
...
"In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two."
A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table. Harry could see Draco Malfoy banging his goblet on the table. It was a sickening sight.
"Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin," said Dumbledore. "However, recent events must be taken into account."
The room went very still. The Slytherins' smiles had faded a little.
...
Those who could add up while yelling themselves hoarse knew that Gryffindor now had four hundred and seventy-two points --- exactly the same as Slytherin.
...
Harry, still cheering, nudged Ron in the ribs and pointed at Malfoy, who couldn't have looked more stunned and horrified if he'd just had the Body-Bind Curse put on him.
"Which means," Dumbledore called over the storm of applause, for even Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were celebrating the downfall of Slytherin, "we need a little change of decoration."
He clapped his hands. In an instant, the green hangings became scarlet and the silver became gold; the huge Slytherin serpent vanished and a towering Gryffindor lion took its place. Snape was shaking Professor McGonagall's hand, with a horrible, forced smile. He caught Harry's eye and Harry knew at once that Snape's feelings toward him hadn't changed on jot.
...
They had hoped that Goyle, who was almost as stupid as he was mean, might be thrown out, but he had passed, too.