Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone By J. K. Rowling chapter one the Boy Who Lived



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

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’ —” 
Hagrid suddenly pulled out a very dirty, spotted handkerchief and blew his nose with a sound 
like a foghorn. 
“Sorry,” he said. “But it’s that sad — knew yer mum an’ dad, an’ nicer people yeh couldn’t find 
— anywa…
“You-Know-Who killed ‘em. An’ then — an’ this is the real myst’ry of the thing — he tried to 
kill you, too. Wanted ter 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 you 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. 
Hagrid was watching him sadly. 
“Took yeh from the ruined house myself, on Dumbledore’s orders. Brought yeh ter this lot… .” 
“Load of old tosh,” said Uncle Vernon. Harry jumped; he had almost forgotten that the Dursleys 
were there. Uncle Vernon certainly seemed to have got back his courage. He was glaring at 
Hagrid and his fists were clenched. 
“Now, you listen here, boy,” he snarled, “I accept there’s something strange about you, probably 
nothing a good beating wouldn’t have cured — and as for all this about your parents, well, they 
were weirdoes, no denying it, and the world’s better off without them in my opinion — asked for 
all they got, getting mixed up with these wizarding types — just what I expected, always knew 
they’d come to a sticky end —” 
But at that moment, Hagrid leapt from the sofa and drew a battered pink umbrella from inside his 
coat. Pointing this at Uncle Vernon like a sword, he said, “I’m warning you, Dursley — I’m 
warning you — one more word…” 
In danger of being speared on the end of an umbrella by a bearded giant, Uncle Vernon’s 
courage failed again; he flattened himself against the wall and fell silent. 
“That’s better,” said Hagrid, breathing heavily and sitting back down on the sofa, which this time 
sagged right down to the floor. 
Harry, meanwhile, still had questions to ask, hundreds of them. 
“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 somethin’ about you stumped him


all right.” 
Hagrid looked at Harry with warmth and respect blazing in his eyes, but Harry, instead of feeling 
pleased and proud, felt quite sure there had been a horrible mistake. A wizard? Him? How could 
he possibly be? He’d spent his life being clouted by Dudley, and bullied by Aunt Petunia and 
Uncle Vernon; if he was really a wizard, why hadn’t they been turned into warty toads every 
time they’d tried to lock him in his cupboard? If he’d once defeated the greatest sorcerer in the 
world, how come Dudley had always been able to kick him around like a football? 
“Hagrid,” he said quietly, “I think you must have made a mistake. I don’t think I can be a 
wizard.” 
To his surprise, Hagrid chuckled. 
“Not a wizard, eh? Never made things happen when you was scared or angry?” 
Harry looked into the fire. Now he came to think about it… every odd thing that had ever made 
his aunt and uncle furious with him had happened when he, Harry, had been upset or angry… 
chased by Dudley’s gang, he had somehow found himself out of their reach… dreading going to 
school with that ridiculous haircut, he’d managed to make it grow back… and the very last time 
Dudley had hit him, hadn’t he got his revenge, without even realizing he was doing it? Hadn’t he 
set a boa constrictor on him? 
Harry looked back at Hagrid, smiling, and saw that Hagrid was positively beaming at him. 
“See?” said Hagrid. “Harry Potter, not a wizard — you wait, you’ll be right famous at 
Hogwarts.” 
But Uncle Vernon wasn’t going to give in without a fight. 
“Haven’t I told you he’s not going?” he hissed. “He’s going to Stonewall High and he’ll be 
grateful for it. I’ve read those letters and he needs all sorts of rubbish — spell books and wands 
and —” 
“If he wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won’t stop him,” growled Hagrid. “Stop Lily an’ 
James Potter’s son goin’ ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. His name’s been down ever since he was born. 
He’s off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and he 
won’t know himself. He’ll be with youngsters of his own sort, fer a change, an’ he’ll be under 
the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had Albus Dumbled—” 
“I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HIM MAGIC 
TRICKS!” yelled Uncle Vernon. 
But he had finally gone too far. Hagrid seized his umbrella and whirled it over his head, 
“NEVER —” he thundered, “— INSULT — ALBUS — DUMBLEDORE — IN — FRONT — 
OF — ME!” 


He brought the umbrella swishing down through the air to point at Dudley — there was a flash of 
violet light, a sound like a firecracker, a sharp squeal, and the next second, Dudley was dancing 
on the spot with his hands clasped over his fat bottom, howling in pain. When he turned his back 
on them, Harry saw a curly pig’s tail poking through a hole in his trousers. 
Uncle Vernon roared. Pulling Aunt Petunia and Dudley into the other room, he cast one last 
terrified look at Hagrid and slammed the door behind them. 
Hagrid looked down at his umbrella and stroked his beard. 
“Shouldn’ta lost me temper,” he said ruefully, “but it didn’t work anyway. Meant ter turn him 
into a pig, but I suppose he was so much like a pig anyway there wasn’t much left ter do.” 
He cast a sideways look at Harry under his bushy eyebrows. 
“Be grateful if yeh didn’t mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts,” he said. “I’m — er — not 
supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin’. I was allowed ter do a bit ter follow yeh an’ get yer 
letters to yeh an’ stuff — one o’ the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job.” 
“Why aren’t you supposed to do magic?” asked Harry. 
“Oh, well — I was at Hogwarts meself but I — er — got expelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me 
third year. They snapped me wand in half an’ everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as 
gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore.” 
“Why were you expelled?” 
“It’s gettin’ late and we’ve got lots ter do tomorrow,” said Hagrid loudly. “Gotta get up ter town, 
get all yer books an’ that.” 
He took off his thick black coat and threw it to Harry. 
“You can kip under that,” he said. “Don’ mind if it wriggles a bit, I think I still got a couple o’ 
doormice in one o’ the pockets.” 

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