Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

You said You-Know-Who’s name
!” said Ron, sounding both 
shocked and impressed. “I’d have thought you, of all people —” 
“I’m not trying to be 
brave
or anything, saying the name,” said 
Harry, “I just never knew you shouldn’t. See what I mean? I’ve got 
loads to learn. . . . I bet,” he added, voicing for the first time some-
thing that had been worrying him a lot lately, “I bet I’m the worst 
in the class.” 
“You won’t be. There’s loads of people who come from Muggle 
families and they learn quick enough.” 
While they had been talking, the train had carried them out 
of London. Now they were speeding past fields full of cows and 

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THE JOURNEY FROM PLATFORM 
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101 
‘
sheep. They were quiet for a time, watching the fields and lanes 
flick past. 
Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in 
the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door 
and said, “Anything off the cart, dears?” 
Harry, who hadn’t had any breakfast, leapt to his feet, but Ron’s 
ears went pink again and he muttered that he’d brought sand-
wiches. Harry went out into the corridor. 
He had never had any money for candy with the Dursleys, and 
now that he had pockets rattling with gold and silver he was ready 
to buy as many Mars Bars as he could carry — but the woman 
didn’t have Mars Bars. What she did have were Bertie Bott’s Every 
Flavor Beans, Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, 
Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands, and a number 
of other strange things Harry had never seen in his life. Not want-
ing to miss anything, he got some of everything and paid the 
woman eleven silver Sickles and seven bronze Knuts. 
Ron stared as Harry brought it all back in to the compartment 
and tipped it onto an empty seat. 
“Hungry, are you?” 
“Starving,” said Harry, taking a large bite out of a pumpkin 
pasty. 
Ron had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There 
were four sandwiches inside. He pulled one of them apart and said, 
“She always forgets I don’t like corned beef.” 
“Swap you for one of these,” said Harry, holding up a pasty. “Go 
on —” 
“You don’t want this, its all dry,” said Ron. “She hasn’t got much 
time,” he added quickly, “you know, with five of us.” 

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CHAPTER SIX 
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102 
‘
“Go on, have a pasty,” said Harry, who had never had any-
thing to share before or, indeed, anyone to share it with. It was 
a nice feeling, sitting there with Ron, eating their way through 
all Harry’s pasties, cakes, and candies (the sandwiches lay for-
gotten). 
“What are these?” Harry asked Ron, holding up a pack of 
Chocolate Frogs. “They’re not 
really
frogs, are they?” He was start-
ing to feel that nothing would surprise him. 
“No,” said Ron. “But see what the card is. I’m missing Agrippa.” 
“What?” 
“Oh, of course, you wouldn’t know — Chocolate Frogs have 
cards inside them, you know, to collect — famous witches and 
wizards. I’ve got about five hundred, but I haven’t got Agrippa or 
Ptolemy.” 
Harry unwrapped his Chocolate Frog and picked up the card. It 
showed a man’s face. He wore half-moon glasses, had a long, 
crooked nose, and flowing silver hair, beard, and mustache. Under-
neath the picture was the name Albus Dumbledore. 
“So 
this
is Dumbledore!” said Harry. 
“Don’t tell me you’d never heard of Dumbledore!” said Ron. 
“Can I have a frog? I might get Agrippa — thanks —” 
Harry turned over his card and read: 
ALBUS DUMBLEDORE 
currently headmaster of hogwarts 
C
onsidered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, 
Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the

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‘
Dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the 
twelve uses of dragon’s blood, and his work on alchemy 
with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore 
enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling. 
Harry turned the card back over and saw, to his astonishment, that 
Dumbledore’s face had disappeared. 
“He’s gone!” 
“Well, you can’t expect him to hang around all day,” said Ron. 
“He’ll be back. No, I’ve got Morgana again and I’ve got about six 
of her . . . do you want it? You can start collecting.” 
Ron’s eyes strayed to the pile of Chocolate Frogs waiting to be 
unwrapped. 
“Help yourself,” said Harry. “But in, you know, the Muggle 
world, people just stay put in photos.” 
“Do they? What, they don’t move at all?” Ron sounded amazed. 
“
Weird
!” 
Harry stared as Dumbledore sidled back into the picture on his 
card and gave him a small smile. Ron was more interested in eating 
the frogs than looking at the Famous Witches and Wizards cards, 
but Harry couldn’t keep his eyes off them. Soon he had not only 
Dumbledore and Morgana, but Hengist of Woodcraft, Alberic 
Grunnion, Circe, Paracelsus, and Merlin. He finally tore his eyes 
away from the druidess Cliodna, who was scratching her nose, to 
open a bag of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans. 
“You want to be careful with those,” Ron warned Harry. “When 
they say every flavor, they 
mean
every flavor — you know, you get 
all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and mar- 

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CHAPTER SIX 
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‘
malade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George 
reckons he had a booger-flavored one once.” 
Ron picked up a green bean, looked at it carefully, and bit into a 
corner. 
“Bleaaargh — see? Sprouts.” 
They had a good time eating the Every Flavor Beans. Harry got 
toast, coconut, baked bean, strawberry, curry, grass, coffee, sardine, 
and was even brave enough to nibble the end off a funny gray one 
Ron wouldn’t touch, which turned out to be pepper. 
The countryside now flying past the window was becoming 
wilder. The neat fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting 
rivers, and dark green hills. 
There was a knock on the door of their compartment and the 
round-faced boy Harry had passed on platform nine and three-
quarters came in. He looked tearful. 
“Sorry,” he said, “but have you seen a toad at all?” 
When they shook their heads, he wailed, “I’ve lost him! He 
keeps getting away from me!” 
“He’ll turn up,” said Harry. 
“Yes,” said the boy miserably. “Well, if you see him . . .” 
He left. 
“Don’t know why he’s so bothered,” said Ron. “If I’d brought a 
toad I’d lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, 
so I can’t talk.” 
The rat was still snoozing on Ron’s lap. 
“He might have died and you wouldn’t know the difference,” said 
Ron in disgust. “I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him 
more interesting, but the spell didn’t work. I’ll show you, look . . .” 

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105 
‘
He rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very 
battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something 
white was glinting at the end. 
“Unicorn hair’s nearly poking out. Anyway —” 
He had just raised his wand when the compartment door slid 
open again. The toadless boy was back, but this time he had a girl 
with him. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes. 
“Has anyone seen a toad? Neville’s lost one,” she said. She had a 
bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front 
teeth. 
“We’ve already told him we haven’t seen it,” said Ron, but the 
girl wasn’t listening, she was looking at the wand in his hand. 
“Oh, are you doing magic? Let’s see it, then.” 
She sat down. Ron looked taken aback. 
“Er — all right.” 
He cleared his throat. 
“