Harry Potter 1 Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

HP 1 - Harry Potter and the
Sorcerer's Stone

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CHAPTER FOUR
THE KEEPER OF THE KEYS
B OOM. They knocked again. Dudley jerked awake.
“Where’s the cannon?” he said stupidly.
There was a crash behind them and Uncle Vernon came skidding into the
room. He was holding a rifle in his hands – now they knew what had been in the
long, thin package he had brought with them.
“Who’s there?” he shouted. “I warn you — I’m armed!”
There was a pause. Then —
SMASH!
The door was hit with such force that it swung clean off its hinges and
with a deafening crash landed flat on the floor.
           A  giant  of  a  man  was  standing  in  the  doorway.  His  face  was  almost
completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard, but
you could make out his eyes, glinting like black beetles under all the hair.
The giant squeezed his way into the hut, stooping so that his head just
brushed the ceiling. He bent down, picked up the door, and fitted it easily back
into its frame. The noise of the storm outside dropped a little. He turned to look
at them all.
“Couldn’t make us a cup o’ tea, could yeh? It’s not been an easy journey.
…”
He strode over to the sofa where Dudley sat frozen with fear.
“Budge up, yeh great lump,” said the stranger.
Dudley squeaked and ran to hide behind his mother, who was crouching,
terrified, behind Uncle Vernon.
“An’ here’s Harry!” said the giant.
           Harry  looked  up  into  the  fierce,  wild,  shadowy  face  and  saw  that  the
beetle eyes were crinkled in a smile.
“Las’ time I saw you, you was only a baby,” said the giant. “Yeh look a
lot like yer dad, but yeh’ve got yer mom’s eyes.”
Uncle Vernon made a funny rasping noise.
“I demand that you leave at once, sir!” he said. “You are breaking and
entering!”
“Ah, shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune,” said the giant; he reached over

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the back of the sofa, jerked the gun out of Uncle Vernon’s hands, bent it into a
knot as easily as if it had been made of rubber, and threw it into a corner of the
room.
Uncle Vernon made another funny noise, like a mouse being trodden on.
“Anyway — Harry,” said the giant, turning his back on the Dursleys, “a
very  happy  birthday  to  yeh.  Got  summat  fer  yeh  here  —  I  mighta  sat  on  it  at
some point, but it’ll taste all right.”
From an inside pocket of his black overcoat he pulled a slightly squashed
box. Harry opened it with trembling fingers. Inside was a large, sticky chocolate
cake with Happy Birthday Harry written on it in green icing.
Harry looked up at the giant. He meant to say thank you, but the words
got lost on the way to his mouth, and what he said instead was, “Who are you?”
The giant chuckled.
“True, I haven’t introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and
Grounds at Hogwarts.”
He held out an enormous hand and shook Harry’s whole arm.
“What about that tea then, eh?” he said, rubbing his hands together. “I’d
not say no ter summat stronger if yeh’ve got it, mind.”
His eyes fell on the empty grate with the shriveled chip bags in it and he
snorted. He bent down over the fireplace; they couldn’t see what he was doing
but when he drew back a second later, there was a roaring fire there. It filled the
whole damp hut with flickering light and Harry felt the warmth wash over him
as though he’d sunk into a hot bath.
The giant sat back down on the sofa, which sagged under his weight, and
began taking all sorts of things out of the pockets of his coat: a copper kettle, a
squashy  package  of  sausages,  a  poker,  a  teapot,  several  chipped  mugs,  and  a
bottle of some amber liquid that he took a swig from before starting to make tea.
Soon the hut was full of the sound and smell of sizzling sausage. Nobody said a
thing while the giant was working, but as he slid the first six fat, juicy, slightly
burnt  sausages  from  the  poker,  Dudley  fidgeted  a  little.  Uncle  Vernon  said
sharply, “Don’t touch anything he gives you, Dudley.”
The giant chuckled darkly.
“Yer great puddin’ of a son don’ need fattenin’ anymore, Dursley, don’
worry.”
He passed the sausages to Harry, who was so hungry he had never tasted
anything so wonderful, but he still couldn’t take his eyes off the giant. Finally, as
nobody  seemed  about  to  explain  anything,  he  said,  “I’m  sorry,  but  I  still  don’t
really know who you are.”
The giant took a gulp of tea and wiped his mouth with the back of his

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hand.
           “Call  me  Hagrid,”  he  said,  “everyone  does.  An’  like  I  told  yeh,  I’m
Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts — yeh’ll know all about Hogwarts, o’ course.
“Er — no,” said Harry.
Hagrid looked shocked.
“Sorry,” Harry said quickly.
           “Sorry?”  barked  Hagrid,  turning  to  stare  at  the  Dursleys,  who  shrank
back into the shadows. “It’s them as should be sorry! I knew yeh weren’t gettin’
yer  letters  but  I  never  thought  yeh  wouldn’t  even  know  abou’  Hogwarts,  fer
cryin’ out loud! Did yeh never wonder where yer parents learned it all?”
“All what?” asked Harry.
“ALL WHAT?” Hagrid thundered. “Now wait jus’ one second!”
He had leapt to his feet. In his anger he seemed to fill the whole hut. The
Dursleys were cowering against the wall.
“Do you mean ter tell me,” he growled at the Dursleys, “that this boy —
this boy! — knows nothin’ abou’ — about ANYTHING?”
Harry thought this was going a bit far. He had been to school, after all,
and his marks weren’t bad.
“I know some things,” he said. “I can, you know, do math and stuff.”
But Hagrid simply waved his hand and said, “About our world, I mean.
Your world. My world. Yer parents’ world.”
“What world?”
Hagrid looked as if he was about to explode.
“DURSLEY!” he boomed.
           Uncle  Vernon,  who  had  gone  very  pale,  whispered  something  that
sounded like “Mimblewimble.” Hagrid stared wildly at Harry.
“But yeh must know about yer mom and dad,” he said. “I mean, they’re
famous. You’re famous.”
“What? My — my mom and dad weren’t famous, were they?”
“Yeh don’ know...yeh don’ know....” Hagrid ran his fingers through his
hair, fixing Harry with a bewildered stare.
“Yeh don’ know what yeh are?” he said finally.
Uncle Vernon suddenly found his voice.
“Stop!” he commanded. “Stop right there, sir! I forbid you to tell the boy
anything!”
A braver man than Vernon Dursley would have quailed under the furious
look Hagrid now gave him; when Hagrid spoke, his every syllable trembled with
rage.
“You never told him? Never told him what was in the letter Dumbledore

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left fer him? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Dursley! An’ you’ve kept it
from him all these years?”
“Kept what from me?” said Harry eagerly.
“STOP! I FORBID YOU!” yelled Uncle Vernon in panic.
Aunt Petunia gave a gasp of horror.
           “Ah,  go  boil  yer  heads,  both  of  yeh,”  said  Hagrid.  “Harry  —  yer  a
wizard.”
           There  was  silence  inside  the  hut.  Only  the  sea  and  the  whistling  wind
could be heard.
“I’m a what?” gasped Harry.
“A wizard, o’ course,” said Hagrid, sitting back down on the sofa, which
groaned  and  sank  even  lower,  “an’  a  thumpin’  good  ‘un,  I’d  say,  once  yeh’ve
been trained up a bit. With a mum an’ dad like yours, what else would yeh be?
An’ I reckon it’s abou’ time yeh read yer letter.”
           Harry  stretched  out  his  hand  at  last  to  take  the  yellowish  envelope,
addressed  in  emerald  green  to  Mr.  H.  Potter,  The  Floor,  Hut-on-the-Rock,  The
Sea. He pulled out the letter and read:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
(Order  of  Merlin,  First  Class,  Grand  Sorc.,  Chf.  Warlock,  Supreme
Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Potter,
We  are  pleased  to  inform  you  that  you  have  been  accepted  at  Hogwarts
School  of  Witchcraft  and  Wizardry.  Please  find  enclosed  a  list  of  all  necessary
books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress
Questions  exploded  inside  Harry’s  head  like  fireworks  and  he  couldn’t
decide  which  to  ask  first.  After  a  few  minutes  he  stammered,  “What  does  it
mean, they await my owl?”
“Gallopin’ Gorgons, that reminds me,” said Hagrid, clapping a hand to
his forehead with enough force to knock over a cart horse, and from yet another

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pocket inside his overcoat he pulled an owl — a real, live, rather ruffled-looking
owl — a long quill, and a roll of parchment. With his tongue between his teeth
he scribbled a note that Harry could read upside down:
Dear Professor Dumbledore,
Given Harry his letter.
Taking him to buy his things tomorrow.
Weather’s horrible. Hope you’re well.
Hagrid
Hagrid  rolled  up  the  note,  gave  it  to  the  owl,  which  clamped  it  in  its  beak,
went to the door, and threw the owl out into the storm. Then he came back and
sat down as though this was as normal as talking on the telephone.
Harry realized his mouth was open and closed it quickly.
           “Where  was  I?”  said  Hagrid,  but  at  that  moment,  Uncle  Vernon,  still
ashen-faced but looking very angry, moved into the firelight.
“He’s not going,” he said.
Hagrid grunted.
“I’d like ter see a great Muggle like you stop him,” he said.
“A what?” said Harry, interested.
           “A  Muggle,”  said  Hagrid,  “it’s  what  we  call  nonmagic  folk  like  them.
An’ it’s your bad luck you grew up in a family o’ the biggest Muggles I ever laid
eyes on.”
“We swore when we took him in we’d put a stop to that rubbish,” said
Uncle Vernon, “swore we’d stamp it out of him! Wizard indeed!”
“You knew?” said Harry. “You knew I’m a — a wizard?”
“Knew!” shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly. “Knew! Of course we knew!
How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter
just like that and disappeared off to that — that school — and came home every
vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the
only  one  who  saw  her  for  what  she  was  —  a  freak!  But  for  my  mother  and
father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in
the family!”
She stopped to draw a deep breath and then went ranting on. It seemed
she had been wanting to say all this for years.
“Then she met that Potter at school and they left and got married and had
you, and of course I knew you’d be just the same, just as strange, just as — as —
abnormal — and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we
got landed with you!”

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           Harry  had  gone  very  white.  As  soon  as  he  found  his  voice  he  said,
“Blown up? You told me they died in a car crash!”
“CAR CRASH!” roared Hagrid, jumping up so angrily that the Dursleys
scuttled back to their corner. “How could a car crash kill Lily an’ James Potter?
It’s an outrage! A scandal! Harry Potter not knowin’ his own story when every
kid in our world knows his name!”
“But why? What happened?” Harry asked urgently.
The anger faded from Hagrid’s face. He looked suddenly anxious.
“I never expected this,” he said, in a low, worried voice. “I had no idea,
when Dumbledore told me there might be trouble gettin’ hold of yeh, how much
yeh didn’t know. Ah, Harry, I don’ know if I’m the right person ter tell yeh —
but someone’s gotta — yeh can’t go off ter Hogwarts not knowin’.”
He threw a dirty look at the Dursleys.
“Well, it’s best yeh know as much as I can tell yeh — mind, I can’t tell
yeh everythin’, it’s a great myst’ry, parts of it.…”
           He  sat  down,  stared  into  the  fire  for  a  few  seconds,  and  then  said,  “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’ gargoyles, 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...”
Hagrid gulped, but no words came out.
“Could you write it down?” Harry suggested.
“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.

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“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 — anyway….
“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.

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“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

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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.

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“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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