Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

partner was Seamus Finnigan (which was a relief, because Neville 
had been trying to catch his eye). Ron, however, was to be working 
with Hermione Granger. It was hard to tell whether Ron or 
Hermione was angrier about this. She hadn’t spoken to either of 
them since the day Harry’s broomstick had arrived. 
“Now, don’t forget that nice wrist movement we’ve been practic-
ing!” squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of 
books as usual. “Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And 
saying the magic words properly is very important, too — never 
forget Wizard Baruffio, who said ‘s’ instead of ‘f’ and found himself 
on the floor with a buffalo on his chest.” 
It was very difficult. Harry and Seamus swished and flicked, but 
the feather they were supposed to be sending skyward just lay on 
the desktop. Seamus got so impatient that he prodded it with his 
wand and set fire to it — Harry had to put it out with his hat. 
Ron, at the next table, wasn’t having much more luck. 
“
Wingardium Leviosa
!”
 
he shouted, waving his long arms like a 
windmill. 
“You’re saying it wrong,” Harry heard Hermione snap. “It’s 
Wing-
gar
-dium Levi-
o
-sa, make the ‘gar’ nice and long.” 
“You do it, then, if you’re so clever,” Ron snarled. 
Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her gown, flicked her wand, 
and said, “
Wingardium Leviosa
!” 
Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above 
their heads. 
“Oh, well done!” cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. “Everyone 
see here, Miss Granger’s done it!” 
Ron was in a very bad mood by the end of the class. 

---

CHAPTER TEN 
‘
172 
‘
“It’s no wonder no one can stand her,” he said to Harry as they 
pushed their way into the crowded corridor, “she’s a nightmare, 
honestly.” 
Someone knocked into Harry as they hurried past him. It was 
Hermione. Harry caught a glimpse of her face — and was startled 
to see that she was in tears. 
“I think she heard you.” 
“So?” said Ron, but he looked a bit uncomfortable. “She must’ve 
noticed she’s got no friends.” 
Hermione didn’t turn up for the next class and wasn’t seen all af-
ternoon. On their way down to the Great Hall for the Halloween 
feast, Harry and Ron overheard Parvati Patil telling her friend 
Lavender that Hermione was crying in the girls’ bathroom and 
wanted to be left alone. Ron looked still more awkward at this, but 
a moment later they had entered the Great Hall, where the Hal-
loween decorations put Hermione out of their minds. 
A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a 
thousand more swooped over the tables in low black clouds, mak-
ing the candles in the pumpkins stutter. The feast appeared sud-
denly on the golden plates, as it had at the start-of-term banquet. 
Harry was just helping himself to a baked potato when Professor 
Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror 
on his face. Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore’s 
chair, slumped against the table, and gasped, “Troll — in the dun-
geons — thought you ought to know.” 
He then sank to the floor in a dead faint. 
There was an uproar. It took several purple firecrackers explod-
ing from the end of Professor Dumbledore’s wand to bring silence. 

---

HALLOWEEN 
‘
173 
‘
“Prefects,” he rumbled, “lead your Houses back to the dormito-
ries immediately!” 
Percy was in his element. 
“Follow me! Stick together, first years! No need to fear the troll 
if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first 
years coming through! Excuse me, I’m a prefect!” 
“How could a troll get in?” Harry asked as they climbed the 
stairs. 
“Don’t ask me, they’re supposed to be really stupid,” said Ron. 
“Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke.” 
They passed different groups of people hurrying in different di-
rections. As they jostled their way through a crowd of confused 
Hufflepuffs, Harry suddenly grabbed Ron’s arm. 
“I’ve just thought — Hermione.” 
“What about her?” 
“She doesn’t know about the troll.” 
Ron bit his lip. 
“Oh, all right,” he snapped. “But Percy’d better not see us.” 
Ducking down, they joined the Hufflepuffs going the other way, 
slipped down a deserted side corridor, and hurried off toward the 
girls’ bathroom. They had just turned the corner when they heard 
quick footsteps behind them. 
“Percy!” hissed Ron, pulling Harry behind a large stone griffin. 
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?” 
“Search me.” 

---

CHAPTER TEN 
‘
174 
‘
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. 
“Can you smell something?” 
Harry sniffed and a foul stench reached his nostrils, a mixture of 
old socks and the kind of public toilet no one seems to clean. 
And then they heard it — a low grunting, and the shuffling 
footfalls of gigantic feet. Ron pointed — at the end of a passage to 
the left, something huge was moving toward them. They shrank 
into the shadows and watched as it emerged into a patch of moon-
light. 
It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, gran-
ite gray, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head 
perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks 
with flat, horny feet. The smell coming from it was incredible. It 
was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor 
because its arms were so long. 
The troll stopped next to a doorway and peered inside. It wag-
gled its long ears, making up its tiny mind, then slouched slowly 
into the room. 
“The key’s in the lock,” Harry muttered. “We could lock it in.” 
“Good idea,” said Ron nervously. 
They edged toward the open door, mouths dry, praying the troll 
wasn’t about to come out of it. With one great leap, Harry man-
aged to grab the key, slam the door, and lock it. 
“
Yes
!” 
Flushed with their victory, they started to run back up the pas- 

---

HALLOWEEN 
‘
175 
‘
sage, but as they reached the corner they heard something that 
made their hearts stop — a high, petrified scream — and it was 
coming from the chamber they’d just chained up. 
“Oh, no,” said Ron, pale as the Bloody Baron. 
“It’s the girls’ bathroom!” Harry gasped. 
“