Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

One Thousand Magical
Herbs and Fungi,
didn’t look up until he heard Ron say, “Hagrid! 
What are you doing in the library?” 
Hagrid shuffled into view, hiding something behind his back. 
He looked very out of place in his moleskin overcoat. 
“Jus’ lookin’,” he said, in a shifty voice that got their interest at 
once. “An’ what’re you lot up ter?” He looked suddenly suspicious. 
“Yer not still lookin’ fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?” 

---

CHAPTER FOURTEEN 
‘
230 
‘
“Oh, we found out who he is ages ago,” said Ron impressively. 
“
And
we know what that dog’s guarding, it’s a Sorcerer’s St —” 
“
Shhhh
!” Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was lis-
tening. “Don’ go shoutin’ about it, what’s the matter with yeh?” 
“There are a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter of 
fact,” said Harry, “about what’s guarding the Stone apart from 
Fluffy —” 
“SHHHH!” said Hagrid again. “Listen — come an’ see me later, 
I’m not promisin’ I’ll tell yeh anythin’, mind, but don’ go rabbitin’ 
about it in here, students aren’ s’pposed ter know. They’ll think I’ve 
told yeh —” 
“See you later, then,” said Harry. 
Hagrid shuffled off. 
“What was he hiding behind his back?” said Hermione thought-
fully. 
“Do you think it had anything to do with the Stone?” 
“I’m going to see what section he was in,” said Ron, who’d had 
enough of working. He came back a minute later with a pile of 
books in his arms and slammed them down on the table. 
“
Dragons
!” he whispered. “Hagrid was looking up stuff about 
dragons! Look at these: 
Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland; 
From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper’s Guide.
” 
“Hagrid’s always wanted a dragon, he told me so the first time I 
ever met him,” said Harry. 
“But it’s against our laws,” said Ron. “Dragon breeding was out-
lawed by the Warlocks’ Convention of 1709, everyone knows that. 
Its hard to stop Muggles from noticing us if we’re keeping dragons 
in the back garden — anyway, you can’t tame dragons, it’s dan- 

---

NORBERT THE 
NORWEGIAN RIDGEBACK 
‘
231 
‘
gerous. You should see the burns Charlie’s got off wild ones in Ro-
mania.” 
“But there aren’t wild dragons in 
Britain
?” said Harry. 
“Of course there are,” said Ron. “Common Welsh Green and 
Hebridean Blacks. The Ministry of Magic has a job hushing them 
up, I can tell you. Our kind have to keep putting spells on Muggles 
who’ve spotted them, to make them forget.” 
“So what on earth’s Hagrid up to?” said Hermione. 
When they knocked on the door of the gamekeeper’s hut an hour 
later, they were surprised to see that all the curtains were closed. 
Hagrid called “Who is it?” before he let them in, and then shut the 
door quickly behind them. 
It was stifling hot inside. Even though it was such a warm day, 
there was a blazing fire in the grate. Hagrid made them tea and of-
fered them stoat sandwiches, which they refused. 
“So — yeh wanted to ask me somethin’?” 
“Yes,” said Harry. There was no point beating around the bush. 
“We were wondering if you could tell us what’s guarding the 
Sorcerer’s Stone apart from Fluffy.” 
Hagrid frowned at him. 
“O’ course I can’t,” he said. “Number one, I don’ know meself. 
Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn’ tell yeh if I 
could. That Stone’s here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen 
outta Gringotts — I s’ppose yeh’ve worked that out an’ all? Beats 
me how yeh even know abou’ Fluffy.” 
“Oh, come on, Hagrid, you might not want to tell us, but you 
do
know, you know everything that goes on round here,” said

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CHAPTER FOURTEEN 
‘
232 
‘
Hermione in a warm, flattering voice. Hagrid’s beard twitched 
and they could tell he was smiling. “We only wondered who had 
done 
the guarding, really.” Hermione went on. “We wondered who 
Dumbledore had trusted enough to help him, apart from you.” 
Hagrid’s chest swelled at these last words. Harry and Ron 
beamed at Hermione. 
“Well, I don’ s’pose it could hurt ter tell yeh that . . . let’s see . . . 
he borrowed Fluffy from me . . . then some o’ the teachers did 
enchantments . . . Professor Sprout — Professor Flitwick — Pro-
fessor McGonagall —” he ticked them off on his fingers, “Profes-
sor Quirrell — an’ Dumbledore himself did somethin’, o’ course. 
Hang on, I’ve forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape.” 
“