Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone Page #3

Also, our caretaker, Mr. Filch,|has asked me to remind you...

...that the third-floor corridor|is out of bounds...

...to everyone who does not wish|to die a most painful death.

Thank you.

When I call your name,|you will come forth.

I shall place the Sorting Hat|on your head...

...and you will be sorted|into your houses.

Hermione Granger.

Oh, no. Okay, relax.

Mental, that one, I'm telling you.

Right, then. Right.

Okay. Gryffindor!

Draco Malfoy.

Slytherin!

Every wizard who went bad|was in Slytherin.

Susan Bones.

Harry, what is it?

Nothing. Nothing, I'm fine.

Let's see...

I know! Hufflepuff!

Ronald Weasley.

Another Weasley!|I know just what to do with you.

Gryffindor!

Harry Potter.

Difficult, very difficult.

Plenty of courage, I see.|Not a bad mind, either.

There's talent, oh, yes.

And a thirst to prove yourself.

But where to put you?

Not Slytherin, not Slytherin!

Not Slytherin, eh? Are you sure?

You could be great, you know.|It's all here, in your head.

And Slytherin will help you on the way|to greatness, no doubt about that.

No? Well, if you're sure.

Better be...

...Gryffindor!

Your attention, please.

Let the feast begin.

I'm half and half.

Me dad's a Muggle. Mum's a witch.

Bit of a nasty shock for him|when he found out.

Percy, who's that teacher|talking to Professor Quirrell?

Professor Snape,|head of Slytherin house.

- What's he teach?|- Potions.

But he fancies the Dark Arts.|He's been after Quirrell's job for years.

Hello! How are you?

Welcome to Gryffindor.

It's the Bloody Baron!

Hello, Sir Nicholas.|Have a nice summer?

Dismal. Once again, my request to join|the Headless Hunt has been denied.

I know you.|You're Nearly Headless Nick.

I prefer Sir Nicholas,|if you don't mind.

"Nearly" headless?|How can you be nearly headless?

Like this.

Gryffindors, follow me, please.|Keep up. Thank you.

Ravenclaw, follow me. This way.

This is the most direct path|to the dormitories.

Keep an eye on the staircases.|They like to change.

Keep up, please, and follow me.|Quickly now, come on. Come on.

That picture's moving.

- Look at that one.|- I think she fancies you.

- Look!|- Who's that girl?

Welcome to Hogwarts.

Password?

Caput Draconis.

Follow me, everyone. Keep up.|Quickly, come on.

Gather around here.

Welcome to the Gryffindor common room.

Boys' dormitory is upstairs to the left.|Girls, the same on your right.

Your belongings have|already been brought up.

Made it!

Can you imagine the look on old|McGonagall's face if we were late?

- That was bloody brilliant!|- Thank you for that assessment.

It'd be better if I transfigured|Mr. Potter and you into a watch.

- Then one of you might be on time.|- We got lost.

Then perhaps a map? I trust you|don't need one to find your seats.

There will be no foolish wand-waving|or silly incantations in this class.

As such, I don't expect|many of you to appreciate...

...the subtle science and exact art|that is potion-making.

However, for those select few...

...who possess the predisposition...

...I can teach you|how to bewitch the mind...

...and ensnare the senses.

I can tell you how to bottle fame...

...brew glory and even|put a stopper in death.

Then again, maybe some of you have|come to Hogwarts with abilities...

...so formidable that|you feel confident enough...

...to not pay attention.

Mr. Potter.

Our new celebrity.

What would I get if I added root|of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?

You don't know? Let's try again.

Where would you look|if I asked you to find a bezoar?

I don't know, sir.

What is the difference|between monkshood and wolfsbane?

I don't know, sir.

Pity.

Clearly, fame isn't everything...

...is it, Mr. Potter?

Turn this water into rum

Eye of rabbit...

What's Seamus trying to do|to the water?

Turn it to rum. Actually managed|a weak tea yesterday, before...

Mail's here.

Can I borrow this? Thanks.

Look, Neville's got a Remembrall.

I've read about those. The smoke turns|red when you've forgotten something.

The problem is, I can't remember|what I've forgotten.

Somebody broke into Gringotts. Listen.

"Believed to be the work|of Dark wizards or witches...

...Gringotts goblins acknowledge|the breach but insist nothing was taken."

"The vault in question, number 713,|had been emptied earlier that same day."

That's odd. That's the vault|Hagrid and I went to.

- Good afternoon, class.|- Good afternoon, Madam Hooch.

Good afternoon, Amanda.|Good afternoon.

Welcome to your first flying lesson.

What are you waiting for?|Step up to your broomstick.

Come on now, hurry up. Stick your hand|over the broom and say, "Up".

Up!

Up.

Up.

Up. Up!

With feeling.

Shut up, Harry.

Now, once you've got hold of|your broom, I want you to mount it.

Grip it tight. You don't wanna be|sliding off the end.

When I blow my whistle, I want you|to kick off from the ground, hard.

Keep your broom steady,|hover for a moment...

...then lean forward slightly|and touch back down.

On my whistle. Three, two...

Mr. Longbottom.

- Mr. Longbottom!|- Down, down!

Neville!

Come back down this instant!

Everyone out of the way!

Is he all right?

Oh, dear, it's a broken wrist.|Poor boy. Come on now, up you get.

Keep your feet on the ground|while I take him to the hospital wing.

Understand? If I see|a single broom in the air...

...the one riding it will be expelled|before they can say Quidditch.

Did you see his face?

If he had squeezed this, he'd have|remembered to fall on his arse.

Give it here, Malfoy.

No. I'll leave it somewhere|for Longbottom to find.

How about on the roof?

What's the matter, Potter?|Bit beyond your reach?

Harry, no way!|You heard what Madam Hooch said.

Besides, you don't know how to fly.

What an idiot.

Give it here or I'll|knock you off your broom!

Is that so?

Have it your way, then.

- Nice going, Harry.|- That was wicked, Harry!

Harry Potter!

Follow me.

You wait here.

Professor Quirrell, excuse me.|Could I borrow Wood for a moment?

Yes, of course.

Potter, this is Oliver Wood.|Wood, I have found you a Seeker.

Have you heard? Harry Potter's|the new Gryffindor Seeker.

I always knew he'd do well.

Seeker? But first years|never make the house teams.

- You must be the youngest player in...|- A century, McGonagall says.

Well done, Harry.|Wood's just told us.

Fred and George are on the team.|Beaters.

Our job is to make sure you|don't get bloodied up too bad.

Can't make any promises.|Rough game, Quidditch.

But no one's died in years.|Someone vanishes occasionally.

But they'll turn up in a month or two.

Go on. Quidditch is great. Best game|there is, and you'll be great too.

I've never played.|What if I make a fool of myself?

You won't make a fool of yourself.|It's in your blood.

You never told me your father|was a Seeker too.

I didn't know.

I'm telling you, it's spooky.|She knows more about you than you do.

Who doesn't?

What's happening?

The staircases change, remember?

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