text stringlengths 905 9.37k | test_text stringlengths 888 9.36k | speaker stringclasses 76
values | llama_text stringlengths 927 9.4k | llama_test_text stringlengths 900 9.37k | qwen_text stringlengths 895 9.36k | qwen_test_text stringlengths 883 9.35k |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
<bos><|context|>“I know some things,” he said. “I can, you know, do maths 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” . Hagr id stared wildly at Harry. “But yeh must know about yer mum and dad,” he said. “I mean, they’re famous. You’re famous.” “What? My – my mum 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.<|quote|>“Yeh don’ know what yeh are?”</|quote|>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 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.”<|speaker|>Hagrid<eos> | <bos><|context|>“I know some things,” he said. “I can, you know, do maths 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” . Hagr id stared wildly at Harry. “But yeh must know about yer mum and dad,” he said. “I mean, they’re famous. You’re famous.” “What? My – my mum 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.<|quote|>“Yeh don’ know what yeh are?”</|quote|>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 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.”<|speaker|> | Hagrid | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“I know some things,” he said. “I can, you know, do maths 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” . Hagr id stared wildly at Harry. “But yeh must know about yer mum and dad,” he said. “I mean, they’re famous. You’re famous.” “What? My – my mum 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.<|quote|>“Yeh don’ know what yeh are?”</|quote|>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 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.”<|speaker|>Hagrid<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“I know some things,” he said. “I can, you know, do maths 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” . Hagr id stared wildly at Harry. “But yeh must know about yer mum and dad,” he said. “I mean, they’re famous. You’re famous.” “What? My – my mum 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.<|quote|>“Yeh don’ know what yeh are?”</|quote|>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 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.”<|speaker|> | <|context|>“I know some things,” he said. “I can, you know, do maths 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” . Hagr id stared wildly at Harry. “But yeh must know about yer mum and dad,” he said. “I mean, they’re famous. You’re famous.” “What? My – my mum 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.<|quote|>“Yeh don’ know what yeh are?”</|quote|>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 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.”<|speaker|>Hagrid | <|context|>“I know some things,” he said. “I can, you know, do maths 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” . Hagr id stared wildly at Harry. “But yeh must know about yer mum and dad,” he said. “I mean, they’re famous. You’re famous.” “What? My – my mum 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.<|quote|>“Yeh don’ know what yeh are?”</|quote|>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 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.”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?” Ronan pawed the ground nervously. “I’m sure Firenze thought he was ac ting for the best,” he said, in his gloomy voice. Bane kicked his back legs in anger. “For the best! What is that to do with us? Centaurs are concerned with what has been foretold! It is not our business to run around like donkeys after stray humans in our Forest!”<|quote|>Firenze suddenly reared on to his hi nd legs in anger, so that Harry had to grab his shoulders to stay on.</|quote|>“Do you not see that unicorn?” Firenze bellowed at Bane. “Do you not understand why it was killed? Or have the planets not let you in on that secret? I set myself against what is lurking in this Forest, Bane, yes, with humans alongside me if I must.” And Firenze whisked around; with Harry clutching on as best he could, they plunged off into the tr ees, leaving Ronan and Bane behind them. Harry didn’t have a clue what was going on. “Why’s Bane so angry?” he asked. “What was that thing you saved me from, anyway?” Firenze slowed to a walk, warned Harry to keep his head bowed in case of low-hanging branches but did not answer Harry’s question. They made their way through the trees in silence for so long that Harry thought Firenze didn’t want to talk to him any more. They were passing through a particularly dens e patch of trees, however, when Firenze suddenly stopped.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>“Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?” Ronan pawed the ground nervously. “I’m sure Firenze thought he was ac ting for the best,” he said, in his gloomy voice. Bane kicked his back legs in anger. “For the best! What is that to do with us? Centaurs are concerned with what has been foretold! It is not our business to run around like donkeys after stray humans in our Forest!”<|quote|>Firenze suddenly reared on to his hi nd legs in anger, so that Harry had to grab his shoulders to stay on.</|quote|>“Do you not see that unicorn?” Firenze bellowed at Bane. “Do you not understand why it was killed? Or have the planets not let you in on that secret? I set myself against what is lurking in this Forest, Bane, yes, with humans alongside me if I must.” And Firenze whisked around; with Harry clutching on as best he could, they plunged off into the tr ees, leaving Ronan and Bane behind them. Harry didn’t have a clue what was going on. “Why’s Bane so angry?” he asked. “What was that thing you saved me from, anyway?” Firenze slowed to a walk, warned Harry to keep his head bowed in case of low-hanging branches but did not answer Harry’s question. They made their way through the trees in silence for so long that Harry thought Firenze didn’t want to talk to him any more. They were passing through a particularly dens e patch of trees, however, when Firenze suddenly stopped.<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?” Ronan pawed the ground nervously. “I’m sure Firenze thought he was ac ting for the best,” he said, in his gloomy voice. Bane kicked his back legs in anger. “For the best! What is that to do with us? Centaurs are concerned with what has been foretold! It is not our business to run around like donkeys after stray humans in our Forest!”<|quote|>Firenze suddenly reared on to his hi nd legs in anger, so that Harry had to grab his shoulders to stay on.</|quote|>“Do you not see that unicorn?” Firenze bellowed at Bane. “Do you not understand why it was killed? Or have the planets not let you in on that secret? I set myself against what is lurking in this Forest, Bane, yes, with humans alongside me if I must.” And Firenze whisked around; with Harry clutching on as best he could, they plunged off into the tr ees, leaving Ronan and Bane behind them. Harry didn’t have a clue what was going on. “Why’s Bane so angry?” he asked. “What was that thing you saved me from, anyway?” Firenze slowed to a walk, warned Harry to keep his head bowed in case of low-hanging branches but did not answer Harry’s question. They made their way through the trees in silence for so long that Harry thought Firenze didn’t want to talk to him any more. They were passing through a particularly dens e patch of trees, however, when Firenze suddenly stopped.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?” Ronan pawed the ground nervously. “I’m sure Firenze thought he was ac ting for the best,” he said, in his gloomy voice. Bane kicked his back legs in anger. “For the best! What is that to do with us? Centaurs are concerned with what has been foretold! It is not our business to run around like donkeys after stray humans in our Forest!”<|quote|>Firenze suddenly reared on to his hi nd legs in anger, so that Harry had to grab his shoulders to stay on.</|quote|>“Do you not see that unicorn?” Firenze bellowed at Bane. “Do you not understand why it was killed? Or have the planets not let you in on that secret? I set myself against what is lurking in this Forest, Bane, yes, with humans alongside me if I must.” And Firenze whisked around; with Harry clutching on as best he could, they plunged off into the tr ees, leaving Ronan and Bane behind them. Harry didn’t have a clue what was going on. “Why’s Bane so angry?” he asked. “What was that thing you saved me from, anyway?” Firenze slowed to a walk, warned Harry to keep his head bowed in case of low-hanging branches but did not answer Harry’s question. They made their way through the trees in silence for so long that Harry thought Firenze didn’t want to talk to him any more. They were passing through a particularly dens e patch of trees, however, when Firenze suddenly stopped.<|speaker|> | <|context|>“Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?” Ronan pawed the ground nervously. “I’m sure Firenze thought he was ac ting for the best,” he said, in his gloomy voice. Bane kicked his back legs in anger. “For the best! What is that to do with us? Centaurs are concerned with what has been foretold! It is not our business to run around like donkeys after stray humans in our Forest!”<|quote|>Firenze suddenly reared on to his hi nd legs in anger, so that Harry had to grab his shoulders to stay on.</|quote|>“Do you not see that unicorn?” Firenze bellowed at Bane. “Do you not understand why it was killed? Or have the planets not let you in on that secret? I set myself against what is lurking in this Forest, Bane, yes, with humans alongside me if I must.” And Firenze whisked around; with Harry clutching on as best he could, they plunged off into the tr ees, leaving Ronan and Bane behind them. Harry didn’t have a clue what was going on. “Why’s Bane so angry?” he asked. “What was that thing you saved me from, anyway?” Firenze slowed to a walk, warned Harry to keep his head bowed in case of low-hanging branches but did not answer Harry’s question. They made their way through the trees in silence for so long that Harry thought Firenze didn’t want to talk to him any more. They were passing through a particularly dens e patch of trees, however, when Firenze suddenly stopped.<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>“Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?” Ronan pawed the ground nervously. “I’m sure Firenze thought he was ac ting for the best,” he said, in his gloomy voice. Bane kicked his back legs in anger. “For the best! What is that to do with us? Centaurs are concerned with what has been foretold! It is not our business to run around like donkeys after stray humans in our Forest!”<|quote|>Firenze suddenly reared on to his hi nd legs in anger, so that Harry had to grab his shoulders to stay on.</|quote|>“Do you not see that unicorn?” Firenze bellowed at Bane. “Do you not understand why it was killed? Or have the planets not let you in on that secret? I set myself against what is lurking in this Forest, Bane, yes, with humans alongside me if I must.” And Firenze whisked around; with Harry clutching on as best he could, they plunged off into the tr ees, leaving Ronan and Bane behind them. Harry didn’t have a clue what was going on. “Why’s Bane so angry?” he asked. “What was that thing you saved me from, anyway?” Firenze slowed to a walk, warned Harry to keep his head bowed in case of low-hanging branches but did not answer Harry’s question. They made their way through the trees in silence for so long that Harry thought Firenze didn’t want to talk to him any more. They were passing through a particularly dens e patch of trees, however, when Firenze suddenly stopped.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>Hermione said to Harry. “You realise that, don’t you? He was never going to meet you – Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off.” Harry thought she was probably righ t, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. “Let’s go.” It wasn’t going to be that simple. They hadn’t gone more than a dozen paces when a doorknob rattl ed and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of them. It was Peeves. He caught sight of them and gave a squeal of delight.<|quote|>“Shut up, Peeves – please – you’ll get us thrown out.”</|quote|>Peeves cackled. “Wandering around at midnight, ickle firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you’ll get caughty.” “Not if you don’t give us away, Peeves, please.” “Should tell Filch, I should,” said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. “It’s for your own good, you know.” “Get out of the way,” snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves – this was a big mistake. “STUDENTS OUT OF BED!” Peeves bellowed. “STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!” Ducking under Peeves they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor, where they slammed into a door – and it was locked.<|speaker|>Harry Potter<eos> | <bos><|context|>Hermione said to Harry. “You realise that, don’t you? He was never going to meet you – Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off.” Harry thought she was probably righ t, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. “Let’s go.” It wasn’t going to be that simple. They hadn’t gone more than a dozen paces when a doorknob rattl ed and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of them. It was Peeves. He caught sight of them and gave a squeal of delight.<|quote|>“Shut up, Peeves – please – you’ll get us thrown out.”</|quote|>Peeves cackled. “Wandering around at midnight, ickle firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you’ll get caughty.” “Not if you don’t give us away, Peeves, please.” “Should tell Filch, I should,” said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. “It’s for your own good, you know.” “Get out of the way,” snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves – this was a big mistake. “STUDENTS OUT OF BED!” Peeves bellowed. “STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!” Ducking under Peeves they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor, where they slammed into a door – and it was locked.<|speaker|> | Harry Potter | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Hermione said to Harry. “You realise that, don’t you? He was never going to meet you – Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off.” Harry thought she was probably righ t, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. “Let’s go.” It wasn’t going to be that simple. They hadn’t gone more than a dozen paces when a doorknob rattl ed and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of them. It was Peeves. He caught sight of them and gave a squeal of delight.<|quote|>“Shut up, Peeves – please – you’ll get us thrown out.”</|quote|>Peeves cackled. “Wandering around at midnight, ickle firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you’ll get caughty.” “Not if you don’t give us away, Peeves, please.” “Should tell Filch, I should,” said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. “It’s for your own good, you know.” “Get out of the way,” snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves – this was a big mistake. “STUDENTS OUT OF BED!” Peeves bellowed. “STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!” Ducking under Peeves they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor, where they slammed into a door – and it was locked.<|speaker|>Harry Potter<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Hermione said to Harry. “You realise that, don’t you? He was never going to meet you – Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off.” Harry thought she was probably righ t, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. “Let’s go.” It wasn’t going to be that simple. They hadn’t gone more than a dozen paces when a doorknob rattl ed and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of them. It was Peeves. He caught sight of them and gave a squeal of delight.<|quote|>“Shut up, Peeves – please – you’ll get us thrown out.”</|quote|>Peeves cackled. “Wandering around at midnight, ickle firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you’ll get caughty.” “Not if you don’t give us away, Peeves, please.” “Should tell Filch, I should,” said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. “It’s for your own good, you know.” “Get out of the way,” snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves – this was a big mistake. “STUDENTS OUT OF BED!” Peeves bellowed. “STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!” Ducking under Peeves they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor, where they slammed into a door – and it was locked.<|speaker|> | <|context|>Hermione said to Harry. “You realise that, don’t you? He was never going to meet you – Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off.” Harry thought she was probably righ t, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. “Let’s go.” It wasn’t going to be that simple. They hadn’t gone more than a dozen paces when a doorknob rattl ed and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of them. It was Peeves. He caught sight of them and gave a squeal of delight.<|quote|>“Shut up, Peeves – please – you’ll get us thrown out.”</|quote|>Peeves cackled. “Wandering around at midnight, ickle firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you’ll get caughty.” “Not if you don’t give us away, Peeves, please.” “Should tell Filch, I should,” said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. “It’s for your own good, you know.” “Get out of the way,” snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves – this was a big mistake. “STUDENTS OUT OF BED!” Peeves bellowed. “STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!” Ducking under Peeves they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor, where they slammed into a door – and it was locked.<|speaker|>Harry Potter | <|context|>Hermione said to Harry. “You realise that, don’t you? He was never going to meet you – Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off.” Harry thought she was probably righ t, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. “Let’s go.” It wasn’t going to be that simple. They hadn’t gone more than a dozen paces when a doorknob rattl ed and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of them. It was Peeves. He caught sight of them and gave a squeal of delight.<|quote|>“Shut up, Peeves – please – you’ll get us thrown out.”</|quote|>Peeves cackled. “Wandering around at midnight, ickle firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you’ll get caughty.” “Not if you don’t give us away, Peeves, please.” “Should tell Filch, I should,” said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. “It’s for your own good, you know.” “Get out of the way,” snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves – this was a big mistake. “STUDENTS OUT OF BED!” Peeves bellowed. “STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!” Ducking under Peeves they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor, where they slammed into a door – and it was locked.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg. Harry pressed on through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the trai n. He put Hedwig inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk towards the train door. He tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice he dropped it painfully on his foot. “Want a hand?” It was one of the red-haired twins he’d followed through the ticket box. “Yes, please,” Harry panted. “Oy, Fred! C’mere and help!” With the twins’ help, Harry’s trunk was at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment. “Thanks,” said Harry, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes. “What’s that?” said one of the tw ins suddenly, pointing at Harry’s lightning scar.<|quote|>“Blimey,”</|quote|>said the other twin. “Are you –?” “He is,” said the first twin. “Aren’t you?” he added to Harry. “What?” said Harry. “Harry Potter ,” chorused the twins. “Oh, him,” said Harry. “I mean, yes, I am.” The two boys gawped at him and Harry felt himself going red. Then, to his relief, a voice came fl oating in through the train’s open door. “Fred? George? Are you there?” “Coming, Mum.” With a last look at Harry, the twins hopped off the train. Harry sat down next to the window where, half-hidden, he could watch the red-haired family on the platform and hear what they were saying. Their mother had just taken out her handkerchief.<|speaker|>Fred Weasley<eos> | <bos><|context|>The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg. Harry pressed on through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the trai n. He put Hedwig inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk towards the train door. He tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice he dropped it painfully on his foot. “Want a hand?” It was one of the red-haired twins he’d followed through the ticket box. “Yes, please,” Harry panted. “Oy, Fred! C’mere and help!” With the twins’ help, Harry’s trunk was at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment. “Thanks,” said Harry, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes. “What’s that?” said one of the tw ins suddenly, pointing at Harry’s lightning scar.<|quote|>“Blimey,”</|quote|>said the other twin. “Are you –?” “He is,” said the first twin. “Aren’t you?” he added to Harry. “What?” said Harry. “Harry Potter ,” chorused the twins. “Oh, him,” said Harry. “I mean, yes, I am.” The two boys gawped at him and Harry felt himself going red. Then, to his relief, a voice came fl oating in through the train’s open door. “Fred? George? Are you there?” “Coming, Mum.” With a last look at Harry, the twins hopped off the train. Harry sat down next to the window where, half-hidden, he could watch the red-haired family on the platform and hear what they were saying. Their mother had just taken out her handkerchief.<|speaker|> | Fred Weasley | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg. Harry pressed on through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the trai n. He put Hedwig inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk towards the train door. He tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice he dropped it painfully on his foot. “Want a hand?” It was one of the red-haired twins he’d followed through the ticket box. “Yes, please,” Harry panted. “Oy, Fred! C’mere and help!” With the twins’ help, Harry’s trunk was at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment. “Thanks,” said Harry, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes. “What’s that?” said one of the tw ins suddenly, pointing at Harry’s lightning scar.<|quote|>“Blimey,”</|quote|>said the other twin. “Are you –?” “He is,” said the first twin. “Aren’t you?” he added to Harry. “What?” said Harry. “Harry Potter ,” chorused the twins. “Oh, him,” said Harry. “I mean, yes, I am.” The two boys gawped at him and Harry felt himself going red. Then, to his relief, a voice came fl oating in through the train’s open door. “Fred? George? Are you there?” “Coming, Mum.” With a last look at Harry, the twins hopped off the train. Harry sat down next to the window where, half-hidden, he could watch the red-haired family on the platform and hear what they were saying. Their mother had just taken out her handkerchief.<|speaker|>Fred Weasley<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg. Harry pressed on through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the trai n. He put Hedwig inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk towards the train door. He tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice he dropped it painfully on his foot. “Want a hand?” It was one of the red-haired twins he’d followed through the ticket box. “Yes, please,” Harry panted. “Oy, Fred! C’mere and help!” With the twins’ help, Harry’s trunk was at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment. “Thanks,” said Harry, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes. “What’s that?” said one of the tw ins suddenly, pointing at Harry’s lightning scar.<|quote|>“Blimey,”</|quote|>said the other twin. “Are you –?” “He is,” said the first twin. “Aren’t you?” he added to Harry. “What?” said Harry. “Harry Potter ,” chorused the twins. “Oh, him,” said Harry. “I mean, yes, I am.” The two boys gawped at him and Harry felt himself going red. Then, to his relief, a voice came fl oating in through the train’s open door. “Fred? George? Are you there?” “Coming, Mum.” With a last look at Harry, the twins hopped off the train. Harry sat down next to the window where, half-hidden, he could watch the red-haired family on the platform and hear what they were saying. Their mother had just taken out her handkerchief.<|speaker|> | <|context|>The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg. Harry pressed on through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the trai n. He put Hedwig inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk towards the train door. He tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice he dropped it painfully on his foot. “Want a hand?” It was one of the red-haired twins he’d followed through the ticket box. “Yes, please,” Harry panted. “Oy, Fred! C’mere and help!” With the twins’ help, Harry’s trunk was at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment. “Thanks,” said Harry, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes. “What’s that?” said one of the tw ins suddenly, pointing at Harry’s lightning scar.<|quote|>“Blimey,”</|quote|>said the other twin. “Are you –?” “He is,” said the first twin. “Aren’t you?” he added to Harry. “What?” said Harry. “Harry Potter ,” chorused the twins. “Oh, him,” said Harry. “I mean, yes, I am.” The two boys gawped at him and Harry felt himself going red. Then, to his relief, a voice came fl oating in through the train’s open door. “Fred? George? Are you there?” “Coming, Mum.” With a last look at Harry, the twins hopped off the train. Harry sat down next to the window where, half-hidden, he could watch the red-haired family on the platform and hear what they were saying. Their mother had just taken out her handkerchief.<|speaker|>Fred Weasley | <|context|>The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg. Harry pressed on through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the trai n. He put Hedwig inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk towards the train door. He tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice he dropped it painfully on his foot. “Want a hand?” It was one of the red-haired twins he’d followed through the ticket box. “Yes, please,” Harry panted. “Oy, Fred! C’mere and help!” With the twins’ help, Harry’s trunk was at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment. “Thanks,” said Harry, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes. “What’s that?” said one of the tw ins suddenly, pointing at Harry’s lightning scar.<|quote|>“Blimey,”</|quote|>said the other twin. “Are you –?” “He is,” said the first twin. “Aren’t you?” he added to Harry. “What?” said Harry. “Harry Potter ,” chorused the twins. “Oh, him,” said Harry. “I mean, yes, I am.” The two boys gawped at him and Harry felt himself going red. Then, to his relief, a voice came fl oating in through the train’s open door. “Fred? George? Are you there?” “Coming, Mum.” With a last look at Harry, the twins hopped off the train. Harry sat down next to the window where, half-hidden, he could watch the red-haired family on the platform and hear what they were saying. Their mother had just taken out her handkerchief.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>* After dinner the three of them sat nervously apart in the common room. Nobody bothered them; none of the Gryffindors had anything to say to Harry any more, after all. This was the first night he hadn’t been upset by it. Hermione was skimming through all her notes, hoping to come across one of the en chantments they were about to try and break. Harry and Ron didn’t talk much. Both of them were thinking about what they were about to do. Slowly, the room emptied as people drifted off to bed. “Better get the Cloak,” Ron muttered, as Lee Jordan finally left, stretching and yawning. Harry ran upst airs to their dark dormitory. He pulled out the Cloak and then his eyes fell on the flute Hagrid had given him for Christmas. He pocketed it to use on Fluffy – he didn’t feel much like singing. He ran back down to the common room. “We’d better put the Cloak on here, and make sure it covers all three of us – if Filch spots one of our feet wandering along on its own–” “What are you doing?”<|quote|>said a voice from the corner of the room. Neville appeared from behind an armchair, clutching Trevor the toad, who looked as though he’d been making another bid for freedom.</|quote|>“Nothing, Neville, nothing,” said Harry, hurriedly putting the Cloak behind his back. Neville stared at their guilty faces. “You’re going out again,” he said. “No, no, no,” said Hermione. “No, we’re not. Why don’t you go to bed, Neville?” Harry looked at the grandfather cl ock by the door. They couldn’t afford to waste any more time, Snape might even now be playing Fluffy to sleep. “You can’t go out,” said Neville, “you’ll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble.” “You don’t understand,”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>* After dinner the three of them sat nervously apart in the common room. Nobody bothered them; none of the Gryffindors had anything to say to Harry any more, after all. This was the first night he hadn’t been upset by it. Hermione was skimming through all her notes, hoping to come across one of the en chantments they were about to try and break. Harry and Ron didn’t talk much. Both of them were thinking about what they were about to do. Slowly, the room emptied as people drifted off to bed. “Better get the Cloak,” Ron muttered, as Lee Jordan finally left, stretching and yawning. Harry ran upst airs to their dark dormitory. He pulled out the Cloak and then his eyes fell on the flute Hagrid had given him for Christmas. He pocketed it to use on Fluffy – he didn’t feel much like singing. He ran back down to the common room. “We’d better put the Cloak on here, and make sure it covers all three of us – if Filch spots one of our feet wandering along on its own–” “What are you doing?”<|quote|>said a voice from the corner of the room. Neville appeared from behind an armchair, clutching Trevor the toad, who looked as though he’d been making another bid for freedom.</|quote|>“Nothing, Neville, nothing,” said Harry, hurriedly putting the Cloak behind his back. Neville stared at their guilty faces. “You’re going out again,” he said. “No, no, no,” said Hermione. “No, we’re not. Why don’t you go to bed, Neville?” Harry looked at the grandfather cl ock by the door. They couldn’t afford to waste any more time, Snape might even now be playing Fluffy to sleep. “You can’t go out,” said Neville, “you’ll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble.” “You don’t understand,”<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>* After dinner the three of them sat nervously apart in the common room. Nobody bothered them; none of the Gryffindors had anything to say to Harry any more, after all. This was the first night he hadn’t been upset by it. Hermione was skimming through all her notes, hoping to come across one of the en chantments they were about to try and break. Harry and Ron didn’t talk much. Both of them were thinking about what they were about to do. Slowly, the room emptied as people drifted off to bed. “Better get the Cloak,” Ron muttered, as Lee Jordan finally left, stretching and yawning. Harry ran upst airs to their dark dormitory. He pulled out the Cloak and then his eyes fell on the flute Hagrid had given him for Christmas. He pocketed it to use on Fluffy – he didn’t feel much like singing. He ran back down to the common room. “We’d better put the Cloak on here, and make sure it covers all three of us – if Filch spots one of our feet wandering along on its own–” “What are you doing?”<|quote|>said a voice from the corner of the room. Neville appeared from behind an armchair, clutching Trevor the toad, who looked as though he’d been making another bid for freedom.</|quote|>“Nothing, Neville, nothing,” said Harry, hurriedly putting the Cloak behind his back. Neville stared at their guilty faces. “You’re going out again,” he said. “No, no, no,” said Hermione. “No, we’re not. Why don’t you go to bed, Neville?” Harry looked at the grandfather cl ock by the door. They couldn’t afford to waste any more time, Snape might even now be playing Fluffy to sleep. “You can’t go out,” said Neville, “you’ll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble.” “You don’t understand,”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>* After dinner the three of them sat nervously apart in the common room. Nobody bothered them; none of the Gryffindors had anything to say to Harry any more, after all. This was the first night he hadn’t been upset by it. Hermione was skimming through all her notes, hoping to come across one of the en chantments they were about to try and break. Harry and Ron didn’t talk much. Both of them were thinking about what they were about to do. Slowly, the room emptied as people drifted off to bed. “Better get the Cloak,” Ron muttered, as Lee Jordan finally left, stretching and yawning. Harry ran upst airs to their dark dormitory. He pulled out the Cloak and then his eyes fell on the flute Hagrid had given him for Christmas. He pocketed it to use on Fluffy – he didn’t feel much like singing. He ran back down to the common room. “We’d better put the Cloak on here, and make sure it covers all three of us – if Filch spots one of our feet wandering along on its own–” “What are you doing?”<|quote|>said a voice from the corner of the room. Neville appeared from behind an armchair, clutching Trevor the toad, who looked as though he’d been making another bid for freedom.</|quote|>“Nothing, Neville, nothing,” said Harry, hurriedly putting the Cloak behind his back. Neville stared at their guilty faces. “You’re going out again,” he said. “No, no, no,” said Hermione. “No, we’re not. Why don’t you go to bed, Neville?” Harry looked at the grandfather cl ock by the door. They couldn’t afford to waste any more time, Snape might even now be playing Fluffy to sleep. “You can’t go out,” said Neville, “you’ll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble.” “You don’t understand,”<|speaker|> | <|context|>* After dinner the three of them sat nervously apart in the common room. Nobody bothered them; none of the Gryffindors had anything to say to Harry any more, after all. This was the first night he hadn’t been upset by it. Hermione was skimming through all her notes, hoping to come across one of the en chantments they were about to try and break. Harry and Ron didn’t talk much. Both of them were thinking about what they were about to do. Slowly, the room emptied as people drifted off to bed. “Better get the Cloak,” Ron muttered, as Lee Jordan finally left, stretching and yawning. Harry ran upst airs to their dark dormitory. He pulled out the Cloak and then his eyes fell on the flute Hagrid had given him for Christmas. He pocketed it to use on Fluffy – he didn’t feel much like singing. He ran back down to the common room. “We’d better put the Cloak on here, and make sure it covers all three of us – if Filch spots one of our feet wandering along on its own–” “What are you doing?”<|quote|>said a voice from the corner of the room. Neville appeared from behind an armchair, clutching Trevor the toad, who looked as though he’d been making another bid for freedom.</|quote|>“Nothing, Neville, nothing,” said Harry, hurriedly putting the Cloak behind his back. Neville stared at their guilty faces. “You’re going out again,” he said. “No, no, no,” said Hermione. “No, we’re not. Why don’t you go to bed, Neville?” Harry looked at the grandfather cl ock by the door. They couldn’t afford to waste any more time, Snape might even now be playing Fluffy to sleep. “You can’t go out,” said Neville, “you’ll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble.” “You don’t understand,”<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>* After dinner the three of them sat nervously apart in the common room. Nobody bothered them; none of the Gryffindors had anything to say to Harry any more, after all. This was the first night he hadn’t been upset by it. Hermione was skimming through all her notes, hoping to come across one of the en chantments they were about to try and break. Harry and Ron didn’t talk much. Both of them were thinking about what they were about to do. Slowly, the room emptied as people drifted off to bed. “Better get the Cloak,” Ron muttered, as Lee Jordan finally left, stretching and yawning. Harry ran upst airs to their dark dormitory. He pulled out the Cloak and then his eyes fell on the flute Hagrid had given him for Christmas. He pocketed it to use on Fluffy – he didn’t feel much like singing. He ran back down to the common room. “We’d better put the Cloak on here, and make sure it covers all three of us – if Filch spots one of our feet wandering along on its own–” “What are you doing?”<|quote|>said a voice from the corner of the room. Neville appeared from behind an armchair, clutching Trevor the toad, who looked as though he’d been making another bid for freedom.</|quote|>“Nothing, Neville, nothing,” said Harry, hurriedly putting the Cloak behind his back. Neville stared at their guilty faces. “You’re going out again,” he said. “No, no, no,” said Hermione. “No, we’re not. Why don’t you go to bed, Neville?” Harry looked at the grandfather cl ock by the door. They couldn’t afford to waste any more time, Snape might even now be playing Fluffy to sleep. “You can’t go out,” said Neville, “you’ll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble.” “You don’t understand,”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“… and leave him in the car …” “That car’s new, he’s not sitting in it alone …” Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn’t really crying, it had been years since he’d really cried, but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted. “Dinky Duddydums, don’t cry, Mu mmy won’t let him spoil your special day!” she cried, flinging her arms around him. “I … don’t … want … him … t-t-to come!” Dudley yelled between huge pretend sobs. “He always sp-spoils everything!” He shot Harry a nasty grin through the gap in his mother’s arms. Just then, the doorbell rang –<|quote|>“Oh, Good Lord, they’re here!”</|quote|>said Aunt Petunia frantically – and a moment later, Dudley’s best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother. Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held people’s arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them. Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once. Half an hour later, Harry, who couldn’t believe his luck, was sitting in the back of the Dursleys’ car wi th Piers and Dudley, on the way to the zoo for the first time in his life. His aunt and uncle hadn’t been able to think of anything else to do with him, but before they’d left, Uncle Vernon had taken Harry aside.<|speaker|>Aunt Petunia<eos> | <bos><|context|>“… and leave him in the car …” “That car’s new, he’s not sitting in it alone …” Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn’t really crying, it had been years since he’d really cried, but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted. “Dinky Duddydums, don’t cry, Mu mmy won’t let him spoil your special day!” she cried, flinging her arms around him. “I … don’t … want … him … t-t-to come!” Dudley yelled between huge pretend sobs. “He always sp-spoils everything!” He shot Harry a nasty grin through the gap in his mother’s arms. Just then, the doorbell rang –<|quote|>“Oh, Good Lord, they’re here!”</|quote|>said Aunt Petunia frantically – and a moment later, Dudley’s best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother. Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held people’s arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them. Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once. Half an hour later, Harry, who couldn’t believe his luck, was sitting in the back of the Dursleys’ car wi th Piers and Dudley, on the way to the zoo for the first time in his life. His aunt and uncle hadn’t been able to think of anything else to do with him, but before they’d left, Uncle Vernon had taken Harry aside.<|speaker|> | Aunt Petunia | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“… and leave him in the car …” “That car’s new, he’s not sitting in it alone …” Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn’t really crying, it had been years since he’d really cried, but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted. “Dinky Duddydums, don’t cry, Mu mmy won’t let him spoil your special day!” she cried, flinging her arms around him. “I … don’t … want … him … t-t-to come!” Dudley yelled between huge pretend sobs. “He always sp-spoils everything!” He shot Harry a nasty grin through the gap in his mother’s arms. Just then, the doorbell rang –<|quote|>“Oh, Good Lord, they’re here!”</|quote|>said Aunt Petunia frantically – and a moment later, Dudley’s best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother. Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held people’s arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them. Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once. Half an hour later, Harry, who couldn’t believe his luck, was sitting in the back of the Dursleys’ car wi th Piers and Dudley, on the way to the zoo for the first time in his life. His aunt and uncle hadn’t been able to think of anything else to do with him, but before they’d left, Uncle Vernon had taken Harry aside.<|speaker|>Aunt Petunia<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“… and leave him in the car …” “That car’s new, he’s not sitting in it alone …” Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn’t really crying, it had been years since he’d really cried, but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted. “Dinky Duddydums, don’t cry, Mu mmy won’t let him spoil your special day!” she cried, flinging her arms around him. “I … don’t … want … him … t-t-to come!” Dudley yelled between huge pretend sobs. “He always sp-spoils everything!” He shot Harry a nasty grin through the gap in his mother’s arms. Just then, the doorbell rang –<|quote|>“Oh, Good Lord, they’re here!”</|quote|>said Aunt Petunia frantically – and a moment later, Dudley’s best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother. Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held people’s arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them. Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once. Half an hour later, Harry, who couldn’t believe his luck, was sitting in the back of the Dursleys’ car wi th Piers and Dudley, on the way to the zoo for the first time in his life. His aunt and uncle hadn’t been able to think of anything else to do with him, but before they’d left, Uncle Vernon had taken Harry aside.<|speaker|> | <|context|>“… and leave him in the car …” “That car’s new, he’s not sitting in it alone …” Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn’t really crying, it had been years since he’d really cried, but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted. “Dinky Duddydums, don’t cry, Mu mmy won’t let him spoil your special day!” she cried, flinging her arms around him. “I … don’t … want … him … t-t-to come!” Dudley yelled between huge pretend sobs. “He always sp-spoils everything!” He shot Harry a nasty grin through the gap in his mother’s arms. Just then, the doorbell rang –<|quote|>“Oh, Good Lord, they’re here!”</|quote|>said Aunt Petunia frantically – and a moment later, Dudley’s best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother. Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held people’s arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them. Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once. Half an hour later, Harry, who couldn’t believe his luck, was sitting in the back of the Dursleys’ car wi th Piers and Dudley, on the way to the zoo for the first time in his life. His aunt and uncle hadn’t been able to think of anything else to do with him, but before they’d left, Uncle Vernon had taken Harry aside.<|speaker|>Aunt Petunia | <|context|>“… and leave him in the car …” “That car’s new, he’s not sitting in it alone …” Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn’t really crying, it had been years since he’d really cried, but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted. “Dinky Duddydums, don’t cry, Mu mmy won’t let him spoil your special day!” she cried, flinging her arms around him. “I … don’t … want … him … t-t-to come!” Dudley yelled between huge pretend sobs. “He always sp-spoils everything!” He shot Harry a nasty grin through the gap in his mother’s arms. Just then, the doorbell rang –<|quote|>“Oh, Good Lord, they’re here!”</|quote|>said Aunt Petunia frantically – and a moment later, Dudley’s best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother. Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held people’s arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them. Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once. Half an hour later, Harry, who couldn’t believe his luck, was sitting in the back of the Dursleys’ car wi th Piers and Dudley, on the way to the zoo for the first time in his life. His aunt and uncle hadn’t been able to think of anything else to do with him, but before they’d left, Uncle Vernon had taken Harry aside.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“Don’t you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don’t want Slytherin to win the House Cup and you’ll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells.” “Go away.” “All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you’re on the train home tomorrow, you’re so –” But what they were, they didn’t fi nd out. Hermione had turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady to get back inside and found herself facing an empty painting. The Fat Lady had gone on a night-time visit and Hermione was locked out of Gryffindor Tower. “Now what am I going to do?” she asked shrilly. “That’s your problem,”<|quote|>said Ron.</|quote|>“We’ve got to go, we’re going to be late.” They hadn’t even reached the en d of the corridor when Hermione caught up with them. “I’m coming with you,” she said. “You are not.” “D’you think I’m going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all three of us I’ll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you and you can back me up.” “You’ve got some nerve –” said Ron loudly. “Shut up, both of you!” said Harry sharply. “I heard something.” It was a sort of snuffling. “Mrs Norris?” breathed Ron, squinting through the dark. It wasn’t Mrs Norris. It was Neville . He was curled up on the floor, fast asleep, but jerked suddenly awake as they crept nearer.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>“Don’t you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don’t want Slytherin to win the House Cup and you’ll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells.” “Go away.” “All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you’re on the train home tomorrow, you’re so –” But what they were, they didn’t fi nd out. Hermione had turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady to get back inside and found herself facing an empty painting. The Fat Lady had gone on a night-time visit and Hermione was locked out of Gryffindor Tower. “Now what am I going to do?” she asked shrilly. “That’s your problem,”<|quote|>said Ron.</|quote|>“We’ve got to go, we’re going to be late.” They hadn’t even reached the en d of the corridor when Hermione caught up with them. “I’m coming with you,” she said. “You are not.” “D’you think I’m going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all three of us I’ll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you and you can back me up.” “You’ve got some nerve –” said Ron loudly. “Shut up, both of you!” said Harry sharply. “I heard something.” It was a sort of snuffling. “Mrs Norris?” breathed Ron, squinting through the dark. It wasn’t Mrs Norris. It was Neville . He was curled up on the floor, fast asleep, but jerked suddenly awake as they crept nearer.<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Don’t you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don’t want Slytherin to win the House Cup and you’ll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells.” “Go away.” “All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you’re on the train home tomorrow, you’re so –” But what they were, they didn’t fi nd out. Hermione had turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady to get back inside and found herself facing an empty painting. The Fat Lady had gone on a night-time visit and Hermione was locked out of Gryffindor Tower. “Now what am I going to do?” she asked shrilly. “That’s your problem,”<|quote|>said Ron.</|quote|>“We’ve got to go, we’re going to be late.” They hadn’t even reached the en d of the corridor when Hermione caught up with them. “I’m coming with you,” she said. “You are not.” “D’you think I’m going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all three of us I’ll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you and you can back me up.” “You’ve got some nerve –” said Ron loudly. “Shut up, both of you!” said Harry sharply. “I heard something.” It was a sort of snuffling. “Mrs Norris?” breathed Ron, squinting through the dark. It wasn’t Mrs Norris. It was Neville . He was curled up on the floor, fast asleep, but jerked suddenly awake as they crept nearer.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Don’t you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don’t want Slytherin to win the House Cup and you’ll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells.” “Go away.” “All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you’re on the train home tomorrow, you’re so –” But what they were, they didn’t fi nd out. Hermione had turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady to get back inside and found herself facing an empty painting. The Fat Lady had gone on a night-time visit and Hermione was locked out of Gryffindor Tower. “Now what am I going to do?” she asked shrilly. “That’s your problem,”<|quote|>said Ron.</|quote|>“We’ve got to go, we’re going to be late.” They hadn’t even reached the en d of the corridor when Hermione caught up with them. “I’m coming with you,” she said. “You are not.” “D’you think I’m going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all three of us I’ll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you and you can back me up.” “You’ve got some nerve –” said Ron loudly. “Shut up, both of you!” said Harry sharply. “I heard something.” It was a sort of snuffling. “Mrs Norris?” breathed Ron, squinting through the dark. It wasn’t Mrs Norris. It was Neville . He was curled up on the floor, fast asleep, but jerked suddenly awake as they crept nearer.<|speaker|> | <|context|>“Don’t you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don’t want Slytherin to win the House Cup and you’ll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells.” “Go away.” “All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you’re on the train home tomorrow, you’re so –” But what they were, they didn’t fi nd out. Hermione had turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady to get back inside and found herself facing an empty painting. The Fat Lady had gone on a night-time visit and Hermione was locked out of Gryffindor Tower. “Now what am I going to do?” she asked shrilly. “That’s your problem,”<|quote|>said Ron.</|quote|>“We’ve got to go, we’re going to be late.” They hadn’t even reached the en d of the corridor when Hermione caught up with them. “I’m coming with you,” she said. “You are not.” “D’you think I’m going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all three of us I’ll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you and you can back me up.” “You’ve got some nerve –” said Ron loudly. “Shut up, both of you!” said Harry sharply. “I heard something.” It was a sort of snuffling. “Mrs Norris?” breathed Ron, squinting through the dark. It wasn’t Mrs Norris. It was Neville . He was curled up on the floor, fast asleep, but jerked suddenly awake as they crept nearer.<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>“Don’t you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don’t want Slytherin to win the House Cup and you’ll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells.” “Go away.” “All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you’re on the train home tomorrow, you’re so –” But what they were, they didn’t fi nd out. Hermione had turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady to get back inside and found herself facing an empty painting. The Fat Lady had gone on a night-time visit and Hermione was locked out of Gryffindor Tower. “Now what am I going to do?” she asked shrilly. “That’s your problem,”<|quote|>said Ron.</|quote|>“We’ve got to go, we’re going to be late.” They hadn’t even reached the en d of the corridor when Hermione caught up with them. “I’m coming with you,” she said. “You are not.” “D’you think I’m going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all three of us I’ll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you and you can back me up.” “You’ve got some nerve –” said Ron loudly. “Shut up, both of you!” said Harry sharply. “I heard something.” It was a sort of snuffling. “Mrs Norris?” breathed Ron, squinting through the dark. It wasn’t Mrs Norris. It was Neville . He was curled up on the floor, fast asleep, but jerked suddenly awake as they crept nearer.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“Little tyke wants his money’s worth, just like his father. Atta boy, Dudley!” He ruffled Dudley’s hair. At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Ve rnon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a cine-camera, a remote-control aeroplane, sixteen new computer games and a video recorder. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petuni a came back from the telephone, looking both angry and worried. “Bad news, Vernon,” she said. “Mrs Figg’s broken her leg. She can’t take him.”<|quote|>She jerked her head in Harry’s direction. Dudley’s mouth fell open in horror but Harry’s heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley’s birthday his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger bars or the cinema. Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she’d ever owned.</|quote|>“Now what?” said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he’d planned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn’t easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr Paws and Tufty again. “We could phone Marge,” Uncle Vernon suggested. “Don’t be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy.” The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn’t there – or rather, as though he wa s something very nasty that couldn’t understand them, like a slug.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>“Little tyke wants his money’s worth, just like his father. Atta boy, Dudley!” He ruffled Dudley’s hair. At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Ve rnon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a cine-camera, a remote-control aeroplane, sixteen new computer games and a video recorder. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petuni a came back from the telephone, looking both angry and worried. “Bad news, Vernon,” she said. “Mrs Figg’s broken her leg. She can’t take him.”<|quote|>She jerked her head in Harry’s direction. Dudley’s mouth fell open in horror but Harry’s heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley’s birthday his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger bars or the cinema. Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she’d ever owned.</|quote|>“Now what?” said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he’d planned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn’t easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr Paws and Tufty again. “We could phone Marge,” Uncle Vernon suggested. “Don’t be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy.” The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn’t there – or rather, as though he wa s something very nasty that couldn’t understand them, like a slug.<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Little tyke wants his money’s worth, just like his father. Atta boy, Dudley!” He ruffled Dudley’s hair. At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Ve rnon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a cine-camera, a remote-control aeroplane, sixteen new computer games and a video recorder. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petuni a came back from the telephone, looking both angry and worried. “Bad news, Vernon,” she said. “Mrs Figg’s broken her leg. She can’t take him.”<|quote|>She jerked her head in Harry’s direction. Dudley’s mouth fell open in horror but Harry’s heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley’s birthday his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger bars or the cinema. Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she’d ever owned.</|quote|>“Now what?” said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he’d planned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn’t easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr Paws and Tufty again. “We could phone Marge,” Uncle Vernon suggested. “Don’t be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy.” The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn’t there – or rather, as though he wa s something very nasty that couldn’t understand them, like a slug.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Little tyke wants his money’s worth, just like his father. Atta boy, Dudley!” He ruffled Dudley’s hair. At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Ve rnon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a cine-camera, a remote-control aeroplane, sixteen new computer games and a video recorder. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petuni a came back from the telephone, looking both angry and worried. “Bad news, Vernon,” she said. “Mrs Figg’s broken her leg. She can’t take him.”<|quote|>She jerked her head in Harry’s direction. Dudley’s mouth fell open in horror but Harry’s heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley’s birthday his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger bars or the cinema. Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she’d ever owned.</|quote|>“Now what?” said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he’d planned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn’t easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr Paws and Tufty again. “We could phone Marge,” Uncle Vernon suggested. “Don’t be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy.” The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn’t there – or rather, as though he wa s something very nasty that couldn’t understand them, like a slug.<|speaker|> | <|context|>“Little tyke wants his money’s worth, just like his father. Atta boy, Dudley!” He ruffled Dudley’s hair. At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Ve rnon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a cine-camera, a remote-control aeroplane, sixteen new computer games and a video recorder. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petuni a came back from the telephone, looking both angry and worried. “Bad news, Vernon,” she said. “Mrs Figg’s broken her leg. She can’t take him.”<|quote|>She jerked her head in Harry’s direction. Dudley’s mouth fell open in horror but Harry’s heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley’s birthday his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger bars or the cinema. Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she’d ever owned.</|quote|>“Now what?” said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he’d planned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn’t easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr Paws and Tufty again. “We could phone Marge,” Uncle Vernon suggested. “Don’t be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy.” The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn’t there – or rather, as though he wa s something very nasty that couldn’t understand them, like a slug.<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>“Little tyke wants his money’s worth, just like his father. Atta boy, Dudley!” He ruffled Dudley’s hair. At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Ve rnon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a cine-camera, a remote-control aeroplane, sixteen new computer games and a video recorder. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petuni a came back from the telephone, looking both angry and worried. “Bad news, Vernon,” she said. “Mrs Figg’s broken her leg. She can’t take him.”<|quote|>She jerked her head in Harry’s direction. Dudley’s mouth fell open in horror but Harry’s heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley’s birthday his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger bars or the cinema. Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she’d ever owned.</|quote|>“Now what?” said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he’d planned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn’t easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr Paws and Tufty again. “We could phone Marge,” Uncle Vernon suggested. “Don’t be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy.” The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn’t there – or rather, as though he wa s something very nasty that couldn’t understand them, like a slug.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>said Ron, turning to his own pile, which was a lot bigger than Harry’s. Harry picked up the top parcel. It was wrapped in thick brown paper and scrawled across it was To Harry, from Hagrid . Inside was a roughly cut wooden flute. Hagrid ha d obviously whittled it himself. Harry blew it – it sounded a bit like an owl. A second, very small parcel contained a note. We received your message and enclose your Christmas present. From Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. Sellotaped to the note was a fifty-pence piece. “That’s friendly,” said Harry. Ron was fascinated by the fifty pence. “Weird!” he said. “What a shape! This is money?” “You can keep it,” said Harry, laughing at how pleased Ron was. “Hagrid and my aunt and uncle – so who sent these?” “I think I know who that one’s from ,” said Ron, going a bit pink and pointing to a very lumpy parcel. “My mum. I told her you didn’t expect any presents and – oh, no,”<|quote|>he groaned,</|quote|>“she’s made you a Weasley jumper.” Harry had torn open the parcel to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green and a large box of home-made fudge. “Every year she makes us a jumper,” said Ron, unwrapping his own, “and mine’s always maroon.” “That’s really nice of her,” said Harry, trying the fudge, which was very tasty. His next present also contained sweets – a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione. This left only one parcel. Harry pick ed it up and felt it. It was very light. He unwrapped it. Something fluid and silvery grey we nt slithering to the floor, where it lay in gleaming folds. Ron gasped. “I’ve heard of those,”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>said Ron, turning to his own pile, which was a lot bigger than Harry’s. Harry picked up the top parcel. It was wrapped in thick brown paper and scrawled across it was To Harry, from Hagrid . Inside was a roughly cut wooden flute. Hagrid ha d obviously whittled it himself. Harry blew it – it sounded a bit like an owl. A second, very small parcel contained a note. We received your message and enclose your Christmas present. From Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. Sellotaped to the note was a fifty-pence piece. “That’s friendly,” said Harry. Ron was fascinated by the fifty pence. “Weird!” he said. “What a shape! This is money?” “You can keep it,” said Harry, laughing at how pleased Ron was. “Hagrid and my aunt and uncle – so who sent these?” “I think I know who that one’s from ,” said Ron, going a bit pink and pointing to a very lumpy parcel. “My mum. I told her you didn’t expect any presents and – oh, no,”<|quote|>he groaned,</|quote|>“she’s made you a Weasley jumper.” Harry had torn open the parcel to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green and a large box of home-made fudge. “Every year she makes us a jumper,” said Ron, unwrapping his own, “and mine’s always maroon.” “That’s really nice of her,” said Harry, trying the fudge, which was very tasty. His next present also contained sweets – a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione. This left only one parcel. Harry pick ed it up and felt it. It was very light. He unwrapped it. Something fluid and silvery grey we nt slithering to the floor, where it lay in gleaming folds. Ron gasped. “I’ve heard of those,”<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>said Ron, turning to his own pile, which was a lot bigger than Harry’s. Harry picked up the top parcel. It was wrapped in thick brown paper and scrawled across it was To Harry, from Hagrid . Inside was a roughly cut wooden flute. Hagrid ha d obviously whittled it himself. Harry blew it – it sounded a bit like an owl. A second, very small parcel contained a note. We received your message and enclose your Christmas present. From Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. Sellotaped to the note was a fifty-pence piece. “That’s friendly,” said Harry. Ron was fascinated by the fifty pence. “Weird!” he said. “What a shape! This is money?” “You can keep it,” said Harry, laughing at how pleased Ron was. “Hagrid and my aunt and uncle – so who sent these?” “I think I know who that one’s from ,” said Ron, going a bit pink and pointing to a very lumpy parcel. “My mum. I told her you didn’t expect any presents and – oh, no,”<|quote|>he groaned,</|quote|>“she’s made you a Weasley jumper.” Harry had torn open the parcel to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green and a large box of home-made fudge. “Every year she makes us a jumper,” said Ron, unwrapping his own, “and mine’s always maroon.” “That’s really nice of her,” said Harry, trying the fudge, which was very tasty. His next present also contained sweets – a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione. This left only one parcel. Harry pick ed it up and felt it. It was very light. He unwrapped it. Something fluid and silvery grey we nt slithering to the floor, where it lay in gleaming folds. Ron gasped. “I’ve heard of those,”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>said Ron, turning to his own pile, which was a lot bigger than Harry’s. Harry picked up the top parcel. It was wrapped in thick brown paper and scrawled across it was To Harry, from Hagrid . Inside was a roughly cut wooden flute. Hagrid ha d obviously whittled it himself. Harry blew it – it sounded a bit like an owl. A second, very small parcel contained a note. We received your message and enclose your Christmas present. From Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. Sellotaped to the note was a fifty-pence piece. “That’s friendly,” said Harry. Ron was fascinated by the fifty pence. “Weird!” he said. “What a shape! This is money?” “You can keep it,” said Harry, laughing at how pleased Ron was. “Hagrid and my aunt and uncle – so who sent these?” “I think I know who that one’s from ,” said Ron, going a bit pink and pointing to a very lumpy parcel. “My mum. I told her you didn’t expect any presents and – oh, no,”<|quote|>he groaned,</|quote|>“she’s made you a Weasley jumper.” Harry had torn open the parcel to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green and a large box of home-made fudge. “Every year she makes us a jumper,” said Ron, unwrapping his own, “and mine’s always maroon.” “That’s really nice of her,” said Harry, trying the fudge, which was very tasty. His next present also contained sweets – a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione. This left only one parcel. Harry pick ed it up and felt it. It was very light. He unwrapped it. Something fluid and silvery grey we nt slithering to the floor, where it lay in gleaming folds. Ron gasped. “I’ve heard of those,”<|speaker|> | <|context|>said Ron, turning to his own pile, which was a lot bigger than Harry’s. Harry picked up the top parcel. It was wrapped in thick brown paper and scrawled across it was To Harry, from Hagrid . Inside was a roughly cut wooden flute. Hagrid ha d obviously whittled it himself. Harry blew it – it sounded a bit like an owl. A second, very small parcel contained a note. We received your message and enclose your Christmas present. From Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. Sellotaped to the note was a fifty-pence piece. “That’s friendly,” said Harry. Ron was fascinated by the fifty pence. “Weird!” he said. “What a shape! This is money?” “You can keep it,” said Harry, laughing at how pleased Ron was. “Hagrid and my aunt and uncle – so who sent these?” “I think I know who that one’s from ,” said Ron, going a bit pink and pointing to a very lumpy parcel. “My mum. I told her you didn’t expect any presents and – oh, no,”<|quote|>he groaned,</|quote|>“she’s made you a Weasley jumper.” Harry had torn open the parcel to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green and a large box of home-made fudge. “Every year she makes us a jumper,” said Ron, unwrapping his own, “and mine’s always maroon.” “That’s really nice of her,” said Harry, trying the fudge, which was very tasty. His next present also contained sweets – a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione. This left only one parcel. Harry pick ed it up and felt it. It was very light. He unwrapped it. Something fluid and silvery grey we nt slithering to the floor, where it lay in gleaming folds. Ron gasped. “I’ve heard of those,”<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>said Ron, turning to his own pile, which was a lot bigger than Harry’s. Harry picked up the top parcel. It was wrapped in thick brown paper and scrawled across it was To Harry, from Hagrid . Inside was a roughly cut wooden flute. Hagrid ha d obviously whittled it himself. Harry blew it – it sounded a bit like an owl. A second, very small parcel contained a note. We received your message and enclose your Christmas present. From Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. Sellotaped to the note was a fifty-pence piece. “That’s friendly,” said Harry. Ron was fascinated by the fifty pence. “Weird!” he said. “What a shape! This is money?” “You can keep it,” said Harry, laughing at how pleased Ron was. “Hagrid and my aunt and uncle – so who sent these?” “I think I know who that one’s from ,” said Ron, going a bit pink and pointing to a very lumpy parcel. “My mum. I told her you didn’t expect any presents and – oh, no,”<|quote|>he groaned,</|quote|>“she’s made you a Weasley jumper.” Harry had torn open the parcel to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green and a large box of home-made fudge. “Every year she makes us a jumper,” said Ron, unwrapping his own, “and mine’s always maroon.” “That’s really nice of her,” said Harry, trying the fudge, which was very tasty. His next present also contained sweets – a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione. This left only one parcel. Harry pick ed it up and felt it. It was very light. He unwrapped it. Something fluid and silvery grey we nt slithering to the floor, where it lay in gleaming folds. Ron gasped. “I’ve heard of those,”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn’t there – or rather, as though he wa s something very nasty that couldn’t understand them, like a slug. “What about what’s-her-name, your friend – Yvonne?” “On holiday in Majorca,” snapped Aunt Petunia. “You could just leave me here,” Harry put in hopefully (he’d be able to watch what he wanted on televi sion for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley’s computer). Aunt Petunia looked as though she’d just swallowed a lemon. “And come back and find the house in ruins?” she snarled. “I won’t blow up the house,” said Harry, but they weren’t listening.<|quote|>“I suppose we could take him to the zoo,”</|quote|>said Aunt Petunia slowly, “… and leave him in the car …” “That car’s new, he’s not sitting in it alone …” Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn’t really crying, it had been years since he’d really cried, but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted. “Dinky Duddydums, don’t cry, Mu mmy won’t let him spoil your special day!” she cried, flinging her arms around him. “I … don’t … want … him … t-t-to come!”<|speaker|>Aunt Petunia<eos> | <bos><|context|>The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn’t there – or rather, as though he wa s something very nasty that couldn’t understand them, like a slug. “What about what’s-her-name, your friend – Yvonne?” “On holiday in Majorca,” snapped Aunt Petunia. “You could just leave me here,” Harry put in hopefully (he’d be able to watch what he wanted on televi sion for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley’s computer). Aunt Petunia looked as though she’d just swallowed a lemon. “And come back and find the house in ruins?” she snarled. “I won’t blow up the house,” said Harry, but they weren’t listening.<|quote|>“I suppose we could take him to the zoo,”</|quote|>said Aunt Petunia slowly, “… and leave him in the car …” “That car’s new, he’s not sitting in it alone …” Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn’t really crying, it had been years since he’d really cried, but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted. “Dinky Duddydums, don’t cry, Mu mmy won’t let him spoil your special day!” she cried, flinging her arms around him. “I … don’t … want … him … t-t-to come!”<|speaker|> | Aunt Petunia | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn’t there – or rather, as though he wa s something very nasty that couldn’t understand them, like a slug. “What about what’s-her-name, your friend – Yvonne?” “On holiday in Majorca,” snapped Aunt Petunia. “You could just leave me here,” Harry put in hopefully (he’d be able to watch what he wanted on televi sion for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley’s computer). Aunt Petunia looked as though she’d just swallowed a lemon. “And come back and find the house in ruins?” she snarled. “I won’t blow up the house,” said Harry, but they weren’t listening.<|quote|>“I suppose we could take him to the zoo,”</|quote|>said Aunt Petunia slowly, “… and leave him in the car …” “That car’s new, he’s not sitting in it alone …” Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn’t really crying, it had been years since he’d really cried, but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted. “Dinky Duddydums, don’t cry, Mu mmy won’t let him spoil your special day!” she cried, flinging her arms around him. “I … don’t … want … him … t-t-to come!”<|speaker|>Aunt Petunia<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn’t there – or rather, as though he wa s something very nasty that couldn’t understand them, like a slug. “What about what’s-her-name, your friend – Yvonne?” “On holiday in Majorca,” snapped Aunt Petunia. “You could just leave me here,” Harry put in hopefully (he’d be able to watch what he wanted on televi sion for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley’s computer). Aunt Petunia looked as though she’d just swallowed a lemon. “And come back and find the house in ruins?” she snarled. “I won’t blow up the house,” said Harry, but they weren’t listening.<|quote|>“I suppose we could take him to the zoo,”</|quote|>said Aunt Petunia slowly, “… and leave him in the car …” “That car’s new, he’s not sitting in it alone …” Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn’t really crying, it had been years since he’d really cried, but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted. “Dinky Duddydums, don’t cry, Mu mmy won’t let him spoil your special day!” she cried, flinging her arms around him. “I … don’t … want … him … t-t-to come!”<|speaker|> | <|context|>The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn’t there – or rather, as though he wa s something very nasty that couldn’t understand them, like a slug. “What about what’s-her-name, your friend – Yvonne?” “On holiday in Majorca,” snapped Aunt Petunia. “You could just leave me here,” Harry put in hopefully (he’d be able to watch what he wanted on televi sion for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley’s computer). Aunt Petunia looked as though she’d just swallowed a lemon. “And come back and find the house in ruins?” she snarled. “I won’t blow up the house,” said Harry, but they weren’t listening.<|quote|>“I suppose we could take him to the zoo,”</|quote|>said Aunt Petunia slowly, “… and leave him in the car …” “That car’s new, he’s not sitting in it alone …” Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn’t really crying, it had been years since he’d really cried, but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted. “Dinky Duddydums, don’t cry, Mu mmy won’t let him spoil your special day!” she cried, flinging her arms around him. “I … don’t … want … him … t-t-to come!”<|speaker|>Aunt Petunia | <|context|>The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn’t there – or rather, as though he wa s something very nasty that couldn’t understand them, like a slug. “What about what’s-her-name, your friend – Yvonne?” “On holiday in Majorca,” snapped Aunt Petunia. “You could just leave me here,” Harry put in hopefully (he’d be able to watch what he wanted on televi sion for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley’s computer). Aunt Petunia looked as though she’d just swallowed a lemon. “And come back and find the house in ruins?” she snarled. “I won’t blow up the house,” said Harry, but they weren’t listening.<|quote|>“I suppose we could take him to the zoo,”</|quote|>said Aunt Petunia slowly, “… and leave him in the car …” “That car’s new, he’s not sitting in it alone …” Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn’t really crying, it had been years since he’d really cried, but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted. “Dinky Duddydums, don’t cry, Mu mmy won’t let him spoil your special day!” she cried, flinging her arms around him. “I … don’t … want … him … t-t-to come!”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they’d been bewitched. My dad does n’t believe it. He says Malfoy’s father didn’t need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side.” He turned to Hermione. “Can we help you with something?” “You’d better hurry up and put your robes on, I’ve just been up the front to ask the driver and he says we’re nearly there. You haven’t been fighting, have you? You’ll be in trouble before we even get there!” “Scabbers has been fighting, not us,”<|quote|>said Ron, scowling at her.</|quote|>“Would you mind leaving while we change?” “All right – I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors,” said Hermione in a sniffy voice. “And yo u’ve got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?” Ron glared at her as she left. Ha rry peered out of the window. It was getting dark. He could see mountains and forests under a deep-purple sky. The train did seem to be slowing down. He and Ron took off their jackets and pulled on their long black robes. Ron’s were a bit short for him, you could see his trainers underneath them. A voice echoed through the train:<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>“They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they’d been bewitched. My dad does n’t believe it. He says Malfoy’s father didn’t need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side.” He turned to Hermione. “Can we help you with something?” “You’d better hurry up and put your robes on, I’ve just been up the front to ask the driver and he says we’re nearly there. You haven’t been fighting, have you? You’ll be in trouble before we even get there!” “Scabbers has been fighting, not us,”<|quote|>said Ron, scowling at her.</|quote|>“Would you mind leaving while we change?” “All right – I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors,” said Hermione in a sniffy voice. “And yo u’ve got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?” Ron glared at her as she left. Ha rry peered out of the window. It was getting dark. He could see mountains and forests under a deep-purple sky. The train did seem to be slowing down. He and Ron took off their jackets and pulled on their long black robes. Ron’s were a bit short for him, you could see his trainers underneath them. A voice echoed through the train:<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they’d been bewitched. My dad does n’t believe it. He says Malfoy’s father didn’t need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side.” He turned to Hermione. “Can we help you with something?” “You’d better hurry up and put your robes on, I’ve just been up the front to ask the driver and he says we’re nearly there. You haven’t been fighting, have you? You’ll be in trouble before we even get there!” “Scabbers has been fighting, not us,”<|quote|>said Ron, scowling at her.</|quote|>“Would you mind leaving while we change?” “All right – I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors,” said Hermione in a sniffy voice. “And yo u’ve got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?” Ron glared at her as she left. Ha rry peered out of the window. It was getting dark. He could see mountains and forests under a deep-purple sky. The train did seem to be slowing down. He and Ron took off their jackets and pulled on their long black robes. Ron’s were a bit short for him, you could see his trainers underneath them. A voice echoed through the train:<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they’d been bewitched. My dad does n’t believe it. He says Malfoy’s father didn’t need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side.” He turned to Hermione. “Can we help you with something?” “You’d better hurry up and put your robes on, I’ve just been up the front to ask the driver and he says we’re nearly there. You haven’t been fighting, have you? You’ll be in trouble before we even get there!” “Scabbers has been fighting, not us,”<|quote|>said Ron, scowling at her.</|quote|>“Would you mind leaving while we change?” “All right – I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors,” said Hermione in a sniffy voice. “And yo u’ve got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?” Ron glared at her as she left. Ha rry peered out of the window. It was getting dark. He could see mountains and forests under a deep-purple sky. The train did seem to be slowing down. He and Ron took off their jackets and pulled on their long black robes. Ron’s were a bit short for him, you could see his trainers underneath them. A voice echoed through the train:<|speaker|> | <|context|>“They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they’d been bewitched. My dad does n’t believe it. He says Malfoy’s father didn’t need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side.” He turned to Hermione. “Can we help you with something?” “You’d better hurry up and put your robes on, I’ve just been up the front to ask the driver and he says we’re nearly there. You haven’t been fighting, have you? You’ll be in trouble before we even get there!” “Scabbers has been fighting, not us,”<|quote|>said Ron, scowling at her.</|quote|>“Would you mind leaving while we change?” “All right – I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors,” said Hermione in a sniffy voice. “And yo u’ve got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?” Ron glared at her as she left. Ha rry peered out of the window. It was getting dark. He could see mountains and forests under a deep-purple sky. The train did seem to be slowing down. He and Ron took off their jackets and pulled on their long black robes. Ron’s were a bit short for him, you could see his trainers underneath them. A voice echoed through the train:<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>“They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they’d been bewitched. My dad does n’t believe it. He says Malfoy’s father didn’t need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side.” He turned to Hermione. “Can we help you with something?” “You’d better hurry up and put your robes on, I’ve just been up the front to ask the driver and he says we’re nearly there. You haven’t been fighting, have you? You’ll be in trouble before we even get there!” “Scabbers has been fighting, not us,”<|quote|>said Ron, scowling at her.</|quote|>“Would you mind leaving while we change?” “All right – I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors,” said Hermione in a sniffy voice. “And yo u’ve got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?” Ron glared at her as she left. Ha rry peered out of the window. It was getting dark. He could see mountains and forests under a deep-purple sky. The train did seem to be slowing down. He and Ron took off their jackets and pulled on their long black robes. Ron’s were a bit short for him, you could see his trainers underneath them. A voice echoed through the train:<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“Little tyke wants his money’s worth, just like his father. Atta boy, Dudley!” He ruffled Dudley’s hair. At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Ve rnon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a cine-camera, a remote-control aeroplane, sixteen new computer games and a video recorder. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petuni a came back from the telephone, looking both angry and worried. “Bad news, Vernon,” she said.<|quote|>“Mrs Figg’s broken her leg. She can’t take him.”</|quote|>She jerked her head in Harry’s direction. Dudley’s mouth fell open in horror but Harry’s heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley’s birthday his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger bars or the cinema. Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she’d ever owned. “Now what?” said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he’d planned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn’t easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr Paws and Tufty again.<|speaker|>Aunt Petunia<eos> | <bos><|context|>“Little tyke wants his money’s worth, just like his father. Atta boy, Dudley!” He ruffled Dudley’s hair. At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Ve rnon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a cine-camera, a remote-control aeroplane, sixteen new computer games and a video recorder. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petuni a came back from the telephone, looking both angry and worried. “Bad news, Vernon,” she said.<|quote|>“Mrs Figg’s broken her leg. She can’t take him.”</|quote|>She jerked her head in Harry’s direction. Dudley’s mouth fell open in horror but Harry’s heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley’s birthday his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger bars or the cinema. Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she’d ever owned. “Now what?” said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he’d planned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn’t easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr Paws and Tufty again.<|speaker|> | Aunt Petunia | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Little tyke wants his money’s worth, just like his father. Atta boy, Dudley!” He ruffled Dudley’s hair. At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Ve rnon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a cine-camera, a remote-control aeroplane, sixteen new computer games and a video recorder. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petuni a came back from the telephone, looking both angry and worried. “Bad news, Vernon,” she said.<|quote|>“Mrs Figg’s broken her leg. She can’t take him.”</|quote|>She jerked her head in Harry’s direction. Dudley’s mouth fell open in horror but Harry’s heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley’s birthday his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger bars or the cinema. Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she’d ever owned. “Now what?” said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he’d planned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn’t easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr Paws and Tufty again.<|speaker|>Aunt Petunia<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Little tyke wants his money’s worth, just like his father. Atta boy, Dudley!” He ruffled Dudley’s hair. At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Ve rnon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a cine-camera, a remote-control aeroplane, sixteen new computer games and a video recorder. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petuni a came back from the telephone, looking both angry and worried. “Bad news, Vernon,” she said.<|quote|>“Mrs Figg’s broken her leg. She can’t take him.”</|quote|>She jerked her head in Harry’s direction. Dudley’s mouth fell open in horror but Harry’s heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley’s birthday his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger bars or the cinema. Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she’d ever owned. “Now what?” said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he’d planned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn’t easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr Paws and Tufty again.<|speaker|> | <|context|>“Little tyke wants his money’s worth, just like his father. Atta boy, Dudley!” He ruffled Dudley’s hair. At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Ve rnon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a cine-camera, a remote-control aeroplane, sixteen new computer games and a video recorder. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petuni a came back from the telephone, looking both angry and worried. “Bad news, Vernon,” she said.<|quote|>“Mrs Figg’s broken her leg. She can’t take him.”</|quote|>She jerked her head in Harry’s direction. Dudley’s mouth fell open in horror but Harry’s heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley’s birthday his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger bars or the cinema. Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she’d ever owned. “Now what?” said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he’d planned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn’t easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr Paws and Tufty again.<|speaker|>Aunt Petunia | <|context|>“Little tyke wants his money’s worth, just like his father. Atta boy, Dudley!” He ruffled Dudley’s hair. At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Ve rnon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a cine-camera, a remote-control aeroplane, sixteen new computer games and a video recorder. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petuni a came back from the telephone, looking both angry and worried. “Bad news, Vernon,” she said.<|quote|>“Mrs Figg’s broken her leg. She can’t take him.”</|quote|>She jerked her head in Harry’s direction. Dudley’s mouth fell open in horror but Harry’s heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley’s birthday his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger bars or the cinema. Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she’d ever owned. “Now what?” said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he’d planned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn’t easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr Paws and Tufty again.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>said Harry. He pushed his trolley round and st ared at the barrier. It looked very solid. He started to walk towards it. People jostled him on their way to platforms nine and ten. Harry walked more quickly. He was going to smash right into that ticket box and then he’d be in trouble – leaning forward on his trolley he broke into a heavy run – the barrier was coming nearer and nearer – he wouldn’t be able to stop – the trolley was out of control – he was a foot away – he closed his eyes ready for the crash – It didn’t come … he kept on running … he opened his eyes. A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, 11 o’clock . Harry looked behind him and saw a wrough t-iron archway where the ticket box had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it. He had done it. Smoke from the engine drifted ov er the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every colour wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to each other in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks. The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Harry pushed his trolley off do wn the platform in search of an empty seat. He passed a round-faced boy who was saying, “Gran, I’ve lost my toad again.” “Oh, Neville,”<|quote|>he heard the old woman sigh. A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd.</|quote|>“Give us a look, Lee, go on.” The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg. Harry pressed on through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the trai n. He put Hedwig inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk towards the train door. He tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice he dropped it painfully on his foot. “Want a hand?” It was one of the red-haired twins he’d followed through the ticket box. “Yes, please,” Harry panted. “Oy, Fred! C’mere and help!”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>said Harry. He pushed his trolley round and st ared at the barrier. It looked very solid. He started to walk towards it. People jostled him on their way to platforms nine and ten. Harry walked more quickly. He was going to smash right into that ticket box and then he’d be in trouble – leaning forward on his trolley he broke into a heavy run – the barrier was coming nearer and nearer – he wouldn’t be able to stop – the trolley was out of control – he was a foot away – he closed his eyes ready for the crash – It didn’t come … he kept on running … he opened his eyes. A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, 11 o’clock . Harry looked behind him and saw a wrough t-iron archway where the ticket box had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it. He had done it. Smoke from the engine drifted ov er the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every colour wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to each other in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks. The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Harry pushed his trolley off do wn the platform in search of an empty seat. He passed a round-faced boy who was saying, “Gran, I’ve lost my toad again.” “Oh, Neville,”<|quote|>he heard the old woman sigh. A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd.</|quote|>“Give us a look, Lee, go on.” The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg. Harry pressed on through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the trai n. He put Hedwig inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk towards the train door. He tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice he dropped it painfully on his foot. “Want a hand?” It was one of the red-haired twins he’d followed through the ticket box. “Yes, please,” Harry panted. “Oy, Fred! C’mere and help!”<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>said Harry. He pushed his trolley round and st ared at the barrier. It looked very solid. He started to walk towards it. People jostled him on their way to platforms nine and ten. Harry walked more quickly. He was going to smash right into that ticket box and then he’d be in trouble – leaning forward on his trolley he broke into a heavy run – the barrier was coming nearer and nearer – he wouldn’t be able to stop – the trolley was out of control – he was a foot away – he closed his eyes ready for the crash – It didn’t come … he kept on running … he opened his eyes. A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, 11 o’clock . Harry looked behind him and saw a wrough t-iron archway where the ticket box had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it. He had done it. Smoke from the engine drifted ov er the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every colour wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to each other in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks. The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Harry pushed his trolley off do wn the platform in search of an empty seat. He passed a round-faced boy who was saying, “Gran, I’ve lost my toad again.” “Oh, Neville,”<|quote|>he heard the old woman sigh. A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd.</|quote|>“Give us a look, Lee, go on.” The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg. Harry pressed on through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the trai n. He put Hedwig inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk towards the train door. He tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice he dropped it painfully on his foot. “Want a hand?” It was one of the red-haired twins he’d followed through the ticket box. “Yes, please,” Harry panted. “Oy, Fred! C’mere and help!”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>said Harry. He pushed his trolley round and st ared at the barrier. It looked very solid. He started to walk towards it. People jostled him on their way to platforms nine and ten. Harry walked more quickly. He was going to smash right into that ticket box and then he’d be in trouble – leaning forward on his trolley he broke into a heavy run – the barrier was coming nearer and nearer – he wouldn’t be able to stop – the trolley was out of control – he was a foot away – he closed his eyes ready for the crash – It didn’t come … he kept on running … he opened his eyes. A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, 11 o’clock . Harry looked behind him and saw a wrough t-iron archway where the ticket box had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it. He had done it. Smoke from the engine drifted ov er the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every colour wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to each other in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks. The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Harry pushed his trolley off do wn the platform in search of an empty seat. He passed a round-faced boy who was saying, “Gran, I’ve lost my toad again.” “Oh, Neville,”<|quote|>he heard the old woman sigh. A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd.</|quote|>“Give us a look, Lee, go on.” The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg. Harry pressed on through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the trai n. He put Hedwig inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk towards the train door. He tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice he dropped it painfully on his foot. “Want a hand?” It was one of the red-haired twins he’d followed through the ticket box. “Yes, please,” Harry panted. “Oy, Fred! C’mere and help!”<|speaker|> | <|context|>said Harry. He pushed his trolley round and st ared at the barrier. It looked very solid. He started to walk towards it. People jostled him on their way to platforms nine and ten. Harry walked more quickly. He was going to smash right into that ticket box and then he’d be in trouble – leaning forward on his trolley he broke into a heavy run – the barrier was coming nearer and nearer – he wouldn’t be able to stop – the trolley was out of control – he was a foot away – he closed his eyes ready for the crash – It didn’t come … he kept on running … he opened his eyes. A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, 11 o’clock . Harry looked behind him and saw a wrough t-iron archway where the ticket box had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it. He had done it. Smoke from the engine drifted ov er the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every colour wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to each other in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks. The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Harry pushed his trolley off do wn the platform in search of an empty seat. He passed a round-faced boy who was saying, “Gran, I’ve lost my toad again.” “Oh, Neville,”<|quote|>he heard the old woman sigh. A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd.</|quote|>“Give us a look, Lee, go on.” The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg. Harry pressed on through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the trai n. He put Hedwig inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk towards the train door. He tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice he dropped it painfully on his foot. “Want a hand?” It was one of the red-haired twins he’d followed through the ticket box. “Yes, please,” Harry panted. “Oy, Fred! C’mere and help!”<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>said Harry. He pushed his trolley round and st ared at the barrier. It looked very solid. He started to walk towards it. People jostled him on their way to platforms nine and ten. Harry walked more quickly. He was going to smash right into that ticket box and then he’d be in trouble – leaning forward on his trolley he broke into a heavy run – the barrier was coming nearer and nearer – he wouldn’t be able to stop – the trolley was out of control – he was a foot away – he closed his eyes ready for the crash – It didn’t come … he kept on running … he opened his eyes. A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, 11 o’clock . Harry looked behind him and saw a wrough t-iron archway where the ticket box had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it. He had done it. Smoke from the engine drifted ov er the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every colour wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to each other in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks. The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Harry pushed his trolley off do wn the platform in search of an empty seat. He passed a round-faced boy who was saying, “Gran, I’ve lost my toad again.” “Oh, Neville,”<|quote|>he heard the old woman sigh. A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd.</|quote|>“Give us a look, Lee, go on.” The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg. Harry pressed on through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the trai n. He put Hedwig inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk towards the train door. He tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice he dropped it painfully on his foot. “Want a hand?” It was one of the red-haired twins he’d followed through the ticket box. “Yes, please,” Harry panted. “Oy, Fred! C’mere and help!”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“I’d take you on any time on my own,” said Malfoy. “Tonight, if you want. Wizard’s duel. Wands only – no contact. What’s the matter? Never heard of a wizard’s duel before, I suppose?” “Of course he has,” said Ron, wheeling round. “I’m his second, who’s yours?” Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up. “Crabbe,” he said. “Midnight all right? We’ll meet you in the trophy room, that’s always unlocked.” When Malfoy had gone, Ron and Harry looked at each other.<|quote|>“What is a wizard’s duel?”</|quote|>said Harry. “And what do you mean, you’re my second?” “Well, a second’s there to take ov er if you die,” said Ron casually, getting started at last on his cold pie. Catching the look on Harry’s face, he added quickly, “but people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy’ll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway.” “And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?”<|speaker|>Harry Potter<eos> | <bos><|context|>“I’d take you on any time on my own,” said Malfoy. “Tonight, if you want. Wizard’s duel. Wands only – no contact. What’s the matter? Never heard of a wizard’s duel before, I suppose?” “Of course he has,” said Ron, wheeling round. “I’m his second, who’s yours?” Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up. “Crabbe,” he said. “Midnight all right? We’ll meet you in the trophy room, that’s always unlocked.” When Malfoy had gone, Ron and Harry looked at each other.<|quote|>“What is a wizard’s duel?”</|quote|>said Harry. “And what do you mean, you’re my second?” “Well, a second’s there to take ov er if you die,” said Ron casually, getting started at last on his cold pie. Catching the look on Harry’s face, he added quickly, “but people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy’ll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway.” “And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?”<|speaker|> | Harry Potter | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“I’d take you on any time on my own,” said Malfoy. “Tonight, if you want. Wizard’s duel. Wands only – no contact. What’s the matter? Never heard of a wizard’s duel before, I suppose?” “Of course he has,” said Ron, wheeling round. “I’m his second, who’s yours?” Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up. “Crabbe,” he said. “Midnight all right? We’ll meet you in the trophy room, that’s always unlocked.” When Malfoy had gone, Ron and Harry looked at each other.<|quote|>“What is a wizard’s duel?”</|quote|>said Harry. “And what do you mean, you’re my second?” “Well, a second’s there to take ov er if you die,” said Ron casually, getting started at last on his cold pie. Catching the look on Harry’s face, he added quickly, “but people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy’ll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway.” “And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?”<|speaker|>Harry Potter<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“I’d take you on any time on my own,” said Malfoy. “Tonight, if you want. Wizard’s duel. Wands only – no contact. What’s the matter? Never heard of a wizard’s duel before, I suppose?” “Of course he has,” said Ron, wheeling round. “I’m his second, who’s yours?” Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up. “Crabbe,” he said. “Midnight all right? We’ll meet you in the trophy room, that’s always unlocked.” When Malfoy had gone, Ron and Harry looked at each other.<|quote|>“What is a wizard’s duel?”</|quote|>said Harry. “And what do you mean, you’re my second?” “Well, a second’s there to take ov er if you die,” said Ron casually, getting started at last on his cold pie. Catching the look on Harry’s face, he added quickly, “but people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy’ll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway.” “And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?”<|speaker|> | <|context|>“I’d take you on any time on my own,” said Malfoy. “Tonight, if you want. Wizard’s duel. Wands only – no contact. What’s the matter? Never heard of a wizard’s duel before, I suppose?” “Of course he has,” said Ron, wheeling round. “I’m his second, who’s yours?” Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up. “Crabbe,” he said. “Midnight all right? We’ll meet you in the trophy room, that’s always unlocked.” When Malfoy had gone, Ron and Harry looked at each other.<|quote|>“What is a wizard’s duel?”</|quote|>said Harry. “And what do you mean, you’re my second?” “Well, a second’s there to take ov er if you die,” said Ron casually, getting started at last on his cold pie. Catching the look on Harry’s face, he added quickly, “but people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy’ll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway.” “And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?”<|speaker|>Harry Potter | <|context|>“I’d take you on any time on my own,” said Malfoy. “Tonight, if you want. Wizard’s duel. Wands only – no contact. What’s the matter? Never heard of a wizard’s duel before, I suppose?” “Of course he has,” said Ron, wheeling round. “I’m his second, who’s yours?” Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up. “Crabbe,” he said. “Midnight all right? We’ll meet you in the trophy room, that’s always unlocked.” When Malfoy had gone, Ron and Harry looked at each other.<|quote|>“What is a wizard’s duel?”</|quote|>said Harry. “And what do you mean, you’re my second?” “Well, a second’s there to take ov er if you die,” said Ron casually, getting started at last on his cold pie. Catching the look on Harry’s face, he added quickly, “but people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy’ll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway.” “And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“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.<|quote|>“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.</|quote|>“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 Hallowe’en 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.”<|speaker|>Hagrid<eos> | <bos><|context|>“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.<|quote|>“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.</|quote|>“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 Hallowe’en 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.”<|speaker|> | Hagrid | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“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.<|quote|>“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.</|quote|>“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 Hallowe’en 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.”<|speaker|>Hagrid<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“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.<|quote|>“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.</|quote|>“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 Hallowe’en 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.”<|speaker|> | <|context|>“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.<|quote|>“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.</|quote|>“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 Hallowe’en 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.”<|speaker|>Hagrid | <|context|>“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.<|quote|>“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.</|quote|>“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 Hallowe’en 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.”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>He walked up to a black knight and put his hand out to touch the knight’s horse. At once, the stone sprang to life. The horse pawed the ground and the knight turned his helm eted head to look down at Ron. “Do we – er – have to join you to get across?” The black knight nodded. Ron turned to the other two. “This wants thinking about …” he said. “I suppose we’ve got to take the place of three of the black pieces …” Harry and Hermione stayed quiet, watching Ron think. Finally he said, “Now, don’t be offended or anything, but neither of you are that good at chess –”<|quote|>“We’re not offended,”</|quote|>said Harry quickly. “Just tell us what to do.” “Well, Harry, you take the place of that bishop, and Hermione, you go next to him instead of that castle.” “What about you?” “I’m going to be a knight,” said Ron. The chessmen seemed to have b een listening, because at these words a knight, a bishop and a castle turned their backs on the white pieces and walked off the board leaving three empty squares which Harry, Ron and Hermione took. “White always plays first in chess,” said Ron, peering across the board. “Yes … look …” A white pawn had moved forward two squares. Ron started to direct the black pieces. They moved silently wherever he sent them. Harry’s knees were trembling. What if they lost?<|speaker|>Harry Potter<eos> | <bos><|context|>He walked up to a black knight and put his hand out to touch the knight’s horse. At once, the stone sprang to life. The horse pawed the ground and the knight turned his helm eted head to look down at Ron. “Do we – er – have to join you to get across?” The black knight nodded. Ron turned to the other two. “This wants thinking about …” he said. “I suppose we’ve got to take the place of three of the black pieces …” Harry and Hermione stayed quiet, watching Ron think. Finally he said, “Now, don’t be offended or anything, but neither of you are that good at chess –”<|quote|>“We’re not offended,”</|quote|>said Harry quickly. “Just tell us what to do.” “Well, Harry, you take the place of that bishop, and Hermione, you go next to him instead of that castle.” “What about you?” “I’m going to be a knight,” said Ron. The chessmen seemed to have b een listening, because at these words a knight, a bishop and a castle turned their backs on the white pieces and walked off the board leaving three empty squares which Harry, Ron and Hermione took. “White always plays first in chess,” said Ron, peering across the board. “Yes … look …” A white pawn had moved forward two squares. Ron started to direct the black pieces. They moved silently wherever he sent them. Harry’s knees were trembling. What if they lost?<|speaker|> | Harry Potter | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>He walked up to a black knight and put his hand out to touch the knight’s horse. At once, the stone sprang to life. The horse pawed the ground and the knight turned his helm eted head to look down at Ron. “Do we – er – have to join you to get across?” The black knight nodded. Ron turned to the other two. “This wants thinking about …” he said. “I suppose we’ve got to take the place of three of the black pieces …” Harry and Hermione stayed quiet, watching Ron think. Finally he said, “Now, don’t be offended or anything, but neither of you are that good at chess –”<|quote|>“We’re not offended,”</|quote|>said Harry quickly. “Just tell us what to do.” “Well, Harry, you take the place of that bishop, and Hermione, you go next to him instead of that castle.” “What about you?” “I’m going to be a knight,” said Ron. The chessmen seemed to have b een listening, because at these words a knight, a bishop and a castle turned their backs on the white pieces and walked off the board leaving three empty squares which Harry, Ron and Hermione took. “White always plays first in chess,” said Ron, peering across the board. “Yes … look …” A white pawn had moved forward two squares. Ron started to direct the black pieces. They moved silently wherever he sent them. Harry’s knees were trembling. What if they lost?<|speaker|>Harry Potter<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>He walked up to a black knight and put his hand out to touch the knight’s horse. At once, the stone sprang to life. The horse pawed the ground and the knight turned his helm eted head to look down at Ron. “Do we – er – have to join you to get across?” The black knight nodded. Ron turned to the other two. “This wants thinking about …” he said. “I suppose we’ve got to take the place of three of the black pieces …” Harry and Hermione stayed quiet, watching Ron think. Finally he said, “Now, don’t be offended or anything, but neither of you are that good at chess –”<|quote|>“We’re not offended,”</|quote|>said Harry quickly. “Just tell us what to do.” “Well, Harry, you take the place of that bishop, and Hermione, you go next to him instead of that castle.” “What about you?” “I’m going to be a knight,” said Ron. The chessmen seemed to have b een listening, because at these words a knight, a bishop and a castle turned their backs on the white pieces and walked off the board leaving three empty squares which Harry, Ron and Hermione took. “White always plays first in chess,” said Ron, peering across the board. “Yes … look …” A white pawn had moved forward two squares. Ron started to direct the black pieces. They moved silently wherever he sent them. Harry’s knees were trembling. What if they lost?<|speaker|> | <|context|>He walked up to a black knight and put his hand out to touch the knight’s horse. At once, the stone sprang to life. The horse pawed the ground and the knight turned his helm eted head to look down at Ron. “Do we – er – have to join you to get across?” The black knight nodded. Ron turned to the other two. “This wants thinking about …” he said. “I suppose we’ve got to take the place of three of the black pieces …” Harry and Hermione stayed quiet, watching Ron think. Finally he said, “Now, don’t be offended or anything, but neither of you are that good at chess –”<|quote|>“We’re not offended,”</|quote|>said Harry quickly. “Just tell us what to do.” “Well, Harry, you take the place of that bishop, and Hermione, you go next to him instead of that castle.” “What about you?” “I’m going to be a knight,” said Ron. The chessmen seemed to have b een listening, because at these words a knight, a bishop and a castle turned their backs on the white pieces and walked off the board leaving three empty squares which Harry, Ron and Hermione took. “White always plays first in chess,” said Ron, peering across the board. “Yes … look …” A white pawn had moved forward two squares. Ron started to direct the black pieces. They moved silently wherever he sent them. Harry’s knees were trembling. What if they lost?<|speaker|>Harry Potter | <|context|>He walked up to a black knight and put his hand out to touch the knight’s horse. At once, the stone sprang to life. The horse pawed the ground and the knight turned his helm eted head to look down at Ron. “Do we – er – have to join you to get across?” The black knight nodded. Ron turned to the other two. “This wants thinking about …” he said. “I suppose we’ve got to take the place of three of the black pieces …” Harry and Hermione stayed quiet, watching Ron think. Finally he said, “Now, don’t be offended or anything, but neither of you are that good at chess –”<|quote|>“We’re not offended,”</|quote|>said Harry quickly. “Just tell us what to do.” “Well, Harry, you take the place of that bishop, and Hermione, you go next to him instead of that castle.” “What about you?” “I’m going to be a knight,” said Ron. The chessmen seemed to have b een listening, because at these words a knight, a bishop and a castle turned their backs on the white pieces and walked off the board leaving three empty squares which Harry, Ron and Hermione took. “White always plays first in chess,” said Ron, peering across the board. “Yes … look …” A white pawn had moved forward two squares. Ron started to direct the black pieces. They moved silently wherever he sent them. Harry’s knees were trembling. What if they lost?<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“Oh, a fair few … Keep themselves to themselves mostly, but they’re good enough about turnin’ up if ever I want a word. They’re deep, mind, centaurs … they know th ings … jus’ don’ let on much.” “D’you think that was a centaur we heard earlier?” said Harry. “Did that sound like hooves to you? Nah, if yeh ask me, that was what’s bin killin’ the unicorns – never heard anythin’ like it before.” They walked on through the dense, dark trees. Harry kept looking nervously over his shoulder. He had the nasty feeling they were being watched. He was very glad they had Hagrid and his crossbow with them. They had just passed a bend in the path when Hermione grabbed Hagrid’s arm. “Hagrid! Look! Red sparks, the others are in trouble!” “You two wait here!”<|quote|>Hagrid shou ted.</|quote|>“Stay on the path, I’ll come back for yeh!” They heard him crashing away through the undergrowth and stood looking at each other, very scared, until they couldn’t hear anything but the rustling of leaves around them. “You don’t think they’ve been hur t, do you?” whispered Hermione. “I don’t care if Malfoy has, but if something’s got Neville … It’s our fault he’s here in the first place.” The minutes dragged by. Their ears seemed sharper than usual. Harry’s seemed to be picking up eve ry sigh of the wind, every cracking twig. What was going on? Where were the others? At last, a great crunching noise a nnounced Hagrid’s return. Malfoy, Neville and Fang were with him. Hagrid was fuming. Malfoy, it seemed, had sneaked up behind Neville and grabbed him for a joke. Neville had panicked and sent up the sparks.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>“Oh, a fair few … Keep themselves to themselves mostly, but they’re good enough about turnin’ up if ever I want a word. They’re deep, mind, centaurs … they know th ings … jus’ don’ let on much.” “D’you think that was a centaur we heard earlier?” said Harry. “Did that sound like hooves to you? Nah, if yeh ask me, that was what’s bin killin’ the unicorns – never heard anythin’ like it before.” They walked on through the dense, dark trees. Harry kept looking nervously over his shoulder. He had the nasty feeling they were being watched. He was very glad they had Hagrid and his crossbow with them. They had just passed a bend in the path when Hermione grabbed Hagrid’s arm. “Hagrid! Look! Red sparks, the others are in trouble!” “You two wait here!”<|quote|>Hagrid shou ted.</|quote|>“Stay on the path, I’ll come back for yeh!” They heard him crashing away through the undergrowth and stood looking at each other, very scared, until they couldn’t hear anything but the rustling of leaves around them. “You don’t think they’ve been hur t, do you?” whispered Hermione. “I don’t care if Malfoy has, but if something’s got Neville … It’s our fault he’s here in the first place.” The minutes dragged by. Their ears seemed sharper than usual. Harry’s seemed to be picking up eve ry sigh of the wind, every cracking twig. What was going on? Where were the others? At last, a great crunching noise a nnounced Hagrid’s return. Malfoy, Neville and Fang were with him. Hagrid was fuming. Malfoy, it seemed, had sneaked up behind Neville and grabbed him for a joke. Neville had panicked and sent up the sparks.<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Oh, a fair few … Keep themselves to themselves mostly, but they’re good enough about turnin’ up if ever I want a word. They’re deep, mind, centaurs … they know th ings … jus’ don’ let on much.” “D’you think that was a centaur we heard earlier?” said Harry. “Did that sound like hooves to you? Nah, if yeh ask me, that was what’s bin killin’ the unicorns – never heard anythin’ like it before.” They walked on through the dense, dark trees. Harry kept looking nervously over his shoulder. He had the nasty feeling they were being watched. He was very glad they had Hagrid and his crossbow with them. They had just passed a bend in the path when Hermione grabbed Hagrid’s arm. “Hagrid! Look! Red sparks, the others are in trouble!” “You two wait here!”<|quote|>Hagrid shou ted.</|quote|>“Stay on the path, I’ll come back for yeh!” They heard him crashing away through the undergrowth and stood looking at each other, very scared, until they couldn’t hear anything but the rustling of leaves around them. “You don’t think they’ve been hur t, do you?” whispered Hermione. “I don’t care if Malfoy has, but if something’s got Neville … It’s our fault he’s here in the first place.” The minutes dragged by. Their ears seemed sharper than usual. Harry’s seemed to be picking up eve ry sigh of the wind, every cracking twig. What was going on? Where were the others? At last, a great crunching noise a nnounced Hagrid’s return. Malfoy, Neville and Fang were with him. Hagrid was fuming. Malfoy, it seemed, had sneaked up behind Neville and grabbed him for a joke. Neville had panicked and sent up the sparks.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Oh, a fair few … Keep themselves to themselves mostly, but they’re good enough about turnin’ up if ever I want a word. They’re deep, mind, centaurs … they know th ings … jus’ don’ let on much.” “D’you think that was a centaur we heard earlier?” said Harry. “Did that sound like hooves to you? Nah, if yeh ask me, that was what’s bin killin’ the unicorns – never heard anythin’ like it before.” They walked on through the dense, dark trees. Harry kept looking nervously over his shoulder. He had the nasty feeling they were being watched. He was very glad they had Hagrid and his crossbow with them. They had just passed a bend in the path when Hermione grabbed Hagrid’s arm. “Hagrid! Look! Red sparks, the others are in trouble!” “You two wait here!”<|quote|>Hagrid shou ted.</|quote|>“Stay on the path, I’ll come back for yeh!” They heard him crashing away through the undergrowth and stood looking at each other, very scared, until they couldn’t hear anything but the rustling of leaves around them. “You don’t think they’ve been hur t, do you?” whispered Hermione. “I don’t care if Malfoy has, but if something’s got Neville … It’s our fault he’s here in the first place.” The minutes dragged by. Their ears seemed sharper than usual. Harry’s seemed to be picking up eve ry sigh of the wind, every cracking twig. What was going on? Where were the others? At last, a great crunching noise a nnounced Hagrid’s return. Malfoy, Neville and Fang were with him. Hagrid was fuming. Malfoy, it seemed, had sneaked up behind Neville and grabbed him for a joke. Neville had panicked and sent up the sparks.<|speaker|> | <|context|>“Oh, a fair few … Keep themselves to themselves mostly, but they’re good enough about turnin’ up if ever I want a word. They’re deep, mind, centaurs … they know th ings … jus’ don’ let on much.” “D’you think that was a centaur we heard earlier?” said Harry. “Did that sound like hooves to you? Nah, if yeh ask me, that was what’s bin killin’ the unicorns – never heard anythin’ like it before.” They walked on through the dense, dark trees. Harry kept looking nervously over his shoulder. He had the nasty feeling they were being watched. He was very glad they had Hagrid and his crossbow with them. They had just passed a bend in the path when Hermione grabbed Hagrid’s arm. “Hagrid! Look! Red sparks, the others are in trouble!” “You two wait here!”<|quote|>Hagrid shou ted.</|quote|>“Stay on the path, I’ll come back for yeh!” They heard him crashing away through the undergrowth and stood looking at each other, very scared, until they couldn’t hear anything but the rustling of leaves around them. “You don’t think they’ve been hur t, do you?” whispered Hermione. “I don’t care if Malfoy has, but if something’s got Neville … It’s our fault he’s here in the first place.” The minutes dragged by. Their ears seemed sharper than usual. Harry’s seemed to be picking up eve ry sigh of the wind, every cracking twig. What was going on? Where were the others? At last, a great crunching noise a nnounced Hagrid’s return. Malfoy, Neville and Fang were with him. Hagrid was fuming. Malfoy, it seemed, had sneaked up behind Neville and grabbed him for a joke. Neville had panicked and sent up the sparks.<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>“Oh, a fair few … Keep themselves to themselves mostly, but they’re good enough about turnin’ up if ever I want a word. They’re deep, mind, centaurs … they know th ings … jus’ don’ let on much.” “D’you think that was a centaur we heard earlier?” said Harry. “Did that sound like hooves to you? Nah, if yeh ask me, that was what’s bin killin’ the unicorns – never heard anythin’ like it before.” They walked on through the dense, dark trees. Harry kept looking nervously over his shoulder. He had the nasty feeling they were being watched. He was very glad they had Hagrid and his crossbow with them. They had just passed a bend in the path when Hermione grabbed Hagrid’s arm. “Hagrid! Look! Red sparks, the others are in trouble!” “You two wait here!”<|quote|>Hagrid shou ted.</|quote|>“Stay on the path, I’ll come back for yeh!” They heard him crashing away through the undergrowth and stood looking at each other, very scared, until they couldn’t hear anything but the rustling of leaves around them. “You don’t think they’ve been hur t, do you?” whispered Hermione. “I don’t care if Malfoy has, but if something’s got Neville … It’s our fault he’s here in the first place.” The minutes dragged by. Their ears seemed sharper than usual. Harry’s seemed to be picking up eve ry sigh of the wind, every cracking twig. What was going on? Where were the others? At last, a great crunching noise a nnounced Hagrid’s return. Malfoy, Neville and Fang were with him. Hagrid was fuming. Malfoy, it seemed, had sneaked up behind Neville and grabbed him for a joke. Neville had panicked and sent up the sparks.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>she said, once they were all gathered around her. Harry notice d that she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint, a fifth-year. Harry thought Flint looked as if he had so me troll blood in him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the fluttering banner high above, flashing Potter for President over the crowd. His heart skipped. He felt braver. “Mount your brooms, please.” Harry clambered on to his Nimbus Two Thousand. Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle. Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off. “And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor – what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too –”<|quote|>“JORDAN!”</|quote|>“Sorry, Professor.” The Weasley twins’ friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall. “And she’s really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood ’s, last year only a reserve – back to Johnson and – no, Slytherin have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes – Flint flying like an eagle up there – he’s going to sc – no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and Gryffindor take the Quaffle – that’s Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and – OUCH – that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger – Quaffle taken by Slytherin – that’s Adrian Pucey speeding off towards the goalposts, but he’s blocked by a second Bludger – sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can’t tell which – nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear fi eld ahead and off she goes – she’s really flying – dodges a speeding Bludger – the goalposts are ahead – come on, now, Angelina – Keeper Bletchley dives – misses – GRYFFINDOR SCORE!”<|speaker|>Professor McGonagall<eos> | <bos><|context|>she said, once they were all gathered around her. Harry notice d that she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint, a fifth-year. Harry thought Flint looked as if he had so me troll blood in him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the fluttering banner high above, flashing Potter for President over the crowd. His heart skipped. He felt braver. “Mount your brooms, please.” Harry clambered on to his Nimbus Two Thousand. Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle. Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off. “And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor – what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too –”<|quote|>“JORDAN!”</|quote|>“Sorry, Professor.” The Weasley twins’ friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall. “And she’s really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood ’s, last year only a reserve – back to Johnson and – no, Slytherin have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes – Flint flying like an eagle up there – he’s going to sc – no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and Gryffindor take the Quaffle – that’s Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and – OUCH – that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger – Quaffle taken by Slytherin – that’s Adrian Pucey speeding off towards the goalposts, but he’s blocked by a second Bludger – sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can’t tell which – nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear fi eld ahead and off she goes – she’s really flying – dodges a speeding Bludger – the goalposts are ahead – come on, now, Angelina – Keeper Bletchley dives – misses – GRYFFINDOR SCORE!”<|speaker|> | Professor McGonagall | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>she said, once they were all gathered around her. Harry notice d that she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint, a fifth-year. Harry thought Flint looked as if he had so me troll blood in him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the fluttering banner high above, flashing Potter for President over the crowd. His heart skipped. He felt braver. “Mount your brooms, please.” Harry clambered on to his Nimbus Two Thousand. Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle. Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off. “And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor – what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too –”<|quote|>“JORDAN!”</|quote|>“Sorry, Professor.” The Weasley twins’ friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall. “And she’s really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood ’s, last year only a reserve – back to Johnson and – no, Slytherin have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes – Flint flying like an eagle up there – he’s going to sc – no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and Gryffindor take the Quaffle – that’s Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and – OUCH – that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger – Quaffle taken by Slytherin – that’s Adrian Pucey speeding off towards the goalposts, but he’s blocked by a second Bludger – sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can’t tell which – nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear fi eld ahead and off she goes – she’s really flying – dodges a speeding Bludger – the goalposts are ahead – come on, now, Angelina – Keeper Bletchley dives – misses – GRYFFINDOR SCORE!”<|speaker|>Professor McGonagall<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>she said, once they were all gathered around her. Harry notice d that she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint, a fifth-year. Harry thought Flint looked as if he had so me troll blood in him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the fluttering banner high above, flashing Potter for President over the crowd. His heart skipped. He felt braver. “Mount your brooms, please.” Harry clambered on to his Nimbus Two Thousand. Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle. Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off. “And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor – what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too –”<|quote|>“JORDAN!”</|quote|>“Sorry, Professor.” The Weasley twins’ friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall. “And she’s really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood ’s, last year only a reserve – back to Johnson and – no, Slytherin have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes – Flint flying like an eagle up there – he’s going to sc – no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and Gryffindor take the Quaffle – that’s Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and – OUCH – that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger – Quaffle taken by Slytherin – that’s Adrian Pucey speeding off towards the goalposts, but he’s blocked by a second Bludger – sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can’t tell which – nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear fi eld ahead and off she goes – she’s really flying – dodges a speeding Bludger – the goalposts are ahead – come on, now, Angelina – Keeper Bletchley dives – misses – GRYFFINDOR SCORE!”<|speaker|> | <|context|>she said, once they were all gathered around her. Harry notice d that she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint, a fifth-year. Harry thought Flint looked as if he had so me troll blood in him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the fluttering banner high above, flashing Potter for President over the crowd. His heart skipped. He felt braver. “Mount your brooms, please.” Harry clambered on to his Nimbus Two Thousand. Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle. Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off. “And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor – what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too –”<|quote|>“JORDAN!”</|quote|>“Sorry, Professor.” The Weasley twins’ friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall. “And she’s really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood ’s, last year only a reserve – back to Johnson and – no, Slytherin have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes – Flint flying like an eagle up there – he’s going to sc – no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and Gryffindor take the Quaffle – that’s Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and – OUCH – that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger – Quaffle taken by Slytherin – that’s Adrian Pucey speeding off towards the goalposts, but he’s blocked by a second Bludger – sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can’t tell which – nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear fi eld ahead and off she goes – she’s really flying – dodges a speeding Bludger – the goalposts are ahead – come on, now, Angelina – Keeper Bletchley dives – misses – GRYFFINDOR SCORE!”<|speaker|>Professor McGonagall | <|context|>she said, once they were all gathered around her. Harry notice d that she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint, a fifth-year. Harry thought Flint looked as if he had so me troll blood in him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the fluttering banner high above, flashing Potter for President over the crowd. His heart skipped. He felt braver. “Mount your brooms, please.” Harry clambered on to his Nimbus Two Thousand. Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle. Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off. “And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor – what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too –”<|quote|>“JORDAN!”</|quote|>“Sorry, Professor.” The Weasley twins’ friend, Lee Jordan, was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall. “And she’s really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood ’s, last year only a reserve – back to Johnson and – no, Slytherin have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes – Flint flying like an eagle up there – he’s going to sc – no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and Gryffindor take the Quaffle – that’s Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and – OUCH – that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger – Quaffle taken by Slytherin – that’s Adrian Pucey speeding off towards the goalposts, but he’s blocked by a second Bludger – sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can’t tell which – nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear fi eld ahead and off she goes – she’s really flying – dodges a speeding Bludger – the goalposts are ahead – come on, now, Angelina – Keeper Bletchley dives – misses – GRYFFINDOR SCORE!”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“Yes, him – Quirrell said he hates me because he hated my father. Is that true?” “Well, they did rather detest each other. Not unlike yourself and Mr Malfoy. And then, your father did something Snape could never forgive.” “What?” “He saved his life.” “What?” “Yes …” said Dumbledore dreamily. “Funny, the way people’s minds work, isn’t it? Professor Snape couldn’t bear being in your father’s debt … I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father quits. Then he could go back to hating your father’s memory in peace …”<|quote|>Harry tried to understand this but it made his head pound, so he stopped.</|quote|>“And sir, there’s one more thing …” “Just the one?” “How did I get the Stone out of the Mirror?” “Ah, now, I’m glad you asked me that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that’s saying something. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone – find it, but not use it – would be able to get it, otherwise they’d just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life. My brain surprises even me sometimes … Now, enough questions. I suggest you make a start on these sweets. Ah! Bertie Bolt’s Every-Flavour Bean s! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit-flavoured one, and since then I’m afraid I’ve rather lost my liking for them – but I think I’ll be safe with a nice toffee, don’t you?”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>“Yes, him – Quirrell said he hates me because he hated my father. Is that true?” “Well, they did rather detest each other. Not unlike yourself and Mr Malfoy. And then, your father did something Snape could never forgive.” “What?” “He saved his life.” “What?” “Yes …” said Dumbledore dreamily. “Funny, the way people’s minds work, isn’t it? Professor Snape couldn’t bear being in your father’s debt … I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father quits. Then he could go back to hating your father’s memory in peace …”<|quote|>Harry tried to understand this but it made his head pound, so he stopped.</|quote|>“And sir, there’s one more thing …” “Just the one?” “How did I get the Stone out of the Mirror?” “Ah, now, I’m glad you asked me that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that’s saying something. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone – find it, but not use it – would be able to get it, otherwise they’d just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life. My brain surprises even me sometimes … Now, enough questions. I suggest you make a start on these sweets. Ah! Bertie Bolt’s Every-Flavour Bean s! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit-flavoured one, and since then I’m afraid I’ve rather lost my liking for them – but I think I’ll be safe with a nice toffee, don’t you?”<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Yes, him – Quirrell said he hates me because he hated my father. Is that true?” “Well, they did rather detest each other. Not unlike yourself and Mr Malfoy. And then, your father did something Snape could never forgive.” “What?” “He saved his life.” “What?” “Yes …” said Dumbledore dreamily. “Funny, the way people’s minds work, isn’t it? Professor Snape couldn’t bear being in your father’s debt … I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father quits. Then he could go back to hating your father’s memory in peace …”<|quote|>Harry tried to understand this but it made his head pound, so he stopped.</|quote|>“And sir, there’s one more thing …” “Just the one?” “How did I get the Stone out of the Mirror?” “Ah, now, I’m glad you asked me that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that’s saying something. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone – find it, but not use it – would be able to get it, otherwise they’d just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life. My brain surprises even me sometimes … Now, enough questions. I suggest you make a start on these sweets. Ah! Bertie Bolt’s Every-Flavour Bean s! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit-flavoured one, and since then I’m afraid I’ve rather lost my liking for them – but I think I’ll be safe with a nice toffee, don’t you?”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Yes, him – Quirrell said he hates me because he hated my father. Is that true?” “Well, they did rather detest each other. Not unlike yourself and Mr Malfoy. And then, your father did something Snape could never forgive.” “What?” “He saved his life.” “What?” “Yes …” said Dumbledore dreamily. “Funny, the way people’s minds work, isn’t it? Professor Snape couldn’t bear being in your father’s debt … I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father quits. Then he could go back to hating your father’s memory in peace …”<|quote|>Harry tried to understand this but it made his head pound, so he stopped.</|quote|>“And sir, there’s one more thing …” “Just the one?” “How did I get the Stone out of the Mirror?” “Ah, now, I’m glad you asked me that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that’s saying something. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone – find it, but not use it – would be able to get it, otherwise they’d just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life. My brain surprises even me sometimes … Now, enough questions. I suggest you make a start on these sweets. Ah! Bertie Bolt’s Every-Flavour Bean s! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit-flavoured one, and since then I’m afraid I’ve rather lost my liking for them – but I think I’ll be safe with a nice toffee, don’t you?”<|speaker|> | <|context|>“Yes, him – Quirrell said he hates me because he hated my father. Is that true?” “Well, they did rather detest each other. Not unlike yourself and Mr Malfoy. And then, your father did something Snape could never forgive.” “What?” “He saved his life.” “What?” “Yes …” said Dumbledore dreamily. “Funny, the way people’s minds work, isn’t it? Professor Snape couldn’t bear being in your father’s debt … I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father quits. Then he could go back to hating your father’s memory in peace …”<|quote|>Harry tried to understand this but it made his head pound, so he stopped.</|quote|>“And sir, there’s one more thing …” “Just the one?” “How did I get the Stone out of the Mirror?” “Ah, now, I’m glad you asked me that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that’s saying something. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone – find it, but not use it – would be able to get it, otherwise they’d just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life. My brain surprises even me sometimes … Now, enough questions. I suggest you make a start on these sweets. Ah! Bertie Bolt’s Every-Flavour Bean s! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit-flavoured one, and since then I’m afraid I’ve rather lost my liking for them – but I think I’ll be safe with a nice toffee, don’t you?”<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>“Yes, him – Quirrell said he hates me because he hated my father. Is that true?” “Well, they did rather detest each other. Not unlike yourself and Mr Malfoy. And then, your father did something Snape could never forgive.” “What?” “He saved his life.” “What?” “Yes …” said Dumbledore dreamily. “Funny, the way people’s minds work, isn’t it? Professor Snape couldn’t bear being in your father’s debt … I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father quits. Then he could go back to hating your father’s memory in peace …”<|quote|>Harry tried to understand this but it made his head pound, so he stopped.</|quote|>“And sir, there’s one more thing …” “Just the one?” “How did I get the Stone out of the Mirror?” “Ah, now, I’m glad you asked me that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that’s saying something. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone – find it, but not use it – would be able to get it, otherwise they’d just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life. My brain surprises even me sometimes … Now, enough questions. I suggest you make a start on these sweets. Ah! Bertie Bolt’s Every-Flavour Bean s! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit-flavoured one, and since then I’m afraid I’ve rather lost my liking for them – but I think I’ll be safe with a nice toffee, don’t you?”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>2 – The Vanishing Glass Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys’ front d oor; it crept into their living-room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr Dursley had seen that fateful ne ws report about the owls. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece re ally showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different-coloured bobble hats – but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large, blond boy riding hi s first bicycle, on a roundabout at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother. The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house, too. Yet Harry Potter was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. His Aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice which made the first noise of the day. “Up! Get up! Now!” Harry woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again. “Up!” she screeched. Harry heard her walking towards the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the cooker. He rolled on to his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a good one. Th ere had been a flying motorbike in it. He had a funny feeling he’d had the same dream before. His aunt was back outside the door. “Are you up yet?” she demanded.<|quote|>“Nearly,”</|quote|>said Harry. “Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don’t you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy’s birthday.” Harry groaned. “What did you say?” his aunt snapped through the door. “Nothing, nothing …” Dudley’s birthday – how could he have forgotten? Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair under his bed and, after pulling a spider off on e of them, put them on. Harry was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where he slept. When he was dressed he went down the hall into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley’s birthday presents. It looked as though Dudley had got th e new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and th e racing bike. Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Harry, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise – unless of course it involved punching somebody. Dudley’s favourite punch-bag was Harry, but he couldn’t often catch him. Harry didn’t look it, but he was very fast. Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry had always been small and ski nny for his age. He looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley’s and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was. Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair and bright-green eyes. He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Sellotape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose. The only thing Harry liked ab out his own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead which was shaped like a bolt of lightning. He had had it as long as he could remember and the first question he could ever remember asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had got it.<|speaker|>Harry Potter<eos> | <bos><|context|>2 – The Vanishing Glass Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys’ front d oor; it crept into their living-room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr Dursley had seen that fateful ne ws report about the owls. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece re ally showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different-coloured bobble hats – but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large, blond boy riding hi s first bicycle, on a roundabout at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother. The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house, too. Yet Harry Potter was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. His Aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice which made the first noise of the day. “Up! Get up! Now!” Harry woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again. “Up!” she screeched. Harry heard her walking towards the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the cooker. He rolled on to his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a good one. Th ere had been a flying motorbike in it. He had a funny feeling he’d had the same dream before. His aunt was back outside the door. “Are you up yet?” she demanded.<|quote|>“Nearly,”</|quote|>said Harry. “Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don’t you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy’s birthday.” Harry groaned. “What did you say?” his aunt snapped through the door. “Nothing, nothing …” Dudley’s birthday – how could he have forgotten? Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair under his bed and, after pulling a spider off on e of them, put them on. Harry was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where he slept. When he was dressed he went down the hall into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley’s birthday presents. It looked as though Dudley had got th e new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and th e racing bike. Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Harry, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise – unless of course it involved punching somebody. Dudley’s favourite punch-bag was Harry, but he couldn’t often catch him. Harry didn’t look it, but he was very fast. Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry had always been small and ski nny for his age. He looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley’s and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was. Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair and bright-green eyes. He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Sellotape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose. The only thing Harry liked ab out his own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead which was shaped like a bolt of lightning. He had had it as long as he could remember and the first question he could ever remember asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had got it.<|speaker|> | Harry Potter | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>2 – The Vanishing Glass Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys’ front d oor; it crept into their living-room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr Dursley had seen that fateful ne ws report about the owls. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece re ally showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different-coloured bobble hats – but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large, blond boy riding hi s first bicycle, on a roundabout at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother. The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house, too. Yet Harry Potter was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. His Aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice which made the first noise of the day. “Up! Get up! Now!” Harry woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again. “Up!” she screeched. Harry heard her walking towards the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the cooker. He rolled on to his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a good one. Th ere had been a flying motorbike in it. He had a funny feeling he’d had the same dream before. His aunt was back outside the door. “Are you up yet?” she demanded.<|quote|>“Nearly,”</|quote|>said Harry. “Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don’t you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy’s birthday.” Harry groaned. “What did you say?” his aunt snapped through the door. “Nothing, nothing …” Dudley’s birthday – how could he have forgotten? Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair under his bed and, after pulling a spider off on e of them, put them on. Harry was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where he slept. When he was dressed he went down the hall into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley’s birthday presents. It looked as though Dudley had got th e new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and th e racing bike. Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Harry, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise – unless of course it involved punching somebody. Dudley’s favourite punch-bag was Harry, but he couldn’t often catch him. Harry didn’t look it, but he was very fast. Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry had always been small and ski nny for his age. He looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley’s and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was. Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair and bright-green eyes. He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Sellotape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose. The only thing Harry liked ab out his own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead which was shaped like a bolt of lightning. He had had it as long as he could remember and the first question he could ever remember asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had got it.<|speaker|>Harry Potter<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>2 – The Vanishing Glass Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys’ front d oor; it crept into their living-room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr Dursley had seen that fateful ne ws report about the owls. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece re ally showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different-coloured bobble hats – but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large, blond boy riding hi s first bicycle, on a roundabout at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother. The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house, too. Yet Harry Potter was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. His Aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice which made the first noise of the day. “Up! Get up! Now!” Harry woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again. “Up!” she screeched. Harry heard her walking towards the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the cooker. He rolled on to his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a good one. Th ere had been a flying motorbike in it. He had a funny feeling he’d had the same dream before. His aunt was back outside the door. “Are you up yet?” she demanded.<|quote|>“Nearly,”</|quote|>said Harry. “Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don’t you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy’s birthday.” Harry groaned. “What did you say?” his aunt snapped through the door. “Nothing, nothing …” Dudley’s birthday – how could he have forgotten? Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair under his bed and, after pulling a spider off on e of them, put them on. Harry was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where he slept. When he was dressed he went down the hall into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley’s birthday presents. It looked as though Dudley had got th e new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and th e racing bike. Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Harry, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise – unless of course it involved punching somebody. Dudley’s favourite punch-bag was Harry, but he couldn’t often catch him. Harry didn’t look it, but he was very fast. Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry had always been small and ski nny for his age. He looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley’s and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was. Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair and bright-green eyes. He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Sellotape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose. The only thing Harry liked ab out his own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead which was shaped like a bolt of lightning. He had had it as long as he could remember and the first question he could ever remember asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had got it.<|speaker|> | <|context|>2 – The Vanishing Glass Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys’ front d oor; it crept into their living-room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr Dursley had seen that fateful ne ws report about the owls. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece re ally showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different-coloured bobble hats – but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large, blond boy riding hi s first bicycle, on a roundabout at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother. The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house, too. Yet Harry Potter was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. His Aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice which made the first noise of the day. “Up! Get up! Now!” Harry woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again. “Up!” she screeched. Harry heard her walking towards the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the cooker. He rolled on to his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a good one. Th ere had been a flying motorbike in it. He had a funny feeling he’d had the same dream before. His aunt was back outside the door. “Are you up yet?” she demanded.<|quote|>“Nearly,”</|quote|>said Harry. “Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don’t you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy’s birthday.” Harry groaned. “What did you say?” his aunt snapped through the door. “Nothing, nothing …” Dudley’s birthday – how could he have forgotten? Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair under his bed and, after pulling a spider off on e of them, put them on. Harry was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where he slept. When he was dressed he went down the hall into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley’s birthday presents. It looked as though Dudley had got th e new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and th e racing bike. Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Harry, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise – unless of course it involved punching somebody. Dudley’s favourite punch-bag was Harry, but he couldn’t often catch him. Harry didn’t look it, but he was very fast. Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry had always been small and ski nny for his age. He looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley’s and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was. Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair and bright-green eyes. He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Sellotape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose. The only thing Harry liked ab out his own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead which was shaped like a bolt of lightning. He had had it as long as he could remember and the first question he could ever remember asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had got it.<|speaker|>Harry Potter | <|context|>2 – The Vanishing Glass Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys’ front d oor; it crept into their living-room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr Dursley had seen that fateful ne ws report about the owls. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece re ally showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different-coloured bobble hats – but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large, blond boy riding hi s first bicycle, on a roundabout at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother. The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house, too. Yet Harry Potter was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. His Aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice which made the first noise of the day. “Up! Get up! Now!” Harry woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again. “Up!” she screeched. Harry heard her walking towards the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the cooker. He rolled on to his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a good one. Th ere had been a flying motorbike in it. He had a funny feeling he’d had the same dream before. His aunt was back outside the door. “Are you up yet?” she demanded.<|quote|>“Nearly,”</|quote|>said Harry. “Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don’t you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy’s birthday.” Harry groaned. “What did you say?” his aunt snapped through the door. “Nothing, nothing …” Dudley’s birthday – how could he have forgotten? Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair under his bed and, after pulling a spider off on e of them, put them on. Harry was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where he slept. When he was dressed he went down the hall into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley’s birthday presents. It looked as though Dudley had got th e new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and th e racing bike. Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Harry, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise – unless of course it involved punching somebody. Dudley’s favourite punch-bag was Harry, but he couldn’t often catch him. Harry didn’t look it, but he was very fast. Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry had always been small and ski nny for his age. He looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley’s and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was. Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair and bright-green eyes. He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Sellotape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose. The only thing Harry liked ab out his own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead which was shaped like a bolt of lightning. He had had it as long as he could remember and the first question he could ever remember asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had got it.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>It was Filch speaking to Mrs Norris. Horror-struck, Harry waved madly at the other three to follow him as quickly as possible; they scurried silently towards the door aw ay from Filch’s voice. Neville’s robes had barely whipped round th e corner when they heard Filch enter the trophy room. “They’re in here somewhere,” they heard him mutter, “probably hiding.” “This way!” Harry mouthed to the others and, petrified, they began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armour. They could hear Filch getting nearer. Neville suddenly let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run – he tripped, gr abbed Ron around the waist and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armour. The clanging and crashing were en ough to wake the whole castle.<|quote|>“RUN!”</|quote|>Harry yelled and the four of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see whether Filch was following – they swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor then another, Harry in the lead without any idea where they were or where they were going. They ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near their Charms classroom, which they knew was miles from the trophy room. “I think we’ve lost him,” Harry panted, leaning against the cold wall and wiping his forehead. Neville was bent double, wheezing and spluttering.<|speaker|>Harry Potter<eos> | <bos><|context|>It was Filch speaking to Mrs Norris. Horror-struck, Harry waved madly at the other three to follow him as quickly as possible; they scurried silently towards the door aw ay from Filch’s voice. Neville’s robes had barely whipped round th e corner when they heard Filch enter the trophy room. “They’re in here somewhere,” they heard him mutter, “probably hiding.” “This way!” Harry mouthed to the others and, petrified, they began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armour. They could hear Filch getting nearer. Neville suddenly let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run – he tripped, gr abbed Ron around the waist and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armour. The clanging and crashing were en ough to wake the whole castle.<|quote|>“RUN!”</|quote|>Harry yelled and the four of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see whether Filch was following – they swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor then another, Harry in the lead without any idea where they were or where they were going. They ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near their Charms classroom, which they knew was miles from the trophy room. “I think we’ve lost him,” Harry panted, leaning against the cold wall and wiping his forehead. Neville was bent double, wheezing and spluttering.<|speaker|> | Harry Potter | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>It was Filch speaking to Mrs Norris. Horror-struck, Harry waved madly at the other three to follow him as quickly as possible; they scurried silently towards the door aw ay from Filch’s voice. Neville’s robes had barely whipped round th e corner when they heard Filch enter the trophy room. “They’re in here somewhere,” they heard him mutter, “probably hiding.” “This way!” Harry mouthed to the others and, petrified, they began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armour. They could hear Filch getting nearer. Neville suddenly let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run – he tripped, gr abbed Ron around the waist and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armour. The clanging and crashing were en ough to wake the whole castle.<|quote|>“RUN!”</|quote|>Harry yelled and the four of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see whether Filch was following – they swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor then another, Harry in the lead without any idea where they were or where they were going. They ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near their Charms classroom, which they knew was miles from the trophy room. “I think we’ve lost him,” Harry panted, leaning against the cold wall and wiping his forehead. Neville was bent double, wheezing and spluttering.<|speaker|>Harry Potter<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>It was Filch speaking to Mrs Norris. Horror-struck, Harry waved madly at the other three to follow him as quickly as possible; they scurried silently towards the door aw ay from Filch’s voice. Neville’s robes had barely whipped round th e corner when they heard Filch enter the trophy room. “They’re in here somewhere,” they heard him mutter, “probably hiding.” “This way!” Harry mouthed to the others and, petrified, they began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armour. They could hear Filch getting nearer. Neville suddenly let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run – he tripped, gr abbed Ron around the waist and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armour. The clanging and crashing were en ough to wake the whole castle.<|quote|>“RUN!”</|quote|>Harry yelled and the four of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see whether Filch was following – they swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor then another, Harry in the lead without any idea where they were or where they were going. They ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near their Charms classroom, which they knew was miles from the trophy room. “I think we’ve lost him,” Harry panted, leaning against the cold wall and wiping his forehead. Neville was bent double, wheezing and spluttering.<|speaker|> | <|context|>It was Filch speaking to Mrs Norris. Horror-struck, Harry waved madly at the other three to follow him as quickly as possible; they scurried silently towards the door aw ay from Filch’s voice. Neville’s robes had barely whipped round th e corner when they heard Filch enter the trophy room. “They’re in here somewhere,” they heard him mutter, “probably hiding.” “This way!” Harry mouthed to the others and, petrified, they began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armour. They could hear Filch getting nearer. Neville suddenly let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run – he tripped, gr abbed Ron around the waist and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armour. The clanging and crashing were en ough to wake the whole castle.<|quote|>“RUN!”</|quote|>Harry yelled and the four of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see whether Filch was following – they swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor then another, Harry in the lead without any idea where they were or where they were going. They ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near their Charms classroom, which they knew was miles from the trophy room. “I think we’ve lost him,” Harry panted, leaning against the cold wall and wiping his forehead. Neville was bent double, wheezing and spluttering.<|speaker|>Harry Potter | <|context|>It was Filch speaking to Mrs Norris. Horror-struck, Harry waved madly at the other three to follow him as quickly as possible; they scurried silently towards the door aw ay from Filch’s voice. Neville’s robes had barely whipped round th e corner when they heard Filch enter the trophy room. “They’re in here somewhere,” they heard him mutter, “probably hiding.” “This way!” Harry mouthed to the others and, petrified, they began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armour. They could hear Filch getting nearer. Neville suddenly let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run – he tripped, gr abbed Ron around the waist and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armour. The clanging and crashing were en ough to wake the whole castle.<|quote|>“RUN!”</|quote|>Harry yelled and the four of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see whether Filch was following – they swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor then another, Harry in the lead without any idea where they were or where they were going. They ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near their Charms classroom, which they knew was miles from the trophy room. “I think we’ve lost him,” Harry panted, leaning against the cold wall and wiping his forehead. Neville was bent double, wheezing and spluttering.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn’t wait to get started, but soon realised they weren’t going to be changing th e furniture into animals for a long time. After making a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the cla ss how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione a rare smile. The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defence Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell’s le ssons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he’d met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren’t sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went. Harry was very relieved to find out that he wasn’t miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like him, hadn’t had any idea that they were witches and wizards. There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn’t have much of a head start. Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once. “What have we got today?”<|quote|>Harry asked Ron as he poured sugar on his porridge.</|quote|>“Double Potions with the Slytherins,” said Ron. “Snape’s Head of Slytherin house. They say he always favours them – we’ll be able to see if it’s true.” “Wish McGonagall favoured us,” said Harry. Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor house, but it hadn’t stopped her giving them a huge pile of homework the day before. Just then, the post arrived. Harry had got used to this by now, but it had given him a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners and dropping letters and packages on to their laps. Hedwig hadn’t brought Harry anythi ng so far. She sometimes flew in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school ow ls. This morning, however, she fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note on to Harry’s plate. Harry tore it open at once. Dear Harry, (it said, in a very untidy scrawl) I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig. Hagrid Harry borrowed Ron’s quill, scribbled<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn’t wait to get started, but soon realised they weren’t going to be changing th e furniture into animals for a long time. After making a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the cla ss how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione a rare smile. The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defence Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell’s le ssons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he’d met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren’t sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went. Harry was very relieved to find out that he wasn’t miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like him, hadn’t had any idea that they were witches and wizards. There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn’t have much of a head start. Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once. “What have we got today?”<|quote|>Harry asked Ron as he poured sugar on his porridge.</|quote|>“Double Potions with the Slytherins,” said Ron. “Snape’s Head of Slytherin house. They say he always favours them – we’ll be able to see if it’s true.” “Wish McGonagall favoured us,” said Harry. Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor house, but it hadn’t stopped her giving them a huge pile of homework the day before. Just then, the post arrived. Harry had got used to this by now, but it had given him a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners and dropping letters and packages on to their laps. Hedwig hadn’t brought Harry anythi ng so far. She sometimes flew in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school ow ls. This morning, however, she fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note on to Harry’s plate. Harry tore it open at once. Dear Harry, (it said, in a very untidy scrawl) I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig. Hagrid Harry borrowed Ron’s quill, scribbled<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn’t wait to get started, but soon realised they weren’t going to be changing th e furniture into animals for a long time. After making a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the cla ss how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione a rare smile. The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defence Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell’s le ssons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he’d met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren’t sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went. Harry was very relieved to find out that he wasn’t miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like him, hadn’t had any idea that they were witches and wizards. There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn’t have much of a head start. Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once. “What have we got today?”<|quote|>Harry asked Ron as he poured sugar on his porridge.</|quote|>“Double Potions with the Slytherins,” said Ron. “Snape’s Head of Slytherin house. They say he always favours them – we’ll be able to see if it’s true.” “Wish McGonagall favoured us,” said Harry. Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor house, but it hadn’t stopped her giving them a huge pile of homework the day before. Just then, the post arrived. Harry had got used to this by now, but it had given him a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners and dropping letters and packages on to their laps. Hedwig hadn’t brought Harry anythi ng so far. She sometimes flew in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school ow ls. This morning, however, she fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note on to Harry’s plate. Harry tore it open at once. Dear Harry, (it said, in a very untidy scrawl) I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig. Hagrid Harry borrowed Ron’s quill, scribbled<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn’t wait to get started, but soon realised they weren’t going to be changing th e furniture into animals for a long time. After making a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the cla ss how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione a rare smile. The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defence Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell’s le ssons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he’d met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren’t sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went. Harry was very relieved to find out that he wasn’t miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like him, hadn’t had any idea that they were witches and wizards. There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn’t have much of a head start. Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once. “What have we got today?”<|quote|>Harry asked Ron as he poured sugar on his porridge.</|quote|>“Double Potions with the Slytherins,” said Ron. “Snape’s Head of Slytherin house. They say he always favours them – we’ll be able to see if it’s true.” “Wish McGonagall favoured us,” said Harry. Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor house, but it hadn’t stopped her giving them a huge pile of homework the day before. Just then, the post arrived. Harry had got used to this by now, but it had given him a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners and dropping letters and packages on to their laps. Hedwig hadn’t brought Harry anythi ng so far. She sometimes flew in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school ow ls. This morning, however, she fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note on to Harry’s plate. Harry tore it open at once. Dear Harry, (it said, in a very untidy scrawl) I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig. Hagrid Harry borrowed Ron’s quill, scribbled<|speaker|> | <|context|>Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn’t wait to get started, but soon realised they weren’t going to be changing th e furniture into animals for a long time. After making a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the cla ss how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione a rare smile. The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defence Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell’s le ssons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he’d met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren’t sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went. Harry was very relieved to find out that he wasn’t miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like him, hadn’t had any idea that they were witches and wizards. There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn’t have much of a head start. Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once. “What have we got today?”<|quote|>Harry asked Ron as he poured sugar on his porridge.</|quote|>“Double Potions with the Slytherins,” said Ron. “Snape’s Head of Slytherin house. They say he always favours them – we’ll be able to see if it’s true.” “Wish McGonagall favoured us,” said Harry. Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor house, but it hadn’t stopped her giving them a huge pile of homework the day before. Just then, the post arrived. Harry had got used to this by now, but it had given him a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners and dropping letters and packages on to their laps. Hedwig hadn’t brought Harry anythi ng so far. She sometimes flew in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school ow ls. This morning, however, she fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note on to Harry’s plate. Harry tore it open at once. Dear Harry, (it said, in a very untidy scrawl) I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig. Hagrid Harry borrowed Ron’s quill, scribbled<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn’t wait to get started, but soon realised they weren’t going to be changing th e furniture into animals for a long time. After making a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the cla ss how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione a rare smile. The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defence Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell’s le ssons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he’d met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren’t sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went. Harry was very relieved to find out that he wasn’t miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like him, hadn’t had any idea that they were witches and wizards. There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn’t have much of a head start. Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once. “What have we got today?”<|quote|>Harry asked Ron as he poured sugar on his porridge.</|quote|>“Double Potions with the Slytherins,” said Ron. “Snape’s Head of Slytherin house. They say he always favours them – we’ll be able to see if it’s true.” “Wish McGonagall favoured us,” said Harry. Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor house, but it hadn’t stopped her giving them a huge pile of homework the day before. Just then, the post arrived. Harry had got used to this by now, but it had given him a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners and dropping letters and packages on to their laps. Hedwig hadn’t brought Harry anythi ng so far. She sometimes flew in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school ow ls. This morning, however, she fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note on to Harry’s plate. Harry tore it open at once. Dear Harry, (it said, in a very untidy scrawl) I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig. Hagrid Harry borrowed Ron’s quill, scribbled<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>He sat up and Hagrid’s heavy coat fell off him. The hut was full of sunlight, the storm was over, Hagrid himself was asleep on the collapsed sofa and there was an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak. Harry scrambled to his feet, so happy he felt as though a large balloon was swelling inside him. He went straight to the window and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who didn’t wake up. The owl then fluttered on to the floor and began to attack Hagrid’s coat. “Don’t do that.” Harry tried to wave the owl out of the way, but it snapped its beak fiercely at him and carried on savaging the coat. “Hagrid!” said Harry loudly. “There’s an owl –”<|quote|>“Pay him,”</|quote|>Hagrid grunted into the sofa. “What?” “He wants payin’ fer deliverin’ the paper. Look in the pockets.” Hagrid’s coat seemed to be made of nothing but pockets – bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of string, mint humbugs, tea-bags … finally, Harry pulled out a handful of strange-looking coins. “Give him five Knuts,” said Hagrid sleepily. “Knuts?” “The little bronze ones.” Harry counted out five little bronze coins and the owl held out its leg so he could put the money into a small leather pouch tied to it. Then it flew off through the open window. Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up and stretched.<|speaker|>Hagrid<eos> | <bos><|context|>He sat up and Hagrid’s heavy coat fell off him. The hut was full of sunlight, the storm was over, Hagrid himself was asleep on the collapsed sofa and there was an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak. Harry scrambled to his feet, so happy he felt as though a large balloon was swelling inside him. He went straight to the window and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who didn’t wake up. The owl then fluttered on to the floor and began to attack Hagrid’s coat. “Don’t do that.” Harry tried to wave the owl out of the way, but it snapped its beak fiercely at him and carried on savaging the coat. “Hagrid!” said Harry loudly. “There’s an owl –”<|quote|>“Pay him,”</|quote|>Hagrid grunted into the sofa. “What?” “He wants payin’ fer deliverin’ the paper. Look in the pockets.” Hagrid’s coat seemed to be made of nothing but pockets – bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of string, mint humbugs, tea-bags … finally, Harry pulled out a handful of strange-looking coins. “Give him five Knuts,” said Hagrid sleepily. “Knuts?” “The little bronze ones.” Harry counted out five little bronze coins and the owl held out its leg so he could put the money into a small leather pouch tied to it. Then it flew off through the open window. Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up and stretched.<|speaker|> | Hagrid | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>He sat up and Hagrid’s heavy coat fell off him. The hut was full of sunlight, the storm was over, Hagrid himself was asleep on the collapsed sofa and there was an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak. Harry scrambled to his feet, so happy he felt as though a large balloon was swelling inside him. He went straight to the window and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who didn’t wake up. The owl then fluttered on to the floor and began to attack Hagrid’s coat. “Don’t do that.” Harry tried to wave the owl out of the way, but it snapped its beak fiercely at him and carried on savaging the coat. “Hagrid!” said Harry loudly. “There’s an owl –”<|quote|>“Pay him,”</|quote|>Hagrid grunted into the sofa. “What?” “He wants payin’ fer deliverin’ the paper. Look in the pockets.” Hagrid’s coat seemed to be made of nothing but pockets – bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of string, mint humbugs, tea-bags … finally, Harry pulled out a handful of strange-looking coins. “Give him five Knuts,” said Hagrid sleepily. “Knuts?” “The little bronze ones.” Harry counted out five little bronze coins and the owl held out its leg so he could put the money into a small leather pouch tied to it. Then it flew off through the open window. Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up and stretched.<|speaker|>Hagrid<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>He sat up and Hagrid’s heavy coat fell off him. The hut was full of sunlight, the storm was over, Hagrid himself was asleep on the collapsed sofa and there was an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak. Harry scrambled to his feet, so happy he felt as though a large balloon was swelling inside him. He went straight to the window and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who didn’t wake up. The owl then fluttered on to the floor and began to attack Hagrid’s coat. “Don’t do that.” Harry tried to wave the owl out of the way, but it snapped its beak fiercely at him and carried on savaging the coat. “Hagrid!” said Harry loudly. “There’s an owl –”<|quote|>“Pay him,”</|quote|>Hagrid grunted into the sofa. “What?” “He wants payin’ fer deliverin’ the paper. Look in the pockets.” Hagrid’s coat seemed to be made of nothing but pockets – bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of string, mint humbugs, tea-bags … finally, Harry pulled out a handful of strange-looking coins. “Give him five Knuts,” said Hagrid sleepily. “Knuts?” “The little bronze ones.” Harry counted out five little bronze coins and the owl held out its leg so he could put the money into a small leather pouch tied to it. Then it flew off through the open window. Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up and stretched.<|speaker|> | <|context|>He sat up and Hagrid’s heavy coat fell off him. The hut was full of sunlight, the storm was over, Hagrid himself was asleep on the collapsed sofa and there was an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak. Harry scrambled to his feet, so happy he felt as though a large balloon was swelling inside him. He went straight to the window and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who didn’t wake up. The owl then fluttered on to the floor and began to attack Hagrid’s coat. “Don’t do that.” Harry tried to wave the owl out of the way, but it snapped its beak fiercely at him and carried on savaging the coat. “Hagrid!” said Harry loudly. “There’s an owl –”<|quote|>“Pay him,”</|quote|>Hagrid grunted into the sofa. “What?” “He wants payin’ fer deliverin’ the paper. Look in the pockets.” Hagrid’s coat seemed to be made of nothing but pockets – bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of string, mint humbugs, tea-bags … finally, Harry pulled out a handful of strange-looking coins. “Give him five Knuts,” said Hagrid sleepily. “Knuts?” “The little bronze ones.” Harry counted out five little bronze coins and the owl held out its leg so he could put the money into a small leather pouch tied to it. Then it flew off through the open window. Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up and stretched.<|speaker|>Hagrid | <|context|>He sat up and Hagrid’s heavy coat fell off him. The hut was full of sunlight, the storm was over, Hagrid himself was asleep on the collapsed sofa and there was an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak. Harry scrambled to his feet, so happy he felt as though a large balloon was swelling inside him. He went straight to the window and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who didn’t wake up. The owl then fluttered on to the floor and began to attack Hagrid’s coat. “Don’t do that.” Harry tried to wave the owl out of the way, but it snapped its beak fiercely at him and carried on savaging the coat. “Hagrid!” said Harry loudly. “There’s an owl –”<|quote|>“Pay him,”</|quote|>Hagrid grunted into the sofa. “What?” “He wants payin’ fer deliverin’ the paper. Look in the pockets.” Hagrid’s coat seemed to be made of nothing but pockets – bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of string, mint humbugs, tea-bags … finally, Harry pulled out a handful of strange-looking coins. “Give him five Knuts,” said Hagrid sleepily. “Knuts?” “The little bronze ones.” Harry counted out five little bronze coins and the owl held out its leg so he could put the money into a small leather pouch tied to it. Then it flew off through the open window. Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up and stretched.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>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.<|quote|>“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.</|quote|>“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. “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 Hallowe’en ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an’ – an’ –”<|speaker|>Hagrid<eos> | <bos><|context|>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.<|quote|>“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.</|quote|>“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. “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 Hallowe’en ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an’ – an’ –”<|speaker|> | Hagrid | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>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.<|quote|>“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.</|quote|>“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. “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 Hallowe’en ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an’ – an’ –”<|speaker|>Hagrid<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>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.<|quote|>“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.</|quote|>“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. “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 Hallowe’en ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an’ – an’ –”<|speaker|> | <|context|>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.<|quote|>“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.</|quote|>“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. “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 Hallowe’en ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an’ – an’ –”<|speaker|>Hagrid | <|context|>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.<|quote|>“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.</|quote|>“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. “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 Hallowe’en ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an’ – an’ –”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“But I expect you’ve realised by now what it does?” “It – well – it shows me my family –” “And it showed your friend Ron himself as Head Boy.” “How did you know –?” “I don’t need a cloak to become invisible,” said Dumbledore gently. “Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?” Harry shook his head. “Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?” Harry thought. Then he said slowly ,<|quote|>“It shows us what we want … whatever we want …”</|quote|>“Yes and no,” said Dumbledore quietly. “It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desp erate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the be st of all of them. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they ha ve seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.<|speaker|>Harry Potter<eos> | <bos><|context|>“But I expect you’ve realised by now what it does?” “It – well – it shows me my family –” “And it showed your friend Ron himself as Head Boy.” “How did you know –?” “I don’t need a cloak to become invisible,” said Dumbledore gently. “Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?” Harry shook his head. “Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?” Harry thought. Then he said slowly ,<|quote|>“It shows us what we want … whatever we want …”</|quote|>“Yes and no,” said Dumbledore quietly. “It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desp erate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the be st of all of them. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they ha ve seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.<|speaker|> | Harry Potter | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“But I expect you’ve realised by now what it does?” “It – well – it shows me my family –” “And it showed your friend Ron himself as Head Boy.” “How did you know –?” “I don’t need a cloak to become invisible,” said Dumbledore gently. “Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?” Harry shook his head. “Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?” Harry thought. Then he said slowly ,<|quote|>“It shows us what we want … whatever we want …”</|quote|>“Yes and no,” said Dumbledore quietly. “It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desp erate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the be st of all of them. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they ha ve seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.<|speaker|>Harry Potter<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“But I expect you’ve realised by now what it does?” “It – well – it shows me my family –” “And it showed your friend Ron himself as Head Boy.” “How did you know –?” “I don’t need a cloak to become invisible,” said Dumbledore gently. “Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?” Harry shook his head. “Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?” Harry thought. Then he said slowly ,<|quote|>“It shows us what we want … whatever we want …”</|quote|>“Yes and no,” said Dumbledore quietly. “It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desp erate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the be st of all of them. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they ha ve seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.<|speaker|> | <|context|>“But I expect you’ve realised by now what it does?” “It – well – it shows me my family –” “And it showed your friend Ron himself as Head Boy.” “How did you know –?” “I don’t need a cloak to become invisible,” said Dumbledore gently. “Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?” Harry shook his head. “Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?” Harry thought. Then he said slowly ,<|quote|>“It shows us what we want … whatever we want …”</|quote|>“Yes and no,” said Dumbledore quietly. “It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desp erate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the be st of all of them. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they ha ve seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.<|speaker|>Harry Potter | <|context|>“But I expect you’ve realised by now what it does?” “It – well – it shows me my family –” “And it showed your friend Ron himself as Head Boy.” “How did you know –?” “I don’t need a cloak to become invisible,” said Dumbledore gently. “Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?” Harry shook his head. “Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?” Harry thought. Then he said slowly ,<|quote|>“It shows us what we want … whatever we want …”</|quote|>“Yes and no,” said Dumbledore quietly. “It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desp erate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the be st of all of them. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they ha ve seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>Ducking under Peeves they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor, where they slammed into a door – and it was locked. “This is it!” Ron moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door. “We’re done for! This is the end!” They could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could towards Peeves’s shouts. “Oh, move over,” Hermione snarled. She grabbed Harry’s wand, tapped the lock and whispered, “Alohomora!” The lock clicked and the door swung open – they piled through it, shut it quickly and pressed their ears against it, listening. “Which way did they go, Peeves?” Filch was saying. “Quick, tell me.” “Say ‘please’.”<|quote|>“Don’t mess me about, Peeves, now where did they go? ”</|quote|>“Shan’t say nothing if you don’t say please,” said Peeves in his annoying sing-song voice. “All right – please.” “NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn’t say nothing if you didn’t say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!” And they heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing in rage. “He thinks this door is locked,” Harry whispered. “I think we’ll be OK – get off, Neville!” For Neville had been tugging on the sleeve of Harry’s dressing-gown for the last minute. “What?” Harry turned around – and saw, qu ite clearly, what. For a moment, he was sure he’d walked into a ni ghtmare – this was too much, on top of everything that had happened so far. They weren’t in a room, as he had supposed. They were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they knew why it was forbidden. They were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog which filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; thr ee drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs. It was standing quite still, all si x eyes staring at them, and Harry knew that the only reason they we ren’t already dead was that their sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistakin g what those thunderous growls meant. Harry groped for the doorknob – between Filch and death, he’d take Filch. They fell backwards – Harry slammed the door shut, and they ran, they almost flew, back down the co rridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for them somewhere else because they didn’t see him anywhere, but they hardly cared – all they wanted to do was put as much space as possible between them and that monster. They didn’t stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.<|speaker|>Filch<eos> | <bos><|context|>Ducking under Peeves they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor, where they slammed into a door – and it was locked. “This is it!” Ron moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door. “We’re done for! This is the end!” They could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could towards Peeves’s shouts. “Oh, move over,” Hermione snarled. She grabbed Harry’s wand, tapped the lock and whispered, “Alohomora!” The lock clicked and the door swung open – they piled through it, shut it quickly and pressed their ears against it, listening. “Which way did they go, Peeves?” Filch was saying. “Quick, tell me.” “Say ‘please’.”<|quote|>“Don’t mess me about, Peeves, now where did they go? ”</|quote|>“Shan’t say nothing if you don’t say please,” said Peeves in his annoying sing-song voice. “All right – please.” “NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn’t say nothing if you didn’t say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!” And they heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing in rage. “He thinks this door is locked,” Harry whispered. “I think we’ll be OK – get off, Neville!” For Neville had been tugging on the sleeve of Harry’s dressing-gown for the last minute. “What?” Harry turned around – and saw, qu ite clearly, what. For a moment, he was sure he’d walked into a ni ghtmare – this was too much, on top of everything that had happened so far. They weren’t in a room, as he had supposed. They were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they knew why it was forbidden. They were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog which filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; thr ee drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs. It was standing quite still, all si x eyes staring at them, and Harry knew that the only reason they we ren’t already dead was that their sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistakin g what those thunderous growls meant. Harry groped for the doorknob – between Filch and death, he’d take Filch. They fell backwards – Harry slammed the door shut, and they ran, they almost flew, back down the co rridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for them somewhere else because they didn’t see him anywhere, but they hardly cared – all they wanted to do was put as much space as possible between them and that monster. They didn’t stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.<|speaker|> | Filch | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Ducking under Peeves they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor, where they slammed into a door – and it was locked. “This is it!” Ron moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door. “We’re done for! This is the end!” They could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could towards Peeves’s shouts. “Oh, move over,” Hermione snarled. She grabbed Harry’s wand, tapped the lock and whispered, “Alohomora!” The lock clicked and the door swung open – they piled through it, shut it quickly and pressed their ears against it, listening. “Which way did they go, Peeves?” Filch was saying. “Quick, tell me.” “Say ‘please’.”<|quote|>“Don’t mess me about, Peeves, now where did they go? ”</|quote|>“Shan’t say nothing if you don’t say please,” said Peeves in his annoying sing-song voice. “All right – please.” “NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn’t say nothing if you didn’t say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!” And they heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing in rage. “He thinks this door is locked,” Harry whispered. “I think we’ll be OK – get off, Neville!” For Neville had been tugging on the sleeve of Harry’s dressing-gown for the last minute. “What?” Harry turned around – and saw, qu ite clearly, what. For a moment, he was sure he’d walked into a ni ghtmare – this was too much, on top of everything that had happened so far. They weren’t in a room, as he had supposed. They were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they knew why it was forbidden. They were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog which filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; thr ee drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs. It was standing quite still, all si x eyes staring at them, and Harry knew that the only reason they we ren’t already dead was that their sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistakin g what those thunderous growls meant. Harry groped for the doorknob – between Filch and death, he’d take Filch. They fell backwards – Harry slammed the door shut, and they ran, they almost flew, back down the co rridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for them somewhere else because they didn’t see him anywhere, but they hardly cared – all they wanted to do was put as much space as possible between them and that monster. They didn’t stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.<|speaker|>Filch<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Ducking under Peeves they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor, where they slammed into a door – and it was locked. “This is it!” Ron moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door. “We’re done for! This is the end!” They could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could towards Peeves’s shouts. “Oh, move over,” Hermione snarled. She grabbed Harry’s wand, tapped the lock and whispered, “Alohomora!” The lock clicked and the door swung open – they piled through it, shut it quickly and pressed their ears against it, listening. “Which way did they go, Peeves?” Filch was saying. “Quick, tell me.” “Say ‘please’.”<|quote|>“Don’t mess me about, Peeves, now where did they go? ”</|quote|>“Shan’t say nothing if you don’t say please,” said Peeves in his annoying sing-song voice. “All right – please.” “NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn’t say nothing if you didn’t say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!” And they heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing in rage. “He thinks this door is locked,” Harry whispered. “I think we’ll be OK – get off, Neville!” For Neville had been tugging on the sleeve of Harry’s dressing-gown for the last minute. “What?” Harry turned around – and saw, qu ite clearly, what. For a moment, he was sure he’d walked into a ni ghtmare – this was too much, on top of everything that had happened so far. They weren’t in a room, as he had supposed. They were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they knew why it was forbidden. They were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog which filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; thr ee drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs. It was standing quite still, all si x eyes staring at them, and Harry knew that the only reason they we ren’t already dead was that their sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistakin g what those thunderous growls meant. Harry groped for the doorknob – between Filch and death, he’d take Filch. They fell backwards – Harry slammed the door shut, and they ran, they almost flew, back down the co rridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for them somewhere else because they didn’t see him anywhere, but they hardly cared – all they wanted to do was put as much space as possible between them and that monster. They didn’t stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.<|speaker|> | <|context|>Ducking under Peeves they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor, where they slammed into a door – and it was locked. “This is it!” Ron moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door. “We’re done for! This is the end!” They could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could towards Peeves’s shouts. “Oh, move over,” Hermione snarled. She grabbed Harry’s wand, tapped the lock and whispered, “Alohomora!” The lock clicked and the door swung open – they piled through it, shut it quickly and pressed their ears against it, listening. “Which way did they go, Peeves?” Filch was saying. “Quick, tell me.” “Say ‘please’.”<|quote|>“Don’t mess me about, Peeves, now where did they go? ”</|quote|>“Shan’t say nothing if you don’t say please,” said Peeves in his annoying sing-song voice. “All right – please.” “NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn’t say nothing if you didn’t say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!” And they heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing in rage. “He thinks this door is locked,” Harry whispered. “I think we’ll be OK – get off, Neville!” For Neville had been tugging on the sleeve of Harry’s dressing-gown for the last minute. “What?” Harry turned around – and saw, qu ite clearly, what. For a moment, he was sure he’d walked into a ni ghtmare – this was too much, on top of everything that had happened so far. They weren’t in a room, as he had supposed. They were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they knew why it was forbidden. They were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog which filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; thr ee drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs. It was standing quite still, all si x eyes staring at them, and Harry knew that the only reason they we ren’t already dead was that their sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistakin g what those thunderous growls meant. Harry groped for the doorknob – between Filch and death, he’d take Filch. They fell backwards – Harry slammed the door shut, and they ran, they almost flew, back down the co rridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for them somewhere else because they didn’t see him anywhere, but they hardly cared – all they wanted to do was put as much space as possible between them and that monster. They didn’t stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.<|speaker|>Filch | <|context|>Ducking under Peeves they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor, where they slammed into a door – and it was locked. “This is it!” Ron moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door. “We’re done for! This is the end!” They could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could towards Peeves’s shouts. “Oh, move over,” Hermione snarled. She grabbed Harry’s wand, tapped the lock and whispered, “Alohomora!” The lock clicked and the door swung open – they piled through it, shut it quickly and pressed their ears against it, listening. “Which way did they go, Peeves?” Filch was saying. “Quick, tell me.” “Say ‘please’.”<|quote|>“Don’t mess me about, Peeves, now where did they go? ”</|quote|>“Shan’t say nothing if you don’t say please,” said Peeves in his annoying sing-song voice. “All right – please.” “NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn’t say nothing if you didn’t say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!” And they heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing in rage. “He thinks this door is locked,” Harry whispered. “I think we’ll be OK – get off, Neville!” For Neville had been tugging on the sleeve of Harry’s dressing-gown for the last minute. “What?” Harry turned around – and saw, qu ite clearly, what. For a moment, he was sure he’d walked into a ni ghtmare – this was too much, on top of everything that had happened so far. They weren’t in a room, as he had supposed. They were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now they knew why it was forbidden. They were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog which filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; thr ee drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs. It was standing quite still, all si x eyes staring at them, and Harry knew that the only reason they we ren’t already dead was that their sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistakin g what those thunderous growls meant. Harry groped for the doorknob – between Filch and death, he’d take Filch. They fell backwards – Harry slammed the door shut, and they ran, they almost flew, back down the co rridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for them somewhere else because they didn’t see him anywhere, but they hardly cared – all they wanted to do was put as much space as possible between them and that monster. They didn’t stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“There’s only enough there for one of us,” he said. “That’s hardly one swallow.” They looked at each other. “Which one will get you back through the purple flames?” Hermione pointed at a rounded bottle at the right end of the line. “You drink that,” said Harry. “No, listen – get back and get Ron – grab brooms from the flying-key room, they’ll get you out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy – go stra ight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, we need him. I migh t be able to hold Snape off for a while, but I’m no match for him really.”<|quote|>“But Harry – what if You-Know-Who’s with him?”</|quote|>“Well – I was lucky once, wasn’t I?” said Harry, pointing at his scar. “I might get lucky again.” Hermione’s lip trembled and sh e suddenly dashed at Harry and threw her arms around him. “Hermione!” “Harry – you’re a great wizard, you know.” “I’m not as good as you,” said Harry, very embarrassed, as she let go of him. “Me!” said Hermione. “Books! And cleverness! There are more important things – friendship and bravery and – oh Harry – be careful!” “You drink first,” said Harry. “You are sure which is which, aren’t you?” “Positive,” said Hermione. She t ook a long drink from the round bottle at the end and shuddered. “It’s not poison?” said Harry anxiously. “No – but it’s like ice.”<|speaker|>Hermione Granger<eos> | <bos><|context|>“There’s only enough there for one of us,” he said. “That’s hardly one swallow.” They looked at each other. “Which one will get you back through the purple flames?” Hermione pointed at a rounded bottle at the right end of the line. “You drink that,” said Harry. “No, listen – get back and get Ron – grab brooms from the flying-key room, they’ll get you out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy – go stra ight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, we need him. I migh t be able to hold Snape off for a while, but I’m no match for him really.”<|quote|>“But Harry – what if You-Know-Who’s with him?”</|quote|>“Well – I was lucky once, wasn’t I?” said Harry, pointing at his scar. “I might get lucky again.” Hermione’s lip trembled and sh e suddenly dashed at Harry and threw her arms around him. “Hermione!” “Harry – you’re a great wizard, you know.” “I’m not as good as you,” said Harry, very embarrassed, as she let go of him. “Me!” said Hermione. “Books! And cleverness! There are more important things – friendship and bravery and – oh Harry – be careful!” “You drink first,” said Harry. “You are sure which is which, aren’t you?” “Positive,” said Hermione. She t ook a long drink from the round bottle at the end and shuddered. “It’s not poison?” said Harry anxiously. “No – but it’s like ice.”<|speaker|> | Hermione Granger | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“There’s only enough there for one of us,” he said. “That’s hardly one swallow.” They looked at each other. “Which one will get you back through the purple flames?” Hermione pointed at a rounded bottle at the right end of the line. “You drink that,” said Harry. “No, listen – get back and get Ron – grab brooms from the flying-key room, they’ll get you out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy – go stra ight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, we need him. I migh t be able to hold Snape off for a while, but I’m no match for him really.”<|quote|>“But Harry – what if You-Know-Who’s with him?”</|quote|>“Well – I was lucky once, wasn’t I?” said Harry, pointing at his scar. “I might get lucky again.” Hermione’s lip trembled and sh e suddenly dashed at Harry and threw her arms around him. “Hermione!” “Harry – you’re a great wizard, you know.” “I’m not as good as you,” said Harry, very embarrassed, as she let go of him. “Me!” said Hermione. “Books! And cleverness! There are more important things – friendship and bravery and – oh Harry – be careful!” “You drink first,” said Harry. “You are sure which is which, aren’t you?” “Positive,” said Hermione. She t ook a long drink from the round bottle at the end and shuddered. “It’s not poison?” said Harry anxiously. “No – but it’s like ice.”<|speaker|>Hermione Granger<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“There’s only enough there for one of us,” he said. “That’s hardly one swallow.” They looked at each other. “Which one will get you back through the purple flames?” Hermione pointed at a rounded bottle at the right end of the line. “You drink that,” said Harry. “No, listen – get back and get Ron – grab brooms from the flying-key room, they’ll get you out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy – go stra ight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, we need him. I migh t be able to hold Snape off for a while, but I’m no match for him really.”<|quote|>“But Harry – what if You-Know-Who’s with him?”</|quote|>“Well – I was lucky once, wasn’t I?” said Harry, pointing at his scar. “I might get lucky again.” Hermione’s lip trembled and sh e suddenly dashed at Harry and threw her arms around him. “Hermione!” “Harry – you’re a great wizard, you know.” “I’m not as good as you,” said Harry, very embarrassed, as she let go of him. “Me!” said Hermione. “Books! And cleverness! There are more important things – friendship and bravery and – oh Harry – be careful!” “You drink first,” said Harry. “You are sure which is which, aren’t you?” “Positive,” said Hermione. She t ook a long drink from the round bottle at the end and shuddered. “It’s not poison?” said Harry anxiously. “No – but it’s like ice.”<|speaker|> | <|context|>“There’s only enough there for one of us,” he said. “That’s hardly one swallow.” They looked at each other. “Which one will get you back through the purple flames?” Hermione pointed at a rounded bottle at the right end of the line. “You drink that,” said Harry. “No, listen – get back and get Ron – grab brooms from the flying-key room, they’ll get you out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy – go stra ight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, we need him. I migh t be able to hold Snape off for a while, but I’m no match for him really.”<|quote|>“But Harry – what if You-Know-Who’s with him?”</|quote|>“Well – I was lucky once, wasn’t I?” said Harry, pointing at his scar. “I might get lucky again.” Hermione’s lip trembled and sh e suddenly dashed at Harry and threw her arms around him. “Hermione!” “Harry – you’re a great wizard, you know.” “I’m not as good as you,” said Harry, very embarrassed, as she let go of him. “Me!” said Hermione. “Books! And cleverness! There are more important things – friendship and bravery and – oh Harry – be careful!” “You drink first,” said Harry. “You are sure which is which, aren’t you?” “Positive,” said Hermione. She t ook a long drink from the round bottle at the end and shuddered. “It’s not poison?” said Harry anxiously. “No – but it’s like ice.”<|speaker|>Hermione Granger | <|context|>“There’s only enough there for one of us,” he said. “That’s hardly one swallow.” They looked at each other. “Which one will get you back through the purple flames?” Hermione pointed at a rounded bottle at the right end of the line. “You drink that,” said Harry. “No, listen – get back and get Ron – grab brooms from the flying-key room, they’ll get you out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy – go stra ight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, we need him. I migh t be able to hold Snape off for a while, but I’m no match for him really.”<|quote|>“But Harry – what if You-Know-Who’s with him?”</|quote|>“Well – I was lucky once, wasn’t I?” said Harry, pointing at his scar. “I might get lucky again.” Hermione’s lip trembled and sh e suddenly dashed at Harry and threw her arms around him. “Hermione!” “Harry – you’re a great wizard, you know.” “I’m not as good as you,” said Harry, very embarrassed, as she let go of him. “Me!” said Hermione. “Books! And cleverness! There are more important things – friendship and bravery and – oh Harry – be careful!” “You drink first,” said Harry. “You are sure which is which, aren’t you?” “Positive,” said Hermione. She t ook a long drink from the round bottle at the end and shuddered. “It’s not poison?” said Harry anxiously. “No – but it’s like ice.”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>5 – Diagon Alley Harry woke early the next morning. Although he could tell it was daylight, he kept his eyes shut tight. “It was a dream,” he told himself firmly. “I dreamed a giant called Hagrid came to tell me I was going to a school for wizards. When I open my eyes I’ll be at home in my cupboard.” There was suddenly a loud tapping noise. “And there’s Aunt Petunia knocki ng on the door,” Harry thought, his heart sinking. But he still didn’t open his eyes. It had been such a good dream. Tap. Tap. Tap. “All right,” Harry mumbled,<|quote|>“I’m getting up.”</|quote|>He sat up and Hagrid’s heavy coat fell off him. The hut was full of sunlight, the storm was over, Hagrid himself was asleep on the collapsed sofa and there was an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak. Harry scrambled to his feet, so happy he felt as though a large balloon was swelling inside him. He went straight to the window and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who didn’t wake up. The owl then fluttered on to the floor and began to attack Hagrid’s coat.<|speaker|>Harry Potter<eos> | <bos><|context|>5 – Diagon Alley Harry woke early the next morning. Although he could tell it was daylight, he kept his eyes shut tight. “It was a dream,” he told himself firmly. “I dreamed a giant called Hagrid came to tell me I was going to a school for wizards. When I open my eyes I’ll be at home in my cupboard.” There was suddenly a loud tapping noise. “And there’s Aunt Petunia knocki ng on the door,” Harry thought, his heart sinking. But he still didn’t open his eyes. It had been such a good dream. Tap. Tap. Tap. “All right,” Harry mumbled,<|quote|>“I’m getting up.”</|quote|>He sat up and Hagrid’s heavy coat fell off him. The hut was full of sunlight, the storm was over, Hagrid himself was asleep on the collapsed sofa and there was an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak. Harry scrambled to his feet, so happy he felt as though a large balloon was swelling inside him. He went straight to the window and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who didn’t wake up. The owl then fluttered on to the floor and began to attack Hagrid’s coat.<|speaker|> | Harry Potter | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>5 – Diagon Alley Harry woke early the next morning. Although he could tell it was daylight, he kept his eyes shut tight. “It was a dream,” he told himself firmly. “I dreamed a giant called Hagrid came to tell me I was going to a school for wizards. When I open my eyes I’ll be at home in my cupboard.” There was suddenly a loud tapping noise. “And there’s Aunt Petunia knocki ng on the door,” Harry thought, his heart sinking. But he still didn’t open his eyes. It had been such a good dream. Tap. Tap. Tap. “All right,” Harry mumbled,<|quote|>“I’m getting up.”</|quote|>He sat up and Hagrid’s heavy coat fell off him. The hut was full of sunlight, the storm was over, Hagrid himself was asleep on the collapsed sofa and there was an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak. Harry scrambled to his feet, so happy he felt as though a large balloon was swelling inside him. He went straight to the window and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who didn’t wake up. The owl then fluttered on to the floor and began to attack Hagrid’s coat.<|speaker|>Harry Potter<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>5 – Diagon Alley Harry woke early the next morning. Although he could tell it was daylight, he kept his eyes shut tight. “It was a dream,” he told himself firmly. “I dreamed a giant called Hagrid came to tell me I was going to a school for wizards. When I open my eyes I’ll be at home in my cupboard.” There was suddenly a loud tapping noise. “And there’s Aunt Petunia knocki ng on the door,” Harry thought, his heart sinking. But he still didn’t open his eyes. It had been such a good dream. Tap. Tap. Tap. “All right,” Harry mumbled,<|quote|>“I’m getting up.”</|quote|>He sat up and Hagrid’s heavy coat fell off him. The hut was full of sunlight, the storm was over, Hagrid himself was asleep on the collapsed sofa and there was an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak. Harry scrambled to his feet, so happy he felt as though a large balloon was swelling inside him. He went straight to the window and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who didn’t wake up. The owl then fluttered on to the floor and began to attack Hagrid’s coat.<|speaker|> | <|context|>5 – Diagon Alley Harry woke early the next morning. Although he could tell it was daylight, he kept his eyes shut tight. “It was a dream,” he told himself firmly. “I dreamed a giant called Hagrid came to tell me I was going to a school for wizards. When I open my eyes I’ll be at home in my cupboard.” There was suddenly a loud tapping noise. “And there’s Aunt Petunia knocki ng on the door,” Harry thought, his heart sinking. But he still didn’t open his eyes. It had been such a good dream. Tap. Tap. Tap. “All right,” Harry mumbled,<|quote|>“I’m getting up.”</|quote|>He sat up and Hagrid’s heavy coat fell off him. The hut was full of sunlight, the storm was over, Hagrid himself was asleep on the collapsed sofa and there was an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak. Harry scrambled to his feet, so happy he felt as though a large balloon was swelling inside him. He went straight to the window and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who didn’t wake up. The owl then fluttered on to the floor and began to attack Hagrid’s coat.<|speaker|>Harry Potter | <|context|>5 – Diagon Alley Harry woke early the next morning. Although he could tell it was daylight, he kept his eyes shut tight. “It was a dream,” he told himself firmly. “I dreamed a giant called Hagrid came to tell me I was going to a school for wizards. When I open my eyes I’ll be at home in my cupboard.” There was suddenly a loud tapping noise. “And there’s Aunt Petunia knocki ng on the door,” Harry thought, his heart sinking. But he still didn’t open his eyes. It had been such a good dream. Tap. Tap. Tap. “All right,” Harry mumbled,<|quote|>“I’m getting up.”</|quote|>He sat up and Hagrid’s heavy coat fell off him. The hut was full of sunlight, the storm was over, Hagrid himself was asleep on the collapsed sofa and there was an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak. Harry scrambled to his feet, so happy he felt as though a large balloon was swelling inside him. He went straight to the window and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who didn’t wake up. The owl then fluttered on to the floor and began to attack Hagrid’s coat.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>They marched off across the dark grounds. Neville kept sniffing. Harry wondered what their punishment was going to be. It must be something really horrible, or Filch wouldn’t be sounding so delighted. The moon was bright, but clouds scudding across it kept throwing them into darkness. Ahead, Harry could see the lighted windows of Hagrid’s hut. Then they heard a distant shout. “Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started.” Harry’s heart rose; if they were going to be working with Hagrid it wouldn’t be so bad. His relief must have showed in his face, because Filch said, “I suppose you think you’ ll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, boy – it’s in to the Forest you’re going and I’m much mistaken if you’ll all come out in one piece.” At this, Neville let out a little moan and Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks.<|quote|>“The Forest?”</|quote|>he repeated, and he didn’t sound quite as cool as usual. “We can’t go in there at nigh t – there’s all sorts of things in there – werewolves, I heard.” Neville clutched the sleeve of Harry’s robe and made a choking noise. “That’s your lookout, isn’t it?” said Filch, his voice cracking with glee. “Should’ve thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn’t you?” Hagrid came striding towards them out of the dark, Fang at his heel. He was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder. “Abou’ time,” he said. “I bin waitin’ fer half an hour already. All right, Harry, Hermione?”<|speaker|>Draco Malfoy<eos> | <bos><|context|>They marched off across the dark grounds. Neville kept sniffing. Harry wondered what their punishment was going to be. It must be something really horrible, or Filch wouldn’t be sounding so delighted. The moon was bright, but clouds scudding across it kept throwing them into darkness. Ahead, Harry could see the lighted windows of Hagrid’s hut. Then they heard a distant shout. “Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started.” Harry’s heart rose; if they were going to be working with Hagrid it wouldn’t be so bad. His relief must have showed in his face, because Filch said, “I suppose you think you’ ll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, boy – it’s in to the Forest you’re going and I’m much mistaken if you’ll all come out in one piece.” At this, Neville let out a little moan and Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks.<|quote|>“The Forest?”</|quote|>he repeated, and he didn’t sound quite as cool as usual. “We can’t go in there at nigh t – there’s all sorts of things in there – werewolves, I heard.” Neville clutched the sleeve of Harry’s robe and made a choking noise. “That’s your lookout, isn’t it?” said Filch, his voice cracking with glee. “Should’ve thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn’t you?” Hagrid came striding towards them out of the dark, Fang at his heel. He was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder. “Abou’ time,” he said. “I bin waitin’ fer half an hour already. All right, Harry, Hermione?”<|speaker|> | Draco Malfoy | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>They marched off across the dark grounds. Neville kept sniffing. Harry wondered what their punishment was going to be. It must be something really horrible, or Filch wouldn’t be sounding so delighted. The moon was bright, but clouds scudding across it kept throwing them into darkness. Ahead, Harry could see the lighted windows of Hagrid’s hut. Then they heard a distant shout. “Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started.” Harry’s heart rose; if they were going to be working with Hagrid it wouldn’t be so bad. His relief must have showed in his face, because Filch said, “I suppose you think you’ ll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, boy – it’s in to the Forest you’re going and I’m much mistaken if you’ll all come out in one piece.” At this, Neville let out a little moan and Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks.<|quote|>“The Forest?”</|quote|>he repeated, and he didn’t sound quite as cool as usual. “We can’t go in there at nigh t – there’s all sorts of things in there – werewolves, I heard.” Neville clutched the sleeve of Harry’s robe and made a choking noise. “That’s your lookout, isn’t it?” said Filch, his voice cracking with glee. “Should’ve thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn’t you?” Hagrid came striding towards them out of the dark, Fang at his heel. He was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder. “Abou’ time,” he said. “I bin waitin’ fer half an hour already. All right, Harry, Hermione?”<|speaker|>Draco Malfoy<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>They marched off across the dark grounds. Neville kept sniffing. Harry wondered what their punishment was going to be. It must be something really horrible, or Filch wouldn’t be sounding so delighted. The moon was bright, but clouds scudding across it kept throwing them into darkness. Ahead, Harry could see the lighted windows of Hagrid’s hut. Then they heard a distant shout. “Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started.” Harry’s heart rose; if they were going to be working with Hagrid it wouldn’t be so bad. His relief must have showed in his face, because Filch said, “I suppose you think you’ ll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, boy – it’s in to the Forest you’re going and I’m much mistaken if you’ll all come out in one piece.” At this, Neville let out a little moan and Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks.<|quote|>“The Forest?”</|quote|>he repeated, and he didn’t sound quite as cool as usual. “We can’t go in there at nigh t – there’s all sorts of things in there – werewolves, I heard.” Neville clutched the sleeve of Harry’s robe and made a choking noise. “That’s your lookout, isn’t it?” said Filch, his voice cracking with glee. “Should’ve thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn’t you?” Hagrid came striding towards them out of the dark, Fang at his heel. He was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder. “Abou’ time,” he said. “I bin waitin’ fer half an hour already. All right, Harry, Hermione?”<|speaker|> | <|context|>They marched off across the dark grounds. Neville kept sniffing. Harry wondered what their punishment was going to be. It must be something really horrible, or Filch wouldn’t be sounding so delighted. The moon was bright, but clouds scudding across it kept throwing them into darkness. Ahead, Harry could see the lighted windows of Hagrid’s hut. Then they heard a distant shout. “Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started.” Harry’s heart rose; if they were going to be working with Hagrid it wouldn’t be so bad. His relief must have showed in his face, because Filch said, “I suppose you think you’ ll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, boy – it’s in to the Forest you’re going and I’m much mistaken if you’ll all come out in one piece.” At this, Neville let out a little moan and Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks.<|quote|>“The Forest?”</|quote|>he repeated, and he didn’t sound quite as cool as usual. “We can’t go in there at nigh t – there’s all sorts of things in there – werewolves, I heard.” Neville clutched the sleeve of Harry’s robe and made a choking noise. “That’s your lookout, isn’t it?” said Filch, his voice cracking with glee. “Should’ve thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn’t you?” Hagrid came striding towards them out of the dark, Fang at his heel. He was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder. “Abou’ time,” he said. “I bin waitin’ fer half an hour already. All right, Harry, Hermione?”<|speaker|>Draco Malfoy | <|context|>They marched off across the dark grounds. Neville kept sniffing. Harry wondered what their punishment was going to be. It must be something really horrible, or Filch wouldn’t be sounding so delighted. The moon was bright, but clouds scudding across it kept throwing them into darkness. Ahead, Harry could see the lighted windows of Hagrid’s hut. Then they heard a distant shout. “Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started.” Harry’s heart rose; if they were going to be working with Hagrid it wouldn’t be so bad. His relief must have showed in his face, because Filch said, “I suppose you think you’ ll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, boy – it’s in to the Forest you’re going and I’m much mistaken if you’ll all come out in one piece.” At this, Neville let out a little moan and Malfoy stopped dead in his tracks.<|quote|>“The Forest?”</|quote|>he repeated, and he didn’t sound quite as cool as usual. “We can’t go in there at nigh t – there’s all sorts of things in there – werewolves, I heard.” Neville clutched the sleeve of Harry’s robe and made a choking noise. “That’s your lookout, isn’t it?” said Filch, his voice cracking with glee. “Should’ve thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn’t you?” Hagrid came striding towards them out of the dark, Fang at his heel. He was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder. “Abou’ time,” he said. “I bin waitin’ fer half an hour already. All right, Harry, Hermione?”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>Hagrid grunted into the sofa. “What?” “He wants payin’ fer deliverin’ the paper. Look in the pockets.” Hagrid’s coat seemed to be made of nothing but pockets – bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of string, mint humbugs, tea-bags … finally, Harry pulled out a handful of strange-looking coins. “Give him five Knuts,” said Hagrid sleepily. “Knuts?” “The little bronze ones.” Harry counted out five little bronze coins and the owl held out its leg so he could put the money into a small leather pouch tied to it. Then it flew off through the open window. Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up and stretched. “Best be off, Harry, lots ter do today, gotta get up ter London an’ buy all yer stuff fer school.”<|quote|>Harry was turning over the wizard coins and looking at them. He had just thought of something which made him feel as though the happy balloon inside him had got a puncture.</|quote|>“Um – Hagrid?” “Mm?” said Hagrid, who was pulling on his huge boots. “I haven’t got any money – and you heard Uncle Vernon last night – he won’t pay for me to go and learn magic.” “Don’t worry about that,” said Ha grid, standing up and scratching his head. “D’yeh think yer parents didn’t leave yeh anything?” “But if their house was destroyed –” “They didn’ keep their gold in the ho use, boy! Nah, first stop fer us is Gringotts. Wizards’ bank. Have a sausage, they’re not bad cold – an’ I wouldn’ say no teh a bit o’ yer birthday cake, neither.”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>Hagrid grunted into the sofa. “What?” “He wants payin’ fer deliverin’ the paper. Look in the pockets.” Hagrid’s coat seemed to be made of nothing but pockets – bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of string, mint humbugs, tea-bags … finally, Harry pulled out a handful of strange-looking coins. “Give him five Knuts,” said Hagrid sleepily. “Knuts?” “The little bronze ones.” Harry counted out five little bronze coins and the owl held out its leg so he could put the money into a small leather pouch tied to it. Then it flew off through the open window. Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up and stretched. “Best be off, Harry, lots ter do today, gotta get up ter London an’ buy all yer stuff fer school.”<|quote|>Harry was turning over the wizard coins and looking at them. He had just thought of something which made him feel as though the happy balloon inside him had got a puncture.</|quote|>“Um – Hagrid?” “Mm?” said Hagrid, who was pulling on his huge boots. “I haven’t got any money – and you heard Uncle Vernon last night – he won’t pay for me to go and learn magic.” “Don’t worry about that,” said Ha grid, standing up and scratching his head. “D’yeh think yer parents didn’t leave yeh anything?” “But if their house was destroyed –” “They didn’ keep their gold in the ho use, boy! Nah, first stop fer us is Gringotts. Wizards’ bank. Have a sausage, they’re not bad cold – an’ I wouldn’ say no teh a bit o’ yer birthday cake, neither.”<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Hagrid grunted into the sofa. “What?” “He wants payin’ fer deliverin’ the paper. Look in the pockets.” Hagrid’s coat seemed to be made of nothing but pockets – bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of string, mint humbugs, tea-bags … finally, Harry pulled out a handful of strange-looking coins. “Give him five Knuts,” said Hagrid sleepily. “Knuts?” “The little bronze ones.” Harry counted out five little bronze coins and the owl held out its leg so he could put the money into a small leather pouch tied to it. Then it flew off through the open window. Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up and stretched. “Best be off, Harry, lots ter do today, gotta get up ter London an’ buy all yer stuff fer school.”<|quote|>Harry was turning over the wizard coins and looking at them. He had just thought of something which made him feel as though the happy balloon inside him had got a puncture.</|quote|>“Um – Hagrid?” “Mm?” said Hagrid, who was pulling on his huge boots. “I haven’t got any money – and you heard Uncle Vernon last night – he won’t pay for me to go and learn magic.” “Don’t worry about that,” said Ha grid, standing up and scratching his head. “D’yeh think yer parents didn’t leave yeh anything?” “But if their house was destroyed –” “They didn’ keep their gold in the ho use, boy! Nah, first stop fer us is Gringotts. Wizards’ bank. Have a sausage, they’re not bad cold – an’ I wouldn’ say no teh a bit o’ yer birthday cake, neither.”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Hagrid grunted into the sofa. “What?” “He wants payin’ fer deliverin’ the paper. Look in the pockets.” Hagrid’s coat seemed to be made of nothing but pockets – bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of string, mint humbugs, tea-bags … finally, Harry pulled out a handful of strange-looking coins. “Give him five Knuts,” said Hagrid sleepily. “Knuts?” “The little bronze ones.” Harry counted out five little bronze coins and the owl held out its leg so he could put the money into a small leather pouch tied to it. Then it flew off through the open window. Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up and stretched. “Best be off, Harry, lots ter do today, gotta get up ter London an’ buy all yer stuff fer school.”<|quote|>Harry was turning over the wizard coins and looking at them. He had just thought of something which made him feel as though the happy balloon inside him had got a puncture.</|quote|>“Um – Hagrid?” “Mm?” said Hagrid, who was pulling on his huge boots. “I haven’t got any money – and you heard Uncle Vernon last night – he won’t pay for me to go and learn magic.” “Don’t worry about that,” said Ha grid, standing up and scratching his head. “D’yeh think yer parents didn’t leave yeh anything?” “But if their house was destroyed –” “They didn’ keep their gold in the ho use, boy! Nah, first stop fer us is Gringotts. Wizards’ bank. Have a sausage, they’re not bad cold – an’ I wouldn’ say no teh a bit o’ yer birthday cake, neither.”<|speaker|> | <|context|>Hagrid grunted into the sofa. “What?” “He wants payin’ fer deliverin’ the paper. Look in the pockets.” Hagrid’s coat seemed to be made of nothing but pockets – bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of string, mint humbugs, tea-bags … finally, Harry pulled out a handful of strange-looking coins. “Give him five Knuts,” said Hagrid sleepily. “Knuts?” “The little bronze ones.” Harry counted out five little bronze coins and the owl held out its leg so he could put the money into a small leather pouch tied to it. Then it flew off through the open window. Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up and stretched. “Best be off, Harry, lots ter do today, gotta get up ter London an’ buy all yer stuff fer school.”<|quote|>Harry was turning over the wizard coins and looking at them. He had just thought of something which made him feel as though the happy balloon inside him had got a puncture.</|quote|>“Um – Hagrid?” “Mm?” said Hagrid, who was pulling on his huge boots. “I haven’t got any money – and you heard Uncle Vernon last night – he won’t pay for me to go and learn magic.” “Don’t worry about that,” said Ha grid, standing up and scratching his head. “D’yeh think yer parents didn’t leave yeh anything?” “But if their house was destroyed –” “They didn’ keep their gold in the ho use, boy! Nah, first stop fer us is Gringotts. Wizards’ bank. Have a sausage, they’re not bad cold – an’ I wouldn’ say no teh a bit o’ yer birthday cake, neither.”<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>Hagrid grunted into the sofa. “What?” “He wants payin’ fer deliverin’ the paper. Look in the pockets.” Hagrid’s coat seemed to be made of nothing but pockets – bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of string, mint humbugs, tea-bags … finally, Harry pulled out a handful of strange-looking coins. “Give him five Knuts,” said Hagrid sleepily. “Knuts?” “The little bronze ones.” Harry counted out five little bronze coins and the owl held out its leg so he could put the money into a small leather pouch tied to it. Then it flew off through the open window. Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up and stretched. “Best be off, Harry, lots ter do today, gotta get up ter London an’ buy all yer stuff fer school.”<|quote|>Harry was turning over the wizard coins and looking at them. He had just thought of something which made him feel as though the happy balloon inside him had got a puncture.</|quote|>“Um – Hagrid?” “Mm?” said Hagrid, who was pulling on his huge boots. “I haven’t got any money – and you heard Uncle Vernon last night – he won’t pay for me to go and learn magic.” “Don’t worry about that,” said Ha grid, standing up and scratching his head. “D’yeh think yer parents didn’t leave yeh anything?” “But if their house was destroyed –” “They didn’ keep their gold in the ho use, boy! Nah, first stop fer us is Gringotts. Wizards’ bank. Have a sausage, they’re not bad cold – an’ I wouldn’ say no teh a bit o’ yer birthday cake, neither.”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>They pulled on their dressing-gow ns, picked up their wands and crept across the tower room, down th e spiral staircase and into the Gryffindor common room. A few embers were still glowing in the fireplace, turning all the armchair s into hunched black shadows. They had almost reached the portrait hole when a voice spoke from the chair nearest them: “I can’t believe you’re going to do this, Harry.” A lamp flickered on. It was Hermione Granger, wearing a pink dressing-gown and a frown. “You!” said Ron furiously. “Go back to bed!” “I almost told your brother,” Hermione snapped.<|quote|>“Percy – he’s a Prefect, he’d put a stop to this.”</|quote|>Harry couldn’t believe anyone could be so interfering. “Come on,” he said to Ron. He pu shed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and climbed through the hole. Hermione wasn’t going to give up that easily. She followed Ron through the portrait hole, hissing at them like an angry goose. “Don’t you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don’t want Slytherin to win the House Cup and you’ll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells.” “Go away.” “All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you’re on the train home tomorrow, you’re so –”<|speaker|>Hermione Granger<eos> | <bos><|context|>They pulled on their dressing-gow ns, picked up their wands and crept across the tower room, down th e spiral staircase and into the Gryffindor common room. A few embers were still glowing in the fireplace, turning all the armchair s into hunched black shadows. They had almost reached the portrait hole when a voice spoke from the chair nearest them: “I can’t believe you’re going to do this, Harry.” A lamp flickered on. It was Hermione Granger, wearing a pink dressing-gown and a frown. “You!” said Ron furiously. “Go back to bed!” “I almost told your brother,” Hermione snapped.<|quote|>“Percy – he’s a Prefect, he’d put a stop to this.”</|quote|>Harry couldn’t believe anyone could be so interfering. “Come on,” he said to Ron. He pu shed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and climbed through the hole. Hermione wasn’t going to give up that easily. She followed Ron through the portrait hole, hissing at them like an angry goose. “Don’t you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don’t want Slytherin to win the House Cup and you’ll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells.” “Go away.” “All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you’re on the train home tomorrow, you’re so –”<|speaker|> | Hermione Granger | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>They pulled on their dressing-gow ns, picked up their wands and crept across the tower room, down th e spiral staircase and into the Gryffindor common room. A few embers were still glowing in the fireplace, turning all the armchair s into hunched black shadows. They had almost reached the portrait hole when a voice spoke from the chair nearest them: “I can’t believe you’re going to do this, Harry.” A lamp flickered on. It was Hermione Granger, wearing a pink dressing-gown and a frown. “You!” said Ron furiously. “Go back to bed!” “I almost told your brother,” Hermione snapped.<|quote|>“Percy – he’s a Prefect, he’d put a stop to this.”</|quote|>Harry couldn’t believe anyone could be so interfering. “Come on,” he said to Ron. He pu shed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and climbed through the hole. Hermione wasn’t going to give up that easily. She followed Ron through the portrait hole, hissing at them like an angry goose. “Don’t you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don’t want Slytherin to win the House Cup and you’ll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells.” “Go away.” “All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you’re on the train home tomorrow, you’re so –”<|speaker|>Hermione Granger<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>They pulled on their dressing-gow ns, picked up their wands and crept across the tower room, down th e spiral staircase and into the Gryffindor common room. A few embers were still glowing in the fireplace, turning all the armchair s into hunched black shadows. They had almost reached the portrait hole when a voice spoke from the chair nearest them: “I can’t believe you’re going to do this, Harry.” A lamp flickered on. It was Hermione Granger, wearing a pink dressing-gown and a frown. “You!” said Ron furiously. “Go back to bed!” “I almost told your brother,” Hermione snapped.<|quote|>“Percy – he’s a Prefect, he’d put a stop to this.”</|quote|>Harry couldn’t believe anyone could be so interfering. “Come on,” he said to Ron. He pu shed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and climbed through the hole. Hermione wasn’t going to give up that easily. She followed Ron through the portrait hole, hissing at them like an angry goose. “Don’t you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don’t want Slytherin to win the House Cup and you’ll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells.” “Go away.” “All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you’re on the train home tomorrow, you’re so –”<|speaker|> | <|context|>They pulled on their dressing-gow ns, picked up their wands and crept across the tower room, down th e spiral staircase and into the Gryffindor common room. A few embers were still glowing in the fireplace, turning all the armchair s into hunched black shadows. They had almost reached the portrait hole when a voice spoke from the chair nearest them: “I can’t believe you’re going to do this, Harry.” A lamp flickered on. It was Hermione Granger, wearing a pink dressing-gown and a frown. “You!” said Ron furiously. “Go back to bed!” “I almost told your brother,” Hermione snapped.<|quote|>“Percy – he’s a Prefect, he’d put a stop to this.”</|quote|>Harry couldn’t believe anyone could be so interfering. “Come on,” he said to Ron. He pu shed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and climbed through the hole. Hermione wasn’t going to give up that easily. She followed Ron through the portrait hole, hissing at them like an angry goose. “Don’t you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don’t want Slytherin to win the House Cup and you’ll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells.” “Go away.” “All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you’re on the train home tomorrow, you’re so –”<|speaker|>Hermione Granger | <|context|>They pulled on their dressing-gow ns, picked up their wands and crept across the tower room, down th e spiral staircase and into the Gryffindor common room. A few embers were still glowing in the fireplace, turning all the armchair s into hunched black shadows. They had almost reached the portrait hole when a voice spoke from the chair nearest them: “I can’t believe you’re going to do this, Harry.” A lamp flickered on. It was Hermione Granger, wearing a pink dressing-gown and a frown. “You!” said Ron furiously. “Go back to bed!” “I almost told your brother,” Hermione snapped.<|quote|>“Percy – he’s a Prefect, he’d put a stop to this.”</|quote|>Harry couldn’t believe anyone could be so interfering. “Come on,” he said to Ron. He pu shed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and climbed through the hole. Hermione wasn’t going to give up that easily. She followed Ron through the portrait hole, hissing at them like an angry goose. “Don’t you care about Gryffindor, do you only care about yourselves, I don’t want Slytherin to win the House Cup and you’ll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells.” “Go away.” “All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you’re on the train home tomorrow, you’re so –”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>Snape spat bitterly on the ground. Harry left the changing room alone some time later, to take his Nimbus Two Thousand back to th e broomshed. He couldn’t ever remember feeling happier. He’d really done something to be proud of now – no one could say he was just a famous name any more. The evening air had never smelled so sweet. He walked over the damp grass, reliving the last hour in his head, which was a happy blur: Gryffindors running to lift him on to their shoulders; Ron and Hermione in the distance, jumping up and down, Ron cheering through a heavy nosebleed. Harry had reached the shed. He lean t against the wooden door and looked up at Hogwarts, with its windows glowing red in the setting sun. Gryffindor in the lead. He’d done it, he’d shown Snape … And speaking of Snape … A hooded figure came swiftly down the front steps of the castle. Clearly not wanting to be seen, it walked as fast as possible towards the Forbidden Forest. Harry’s victory faded from his mind as he watched. He recognised the figure ’s prowling walk. Snape, sneaking into the Forest while everyone else was at dinner – what was going on? Harry jumped back on his Nimbus Two Thousand and took off. Gliding silently over the castle he saw Snape enter the Forest at a run. He followed. The trees were so thick he couldn’t see where Snape had gone. He flew in circles, lower and lower, brushing the top branches of trees until he heard voices. He glided towards them and landed noiselessly in a towering beech tree. He climbed carefully along one of the branches, holding tight to his broomstick, trying to see through the leaves. Below, in a shadowy clearing, stood Snape, but he wasn’t alone. Quirrell was there, too. Harry couldn’t make out the look on his face, but he was stuttering worse than ever. Harry strained to catch what they were saying. “… d-don’t know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus …” “Oh, I thought we’d keep this priv ate,”<|quote|>said Snape, his voice icy.</|quote|>“Students aren’t supposed to know about the Philosopher’s Stone, after all.” Harry leant forward. Quirrell wa s mumbling something. Snape interrupted him. “Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid’s yet?” “B-b-but Severus, I –” “You don’t want me as your enemy, Quirrell,” said Snape, taking a step towards him. “I-I don-t know what you –” “You know perfectly well what I mean.” An owl hooted loudly and Harry ne arly fell out of the tree. He steadied himself in time to hear Snape say, “– your little bit of hocus pocus. I’m waiting.” “B-but I d-d-don’t –” “Very well,” Snape cut in.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>Snape spat bitterly on the ground. Harry left the changing room alone some time later, to take his Nimbus Two Thousand back to th e broomshed. He couldn’t ever remember feeling happier. He’d really done something to be proud of now – no one could say he was just a famous name any more. The evening air had never smelled so sweet. He walked over the damp grass, reliving the last hour in his head, which was a happy blur: Gryffindors running to lift him on to their shoulders; Ron and Hermione in the distance, jumping up and down, Ron cheering through a heavy nosebleed. Harry had reached the shed. He lean t against the wooden door and looked up at Hogwarts, with its windows glowing red in the setting sun. Gryffindor in the lead. He’d done it, he’d shown Snape … And speaking of Snape … A hooded figure came swiftly down the front steps of the castle. Clearly not wanting to be seen, it walked as fast as possible towards the Forbidden Forest. Harry’s victory faded from his mind as he watched. He recognised the figure ’s prowling walk. Snape, sneaking into the Forest while everyone else was at dinner – what was going on? Harry jumped back on his Nimbus Two Thousand and took off. Gliding silently over the castle he saw Snape enter the Forest at a run. He followed. The trees were so thick he couldn’t see where Snape had gone. He flew in circles, lower and lower, brushing the top branches of trees until he heard voices. He glided towards them and landed noiselessly in a towering beech tree. He climbed carefully along one of the branches, holding tight to his broomstick, trying to see through the leaves. Below, in a shadowy clearing, stood Snape, but he wasn’t alone. Quirrell was there, too. Harry couldn’t make out the look on his face, but he was stuttering worse than ever. Harry strained to catch what they were saying. “… d-don’t know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus …” “Oh, I thought we’d keep this priv ate,”<|quote|>said Snape, his voice icy.</|quote|>“Students aren’t supposed to know about the Philosopher’s Stone, after all.” Harry leant forward. Quirrell wa s mumbling something. Snape interrupted him. “Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid’s yet?” “B-b-but Severus, I –” “You don’t want me as your enemy, Quirrell,” said Snape, taking a step towards him. “I-I don-t know what you –” “You know perfectly well what I mean.” An owl hooted loudly and Harry ne arly fell out of the tree. He steadied himself in time to hear Snape say, “– your little bit of hocus pocus. I’m waiting.” “B-but I d-d-don’t –” “Very well,” Snape cut in.<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Snape spat bitterly on the ground. Harry left the changing room alone some time later, to take his Nimbus Two Thousand back to th e broomshed. He couldn’t ever remember feeling happier. He’d really done something to be proud of now – no one could say he was just a famous name any more. The evening air had never smelled so sweet. He walked over the damp grass, reliving the last hour in his head, which was a happy blur: Gryffindors running to lift him on to their shoulders; Ron and Hermione in the distance, jumping up and down, Ron cheering through a heavy nosebleed. Harry had reached the shed. He lean t against the wooden door and looked up at Hogwarts, with its windows glowing red in the setting sun. Gryffindor in the lead. He’d done it, he’d shown Snape … And speaking of Snape … A hooded figure came swiftly down the front steps of the castle. Clearly not wanting to be seen, it walked as fast as possible towards the Forbidden Forest. Harry’s victory faded from his mind as he watched. He recognised the figure ’s prowling walk. Snape, sneaking into the Forest while everyone else was at dinner – what was going on? Harry jumped back on his Nimbus Two Thousand and took off. Gliding silently over the castle he saw Snape enter the Forest at a run. He followed. The trees were so thick he couldn’t see where Snape had gone. He flew in circles, lower and lower, brushing the top branches of trees until he heard voices. He glided towards them and landed noiselessly in a towering beech tree. He climbed carefully along one of the branches, holding tight to his broomstick, trying to see through the leaves. Below, in a shadowy clearing, stood Snape, but he wasn’t alone. Quirrell was there, too. Harry couldn’t make out the look on his face, but he was stuttering worse than ever. Harry strained to catch what they were saying. “… d-don’t know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus …” “Oh, I thought we’d keep this priv ate,”<|quote|>said Snape, his voice icy.</|quote|>“Students aren’t supposed to know about the Philosopher’s Stone, after all.” Harry leant forward. Quirrell wa s mumbling something. Snape interrupted him. “Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid’s yet?” “B-b-but Severus, I –” “You don’t want me as your enemy, Quirrell,” said Snape, taking a step towards him. “I-I don-t know what you –” “You know perfectly well what I mean.” An owl hooted loudly and Harry ne arly fell out of the tree. He steadied himself in time to hear Snape say, “– your little bit of hocus pocus. I’m waiting.” “B-but I d-d-don’t –” “Very well,” Snape cut in.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Snape spat bitterly on the ground. Harry left the changing room alone some time later, to take his Nimbus Two Thousand back to th e broomshed. He couldn’t ever remember feeling happier. He’d really done something to be proud of now – no one could say he was just a famous name any more. The evening air had never smelled so sweet. He walked over the damp grass, reliving the last hour in his head, which was a happy blur: Gryffindors running to lift him on to their shoulders; Ron and Hermione in the distance, jumping up and down, Ron cheering through a heavy nosebleed. Harry had reached the shed. He lean t against the wooden door and looked up at Hogwarts, with its windows glowing red in the setting sun. Gryffindor in the lead. He’d done it, he’d shown Snape … And speaking of Snape … A hooded figure came swiftly down the front steps of the castle. Clearly not wanting to be seen, it walked as fast as possible towards the Forbidden Forest. Harry’s victory faded from his mind as he watched. He recognised the figure ’s prowling walk. Snape, sneaking into the Forest while everyone else was at dinner – what was going on? Harry jumped back on his Nimbus Two Thousand and took off. Gliding silently over the castle he saw Snape enter the Forest at a run. He followed. The trees were so thick he couldn’t see where Snape had gone. He flew in circles, lower and lower, brushing the top branches of trees until he heard voices. He glided towards them and landed noiselessly in a towering beech tree. He climbed carefully along one of the branches, holding tight to his broomstick, trying to see through the leaves. Below, in a shadowy clearing, stood Snape, but he wasn’t alone. Quirrell was there, too. Harry couldn’t make out the look on his face, but he was stuttering worse than ever. Harry strained to catch what they were saying. “… d-don’t know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus …” “Oh, I thought we’d keep this priv ate,”<|quote|>said Snape, his voice icy.</|quote|>“Students aren’t supposed to know about the Philosopher’s Stone, after all.” Harry leant forward. Quirrell wa s mumbling something. Snape interrupted him. “Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid’s yet?” “B-b-but Severus, I –” “You don’t want me as your enemy, Quirrell,” said Snape, taking a step towards him. “I-I don-t know what you –” “You know perfectly well what I mean.” An owl hooted loudly and Harry ne arly fell out of the tree. He steadied himself in time to hear Snape say, “– your little bit of hocus pocus. I’m waiting.” “B-but I d-d-don’t –” “Very well,” Snape cut in.<|speaker|> | <|context|>Snape spat bitterly on the ground. Harry left the changing room alone some time later, to take his Nimbus Two Thousand back to th e broomshed. He couldn’t ever remember feeling happier. He’d really done something to be proud of now – no one could say he was just a famous name any more. The evening air had never smelled so sweet. He walked over the damp grass, reliving the last hour in his head, which was a happy blur: Gryffindors running to lift him on to their shoulders; Ron and Hermione in the distance, jumping up and down, Ron cheering through a heavy nosebleed. Harry had reached the shed. He lean t against the wooden door and looked up at Hogwarts, with its windows glowing red in the setting sun. Gryffindor in the lead. He’d done it, he’d shown Snape … And speaking of Snape … A hooded figure came swiftly down the front steps of the castle. Clearly not wanting to be seen, it walked as fast as possible towards the Forbidden Forest. Harry’s victory faded from his mind as he watched. He recognised the figure ’s prowling walk. Snape, sneaking into the Forest while everyone else was at dinner – what was going on? Harry jumped back on his Nimbus Two Thousand and took off. Gliding silently over the castle he saw Snape enter the Forest at a run. He followed. The trees were so thick he couldn’t see where Snape had gone. He flew in circles, lower and lower, brushing the top branches of trees until he heard voices. He glided towards them and landed noiselessly in a towering beech tree. He climbed carefully along one of the branches, holding tight to his broomstick, trying to see through the leaves. Below, in a shadowy clearing, stood Snape, but he wasn’t alone. Quirrell was there, too. Harry couldn’t make out the look on his face, but he was stuttering worse than ever. Harry strained to catch what they were saying. “… d-don’t know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus …” “Oh, I thought we’d keep this priv ate,”<|quote|>said Snape, his voice icy.</|quote|>“Students aren’t supposed to know about the Philosopher’s Stone, after all.” Harry leant forward. Quirrell wa s mumbling something. Snape interrupted him. “Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid’s yet?” “B-b-but Severus, I –” “You don’t want me as your enemy, Quirrell,” said Snape, taking a step towards him. “I-I don-t know what you –” “You know perfectly well what I mean.” An owl hooted loudly and Harry ne arly fell out of the tree. He steadied himself in time to hear Snape say, “– your little bit of hocus pocus. I’m waiting.” “B-but I d-d-don’t –” “Very well,” Snape cut in.<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>Snape spat bitterly on the ground. Harry left the changing room alone some time later, to take his Nimbus Two Thousand back to th e broomshed. He couldn’t ever remember feeling happier. He’d really done something to be proud of now – no one could say he was just a famous name any more. The evening air had never smelled so sweet. He walked over the damp grass, reliving the last hour in his head, which was a happy blur: Gryffindors running to lift him on to their shoulders; Ron and Hermione in the distance, jumping up and down, Ron cheering through a heavy nosebleed. Harry had reached the shed. He lean t against the wooden door and looked up at Hogwarts, with its windows glowing red in the setting sun. Gryffindor in the lead. He’d done it, he’d shown Snape … And speaking of Snape … A hooded figure came swiftly down the front steps of the castle. Clearly not wanting to be seen, it walked as fast as possible towards the Forbidden Forest. Harry’s victory faded from his mind as he watched. He recognised the figure ’s prowling walk. Snape, sneaking into the Forest while everyone else was at dinner – what was going on? Harry jumped back on his Nimbus Two Thousand and took off. Gliding silently over the castle he saw Snape enter the Forest at a run. He followed. The trees were so thick he couldn’t see where Snape had gone. He flew in circles, lower and lower, brushing the top branches of trees until he heard voices. He glided towards them and landed noiselessly in a towering beech tree. He climbed carefully along one of the branches, holding tight to his broomstick, trying to see through the leaves. Below, in a shadowy clearing, stood Snape, but he wasn’t alone. Quirrell was there, too. Harry couldn’t make out the look on his face, but he was stuttering worse than ever. Harry strained to catch what they were saying. “… d-don’t know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus …” “Oh, I thought we’d keep this priv ate,”<|quote|>said Snape, his voice icy.</|quote|>“Students aren’t supposed to know about the Philosopher’s Stone, after all.” Harry leant forward. Quirrell wa s mumbling something. Snape interrupted him. “Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid’s yet?” “B-b-but Severus, I –” “You don’t want me as your enemy, Quirrell,” said Snape, taking a step towards him. “I-I don-t know what you –” “You know perfectly well what I mean.” An owl hooted loudly and Harry ne arly fell out of the tree. He steadied himself in time to hear Snape say, “– your little bit of hocus pocus. I’m waiting.” “B-but I d-d-don’t –” “Very well,” Snape cut in.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he’d said. One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving Harry at Mrs Figg’s. Mrs Figg wasn’t as bad as usual. It turned out she’d broken her leg tripping over one of her cats and she didn’t seem quite as fond of them as before. She let Harry watch television and gave him a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she’d had it for several years. That evening, Dudley paraded aro und the living-room for the family in his brand-new uniform. Smeltings boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitti ng each other while the teachers weren’t looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life. As he looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Vernon said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn’t believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins, he looked so handsome and grown-up. Harry didn’t trust himself to speak. He thought two of his ribs might already have cracked from trying not to laugh. There was a horrible smell in the kitchen next morning when Harry went in for breakfast. It seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. He went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in grey water. “What’s this?” he asked Aunt Petunia. Her lips tightened as they always did if he dared to ask a question. “Your new school uniform,” she said. Harry looked in the bowl again. “Oh,” he said.<|quote|>“I didn’t realise it had to be so wet.”</|quote|>“Don’t be stupid,” snapped Aunt Petunia. “I’m dyeing some of Dudley’s old things grey for you. It’ll look just like everyone else’s when I’ve finished.” Harry seriously doubted this, but thought it best not to argue. He sat down at the table and tried not to think about how he was going to look on his first day at Stonewall High – like he was wearing bits of old elephant skin, probably. Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses because of the smell from Harry’s new uniform. Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper as usual and Dudley banged his Smeltings stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table. They heard the click of the letter-box and flop of letters on the doormat.<|speaker|>Harry Potter<eos> | <bos><|context|>Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he’d said. One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving Harry at Mrs Figg’s. Mrs Figg wasn’t as bad as usual. It turned out she’d broken her leg tripping over one of her cats and she didn’t seem quite as fond of them as before. She let Harry watch television and gave him a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she’d had it for several years. That evening, Dudley paraded aro und the living-room for the family in his brand-new uniform. Smeltings boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitti ng each other while the teachers weren’t looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life. As he looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Vernon said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn’t believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins, he looked so handsome and grown-up. Harry didn’t trust himself to speak. He thought two of his ribs might already have cracked from trying not to laugh. There was a horrible smell in the kitchen next morning when Harry went in for breakfast. It seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. He went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in grey water. “What’s this?” he asked Aunt Petunia. Her lips tightened as they always did if he dared to ask a question. “Your new school uniform,” she said. Harry looked in the bowl again. “Oh,” he said.<|quote|>“I didn’t realise it had to be so wet.”</|quote|>“Don’t be stupid,” snapped Aunt Petunia. “I’m dyeing some of Dudley’s old things grey for you. It’ll look just like everyone else’s when I’ve finished.” Harry seriously doubted this, but thought it best not to argue. He sat down at the table and tried not to think about how he was going to look on his first day at Stonewall High – like he was wearing bits of old elephant skin, probably. Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses because of the smell from Harry’s new uniform. Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper as usual and Dudley banged his Smeltings stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table. They heard the click of the letter-box and flop of letters on the doormat.<|speaker|> | Harry Potter | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he’d said. One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving Harry at Mrs Figg’s. Mrs Figg wasn’t as bad as usual. It turned out she’d broken her leg tripping over one of her cats and she didn’t seem quite as fond of them as before. She let Harry watch television and gave him a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she’d had it for several years. That evening, Dudley paraded aro und the living-room for the family in his brand-new uniform. Smeltings boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitti ng each other while the teachers weren’t looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life. As he looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Vernon said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn’t believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins, he looked so handsome and grown-up. Harry didn’t trust himself to speak. He thought two of his ribs might already have cracked from trying not to laugh. There was a horrible smell in the kitchen next morning when Harry went in for breakfast. It seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. He went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in grey water. “What’s this?” he asked Aunt Petunia. Her lips tightened as they always did if he dared to ask a question. “Your new school uniform,” she said. Harry looked in the bowl again. “Oh,” he said.<|quote|>“I didn’t realise it had to be so wet.”</|quote|>“Don’t be stupid,” snapped Aunt Petunia. “I’m dyeing some of Dudley’s old things grey for you. It’ll look just like everyone else’s when I’ve finished.” Harry seriously doubted this, but thought it best not to argue. He sat down at the table and tried not to think about how he was going to look on his first day at Stonewall High – like he was wearing bits of old elephant skin, probably. Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses because of the smell from Harry’s new uniform. Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper as usual and Dudley banged his Smeltings stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table. They heard the click of the letter-box and flop of letters on the doormat.<|speaker|>Harry Potter<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he’d said. One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving Harry at Mrs Figg’s. Mrs Figg wasn’t as bad as usual. It turned out she’d broken her leg tripping over one of her cats and she didn’t seem quite as fond of them as before. She let Harry watch television and gave him a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she’d had it for several years. That evening, Dudley paraded aro und the living-room for the family in his brand-new uniform. Smeltings boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitti ng each other while the teachers weren’t looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life. As he looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Vernon said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn’t believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins, he looked so handsome and grown-up. Harry didn’t trust himself to speak. He thought two of his ribs might already have cracked from trying not to laugh. There was a horrible smell in the kitchen next morning when Harry went in for breakfast. It seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. He went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in grey water. “What’s this?” he asked Aunt Petunia. Her lips tightened as they always did if he dared to ask a question. “Your new school uniform,” she said. Harry looked in the bowl again. “Oh,” he said.<|quote|>“I didn’t realise it had to be so wet.”</|quote|>“Don’t be stupid,” snapped Aunt Petunia. “I’m dyeing some of Dudley’s old things grey for you. It’ll look just like everyone else’s when I’ve finished.” Harry seriously doubted this, but thought it best not to argue. He sat down at the table and tried not to think about how he was going to look on his first day at Stonewall High – like he was wearing bits of old elephant skin, probably. Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses because of the smell from Harry’s new uniform. Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper as usual and Dudley banged his Smeltings stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table. They heard the click of the letter-box and flop of letters on the doormat.<|speaker|> | <|context|>Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he’d said. One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving Harry at Mrs Figg’s. Mrs Figg wasn’t as bad as usual. It turned out she’d broken her leg tripping over one of her cats and she didn’t seem quite as fond of them as before. She let Harry watch television and gave him a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she’d had it for several years. That evening, Dudley paraded aro und the living-room for the family in his brand-new uniform. Smeltings boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitti ng each other while the teachers weren’t looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life. As he looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Vernon said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn’t believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins, he looked so handsome and grown-up. Harry didn’t trust himself to speak. He thought two of his ribs might already have cracked from trying not to laugh. There was a horrible smell in the kitchen next morning when Harry went in for breakfast. It seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. He went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in grey water. “What’s this?” he asked Aunt Petunia. Her lips tightened as they always did if he dared to ask a question. “Your new school uniform,” she said. Harry looked in the bowl again. “Oh,” he said.<|quote|>“I didn’t realise it had to be so wet.”</|quote|>“Don’t be stupid,” snapped Aunt Petunia. “I’m dyeing some of Dudley’s old things grey for you. It’ll look just like everyone else’s when I’ve finished.” Harry seriously doubted this, but thought it best not to argue. He sat down at the table and tried not to think about how he was going to look on his first day at Stonewall High – like he was wearing bits of old elephant skin, probably. Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses because of the smell from Harry’s new uniform. Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper as usual and Dudley banged his Smeltings stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table. They heard the click of the letter-box and flop of letters on the doormat.<|speaker|>Harry Potter | <|context|>Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he’d said. One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving Harry at Mrs Figg’s. Mrs Figg wasn’t as bad as usual. It turned out she’d broken her leg tripping over one of her cats and she didn’t seem quite as fond of them as before. She let Harry watch television and gave him a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she’d had it for several years. That evening, Dudley paraded aro und the living-room for the family in his brand-new uniform. Smeltings boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitti ng each other while the teachers weren’t looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life. As he looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Vernon said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn’t believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins, he looked so handsome and grown-up. Harry didn’t trust himself to speak. He thought two of his ribs might already have cracked from trying not to laugh. There was a horrible smell in the kitchen next morning when Harry went in for breakfast. It seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. He went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in grey water. “What’s this?” he asked Aunt Petunia. Her lips tightened as they always did if he dared to ask a question. “Your new school uniform,” she said. Harry looked in the bowl again. “Oh,” he said.<|quote|>“I didn’t realise it had to be so wet.”</|quote|>“Don’t be stupid,” snapped Aunt Petunia. “I’m dyeing some of Dudley’s old things grey for you. It’ll look just like everyone else’s when I’ve finished.” Harry seriously doubted this, but thought it best not to argue. He sat down at the table and tried not to think about how he was going to look on his first day at Stonewall High – like he was wearing bits of old elephant skin, probably. Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses because of the smell from Harry’s new uniform. Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper as usual and Dudley banged his Smeltings stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table. They heard the click of the letter-box and flop of letters on the doormat.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>The train pulled out of the station. Harry wanted to watch Hagrid until he was out of sight; he rose in his seat and pressed his nose against the window, but he blinked and Hagrid had gone. 6 – The Journey from Platform Nine and Three-Quarters Harry’s last month with the Dursleys wasn’t fun. True, Dudley was now so scared of Harry he wouldn’t stay in the same room, while Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon didn’t shut Harry in his cupboard, force him to do anything or shout at him – in fact, they didn’t speak to him at all. Half-terrified, half-furious, th ey acted as though any chair with Harry in it was empty. Although th is was an improvement in many ways, it did become a bit depressing after a while. Harry kept to his room, with his new owl for company. He had decided to call her Hedwig, a name he had found in A History of Magic . His school books were very interesting. He lay on his bed reading late into the night, Hedwig swooping in and out of the open window as she pleased. It was lucky that Aunt Pet unia didn’t come in to hoover any more, because Hedwig kept bringing back dead mice. Every night before he went to sleep, Harry ticked off another day on the piece of paper he had pinned to the wall, counting down to September the first. On the last day of August he thou ght he’d better speak to his aunt and uncle about getting to King’s Cross station next day, so he went down to the living-room, where they were watching a quiz show on television. He cleared his throat to let them know he was there, and Dudley screamed and ran from the room. “Er – Uncle Vernon?” Uncle Vernon grunted to show he was listening. “Er – I need to be at King’s Cross tomorrow to – to go to Hogwarts.” Uncle Vernon grunted again. “Would it be all right if you gave me a lift?” Grunt. Harry supposed that meant yes. “Thank you.”<|quote|>He was about to go back upstai rs when Uncle Vernon actually spoke.</|quote|>“Funny way to get to a wizards’ school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?” Harry didn’t say anything. “Where is this school, anyway?” “I don’t know,” said Harry, realising this for the first time. He pulled the ticket Hagrid had given him out of his pocket. “I just take the train from plat form nine and three-quarters at eleven o’clock,” he read. His aunt and uncle stared. “Platform what?” “Nine and three-quarters.” “Don’t talk rubbish,” said Uncle Ve rnon, “there is no platform nine and three-quarters.” “It’s on my ticket.” “Barking,” said Uncle Vernon,<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>The train pulled out of the station. Harry wanted to watch Hagrid until he was out of sight; he rose in his seat and pressed his nose against the window, but he blinked and Hagrid had gone. 6 – The Journey from Platform Nine and Three-Quarters Harry’s last month with the Dursleys wasn’t fun. True, Dudley was now so scared of Harry he wouldn’t stay in the same room, while Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon didn’t shut Harry in his cupboard, force him to do anything or shout at him – in fact, they didn’t speak to him at all. Half-terrified, half-furious, th ey acted as though any chair with Harry in it was empty. Although th is was an improvement in many ways, it did become a bit depressing after a while. Harry kept to his room, with his new owl for company. He had decided to call her Hedwig, a name he had found in A History of Magic . His school books were very interesting. He lay on his bed reading late into the night, Hedwig swooping in and out of the open window as she pleased. It was lucky that Aunt Pet unia didn’t come in to hoover any more, because Hedwig kept bringing back dead mice. Every night before he went to sleep, Harry ticked off another day on the piece of paper he had pinned to the wall, counting down to September the first. On the last day of August he thou ght he’d better speak to his aunt and uncle about getting to King’s Cross station next day, so he went down to the living-room, where they were watching a quiz show on television. He cleared his throat to let them know he was there, and Dudley screamed and ran from the room. “Er – Uncle Vernon?” Uncle Vernon grunted to show he was listening. “Er – I need to be at King’s Cross tomorrow to – to go to Hogwarts.” Uncle Vernon grunted again. “Would it be all right if you gave me a lift?” Grunt. Harry supposed that meant yes. “Thank you.”<|quote|>He was about to go back upstai rs when Uncle Vernon actually spoke.</|quote|>“Funny way to get to a wizards’ school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?” Harry didn’t say anything. “Where is this school, anyway?” “I don’t know,” said Harry, realising this for the first time. He pulled the ticket Hagrid had given him out of his pocket. “I just take the train from plat form nine and three-quarters at eleven o’clock,” he read. His aunt and uncle stared. “Platform what?” “Nine and three-quarters.” “Don’t talk rubbish,” said Uncle Ve rnon, “there is no platform nine and three-quarters.” “It’s on my ticket.” “Barking,” said Uncle Vernon,<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>The train pulled out of the station. Harry wanted to watch Hagrid until he was out of sight; he rose in his seat and pressed his nose against the window, but he blinked and Hagrid had gone. 6 – The Journey from Platform Nine and Three-Quarters Harry’s last month with the Dursleys wasn’t fun. True, Dudley was now so scared of Harry he wouldn’t stay in the same room, while Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon didn’t shut Harry in his cupboard, force him to do anything or shout at him – in fact, they didn’t speak to him at all. Half-terrified, half-furious, th ey acted as though any chair with Harry in it was empty. Although th is was an improvement in many ways, it did become a bit depressing after a while. Harry kept to his room, with his new owl for company. He had decided to call her Hedwig, a name he had found in A History of Magic . His school books were very interesting. He lay on his bed reading late into the night, Hedwig swooping in and out of the open window as she pleased. It was lucky that Aunt Pet unia didn’t come in to hoover any more, because Hedwig kept bringing back dead mice. Every night before he went to sleep, Harry ticked off another day on the piece of paper he had pinned to the wall, counting down to September the first. On the last day of August he thou ght he’d better speak to his aunt and uncle about getting to King’s Cross station next day, so he went down to the living-room, where they were watching a quiz show on television. He cleared his throat to let them know he was there, and Dudley screamed and ran from the room. “Er – Uncle Vernon?” Uncle Vernon grunted to show he was listening. “Er – I need to be at King’s Cross tomorrow to – to go to Hogwarts.” Uncle Vernon grunted again. “Would it be all right if you gave me a lift?” Grunt. Harry supposed that meant yes. “Thank you.”<|quote|>He was about to go back upstai rs when Uncle Vernon actually spoke.</|quote|>“Funny way to get to a wizards’ school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?” Harry didn’t say anything. “Where is this school, anyway?” “I don’t know,” said Harry, realising this for the first time. He pulled the ticket Hagrid had given him out of his pocket. “I just take the train from plat form nine and three-quarters at eleven o’clock,” he read. His aunt and uncle stared. “Platform what?” “Nine and three-quarters.” “Don’t talk rubbish,” said Uncle Ve rnon, “there is no platform nine and three-quarters.” “It’s on my ticket.” “Barking,” said Uncle Vernon,<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>The train pulled out of the station. Harry wanted to watch Hagrid until he was out of sight; he rose in his seat and pressed his nose against the window, but he blinked and Hagrid had gone. 6 – The Journey from Platform Nine and Three-Quarters Harry’s last month with the Dursleys wasn’t fun. True, Dudley was now so scared of Harry he wouldn’t stay in the same room, while Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon didn’t shut Harry in his cupboard, force him to do anything or shout at him – in fact, they didn’t speak to him at all. Half-terrified, half-furious, th ey acted as though any chair with Harry in it was empty. Although th is was an improvement in many ways, it did become a bit depressing after a while. Harry kept to his room, with his new owl for company. He had decided to call her Hedwig, a name he had found in A History of Magic . His school books were very interesting. He lay on his bed reading late into the night, Hedwig swooping in and out of the open window as she pleased. It was lucky that Aunt Pet unia didn’t come in to hoover any more, because Hedwig kept bringing back dead mice. Every night before he went to sleep, Harry ticked off another day on the piece of paper he had pinned to the wall, counting down to September the first. On the last day of August he thou ght he’d better speak to his aunt and uncle about getting to King’s Cross station next day, so he went down to the living-room, where they were watching a quiz show on television. He cleared his throat to let them know he was there, and Dudley screamed and ran from the room. “Er – Uncle Vernon?” Uncle Vernon grunted to show he was listening. “Er – I need to be at King’s Cross tomorrow to – to go to Hogwarts.” Uncle Vernon grunted again. “Would it be all right if you gave me a lift?” Grunt. Harry supposed that meant yes. “Thank you.”<|quote|>He was about to go back upstai rs when Uncle Vernon actually spoke.</|quote|>“Funny way to get to a wizards’ school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?” Harry didn’t say anything. “Where is this school, anyway?” “I don’t know,” said Harry, realising this for the first time. He pulled the ticket Hagrid had given him out of his pocket. “I just take the train from plat form nine and three-quarters at eleven o’clock,” he read. His aunt and uncle stared. “Platform what?” “Nine and three-quarters.” “Don’t talk rubbish,” said Uncle Ve rnon, “there is no platform nine and three-quarters.” “It’s on my ticket.” “Barking,” said Uncle Vernon,<|speaker|> | <|context|>The train pulled out of the station. Harry wanted to watch Hagrid until he was out of sight; he rose in his seat and pressed his nose against the window, but he blinked and Hagrid had gone. 6 – The Journey from Platform Nine and Three-Quarters Harry’s last month with the Dursleys wasn’t fun. True, Dudley was now so scared of Harry he wouldn’t stay in the same room, while Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon didn’t shut Harry in his cupboard, force him to do anything or shout at him – in fact, they didn’t speak to him at all. Half-terrified, half-furious, th ey acted as though any chair with Harry in it was empty. Although th is was an improvement in many ways, it did become a bit depressing after a while. Harry kept to his room, with his new owl for company. He had decided to call her Hedwig, a name he had found in A History of Magic . His school books were very interesting. He lay on his bed reading late into the night, Hedwig swooping in and out of the open window as she pleased. It was lucky that Aunt Pet unia didn’t come in to hoover any more, because Hedwig kept bringing back dead mice. Every night before he went to sleep, Harry ticked off another day on the piece of paper he had pinned to the wall, counting down to September the first. On the last day of August he thou ght he’d better speak to his aunt and uncle about getting to King’s Cross station next day, so he went down to the living-room, where they were watching a quiz show on television. He cleared his throat to let them know he was there, and Dudley screamed and ran from the room. “Er – Uncle Vernon?” Uncle Vernon grunted to show he was listening. “Er – I need to be at King’s Cross tomorrow to – to go to Hogwarts.” Uncle Vernon grunted again. “Would it be all right if you gave me a lift?” Grunt. Harry supposed that meant yes. “Thank you.”<|quote|>He was about to go back upstai rs when Uncle Vernon actually spoke.</|quote|>“Funny way to get to a wizards’ school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?” Harry didn’t say anything. “Where is this school, anyway?” “I don’t know,” said Harry, realising this for the first time. He pulled the ticket Hagrid had given him out of his pocket. “I just take the train from plat form nine and three-quarters at eleven o’clock,” he read. His aunt and uncle stared. “Platform what?” “Nine and three-quarters.” “Don’t talk rubbish,” said Uncle Ve rnon, “there is no platform nine and three-quarters.” “It’s on my ticket.” “Barking,” said Uncle Vernon,<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>The train pulled out of the station. Harry wanted to watch Hagrid until he was out of sight; he rose in his seat and pressed his nose against the window, but he blinked and Hagrid had gone. 6 – The Journey from Platform Nine and Three-Quarters Harry’s last month with the Dursleys wasn’t fun. True, Dudley was now so scared of Harry he wouldn’t stay in the same room, while Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon didn’t shut Harry in his cupboard, force him to do anything or shout at him – in fact, they didn’t speak to him at all. Half-terrified, half-furious, th ey acted as though any chair with Harry in it was empty. Although th is was an improvement in many ways, it did become a bit depressing after a while. Harry kept to his room, with his new owl for company. He had decided to call her Hedwig, a name he had found in A History of Magic . His school books were very interesting. He lay on his bed reading late into the night, Hedwig swooping in and out of the open window as she pleased. It was lucky that Aunt Pet unia didn’t come in to hoover any more, because Hedwig kept bringing back dead mice. Every night before he went to sleep, Harry ticked off another day on the piece of paper he had pinned to the wall, counting down to September the first. On the last day of August he thou ght he’d better speak to his aunt and uncle about getting to King’s Cross station next day, so he went down to the living-room, where they were watching a quiz show on television. He cleared his throat to let them know he was there, and Dudley screamed and ran from the room. “Er – Uncle Vernon?” Uncle Vernon grunted to show he was listening. “Er – I need to be at King’s Cross tomorrow to – to go to Hogwarts.” Uncle Vernon grunted again. “Would it be all right if you gave me a lift?” Grunt. Harry supposed that meant yes. “Thank you.”<|quote|>He was about to go back upstai rs when Uncle Vernon actually spoke.</|quote|>“Funny way to get to a wizards’ school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?” Harry didn’t say anything. “Where is this school, anyway?” “I don’t know,” said Harry, realising this for the first time. He pulled the ticket Hagrid had given him out of his pocket. “I just take the train from plat form nine and three-quarters at eleven o’clock,” he read. His aunt and uncle stared. “Platform what?” “Nine and three-quarters.” “Don’t talk rubbish,” said Uncle Ve rnon, “there is no platform nine and three-quarters.” “It’s on my ticket.” “Barking,” said Uncle Vernon,<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he’d said. One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving Harry at Mrs Figg’s. Mrs Figg wasn’t as bad as usual. It turned out she’d broken her leg tripping over one of her cats and she didn’t seem quite as fond of them as before. She let Harry watch television and gave him a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she’d had it for several years. That evening, Dudley paraded aro und the living-room for the family in his brand-new uniform. Smeltings boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitti ng each other while the teachers weren’t looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life. As he looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Vernon said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn’t believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins, he looked so handsome and grown-up. Harry didn’t trust himself to speak. He thought two of his ribs might already have cracked from trying not to laugh. There was a horrible smell in the kitchen next morning when Harry went in for breakfast. It seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. He went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in grey water.<|quote|>“What’s this?”</|quote|>he asked Aunt Petunia. Her lips tightened as they always did if he dared to ask a question. “Your new school uniform,” she said. Harry looked in the bowl again. “Oh,” he said. “I didn’t realise it had to be so wet.” “Don’t be stupid,” snapped Aunt Petunia. “I’m dyeing some of Dudley’s old things grey for you. It’ll look just like everyone else’s when I’ve finished.” Harry seriously doubted this, but thought it best not to argue. He sat down at the table and tried not to think about how he was going to look on his first day at Stonewall High – like he was wearing bits of old elephant skin, probably. Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses because of the smell from Harry’s new uniform. Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper as usual and Dudley banged his Smeltings stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table. They heard the click of the letter-box and flop of letters on the doormat.<|speaker|>Harry Potter<eos> | <bos><|context|>Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he’d said. One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving Harry at Mrs Figg’s. Mrs Figg wasn’t as bad as usual. It turned out she’d broken her leg tripping over one of her cats and she didn’t seem quite as fond of them as before. She let Harry watch television and gave him a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she’d had it for several years. That evening, Dudley paraded aro und the living-room for the family in his brand-new uniform. Smeltings boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitti ng each other while the teachers weren’t looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life. As he looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Vernon said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn’t believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins, he looked so handsome and grown-up. Harry didn’t trust himself to speak. He thought two of his ribs might already have cracked from trying not to laugh. There was a horrible smell in the kitchen next morning when Harry went in for breakfast. It seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. He went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in grey water.<|quote|>“What’s this?”</|quote|>he asked Aunt Petunia. Her lips tightened as they always did if he dared to ask a question. “Your new school uniform,” she said. Harry looked in the bowl again. “Oh,” he said. “I didn’t realise it had to be so wet.” “Don’t be stupid,” snapped Aunt Petunia. “I’m dyeing some of Dudley’s old things grey for you. It’ll look just like everyone else’s when I’ve finished.” Harry seriously doubted this, but thought it best not to argue. He sat down at the table and tried not to think about how he was going to look on his first day at Stonewall High – like he was wearing bits of old elephant skin, probably. Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses because of the smell from Harry’s new uniform. Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper as usual and Dudley banged his Smeltings stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table. They heard the click of the letter-box and flop of letters on the doormat.<|speaker|> | Harry Potter | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he’d said. One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving Harry at Mrs Figg’s. Mrs Figg wasn’t as bad as usual. It turned out she’d broken her leg tripping over one of her cats and she didn’t seem quite as fond of them as before. She let Harry watch television and gave him a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she’d had it for several years. That evening, Dudley paraded aro und the living-room for the family in his brand-new uniform. Smeltings boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitti ng each other while the teachers weren’t looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life. As he looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Vernon said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn’t believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins, he looked so handsome and grown-up. Harry didn’t trust himself to speak. He thought two of his ribs might already have cracked from trying not to laugh. There was a horrible smell in the kitchen next morning when Harry went in for breakfast. It seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. He went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in grey water.<|quote|>“What’s this?”</|quote|>he asked Aunt Petunia. Her lips tightened as they always did if he dared to ask a question. “Your new school uniform,” she said. Harry looked in the bowl again. “Oh,” he said. “I didn’t realise it had to be so wet.” “Don’t be stupid,” snapped Aunt Petunia. “I’m dyeing some of Dudley’s old things grey for you. It’ll look just like everyone else’s when I’ve finished.” Harry seriously doubted this, but thought it best not to argue. He sat down at the table and tried not to think about how he was going to look on his first day at Stonewall High – like he was wearing bits of old elephant skin, probably. Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses because of the smell from Harry’s new uniform. Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper as usual and Dudley banged his Smeltings stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table. They heard the click of the letter-box and flop of letters on the doormat.<|speaker|>Harry Potter<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he’d said. One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving Harry at Mrs Figg’s. Mrs Figg wasn’t as bad as usual. It turned out she’d broken her leg tripping over one of her cats and she didn’t seem quite as fond of them as before. She let Harry watch television and gave him a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she’d had it for several years. That evening, Dudley paraded aro und the living-room for the family in his brand-new uniform. Smeltings boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitti ng each other while the teachers weren’t looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life. As he looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Vernon said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn’t believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins, he looked so handsome and grown-up. Harry didn’t trust himself to speak. He thought two of his ribs might already have cracked from trying not to laugh. There was a horrible smell in the kitchen next morning when Harry went in for breakfast. It seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. He went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in grey water.<|quote|>“What’s this?”</|quote|>he asked Aunt Petunia. Her lips tightened as they always did if he dared to ask a question. “Your new school uniform,” she said. Harry looked in the bowl again. “Oh,” he said. “I didn’t realise it had to be so wet.” “Don’t be stupid,” snapped Aunt Petunia. “I’m dyeing some of Dudley’s old things grey for you. It’ll look just like everyone else’s when I’ve finished.” Harry seriously doubted this, but thought it best not to argue. He sat down at the table and tried not to think about how he was going to look on his first day at Stonewall High – like he was wearing bits of old elephant skin, probably. Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses because of the smell from Harry’s new uniform. Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper as usual and Dudley banged his Smeltings stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table. They heard the click of the letter-box and flop of letters on the doormat.<|speaker|> | <|context|>Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he’d said. One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving Harry at Mrs Figg’s. Mrs Figg wasn’t as bad as usual. It turned out she’d broken her leg tripping over one of her cats and she didn’t seem quite as fond of them as before. She let Harry watch television and gave him a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she’d had it for several years. That evening, Dudley paraded aro und the living-room for the family in his brand-new uniform. Smeltings boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitti ng each other while the teachers weren’t looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life. As he looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Vernon said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn’t believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins, he looked so handsome and grown-up. Harry didn’t trust himself to speak. He thought two of his ribs might already have cracked from trying not to laugh. There was a horrible smell in the kitchen next morning when Harry went in for breakfast. It seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. He went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in grey water.<|quote|>“What’s this?”</|quote|>he asked Aunt Petunia. Her lips tightened as they always did if he dared to ask a question. “Your new school uniform,” she said. Harry looked in the bowl again. “Oh,” he said. “I didn’t realise it had to be so wet.” “Don’t be stupid,” snapped Aunt Petunia. “I’m dyeing some of Dudley’s old things grey for you. It’ll look just like everyone else’s when I’ve finished.” Harry seriously doubted this, but thought it best not to argue. He sat down at the table and tried not to think about how he was going to look on his first day at Stonewall High – like he was wearing bits of old elephant skin, probably. Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses because of the smell from Harry’s new uniform. Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper as usual and Dudley banged his Smeltings stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table. They heard the click of the letter-box and flop of letters on the doormat.<|speaker|>Harry Potter | <|context|>Then he ran, before Dudley could work out what he’d said. One day in July, Aunt Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform, leaving Harry at Mrs Figg’s. Mrs Figg wasn’t as bad as usual. It turned out she’d broken her leg tripping over one of her cats and she didn’t seem quite as fond of them as before. She let Harry watch television and gave him a bit of chocolate cake that tasted as though she’d had it for several years. That evening, Dudley paraded aro und the living-room for the family in his brand-new uniform. Smeltings boys wore maroon tailcoats, orange knickerbockers and flat straw hats called boaters. They also carried knobbly sticks, used for hitti ng each other while the teachers weren’t looking. This was supposed to be good training for later life. As he looked at Dudley in his new knickerbockers, Uncle Vernon said gruffly that it was the proudest moment of his life. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and said she couldn’t believe it was her Ickle Dudleykins, he looked so handsome and grown-up. Harry didn’t trust himself to speak. He thought two of his ribs might already have cracked from trying not to laugh. There was a horrible smell in the kitchen next morning when Harry went in for breakfast. It seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. He went to have a look. The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in grey water.<|quote|>“What’s this?”</|quote|>he asked Aunt Petunia. Her lips tightened as they always did if he dared to ask a question. “Your new school uniform,” she said. Harry looked in the bowl again. “Oh,” he said. “I didn’t realise it had to be so wet.” “Don’t be stupid,” snapped Aunt Petunia. “I’m dyeing some of Dudley’s old things grey for you. It’ll look just like everyone else’s when I’ve finished.” Harry seriously doubted this, but thought it best not to argue. He sat down at the table and tried not to think about how he was going to look on his first day at Stonewall High – like he was wearing bits of old elephant skin, probably. Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses because of the smell from Harry’s new uniform. Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper as usual and Dudley banged his Smeltings stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table. They heard the click of the letter-box and flop of letters on the doormat.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>Unfortunately, the teachers seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Hermione. They piled so much homework on them that the Easter holidays weren’t nearly as much fun as the Christmas ones. It was hard to relax with Hermione next to you reciting the twelve uses of dragon’s blood or practising wand movements. Moaning and yawning, Harry and Ron spent most of their free time in the library with her, trying to get through all their extra work. “I’ll never remember this,” Ron burst out one afternoon, throwing down his quill and looking longingly out of the library window. It was the first really fine day they’d had in months. The sky was a clear, forget-me-not blue and there was a feeling in the air of summer coming. Harry, who was looking up “Dittany” in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi , didn’t look up until he heard Ron say,<|quote|>“Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?”</|quote|>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?” “Oh, we found out who he is ages ago,” said Ron impressively. “And we know what that dog’s guarding, it’s a Philosopher’s St–” “Shhhh!” Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening. “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,”<|speaker|>Ron Weasley<eos> | <bos><|context|>Unfortunately, the teachers seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Hermione. They piled so much homework on them that the Easter holidays weren’t nearly as much fun as the Christmas ones. It was hard to relax with Hermione next to you reciting the twelve uses of dragon’s blood or practising wand movements. Moaning and yawning, Harry and Ron spent most of their free time in the library with her, trying to get through all their extra work. “I’ll never remember this,” Ron burst out one afternoon, throwing down his quill and looking longingly out of the library window. It was the first really fine day they’d had in months. The sky was a clear, forget-me-not blue and there was a feeling in the air of summer coming. Harry, who was looking up “Dittany” in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi , didn’t look up until he heard Ron say,<|quote|>“Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?”</|quote|>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?” “Oh, we found out who he is ages ago,” said Ron impressively. “And we know what that dog’s guarding, it’s a Philosopher’s St–” “Shhhh!” Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening. “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,”<|speaker|> | Ron Weasley | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Unfortunately, the teachers seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Hermione. They piled so much homework on them that the Easter holidays weren’t nearly as much fun as the Christmas ones. It was hard to relax with Hermione next to you reciting the twelve uses of dragon’s blood or practising wand movements. Moaning and yawning, Harry and Ron spent most of their free time in the library with her, trying to get through all their extra work. “I’ll never remember this,” Ron burst out one afternoon, throwing down his quill and looking longingly out of the library window. It was the first really fine day they’d had in months. The sky was a clear, forget-me-not blue and there was a feeling in the air of summer coming. Harry, who was looking up “Dittany” in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi , didn’t look up until he heard Ron say,<|quote|>“Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?”</|quote|>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?” “Oh, we found out who he is ages ago,” said Ron impressively. “And we know what that dog’s guarding, it’s a Philosopher’s St–” “Shhhh!” Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening. “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,”<|speaker|>Ron Weasley<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Unfortunately, the teachers seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Hermione. They piled so much homework on them that the Easter holidays weren’t nearly as much fun as the Christmas ones. It was hard to relax with Hermione next to you reciting the twelve uses of dragon’s blood or practising wand movements. Moaning and yawning, Harry and Ron spent most of their free time in the library with her, trying to get through all their extra work. “I’ll never remember this,” Ron burst out one afternoon, throwing down his quill and looking longingly out of the library window. It was the first really fine day they’d had in months. The sky was a clear, forget-me-not blue and there was a feeling in the air of summer coming. Harry, who was looking up “Dittany” in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi , didn’t look up until he heard Ron say,<|quote|>“Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?”</|quote|>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?” “Oh, we found out who he is ages ago,” said Ron impressively. “And we know what that dog’s guarding, it’s a Philosopher’s St–” “Shhhh!” Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening. “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,”<|speaker|> | <|context|>Unfortunately, the teachers seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Hermione. They piled so much homework on them that the Easter holidays weren’t nearly as much fun as the Christmas ones. It was hard to relax with Hermione next to you reciting the twelve uses of dragon’s blood or practising wand movements. Moaning and yawning, Harry and Ron spent most of their free time in the library with her, trying to get through all their extra work. “I’ll never remember this,” Ron burst out one afternoon, throwing down his quill and looking longingly out of the library window. It was the first really fine day they’d had in months. The sky was a clear, forget-me-not blue and there was a feeling in the air of summer coming. Harry, who was looking up “Dittany” in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi , didn’t look up until he heard Ron say,<|quote|>“Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?”</|quote|>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?” “Oh, we found out who he is ages ago,” said Ron impressively. “And we know what that dog’s guarding, it’s a Philosopher’s St–” “Shhhh!” Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening. “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,”<|speaker|>Ron Weasley | <|context|>Unfortunately, the teachers seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Hermione. They piled so much homework on them that the Easter holidays weren’t nearly as much fun as the Christmas ones. It was hard to relax with Hermione next to you reciting the twelve uses of dragon’s blood or practising wand movements. Moaning and yawning, Harry and Ron spent most of their free time in the library with her, trying to get through all their extra work. “I’ll never remember this,” Ron burst out one afternoon, throwing down his quill and looking longingly out of the library window. It was the first really fine day they’d had in months. The sky was a clear, forget-me-not blue and there was a feeling in the air of summer coming. Harry, who was looking up “Dittany” in One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi , didn’t look up until he heard Ron say,<|quote|>“Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?”</|quote|>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?” “Oh, we found out who he is ages ago,” said Ron impressively. “And we know what that dog’s guarding, it’s a Philosopher’s St–” “Shhhh!” Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening. “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,”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>The rock cakes almost broke their teeth, but Harry and Ron pretended to be enjoying them as th ey told Hagrid all about their first lessons. Fang rested his head on Harry’s knee and drooled all over his robes. Harry and Ron were delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch “that old git” . “An’ as fer that cat, Mrs Norris, I’d like ter introduce her to Fang some time. D’yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can’t get rid of her – Filch puts her up to it.” Harry told Hagrid about Snape’s le sson. Hagrid, like Ron, told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape lik ed hardly any of the students. “But he seemed to really hate me.” “Rubbish!” said Hagrid. “Why should he?”<|quote|>Yet Harry couldn’t help thinking th at Hagrid didn’t quite meet his eyes when he said that.</|quote|>“How’s yer brother Charlie?” Hagrid asked Ron. “I liked him a lot – great with animals.” Harry wondered if Hagrid had ch anged the subject on purpose. While Ron told Hagrid all about Charlie’s work with dragons, Harry picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cosy. It was a cutting from the Daily Prophet: GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of dark wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts’ goblins today insist ed that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day. “But we’re not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what’s good for you,”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>The rock cakes almost broke their teeth, but Harry and Ron pretended to be enjoying them as th ey told Hagrid all about their first lessons. Fang rested his head on Harry’s knee and drooled all over his robes. Harry and Ron were delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch “that old git” . “An’ as fer that cat, Mrs Norris, I’d like ter introduce her to Fang some time. D’yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can’t get rid of her – Filch puts her up to it.” Harry told Hagrid about Snape’s le sson. Hagrid, like Ron, told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape lik ed hardly any of the students. “But he seemed to really hate me.” “Rubbish!” said Hagrid. “Why should he?”<|quote|>Yet Harry couldn’t help thinking th at Hagrid didn’t quite meet his eyes when he said that.</|quote|>“How’s yer brother Charlie?” Hagrid asked Ron. “I liked him a lot – great with animals.” Harry wondered if Hagrid had ch anged the subject on purpose. While Ron told Hagrid all about Charlie’s work with dragons, Harry picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cosy. It was a cutting from the Daily Prophet: GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of dark wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts’ goblins today insist ed that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day. “But we’re not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what’s good for you,”<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>The rock cakes almost broke their teeth, but Harry and Ron pretended to be enjoying them as th ey told Hagrid all about their first lessons. Fang rested his head on Harry’s knee and drooled all over his robes. Harry and Ron were delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch “that old git” . “An’ as fer that cat, Mrs Norris, I’d like ter introduce her to Fang some time. D’yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can’t get rid of her – Filch puts her up to it.” Harry told Hagrid about Snape’s le sson. Hagrid, like Ron, told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape lik ed hardly any of the students. “But he seemed to really hate me.” “Rubbish!” said Hagrid. “Why should he?”<|quote|>Yet Harry couldn’t help thinking th at Hagrid didn’t quite meet his eyes when he said that.</|quote|>“How’s yer brother Charlie?” Hagrid asked Ron. “I liked him a lot – great with animals.” Harry wondered if Hagrid had ch anged the subject on purpose. While Ron told Hagrid all about Charlie’s work with dragons, Harry picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cosy. It was a cutting from the Daily Prophet: GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of dark wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts’ goblins today insist ed that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day. “But we’re not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what’s good for you,”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>The rock cakes almost broke their teeth, but Harry and Ron pretended to be enjoying them as th ey told Hagrid all about their first lessons. Fang rested his head on Harry’s knee and drooled all over his robes. Harry and Ron were delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch “that old git” . “An’ as fer that cat, Mrs Norris, I’d like ter introduce her to Fang some time. D’yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can’t get rid of her – Filch puts her up to it.” Harry told Hagrid about Snape’s le sson. Hagrid, like Ron, told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape lik ed hardly any of the students. “But he seemed to really hate me.” “Rubbish!” said Hagrid. “Why should he?”<|quote|>Yet Harry couldn’t help thinking th at Hagrid didn’t quite meet his eyes when he said that.</|quote|>“How’s yer brother Charlie?” Hagrid asked Ron. “I liked him a lot – great with animals.” Harry wondered if Hagrid had ch anged the subject on purpose. While Ron told Hagrid all about Charlie’s work with dragons, Harry picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cosy. It was a cutting from the Daily Prophet: GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of dark wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts’ goblins today insist ed that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day. “But we’re not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what’s good for you,”<|speaker|> | <|context|>The rock cakes almost broke their teeth, but Harry and Ron pretended to be enjoying them as th ey told Hagrid all about their first lessons. Fang rested his head on Harry’s knee and drooled all over his robes. Harry and Ron were delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch “that old git” . “An’ as fer that cat, Mrs Norris, I’d like ter introduce her to Fang some time. D’yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can’t get rid of her – Filch puts her up to it.” Harry told Hagrid about Snape’s le sson. Hagrid, like Ron, told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape lik ed hardly any of the students. “But he seemed to really hate me.” “Rubbish!” said Hagrid. “Why should he?”<|quote|>Yet Harry couldn’t help thinking th at Hagrid didn’t quite meet his eyes when he said that.</|quote|>“How’s yer brother Charlie?” Hagrid asked Ron. “I liked him a lot – great with animals.” Harry wondered if Hagrid had ch anged the subject on purpose. While Ron told Hagrid all about Charlie’s work with dragons, Harry picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cosy. It was a cutting from the Daily Prophet: GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of dark wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts’ goblins today insist ed that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day. “But we’re not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what’s good for you,”<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>The rock cakes almost broke their teeth, but Harry and Ron pretended to be enjoying them as th ey told Hagrid all about their first lessons. Fang rested his head on Harry’s knee and drooled all over his robes. Harry and Ron were delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch “that old git” . “An’ as fer that cat, Mrs Norris, I’d like ter introduce her to Fang some time. D’yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can’t get rid of her – Filch puts her up to it.” Harry told Hagrid about Snape’s le sson. Hagrid, like Ron, told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape lik ed hardly any of the students. “But he seemed to really hate me.” “Rubbish!” said Hagrid. “Why should he?”<|quote|>Yet Harry couldn’t help thinking th at Hagrid didn’t quite meet his eyes when he said that.</|quote|>“How’s yer brother Charlie?” Hagrid asked Ron. “I liked him a lot – great with animals.” Harry wondered if Hagrid had ch anged the subject on purpose. While Ron told Hagrid all about Charlie’s work with dragons, Harry picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cosy. It was a cutting from the Daily Prophet: GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of dark wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts’ goblins today insist ed that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day. “But we’re not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what’s good for you,”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>he heard Quirrell sob. Next second, Quirrell came hurrying out of the classroom, straightening his turban. He was pa le and looked as though he was about to cry. He strode out of si ght; Harry didn’t think Quirrell had even noticed him. He waited until Quirrell’s footsteps had disappeared, then peered into the classroom. It wa s empty, but a door stood ajar at the other end. Harry was halfway towards it before he remembered what he’d promised himself about not meddling. All the same, he’d have gambled twelve Philosopher’s Stones that Snape had just left the room, and from what Harry had just heard, Snape would be walking with a new spring in his step – Quirrell seemed to have given in at last. Harry went back to the library, where Hermione was testing Ron on Astronomy. Harry told them what he’d heard.<|quote|>“Snape’s done it, then!”</|quote|>said Ron. “If Quirrell’s told him how to break his Anti-Dark Force spell –” “There’s still Fluffy, though,” said Hermione. “Maybe Snape’s found out how to get past him without asking Hagrid,” said Ron, looking up at the thousands of books surrounding them. “I bet there’s a book somewh ere in here, telling you how to get past a giant three-headed dog. So what do we do, Harry?” The light of adventure was kindling again in Ron’s eyes, but Hermione answered before Harry could. “Go to Dumbledore. That’s what we should have done ages ago. If we try anything ourselves we’ ll be thrown out for sure.”<|speaker|>Ron Weasley<eos> | <bos><|context|>he heard Quirrell sob. Next second, Quirrell came hurrying out of the classroom, straightening his turban. He was pa le and looked as though he was about to cry. He strode out of si ght; Harry didn’t think Quirrell had even noticed him. He waited until Quirrell’s footsteps had disappeared, then peered into the classroom. It wa s empty, but a door stood ajar at the other end. Harry was halfway towards it before he remembered what he’d promised himself about not meddling. All the same, he’d have gambled twelve Philosopher’s Stones that Snape had just left the room, and from what Harry had just heard, Snape would be walking with a new spring in his step – Quirrell seemed to have given in at last. Harry went back to the library, where Hermione was testing Ron on Astronomy. Harry told them what he’d heard.<|quote|>“Snape’s done it, then!”</|quote|>said Ron. “If Quirrell’s told him how to break his Anti-Dark Force spell –” “There’s still Fluffy, though,” said Hermione. “Maybe Snape’s found out how to get past him without asking Hagrid,” said Ron, looking up at the thousands of books surrounding them. “I bet there’s a book somewh ere in here, telling you how to get past a giant three-headed dog. So what do we do, Harry?” The light of adventure was kindling again in Ron’s eyes, but Hermione answered before Harry could. “Go to Dumbledore. That’s what we should have done ages ago. If we try anything ourselves we’ ll be thrown out for sure.”<|speaker|> | Ron Weasley | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>he heard Quirrell sob. Next second, Quirrell came hurrying out of the classroom, straightening his turban. He was pa le and looked as though he was about to cry. He strode out of si ght; Harry didn’t think Quirrell had even noticed him. He waited until Quirrell’s footsteps had disappeared, then peered into the classroom. It wa s empty, but a door stood ajar at the other end. Harry was halfway towards it before he remembered what he’d promised himself about not meddling. All the same, he’d have gambled twelve Philosopher’s Stones that Snape had just left the room, and from what Harry had just heard, Snape would be walking with a new spring in his step – Quirrell seemed to have given in at last. Harry went back to the library, where Hermione was testing Ron on Astronomy. Harry told them what he’d heard.<|quote|>“Snape’s done it, then!”</|quote|>said Ron. “If Quirrell’s told him how to break his Anti-Dark Force spell –” “There’s still Fluffy, though,” said Hermione. “Maybe Snape’s found out how to get past him without asking Hagrid,” said Ron, looking up at the thousands of books surrounding them. “I bet there’s a book somewh ere in here, telling you how to get past a giant three-headed dog. So what do we do, Harry?” The light of adventure was kindling again in Ron’s eyes, but Hermione answered before Harry could. “Go to Dumbledore. That’s what we should have done ages ago. If we try anything ourselves we’ ll be thrown out for sure.”<|speaker|>Ron Weasley<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>he heard Quirrell sob. Next second, Quirrell came hurrying out of the classroom, straightening his turban. He was pa le and looked as though he was about to cry. He strode out of si ght; Harry didn’t think Quirrell had even noticed him. He waited until Quirrell’s footsteps had disappeared, then peered into the classroom. It wa s empty, but a door stood ajar at the other end. Harry was halfway towards it before he remembered what he’d promised himself about not meddling. All the same, he’d have gambled twelve Philosopher’s Stones that Snape had just left the room, and from what Harry had just heard, Snape would be walking with a new spring in his step – Quirrell seemed to have given in at last. Harry went back to the library, where Hermione was testing Ron on Astronomy. Harry told them what he’d heard.<|quote|>“Snape’s done it, then!”</|quote|>said Ron. “If Quirrell’s told him how to break his Anti-Dark Force spell –” “There’s still Fluffy, though,” said Hermione. “Maybe Snape’s found out how to get past him without asking Hagrid,” said Ron, looking up at the thousands of books surrounding them. “I bet there’s a book somewh ere in here, telling you how to get past a giant three-headed dog. So what do we do, Harry?” The light of adventure was kindling again in Ron’s eyes, but Hermione answered before Harry could. “Go to Dumbledore. That’s what we should have done ages ago. If we try anything ourselves we’ ll be thrown out for sure.”<|speaker|> | <|context|>he heard Quirrell sob. Next second, Quirrell came hurrying out of the classroom, straightening his turban. He was pa le and looked as though he was about to cry. He strode out of si ght; Harry didn’t think Quirrell had even noticed him. He waited until Quirrell’s footsteps had disappeared, then peered into the classroom. It wa s empty, but a door stood ajar at the other end. Harry was halfway towards it before he remembered what he’d promised himself about not meddling. All the same, he’d have gambled twelve Philosopher’s Stones that Snape had just left the room, and from what Harry had just heard, Snape would be walking with a new spring in his step – Quirrell seemed to have given in at last. Harry went back to the library, where Hermione was testing Ron on Astronomy. Harry told them what he’d heard.<|quote|>“Snape’s done it, then!”</|quote|>said Ron. “If Quirrell’s told him how to break his Anti-Dark Force spell –” “There’s still Fluffy, though,” said Hermione. “Maybe Snape’s found out how to get past him without asking Hagrid,” said Ron, looking up at the thousands of books surrounding them. “I bet there’s a book somewh ere in here, telling you how to get past a giant three-headed dog. So what do we do, Harry?” The light of adventure was kindling again in Ron’s eyes, but Hermione answered before Harry could. “Go to Dumbledore. That’s what we should have done ages ago. If we try anything ourselves we’ ll be thrown out for sure.”<|speaker|>Ron Weasley | <|context|>he heard Quirrell sob. Next second, Quirrell came hurrying out of the classroom, straightening his turban. He was pa le and looked as though he was about to cry. He strode out of si ght; Harry didn’t think Quirrell had even noticed him. He waited until Quirrell’s footsteps had disappeared, then peered into the classroom. It wa s empty, but a door stood ajar at the other end. Harry was halfway towards it before he remembered what he’d promised himself about not meddling. All the same, he’d have gambled twelve Philosopher’s Stones that Snape had just left the room, and from what Harry had just heard, Snape would be walking with a new spring in his step – Quirrell seemed to have given in at last. Harry went back to the library, where Hermione was testing Ron on Astronomy. Harry told them what he’d heard.<|quote|>“Snape’s done it, then!”</|quote|>said Ron. “If Quirrell’s told him how to break his Anti-Dark Force spell –” “There’s still Fluffy, though,” said Hermione. “Maybe Snape’s found out how to get past him without asking Hagrid,” said Ron, looking up at the thousands of books surrounding them. “I bet there’s a book somewh ere in here, telling you how to get past a giant three-headed dog. So what do we do, Harry?” The light of adventure was kindling again in Ron’s eyes, but Hermione answered before Harry could. “Go to Dumbledore. That’s what we should have done ages ago. If we try anything ourselves we’ ll be thrown out for sure.”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>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 sandwiches. Harry went out into the corridor. He had never had any money for sweets 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 Bolt’s Every-Flavour Beans, Droobles Best Blowing Gum, Choc olate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Liquorice Wands and a number of other strange things Harry had never seen in his life. Not wanting 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 a ll back into the compartment and tipped it on to an empty seat. “Hungry, are you?”<|quote|>“Starving,”</|quote|>said Harry, taking a la rge bite out of a pumpkin pasty. Ron had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches in there. He pulle d 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, it’s all dry,” said Ron. “She hasn’t got much time,” he added quickly, “you know, with five of us.” “Go on, have a pasty,” said Harry, who had never had anything to share before or, indeed, anyone to sh are it with. It was a nice feeling, sitting there with Ron, eating thei r way through all Harry’s pasties and cakes (the sandwiches lay forgotten).<|speaker|>Harry Potter<eos> | <bos><|context|>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 sandwiches. Harry went out into the corridor. He had never had any money for sweets 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 Bolt’s Every-Flavour Beans, Droobles Best Blowing Gum, Choc olate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Liquorice Wands and a number of other strange things Harry had never seen in his life. Not wanting 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 a ll back into the compartment and tipped it on to an empty seat. “Hungry, are you?”<|quote|>“Starving,”</|quote|>said Harry, taking a la rge bite out of a pumpkin pasty. Ron had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches in there. He pulle d 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, it’s all dry,” said Ron. “She hasn’t got much time,” he added quickly, “you know, with five of us.” “Go on, have a pasty,” said Harry, who had never had anything to share before or, indeed, anyone to sh are it with. It was a nice feeling, sitting there with Ron, eating thei r way through all Harry’s pasties and cakes (the sandwiches lay forgotten).<|speaker|> | Harry Potter | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>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 sandwiches. Harry went out into the corridor. He had never had any money for sweets 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 Bolt’s Every-Flavour Beans, Droobles Best Blowing Gum, Choc olate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Liquorice Wands and a number of other strange things Harry had never seen in his life. Not wanting 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 a ll back into the compartment and tipped it on to an empty seat. “Hungry, are you?”<|quote|>“Starving,”</|quote|>said Harry, taking a la rge bite out of a pumpkin pasty. Ron had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches in there. He pulle d 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, it’s all dry,” said Ron. “She hasn’t got much time,” he added quickly, “you know, with five of us.” “Go on, have a pasty,” said Harry, who had never had anything to share before or, indeed, anyone to sh are it with. It was a nice feeling, sitting there with Ron, eating thei r way through all Harry’s pasties and cakes (the sandwiches lay forgotten).<|speaker|>Harry Potter<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>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 sandwiches. Harry went out into the corridor. He had never had any money for sweets 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 Bolt’s Every-Flavour Beans, Droobles Best Blowing Gum, Choc olate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Liquorice Wands and a number of other strange things Harry had never seen in his life. Not wanting 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 a ll back into the compartment and tipped it on to an empty seat. “Hungry, are you?”<|quote|>“Starving,”</|quote|>said Harry, taking a la rge bite out of a pumpkin pasty. Ron had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches in there. He pulle d 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, it’s all dry,” said Ron. “She hasn’t got much time,” he added quickly, “you know, with five of us.” “Go on, have a pasty,” said Harry, who had never had anything to share before or, indeed, anyone to sh are it with. It was a nice feeling, sitting there with Ron, eating thei r way through all Harry’s pasties and cakes (the sandwiches lay forgotten).<|speaker|> | <|context|>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 sandwiches. Harry went out into the corridor. He had never had any money for sweets 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 Bolt’s Every-Flavour Beans, Droobles Best Blowing Gum, Choc olate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Liquorice Wands and a number of other strange things Harry had never seen in his life. Not wanting 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 a ll back into the compartment and tipped it on to an empty seat. “Hungry, are you?”<|quote|>“Starving,”</|quote|>said Harry, taking a la rge bite out of a pumpkin pasty. Ron had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches in there. He pulle d 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, it’s all dry,” said Ron. “She hasn’t got much time,” he added quickly, “you know, with five of us.” “Go on, have a pasty,” said Harry, who had never had anything to share before or, indeed, anyone to sh are it with. It was a nice feeling, sitting there with Ron, eating thei r way through all Harry’s pasties and cakes (the sandwiches lay forgotten).<|speaker|>Harry Potter | <|context|>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 sandwiches. Harry went out into the corridor. He had never had any money for sweets 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 Bolt’s Every-Flavour Beans, Droobles Best Blowing Gum, Choc olate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Liquorice Wands and a number of other strange things Harry had never seen in his life. Not wanting 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 a ll back into the compartment and tipped it on to an empty seat. “Hungry, are you?”<|quote|>“Starving,”</|quote|>said Harry, taking a la rge bite out of a pumpkin pasty. Ron had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches in there. He pulle d 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, it’s all dry,” said Ron. “She hasn’t got much time,” he added quickly, “you know, with five of us.” “Go on, have a pasty,” said Harry, who had never had anything to share before or, indeed, anyone to sh are it with. It was a nice feeling, sitting there with Ron, eating thei r way through all Harry’s pasties and cakes (the sandwiches lay forgotten).<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“Flitwick told me in secret that I got a hundred and twelve per cent on his exam. “They’re not throwing me out after that.” * After dinner the three of them sat nervously apart in the common room. Nobody bothered them; none of the Gryffindors had anything to say to Harry any more, after all. This was the first night he hadn’t been upset by it. Hermione was skimming through all her notes, hoping to come across one of the en chantments they were about to try and break. Harry and Ron didn’t talk much. Both of them were thinking about what they were about to do. Slowly, the room emptied as people drifted off to bed.<|quote|>“Better get the Cloak,”</|quote|>Ron muttered, as Lee Jordan finally left, stretching and yawning. Harry ran upst airs to their dark dormitory. He pulled out the Cloak and then his eyes fell on the flute Hagrid had given him for Christmas. He pocketed it to use on Fluffy – he didn’t feel much like singing. He ran back down to the common room. “We’d better put the Cloak on here, and make sure it covers all three of us – if Filch spots one of our feet wandering along on its own–”<|speaker|>Ron Weasley<eos> | <bos><|context|>“Flitwick told me in secret that I got a hundred and twelve per cent on his exam. “They’re not throwing me out after that.” * After dinner the three of them sat nervously apart in the common room. Nobody bothered them; none of the Gryffindors had anything to say to Harry any more, after all. This was the first night he hadn’t been upset by it. Hermione was skimming through all her notes, hoping to come across one of the en chantments they were about to try and break. Harry and Ron didn’t talk much. Both of them were thinking about what they were about to do. Slowly, the room emptied as people drifted off to bed.<|quote|>“Better get the Cloak,”</|quote|>Ron muttered, as Lee Jordan finally left, stretching and yawning. Harry ran upst airs to their dark dormitory. He pulled out the Cloak and then his eyes fell on the flute Hagrid had given him for Christmas. He pocketed it to use on Fluffy – he didn’t feel much like singing. He ran back down to the common room. “We’d better put the Cloak on here, and make sure it covers all three of us – if Filch spots one of our feet wandering along on its own–”<|speaker|> | Ron Weasley | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Flitwick told me in secret that I got a hundred and twelve per cent on his exam. “They’re not throwing me out after that.” * After dinner the three of them sat nervously apart in the common room. Nobody bothered them; none of the Gryffindors had anything to say to Harry any more, after all. This was the first night he hadn’t been upset by it. Hermione was skimming through all her notes, hoping to come across one of the en chantments they were about to try and break. Harry and Ron didn’t talk much. Both of them were thinking about what they were about to do. Slowly, the room emptied as people drifted off to bed.<|quote|>“Better get the Cloak,”</|quote|>Ron muttered, as Lee Jordan finally left, stretching and yawning. Harry ran upst airs to their dark dormitory. He pulled out the Cloak and then his eyes fell on the flute Hagrid had given him for Christmas. He pocketed it to use on Fluffy – he didn’t feel much like singing. He ran back down to the common room. “We’d better put the Cloak on here, and make sure it covers all three of us – if Filch spots one of our feet wandering along on its own–”<|speaker|>Ron Weasley<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Flitwick told me in secret that I got a hundred and twelve per cent on his exam. “They’re not throwing me out after that.” * After dinner the three of them sat nervously apart in the common room. Nobody bothered them; none of the Gryffindors had anything to say to Harry any more, after all. This was the first night he hadn’t been upset by it. Hermione was skimming through all her notes, hoping to come across one of the en chantments they were about to try and break. Harry and Ron didn’t talk much. Both of them were thinking about what they were about to do. Slowly, the room emptied as people drifted off to bed.<|quote|>“Better get the Cloak,”</|quote|>Ron muttered, as Lee Jordan finally left, stretching and yawning. Harry ran upst airs to their dark dormitory. He pulled out the Cloak and then his eyes fell on the flute Hagrid had given him for Christmas. He pocketed it to use on Fluffy – he didn’t feel much like singing. He ran back down to the common room. “We’d better put the Cloak on here, and make sure it covers all three of us – if Filch spots one of our feet wandering along on its own–”<|speaker|> | <|context|>“Flitwick told me in secret that I got a hundred and twelve per cent on his exam. “They’re not throwing me out after that.” * After dinner the three of them sat nervously apart in the common room. Nobody bothered them; none of the Gryffindors had anything to say to Harry any more, after all. This was the first night he hadn’t been upset by it. Hermione was skimming through all her notes, hoping to come across one of the en chantments they were about to try and break. Harry and Ron didn’t talk much. Both of them were thinking about what they were about to do. Slowly, the room emptied as people drifted off to bed.<|quote|>“Better get the Cloak,”</|quote|>Ron muttered, as Lee Jordan finally left, stretching and yawning. Harry ran upst airs to their dark dormitory. He pulled out the Cloak and then his eyes fell on the flute Hagrid had given him for Christmas. He pocketed it to use on Fluffy – he didn’t feel much like singing. He ran back down to the common room. “We’d better put the Cloak on here, and make sure it covers all three of us – if Filch spots one of our feet wandering along on its own–”<|speaker|>Ron Weasley | <|context|>“Flitwick told me in secret that I got a hundred and twelve per cent on his exam. “They’re not throwing me out after that.” * After dinner the three of them sat nervously apart in the common room. Nobody bothered them; none of the Gryffindors had anything to say to Harry any more, after all. This was the first night he hadn’t been upset by it. Hermione was skimming through all her notes, hoping to come across one of the en chantments they were about to try and break. Harry and Ron didn’t talk much. Both of them were thinking about what they were about to do. Slowly, the room emptied as people drifted off to bed.<|quote|>“Better get the Cloak,”</|quote|>Ron muttered, as Lee Jordan finally left, stretching and yawning. Harry ran upst airs to their dark dormitory. He pulled out the Cloak and then his eyes fell on the flute Hagrid had given him for Christmas. He pocketed it to use on Fluffy – he didn’t feel much like singing. He ran back down to the common room. “We’d better put the Cloak on here, and make sure it covers all three of us – if Filch spots one of our feet wandering along on its own–”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“Who’s there?” he said suddenly as they climbed towards him. He narrowed his wicked black eyes. “Know you’re there, even if I can’t see you. Are you ghoulie or ghostie or wee student beastie?” He rose up in the air and floated there, squinting at them. “Should call Filch, I should, if something’s a-creeping around unseen.” Harry had a sudden idea. “Peeves,” he said, in a hoarse whisper, “the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible.” Peeves almost fell out of the air in shock. He caught himself in time and hovered about a foot off the stairs. “So sorry, your bloodiness, Mr Baron, sir,”<|quote|>he said greasily.</|quote|>“My mistake, my mistake – I didn’t see you – of course I didn’t, you’re invisible – forgive old Peevsie his little joke, sir.” “I have business here, Peeves,” croaked Harry. “Stay away from this place tonight.” “I will, sir, I most certainly will,” said Peeves, rising up in the air again. “Hope your business goes well, Baron, I’ll not bother you.” And he scooted off. “Brilliant , Harry!” whispered Ron. A few seconds later, they were there, outside the third-floor corridor – and the door was already ajar. “Well, there you are,” Harry said quietly. “Snape’s already got past Fluffy.” Seeing the open door somehow s eemed to impress upon all three of them what was facing them. Unde rneath the Cloak, Harry turned to the other two.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>“Who’s there?” he said suddenly as they climbed towards him. He narrowed his wicked black eyes. “Know you’re there, even if I can’t see you. Are you ghoulie or ghostie or wee student beastie?” He rose up in the air and floated there, squinting at them. “Should call Filch, I should, if something’s a-creeping around unseen.” Harry had a sudden idea. “Peeves,” he said, in a hoarse whisper, “the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible.” Peeves almost fell out of the air in shock. He caught himself in time and hovered about a foot off the stairs. “So sorry, your bloodiness, Mr Baron, sir,”<|quote|>he said greasily.</|quote|>“My mistake, my mistake – I didn’t see you – of course I didn’t, you’re invisible – forgive old Peevsie his little joke, sir.” “I have business here, Peeves,” croaked Harry. “Stay away from this place tonight.” “I will, sir, I most certainly will,” said Peeves, rising up in the air again. “Hope your business goes well, Baron, I’ll not bother you.” And he scooted off. “Brilliant , Harry!” whispered Ron. A few seconds later, they were there, outside the third-floor corridor – and the door was already ajar. “Well, there you are,” Harry said quietly. “Snape’s already got past Fluffy.” Seeing the open door somehow s eemed to impress upon all three of them what was facing them. Unde rneath the Cloak, Harry turned to the other two.<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Who’s there?” he said suddenly as they climbed towards him. He narrowed his wicked black eyes. “Know you’re there, even if I can’t see you. Are you ghoulie or ghostie or wee student beastie?” He rose up in the air and floated there, squinting at them. “Should call Filch, I should, if something’s a-creeping around unseen.” Harry had a sudden idea. “Peeves,” he said, in a hoarse whisper, “the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible.” Peeves almost fell out of the air in shock. He caught himself in time and hovered about a foot off the stairs. “So sorry, your bloodiness, Mr Baron, sir,”<|quote|>he said greasily.</|quote|>“My mistake, my mistake – I didn’t see you – of course I didn’t, you’re invisible – forgive old Peevsie his little joke, sir.” “I have business here, Peeves,” croaked Harry. “Stay away from this place tonight.” “I will, sir, I most certainly will,” said Peeves, rising up in the air again. “Hope your business goes well, Baron, I’ll not bother you.” And he scooted off. “Brilliant , Harry!” whispered Ron. A few seconds later, they were there, outside the third-floor corridor – and the door was already ajar. “Well, there you are,” Harry said quietly. “Snape’s already got past Fluffy.” Seeing the open door somehow s eemed to impress upon all three of them what was facing them. Unde rneath the Cloak, Harry turned to the other two.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Who’s there?” he said suddenly as they climbed towards him. He narrowed his wicked black eyes. “Know you’re there, even if I can’t see you. Are you ghoulie or ghostie or wee student beastie?” He rose up in the air and floated there, squinting at them. “Should call Filch, I should, if something’s a-creeping around unseen.” Harry had a sudden idea. “Peeves,” he said, in a hoarse whisper, “the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible.” Peeves almost fell out of the air in shock. He caught himself in time and hovered about a foot off the stairs. “So sorry, your bloodiness, Mr Baron, sir,”<|quote|>he said greasily.</|quote|>“My mistake, my mistake – I didn’t see you – of course I didn’t, you’re invisible – forgive old Peevsie his little joke, sir.” “I have business here, Peeves,” croaked Harry. “Stay away from this place tonight.” “I will, sir, I most certainly will,” said Peeves, rising up in the air again. “Hope your business goes well, Baron, I’ll not bother you.” And he scooted off. “Brilliant , Harry!” whispered Ron. A few seconds later, they were there, outside the third-floor corridor – and the door was already ajar. “Well, there you are,” Harry said quietly. “Snape’s already got past Fluffy.” Seeing the open door somehow s eemed to impress upon all three of them what was facing them. Unde rneath the Cloak, Harry turned to the other two.<|speaker|> | <|context|>“Who’s there?” he said suddenly as they climbed towards him. He narrowed his wicked black eyes. “Know you’re there, even if I can’t see you. Are you ghoulie or ghostie or wee student beastie?” He rose up in the air and floated there, squinting at them. “Should call Filch, I should, if something’s a-creeping around unseen.” Harry had a sudden idea. “Peeves,” he said, in a hoarse whisper, “the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible.” Peeves almost fell out of the air in shock. He caught himself in time and hovered about a foot off the stairs. “So sorry, your bloodiness, Mr Baron, sir,”<|quote|>he said greasily.</|quote|>“My mistake, my mistake – I didn’t see you – of course I didn’t, you’re invisible – forgive old Peevsie his little joke, sir.” “I have business here, Peeves,” croaked Harry. “Stay away from this place tonight.” “I will, sir, I most certainly will,” said Peeves, rising up in the air again. “Hope your business goes well, Baron, I’ll not bother you.” And he scooted off. “Brilliant , Harry!” whispered Ron. A few seconds later, they were there, outside the third-floor corridor – and the door was already ajar. “Well, there you are,” Harry said quietly. “Snape’s already got past Fluffy.” Seeing the open door somehow s eemed to impress upon all three of them what was facing them. Unde rneath the Cloak, Harry turned to the other two.<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>“Who’s there?” he said suddenly as they climbed towards him. He narrowed his wicked black eyes. “Know you’re there, even if I can’t see you. Are you ghoulie or ghostie or wee student beastie?” He rose up in the air and floated there, squinting at them. “Should call Filch, I should, if something’s a-creeping around unseen.” Harry had a sudden idea. “Peeves,” he said, in a hoarse whisper, “the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible.” Peeves almost fell out of the air in shock. He caught himself in time and hovered about a foot off the stairs. “So sorry, your bloodiness, Mr Baron, sir,”<|quote|>he said greasily.</|quote|>“My mistake, my mistake – I didn’t see you – of course I didn’t, you’re invisible – forgive old Peevsie his little joke, sir.” “I have business here, Peeves,” croaked Harry. “Stay away from this place tonight.” “I will, sir, I most certainly will,” said Peeves, rising up in the air again. “Hope your business goes well, Baron, I’ll not bother you.” And he scooted off. “Brilliant , Harry!” whispered Ron. A few seconds later, they were there, outside the third-floor corridor – and the door was already ajar. “Well, there you are,” Harry said quietly. “Snape’s already got past Fluffy.” Seeing the open door somehow s eemed to impress upon all three of them what was facing them. Unde rneath the Cloak, Harry turned to the other two.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>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 realising 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 right famous at Hogwarts.” But Uncle Vernon wasn’t going to give in without a fight. “Haven’t I told you he’s not go ing?” he hissed.<|quote|>“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 –”</|quote|>“If he wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won’t stop him,” growled Hagrid. “Stop Lily an’ Jame s 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 –”<|speaker|>Uncle Vernon<eos> | <bos><|context|>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 realising 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 right famous at Hogwarts.” But Uncle Vernon wasn’t going to give in without a fight. “Haven’t I told you he’s not go ing?” he hissed.<|quote|>“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 –”</|quote|>“If he wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won’t stop him,” growled Hagrid. “Stop Lily an’ Jame s 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 –”<|speaker|> | Uncle Vernon | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>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 realising 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 right famous at Hogwarts.” But Uncle Vernon wasn’t going to give in without a fight. “Haven’t I told you he’s not go ing?” he hissed.<|quote|>“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 –”</|quote|>“If he wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won’t stop him,” growled Hagrid. “Stop Lily an’ Jame s 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 –”<|speaker|>Uncle Vernon<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>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 realising 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 right famous at Hogwarts.” But Uncle Vernon wasn’t going to give in without a fight. “Haven’t I told you he’s not go ing?” he hissed.<|quote|>“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 –”</|quote|>“If he wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won’t stop him,” growled Hagrid. “Stop Lily an’ Jame s 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 –”<|speaker|> | <|context|>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 realising 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 right famous at Hogwarts.” But Uncle Vernon wasn’t going to give in without a fight. “Haven’t I told you he’s not go ing?” he hissed.<|quote|>“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 –”</|quote|>“If he wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won’t stop him,” growled Hagrid. “Stop Lily an’ Jame s 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 –”<|speaker|>Uncle Vernon | <|context|>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 realising 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 right famous at Hogwarts.” But Uncle Vernon wasn’t going to give in without a fight. “Haven’t I told you he’s not go ing?” he hissed.<|quote|>“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 –”</|quote|>“If he wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won’t stop him,” growled Hagrid. “Stop Lily an’ Jame s 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 –”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>The minutes dragged by. Their ears seemed sharper than usual. Harry’s seemed to be picking up eve ry sigh of the wind, every cracking twig. What was going on? Where were the others? At last, a great crunching noise a nnounced Hagrid’s return. Malfoy, Neville and Fang were with him. Hagrid was fuming. Malfoy, it seemed, had sneaked up behind Neville and grabbed him for a joke. Neville had panicked and sent up the sparks. “We’ll be lucky ter catch anythin’ now, with the racket you two were makin’. Right, we’re changin’ groups – Neville, you stay with me an’ Hermione, Harry, you go with Fang an’ this idiot. I’m sorry,” Hagrid added in a whisper to Harry, “but he’ll have a harder time frightenin’ you, an’ we’ve gotta get this done.”<|quote|>So Harry set off into the heart of the Forest with Malfoy and Fang. They walked for nearly half an hour, deeper and deeper into the Forest, until the path became almost impossible to follow because the trees were so thick. Harry thought the blood seemed to be getting thicker. There were splashes on the roots of a tree, as though the poor creature had been thrashing around in pain close by. Harry could see a clearing ahead, through the tangle d branches of an ancient oak.</|quote|>“Look –” he murmured, holding out his arm to stop Malfoy. Something bright white was gleaming on the ground. They inched closer. It was the unicorn all right, and it was dead. Harry had never seen anything so beautiful and sad. Its lo ng slender legs were stuck out at odd angles where it had fallen and its mane was spread pearly white on the dark leaves. Harry had taken one step towards it when a slithering sound made him freeze where he stood. A bush on the edge of the clearing quivered … Then, out of the shadow s, a hooded figure came crawling across the ground like some stalking beast. Harry, Malfoy and Fang stood transfixed. The cloaked figure reached the unicorn, it lowered its head over the wound in the animal’s side, and began to drink its blood.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>The minutes dragged by. Their ears seemed sharper than usual. Harry’s seemed to be picking up eve ry sigh of the wind, every cracking twig. What was going on? Where were the others? At last, a great crunching noise a nnounced Hagrid’s return. Malfoy, Neville and Fang were with him. Hagrid was fuming. Malfoy, it seemed, had sneaked up behind Neville and grabbed him for a joke. Neville had panicked and sent up the sparks. “We’ll be lucky ter catch anythin’ now, with the racket you two were makin’. Right, we’re changin’ groups – Neville, you stay with me an’ Hermione, Harry, you go with Fang an’ this idiot. I’m sorry,” Hagrid added in a whisper to Harry, “but he’ll have a harder time frightenin’ you, an’ we’ve gotta get this done.”<|quote|>So Harry set off into the heart of the Forest with Malfoy and Fang. They walked for nearly half an hour, deeper and deeper into the Forest, until the path became almost impossible to follow because the trees were so thick. Harry thought the blood seemed to be getting thicker. There were splashes on the roots of a tree, as though the poor creature had been thrashing around in pain close by. Harry could see a clearing ahead, through the tangle d branches of an ancient oak.</|quote|>“Look –” he murmured, holding out his arm to stop Malfoy. Something bright white was gleaming on the ground. They inched closer. It was the unicorn all right, and it was dead. Harry had never seen anything so beautiful and sad. Its lo ng slender legs were stuck out at odd angles where it had fallen and its mane was spread pearly white on the dark leaves. Harry had taken one step towards it when a slithering sound made him freeze where he stood. A bush on the edge of the clearing quivered … Then, out of the shadow s, a hooded figure came crawling across the ground like some stalking beast. Harry, Malfoy and Fang stood transfixed. The cloaked figure reached the unicorn, it lowered its head over the wound in the animal’s side, and began to drink its blood.<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>The minutes dragged by. Their ears seemed sharper than usual. Harry’s seemed to be picking up eve ry sigh of the wind, every cracking twig. What was going on? Where were the others? At last, a great crunching noise a nnounced Hagrid’s return. Malfoy, Neville and Fang were with him. Hagrid was fuming. Malfoy, it seemed, had sneaked up behind Neville and grabbed him for a joke. Neville had panicked and sent up the sparks. “We’ll be lucky ter catch anythin’ now, with the racket you two were makin’. Right, we’re changin’ groups – Neville, you stay with me an’ Hermione, Harry, you go with Fang an’ this idiot. I’m sorry,” Hagrid added in a whisper to Harry, “but he’ll have a harder time frightenin’ you, an’ we’ve gotta get this done.”<|quote|>So Harry set off into the heart of the Forest with Malfoy and Fang. They walked for nearly half an hour, deeper and deeper into the Forest, until the path became almost impossible to follow because the trees were so thick. Harry thought the blood seemed to be getting thicker. There were splashes on the roots of a tree, as though the poor creature had been thrashing around in pain close by. Harry could see a clearing ahead, through the tangle d branches of an ancient oak.</|quote|>“Look –” he murmured, holding out his arm to stop Malfoy. Something bright white was gleaming on the ground. They inched closer. It was the unicorn all right, and it was dead. Harry had never seen anything so beautiful and sad. Its lo ng slender legs were stuck out at odd angles where it had fallen and its mane was spread pearly white on the dark leaves. Harry had taken one step towards it when a slithering sound made him freeze where he stood. A bush on the edge of the clearing quivered … Then, out of the shadow s, a hooded figure came crawling across the ground like some stalking beast. Harry, Malfoy and Fang stood transfixed. The cloaked figure reached the unicorn, it lowered its head over the wound in the animal’s side, and began to drink its blood.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>The minutes dragged by. Their ears seemed sharper than usual. Harry’s seemed to be picking up eve ry sigh of the wind, every cracking twig. What was going on? Where were the others? At last, a great crunching noise a nnounced Hagrid’s return. Malfoy, Neville and Fang were with him. Hagrid was fuming. Malfoy, it seemed, had sneaked up behind Neville and grabbed him for a joke. Neville had panicked and sent up the sparks. “We’ll be lucky ter catch anythin’ now, with the racket you two were makin’. Right, we’re changin’ groups – Neville, you stay with me an’ Hermione, Harry, you go with Fang an’ this idiot. I’m sorry,” Hagrid added in a whisper to Harry, “but he’ll have a harder time frightenin’ you, an’ we’ve gotta get this done.”<|quote|>So Harry set off into the heart of the Forest with Malfoy and Fang. They walked for nearly half an hour, deeper and deeper into the Forest, until the path became almost impossible to follow because the trees were so thick. Harry thought the blood seemed to be getting thicker. There were splashes on the roots of a tree, as though the poor creature had been thrashing around in pain close by. Harry could see a clearing ahead, through the tangle d branches of an ancient oak.</|quote|>“Look –” he murmured, holding out his arm to stop Malfoy. Something bright white was gleaming on the ground. They inched closer. It was the unicorn all right, and it was dead. Harry had never seen anything so beautiful and sad. Its lo ng slender legs were stuck out at odd angles where it had fallen and its mane was spread pearly white on the dark leaves. Harry had taken one step towards it when a slithering sound made him freeze where he stood. A bush on the edge of the clearing quivered … Then, out of the shadow s, a hooded figure came crawling across the ground like some stalking beast. Harry, Malfoy and Fang stood transfixed. The cloaked figure reached the unicorn, it lowered its head over the wound in the animal’s side, and began to drink its blood.<|speaker|> | <|context|>The minutes dragged by. Their ears seemed sharper than usual. Harry’s seemed to be picking up eve ry sigh of the wind, every cracking twig. What was going on? Where were the others? At last, a great crunching noise a nnounced Hagrid’s return. Malfoy, Neville and Fang were with him. Hagrid was fuming. Malfoy, it seemed, had sneaked up behind Neville and grabbed him for a joke. Neville had panicked and sent up the sparks. “We’ll be lucky ter catch anythin’ now, with the racket you two were makin’. Right, we’re changin’ groups – Neville, you stay with me an’ Hermione, Harry, you go with Fang an’ this idiot. I’m sorry,” Hagrid added in a whisper to Harry, “but he’ll have a harder time frightenin’ you, an’ we’ve gotta get this done.”<|quote|>So Harry set off into the heart of the Forest with Malfoy and Fang. They walked for nearly half an hour, deeper and deeper into the Forest, until the path became almost impossible to follow because the trees were so thick. Harry thought the blood seemed to be getting thicker. There were splashes on the roots of a tree, as though the poor creature had been thrashing around in pain close by. Harry could see a clearing ahead, through the tangle d branches of an ancient oak.</|quote|>“Look –” he murmured, holding out his arm to stop Malfoy. Something bright white was gleaming on the ground. They inched closer. It was the unicorn all right, and it was dead. Harry had never seen anything so beautiful and sad. Its lo ng slender legs were stuck out at odd angles where it had fallen and its mane was spread pearly white on the dark leaves. Harry had taken one step towards it when a slithering sound made him freeze where he stood. A bush on the edge of the clearing quivered … Then, out of the shadow s, a hooded figure came crawling across the ground like some stalking beast. Harry, Malfoy and Fang stood transfixed. The cloaked figure reached the unicorn, it lowered its head over the wound in the animal’s side, and began to drink its blood.<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>The minutes dragged by. Their ears seemed sharper than usual. Harry’s seemed to be picking up eve ry sigh of the wind, every cracking twig. What was going on? Where were the others? At last, a great crunching noise a nnounced Hagrid’s return. Malfoy, Neville and Fang were with him. Hagrid was fuming. Malfoy, it seemed, had sneaked up behind Neville and grabbed him for a joke. Neville had panicked and sent up the sparks. “We’ll be lucky ter catch anythin’ now, with the racket you two were makin’. Right, we’re changin’ groups – Neville, you stay with me an’ Hermione, Harry, you go with Fang an’ this idiot. I’m sorry,” Hagrid added in a whisper to Harry, “but he’ll have a harder time frightenin’ you, an’ we’ve gotta get this done.”<|quote|>So Harry set off into the heart of the Forest with Malfoy and Fang. They walked for nearly half an hour, deeper and deeper into the Forest, until the path became almost impossible to follow because the trees were so thick. Harry thought the blood seemed to be getting thicker. There were splashes on the roots of a tree, as though the poor creature had been thrashing around in pain close by. Harry could see a clearing ahead, through the tangle d branches of an ancient oak.</|quote|>“Look –” he murmured, holding out his arm to stop Malfoy. Something bright white was gleaming on the ground. They inched closer. It was the unicorn all right, and it was dead. Harry had never seen anything so beautiful and sad. Its lo ng slender legs were stuck out at odd angles where it had fallen and its mane was spread pearly white on the dark leaves. Harry had taken one step towards it when a slithering sound made him freeze where he stood. A bush on the edge of the clearing quivered … Then, out of the shadow s, a hooded figure came crawling across the ground like some stalking beast. Harry, Malfoy and Fang stood transfixed. The cloaked figure reached the unicorn, it lowered its head over the wound in the animal’s side, and began to drink its blood.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible.” Peeves almost fell out of the air in shock. He caught himself in time and hovered about a foot off the stairs. “So sorry, your bloodiness, Mr Baron, sir,” he said greasily. “My mistake, my mistake – I didn’t see you – of course I didn’t, you’re invisible – forgive old Peevsie his little joke, sir.” “I have business here, Peeves,” croaked Harry. “Stay away from this place tonight.” “I will, sir, I most certainly will,”<|quote|>said Peeves, rising up in the air again.</|quote|>“Hope your business goes well, Baron, I’ll not bother you.” And he scooted off. “Brilliant , Harry!” whispered Ron. A few seconds later, they were there, outside the third-floor corridor – and the door was already ajar. “Well, there you are,” Harry said quietly. “Snape’s already got past Fluffy.” Seeing the open door somehow s eemed to impress upon all three of them what was facing them. Unde rneath the Cloak, Harry turned to the other two. “If you want to go back, I won’t blame you,”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>“the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible.” Peeves almost fell out of the air in shock. He caught himself in time and hovered about a foot off the stairs. “So sorry, your bloodiness, Mr Baron, sir,” he said greasily. “My mistake, my mistake – I didn’t see you – of course I didn’t, you’re invisible – forgive old Peevsie his little joke, sir.” “I have business here, Peeves,” croaked Harry. “Stay away from this place tonight.” “I will, sir, I most certainly will,”<|quote|>said Peeves, rising up in the air again.</|quote|>“Hope your business goes well, Baron, I’ll not bother you.” And he scooted off. “Brilliant , Harry!” whispered Ron. A few seconds later, they were there, outside the third-floor corridor – and the door was already ajar. “Well, there you are,” Harry said quietly. “Snape’s already got past Fluffy.” Seeing the open door somehow s eemed to impress upon all three of them what was facing them. Unde rneath the Cloak, Harry turned to the other two. “If you want to go back, I won’t blame you,”<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible.” Peeves almost fell out of the air in shock. He caught himself in time and hovered about a foot off the stairs. “So sorry, your bloodiness, Mr Baron, sir,” he said greasily. “My mistake, my mistake – I didn’t see you – of course I didn’t, you’re invisible – forgive old Peevsie his little joke, sir.” “I have business here, Peeves,” croaked Harry. “Stay away from this place tonight.” “I will, sir, I most certainly will,”<|quote|>said Peeves, rising up in the air again.</|quote|>“Hope your business goes well, Baron, I’ll not bother you.” And he scooted off. “Brilliant , Harry!” whispered Ron. A few seconds later, they were there, outside the third-floor corridor – and the door was already ajar. “Well, there you are,” Harry said quietly. “Snape’s already got past Fluffy.” Seeing the open door somehow s eemed to impress upon all three of them what was facing them. Unde rneath the Cloak, Harry turned to the other two. “If you want to go back, I won’t blame you,”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible.” Peeves almost fell out of the air in shock. He caught himself in time and hovered about a foot off the stairs. “So sorry, your bloodiness, Mr Baron, sir,” he said greasily. “My mistake, my mistake – I didn’t see you – of course I didn’t, you’re invisible – forgive old Peevsie his little joke, sir.” “I have business here, Peeves,” croaked Harry. “Stay away from this place tonight.” “I will, sir, I most certainly will,”<|quote|>said Peeves, rising up in the air again.</|quote|>“Hope your business goes well, Baron, I’ll not bother you.” And he scooted off. “Brilliant , Harry!” whispered Ron. A few seconds later, they were there, outside the third-floor corridor – and the door was already ajar. “Well, there you are,” Harry said quietly. “Snape’s already got past Fluffy.” Seeing the open door somehow s eemed to impress upon all three of them what was facing them. Unde rneath the Cloak, Harry turned to the other two. “If you want to go back, I won’t blame you,”<|speaker|> | <|context|>“the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible.” Peeves almost fell out of the air in shock. He caught himself in time and hovered about a foot off the stairs. “So sorry, your bloodiness, Mr Baron, sir,” he said greasily. “My mistake, my mistake – I didn’t see you – of course I didn’t, you’re invisible – forgive old Peevsie his little joke, sir.” “I have business here, Peeves,” croaked Harry. “Stay away from this place tonight.” “I will, sir, I most certainly will,”<|quote|>said Peeves, rising up in the air again.</|quote|>“Hope your business goes well, Baron, I’ll not bother you.” And he scooted off. “Brilliant , Harry!” whispered Ron. A few seconds later, they were there, outside the third-floor corridor – and the door was already ajar. “Well, there you are,” Harry said quietly. “Snape’s already got past Fluffy.” Seeing the open door somehow s eemed to impress upon all three of them what was facing them. Unde rneath the Cloak, Harry turned to the other two. “If you want to go back, I won’t blame you,”<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>“the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible.” Peeves almost fell out of the air in shock. He caught himself in time and hovered about a foot off the stairs. “So sorry, your bloodiness, Mr Baron, sir,” he said greasily. “My mistake, my mistake – I didn’t see you – of course I didn’t, you’re invisible – forgive old Peevsie his little joke, sir.” “I have business here, Peeves,” croaked Harry. “Stay away from this place tonight.” “I will, sir, I most certainly will,”<|quote|>said Peeves, rising up in the air again.</|quote|>“Hope your business goes well, Baron, I’ll not bother you.” And he scooted off. “Brilliant , Harry!” whispered Ron. A few seconds later, they were there, outside the third-floor corridor – and the door was already ajar. “Well, there you are,” Harry said quietly. “Snape’s already got past Fluffy.” Seeing the open door somehow s eemed to impress upon all three of them what was facing them. Unde rneath the Cloak, Harry turned to the other two. “If you want to go back, I won’t blame you,”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>Harry felt as though his insides had turned to ice. He looked behind him. Sitting on one of the desks by the wall was none other than Albus Dumbledore. Harry must have walked straight past him, so desperate to get to the mirror he hadn’t noticed him. “I – I didn’t see you, sir.” “Strange how short-sighted being invisible can make you,” said Dumbledore, and Harry was relieved to see that he was smiling. “So,” said Dumbledore, slipping off the desk to sit on the floor with Harry, “you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised.” “I didn’t know it was called that, sir.” “But I expect you’ve realised by now what it does?” “It – well – it shows me my family –” “And it showed your friend Ron himself as Head Boy.” “How did you know –?” “I don’t need a cloak to become invisible,” said Dumbledore gently.<|quote|>“Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?”</|quote|>Harry shook his head. “Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?” Harry thought. Then he said slowly , “It shows us what we want … whatever we want …” “Yes and no,” said Dumbledore quietly. “It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desp erate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the be st of all of them. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they ha ve seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.<|speaker|>Albus Dumbledore<eos> | <bos><|context|>Harry felt as though his insides had turned to ice. He looked behind him. Sitting on one of the desks by the wall was none other than Albus Dumbledore. Harry must have walked straight past him, so desperate to get to the mirror he hadn’t noticed him. “I – I didn’t see you, sir.” “Strange how short-sighted being invisible can make you,” said Dumbledore, and Harry was relieved to see that he was smiling. “So,” said Dumbledore, slipping off the desk to sit on the floor with Harry, “you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised.” “I didn’t know it was called that, sir.” “But I expect you’ve realised by now what it does?” “It – well – it shows me my family –” “And it showed your friend Ron himself as Head Boy.” “How did you know –?” “I don’t need a cloak to become invisible,” said Dumbledore gently.<|quote|>“Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?”</|quote|>Harry shook his head. “Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?” Harry thought. Then he said slowly , “It shows us what we want … whatever we want …” “Yes and no,” said Dumbledore quietly. “It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desp erate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the be st of all of them. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they ha ve seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.<|speaker|> | Albus Dumbledore | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Harry felt as though his insides had turned to ice. He looked behind him. Sitting on one of the desks by the wall was none other than Albus Dumbledore. Harry must have walked straight past him, so desperate to get to the mirror he hadn’t noticed him. “I – I didn’t see you, sir.” “Strange how short-sighted being invisible can make you,” said Dumbledore, and Harry was relieved to see that he was smiling. “So,” said Dumbledore, slipping off the desk to sit on the floor with Harry, “you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised.” “I didn’t know it was called that, sir.” “But I expect you’ve realised by now what it does?” “It – well – it shows me my family –” “And it showed your friend Ron himself as Head Boy.” “How did you know –?” “I don’t need a cloak to become invisible,” said Dumbledore gently.<|quote|>“Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?”</|quote|>Harry shook his head. “Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?” Harry thought. Then he said slowly , “It shows us what we want … whatever we want …” “Yes and no,” said Dumbledore quietly. “It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desp erate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the be st of all of them. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they ha ve seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.<|speaker|>Albus Dumbledore<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Harry felt as though his insides had turned to ice. He looked behind him. Sitting on one of the desks by the wall was none other than Albus Dumbledore. Harry must have walked straight past him, so desperate to get to the mirror he hadn’t noticed him. “I – I didn’t see you, sir.” “Strange how short-sighted being invisible can make you,” said Dumbledore, and Harry was relieved to see that he was smiling. “So,” said Dumbledore, slipping off the desk to sit on the floor with Harry, “you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised.” “I didn’t know it was called that, sir.” “But I expect you’ve realised by now what it does?” “It – well – it shows me my family –” “And it showed your friend Ron himself as Head Boy.” “How did you know –?” “I don’t need a cloak to become invisible,” said Dumbledore gently.<|quote|>“Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?”</|quote|>Harry shook his head. “Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?” Harry thought. Then he said slowly , “It shows us what we want … whatever we want …” “Yes and no,” said Dumbledore quietly. “It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desp erate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the be st of all of them. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they ha ve seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.<|speaker|> | <|context|>Harry felt as though his insides had turned to ice. He looked behind him. Sitting on one of the desks by the wall was none other than Albus Dumbledore. Harry must have walked straight past him, so desperate to get to the mirror he hadn’t noticed him. “I – I didn’t see you, sir.” “Strange how short-sighted being invisible can make you,” said Dumbledore, and Harry was relieved to see that he was smiling. “So,” said Dumbledore, slipping off the desk to sit on the floor with Harry, “you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised.” “I didn’t know it was called that, sir.” “But I expect you’ve realised by now what it does?” “It – well – it shows me my family –” “And it showed your friend Ron himself as Head Boy.” “How did you know –?” “I don’t need a cloak to become invisible,” said Dumbledore gently.<|quote|>“Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?”</|quote|>Harry shook his head. “Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?” Harry thought. Then he said slowly , “It shows us what we want … whatever we want …” “Yes and no,” said Dumbledore quietly. “It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desp erate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the be st of all of them. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they ha ve seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.<|speaker|>Albus Dumbledore | <|context|>Harry felt as though his insides had turned to ice. He looked behind him. Sitting on one of the desks by the wall was none other than Albus Dumbledore. Harry must have walked straight past him, so desperate to get to the mirror he hadn’t noticed him. “I – I didn’t see you, sir.” “Strange how short-sighted being invisible can make you,” said Dumbledore, and Harry was relieved to see that he was smiling. “So,” said Dumbledore, slipping off the desk to sit on the floor with Harry, “you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised.” “I didn’t know it was called that, sir.” “But I expect you’ve realised by now what it does?” “It – well – it shows me my family –” “And it showed your friend Ron himself as Head Boy.” “How did you know –?” “I don’t need a cloak to become invisible,” said Dumbledore gently.<|quote|>“Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?”</|quote|>Harry shook his head. “Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?” Harry thought. Then he said slowly , “It shows us what we want … whatever we want …” “Yes and no,” said Dumbledore quietly. “It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desp erate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the be st of all of them. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they ha ve seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“I’ve found Flamel! I told you I’d read the name somewhere before, I read it on the train coming here – listen to this: ‘Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelw ald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon’s blood and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel ’!” Hermione jumped to her feet. She hadn’t looked so excited since they’d got back the marks for their very first piece of homework. “Stay there!” she said, and she sprint ed up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories. Harry and Ron barely had time to exchange mystified looks before she was dashing back, an enormous old book in her arms. “I never thought to look in here!”<|quote|>she whispered excitedly.</|quote|>“I got this out of the library weeks ag o for a bit of light reading.” “Light?” said Ron, but Hermione told him to be quiet until she’d looked something up, and started flicking frantically through the pages, muttering to herself. At last she found what she was looking for. “I knew it! I knew it!” “Are we allowed to speak yet?” said Ron grumpily. Hermione ignored him. “Nicolas Flamel,” she whispered dramatically, “is the only known maker of the Philosopher’s Stone !”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>“I’ve found Flamel! I told you I’d read the name somewhere before, I read it on the train coming here – listen to this: ‘Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelw ald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon’s blood and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel ’!” Hermione jumped to her feet. She hadn’t looked so excited since they’d got back the marks for their very first piece of homework. “Stay there!” she said, and she sprint ed up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories. Harry and Ron barely had time to exchange mystified looks before she was dashing back, an enormous old book in her arms. “I never thought to look in here!”<|quote|>she whispered excitedly.</|quote|>“I got this out of the library weeks ag o for a bit of light reading.” “Light?” said Ron, but Hermione told him to be quiet until she’d looked something up, and started flicking frantically through the pages, muttering to herself. At last she found what she was looking for. “I knew it! I knew it!” “Are we allowed to speak yet?” said Ron grumpily. Hermione ignored him. “Nicolas Flamel,” she whispered dramatically, “is the only known maker of the Philosopher’s Stone !”<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“I’ve found Flamel! I told you I’d read the name somewhere before, I read it on the train coming here – listen to this: ‘Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelw ald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon’s blood and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel ’!” Hermione jumped to her feet. She hadn’t looked so excited since they’d got back the marks for their very first piece of homework. “Stay there!” she said, and she sprint ed up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories. Harry and Ron barely had time to exchange mystified looks before she was dashing back, an enormous old book in her arms. “I never thought to look in here!”<|quote|>she whispered excitedly.</|quote|>“I got this out of the library weeks ag o for a bit of light reading.” “Light?” said Ron, but Hermione told him to be quiet until she’d looked something up, and started flicking frantically through the pages, muttering to herself. At last she found what she was looking for. “I knew it! I knew it!” “Are we allowed to speak yet?” said Ron grumpily. Hermione ignored him. “Nicolas Flamel,” she whispered dramatically, “is the only known maker of the Philosopher’s Stone !”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“I’ve found Flamel! I told you I’d read the name somewhere before, I read it on the train coming here – listen to this: ‘Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelw ald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon’s blood and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel ’!” Hermione jumped to her feet. She hadn’t looked so excited since they’d got back the marks for their very first piece of homework. “Stay there!” she said, and she sprint ed up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories. Harry and Ron barely had time to exchange mystified looks before she was dashing back, an enormous old book in her arms. “I never thought to look in here!”<|quote|>she whispered excitedly.</|quote|>“I got this out of the library weeks ag o for a bit of light reading.” “Light?” said Ron, but Hermione told him to be quiet until she’d looked something up, and started flicking frantically through the pages, muttering to herself. At last she found what she was looking for. “I knew it! I knew it!” “Are we allowed to speak yet?” said Ron grumpily. Hermione ignored him. “Nicolas Flamel,” she whispered dramatically, “is the only known maker of the Philosopher’s Stone !”<|speaker|> | <|context|>“I’ve found Flamel! I told you I’d read the name somewhere before, I read it on the train coming here – listen to this: ‘Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelw ald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon’s blood and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel ’!” Hermione jumped to her feet. She hadn’t looked so excited since they’d got back the marks for their very first piece of homework. “Stay there!” she said, and she sprint ed up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories. Harry and Ron barely had time to exchange mystified looks before she was dashing back, an enormous old book in her arms. “I never thought to look in here!”<|quote|>she whispered excitedly.</|quote|>“I got this out of the library weeks ag o for a bit of light reading.” “Light?” said Ron, but Hermione told him to be quiet until she’d looked something up, and started flicking frantically through the pages, muttering to herself. At last she found what she was looking for. “I knew it! I knew it!” “Are we allowed to speak yet?” said Ron grumpily. Hermione ignored him. “Nicolas Flamel,” she whispered dramatically, “is the only known maker of the Philosopher’s Stone !”<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>“I’ve found Flamel! I told you I’d read the name somewhere before, I read it on the train coming here – listen to this: ‘Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelw ald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon’s blood and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel ’!” Hermione jumped to her feet. She hadn’t looked so excited since they’d got back the marks for their very first piece of homework. “Stay there!” she said, and she sprint ed up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories. Harry and Ron barely had time to exchange mystified looks before she was dashing back, an enormous old book in her arms. “I never thought to look in here!”<|quote|>she whispered excitedly.</|quote|>“I got this out of the library weeks ag o for a bit of light reading.” “Light?” said Ron, but Hermione told him to be quiet until she’d looked something up, and started flicking frantically through the pages, muttering to herself. At last she found what she was looking for. “I knew it! I knew it!” “Are we allowed to speak yet?” said Ron grumpily. Hermione ignored him. “Nicolas Flamel,” she whispered dramatically, “is the only known maker of the Philosopher’s Stone !”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>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 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.<|quote|>“Harry – yer a wizard.”</|quote|>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 a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress Questions exploded inside Harry’s he ad like fireworks and he couldn’t decide which to ask first. After a few minutes he stammered,<|speaker|>Hagrid<eos> | <bos><|context|>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 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.<|quote|>“Harry – yer a wizard.”</|quote|>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 a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress Questions exploded inside Harry’s he ad like fireworks and he couldn’t decide which to ask first. After a few minutes he stammered,<|speaker|> | Hagrid | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>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 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.<|quote|>“Harry – yer a wizard.”</|quote|>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 a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress Questions exploded inside Harry’s he ad like fireworks and he couldn’t decide which to ask first. After a few minutes he stammered,<|speaker|>Hagrid<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>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 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.<|quote|>“Harry – yer a wizard.”</|quote|>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 a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress Questions exploded inside Harry’s he ad like fireworks and he couldn’t decide which to ask first. After a few minutes he stammered,<|speaker|> | <|context|>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 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.<|quote|>“Harry – yer a wizard.”</|quote|>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 a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress Questions exploded inside Harry’s he ad like fireworks and he couldn’t decide which to ask first. After a few minutes he stammered,<|speaker|>Hagrid | <|context|>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 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.<|quote|>“Harry – yer a wizard.”</|quote|>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 a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress Questions exploded inside Harry’s he ad like fireworks and he couldn’t decide which to ask first. After a few minutes he stammered,<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>And in the end, Hagrid agreed th at they could send an owl to Charlie to ask him. * The following week dragged by. We dnesday night found Hermione and Harry sitting alone in the common room, long after everyone else had gone to bed. The clock on the wall had just chimed midnight when the portrait hole burst open. Ron appear ed out of nowhere as he pulled off Harry’s Invisibility Cloak. He had b een down at Hagrid’s hut, helping him feed Norbert, who was now eating dead rats by the crate. “It bit me!” he said, showing them his hand, which was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief. “I’m not going to be able to hold a quill for a week. I tell you, that dragon’s the mo st horrible animal I’ve ever met, but the way Hagrid goes on about it , you’d think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me he told me off for frightening it. And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby.” There was a tap on the dark window.<|quote|>“It’s Hedwig!”</|quote|>said Harry, hurrying to let her in. “She’ll have Charlie’s answer!” The three of them put their head s together to read the note. Dear Ron, How are you? Thanks for the letter – I’d be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won’t be easy getting him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming to visit me next week. Trouble is, they mustn’t be seen carrying an illegal dragon. Could you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it’s still dark. Send me an answer as soon as possible. Love, Charlie They looked at each other.<|speaker|>Harry Potter<eos> | <bos><|context|>And in the end, Hagrid agreed th at they could send an owl to Charlie to ask him. * The following week dragged by. We dnesday night found Hermione and Harry sitting alone in the common room, long after everyone else had gone to bed. The clock on the wall had just chimed midnight when the portrait hole burst open. Ron appear ed out of nowhere as he pulled off Harry’s Invisibility Cloak. He had b een down at Hagrid’s hut, helping him feed Norbert, who was now eating dead rats by the crate. “It bit me!” he said, showing them his hand, which was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief. “I’m not going to be able to hold a quill for a week. I tell you, that dragon’s the mo st horrible animal I’ve ever met, but the way Hagrid goes on about it , you’d think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me he told me off for frightening it. And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby.” There was a tap on the dark window.<|quote|>“It’s Hedwig!”</|quote|>said Harry, hurrying to let her in. “She’ll have Charlie’s answer!” The three of them put their head s together to read the note. Dear Ron, How are you? Thanks for the letter – I’d be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won’t be easy getting him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming to visit me next week. Trouble is, they mustn’t be seen carrying an illegal dragon. Could you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it’s still dark. Send me an answer as soon as possible. Love, Charlie They looked at each other.<|speaker|> | Harry Potter | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>And in the end, Hagrid agreed th at they could send an owl to Charlie to ask him. * The following week dragged by. We dnesday night found Hermione and Harry sitting alone in the common room, long after everyone else had gone to bed. The clock on the wall had just chimed midnight when the portrait hole burst open. Ron appear ed out of nowhere as he pulled off Harry’s Invisibility Cloak. He had b een down at Hagrid’s hut, helping him feed Norbert, who was now eating dead rats by the crate. “It bit me!” he said, showing them his hand, which was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief. “I’m not going to be able to hold a quill for a week. I tell you, that dragon’s the mo st horrible animal I’ve ever met, but the way Hagrid goes on about it , you’d think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me he told me off for frightening it. And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby.” There was a tap on the dark window.<|quote|>“It’s Hedwig!”</|quote|>said Harry, hurrying to let her in. “She’ll have Charlie’s answer!” The three of them put their head s together to read the note. Dear Ron, How are you? Thanks for the letter – I’d be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won’t be easy getting him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming to visit me next week. Trouble is, they mustn’t be seen carrying an illegal dragon. Could you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it’s still dark. Send me an answer as soon as possible. Love, Charlie They looked at each other.<|speaker|>Harry Potter<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>And in the end, Hagrid agreed th at they could send an owl to Charlie to ask him. * The following week dragged by. We dnesday night found Hermione and Harry sitting alone in the common room, long after everyone else had gone to bed. The clock on the wall had just chimed midnight when the portrait hole burst open. Ron appear ed out of nowhere as he pulled off Harry’s Invisibility Cloak. He had b een down at Hagrid’s hut, helping him feed Norbert, who was now eating dead rats by the crate. “It bit me!” he said, showing them his hand, which was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief. “I’m not going to be able to hold a quill for a week. I tell you, that dragon’s the mo st horrible animal I’ve ever met, but the way Hagrid goes on about it , you’d think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me he told me off for frightening it. And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby.” There was a tap on the dark window.<|quote|>“It’s Hedwig!”</|quote|>said Harry, hurrying to let her in. “She’ll have Charlie’s answer!” The three of them put their head s together to read the note. Dear Ron, How are you? Thanks for the letter – I’d be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won’t be easy getting him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming to visit me next week. Trouble is, they mustn’t be seen carrying an illegal dragon. Could you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it’s still dark. Send me an answer as soon as possible. Love, Charlie They looked at each other.<|speaker|> | <|context|>And in the end, Hagrid agreed th at they could send an owl to Charlie to ask him. * The following week dragged by. We dnesday night found Hermione and Harry sitting alone in the common room, long after everyone else had gone to bed. The clock on the wall had just chimed midnight when the portrait hole burst open. Ron appear ed out of nowhere as he pulled off Harry’s Invisibility Cloak. He had b een down at Hagrid’s hut, helping him feed Norbert, who was now eating dead rats by the crate. “It bit me!” he said, showing them his hand, which was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief. “I’m not going to be able to hold a quill for a week. I tell you, that dragon’s the mo st horrible animal I’ve ever met, but the way Hagrid goes on about it , you’d think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me he told me off for frightening it. And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby.” There was a tap on the dark window.<|quote|>“It’s Hedwig!”</|quote|>said Harry, hurrying to let her in. “She’ll have Charlie’s answer!” The three of them put their head s together to read the note. Dear Ron, How are you? Thanks for the letter – I’d be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won’t be easy getting him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming to visit me next week. Trouble is, they mustn’t be seen carrying an illegal dragon. Could you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it’s still dark. Send me an answer as soon as possible. Love, Charlie They looked at each other.<|speaker|>Harry Potter | <|context|>And in the end, Hagrid agreed th at they could send an owl to Charlie to ask him. * The following week dragged by. We dnesday night found Hermione and Harry sitting alone in the common room, long after everyone else had gone to bed. The clock on the wall had just chimed midnight when the portrait hole burst open. Ron appear ed out of nowhere as he pulled off Harry’s Invisibility Cloak. He had b een down at Hagrid’s hut, helping him feed Norbert, who was now eating dead rats by the crate. “It bit me!” he said, showing them his hand, which was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief. “I’m not going to be able to hold a quill for a week. I tell you, that dragon’s the mo st horrible animal I’ve ever met, but the way Hagrid goes on about it , you’d think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me he told me off for frightening it. And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby.” There was a tap on the dark window.<|quote|>“It’s Hedwig!”</|quote|>said Harry, hurrying to let her in. “She’ll have Charlie’s answer!” The three of them put their head s together to read the note. Dear Ron, How are you? Thanks for the letter – I’d be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won’t be easy getting him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming to visit me next week. Trouble is, they mustn’t be seen carrying an illegal dragon. Could you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it’s still dark. Send me an answer as soon as possible. Love, Charlie They looked at each other.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“Yes,” said Harry. There was no point beating about the bush. “We were wondering if you could tell us what’s guarding the Philosopher’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 al ready, 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 migh t not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes on round here,”<|quote|>said Hermione in a warm, flattering voice. Hagrid’s beard twitched and they could tell he was smiling.</|quote|>“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 – Professor McGonagall –” he ticked them off on his fingers, “Professor Quirrell – an’ Dumbledore himself did somethin’, o’ course. Hang on, I’ve forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape.” “Snape?” “Yeah – yer not still on abou’ that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped protect the Stone, he’s not about ter steal it.”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>“Yes,” said Harry. There was no point beating about the bush. “We were wondering if you could tell us what’s guarding the Philosopher’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 al ready, 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 migh t not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes on round here,”<|quote|>said Hermione in a warm, flattering voice. Hagrid’s beard twitched and they could tell he was smiling.</|quote|>“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 – Professor McGonagall –” he ticked them off on his fingers, “Professor Quirrell – an’ Dumbledore himself did somethin’, o’ course. Hang on, I’ve forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape.” “Snape?” “Yeah – yer not still on abou’ that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped protect the Stone, he’s not about ter steal it.”<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Yes,” said Harry. There was no point beating about the bush. “We were wondering if you could tell us what’s guarding the Philosopher’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 al ready, 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 migh t not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes on round here,”<|quote|>said Hermione in a warm, flattering voice. Hagrid’s beard twitched and they could tell he was smiling.</|quote|>“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 – Professor McGonagall –” he ticked them off on his fingers, “Professor Quirrell – an’ Dumbledore himself did somethin’, o’ course. Hang on, I’ve forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape.” “Snape?” “Yeah – yer not still on abou’ that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped protect the Stone, he’s not about ter steal it.”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Yes,” said Harry. There was no point beating about the bush. “We were wondering if you could tell us what’s guarding the Philosopher’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 al ready, 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 migh t not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes on round here,”<|quote|>said Hermione in a warm, flattering voice. Hagrid’s beard twitched and they could tell he was smiling.</|quote|>“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 – Professor McGonagall –” he ticked them off on his fingers, “Professor Quirrell – an’ Dumbledore himself did somethin’, o’ course. Hang on, I’ve forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape.” “Snape?” “Yeah – yer not still on abou’ that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped protect the Stone, he’s not about ter steal it.”<|speaker|> | <|context|>“Yes,” said Harry. There was no point beating about the bush. “We were wondering if you could tell us what’s guarding the Philosopher’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 al ready, 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 migh t not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes on round here,”<|quote|>said Hermione in a warm, flattering voice. Hagrid’s beard twitched and they could tell he was smiling.</|quote|>“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 – Professor McGonagall –” he ticked them off on his fingers, “Professor Quirrell – an’ Dumbledore himself did somethin’, o’ course. Hang on, I’ve forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape.” “Snape?” “Yeah – yer not still on abou’ that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped protect the Stone, he’s not about ter steal it.”<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>“Yes,” said Harry. There was no point beating about the bush. “We were wondering if you could tell us what’s guarding the Philosopher’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 al ready, 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 migh t not want to tell us, but you do know, you know everything that goes on round here,”<|quote|>said Hermione in a warm, flattering voice. Hagrid’s beard twitched and they could tell he was smiling.</|quote|>“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 – Professor McGonagall –” he ticked them off on his fingers, “Professor Quirrell – an’ Dumbledore himself did somethin’, o’ course. Hang on, I’ve forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape.” “Snape?” “Yeah – yer not still on abou’ that, are yeh? Look, Snape helped protect the Stone, he’s not about ter steal it.”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“but the family thought I was all Muggle for ages. My great-uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me – he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned – but nothing happened until I was eight. Great-uncle Algie came round for tea and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my great-auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced – all the way do wn the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased. Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces wh en I got in here – they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great-uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad.” On Harry’s other side, Percy Weasley and Hermione were talking about lessons ( “I do hope they start straight away, there’s so much to learn, I’m particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it’s supposed to be very difficult –” ; “You’ll be starting sm all, just matches into needles and that sort of thing –”<|quote|>). Harry, who was starting to feel wa rm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was dr inking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose and sallow skin. It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell’s turban straight into Harry’s eyes – and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry’s forehead.</|quote|>“Ouch!” Harry clapped a hand to his head. “What is it?” asked Percy. “N-nothing.” The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had got from the teacher’s look – a feeling that he didn’t like Harry at all. “Who’s that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?” he asked Percy. “Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he’s looking so nervous, that’s Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn’t want to – everyone knows he’s afte r Quirrell’s job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape.” Harry watched Snape for a while but Snape didn’t look at him again. At last, the puddings too disappeared and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The Hall fell silent.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>“but the family thought I was all Muggle for ages. My great-uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me – he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned – but nothing happened until I was eight. Great-uncle Algie came round for tea and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my great-auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced – all the way do wn the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased. Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces wh en I got in here – they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great-uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad.” On Harry’s other side, Percy Weasley and Hermione were talking about lessons ( “I do hope they start straight away, there’s so much to learn, I’m particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it’s supposed to be very difficult –” ; “You’ll be starting sm all, just matches into needles and that sort of thing –”<|quote|>). Harry, who was starting to feel wa rm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was dr inking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose and sallow skin. It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell’s turban straight into Harry’s eyes – and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry’s forehead.</|quote|>“Ouch!” Harry clapped a hand to his head. “What is it?” asked Percy. “N-nothing.” The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had got from the teacher’s look – a feeling that he didn’t like Harry at all. “Who’s that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?” he asked Percy. “Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he’s looking so nervous, that’s Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn’t want to – everyone knows he’s afte r Quirrell’s job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape.” Harry watched Snape for a while but Snape didn’t look at him again. At last, the puddings too disappeared and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The Hall fell silent.<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“but the family thought I was all Muggle for ages. My great-uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me – he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned – but nothing happened until I was eight. Great-uncle Algie came round for tea and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my great-auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced – all the way do wn the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased. Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces wh en I got in here – they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great-uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad.” On Harry’s other side, Percy Weasley and Hermione were talking about lessons ( “I do hope they start straight away, there’s so much to learn, I’m particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it’s supposed to be very difficult –” ; “You’ll be starting sm all, just matches into needles and that sort of thing –”<|quote|>). Harry, who was starting to feel wa rm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was dr inking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose and sallow skin. It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell’s turban straight into Harry’s eyes – and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry’s forehead.</|quote|>“Ouch!” Harry clapped a hand to his head. “What is it?” asked Percy. “N-nothing.” The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had got from the teacher’s look – a feeling that he didn’t like Harry at all. “Who’s that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?” he asked Percy. “Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he’s looking so nervous, that’s Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn’t want to – everyone knows he’s afte r Quirrell’s job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape.” Harry watched Snape for a while but Snape didn’t look at him again. At last, the puddings too disappeared and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The Hall fell silent.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“but the family thought I was all Muggle for ages. My great-uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me – he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned – but nothing happened until I was eight. Great-uncle Algie came round for tea and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my great-auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced – all the way do wn the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased. Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces wh en I got in here – they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great-uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad.” On Harry’s other side, Percy Weasley and Hermione were talking about lessons ( “I do hope they start straight away, there’s so much to learn, I’m particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it’s supposed to be very difficult –” ; “You’ll be starting sm all, just matches into needles and that sort of thing –”<|quote|>). Harry, who was starting to feel wa rm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was dr inking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose and sallow skin. It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell’s turban straight into Harry’s eyes – and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry’s forehead.</|quote|>“Ouch!” Harry clapped a hand to his head. “What is it?” asked Percy. “N-nothing.” The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had got from the teacher’s look – a feeling that he didn’t like Harry at all. “Who’s that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?” he asked Percy. “Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he’s looking so nervous, that’s Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn’t want to – everyone knows he’s afte r Quirrell’s job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape.” Harry watched Snape for a while but Snape didn’t look at him again. At last, the puddings too disappeared and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The Hall fell silent.<|speaker|> | <|context|>“but the family thought I was all Muggle for ages. My great-uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me – he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned – but nothing happened until I was eight. Great-uncle Algie came round for tea and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my great-auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced – all the way do wn the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased. Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces wh en I got in here – they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great-uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad.” On Harry’s other side, Percy Weasley and Hermione were talking about lessons ( “I do hope they start straight away, there’s so much to learn, I’m particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it’s supposed to be very difficult –” ; “You’ll be starting sm all, just matches into needles and that sort of thing –”<|quote|>). Harry, who was starting to feel wa rm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was dr inking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose and sallow skin. It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell’s turban straight into Harry’s eyes – and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry’s forehead.</|quote|>“Ouch!” Harry clapped a hand to his head. “What is it?” asked Percy. “N-nothing.” The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had got from the teacher’s look – a feeling that he didn’t like Harry at all. “Who’s that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?” he asked Percy. “Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he’s looking so nervous, that’s Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn’t want to – everyone knows he’s afte r Quirrell’s job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape.” Harry watched Snape for a while but Snape didn’t look at him again. At last, the puddings too disappeared and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The Hall fell silent.<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>“but the family thought I was all Muggle for ages. My great-uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me – he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned – but nothing happened until I was eight. Great-uncle Algie came round for tea and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my great-auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced – all the way do wn the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased. Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces wh en I got in here – they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great-uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad.” On Harry’s other side, Percy Weasley and Hermione were talking about lessons ( “I do hope they start straight away, there’s so much to learn, I’m particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it’s supposed to be very difficult –” ; “You’ll be starting sm all, just matches into needles and that sort of thing –”<|quote|>). Harry, who was starting to feel wa rm and sleepy, looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was dr inking deeply from his goblet. Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore. Professor Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose and sallow skin. It happened very suddenly. The hook-nosed teacher looked past Quirrell’s turban straight into Harry’s eyes – and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry’s forehead.</|quote|>“Ouch!” Harry clapped a hand to his head. “What is it?” asked Percy. “N-nothing.” The pain had gone as quickly as it had come. Harder to shake off was the feeling Harry had got from the teacher’s look – a feeling that he didn’t like Harry at all. “Who’s that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?” he asked Percy. “Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he’s looking so nervous, that’s Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn’t want to – everyone knows he’s afte r Quirrell’s job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape.” Harry watched Snape for a while but Snape didn’t look at him again. At last, the puddings too disappeared and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The Hall fell silent.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>He wiped it on the troll’s trousers. A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the three of them look up. They hadn’t realised what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll’s roars. A moment later, Prof essor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Sn ape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the tr oll, let out a faint whimper and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart. Snape bent over the troll. Profe ssor McGonagall was looking at Ron and Harry. Harry had never seen her look so angry. Her lips were white. Hopes of winning fifty points for Gryffindor faded quickly from Harry’s mind. “What on earth were you thinking of?” said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. Harry l ooked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air. “You’re lucky you weren’t killed. Why aren’t you in your dormitory?”<|quote|>Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look. Harry looked at the floor. He wished Ron would put his wand down. Then a small voice came out of the shadows.</|quote|>“Please, Professor McGonagall – they were looking for me.” “Miss Granger!” Hermione had managed to get to her feet at last. “I went looking for the troll because I – I thought I could deal with it on my own – you know, becaus e I’ve read all about them.” Ron dropped his wand. Hermione Gr anger, telling a downright lie to a teacher? “If they hadn’t found me, I’d be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn’t have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived.”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>He wiped it on the troll’s trousers. A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the three of them look up. They hadn’t realised what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll’s roars. A moment later, Prof essor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Sn ape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the tr oll, let out a faint whimper and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart. Snape bent over the troll. Profe ssor McGonagall was looking at Ron and Harry. Harry had never seen her look so angry. Her lips were white. Hopes of winning fifty points for Gryffindor faded quickly from Harry’s mind. “What on earth were you thinking of?” said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. Harry l ooked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air. “You’re lucky you weren’t killed. Why aren’t you in your dormitory?”<|quote|>Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look. Harry looked at the floor. He wished Ron would put his wand down. Then a small voice came out of the shadows.</|quote|>“Please, Professor McGonagall – they were looking for me.” “Miss Granger!” Hermione had managed to get to her feet at last. “I went looking for the troll because I – I thought I could deal with it on my own – you know, becaus e I’ve read all about them.” Ron dropped his wand. Hermione Gr anger, telling a downright lie to a teacher? “If they hadn’t found me, I’d be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn’t have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived.”<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>He wiped it on the troll’s trousers. A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the three of them look up. They hadn’t realised what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll’s roars. A moment later, Prof essor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Sn ape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the tr oll, let out a faint whimper and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart. Snape bent over the troll. Profe ssor McGonagall was looking at Ron and Harry. Harry had never seen her look so angry. Her lips were white. Hopes of winning fifty points for Gryffindor faded quickly from Harry’s mind. “What on earth were you thinking of?” said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. Harry l ooked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air. “You’re lucky you weren’t killed. Why aren’t you in your dormitory?”<|quote|>Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look. Harry looked at the floor. He wished Ron would put his wand down. Then a small voice came out of the shadows.</|quote|>“Please, Professor McGonagall – they were looking for me.” “Miss Granger!” Hermione had managed to get to her feet at last. “I went looking for the troll because I – I thought I could deal with it on my own – you know, becaus e I’ve read all about them.” Ron dropped his wand. Hermione Gr anger, telling a downright lie to a teacher? “If they hadn’t found me, I’d be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn’t have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived.”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>He wiped it on the troll’s trousers. A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the three of them look up. They hadn’t realised what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll’s roars. A moment later, Prof essor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Sn ape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the tr oll, let out a faint whimper and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart. Snape bent over the troll. Profe ssor McGonagall was looking at Ron and Harry. Harry had never seen her look so angry. Her lips were white. Hopes of winning fifty points for Gryffindor faded quickly from Harry’s mind. “What on earth were you thinking of?” said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. Harry l ooked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air. “You’re lucky you weren’t killed. Why aren’t you in your dormitory?”<|quote|>Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look. Harry looked at the floor. He wished Ron would put his wand down. Then a small voice came out of the shadows.</|quote|>“Please, Professor McGonagall – they were looking for me.” “Miss Granger!” Hermione had managed to get to her feet at last. “I went looking for the troll because I – I thought I could deal with it on my own – you know, becaus e I’ve read all about them.” Ron dropped his wand. Hermione Gr anger, telling a downright lie to a teacher? “If they hadn’t found me, I’d be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn’t have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived.”<|speaker|> | <|context|>He wiped it on the troll’s trousers. A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the three of them look up. They hadn’t realised what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll’s roars. A moment later, Prof essor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Sn ape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the tr oll, let out a faint whimper and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart. Snape bent over the troll. Profe ssor McGonagall was looking at Ron and Harry. Harry had never seen her look so angry. Her lips were white. Hopes of winning fifty points for Gryffindor faded quickly from Harry’s mind. “What on earth were you thinking of?” said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. Harry l ooked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air. “You’re lucky you weren’t killed. Why aren’t you in your dormitory?”<|quote|>Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look. Harry looked at the floor. He wished Ron would put his wand down. Then a small voice came out of the shadows.</|quote|>“Please, Professor McGonagall – they were looking for me.” “Miss Granger!” Hermione had managed to get to her feet at last. “I went looking for the troll because I – I thought I could deal with it on my own – you know, becaus e I’ve read all about them.” Ron dropped his wand. Hermione Gr anger, telling a downright lie to a teacher? “If they hadn’t found me, I’d be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn’t have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived.”<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>He wiped it on the troll’s trousers. A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the three of them look up. They hadn’t realised what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll’s roars. A moment later, Prof essor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Sn ape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the tr oll, let out a faint whimper and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart. Snape bent over the troll. Profe ssor McGonagall was looking at Ron and Harry. Harry had never seen her look so angry. Her lips were white. Hopes of winning fifty points for Gryffindor faded quickly from Harry’s mind. “What on earth were you thinking of?” said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. Harry l ooked at Ron, who was still standing with his wand in the air. “You’re lucky you weren’t killed. Why aren’t you in your dormitory?”<|quote|>Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look. Harry looked at the floor. He wished Ron would put his wand down. Then a small voice came out of the shadows.</|quote|>“Please, Professor McGonagall – they were looking for me.” “Miss Granger!” Hermione had managed to get to her feet at last. “I went looking for the troll because I – I thought I could deal with it on my own – you know, becaus e I’ve read all about them.” Ron dropped his wand. Hermione Gr anger, telling a downright lie to a teacher? “If they hadn’t found me, I’d be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn’t have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived.”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>But he already knew what it was. In the very heart of the fire, underneath the kettle, was a huge, black egg. “Ah,” said Hagrid, fiddling nervously with his beard. “That’s – er …” “Where did you get it, Hagrid?” said Ron, crouching over the fire to get a closer look at the egg. “It must’ve cost you a fortune.” “Won it,” said Hagrid. “Las’ night. I was down in the village havin’ a few drinks an’ got into a game o’ cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest.” “But what are you going to do with it when it’s hatched?” said Hermione.<|quote|>“Well, I’ve bin doin’ some readin’, ”</|quote|>said Hagrid, pulling a large book from under his pillow. “Got this outta the library – Dragon-Breeding for Pleasure and Profit – it’s a bit outta date, o’ course, but it’s all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, ‘cause thei r mothers breathe on ’em, see, an’ when it hatches, feed it on a bu cket o’ brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. an’ see here – how ter recognise diff’rent eggs – what I got there’s a Norwegian Ridgeback. They’re rare, them.” He looked very pleased with himself, but Hermione didn’t.<|speaker|>Hagrid<eos> | <bos><|context|>But he already knew what it was. In the very heart of the fire, underneath the kettle, was a huge, black egg. “Ah,” said Hagrid, fiddling nervously with his beard. “That’s – er …” “Where did you get it, Hagrid?” said Ron, crouching over the fire to get a closer look at the egg. “It must’ve cost you a fortune.” “Won it,” said Hagrid. “Las’ night. I was down in the village havin’ a few drinks an’ got into a game o’ cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest.” “But what are you going to do with it when it’s hatched?” said Hermione.<|quote|>“Well, I’ve bin doin’ some readin’, ”</|quote|>said Hagrid, pulling a large book from under his pillow. “Got this outta the library – Dragon-Breeding for Pleasure and Profit – it’s a bit outta date, o’ course, but it’s all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, ‘cause thei r mothers breathe on ’em, see, an’ when it hatches, feed it on a bu cket o’ brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. an’ see here – how ter recognise diff’rent eggs – what I got there’s a Norwegian Ridgeback. They’re rare, them.” He looked very pleased with himself, but Hermione didn’t.<|speaker|> | Hagrid | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>But he already knew what it was. In the very heart of the fire, underneath the kettle, was a huge, black egg. “Ah,” said Hagrid, fiddling nervously with his beard. “That’s – er …” “Where did you get it, Hagrid?” said Ron, crouching over the fire to get a closer look at the egg. “It must’ve cost you a fortune.” “Won it,” said Hagrid. “Las’ night. I was down in the village havin’ a few drinks an’ got into a game o’ cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest.” “But what are you going to do with it when it’s hatched?” said Hermione.<|quote|>“Well, I’ve bin doin’ some readin’, ”</|quote|>said Hagrid, pulling a large book from under his pillow. “Got this outta the library – Dragon-Breeding for Pleasure and Profit – it’s a bit outta date, o’ course, but it’s all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, ‘cause thei r mothers breathe on ’em, see, an’ when it hatches, feed it on a bu cket o’ brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. an’ see here – how ter recognise diff’rent eggs – what I got there’s a Norwegian Ridgeback. They’re rare, them.” He looked very pleased with himself, but Hermione didn’t.<|speaker|>Hagrid<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>But he already knew what it was. In the very heart of the fire, underneath the kettle, was a huge, black egg. “Ah,” said Hagrid, fiddling nervously with his beard. “That’s – er …” “Where did you get it, Hagrid?” said Ron, crouching over the fire to get a closer look at the egg. “It must’ve cost you a fortune.” “Won it,” said Hagrid. “Las’ night. I was down in the village havin’ a few drinks an’ got into a game o’ cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest.” “But what are you going to do with it when it’s hatched?” said Hermione.<|quote|>“Well, I’ve bin doin’ some readin’, ”</|quote|>said Hagrid, pulling a large book from under his pillow. “Got this outta the library – Dragon-Breeding for Pleasure and Profit – it’s a bit outta date, o’ course, but it’s all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, ‘cause thei r mothers breathe on ’em, see, an’ when it hatches, feed it on a bu cket o’ brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. an’ see here – how ter recognise diff’rent eggs – what I got there’s a Norwegian Ridgeback. They’re rare, them.” He looked very pleased with himself, but Hermione didn’t.<|speaker|> | <|context|>But he already knew what it was. In the very heart of the fire, underneath the kettle, was a huge, black egg. “Ah,” said Hagrid, fiddling nervously with his beard. “That’s – er …” “Where did you get it, Hagrid?” said Ron, crouching over the fire to get a closer look at the egg. “It must’ve cost you a fortune.” “Won it,” said Hagrid. “Las’ night. I was down in the village havin’ a few drinks an’ got into a game o’ cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest.” “But what are you going to do with it when it’s hatched?” said Hermione.<|quote|>“Well, I’ve bin doin’ some readin’, ”</|quote|>said Hagrid, pulling a large book from under his pillow. “Got this outta the library – Dragon-Breeding for Pleasure and Profit – it’s a bit outta date, o’ course, but it’s all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, ‘cause thei r mothers breathe on ’em, see, an’ when it hatches, feed it on a bu cket o’ brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. an’ see here – how ter recognise diff’rent eggs – what I got there’s a Norwegian Ridgeback. They’re rare, them.” He looked very pleased with himself, but Hermione didn’t.<|speaker|>Hagrid | <|context|>But he already knew what it was. In the very heart of the fire, underneath the kettle, was a huge, black egg. “Ah,” said Hagrid, fiddling nervously with his beard. “That’s – er …” “Where did you get it, Hagrid?” said Ron, crouching over the fire to get a closer look at the egg. “It must’ve cost you a fortune.” “Won it,” said Hagrid. “Las’ night. I was down in the village havin’ a few drinks an’ got into a game o’ cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest.” “But what are you going to do with it when it’s hatched?” said Hermione.<|quote|>“Well, I’ve bin doin’ some readin’, ”</|quote|>said Hagrid, pulling a large book from under his pillow. “Got this outta the library – Dragon-Breeding for Pleasure and Profit – it’s a bit outta date, o’ course, but it’s all in here. Keep the egg in the fire, ‘cause thei r mothers breathe on ’em, see, an’ when it hatches, feed it on a bu cket o’ brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour. an’ see here – how ter recognise diff’rent eggs – what I got there’s a Norwegian Ridgeback. They’re rare, them.” He looked very pleased with himself, but Hermione didn’t.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>There was a pause. Then – SMASH! The door was hit with such force th at 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 th e 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.<|quote|>“Budge up, yeh great lump,”</|quote|>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 mum’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 the back of the sofa, jerked th e 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.<|speaker|>Hagrid<eos> | <bos><|context|>There was a pause. Then – SMASH! The door was hit with such force th at 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 th e 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.<|quote|>“Budge up, yeh great lump,”</|quote|>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 mum’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 the back of the sofa, jerked th e 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.<|speaker|> | Hagrid | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>There was a pause. Then – SMASH! The door was hit with such force th at 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 th e 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.<|quote|>“Budge up, yeh great lump,”</|quote|>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 mum’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 the back of the sofa, jerked th e 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.<|speaker|>Hagrid<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>There was a pause. Then – SMASH! The door was hit with such force th at 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 th e 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.<|quote|>“Budge up, yeh great lump,”</|quote|>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 mum’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 the back of the sofa, jerked th e 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.<|speaker|> | <|context|>There was a pause. Then – SMASH! The door was hit with such force th at 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 th e 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.<|quote|>“Budge up, yeh great lump,”</|quote|>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 mum’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 the back of the sofa, jerked th e 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.<|speaker|>Hagrid | <|context|>There was a pause. Then – SMASH! The door was hit with such force th at 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 th e 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.<|quote|>“Budge up, yeh great lump,”</|quote|>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 mum’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 the back of the sofa, jerked th e 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.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“You’re too nosy to live, Potter. Scurrying around the school at Hallowe’en like that, for all I knew you’d seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone.” “You let the troll in?” “Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls – you must have seen what I did to the one in the chambe r back there? Unfortunately, while everyone else was running around looking for it, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off – and not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that three-headed dog didn’t even manage to bite Snape’s leg off properly. “Now, wait quietly, Potter. I n eed to examine this interesting mirror.” It was only then that Harry rea lised what was standing behind Quirrell. It was the Mirror of Erised.<|quote|>“This mirror is the key to findin g the Stone,”</|quote|>Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around the frame. “T rust Dumbledore to come up with something like this … but he’s in London … I’ll be far away by the time he gets back …” All Harry could think of doing was to keep Quirrell talking and stop him concentrating on the Mirror. “I saw you and Snape in the Forest –” he blurted out. “Yes,” said Quirrell idly, walking around the Mirror to look at the back. “He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I’d got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me – as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side …”<|speaker|>Professor Quirrell<eos> | <bos><|context|>“You’re too nosy to live, Potter. Scurrying around the school at Hallowe’en like that, for all I knew you’d seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone.” “You let the troll in?” “Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls – you must have seen what I did to the one in the chambe r back there? Unfortunately, while everyone else was running around looking for it, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off – and not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that three-headed dog didn’t even manage to bite Snape’s leg off properly. “Now, wait quietly, Potter. I n eed to examine this interesting mirror.” It was only then that Harry rea lised what was standing behind Quirrell. It was the Mirror of Erised.<|quote|>“This mirror is the key to findin g the Stone,”</|quote|>Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around the frame. “T rust Dumbledore to come up with something like this … but he’s in London … I’ll be far away by the time he gets back …” All Harry could think of doing was to keep Quirrell talking and stop him concentrating on the Mirror. “I saw you and Snape in the Forest –” he blurted out. “Yes,” said Quirrell idly, walking around the Mirror to look at the back. “He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I’d got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me – as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side …”<|speaker|> | Professor Quirrell | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“You’re too nosy to live, Potter. Scurrying around the school at Hallowe’en like that, for all I knew you’d seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone.” “You let the troll in?” “Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls – you must have seen what I did to the one in the chambe r back there? Unfortunately, while everyone else was running around looking for it, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off – and not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that three-headed dog didn’t even manage to bite Snape’s leg off properly. “Now, wait quietly, Potter. I n eed to examine this interesting mirror.” It was only then that Harry rea lised what was standing behind Quirrell. It was the Mirror of Erised.<|quote|>“This mirror is the key to findin g the Stone,”</|quote|>Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around the frame. “T rust Dumbledore to come up with something like this … but he’s in London … I’ll be far away by the time he gets back …” All Harry could think of doing was to keep Quirrell talking and stop him concentrating on the Mirror. “I saw you and Snape in the Forest –” he blurted out. “Yes,” said Quirrell idly, walking around the Mirror to look at the back. “He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I’d got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me – as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side …”<|speaker|>Professor Quirrell<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“You’re too nosy to live, Potter. Scurrying around the school at Hallowe’en like that, for all I knew you’d seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone.” “You let the troll in?” “Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls – you must have seen what I did to the one in the chambe r back there? Unfortunately, while everyone else was running around looking for it, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off – and not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that three-headed dog didn’t even manage to bite Snape’s leg off properly. “Now, wait quietly, Potter. I n eed to examine this interesting mirror.” It was only then that Harry rea lised what was standing behind Quirrell. It was the Mirror of Erised.<|quote|>“This mirror is the key to findin g the Stone,”</|quote|>Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around the frame. “T rust Dumbledore to come up with something like this … but he’s in London … I’ll be far away by the time he gets back …” All Harry could think of doing was to keep Quirrell talking and stop him concentrating on the Mirror. “I saw you and Snape in the Forest –” he blurted out. “Yes,” said Quirrell idly, walking around the Mirror to look at the back. “He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I’d got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me – as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side …”<|speaker|> | <|context|>“You’re too nosy to live, Potter. Scurrying around the school at Hallowe’en like that, for all I knew you’d seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone.” “You let the troll in?” “Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls – you must have seen what I did to the one in the chambe r back there? Unfortunately, while everyone else was running around looking for it, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off – and not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that three-headed dog didn’t even manage to bite Snape’s leg off properly. “Now, wait quietly, Potter. I n eed to examine this interesting mirror.” It was only then that Harry rea lised what was standing behind Quirrell. It was the Mirror of Erised.<|quote|>“This mirror is the key to findin g the Stone,”</|quote|>Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around the frame. “T rust Dumbledore to come up with something like this … but he’s in London … I’ll be far away by the time he gets back …” All Harry could think of doing was to keep Quirrell talking and stop him concentrating on the Mirror. “I saw you and Snape in the Forest –” he blurted out. “Yes,” said Quirrell idly, walking around the Mirror to look at the back. “He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I’d got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me – as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side …”<|speaker|>Professor Quirrell | <|context|>“You’re too nosy to live, Potter. Scurrying around the school at Hallowe’en like that, for all I knew you’d seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone.” “You let the troll in?” “Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls – you must have seen what I did to the one in the chambe r back there? Unfortunately, while everyone else was running around looking for it, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off – and not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that three-headed dog didn’t even manage to bite Snape’s leg off properly. “Now, wait quietly, Potter. I n eed to examine this interesting mirror.” It was only then that Harry rea lised what was standing behind Quirrell. It was the Mirror of Erised.<|quote|>“This mirror is the key to findin g the Stone,”</|quote|>Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around the frame. “T rust Dumbledore to come up with something like this … but he’s in London … I’ll be far away by the time he gets back …” All Harry could think of doing was to keep Quirrell talking and stop him concentrating on the Mirror. “I saw you and Snape in the Forest –” he blurted out. “Yes,” said Quirrell idly, walking around the Mirror to look at the back. “He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I’d got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me – as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side …”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>She pulled the door wide. The Entrance Hall was so big you could have fitted the whole of the Dursleys’ house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the on es at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificen t marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors. They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right – the rest of the school mu st already be here – but Professor McGonagall showed the first-years in to a small empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.<|quote|>“Welcome to Hogwarts,”</|quote|>said Professor McGonagall. “The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Ho gwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room. “The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points , while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great hono ur. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.<|speaker|>Professor McGonagall<eos> | <bos><|context|>She pulled the door wide. The Entrance Hall was so big you could have fitted the whole of the Dursleys’ house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the on es at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificen t marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors. They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right – the rest of the school mu st already be here – but Professor McGonagall showed the first-years in to a small empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.<|quote|>“Welcome to Hogwarts,”</|quote|>said Professor McGonagall. “The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Ho gwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room. “The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points , while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great hono ur. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.<|speaker|> | Professor McGonagall | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>She pulled the door wide. The Entrance Hall was so big you could have fitted the whole of the Dursleys’ house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the on es at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificen t marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors. They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right – the rest of the school mu st already be here – but Professor McGonagall showed the first-years in to a small empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.<|quote|>“Welcome to Hogwarts,”</|quote|>said Professor McGonagall. “The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Ho gwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room. “The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points , while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great hono ur. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.<|speaker|>Professor McGonagall<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>She pulled the door wide. The Entrance Hall was so big you could have fitted the whole of the Dursleys’ house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the on es at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificen t marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors. They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right – the rest of the school mu st already be here – but Professor McGonagall showed the first-years in to a small empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.<|quote|>“Welcome to Hogwarts,”</|quote|>said Professor McGonagall. “The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Ho gwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room. “The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points , while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great hono ur. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.<|speaker|> | <|context|>She pulled the door wide. The Entrance Hall was so big you could have fitted the whole of the Dursleys’ house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the on es at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificen t marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors. They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right – the rest of the school mu st already be here – but Professor McGonagall showed the first-years in to a small empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.<|quote|>“Welcome to Hogwarts,”</|quote|>said Professor McGonagall. “The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Ho gwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room. “The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points , while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great hono ur. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.<|speaker|>Professor McGonagall | <|context|>She pulled the door wide. The Entrance Hall was so big you could have fitted the whole of the Dursleys’ house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the on es at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificen t marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors. They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right – the rest of the school mu st already be here – but Professor McGonagall showed the first-years in to a small empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.<|quote|>“Welcome to Hogwarts,”</|quote|>said Professor McGonagall. “The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Ho gwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room. “The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points , while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great hono ur. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>said Fred Weasley sadly); Hagrid was there to take them down to the fleet of boats that sailed across the lake; they were boarding the Hogwarts Express; talking and laughing as the countryside became greener and tidier; eating Bertie Bott’s Every- Flavour Beans as they sped past Muggle towns; pulling off their wizard robes and putting on jackets and coats; pulling into platform nine an d three-quarters at King’s Cross Station. It took quite a while for them all to get off the platform. A wizened old guard was up by the ticket barrier, letting them go through the gate in twos and threes so they didn ’t attract attention by all bursting out of a solid wall at once and alarming the Muggles. “You must come and stay this summer,” said Ron,<|quote|>“both of you – I’ll send you an owl.”</|quote|>“Thanks,” said Harry. “I’ll need something to look forward to.” People jostled them as they moved forwards towards the gateway back to the Muggle world. Some of them called: “Bye, Harry!” “See you, Potter!” “Still famous,” said Ron, grinning at him. “Not where I’m going, I promise you,” said Harry. He, Ron and Hermione passed through the gateway together. “There he is, Mum, there he is, look!” It was Ginny Weasley, Ron’s younger sister, but she wasn’t pointing at Ron.<|speaker|>Ron Weasley<eos> | <bos><|context|>said Fred Weasley sadly); Hagrid was there to take them down to the fleet of boats that sailed across the lake; they were boarding the Hogwarts Express; talking and laughing as the countryside became greener and tidier; eating Bertie Bott’s Every- Flavour Beans as they sped past Muggle towns; pulling off their wizard robes and putting on jackets and coats; pulling into platform nine an d three-quarters at King’s Cross Station. It took quite a while for them all to get off the platform. A wizened old guard was up by the ticket barrier, letting them go through the gate in twos and threes so they didn ’t attract attention by all bursting out of a solid wall at once and alarming the Muggles. “You must come and stay this summer,” said Ron,<|quote|>“both of you – I’ll send you an owl.”</|quote|>“Thanks,” said Harry. “I’ll need something to look forward to.” People jostled them as they moved forwards towards the gateway back to the Muggle world. Some of them called: “Bye, Harry!” “See you, Potter!” “Still famous,” said Ron, grinning at him. “Not where I’m going, I promise you,” said Harry. He, Ron and Hermione passed through the gateway together. “There he is, Mum, there he is, look!” It was Ginny Weasley, Ron’s younger sister, but she wasn’t pointing at Ron.<|speaker|> | Ron Weasley | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>said Fred Weasley sadly); Hagrid was there to take them down to the fleet of boats that sailed across the lake; they were boarding the Hogwarts Express; talking and laughing as the countryside became greener and tidier; eating Bertie Bott’s Every- Flavour Beans as they sped past Muggle towns; pulling off their wizard robes and putting on jackets and coats; pulling into platform nine an d three-quarters at King’s Cross Station. It took quite a while for them all to get off the platform. A wizened old guard was up by the ticket barrier, letting them go through the gate in twos and threes so they didn ’t attract attention by all bursting out of a solid wall at once and alarming the Muggles. “You must come and stay this summer,” said Ron,<|quote|>“both of you – I’ll send you an owl.”</|quote|>“Thanks,” said Harry. “I’ll need something to look forward to.” People jostled them as they moved forwards towards the gateway back to the Muggle world. Some of them called: “Bye, Harry!” “See you, Potter!” “Still famous,” said Ron, grinning at him. “Not where I’m going, I promise you,” said Harry. He, Ron and Hermione passed through the gateway together. “There he is, Mum, there he is, look!” It was Ginny Weasley, Ron’s younger sister, but she wasn’t pointing at Ron.<|speaker|>Ron Weasley<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>said Fred Weasley sadly); Hagrid was there to take them down to the fleet of boats that sailed across the lake; they were boarding the Hogwarts Express; talking and laughing as the countryside became greener and tidier; eating Bertie Bott’s Every- Flavour Beans as they sped past Muggle towns; pulling off their wizard robes and putting on jackets and coats; pulling into platform nine an d three-quarters at King’s Cross Station. It took quite a while for them all to get off the platform. A wizened old guard was up by the ticket barrier, letting them go through the gate in twos and threes so they didn ’t attract attention by all bursting out of a solid wall at once and alarming the Muggles. “You must come and stay this summer,” said Ron,<|quote|>“both of you – I’ll send you an owl.”</|quote|>“Thanks,” said Harry. “I’ll need something to look forward to.” People jostled them as they moved forwards towards the gateway back to the Muggle world. Some of them called: “Bye, Harry!” “See you, Potter!” “Still famous,” said Ron, grinning at him. “Not where I’m going, I promise you,” said Harry. He, Ron and Hermione passed through the gateway together. “There he is, Mum, there he is, look!” It was Ginny Weasley, Ron’s younger sister, but she wasn’t pointing at Ron.<|speaker|> | <|context|>said Fred Weasley sadly); Hagrid was there to take them down to the fleet of boats that sailed across the lake; they were boarding the Hogwarts Express; talking and laughing as the countryside became greener and tidier; eating Bertie Bott’s Every- Flavour Beans as they sped past Muggle towns; pulling off their wizard robes and putting on jackets and coats; pulling into platform nine an d three-quarters at King’s Cross Station. It took quite a while for them all to get off the platform. A wizened old guard was up by the ticket barrier, letting them go through the gate in twos and threes so they didn ’t attract attention by all bursting out of a solid wall at once and alarming the Muggles. “You must come and stay this summer,” said Ron,<|quote|>“both of you – I’ll send you an owl.”</|quote|>“Thanks,” said Harry. “I’ll need something to look forward to.” People jostled them as they moved forwards towards the gateway back to the Muggle world. Some of them called: “Bye, Harry!” “See you, Potter!” “Still famous,” said Ron, grinning at him. “Not where I’m going, I promise you,” said Harry. He, Ron and Hermione passed through the gateway together. “There he is, Mum, there he is, look!” It was Ginny Weasley, Ron’s younger sister, but she wasn’t pointing at Ron.<|speaker|>Ron Weasley | <|context|>said Fred Weasley sadly); Hagrid was there to take them down to the fleet of boats that sailed across the lake; they were boarding the Hogwarts Express; talking and laughing as the countryside became greener and tidier; eating Bertie Bott’s Every- Flavour Beans as they sped past Muggle towns; pulling off their wizard robes and putting on jackets and coats; pulling into platform nine an d three-quarters at King’s Cross Station. It took quite a while for them all to get off the platform. A wizened old guard was up by the ticket barrier, letting them go through the gate in twos and threes so they didn ’t attract attention by all bursting out of a solid wall at once and alarming the Muggles. “You must come and stay this summer,” said Ron,<|quote|>“both of you – I’ll send you an owl.”</|quote|>“Thanks,” said Harry. “I’ll need something to look forward to.” People jostled them as they moved forwards towards the gateway back to the Muggle world. Some of them called: “Bye, Harry!” “See you, Potter!” “Still famous,” said Ron, grinning at him. “Not where I’m going, I promise you,” said Harry. He, Ron and Hermione passed through the gateway together. “There he is, Mum, there he is, look!” It was Ginny Weasley, Ron’s younger sister, but she wasn’t pointing at Ron.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>Hagrid seized Harry and Hermione and hoisted them off the path behind a towering oak. He pulled out an arrow and fitted it into his crossbow, raising it, ready to fire. The three of them listened. Something was slithering over dead leaves nearby: it sounded like a cloak trailing along the ground. Hagrid was squinting up the dark path, but after a few seconds, the sound faded away. “I knew it,” he murmured. “There ’s summat in here that shouldn’ be.” “A werewolf?” Harry suggested. “That wasn’ no werewolf an’ it wasn’ no unicorn, neither,” said Hagrid grimly. “Right, follow me, but careful, now.” They walked more slowly, ears straining for the faintest sound. Suddenly, in a clearing ahead, something definitely moved.<|quote|>“Who’s there?”</|quote|>Hagrid called. “Show yerself – I’m armed!” And into the clearing came – was it a man, or a horse? To the waist, a man, with red hair and beard, but below that was a horse’s gleaming chestnut body with a long, reddish tail. Harry and Hermione’s jaws dropped. “Oh, it’s you, Ronan,” said Hagrid in relief. “How are yeh?” He walked forward and shook the centaur’s hand. “Good evening to you, Hagrid,” said Ronan. He had a deep, sorrowful voice.<|speaker|>Hagrid<eos> | <bos><|context|>Hagrid seized Harry and Hermione and hoisted them off the path behind a towering oak. He pulled out an arrow and fitted it into his crossbow, raising it, ready to fire. The three of them listened. Something was slithering over dead leaves nearby: it sounded like a cloak trailing along the ground. Hagrid was squinting up the dark path, but after a few seconds, the sound faded away. “I knew it,” he murmured. “There ’s summat in here that shouldn’ be.” “A werewolf?” Harry suggested. “That wasn’ no werewolf an’ it wasn’ no unicorn, neither,” said Hagrid grimly. “Right, follow me, but careful, now.” They walked more slowly, ears straining for the faintest sound. Suddenly, in a clearing ahead, something definitely moved.<|quote|>“Who’s there?”</|quote|>Hagrid called. “Show yerself – I’m armed!” And into the clearing came – was it a man, or a horse? To the waist, a man, with red hair and beard, but below that was a horse’s gleaming chestnut body with a long, reddish tail. Harry and Hermione’s jaws dropped. “Oh, it’s you, Ronan,” said Hagrid in relief. “How are yeh?” He walked forward and shook the centaur’s hand. “Good evening to you, Hagrid,” said Ronan. He had a deep, sorrowful voice.<|speaker|> | Hagrid | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Hagrid seized Harry and Hermione and hoisted them off the path behind a towering oak. He pulled out an arrow and fitted it into his crossbow, raising it, ready to fire. The three of them listened. Something was slithering over dead leaves nearby: it sounded like a cloak trailing along the ground. Hagrid was squinting up the dark path, but after a few seconds, the sound faded away. “I knew it,” he murmured. “There ’s summat in here that shouldn’ be.” “A werewolf?” Harry suggested. “That wasn’ no werewolf an’ it wasn’ no unicorn, neither,” said Hagrid grimly. “Right, follow me, but careful, now.” They walked more slowly, ears straining for the faintest sound. Suddenly, in a clearing ahead, something definitely moved.<|quote|>“Who’s there?”</|quote|>Hagrid called. “Show yerself – I’m armed!” And into the clearing came – was it a man, or a horse? To the waist, a man, with red hair and beard, but below that was a horse’s gleaming chestnut body with a long, reddish tail. Harry and Hermione’s jaws dropped. “Oh, it’s you, Ronan,” said Hagrid in relief. “How are yeh?” He walked forward and shook the centaur’s hand. “Good evening to you, Hagrid,” said Ronan. He had a deep, sorrowful voice.<|speaker|>Hagrid<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Hagrid seized Harry and Hermione and hoisted them off the path behind a towering oak. He pulled out an arrow and fitted it into his crossbow, raising it, ready to fire. The three of them listened. Something was slithering over dead leaves nearby: it sounded like a cloak trailing along the ground. Hagrid was squinting up the dark path, but after a few seconds, the sound faded away. “I knew it,” he murmured. “There ’s summat in here that shouldn’ be.” “A werewolf?” Harry suggested. “That wasn’ no werewolf an’ it wasn’ no unicorn, neither,” said Hagrid grimly. “Right, follow me, but careful, now.” They walked more slowly, ears straining for the faintest sound. Suddenly, in a clearing ahead, something definitely moved.<|quote|>“Who’s there?”</|quote|>Hagrid called. “Show yerself – I’m armed!” And into the clearing came – was it a man, or a horse? To the waist, a man, with red hair and beard, but below that was a horse’s gleaming chestnut body with a long, reddish tail. Harry and Hermione’s jaws dropped. “Oh, it’s you, Ronan,” said Hagrid in relief. “How are yeh?” He walked forward and shook the centaur’s hand. “Good evening to you, Hagrid,” said Ronan. He had a deep, sorrowful voice.<|speaker|> | <|context|>Hagrid seized Harry and Hermione and hoisted them off the path behind a towering oak. He pulled out an arrow and fitted it into his crossbow, raising it, ready to fire. The three of them listened. Something was slithering over dead leaves nearby: it sounded like a cloak trailing along the ground. Hagrid was squinting up the dark path, but after a few seconds, the sound faded away. “I knew it,” he murmured. “There ’s summat in here that shouldn’ be.” “A werewolf?” Harry suggested. “That wasn’ no werewolf an’ it wasn’ no unicorn, neither,” said Hagrid grimly. “Right, follow me, but careful, now.” They walked more slowly, ears straining for the faintest sound. Suddenly, in a clearing ahead, something definitely moved.<|quote|>“Who’s there?”</|quote|>Hagrid called. “Show yerself – I’m armed!” And into the clearing came – was it a man, or a horse? To the waist, a man, with red hair and beard, but below that was a horse’s gleaming chestnut body with a long, reddish tail. Harry and Hermione’s jaws dropped. “Oh, it’s you, Ronan,” said Hagrid in relief. “How are yeh?” He walked forward and shook the centaur’s hand. “Good evening to you, Hagrid,” said Ronan. He had a deep, sorrowful voice.<|speaker|>Hagrid | <|context|>Hagrid seized Harry and Hermione and hoisted them off the path behind a towering oak. He pulled out an arrow and fitted it into his crossbow, raising it, ready to fire. The three of them listened. Something was slithering over dead leaves nearby: it sounded like a cloak trailing along the ground. Hagrid was squinting up the dark path, but after a few seconds, the sound faded away. “I knew it,” he murmured. “There ’s summat in here that shouldn’ be.” “A werewolf?” Harry suggested. “That wasn’ no werewolf an’ it wasn’ no unicorn, neither,” said Hagrid grimly. “Right, follow me, but careful, now.” They walked more slowly, ears straining for the faintest sound. Suddenly, in a clearing ahead, something definitely moved.<|quote|>“Who’s there?”</|quote|>Hagrid called. “Show yerself – I’m armed!” And into the clearing came – was it a man, or a horse? To the waist, a man, with red hair and beard, but below that was a horse’s gleaming chestnut body with a long, reddish tail. Harry and Hermione’s jaws dropped. “Oh, it’s you, Ronan,” said Hagrid in relief. “How are yeh?” He walked forward and shook the centaur’s hand. “Good evening to you, Hagrid,” said Ronan. He had a deep, sorrowful voice.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?” “You’re a lot braver now you’re ba ck on the ground and you’ve got your little friends with you,” said Harry coolly. There was of course nothing at all little about Crabbe and Goyle, but as the High Table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl. “I’d take you on any time on my own,” said Malfoy. “Tonight, if you want. Wizard’s duel. Wands only – no contact. What’s the matter? Never heard of a wizard’s duel before, I suppose?” “Of course he has,” said Ron, wheeling round. “I’m his second, who’s yours?” Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up.<|quote|>“Crabbe,”</|quote|>he said. “Midnight all right? We’ll meet you in the trophy room, that’s always unlocked.” When Malfoy had gone, Ron and Harry looked at each other. “What is a wizard’s duel?” said Harry. “And what do you mean, you’re my second?” “Well, a second’s there to take ov er if you die,” said Ron casually, getting started at last on his cold pie. Catching the look on Harry’s face, he added quickly, “but people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy’ll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway.”<|speaker|>Draco Malfoy<eos> | <bos><|context|>“Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?” “You’re a lot braver now you’re ba ck on the ground and you’ve got your little friends with you,” said Harry coolly. There was of course nothing at all little about Crabbe and Goyle, but as the High Table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl. “I’d take you on any time on my own,” said Malfoy. “Tonight, if you want. Wizard’s duel. Wands only – no contact. What’s the matter? Never heard of a wizard’s duel before, I suppose?” “Of course he has,” said Ron, wheeling round. “I’m his second, who’s yours?” Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up.<|quote|>“Crabbe,”</|quote|>he said. “Midnight all right? We’ll meet you in the trophy room, that’s always unlocked.” When Malfoy had gone, Ron and Harry looked at each other. “What is a wizard’s duel?” said Harry. “And what do you mean, you’re my second?” “Well, a second’s there to take ov er if you die,” said Ron casually, getting started at last on his cold pie. Catching the look on Harry’s face, he added quickly, “but people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy’ll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway.”<|speaker|> | Draco Malfoy | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?” “You’re a lot braver now you’re ba ck on the ground and you’ve got your little friends with you,” said Harry coolly. There was of course nothing at all little about Crabbe and Goyle, but as the High Table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl. “I’d take you on any time on my own,” said Malfoy. “Tonight, if you want. Wizard’s duel. Wands only – no contact. What’s the matter? Never heard of a wizard’s duel before, I suppose?” “Of course he has,” said Ron, wheeling round. “I’m his second, who’s yours?” Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up.<|quote|>“Crabbe,”</|quote|>he said. “Midnight all right? We’ll meet you in the trophy room, that’s always unlocked.” When Malfoy had gone, Ron and Harry looked at each other. “What is a wizard’s duel?” said Harry. “And what do you mean, you’re my second?” “Well, a second’s there to take ov er if you die,” said Ron casually, getting started at last on his cold pie. Catching the look on Harry’s face, he added quickly, “but people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy’ll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway.”<|speaker|>Draco Malfoy<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?” “You’re a lot braver now you’re ba ck on the ground and you’ve got your little friends with you,” said Harry coolly. There was of course nothing at all little about Crabbe and Goyle, but as the High Table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl. “I’d take you on any time on my own,” said Malfoy. “Tonight, if you want. Wizard’s duel. Wands only – no contact. What’s the matter? Never heard of a wizard’s duel before, I suppose?” “Of course he has,” said Ron, wheeling round. “I’m his second, who’s yours?” Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up.<|quote|>“Crabbe,”</|quote|>he said. “Midnight all right? We’ll meet you in the trophy room, that’s always unlocked.” When Malfoy had gone, Ron and Harry looked at each other. “What is a wizard’s duel?” said Harry. “And what do you mean, you’re my second?” “Well, a second’s there to take ov er if you die,” said Ron casually, getting started at last on his cold pie. Catching the look on Harry’s face, he added quickly, “but people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy’ll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway.”<|speaker|> | <|context|>“Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?” “You’re a lot braver now you’re ba ck on the ground and you’ve got your little friends with you,” said Harry coolly. There was of course nothing at all little about Crabbe and Goyle, but as the High Table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl. “I’d take you on any time on my own,” said Malfoy. “Tonight, if you want. Wizard’s duel. Wands only – no contact. What’s the matter? Never heard of a wizard’s duel before, I suppose?” “Of course he has,” said Ron, wheeling round. “I’m his second, who’s yours?” Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up.<|quote|>“Crabbe,”</|quote|>he said. “Midnight all right? We’ll meet you in the trophy room, that’s always unlocked.” When Malfoy had gone, Ron and Harry looked at each other. “What is a wizard’s duel?” said Harry. “And what do you mean, you’re my second?” “Well, a second’s there to take ov er if you die,” said Ron casually, getting started at last on his cold pie. Catching the look on Harry’s face, he added quickly, “but people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy’ll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway.”<|speaker|>Draco Malfoy | <|context|>“Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?” “You’re a lot braver now you’re ba ck on the ground and you’ve got your little friends with you,” said Harry coolly. There was of course nothing at all little about Crabbe and Goyle, but as the High Table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl. “I’d take you on any time on my own,” said Malfoy. “Tonight, if you want. Wizard’s duel. Wands only – no contact. What’s the matter? Never heard of a wizard’s duel before, I suppose?” “Of course he has,” said Ron, wheeling round. “I’m his second, who’s yours?” Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up.<|quote|>“Crabbe,”</|quote|>he said. “Midnight all right? We’ll meet you in the trophy room, that’s always unlocked.” When Malfoy had gone, Ron and Harry looked at each other. “What is a wizard’s duel?” said Harry. “And what do you mean, you’re my second?” “Well, a second’s there to take ov er if you die,” said Ron casually, getting started at last on his cold pie. Catching the look on Harry’s face, he added quickly, “but people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy’ll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway.”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“Yeah – he’s mine – bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las’ year – I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the –” “Yes?” said Harry eagerly. “Now, don’t ask me any more,” said Hagrid gruffly. “That’s top secret, that is.” “But Snape’s trying to steal it.” “Rubbish,” said Hagrid again. “Snape’s a Hogwarts teacher, he’d do nothin’ of the sort.” “So why did he just try and kill Harry?” cried Hermione. The afternoon’s events certainly s eemed to have changed her mind about Snape. “I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I’ve read all about them! You’ve got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn’t blinking at all, I saw him!” “I’m tellin’ yeh, yer wrong!” said Hagrid hotly.<|quote|>“I don’ know why Harry’s broom acted like that, but Snap e wouldn’ try an’ kill a student! Now, listen to me, all three of yeh – yer meddlin’ in things that don’ concern yeh. It’s dangerous. You forg et that dog, an’ you forget what it’s guardin’, that’s between Profe ssor Dumbledore an’ Nicolas Flamel –”</|quote|>“Aha!” said Harry. “So there’s someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?” Hagrid looked furious with himself. 12 – The Mirror of Erised Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell aro und, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver post had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again. No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the draughty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Prof essor Snape’s classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.<|speaker|>Hagrid<eos> | <bos><|context|>“Yeah – he’s mine – bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las’ year – I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the –” “Yes?” said Harry eagerly. “Now, don’t ask me any more,” said Hagrid gruffly. “That’s top secret, that is.” “But Snape’s trying to steal it.” “Rubbish,” said Hagrid again. “Snape’s a Hogwarts teacher, he’d do nothin’ of the sort.” “So why did he just try and kill Harry?” cried Hermione. The afternoon’s events certainly s eemed to have changed her mind about Snape. “I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I’ve read all about them! You’ve got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn’t blinking at all, I saw him!” “I’m tellin’ yeh, yer wrong!” said Hagrid hotly.<|quote|>“I don’ know why Harry’s broom acted like that, but Snap e wouldn’ try an’ kill a student! Now, listen to me, all three of yeh – yer meddlin’ in things that don’ concern yeh. It’s dangerous. You forg et that dog, an’ you forget what it’s guardin’, that’s between Profe ssor Dumbledore an’ Nicolas Flamel –”</|quote|>“Aha!” said Harry. “So there’s someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?” Hagrid looked furious with himself. 12 – The Mirror of Erised Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell aro und, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver post had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again. No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the draughty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Prof essor Snape’s classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.<|speaker|> | Hagrid | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Yeah – he’s mine – bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las’ year – I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the –” “Yes?” said Harry eagerly. “Now, don’t ask me any more,” said Hagrid gruffly. “That’s top secret, that is.” “But Snape’s trying to steal it.” “Rubbish,” said Hagrid again. “Snape’s a Hogwarts teacher, he’d do nothin’ of the sort.” “So why did he just try and kill Harry?” cried Hermione. The afternoon’s events certainly s eemed to have changed her mind about Snape. “I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I’ve read all about them! You’ve got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn’t blinking at all, I saw him!” “I’m tellin’ yeh, yer wrong!” said Hagrid hotly.<|quote|>“I don’ know why Harry’s broom acted like that, but Snap e wouldn’ try an’ kill a student! Now, listen to me, all three of yeh – yer meddlin’ in things that don’ concern yeh. It’s dangerous. You forg et that dog, an’ you forget what it’s guardin’, that’s between Profe ssor Dumbledore an’ Nicolas Flamel –”</|quote|>“Aha!” said Harry. “So there’s someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?” Hagrid looked furious with himself. 12 – The Mirror of Erised Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell aro und, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver post had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again. No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the draughty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Prof essor Snape’s classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.<|speaker|>Hagrid<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Yeah – he’s mine – bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las’ year – I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the –” “Yes?” said Harry eagerly. “Now, don’t ask me any more,” said Hagrid gruffly. “That’s top secret, that is.” “But Snape’s trying to steal it.” “Rubbish,” said Hagrid again. “Snape’s a Hogwarts teacher, he’d do nothin’ of the sort.” “So why did he just try and kill Harry?” cried Hermione. The afternoon’s events certainly s eemed to have changed her mind about Snape. “I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I’ve read all about them! You’ve got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn’t blinking at all, I saw him!” “I’m tellin’ yeh, yer wrong!” said Hagrid hotly.<|quote|>“I don’ know why Harry’s broom acted like that, but Snap e wouldn’ try an’ kill a student! Now, listen to me, all three of yeh – yer meddlin’ in things that don’ concern yeh. It’s dangerous. You forg et that dog, an’ you forget what it’s guardin’, that’s between Profe ssor Dumbledore an’ Nicolas Flamel –”</|quote|>“Aha!” said Harry. “So there’s someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?” Hagrid looked furious with himself. 12 – The Mirror of Erised Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell aro und, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver post had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again. No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the draughty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Prof essor Snape’s classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.<|speaker|> | <|context|>“Yeah – he’s mine – bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las’ year – I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the –” “Yes?” said Harry eagerly. “Now, don’t ask me any more,” said Hagrid gruffly. “That’s top secret, that is.” “But Snape’s trying to steal it.” “Rubbish,” said Hagrid again. “Snape’s a Hogwarts teacher, he’d do nothin’ of the sort.” “So why did he just try and kill Harry?” cried Hermione. The afternoon’s events certainly s eemed to have changed her mind about Snape. “I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I’ve read all about them! You’ve got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn’t blinking at all, I saw him!” “I’m tellin’ yeh, yer wrong!” said Hagrid hotly.<|quote|>“I don’ know why Harry’s broom acted like that, but Snap e wouldn’ try an’ kill a student! Now, listen to me, all three of yeh – yer meddlin’ in things that don’ concern yeh. It’s dangerous. You forg et that dog, an’ you forget what it’s guardin’, that’s between Profe ssor Dumbledore an’ Nicolas Flamel –”</|quote|>“Aha!” said Harry. “So there’s someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?” Hagrid looked furious with himself. 12 – The Mirror of Erised Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell aro und, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver post had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again. No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the draughty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Prof essor Snape’s classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.<|speaker|>Hagrid | <|context|>“Yeah – he’s mine – bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las’ year – I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the –” “Yes?” said Harry eagerly. “Now, don’t ask me any more,” said Hagrid gruffly. “That’s top secret, that is.” “But Snape’s trying to steal it.” “Rubbish,” said Hagrid again. “Snape’s a Hogwarts teacher, he’d do nothin’ of the sort.” “So why did he just try and kill Harry?” cried Hermione. The afternoon’s events certainly s eemed to have changed her mind about Snape. “I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I’ve read all about them! You’ve got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn’t blinking at all, I saw him!” “I’m tellin’ yeh, yer wrong!” said Hagrid hotly.<|quote|>“I don’ know why Harry’s broom acted like that, but Snap e wouldn’ try an’ kill a student! Now, listen to me, all three of yeh – yer meddlin’ in things that don’ concern yeh. It’s dangerous. You forg et that dog, an’ you forget what it’s guardin’, that’s between Profe ssor Dumbledore an’ Nicolas Flamel –”</|quote|>“Aha!” said Harry. “So there’s someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?” Hagrid looked furious with himself. 12 – The Mirror of Erised Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell aro und, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver post had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again. No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the draughty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Worst of all were Prof essor Snape’s classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>said Pr ofessor McGonagall, and they marched on up the corridor, W ood looking curiously at Harry. “In here.” Professor McGonagall pointed them into a classroom which was empty except for Peeves, who was busy writing rude words on the blackboard. “Out, Peeves!” she barked. Peeves threw the chalk into a bin, which clanged loudly, and he swooped out cursing. Professor McGonagall slammed the door behind him and turned to face the two boys. “Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood – I’ve found you a Seeker.” Wood’s expression changed from puzzlement to delight. “Are you serious, Professor?” “Absolutely,” said Professor McGonagall crisply.<|quote|>“The boy’s a natural. I’ve never seen anything lik e it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?”</|quote|>Harry nodded silently. He didn’t have a clue what was going on, but he didn’t seem to be being expelled, and some of the feeling started coming back to his legs. “He caught that thing in his hand after a fifty-foot dive,” Professor McGonagall told Wood. “Didn’t even scratch himself. Charlie Weasley couldn’t have done it.” Wood was now looking as though all his dreams had come true at once. “Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?” he asked excitedly. “Wood’s captain of the Gryffindor team,” Professor McGonagall explained.<|speaker|>Professor McGonagall<eos> | <bos><|context|>said Pr ofessor McGonagall, and they marched on up the corridor, W ood looking curiously at Harry. “In here.” Professor McGonagall pointed them into a classroom which was empty except for Peeves, who was busy writing rude words on the blackboard. “Out, Peeves!” she barked. Peeves threw the chalk into a bin, which clanged loudly, and he swooped out cursing. Professor McGonagall slammed the door behind him and turned to face the two boys. “Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood – I’ve found you a Seeker.” Wood’s expression changed from puzzlement to delight. “Are you serious, Professor?” “Absolutely,” said Professor McGonagall crisply.<|quote|>“The boy’s a natural. I’ve never seen anything lik e it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?”</|quote|>Harry nodded silently. He didn’t have a clue what was going on, but he didn’t seem to be being expelled, and some of the feeling started coming back to his legs. “He caught that thing in his hand after a fifty-foot dive,” Professor McGonagall told Wood. “Didn’t even scratch himself. Charlie Weasley couldn’t have done it.” Wood was now looking as though all his dreams had come true at once. “Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?” he asked excitedly. “Wood’s captain of the Gryffindor team,” Professor McGonagall explained.<|speaker|> | Professor McGonagall | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>said Pr ofessor McGonagall, and they marched on up the corridor, W ood looking curiously at Harry. “In here.” Professor McGonagall pointed them into a classroom which was empty except for Peeves, who was busy writing rude words on the blackboard. “Out, Peeves!” she barked. Peeves threw the chalk into a bin, which clanged loudly, and he swooped out cursing. Professor McGonagall slammed the door behind him and turned to face the two boys. “Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood – I’ve found you a Seeker.” Wood’s expression changed from puzzlement to delight. “Are you serious, Professor?” “Absolutely,” said Professor McGonagall crisply.<|quote|>“The boy’s a natural. I’ve never seen anything lik e it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?”</|quote|>Harry nodded silently. He didn’t have a clue what was going on, but he didn’t seem to be being expelled, and some of the feeling started coming back to his legs. “He caught that thing in his hand after a fifty-foot dive,” Professor McGonagall told Wood. “Didn’t even scratch himself. Charlie Weasley couldn’t have done it.” Wood was now looking as though all his dreams had come true at once. “Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?” he asked excitedly. “Wood’s captain of the Gryffindor team,” Professor McGonagall explained.<|speaker|>Professor McGonagall<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>said Pr ofessor McGonagall, and they marched on up the corridor, W ood looking curiously at Harry. “In here.” Professor McGonagall pointed them into a classroom which was empty except for Peeves, who was busy writing rude words on the blackboard. “Out, Peeves!” she barked. Peeves threw the chalk into a bin, which clanged loudly, and he swooped out cursing. Professor McGonagall slammed the door behind him and turned to face the two boys. “Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood – I’ve found you a Seeker.” Wood’s expression changed from puzzlement to delight. “Are you serious, Professor?” “Absolutely,” said Professor McGonagall crisply.<|quote|>“The boy’s a natural. I’ve never seen anything lik e it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?”</|quote|>Harry nodded silently. He didn’t have a clue what was going on, but he didn’t seem to be being expelled, and some of the feeling started coming back to his legs. “He caught that thing in his hand after a fifty-foot dive,” Professor McGonagall told Wood. “Didn’t even scratch himself. Charlie Weasley couldn’t have done it.” Wood was now looking as though all his dreams had come true at once. “Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?” he asked excitedly. “Wood’s captain of the Gryffindor team,” Professor McGonagall explained.<|speaker|> | <|context|>said Pr ofessor McGonagall, and they marched on up the corridor, W ood looking curiously at Harry. “In here.” Professor McGonagall pointed them into a classroom which was empty except for Peeves, who was busy writing rude words on the blackboard. “Out, Peeves!” she barked. Peeves threw the chalk into a bin, which clanged loudly, and he swooped out cursing. Professor McGonagall slammed the door behind him and turned to face the two boys. “Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood – I’ve found you a Seeker.” Wood’s expression changed from puzzlement to delight. “Are you serious, Professor?” “Absolutely,” said Professor McGonagall crisply.<|quote|>“The boy’s a natural. I’ve never seen anything lik e it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?”</|quote|>Harry nodded silently. He didn’t have a clue what was going on, but he didn’t seem to be being expelled, and some of the feeling started coming back to his legs. “He caught that thing in his hand after a fifty-foot dive,” Professor McGonagall told Wood. “Didn’t even scratch himself. Charlie Weasley couldn’t have done it.” Wood was now looking as though all his dreams had come true at once. “Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?” he asked excitedly. “Wood’s captain of the Gryffindor team,” Professor McGonagall explained.<|speaker|>Professor McGonagall | <|context|>said Pr ofessor McGonagall, and they marched on up the corridor, W ood looking curiously at Harry. “In here.” Professor McGonagall pointed them into a classroom which was empty except for Peeves, who was busy writing rude words on the blackboard. “Out, Peeves!” she barked. Peeves threw the chalk into a bin, which clanged loudly, and he swooped out cursing. Professor McGonagall slammed the door behind him and turned to face the two boys. “Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood – I’ve found you a Seeker.” Wood’s expression changed from puzzlement to delight. “Are you serious, Professor?” “Absolutely,” said Professor McGonagall crisply.<|quote|>“The boy’s a natural. I’ve never seen anything lik e it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?”</|quote|>Harry nodded silently. He didn’t have a clue what was going on, but he didn’t seem to be being expelled, and some of the feeling started coming back to his legs. “He caught that thing in his hand after a fifty-foot dive,” Professor McGonagall told Wood. “Didn’t even scratch himself. Charlie Weasley couldn’t have done it.” Wood was now looking as though all his dreams had come true at once. “Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?” he asked excitedly. “Wood’s captain of the Gryffindor team,” Professor McGonagall explained.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>A magic wand … this was what Harry had been really looking forward to. The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single spindly chair which Hagrid sat on to wait. Harry felt strangely as though he had entered a very strict library; he swallowed a lot of new questions which had just occurred to him and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic. “Good afternoon,” said a soft vo ice. Harry jumped. Hagrid must have jumped, too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he got quickly off the spindly chair. An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop. “Hello,” said Harry awkwardly. “Ah yes,”<|quote|>said the man.</|quote|>“Yes, yes. I thought I’d be seeing you soon. Harry Potter.” It wasn’t a question. “You have your mother’s eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work.” Mr Ollivander moved closer to Harry. Harry wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy. “Your father, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it – it’s really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course.”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>A magic wand … this was what Harry had been really looking forward to. The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single spindly chair which Hagrid sat on to wait. Harry felt strangely as though he had entered a very strict library; he swallowed a lot of new questions which had just occurred to him and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic. “Good afternoon,” said a soft vo ice. Harry jumped. Hagrid must have jumped, too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he got quickly off the spindly chair. An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop. “Hello,” said Harry awkwardly. “Ah yes,”<|quote|>said the man.</|quote|>“Yes, yes. I thought I’d be seeing you soon. Harry Potter.” It wasn’t a question. “You have your mother’s eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work.” Mr Ollivander moved closer to Harry. Harry wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy. “Your father, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it – it’s really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course.”<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>A magic wand … this was what Harry had been really looking forward to. The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single spindly chair which Hagrid sat on to wait. Harry felt strangely as though he had entered a very strict library; he swallowed a lot of new questions which had just occurred to him and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic. “Good afternoon,” said a soft vo ice. Harry jumped. Hagrid must have jumped, too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he got quickly off the spindly chair. An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop. “Hello,” said Harry awkwardly. “Ah yes,”<|quote|>said the man.</|quote|>“Yes, yes. I thought I’d be seeing you soon. Harry Potter.” It wasn’t a question. “You have your mother’s eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work.” Mr Ollivander moved closer to Harry. Harry wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy. “Your father, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it – it’s really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course.”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>A magic wand … this was what Harry had been really looking forward to. The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single spindly chair which Hagrid sat on to wait. Harry felt strangely as though he had entered a very strict library; he swallowed a lot of new questions which had just occurred to him and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic. “Good afternoon,” said a soft vo ice. Harry jumped. Hagrid must have jumped, too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he got quickly off the spindly chair. An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop. “Hello,” said Harry awkwardly. “Ah yes,”<|quote|>said the man.</|quote|>“Yes, yes. I thought I’d be seeing you soon. Harry Potter.” It wasn’t a question. “You have your mother’s eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work.” Mr Ollivander moved closer to Harry. Harry wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy. “Your father, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it – it’s really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course.”<|speaker|> | <|context|>A magic wand … this was what Harry had been really looking forward to. The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single spindly chair which Hagrid sat on to wait. Harry felt strangely as though he had entered a very strict library; he swallowed a lot of new questions which had just occurred to him and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic. “Good afternoon,” said a soft vo ice. Harry jumped. Hagrid must have jumped, too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he got quickly off the spindly chair. An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop. “Hello,” said Harry awkwardly. “Ah yes,”<|quote|>said the man.</|quote|>“Yes, yes. I thought I’d be seeing you soon. Harry Potter.” It wasn’t a question. “You have your mother’s eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work.” Mr Ollivander moved closer to Harry. Harry wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy. “Your father, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it – it’s really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course.”<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>A magic wand … this was what Harry had been really looking forward to. The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single spindly chair which Hagrid sat on to wait. Harry felt strangely as though he had entered a very strict library; he swallowed a lot of new questions which had just occurred to him and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic. “Good afternoon,” said a soft vo ice. Harry jumped. Hagrid must have jumped, too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he got quickly off the spindly chair. An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop. “Hello,” said Harry awkwardly. “Ah yes,”<|quote|>said the man.</|quote|>“Yes, yes. I thought I’d be seeing you soon. Harry Potter.” It wasn’t a question. “You have your mother’s eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work.” Mr Ollivander moved closer to Harry. Harry wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy. “Your father, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it – it’s really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course.”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>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?” “Oh, we found out who he is ages ago,” said Ron impressively. “And we know what that dog’s guarding, it’s a Philosopher’s St–” “Shhhh!” Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening. “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,”<|quote|>said Harry,</|quote|>“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 kn ow. 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 thoughtfully. “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.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>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?” “Oh, we found out who he is ages ago,” said Ron impressively. “And we know what that dog’s guarding, it’s a Philosopher’s St–” “Shhhh!” Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening. “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,”<|quote|>said Harry,</|quote|>“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 kn ow. 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 thoughtfully. “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.<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>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?” “Oh, we found out who he is ages ago,” said Ron impressively. “And we know what that dog’s guarding, it’s a Philosopher’s St–” “Shhhh!” Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening. “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,”<|quote|>said Harry,</|quote|>“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 kn ow. 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 thoughtfully. “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.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>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?” “Oh, we found out who he is ages ago,” said Ron impressively. “And we know what that dog’s guarding, it’s a Philosopher’s St–” “Shhhh!” Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening. “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,”<|quote|>said Harry,</|quote|>“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 kn ow. 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 thoughtfully. “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.<|speaker|> | <|context|>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?” “Oh, we found out who he is ages ago,” said Ron impressively. “And we know what that dog’s guarding, it’s a Philosopher’s St–” “Shhhh!” Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening. “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,”<|quote|>said Harry,</|quote|>“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 kn ow. 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 thoughtfully. “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.<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>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?” “Oh, we found out who he is ages ago,” said Ron impressively. “And we know what that dog’s guarding, it’s a Philosopher’s St–” “Shhhh!” Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening. “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,”<|quote|>said Harry,</|quote|>“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 kn ow. 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 thoughtfully. “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.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>He was about to go back upstai rs when Uncle Vernon actually spoke. “Funny way to get to a wizards’ school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?” Harry didn’t say anything. “Where is this school, anyway?” “I don’t know,” said Harry, realising this for the first time. He pulled the ticket Hagrid had given him out of his pocket. “I just take the train from plat form nine and three-quarters at eleven o’clock,” he read. His aunt and uncle stared. “Platform what?” “Nine and three-quarters.” “Don’t talk rubbish,” said Uncle Ve rnon, “there is no platform nine and three-quarters.”<|quote|>“It’s on my ticket.”</|quote|>“Barking,” said Uncle Vernon, “how ling mad, the lot of them. You’ll see. You just wait. All right, we’ll ta ke you to King’s Cross. We’re going up to London tomorrow anyway, or I wouldn’t bother.” “Why are you going to London?” Ha rry asked, trying to keep things friendly. “Taking Dudley to hospital,” growled Uncle Vernon. “Got to have that ruddy tail removed before he goes to Smeltings.” * Harry woke at five o’clock the next morning and was too excited and nervous to go back to sleep. He got up and pulled on his jeans because he didn’t want to walk into the station in his wizard’s robes – he’d change on the train. He checked his Hogwarts list yet again to make sure he had everything he needed, saw that Hedwig was shut safely in her cage and then paced the room, waiting for the Dursleys to get up. Two hours later, Harry’s huge, heavy trunk had been loaded into the Dursleys’ car, Aunt Petunia had talked Dudley into sitting next to Harry and they had set off. They reached King’s Cross at half past ten. Uncle Vernon dumped Harry’s trunk on to a trolley and wheel ed it into the station for him. Harry thought this was strangely kind until Uncle Vernon stopped dead, facing the platforms with a nasty grin on his face.<|speaker|>Harry Potter<eos> | <bos><|context|>He was about to go back upstai rs when Uncle Vernon actually spoke. “Funny way to get to a wizards’ school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?” Harry didn’t say anything. “Where is this school, anyway?” “I don’t know,” said Harry, realising this for the first time. He pulled the ticket Hagrid had given him out of his pocket. “I just take the train from plat form nine and three-quarters at eleven o’clock,” he read. His aunt and uncle stared. “Platform what?” “Nine and three-quarters.” “Don’t talk rubbish,” said Uncle Ve rnon, “there is no platform nine and three-quarters.”<|quote|>“It’s on my ticket.”</|quote|>“Barking,” said Uncle Vernon, “how ling mad, the lot of them. You’ll see. You just wait. All right, we’ll ta ke you to King’s Cross. We’re going up to London tomorrow anyway, or I wouldn’t bother.” “Why are you going to London?” Ha rry asked, trying to keep things friendly. “Taking Dudley to hospital,” growled Uncle Vernon. “Got to have that ruddy tail removed before he goes to Smeltings.” * Harry woke at five o’clock the next morning and was too excited and nervous to go back to sleep. He got up and pulled on his jeans because he didn’t want to walk into the station in his wizard’s robes – he’d change on the train. He checked his Hogwarts list yet again to make sure he had everything he needed, saw that Hedwig was shut safely in her cage and then paced the room, waiting for the Dursleys to get up. Two hours later, Harry’s huge, heavy trunk had been loaded into the Dursleys’ car, Aunt Petunia had talked Dudley into sitting next to Harry and they had set off. They reached King’s Cross at half past ten. Uncle Vernon dumped Harry’s trunk on to a trolley and wheel ed it into the station for him. Harry thought this was strangely kind until Uncle Vernon stopped dead, facing the platforms with a nasty grin on his face.<|speaker|> | Harry Potter | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>He was about to go back upstai rs when Uncle Vernon actually spoke. “Funny way to get to a wizards’ school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?” Harry didn’t say anything. “Where is this school, anyway?” “I don’t know,” said Harry, realising this for the first time. He pulled the ticket Hagrid had given him out of his pocket. “I just take the train from plat form nine and three-quarters at eleven o’clock,” he read. His aunt and uncle stared. “Platform what?” “Nine and three-quarters.” “Don’t talk rubbish,” said Uncle Ve rnon, “there is no platform nine and three-quarters.”<|quote|>“It’s on my ticket.”</|quote|>“Barking,” said Uncle Vernon, “how ling mad, the lot of them. You’ll see. You just wait. All right, we’ll ta ke you to King’s Cross. We’re going up to London tomorrow anyway, or I wouldn’t bother.” “Why are you going to London?” Ha rry asked, trying to keep things friendly. “Taking Dudley to hospital,” growled Uncle Vernon. “Got to have that ruddy tail removed before he goes to Smeltings.” * Harry woke at five o’clock the next morning and was too excited and nervous to go back to sleep. He got up and pulled on his jeans because he didn’t want to walk into the station in his wizard’s robes – he’d change on the train. He checked his Hogwarts list yet again to make sure he had everything he needed, saw that Hedwig was shut safely in her cage and then paced the room, waiting for the Dursleys to get up. Two hours later, Harry’s huge, heavy trunk had been loaded into the Dursleys’ car, Aunt Petunia had talked Dudley into sitting next to Harry and they had set off. They reached King’s Cross at half past ten. Uncle Vernon dumped Harry’s trunk on to a trolley and wheel ed it into the station for him. Harry thought this was strangely kind until Uncle Vernon stopped dead, facing the platforms with a nasty grin on his face.<|speaker|>Harry Potter<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>He was about to go back upstai rs when Uncle Vernon actually spoke. “Funny way to get to a wizards’ school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?” Harry didn’t say anything. “Where is this school, anyway?” “I don’t know,” said Harry, realising this for the first time. He pulled the ticket Hagrid had given him out of his pocket. “I just take the train from plat form nine and three-quarters at eleven o’clock,” he read. His aunt and uncle stared. “Platform what?” “Nine and three-quarters.” “Don’t talk rubbish,” said Uncle Ve rnon, “there is no platform nine and three-quarters.”<|quote|>“It’s on my ticket.”</|quote|>“Barking,” said Uncle Vernon, “how ling mad, the lot of them. You’ll see. You just wait. All right, we’ll ta ke you to King’s Cross. We’re going up to London tomorrow anyway, or I wouldn’t bother.” “Why are you going to London?” Ha rry asked, trying to keep things friendly. “Taking Dudley to hospital,” growled Uncle Vernon. “Got to have that ruddy tail removed before he goes to Smeltings.” * Harry woke at five o’clock the next morning and was too excited and nervous to go back to sleep. He got up and pulled on his jeans because he didn’t want to walk into the station in his wizard’s robes – he’d change on the train. He checked his Hogwarts list yet again to make sure he had everything he needed, saw that Hedwig was shut safely in her cage and then paced the room, waiting for the Dursleys to get up. Two hours later, Harry’s huge, heavy trunk had been loaded into the Dursleys’ car, Aunt Petunia had talked Dudley into sitting next to Harry and they had set off. They reached King’s Cross at half past ten. Uncle Vernon dumped Harry’s trunk on to a trolley and wheel ed it into the station for him. Harry thought this was strangely kind until Uncle Vernon stopped dead, facing the platforms with a nasty grin on his face.<|speaker|> | <|context|>He was about to go back upstai rs when Uncle Vernon actually spoke. “Funny way to get to a wizards’ school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?” Harry didn’t say anything. “Where is this school, anyway?” “I don’t know,” said Harry, realising this for the first time. He pulled the ticket Hagrid had given him out of his pocket. “I just take the train from plat form nine and three-quarters at eleven o’clock,” he read. His aunt and uncle stared. “Platform what?” “Nine and three-quarters.” “Don’t talk rubbish,” said Uncle Ve rnon, “there is no platform nine and three-quarters.”<|quote|>“It’s on my ticket.”</|quote|>“Barking,” said Uncle Vernon, “how ling mad, the lot of them. You’ll see. You just wait. All right, we’ll ta ke you to King’s Cross. We’re going up to London tomorrow anyway, or I wouldn’t bother.” “Why are you going to London?” Ha rry asked, trying to keep things friendly. “Taking Dudley to hospital,” growled Uncle Vernon. “Got to have that ruddy tail removed before he goes to Smeltings.” * Harry woke at five o’clock the next morning and was too excited and nervous to go back to sleep. He got up and pulled on his jeans because he didn’t want to walk into the station in his wizard’s robes – he’d change on the train. He checked his Hogwarts list yet again to make sure he had everything he needed, saw that Hedwig was shut safely in her cage and then paced the room, waiting for the Dursleys to get up. Two hours later, Harry’s huge, heavy trunk had been loaded into the Dursleys’ car, Aunt Petunia had talked Dudley into sitting next to Harry and they had set off. They reached King’s Cross at half past ten. Uncle Vernon dumped Harry’s trunk on to a trolley and wheel ed it into the station for him. Harry thought this was strangely kind until Uncle Vernon stopped dead, facing the platforms with a nasty grin on his face.<|speaker|>Harry Potter | <|context|>He was about to go back upstai rs when Uncle Vernon actually spoke. “Funny way to get to a wizards’ school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?” Harry didn’t say anything. “Where is this school, anyway?” “I don’t know,” said Harry, realising this for the first time. He pulled the ticket Hagrid had given him out of his pocket. “I just take the train from plat form nine and three-quarters at eleven o’clock,” he read. His aunt and uncle stared. “Platform what?” “Nine and three-quarters.” “Don’t talk rubbish,” said Uncle Ve rnon, “there is no platform nine and three-quarters.”<|quote|>“It’s on my ticket.”</|quote|>“Barking,” said Uncle Vernon, “how ling mad, the lot of them. You’ll see. You just wait. All right, we’ll ta ke you to King’s Cross. We’re going up to London tomorrow anyway, or I wouldn’t bother.” “Why are you going to London?” Ha rry asked, trying to keep things friendly. “Taking Dudley to hospital,” growled Uncle Vernon. “Got to have that ruddy tail removed before he goes to Smeltings.” * Harry woke at five o’clock the next morning and was too excited and nervous to go back to sleep. He got up and pulled on his jeans because he didn’t want to walk into the station in his wizard’s robes – he’d change on the train. He checked his Hogwarts list yet again to make sure he had everything he needed, saw that Hedwig was shut safely in her cage and then paced the room, waiting for the Dursleys to get up. Two hours later, Harry’s huge, heavy trunk had been loaded into the Dursleys’ car, Aunt Petunia had talked Dudley into sitting next to Harry and they had set off. They reached King’s Cross at half past ten. Uncle Vernon dumped Harry’s trunk on to a trolley and wheel ed it into the station for him. Harry thought this was strangely kind until Uncle Vernon stopped dead, facing the platforms with a nasty grin on his face.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“No wonder Snape’s after it! Anyone would want it.” “And no wonder we couldn’t find Flamel in that Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry ,” said Ron. “He’s not exactly recent if he’s six hundred and sixty-five, is he?” Next morning in Defence Against the Dark Arts, while copying down different ways of treating werewolf bites, Harry and Ron were still discussing what they’d do with a Ph ilosopher’s Stone if they had one. It wasn’t until Ron said he’d buy his own Quidditch team that Harry remembered about Snape and the coming match. “I’m going to play,”<|quote|>he told Ron and Hermione.</|quote|>“If I don’t, all the Slytherins will think I’m just too sca red to face Snape. I’ll show them … it’ll really wipe the smiles off their faces if we win.” “Just as long as we’re not wiping you off the pitch,” said Hermione. * As the match drew nearer, however, Harry became more and more nervous, whatever he told Ron and Hermione. The rest of the team weren’t too calm, either. The idea of overtaking Slytherin in the House Championship was wonderful, no one had done it for nearly seven years, but would they be allowed to, with such a biased referee? Harry didn’t know whether he was imagining it or not, but he seemed to keep running into Snape wherever he went. At times, he even wondered whether Snape was following him, trying to catch him on his own. Potions lessons were turn ing into a sort of weekly torture, Snape was so horrible to Harry. Co uld Snape possibly know they’d found out about the Philosopher’s Stone? Harry didn’t see how he could – yet he sometimes had the horrible feeling that Snape could read minds. * Harry knew, when they wished him good luck outside the changing rooms next afternoon, that Ron and Hermione were wondering whether they’d ever see him alive again. This wasn’t what you’d call comforting. Harry hardly heard a word of Wood’s pep talk as he pulled on his Quidditch robes and picked up his Nimbus Two Thousand. Ron and Hermione, meanwhile, had found a place in the stands next to Neville, who couldn’t underst and why they looked so grim and worried, or why they had both brough t their wands to the match. Little did Harry know that Ron and Hermione had been secretly practising the Leg-Locker Curse. They’d got th e idea from Malfoy using it on Neville, and were ready to use it on Snape if he showed any sign of wanting to hurt Harry.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>“No wonder Snape’s after it! Anyone would want it.” “And no wonder we couldn’t find Flamel in that Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry ,” said Ron. “He’s not exactly recent if he’s six hundred and sixty-five, is he?” Next morning in Defence Against the Dark Arts, while copying down different ways of treating werewolf bites, Harry and Ron were still discussing what they’d do with a Ph ilosopher’s Stone if they had one. It wasn’t until Ron said he’d buy his own Quidditch team that Harry remembered about Snape and the coming match. “I’m going to play,”<|quote|>he told Ron and Hermione.</|quote|>“If I don’t, all the Slytherins will think I’m just too sca red to face Snape. I’ll show them … it’ll really wipe the smiles off their faces if we win.” “Just as long as we’re not wiping you off the pitch,” said Hermione. * As the match drew nearer, however, Harry became more and more nervous, whatever he told Ron and Hermione. The rest of the team weren’t too calm, either. The idea of overtaking Slytherin in the House Championship was wonderful, no one had done it for nearly seven years, but would they be allowed to, with such a biased referee? Harry didn’t know whether he was imagining it or not, but he seemed to keep running into Snape wherever he went. At times, he even wondered whether Snape was following him, trying to catch him on his own. Potions lessons were turn ing into a sort of weekly torture, Snape was so horrible to Harry. Co uld Snape possibly know they’d found out about the Philosopher’s Stone? Harry didn’t see how he could – yet he sometimes had the horrible feeling that Snape could read minds. * Harry knew, when they wished him good luck outside the changing rooms next afternoon, that Ron and Hermione were wondering whether they’d ever see him alive again. This wasn’t what you’d call comforting. Harry hardly heard a word of Wood’s pep talk as he pulled on his Quidditch robes and picked up his Nimbus Two Thousand. Ron and Hermione, meanwhile, had found a place in the stands next to Neville, who couldn’t underst and why they looked so grim and worried, or why they had both brough t their wands to the match. Little did Harry know that Ron and Hermione had been secretly practising the Leg-Locker Curse. They’d got th e idea from Malfoy using it on Neville, and were ready to use it on Snape if he showed any sign of wanting to hurt Harry.<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“No wonder Snape’s after it! Anyone would want it.” “And no wonder we couldn’t find Flamel in that Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry ,” said Ron. “He’s not exactly recent if he’s six hundred and sixty-five, is he?” Next morning in Defence Against the Dark Arts, while copying down different ways of treating werewolf bites, Harry and Ron were still discussing what they’d do with a Ph ilosopher’s Stone if they had one. It wasn’t until Ron said he’d buy his own Quidditch team that Harry remembered about Snape and the coming match. “I’m going to play,”<|quote|>he told Ron and Hermione.</|quote|>“If I don’t, all the Slytherins will think I’m just too sca red to face Snape. I’ll show them … it’ll really wipe the smiles off their faces if we win.” “Just as long as we’re not wiping you off the pitch,” said Hermione. * As the match drew nearer, however, Harry became more and more nervous, whatever he told Ron and Hermione. The rest of the team weren’t too calm, either. The idea of overtaking Slytherin in the House Championship was wonderful, no one had done it for nearly seven years, but would they be allowed to, with such a biased referee? Harry didn’t know whether he was imagining it or not, but he seemed to keep running into Snape wherever he went. At times, he even wondered whether Snape was following him, trying to catch him on his own. Potions lessons were turn ing into a sort of weekly torture, Snape was so horrible to Harry. Co uld Snape possibly know they’d found out about the Philosopher’s Stone? Harry didn’t see how he could – yet he sometimes had the horrible feeling that Snape could read minds. * Harry knew, when they wished him good luck outside the changing rooms next afternoon, that Ron and Hermione were wondering whether they’d ever see him alive again. This wasn’t what you’d call comforting. Harry hardly heard a word of Wood’s pep talk as he pulled on his Quidditch robes and picked up his Nimbus Two Thousand. Ron and Hermione, meanwhile, had found a place in the stands next to Neville, who couldn’t underst and why they looked so grim and worried, or why they had both brough t their wands to the match. Little did Harry know that Ron and Hermione had been secretly practising the Leg-Locker Curse. They’d got th e idea from Malfoy using it on Neville, and were ready to use it on Snape if he showed any sign of wanting to hurt Harry.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“No wonder Snape’s after it! Anyone would want it.” “And no wonder we couldn’t find Flamel in that Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry ,” said Ron. “He’s not exactly recent if he’s six hundred and sixty-five, is he?” Next morning in Defence Against the Dark Arts, while copying down different ways of treating werewolf bites, Harry and Ron were still discussing what they’d do with a Ph ilosopher’s Stone if they had one. It wasn’t until Ron said he’d buy his own Quidditch team that Harry remembered about Snape and the coming match. “I’m going to play,”<|quote|>he told Ron and Hermione.</|quote|>“If I don’t, all the Slytherins will think I’m just too sca red to face Snape. I’ll show them … it’ll really wipe the smiles off their faces if we win.” “Just as long as we’re not wiping you off the pitch,” said Hermione. * As the match drew nearer, however, Harry became more and more nervous, whatever he told Ron and Hermione. The rest of the team weren’t too calm, either. The idea of overtaking Slytherin in the House Championship was wonderful, no one had done it for nearly seven years, but would they be allowed to, with such a biased referee? Harry didn’t know whether he was imagining it or not, but he seemed to keep running into Snape wherever he went. At times, he even wondered whether Snape was following him, trying to catch him on his own. Potions lessons were turn ing into a sort of weekly torture, Snape was so horrible to Harry. Co uld Snape possibly know they’d found out about the Philosopher’s Stone? Harry didn’t see how he could – yet he sometimes had the horrible feeling that Snape could read minds. * Harry knew, when they wished him good luck outside the changing rooms next afternoon, that Ron and Hermione were wondering whether they’d ever see him alive again. This wasn’t what you’d call comforting. Harry hardly heard a word of Wood’s pep talk as he pulled on his Quidditch robes and picked up his Nimbus Two Thousand. Ron and Hermione, meanwhile, had found a place in the stands next to Neville, who couldn’t underst and why they looked so grim and worried, or why they had both brough t their wands to the match. Little did Harry know that Ron and Hermione had been secretly practising the Leg-Locker Curse. They’d got th e idea from Malfoy using it on Neville, and were ready to use it on Snape if he showed any sign of wanting to hurt Harry.<|speaker|> | <|context|>“No wonder Snape’s after it! Anyone would want it.” “And no wonder we couldn’t find Flamel in that Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry ,” said Ron. “He’s not exactly recent if he’s six hundred and sixty-five, is he?” Next morning in Defence Against the Dark Arts, while copying down different ways of treating werewolf bites, Harry and Ron were still discussing what they’d do with a Ph ilosopher’s Stone if they had one. It wasn’t until Ron said he’d buy his own Quidditch team that Harry remembered about Snape and the coming match. “I’m going to play,”<|quote|>he told Ron and Hermione.</|quote|>“If I don’t, all the Slytherins will think I’m just too sca red to face Snape. I’ll show them … it’ll really wipe the smiles off their faces if we win.” “Just as long as we’re not wiping you off the pitch,” said Hermione. * As the match drew nearer, however, Harry became more and more nervous, whatever he told Ron and Hermione. The rest of the team weren’t too calm, either. The idea of overtaking Slytherin in the House Championship was wonderful, no one had done it for nearly seven years, but would they be allowed to, with such a biased referee? Harry didn’t know whether he was imagining it or not, but he seemed to keep running into Snape wherever he went. At times, he even wondered whether Snape was following him, trying to catch him on his own. Potions lessons were turn ing into a sort of weekly torture, Snape was so horrible to Harry. Co uld Snape possibly know they’d found out about the Philosopher’s Stone? Harry didn’t see how he could – yet he sometimes had the horrible feeling that Snape could read minds. * Harry knew, when they wished him good luck outside the changing rooms next afternoon, that Ron and Hermione were wondering whether they’d ever see him alive again. This wasn’t what you’d call comforting. Harry hardly heard a word of Wood’s pep talk as he pulled on his Quidditch robes and picked up his Nimbus Two Thousand. Ron and Hermione, meanwhile, had found a place in the stands next to Neville, who couldn’t underst and why they looked so grim and worried, or why they had both brough t their wands to the match. Little did Harry know that Ron and Hermione had been secretly practising the Leg-Locker Curse. They’d got th e idea from Malfoy using it on Neville, and were ready to use it on Snape if he showed any sign of wanting to hurt Harry.<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>“No wonder Snape’s after it! Anyone would want it.” “And no wonder we couldn’t find Flamel in that Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry ,” said Ron. “He’s not exactly recent if he’s six hundred and sixty-five, is he?” Next morning in Defence Against the Dark Arts, while copying down different ways of treating werewolf bites, Harry and Ron were still discussing what they’d do with a Ph ilosopher’s Stone if they had one. It wasn’t until Ron said he’d buy his own Quidditch team that Harry remembered about Snape and the coming match. “I’m going to play,”<|quote|>he told Ron and Hermione.</|quote|>“If I don’t, all the Slytherins will think I’m just too sca red to face Snape. I’ll show them … it’ll really wipe the smiles off their faces if we win.” “Just as long as we’re not wiping you off the pitch,” said Hermione. * As the match drew nearer, however, Harry became more and more nervous, whatever he told Ron and Hermione. The rest of the team weren’t too calm, either. The idea of overtaking Slytherin in the House Championship was wonderful, no one had done it for nearly seven years, but would they be allowed to, with such a biased referee? Harry didn’t know whether he was imagining it or not, but he seemed to keep running into Snape wherever he went. At times, he even wondered whether Snape was following him, trying to catch him on his own. Potions lessons were turn ing into a sort of weekly torture, Snape was so horrible to Harry. Co uld Snape possibly know they’d found out about the Philosopher’s Stone? Harry didn’t see how he could – yet he sometimes had the horrible feeling that Snape could read minds. * Harry knew, when they wished him good luck outside the changing rooms next afternoon, that Ron and Hermione were wondering whether they’d ever see him alive again. This wasn’t what you’d call comforting. Harry hardly heard a word of Wood’s pep talk as he pulled on his Quidditch robes and picked up his Nimbus Two Thousand. Ron and Hermione, meanwhile, had found a place in the stands next to Neville, who couldn’t underst and why they looked so grim and worried, or why they had both brough t their wands to the match. Little did Harry know that Ron and Hermione had been secretly practising the Leg-Locker Curse. They’d got th e idea from Malfoy using it on Neville, and were ready to use it on Snape if he showed any sign of wanting to hurt Harry.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>Harry turned over his card and read: Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the 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 an d 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?”<|quote|>Ron sounded amazed.</|quote|>“Weird!” Harry stared as Dumbledore sidled ba ck 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 Hengis t 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 Bolt’s Every-Flavour Beans. “You want to be careful with those,” Ron warned Harry. “When they say every flavour, they mean every flavour – you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and pe ppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a bogey-flavoured one once.”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>Harry turned over his card and read: Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the 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 an d 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?”<|quote|>Ron sounded amazed.</|quote|>“Weird!” Harry stared as Dumbledore sidled ba ck 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 Hengis t 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 Bolt’s Every-Flavour Beans. “You want to be careful with those,” Ron warned Harry. “When they say every flavour, they mean every flavour – you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and pe ppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a bogey-flavoured one once.”<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Harry turned over his card and read: Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the 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 an d 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?”<|quote|>Ron sounded amazed.</|quote|>“Weird!” Harry stared as Dumbledore sidled ba ck 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 Hengis t 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 Bolt’s Every-Flavour Beans. “You want to be careful with those,” Ron warned Harry. “When they say every flavour, they mean every flavour – you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and pe ppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a bogey-flavoured one once.”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Harry turned over his card and read: Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the 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 an d 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?”<|quote|>Ron sounded amazed.</|quote|>“Weird!” Harry stared as Dumbledore sidled ba ck 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 Hengis t 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 Bolt’s Every-Flavour Beans. “You want to be careful with those,” Ron warned Harry. “When they say every flavour, they mean every flavour – you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and pe ppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a bogey-flavoured one once.”<|speaker|> | <|context|>Harry turned over his card and read: Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the 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 an d 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?”<|quote|>Ron sounded amazed.</|quote|>“Weird!” Harry stared as Dumbledore sidled ba ck 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 Hengis t 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 Bolt’s Every-Flavour Beans. “You want to be careful with those,” Ron warned Harry. “When they say every flavour, they mean every flavour – you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and pe ppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a bogey-flavoured one once.”<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>Harry turned over his card and read: Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the 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 an d 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?”<|quote|>Ron sounded amazed.</|quote|>“Weird!” Harry stared as Dumbledore sidled ba ck 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 Hengis t 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 Bolt’s Every-Flavour Beans. “You want to be careful with those,” Ron warned Harry. “When they say every flavour, they mean every flavour – you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and pe ppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a bogey-flavoured one once.”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>And Harry let go. Cold, damp air rushed past him as he fell down, down, down and – FLUMP With a funny, muffled sort of thump he landed on something soft. He sat up and felt around, his eyes not used to the gloom. It felt as though he was sitting on some sort of plant. “It’s OK!” he called up to the light the size of a postage stamp which was the open trapdoor. “It’s a soft landing, you can jump!” Ron followed straight away. He landed sprawled next to Harry. “What’s this stuff?” were his first words. “Dunno, sort of plant thing. I suppose it’s here to break the fall. Come on, Hermione!” The distant music stopped. There was a loud bark from the dog, but Hermione had already jumped. She landed on Harry’s other side. “We must be miles under the school,”<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>“Lucky this plant thing’s here, really,” said Ron. “Lucky!” shrieked Hermione. “Look at you both!” She leapt up and struggled towards a damp wall. She had to struggle because the moment she had landed, the plant had started to twist snake-like tendrils around her ankles. As for Harry and Ron, their legs had already been bound tightl y in long creepers without their noticing. Hermione had managed to free herself before the plant got a firm grip on her. Now she watched in horror as the two boys fought to pull the plant off them, but the more they strained against it, the tighter and faster the plant wound around them.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>And Harry let go. Cold, damp air rushed past him as he fell down, down, down and – FLUMP With a funny, muffled sort of thump he landed on something soft. He sat up and felt around, his eyes not used to the gloom. It felt as though he was sitting on some sort of plant. “It’s OK!” he called up to the light the size of a postage stamp which was the open trapdoor. “It’s a soft landing, you can jump!” Ron followed straight away. He landed sprawled next to Harry. “What’s this stuff?” were his first words. “Dunno, sort of plant thing. I suppose it’s here to break the fall. Come on, Hermione!” The distant music stopped. There was a loud bark from the dog, but Hermione had already jumped. She landed on Harry’s other side. “We must be miles under the school,”<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>“Lucky this plant thing’s here, really,” said Ron. “Lucky!” shrieked Hermione. “Look at you both!” She leapt up and struggled towards a damp wall. She had to struggle because the moment she had landed, the plant had started to twist snake-like tendrils around her ankles. As for Harry and Ron, their legs had already been bound tightl y in long creepers without their noticing. Hermione had managed to free herself before the plant got a firm grip on her. Now she watched in horror as the two boys fought to pull the plant off them, but the more they strained against it, the tighter and faster the plant wound around them.<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>And Harry let go. Cold, damp air rushed past him as he fell down, down, down and – FLUMP With a funny, muffled sort of thump he landed on something soft. He sat up and felt around, his eyes not used to the gloom. It felt as though he was sitting on some sort of plant. “It’s OK!” he called up to the light the size of a postage stamp which was the open trapdoor. “It’s a soft landing, you can jump!” Ron followed straight away. He landed sprawled next to Harry. “What’s this stuff?” were his first words. “Dunno, sort of plant thing. I suppose it’s here to break the fall. Come on, Hermione!” The distant music stopped. There was a loud bark from the dog, but Hermione had already jumped. She landed on Harry’s other side. “We must be miles under the school,”<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>“Lucky this plant thing’s here, really,” said Ron. “Lucky!” shrieked Hermione. “Look at you both!” She leapt up and struggled towards a damp wall. She had to struggle because the moment she had landed, the plant had started to twist snake-like tendrils around her ankles. As for Harry and Ron, their legs had already been bound tightl y in long creepers without their noticing. Hermione had managed to free herself before the plant got a firm grip on her. Now she watched in horror as the two boys fought to pull the plant off them, but the more they strained against it, the tighter and faster the plant wound around them.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>And Harry let go. Cold, damp air rushed past him as he fell down, down, down and – FLUMP With a funny, muffled sort of thump he landed on something soft. He sat up and felt around, his eyes not used to the gloom. It felt as though he was sitting on some sort of plant. “It’s OK!” he called up to the light the size of a postage stamp which was the open trapdoor. “It’s a soft landing, you can jump!” Ron followed straight away. He landed sprawled next to Harry. “What’s this stuff?” were his first words. “Dunno, sort of plant thing. I suppose it’s here to break the fall. Come on, Hermione!” The distant music stopped. There was a loud bark from the dog, but Hermione had already jumped. She landed on Harry’s other side. “We must be miles under the school,”<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>“Lucky this plant thing’s here, really,” said Ron. “Lucky!” shrieked Hermione. “Look at you both!” She leapt up and struggled towards a damp wall. She had to struggle because the moment she had landed, the plant had started to twist snake-like tendrils around her ankles. As for Harry and Ron, their legs had already been bound tightl y in long creepers without their noticing. Hermione had managed to free herself before the plant got a firm grip on her. Now she watched in horror as the two boys fought to pull the plant off them, but the more they strained against it, the tighter and faster the plant wound around them.<|speaker|> | <|context|>And Harry let go. Cold, damp air rushed past him as he fell down, down, down and – FLUMP With a funny, muffled sort of thump he landed on something soft. He sat up and felt around, his eyes not used to the gloom. It felt as though he was sitting on some sort of plant. “It’s OK!” he called up to the light the size of a postage stamp which was the open trapdoor. “It’s a soft landing, you can jump!” Ron followed straight away. He landed sprawled next to Harry. “What’s this stuff?” were his first words. “Dunno, sort of plant thing. I suppose it’s here to break the fall. Come on, Hermione!” The distant music stopped. There was a loud bark from the dog, but Hermione had already jumped. She landed on Harry’s other side. “We must be miles under the school,”<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>“Lucky this plant thing’s here, really,” said Ron. “Lucky!” shrieked Hermione. “Look at you both!” She leapt up and struggled towards a damp wall. She had to struggle because the moment she had landed, the plant had started to twist snake-like tendrils around her ankles. As for Harry and Ron, their legs had already been bound tightl y in long creepers without their noticing. Hermione had managed to free herself before the plant got a firm grip on her. Now she watched in horror as the two boys fought to pull the plant off them, but the more they strained against it, the tighter and faster the plant wound around them.<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>And Harry let go. Cold, damp air rushed past him as he fell down, down, down and – FLUMP With a funny, muffled sort of thump he landed on something soft. He sat up and felt around, his eyes not used to the gloom. It felt as though he was sitting on some sort of plant. “It’s OK!” he called up to the light the size of a postage stamp which was the open trapdoor. “It’s a soft landing, you can jump!” Ron followed straight away. He landed sprawled next to Harry. “What’s this stuff?” were his first words. “Dunno, sort of plant thing. I suppose it’s here to break the fall. Come on, Hermione!” The distant music stopped. There was a loud bark from the dog, but Hermione had already jumped. She landed on Harry’s other side. “We must be miles under the school,”<|quote|>she said.</|quote|>“Lucky this plant thing’s here, really,” said Ron. “Lucky!” shrieked Hermione. “Look at you both!” She leapt up and struggled towards a damp wall. She had to struggle because the moment she had landed, the plant had started to twist snake-like tendrils around her ankles. As for Harry and Ron, their legs had already been bound tightl y in long creepers without their noticing. Hermione had managed to free herself before the plant got a firm grip on her. Now she watched in horror as the two boys fought to pull the plant off them, but the more they strained against it, the tighter and faster the plant wound around them.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“although that feels like it’s about to fall off. Malfoy told Mada m Pomfrey he wanted to borrow one of my books so he could come and have a good laugh at me. He kept threatening to tell her what really bit me – I’ve told her it was a dog but I don’t think she believes me – I shouldn’t have hit him at the Quidditch match, that’s why he’s doing this.” Harry and Hermione tried to calm Ron down. “It’ll all be over at midnight on Saturday,” said Hermione, but this didn’t soothe Ron at all. On the co ntrary, he sat bolt upright and broke into a sweat. “Midnight on Saturday!” he said in a hoarse voice. “Oh no – oh no – I’ve just remembered – Charlie’s le tter was in that book Malfoy took, he’s going to know we’re getting rid of Norbert.” Harry and Hermione didn’t get a chance to answer. Madam Pomfrey came over at that moment and made them leave, saying Ron needed sleep. * “It’s too late to change the plan now,”<|quote|>Harry told Hermione.</|quote|>“We haven’t got time to send Charlie another owl and this could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert. We’ll have to risk it. And we have got the Invisibility Cloak, Malfoy doesn’t know about that.” They found Fang the boarhound sitti ng outside with a bandaged tail when they went to tell Hagrid, who opened a window to talk to them. “I won’t let you in,” he puffed. “Norbert’s at a tricky stage – noth-in’ I can’t handle.” When they told him about Charlie’s letter, his eyes filled with tears, although that might have been because Norbert had just bitten him on the leg.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>“although that feels like it’s about to fall off. Malfoy told Mada m Pomfrey he wanted to borrow one of my books so he could come and have a good laugh at me. He kept threatening to tell her what really bit me – I’ve told her it was a dog but I don’t think she believes me – I shouldn’t have hit him at the Quidditch match, that’s why he’s doing this.” Harry and Hermione tried to calm Ron down. “It’ll all be over at midnight on Saturday,” said Hermione, but this didn’t soothe Ron at all. On the co ntrary, he sat bolt upright and broke into a sweat. “Midnight on Saturday!” he said in a hoarse voice. “Oh no – oh no – I’ve just remembered – Charlie’s le tter was in that book Malfoy took, he’s going to know we’re getting rid of Norbert.” Harry and Hermione didn’t get a chance to answer. Madam Pomfrey came over at that moment and made them leave, saying Ron needed sleep. * “It’s too late to change the plan now,”<|quote|>Harry told Hermione.</|quote|>“We haven’t got time to send Charlie another owl and this could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert. We’ll have to risk it. And we have got the Invisibility Cloak, Malfoy doesn’t know about that.” They found Fang the boarhound sitti ng outside with a bandaged tail when they went to tell Hagrid, who opened a window to talk to them. “I won’t let you in,” he puffed. “Norbert’s at a tricky stage – noth-in’ I can’t handle.” When they told him about Charlie’s letter, his eyes filled with tears, although that might have been because Norbert had just bitten him on the leg.<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“although that feels like it’s about to fall off. Malfoy told Mada m Pomfrey he wanted to borrow one of my books so he could come and have a good laugh at me. He kept threatening to tell her what really bit me – I’ve told her it was a dog but I don’t think she believes me – I shouldn’t have hit him at the Quidditch match, that’s why he’s doing this.” Harry and Hermione tried to calm Ron down. “It’ll all be over at midnight on Saturday,” said Hermione, but this didn’t soothe Ron at all. On the co ntrary, he sat bolt upright and broke into a sweat. “Midnight on Saturday!” he said in a hoarse voice. “Oh no – oh no – I’ve just remembered – Charlie’s le tter was in that book Malfoy took, he’s going to know we’re getting rid of Norbert.” Harry and Hermione didn’t get a chance to answer. Madam Pomfrey came over at that moment and made them leave, saying Ron needed sleep. * “It’s too late to change the plan now,”<|quote|>Harry told Hermione.</|quote|>“We haven’t got time to send Charlie another owl and this could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert. We’ll have to risk it. And we have got the Invisibility Cloak, Malfoy doesn’t know about that.” They found Fang the boarhound sitti ng outside with a bandaged tail when they went to tell Hagrid, who opened a window to talk to them. “I won’t let you in,” he puffed. “Norbert’s at a tricky stage – noth-in’ I can’t handle.” When they told him about Charlie’s letter, his eyes filled with tears, although that might have been because Norbert had just bitten him on the leg.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“although that feels like it’s about to fall off. Malfoy told Mada m Pomfrey he wanted to borrow one of my books so he could come and have a good laugh at me. He kept threatening to tell her what really bit me – I’ve told her it was a dog but I don’t think she believes me – I shouldn’t have hit him at the Quidditch match, that’s why he’s doing this.” Harry and Hermione tried to calm Ron down. “It’ll all be over at midnight on Saturday,” said Hermione, but this didn’t soothe Ron at all. On the co ntrary, he sat bolt upright and broke into a sweat. “Midnight on Saturday!” he said in a hoarse voice. “Oh no – oh no – I’ve just remembered – Charlie’s le tter was in that book Malfoy took, he’s going to know we’re getting rid of Norbert.” Harry and Hermione didn’t get a chance to answer. Madam Pomfrey came over at that moment and made them leave, saying Ron needed sleep. * “It’s too late to change the plan now,”<|quote|>Harry told Hermione.</|quote|>“We haven’t got time to send Charlie another owl and this could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert. We’ll have to risk it. And we have got the Invisibility Cloak, Malfoy doesn’t know about that.” They found Fang the boarhound sitti ng outside with a bandaged tail when they went to tell Hagrid, who opened a window to talk to them. “I won’t let you in,” he puffed. “Norbert’s at a tricky stage – noth-in’ I can’t handle.” When they told him about Charlie’s letter, his eyes filled with tears, although that might have been because Norbert had just bitten him on the leg.<|speaker|> | <|context|>“although that feels like it’s about to fall off. Malfoy told Mada m Pomfrey he wanted to borrow one of my books so he could come and have a good laugh at me. He kept threatening to tell her what really bit me – I’ve told her it was a dog but I don’t think she believes me – I shouldn’t have hit him at the Quidditch match, that’s why he’s doing this.” Harry and Hermione tried to calm Ron down. “It’ll all be over at midnight on Saturday,” said Hermione, but this didn’t soothe Ron at all. On the co ntrary, he sat bolt upright and broke into a sweat. “Midnight on Saturday!” he said in a hoarse voice. “Oh no – oh no – I’ve just remembered – Charlie’s le tter was in that book Malfoy took, he’s going to know we’re getting rid of Norbert.” Harry and Hermione didn’t get a chance to answer. Madam Pomfrey came over at that moment and made them leave, saying Ron needed sleep. * “It’s too late to change the plan now,”<|quote|>Harry told Hermione.</|quote|>“We haven’t got time to send Charlie another owl and this could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert. We’ll have to risk it. And we have got the Invisibility Cloak, Malfoy doesn’t know about that.” They found Fang the boarhound sitti ng outside with a bandaged tail when they went to tell Hagrid, who opened a window to talk to them. “I won’t let you in,” he puffed. “Norbert’s at a tricky stage – noth-in’ I can’t handle.” When they told him about Charlie’s letter, his eyes filled with tears, although that might have been because Norbert had just bitten him on the leg.<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>“although that feels like it’s about to fall off. Malfoy told Mada m Pomfrey he wanted to borrow one of my books so he could come and have a good laugh at me. He kept threatening to tell her what really bit me – I’ve told her it was a dog but I don’t think she believes me – I shouldn’t have hit him at the Quidditch match, that’s why he’s doing this.” Harry and Hermione tried to calm Ron down. “It’ll all be over at midnight on Saturday,” said Hermione, but this didn’t soothe Ron at all. On the co ntrary, he sat bolt upright and broke into a sweat. “Midnight on Saturday!” he said in a hoarse voice. “Oh no – oh no – I’ve just remembered – Charlie’s le tter was in that book Malfoy took, he’s going to know we’re getting rid of Norbert.” Harry and Hermione didn’t get a chance to answer. Madam Pomfrey came over at that moment and made them leave, saying Ron needed sleep. * “It’s too late to change the plan now,”<|quote|>Harry told Hermione.</|quote|>“We haven’t got time to send Charlie another owl and this could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert. We’ll have to risk it. And we have got the Invisibility Cloak, Malfoy doesn’t know about that.” They found Fang the boarhound sitti ng outside with a bandaged tail when they went to tell Hagrid, who opened a window to talk to them. “I won’t let you in,” he puffed. “Norbert’s at a tricky stage – noth-in’ I can’t handle.” When they told him about Charlie’s letter, his eyes filled with tears, although that might have been because Norbert had just bitten him on the leg.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>He pointed at Harry’s forehead. Harry pulled back his fringe to show the lightning scar. Ron stared. “So that’s where You-Know-Who –?” “Yes,” said Harry, “but I can’t remember it.” “Nothing?” said Ron eagerly. “Well – I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else.” “Wow,” said Ron. He sat and stared at Harry for a few moments, then, as though he had suddenly realised what he was doing, he looked quickly out of the window again. “Are all your family wizards?” asked Harry, who found Ron just as interesting as Ron found him. “Er – yes, I think so,” said Ron. “I think Mum’s got a second cousin who’s an accountant, but we never talk about him.” “So you must know loads of magic already.”<|quote|>The Weasleys were clearly one of those old wizarding families the pale boy in Diagon Alley had talked about.</|quote|>“I heard you went to live with Muggles,” said Ron. “What are they like?” “Horrible – well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I’d had three wizard brothers.” “Five,” said Ron. For some reason, he was looking gloomy. “I’m the sixth in our family to go to Hogwar ts. You could say I’ve got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left – Bill was Head Boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy’s a Prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they’re really funny . Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it’s no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I’ve got Bill’s old robes, Charlie’s old wand and Percy’s old rat.”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>He pointed at Harry’s forehead. Harry pulled back his fringe to show the lightning scar. Ron stared. “So that’s where You-Know-Who –?” “Yes,” said Harry, “but I can’t remember it.” “Nothing?” said Ron eagerly. “Well – I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else.” “Wow,” said Ron. He sat and stared at Harry for a few moments, then, as though he had suddenly realised what he was doing, he looked quickly out of the window again. “Are all your family wizards?” asked Harry, who found Ron just as interesting as Ron found him. “Er – yes, I think so,” said Ron. “I think Mum’s got a second cousin who’s an accountant, but we never talk about him.” “So you must know loads of magic already.”<|quote|>The Weasleys were clearly one of those old wizarding families the pale boy in Diagon Alley had talked about.</|quote|>“I heard you went to live with Muggles,” said Ron. “What are they like?” “Horrible – well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I’d had three wizard brothers.” “Five,” said Ron. For some reason, he was looking gloomy. “I’m the sixth in our family to go to Hogwar ts. You could say I’ve got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left – Bill was Head Boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy’s a Prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they’re really funny . Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it’s no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I’ve got Bill’s old robes, Charlie’s old wand and Percy’s old rat.”<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>He pointed at Harry’s forehead. Harry pulled back his fringe to show the lightning scar. Ron stared. “So that’s where You-Know-Who –?” “Yes,” said Harry, “but I can’t remember it.” “Nothing?” said Ron eagerly. “Well – I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else.” “Wow,” said Ron. He sat and stared at Harry for a few moments, then, as though he had suddenly realised what he was doing, he looked quickly out of the window again. “Are all your family wizards?” asked Harry, who found Ron just as interesting as Ron found him. “Er – yes, I think so,” said Ron. “I think Mum’s got a second cousin who’s an accountant, but we never talk about him.” “So you must know loads of magic already.”<|quote|>The Weasleys were clearly one of those old wizarding families the pale boy in Diagon Alley had talked about.</|quote|>“I heard you went to live with Muggles,” said Ron. “What are they like?” “Horrible – well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I’d had three wizard brothers.” “Five,” said Ron. For some reason, he was looking gloomy. “I’m the sixth in our family to go to Hogwar ts. You could say I’ve got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left – Bill was Head Boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy’s a Prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they’re really funny . Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it’s no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I’ve got Bill’s old robes, Charlie’s old wand and Percy’s old rat.”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>He pointed at Harry’s forehead. Harry pulled back his fringe to show the lightning scar. Ron stared. “So that’s where You-Know-Who –?” “Yes,” said Harry, “but I can’t remember it.” “Nothing?” said Ron eagerly. “Well – I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else.” “Wow,” said Ron. He sat and stared at Harry for a few moments, then, as though he had suddenly realised what he was doing, he looked quickly out of the window again. “Are all your family wizards?” asked Harry, who found Ron just as interesting as Ron found him. “Er – yes, I think so,” said Ron. “I think Mum’s got a second cousin who’s an accountant, but we never talk about him.” “So you must know loads of magic already.”<|quote|>The Weasleys were clearly one of those old wizarding families the pale boy in Diagon Alley had talked about.</|quote|>“I heard you went to live with Muggles,” said Ron. “What are they like?” “Horrible – well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I’d had three wizard brothers.” “Five,” said Ron. For some reason, he was looking gloomy. “I’m the sixth in our family to go to Hogwar ts. You could say I’ve got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left – Bill was Head Boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy’s a Prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they’re really funny . Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it’s no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I’ve got Bill’s old robes, Charlie’s old wand and Percy’s old rat.”<|speaker|> | <|context|>He pointed at Harry’s forehead. Harry pulled back his fringe to show the lightning scar. Ron stared. “So that’s where You-Know-Who –?” “Yes,” said Harry, “but I can’t remember it.” “Nothing?” said Ron eagerly. “Well – I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else.” “Wow,” said Ron. He sat and stared at Harry for a few moments, then, as though he had suddenly realised what he was doing, he looked quickly out of the window again. “Are all your family wizards?” asked Harry, who found Ron just as interesting as Ron found him. “Er – yes, I think so,” said Ron. “I think Mum’s got a second cousin who’s an accountant, but we never talk about him.” “So you must know loads of magic already.”<|quote|>The Weasleys were clearly one of those old wizarding families the pale boy in Diagon Alley had talked about.</|quote|>“I heard you went to live with Muggles,” said Ron. “What are they like?” “Horrible – well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I’d had three wizard brothers.” “Five,” said Ron. For some reason, he was looking gloomy. “I’m the sixth in our family to go to Hogwar ts. You could say I’ve got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left – Bill was Head Boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy’s a Prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they’re really funny . Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it’s no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I’ve got Bill’s old robes, Charlie’s old wand and Percy’s old rat.”<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>He pointed at Harry’s forehead. Harry pulled back his fringe to show the lightning scar. Ron stared. “So that’s where You-Know-Who –?” “Yes,” said Harry, “but I can’t remember it.” “Nothing?” said Ron eagerly. “Well – I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else.” “Wow,” said Ron. He sat and stared at Harry for a few moments, then, as though he had suddenly realised what he was doing, he looked quickly out of the window again. “Are all your family wizards?” asked Harry, who found Ron just as interesting as Ron found him. “Er – yes, I think so,” said Ron. “I think Mum’s got a second cousin who’s an accountant, but we never talk about him.” “So you must know loads of magic already.”<|quote|>The Weasleys were clearly one of those old wizarding families the pale boy in Diagon Alley had talked about.</|quote|>“I heard you went to live with Muggles,” said Ron. “What are they like?” “Horrible – well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I’d had three wizard brothers.” “Five,” said Ron. For some reason, he was looking gloomy. “I’m the sixth in our family to go to Hogwar ts. You could say I’ve got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left – Bill was Head Boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy’s a Prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they’re really funny . Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it’s no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I’ve got Bill’s old robes, Charlie’s old wand and Percy’s old rat.”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“But that’s no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumours.” She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her some thing, but he didn’t, so she went on: “A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?” “It certainly seems so,” said Dumbledore. “We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a sherbet lemon?” “A what?”<|quote|>“A sherbet lemon. They’re a kind of Muggle sweet I’m rather fond of.”</|quote|>“No, thank you,” said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn’t think this was the moment for sherbet lemons. “As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone –” “My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this ‘You-Know-Who’ nonsense – for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort.” Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two sherbet lemons, seemed not to notice. “It all gets so confusing if we keep saying ‘You-Know-Who’. I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort’s name.”<|speaker|>Albus Dumbledore<eos> | <bos><|context|>“But that’s no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumours.” She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her some thing, but he didn’t, so she went on: “A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?” “It certainly seems so,” said Dumbledore. “We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a sherbet lemon?” “A what?”<|quote|>“A sherbet lemon. They’re a kind of Muggle sweet I’m rather fond of.”</|quote|>“No, thank you,” said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn’t think this was the moment for sherbet lemons. “As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone –” “My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this ‘You-Know-Who’ nonsense – for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort.” Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two sherbet lemons, seemed not to notice. “It all gets so confusing if we keep saying ‘You-Know-Who’. I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort’s name.”<|speaker|> | Albus Dumbledore | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“But that’s no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumours.” She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her some thing, but he didn’t, so she went on: “A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?” “It certainly seems so,” said Dumbledore. “We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a sherbet lemon?” “A what?”<|quote|>“A sherbet lemon. They’re a kind of Muggle sweet I’m rather fond of.”</|quote|>“No, thank you,” said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn’t think this was the moment for sherbet lemons. “As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone –” “My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this ‘You-Know-Who’ nonsense – for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort.” Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two sherbet lemons, seemed not to notice. “It all gets so confusing if we keep saying ‘You-Know-Who’. I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort’s name.”<|speaker|>Albus Dumbledore<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“But that’s no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumours.” She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her some thing, but he didn’t, so she went on: “A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?” “It certainly seems so,” said Dumbledore. “We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a sherbet lemon?” “A what?”<|quote|>“A sherbet lemon. They’re a kind of Muggle sweet I’m rather fond of.”</|quote|>“No, thank you,” said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn’t think this was the moment for sherbet lemons. “As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone –” “My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this ‘You-Know-Who’ nonsense – for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort.” Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two sherbet lemons, seemed not to notice. “It all gets so confusing if we keep saying ‘You-Know-Who’. I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort’s name.”<|speaker|> | <|context|>“But that’s no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumours.” She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her some thing, but he didn’t, so she went on: “A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?” “It certainly seems so,” said Dumbledore. “We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a sherbet lemon?” “A what?”<|quote|>“A sherbet lemon. They’re a kind of Muggle sweet I’m rather fond of.”</|quote|>“No, thank you,” said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn’t think this was the moment for sherbet lemons. “As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone –” “My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this ‘You-Know-Who’ nonsense – for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort.” Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two sherbet lemons, seemed not to notice. “It all gets so confusing if we keep saying ‘You-Know-Who’. I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort’s name.”<|speaker|>Albus Dumbledore | <|context|>“But that’s no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumours.” She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her some thing, but he didn’t, so she went on: “A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?” “It certainly seems so,” said Dumbledore. “We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a sherbet lemon?” “A what?”<|quote|>“A sherbet lemon. They’re a kind of Muggle sweet I’m rather fond of.”</|quote|>“No, thank you,” said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn’t think this was the moment for sherbet lemons. “As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone –” “My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this ‘You-Know-Who’ nonsense – for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort.” Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two sherbet lemons, seemed not to notice. “It all gets so confusing if we keep saying ‘You-Know-Who’. I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort’s name.”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn’t wait to get started, but soon realised they weren’t going to be changing th e furniture into animals for a long time. After making a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the cla ss how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione a rare smile. The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defence Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell’s le ssons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he’d met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren’t sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went. Harry was very relieved to find out that he wasn’t miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like him, hadn’t had any idea that they were witches and wizards. There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn’t have much of a head start. Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once.<|quote|>“What have we got today?”</|quote|>Harry asked Ron as he poured sugar on his porridge. “Double Potions with the Slytherins,” said Ron. “Snape’s Head of Slytherin house. They say he always favours them – we’ll be able to see if it’s true.” “Wish McGonagall favoured us,” said Harry. Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor house, but it hadn’t stopped her giving them a huge pile of homework the day before. Just then, the post arrived. Harry had got used to this by now, but it had given him a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners and dropping letters and packages on to their laps. Hedwig hadn’t brought Harry anythi ng so far. She sometimes flew in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school ow ls. This morning, however, she fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note on to Harry’s plate. Harry tore it open at once. Dear Harry, (it said, in a very untidy scrawl) I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig. Hagrid Harry borrowed Ron’s quill, scribbled<|speaker|>Harry Potter<eos> | <bos><|context|>Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn’t wait to get started, but soon realised they weren’t going to be changing th e furniture into animals for a long time. After making a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the cla ss how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione a rare smile. The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defence Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell’s le ssons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he’d met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren’t sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went. Harry was very relieved to find out that he wasn’t miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like him, hadn’t had any idea that they were witches and wizards. There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn’t have much of a head start. Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once.<|quote|>“What have we got today?”</|quote|>Harry asked Ron as he poured sugar on his porridge. “Double Potions with the Slytherins,” said Ron. “Snape’s Head of Slytherin house. They say he always favours them – we’ll be able to see if it’s true.” “Wish McGonagall favoured us,” said Harry. Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor house, but it hadn’t stopped her giving them a huge pile of homework the day before. Just then, the post arrived. Harry had got used to this by now, but it had given him a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners and dropping letters and packages on to their laps. Hedwig hadn’t brought Harry anythi ng so far. She sometimes flew in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school ow ls. This morning, however, she fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note on to Harry’s plate. Harry tore it open at once. Dear Harry, (it said, in a very untidy scrawl) I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig. Hagrid Harry borrowed Ron’s quill, scribbled<|speaker|> | Harry Potter | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn’t wait to get started, but soon realised they weren’t going to be changing th e furniture into animals for a long time. After making a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the cla ss how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione a rare smile. The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defence Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell’s le ssons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he’d met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren’t sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went. Harry was very relieved to find out that he wasn’t miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like him, hadn’t had any idea that they were witches and wizards. There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn’t have much of a head start. Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once.<|quote|>“What have we got today?”</|quote|>Harry asked Ron as he poured sugar on his porridge. “Double Potions with the Slytherins,” said Ron. “Snape’s Head of Slytherin house. They say he always favours them – we’ll be able to see if it’s true.” “Wish McGonagall favoured us,” said Harry. Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor house, but it hadn’t stopped her giving them a huge pile of homework the day before. Just then, the post arrived. Harry had got used to this by now, but it had given him a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners and dropping letters and packages on to their laps. Hedwig hadn’t brought Harry anythi ng so far. She sometimes flew in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school ow ls. This morning, however, she fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note on to Harry’s plate. Harry tore it open at once. Dear Harry, (it said, in a very untidy scrawl) I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig. Hagrid Harry borrowed Ron’s quill, scribbled<|speaker|>Harry Potter<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn’t wait to get started, but soon realised they weren’t going to be changing th e furniture into animals for a long time. After making a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the cla ss how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione a rare smile. The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defence Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell’s le ssons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he’d met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren’t sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went. Harry was very relieved to find out that he wasn’t miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like him, hadn’t had any idea that they were witches and wizards. There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn’t have much of a head start. Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once.<|quote|>“What have we got today?”</|quote|>Harry asked Ron as he poured sugar on his porridge. “Double Potions with the Slytherins,” said Ron. “Snape’s Head of Slytherin house. They say he always favours them – we’ll be able to see if it’s true.” “Wish McGonagall favoured us,” said Harry. Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor house, but it hadn’t stopped her giving them a huge pile of homework the day before. Just then, the post arrived. Harry had got used to this by now, but it had given him a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners and dropping letters and packages on to their laps. Hedwig hadn’t brought Harry anythi ng so far. She sometimes flew in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school ow ls. This morning, however, she fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note on to Harry’s plate. Harry tore it open at once. Dear Harry, (it said, in a very untidy scrawl) I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig. Hagrid Harry borrowed Ron’s quill, scribbled<|speaker|> | <|context|>Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn’t wait to get started, but soon realised they weren’t going to be changing th e furniture into animals for a long time. After making a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the cla ss how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione a rare smile. The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defence Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell’s le ssons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he’d met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren’t sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went. Harry was very relieved to find out that he wasn’t miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like him, hadn’t had any idea that they were witches and wizards. There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn’t have much of a head start. Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once.<|quote|>“What have we got today?”</|quote|>Harry asked Ron as he poured sugar on his porridge. “Double Potions with the Slytherins,” said Ron. “Snape’s Head of Slytherin house. They say he always favours them – we’ll be able to see if it’s true.” “Wish McGonagall favoured us,” said Harry. Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor house, but it hadn’t stopped her giving them a huge pile of homework the day before. Just then, the post arrived. Harry had got used to this by now, but it had given him a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners and dropping letters and packages on to their laps. Hedwig hadn’t brought Harry anythi ng so far. She sometimes flew in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school ow ls. This morning, however, she fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note on to Harry’s plate. Harry tore it open at once. Dear Harry, (it said, in a very untidy scrawl) I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig. Hagrid Harry borrowed Ron’s quill, scribbled<|speaker|>Harry Potter | <|context|>Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed and couldn’t wait to get started, but soon realised they weren’t going to be changing th e furniture into animals for a long time. After making a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger had made any difference to her match; Professor McGonagall showed the cla ss how it had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione a rare smile. The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defence Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell’s le ssons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he’d met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren’t sure they believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, they had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went. Harry was very relieved to find out that he wasn’t miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like him, hadn’t had any idea that they were witches and wizards. There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn’t have much of a head start. Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once.<|quote|>“What have we got today?”</|quote|>Harry asked Ron as he poured sugar on his porridge. “Double Potions with the Slytherins,” said Ron. “Snape’s Head of Slytherin house. They say he always favours them – we’ll be able to see if it’s true.” “Wish McGonagall favoured us,” said Harry. Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor house, but it hadn’t stopped her giving them a huge pile of homework the day before. Just then, the post arrived. Harry had got used to this by now, but it had given him a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners and dropping letters and packages on to their laps. Hedwig hadn’t brought Harry anythi ng so far. She sometimes flew in to nibble his ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school ow ls. This morning, however, she fluttered down between the marmalade and the sugar bowl and dropped a note on to Harry’s plate. Harry tore it open at once. Dear Harry, (it said, in a very untidy scrawl) I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig. Hagrid Harry borrowed Ron’s quill, scribbled<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back towards the ground. Harry saw, as though in slow motion , the ball rise up in the air and then start to fall. He leant forward and pointed his broom handle down – next second he was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball – wind whistled in his ears, mingled with the screams of people watching – he stretched out his hand – a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight, and he toppled gently on to the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist. “HARRY POTTER!” His heart sank faster than he’d just dived. Professor McGonagall was running towards them. He got to his feet, trembling.<|quote|>“Never – in all my time at Hogwarts –”</|quote|>Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, “– how dare you – might have broken your neck –” “It wasn’t his fault, Professor –” “Be quiet, Miss Patil –” “But Malfoy –” “That’s enough , Mr Weasley. Potter, follow me, now.” Harry caught sight of Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle’s triumphant faces as he left, walking numbly in Professor McGonagall’s wake as she strode towards the castle. He was going to be expelled, he just knew it. He wanted to say something to defend himself, but there seemed to be something wrong with his vo ice. Professor McGonagall was sweeping along without even looking at him; he had to jog to keep up. Now he’d done it. He hadn’t even lasted two weeks. He’d be packing his bags in ten minutes. What would the Dursleys say when he turned up on the doorstep? Up the front steps, up the ma rble staircase inside, and still Professor McGonagall didn’t say a wo rd to him. She wrenched open doors and marched along corridors with Harry trotting miserably behind her. Maybe she was taking him to Dumbledore. He thought of Hagrid, expelled but allowed to stay on as gamekeeper. Perhaps he could be Hagrid’s assistant. His stomach twisted as he imagined it, watching Ron and the others becoming wizards while he stumped around the grounds, carrying Hagrid’s bag. Professor McGonagall stopped outside a classroom. She opened the door and poked her head inside.<|speaker|>Professor McGonagall<eos> | <bos><|context|>he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back towards the ground. Harry saw, as though in slow motion , the ball rise up in the air and then start to fall. He leant forward and pointed his broom handle down – next second he was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball – wind whistled in his ears, mingled with the screams of people watching – he stretched out his hand – a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight, and he toppled gently on to the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist. “HARRY POTTER!” His heart sank faster than he’d just dived. Professor McGonagall was running towards them. He got to his feet, trembling.<|quote|>“Never – in all my time at Hogwarts –”</|quote|>Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, “– how dare you – might have broken your neck –” “It wasn’t his fault, Professor –” “Be quiet, Miss Patil –” “But Malfoy –” “That’s enough , Mr Weasley. Potter, follow me, now.” Harry caught sight of Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle’s triumphant faces as he left, walking numbly in Professor McGonagall’s wake as she strode towards the castle. He was going to be expelled, he just knew it. He wanted to say something to defend himself, but there seemed to be something wrong with his vo ice. Professor McGonagall was sweeping along without even looking at him; he had to jog to keep up. Now he’d done it. He hadn’t even lasted two weeks. He’d be packing his bags in ten minutes. What would the Dursleys say when he turned up on the doorstep? Up the front steps, up the ma rble staircase inside, and still Professor McGonagall didn’t say a wo rd to him. She wrenched open doors and marched along corridors with Harry trotting miserably behind her. Maybe she was taking him to Dumbledore. He thought of Hagrid, expelled but allowed to stay on as gamekeeper. Perhaps he could be Hagrid’s assistant. His stomach twisted as he imagined it, watching Ron and the others becoming wizards while he stumped around the grounds, carrying Hagrid’s bag. Professor McGonagall stopped outside a classroom. She opened the door and poked her head inside.<|speaker|> | Professor McGonagall | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back towards the ground. Harry saw, as though in slow motion , the ball rise up in the air and then start to fall. He leant forward and pointed his broom handle down – next second he was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball – wind whistled in his ears, mingled with the screams of people watching – he stretched out his hand – a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight, and he toppled gently on to the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist. “HARRY POTTER!” His heart sank faster than he’d just dived. Professor McGonagall was running towards them. He got to his feet, trembling.<|quote|>“Never – in all my time at Hogwarts –”</|quote|>Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, “– how dare you – might have broken your neck –” “It wasn’t his fault, Professor –” “Be quiet, Miss Patil –” “But Malfoy –” “That’s enough , Mr Weasley. Potter, follow me, now.” Harry caught sight of Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle’s triumphant faces as he left, walking numbly in Professor McGonagall’s wake as she strode towards the castle. He was going to be expelled, he just knew it. He wanted to say something to defend himself, but there seemed to be something wrong with his vo ice. Professor McGonagall was sweeping along without even looking at him; he had to jog to keep up. Now he’d done it. He hadn’t even lasted two weeks. He’d be packing his bags in ten minutes. What would the Dursleys say when he turned up on the doorstep? Up the front steps, up the ma rble staircase inside, and still Professor McGonagall didn’t say a wo rd to him. She wrenched open doors and marched along corridors with Harry trotting miserably behind her. Maybe she was taking him to Dumbledore. He thought of Hagrid, expelled but allowed to stay on as gamekeeper. Perhaps he could be Hagrid’s assistant. His stomach twisted as he imagined it, watching Ron and the others becoming wizards while he stumped around the grounds, carrying Hagrid’s bag. Professor McGonagall stopped outside a classroom. She opened the door and poked her head inside.<|speaker|>Professor McGonagall<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back towards the ground. Harry saw, as though in slow motion , the ball rise up in the air and then start to fall. He leant forward and pointed his broom handle down – next second he was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball – wind whistled in his ears, mingled with the screams of people watching – he stretched out his hand – a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight, and he toppled gently on to the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist. “HARRY POTTER!” His heart sank faster than he’d just dived. Professor McGonagall was running towards them. He got to his feet, trembling.<|quote|>“Never – in all my time at Hogwarts –”</|quote|>Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, “– how dare you – might have broken your neck –” “It wasn’t his fault, Professor –” “Be quiet, Miss Patil –” “But Malfoy –” “That’s enough , Mr Weasley. Potter, follow me, now.” Harry caught sight of Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle’s triumphant faces as he left, walking numbly in Professor McGonagall’s wake as she strode towards the castle. He was going to be expelled, he just knew it. He wanted to say something to defend himself, but there seemed to be something wrong with his vo ice. Professor McGonagall was sweeping along without even looking at him; he had to jog to keep up. Now he’d done it. He hadn’t even lasted two weeks. He’d be packing his bags in ten minutes. What would the Dursleys say when he turned up on the doorstep? Up the front steps, up the ma rble staircase inside, and still Professor McGonagall didn’t say a wo rd to him. She wrenched open doors and marched along corridors with Harry trotting miserably behind her. Maybe she was taking him to Dumbledore. He thought of Hagrid, expelled but allowed to stay on as gamekeeper. Perhaps he could be Hagrid’s assistant. His stomach twisted as he imagined it, watching Ron and the others becoming wizards while he stumped around the grounds, carrying Hagrid’s bag. Professor McGonagall stopped outside a classroom. She opened the door and poked her head inside.<|speaker|> | <|context|>he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back towards the ground. Harry saw, as though in slow motion , the ball rise up in the air and then start to fall. He leant forward and pointed his broom handle down – next second he was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball – wind whistled in his ears, mingled with the screams of people watching – he stretched out his hand – a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight, and he toppled gently on to the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist. “HARRY POTTER!” His heart sank faster than he’d just dived. Professor McGonagall was running towards them. He got to his feet, trembling.<|quote|>“Never – in all my time at Hogwarts –”</|quote|>Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, “– how dare you – might have broken your neck –” “It wasn’t his fault, Professor –” “Be quiet, Miss Patil –” “But Malfoy –” “That’s enough , Mr Weasley. Potter, follow me, now.” Harry caught sight of Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle’s triumphant faces as he left, walking numbly in Professor McGonagall’s wake as she strode towards the castle. He was going to be expelled, he just knew it. He wanted to say something to defend himself, but there seemed to be something wrong with his vo ice. Professor McGonagall was sweeping along without even looking at him; he had to jog to keep up. Now he’d done it. He hadn’t even lasted two weeks. He’d be packing his bags in ten minutes. What would the Dursleys say when he turned up on the doorstep? Up the front steps, up the ma rble staircase inside, and still Professor McGonagall didn’t say a wo rd to him. She wrenched open doors and marched along corridors with Harry trotting miserably behind her. Maybe she was taking him to Dumbledore. He thought of Hagrid, expelled but allowed to stay on as gamekeeper. Perhaps he could be Hagrid’s assistant. His stomach twisted as he imagined it, watching Ron and the others becoming wizards while he stumped around the grounds, carrying Hagrid’s bag. Professor McGonagall stopped outside a classroom. She opened the door and poked her head inside.<|speaker|>Professor McGonagall | <|context|>he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back towards the ground. Harry saw, as though in slow motion , the ball rise up in the air and then start to fall. He leant forward and pointed his broom handle down – next second he was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball – wind whistled in his ears, mingled with the screams of people watching – he stretched out his hand – a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight, and he toppled gently on to the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist. “HARRY POTTER!” His heart sank faster than he’d just dived. Professor McGonagall was running towards them. He got to his feet, trembling.<|quote|>“Never – in all my time at Hogwarts –”</|quote|>Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, “– how dare you – might have broken your neck –” “It wasn’t his fault, Professor –” “Be quiet, Miss Patil –” “But Malfoy –” “That’s enough , Mr Weasley. Potter, follow me, now.” Harry caught sight of Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle’s triumphant faces as he left, walking numbly in Professor McGonagall’s wake as she strode towards the castle. He was going to be expelled, he just knew it. He wanted to say something to defend himself, but there seemed to be something wrong with his vo ice. Professor McGonagall was sweeping along without even looking at him; he had to jog to keep up. Now he’d done it. He hadn’t even lasted two weeks. He’d be packing his bags in ten minutes. What would the Dursleys say when he turned up on the doorstep? Up the front steps, up the ma rble staircase inside, and still Professor McGonagall didn’t say a wo rd to him. She wrenched open doors and marched along corridors with Harry trotting miserably behind her. Maybe she was taking him to Dumbledore. He thought of Hagrid, expelled but allowed to stay on as gamekeeper. Perhaps he could be Hagrid’s assistant. His stomach twisted as he imagined it, watching Ron and the others becoming wizards while he stumped around the grounds, carrying Hagrid’s bag. Professor McGonagall stopped outside a classroom. She opened the door and poked her head inside.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>Harry turned over his card and read: Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the 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 an d 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.<|quote|>“Help yourself,”</|quote|>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 ba ck 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 Hengis t 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 Bolt’s Every-Flavour Beans.<|speaker|>Harry Potter<eos> | <bos><|context|>Harry turned over his card and read: Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the 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 an d 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.<|quote|>“Help yourself,”</|quote|>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 ba ck 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 Hengis t 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 Bolt’s Every-Flavour Beans.<|speaker|> | Harry Potter | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Harry turned over his card and read: Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the 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 an d 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.<|quote|>“Help yourself,”</|quote|>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 ba ck 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 Hengis t 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 Bolt’s Every-Flavour Beans.<|speaker|>Harry Potter<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Harry turned over his card and read: Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the 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 an d 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.<|quote|>“Help yourself,”</|quote|>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 ba ck 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 Hengis t 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 Bolt’s Every-Flavour Beans.<|speaker|> | <|context|>Harry turned over his card and read: Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the 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 an d 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.<|quote|>“Help yourself,”</|quote|>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 ba ck 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 Hengis t 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 Bolt’s Every-Flavour Beans.<|speaker|>Harry Potter | <|context|>Harry turned over his card and read: Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the 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 an d 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.<|quote|>“Help yourself,”</|quote|>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 ba ck 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 Hengis t 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 Bolt’s Every-Flavour Beans.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>Harry was quite sure the unsettled feeling didn’t have anything to do with work, though. He watched an owl flutter towards the school across the bright blue sky, a note clamped in its mouth. Hagrid was the only one who ever sent him letters. Hagrid would never betray Dumbledore. Hagrid would never tell anyone how to get past Fluffy … never … but – Harry suddenly jumped to his feet. “Where’re you going?” said Ron sleepily. “I’ve just thought of something,” said Harry. He had gone white.<|quote|>“We’ve got to go and see Hagrid, now.”</|quote|>“Why?” panted Hermione, hurrying to keep up. “Don’t you think it’s a bit odd, ” said Harry, scrambling up the grassy slope, “that what Hagrid wa nts more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket? How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it’s against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, don’t you think? Why didn’t I see it before?” “What are you on about?” said Ro n, but Harry, sprinting across the grounds towards the Forest, didn’t answer. Hagrid was sitting in an armchair outside his house; his trousers and sleeves were rolled up and he was shelling peas into a large bowl.<|speaker|>Harry Potter<eos> | <bos><|context|>Harry was quite sure the unsettled feeling didn’t have anything to do with work, though. He watched an owl flutter towards the school across the bright blue sky, a note clamped in its mouth. Hagrid was the only one who ever sent him letters. Hagrid would never betray Dumbledore. Hagrid would never tell anyone how to get past Fluffy … never … but – Harry suddenly jumped to his feet. “Where’re you going?” said Ron sleepily. “I’ve just thought of something,” said Harry. He had gone white.<|quote|>“We’ve got to go and see Hagrid, now.”</|quote|>“Why?” panted Hermione, hurrying to keep up. “Don’t you think it’s a bit odd, ” said Harry, scrambling up the grassy slope, “that what Hagrid wa nts more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket? How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it’s against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, don’t you think? Why didn’t I see it before?” “What are you on about?” said Ro n, but Harry, sprinting across the grounds towards the Forest, didn’t answer. Hagrid was sitting in an armchair outside his house; his trousers and sleeves were rolled up and he was shelling peas into a large bowl.<|speaker|> | Harry Potter | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Harry was quite sure the unsettled feeling didn’t have anything to do with work, though. He watched an owl flutter towards the school across the bright blue sky, a note clamped in its mouth. Hagrid was the only one who ever sent him letters. Hagrid would never betray Dumbledore. Hagrid would never tell anyone how to get past Fluffy … never … but – Harry suddenly jumped to his feet. “Where’re you going?” said Ron sleepily. “I’ve just thought of something,” said Harry. He had gone white.<|quote|>“We’ve got to go and see Hagrid, now.”</|quote|>“Why?” panted Hermione, hurrying to keep up. “Don’t you think it’s a bit odd, ” said Harry, scrambling up the grassy slope, “that what Hagrid wa nts more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket? How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it’s against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, don’t you think? Why didn’t I see it before?” “What are you on about?” said Ro n, but Harry, sprinting across the grounds towards the Forest, didn’t answer. Hagrid was sitting in an armchair outside his house; his trousers and sleeves were rolled up and he was shelling peas into a large bowl.<|speaker|>Harry Potter<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Harry was quite sure the unsettled feeling didn’t have anything to do with work, though. He watched an owl flutter towards the school across the bright blue sky, a note clamped in its mouth. Hagrid was the only one who ever sent him letters. Hagrid would never betray Dumbledore. Hagrid would never tell anyone how to get past Fluffy … never … but – Harry suddenly jumped to his feet. “Where’re you going?” said Ron sleepily. “I’ve just thought of something,” said Harry. He had gone white.<|quote|>“We’ve got to go and see Hagrid, now.”</|quote|>“Why?” panted Hermione, hurrying to keep up. “Don’t you think it’s a bit odd, ” said Harry, scrambling up the grassy slope, “that what Hagrid wa nts more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket? How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it’s against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, don’t you think? Why didn’t I see it before?” “What are you on about?” said Ro n, but Harry, sprinting across the grounds towards the Forest, didn’t answer. Hagrid was sitting in an armchair outside his house; his trousers and sleeves were rolled up and he was shelling peas into a large bowl.<|speaker|> | <|context|>Harry was quite sure the unsettled feeling didn’t have anything to do with work, though. He watched an owl flutter towards the school across the bright blue sky, a note clamped in its mouth. Hagrid was the only one who ever sent him letters. Hagrid would never betray Dumbledore. Hagrid would never tell anyone how to get past Fluffy … never … but – Harry suddenly jumped to his feet. “Where’re you going?” said Ron sleepily. “I’ve just thought of something,” said Harry. He had gone white.<|quote|>“We’ve got to go and see Hagrid, now.”</|quote|>“Why?” panted Hermione, hurrying to keep up. “Don’t you think it’s a bit odd, ” said Harry, scrambling up the grassy slope, “that what Hagrid wa nts more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket? How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it’s against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, don’t you think? Why didn’t I see it before?” “What are you on about?” said Ro n, but Harry, sprinting across the grounds towards the Forest, didn’t answer. Hagrid was sitting in an armchair outside his house; his trousers and sleeves were rolled up and he was shelling peas into a large bowl.<|speaker|>Harry Potter | <|context|>Harry was quite sure the unsettled feeling didn’t have anything to do with work, though. He watched an owl flutter towards the school across the bright blue sky, a note clamped in its mouth. Hagrid was the only one who ever sent him letters. Hagrid would never betray Dumbledore. Hagrid would never tell anyone how to get past Fluffy … never … but – Harry suddenly jumped to his feet. “Where’re you going?” said Ron sleepily. “I’ve just thought of something,” said Harry. He had gone white.<|quote|>“We’ve got to go and see Hagrid, now.”</|quote|>“Why?” panted Hermione, hurrying to keep up. “Don’t you think it’s a bit odd, ” said Harry, scrambling up the grassy slope, “that what Hagrid wa nts more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket? How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it’s against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, don’t you think? Why didn’t I see it before?” “What are you on about?” said Ro n, but Harry, sprinting across the grounds towards the Forest, didn’t answer. Hagrid was sitting in an armchair outside his house; his trousers and sleeves were rolled up and he was shelling peas into a large bowl.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>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 realising 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?”<|quote|>said Hagrid.</|quote|>“Harry Potter, not a wizard – you wait, you’ll be right famous at Hogwarts.” But Uncle Vernon wasn’t going to give in without a fight. “Haven’t I told you he’s not go ing?” 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’ Jame s 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–”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>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 realising 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?”<|quote|>said Hagrid.</|quote|>“Harry Potter, not a wizard – you wait, you’ll be right famous at Hogwarts.” But Uncle Vernon wasn’t going to give in without a fight. “Haven’t I told you he’s not go ing?” 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’ Jame s 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–”<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>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 realising 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?”<|quote|>said Hagrid.</|quote|>“Harry Potter, not a wizard – you wait, you’ll be right famous at Hogwarts.” But Uncle Vernon wasn’t going to give in without a fight. “Haven’t I told you he’s not go ing?” 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’ Jame s 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–”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>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 realising 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?”<|quote|>said Hagrid.</|quote|>“Harry Potter, not a wizard – you wait, you’ll be right famous at Hogwarts.” But Uncle Vernon wasn’t going to give in without a fight. “Haven’t I told you he’s not go ing?” 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’ Jame s 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–”<|speaker|> | <|context|>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 realising 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?”<|quote|>said Hagrid.</|quote|>“Harry Potter, not a wizard – you wait, you’ll be right famous at Hogwarts.” But Uncle Vernon wasn’t going to give in without a fight. “Haven’t I told you he’s not go ing?” 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’ Jame s 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–”<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>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 realising 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?”<|quote|>said Hagrid.</|quote|>“Harry Potter, not a wizard – you wait, you’ll be right famous at Hogwarts.” But Uncle Vernon wasn’t going to give in without a fight. “Haven’t I told you he’s not go ing?” 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’ Jame s 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–”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“everyone does. an’ like I told yeh, I’m Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts – ye h’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 learnt it all?” “All what?” asked Harry. “ALL WHAT?” Hagrid thundered. “Now wait jus’ one second!”<|quote|>He had leapt to his feet. In his anger he seemed to fill the whole hut. The Dursleys were cowering against the wall.</|quote|>“Do you mean ter tell me,” he growled at the Dursleys, “that this boy – this boy! – knows noth in’ 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 maths 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<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>“everyone does. an’ like I told yeh, I’m Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts – ye h’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 learnt it all?” “All what?” asked Harry. “ALL WHAT?” Hagrid thundered. “Now wait jus’ one second!”<|quote|>He had leapt to his feet. In his anger he seemed to fill the whole hut. The Dursleys were cowering against the wall.</|quote|>“Do you mean ter tell me,” he growled at the Dursleys, “that this boy – this boy! – knows noth in’ 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 maths 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<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“everyone does. an’ like I told yeh, I’m Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts – ye h’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 learnt it all?” “All what?” asked Harry. “ALL WHAT?” Hagrid thundered. “Now wait jus’ one second!”<|quote|>He had leapt to his feet. In his anger he seemed to fill the whole hut. The Dursleys were cowering against the wall.</|quote|>“Do you mean ter tell me,” he growled at the Dursleys, “that this boy – this boy! – knows noth in’ 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 maths 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<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“everyone does. an’ like I told yeh, I’m Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts – ye h’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 learnt it all?” “All what?” asked Harry. “ALL WHAT?” Hagrid thundered. “Now wait jus’ one second!”<|quote|>He had leapt to his feet. In his anger he seemed to fill the whole hut. The Dursleys were cowering against the wall.</|quote|>“Do you mean ter tell me,” he growled at the Dursleys, “that this boy – this boy! – knows noth in’ 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 maths 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<|speaker|> | <|context|>“everyone does. an’ like I told yeh, I’m Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts – ye h’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 learnt it all?” “All what?” asked Harry. “ALL WHAT?” Hagrid thundered. “Now wait jus’ one second!”<|quote|>He had leapt to his feet. In his anger he seemed to fill the whole hut. The Dursleys were cowering against the wall.</|quote|>“Do you mean ter tell me,” he growled at the Dursleys, “that this boy – this boy! – knows noth in’ 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 maths 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<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>“everyone does. an’ like I told yeh, I’m Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts – ye h’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 learnt it all?” “All what?” asked Harry. “ALL WHAT?” Hagrid thundered. “Now wait jus’ one second!”<|quote|>He had leapt to his feet. In his anger he seemed to fill the whole hut. The Dursleys were cowering against the wall.</|quote|>“Do you mean ter tell me,” he growled at the Dursleys, “that this boy – this boy! – knows noth in’ 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 maths 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<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>said Mr Dursley loudly. The cat didn’t move. It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat behaviour, Mr Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife. Mrs Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs Next Door’s problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learnt a new word (’Shan’t!’). Mr Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living-room in time to catch the last report on the evening news: “And finally, bird-watchers everyw here have reported that the nation’s owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these bi rds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern.” The news reader allowed himself a grin. “Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?” “Well, Ted,” said the weatherman,<|quote|>“I don’t know about that, but it’s not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they’ve had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people ha ve been celebrating Bonfire Night early – it’s not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight.”</|quote|>Mr Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters … Mrs Dursley came into the living-r oom carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He’d have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. “Er – Petunia, dear – yo u haven’t heard from your sister lately, have you?” As he had expected, Mrs Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn’t have a sister. “No,” she said sharply. “Why?” “Funny stuff on the news,” Mr Dursley mumbled. “Owls … shooting stars … and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today …”<|speaker|>Jim<eos> | <bos><|context|>said Mr Dursley loudly. The cat didn’t move. It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat behaviour, Mr Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife. Mrs Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs Next Door’s problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learnt a new word (’Shan’t!’). Mr Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living-room in time to catch the last report on the evening news: “And finally, bird-watchers everyw here have reported that the nation’s owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these bi rds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern.” The news reader allowed himself a grin. “Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?” “Well, Ted,” said the weatherman,<|quote|>“I don’t know about that, but it’s not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they’ve had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people ha ve been celebrating Bonfire Night early – it’s not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight.”</|quote|>Mr Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters … Mrs Dursley came into the living-r oom carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He’d have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. “Er – Petunia, dear – yo u haven’t heard from your sister lately, have you?” As he had expected, Mrs Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn’t have a sister. “No,” she said sharply. “Why?” “Funny stuff on the news,” Mr Dursley mumbled. “Owls … shooting stars … and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today …”<|speaker|> | Jim | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>said Mr Dursley loudly. The cat didn’t move. It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat behaviour, Mr Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife. Mrs Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs Next Door’s problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learnt a new word (’Shan’t!’). Mr Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living-room in time to catch the last report on the evening news: “And finally, bird-watchers everyw here have reported that the nation’s owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these bi rds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern.” The news reader allowed himself a grin. “Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?” “Well, Ted,” said the weatherman,<|quote|>“I don’t know about that, but it’s not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they’ve had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people ha ve been celebrating Bonfire Night early – it’s not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight.”</|quote|>Mr Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters … Mrs Dursley came into the living-r oom carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He’d have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. “Er – Petunia, dear – yo u haven’t heard from your sister lately, have you?” As he had expected, Mrs Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn’t have a sister. “No,” she said sharply. “Why?” “Funny stuff on the news,” Mr Dursley mumbled. “Owls … shooting stars … and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today …”<|speaker|>Jim<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>said Mr Dursley loudly. The cat didn’t move. It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat behaviour, Mr Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife. Mrs Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs Next Door’s problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learnt a new word (’Shan’t!’). Mr Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living-room in time to catch the last report on the evening news: “And finally, bird-watchers everyw here have reported that the nation’s owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these bi rds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern.” The news reader allowed himself a grin. “Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?” “Well, Ted,” said the weatherman,<|quote|>“I don’t know about that, but it’s not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they’ve had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people ha ve been celebrating Bonfire Night early – it’s not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight.”</|quote|>Mr Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters … Mrs Dursley came into the living-r oom carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He’d have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. “Er – Petunia, dear – yo u haven’t heard from your sister lately, have you?” As he had expected, Mrs Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn’t have a sister. “No,” she said sharply. “Why?” “Funny stuff on the news,” Mr Dursley mumbled. “Owls … shooting stars … and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today …”<|speaker|> | <|context|>said Mr Dursley loudly. The cat didn’t move. It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat behaviour, Mr Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife. Mrs Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs Next Door’s problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learnt a new word (’Shan’t!’). Mr Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living-room in time to catch the last report on the evening news: “And finally, bird-watchers everyw here have reported that the nation’s owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these bi rds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern.” The news reader allowed himself a grin. “Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?” “Well, Ted,” said the weatherman,<|quote|>“I don’t know about that, but it’s not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they’ve had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people ha ve been celebrating Bonfire Night early – it’s not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight.”</|quote|>Mr Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters … Mrs Dursley came into the living-r oom carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He’d have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. “Er – Petunia, dear – yo u haven’t heard from your sister lately, have you?” As he had expected, Mrs Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn’t have a sister. “No,” she said sharply. “Why?” “Funny stuff on the news,” Mr Dursley mumbled. “Owls … shooting stars … and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today …”<|speaker|>Jim | <|context|>said Mr Dursley loudly. The cat didn’t move. It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat behaviour, Mr Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife. Mrs Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs Next Door’s problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learnt a new word (’Shan’t!’). Mr Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living-room in time to catch the last report on the evening news: “And finally, bird-watchers everyw here have reported that the nation’s owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these bi rds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern.” The news reader allowed himself a grin. “Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?” “Well, Ted,” said the weatherman,<|quote|>“I don’t know about that, but it’s not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they’ve had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people ha ve been celebrating Bonfire Night early – it’s not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight.”</|quote|>Mr Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters … Mrs Dursley came into the living-r oom carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He’d have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. “Er – Petunia, dear – yo u haven’t heard from your sister lately, have you?” As he had expected, Mrs Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn’t have a sister. “No,” she said sharply. “Why?” “Funny stuff on the news,” Mr Dursley mumbled. “Owls … shooting stars … and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today …”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“Do either of you know what house you’ll be in? I’ve been asking around and I hope I’m in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best, I hear Dumbledore himself was one, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn’t be too bad … Anyway, we’d better go and look for Neville’s toad. You two had better ch ange, you know, I expect we’ll be there soon.” And she left, taking the toadless boy with her. “Whatever house I’m in, I hope she’s not in it,” said Ron. He threw his wand back into his trunk. “Stupid spell – George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud.” “What house are your brothers in?” asked Harry. “Gryffindor,”<|quote|>said Ron. Gloom seem ed to be settling on him again.</|quote|>“Mum and Dad were in it, too. I don’ t know what they’ll say if I’m not. I don’t suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin.” “That’s the house Vol – I mean, You-Know-Who was in?” “Yeah,” said Ron. He flopped back into his seat, looking depressed. “You know, I think the ends of Scabbers’s whiskers are a bit lighter,” said Harry, trying to take Ron’s mind off houses. “So what do your oldest brothers do now they’ve left, anyway?”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>“Do either of you know what house you’ll be in? I’ve been asking around and I hope I’m in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best, I hear Dumbledore himself was one, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn’t be too bad … Anyway, we’d better go and look for Neville’s toad. You two had better ch ange, you know, I expect we’ll be there soon.” And she left, taking the toadless boy with her. “Whatever house I’m in, I hope she’s not in it,” said Ron. He threw his wand back into his trunk. “Stupid spell – George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud.” “What house are your brothers in?” asked Harry. “Gryffindor,”<|quote|>said Ron. Gloom seem ed to be settling on him again.</|quote|>“Mum and Dad were in it, too. I don’ t know what they’ll say if I’m not. I don’t suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin.” “That’s the house Vol – I mean, You-Know-Who was in?” “Yeah,” said Ron. He flopped back into his seat, looking depressed. “You know, I think the ends of Scabbers’s whiskers are a bit lighter,” said Harry, trying to take Ron’s mind off houses. “So what do your oldest brothers do now they’ve left, anyway?”<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Do either of you know what house you’ll be in? I’ve been asking around and I hope I’m in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best, I hear Dumbledore himself was one, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn’t be too bad … Anyway, we’d better go and look for Neville’s toad. You two had better ch ange, you know, I expect we’ll be there soon.” And she left, taking the toadless boy with her. “Whatever house I’m in, I hope she’s not in it,” said Ron. He threw his wand back into his trunk. “Stupid spell – George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud.” “What house are your brothers in?” asked Harry. “Gryffindor,”<|quote|>said Ron. Gloom seem ed to be settling on him again.</|quote|>“Mum and Dad were in it, too. I don’ t know what they’ll say if I’m not. I don’t suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin.” “That’s the house Vol – I mean, You-Know-Who was in?” “Yeah,” said Ron. He flopped back into his seat, looking depressed. “You know, I think the ends of Scabbers’s whiskers are a bit lighter,” said Harry, trying to take Ron’s mind off houses. “So what do your oldest brothers do now they’ve left, anyway?”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Do either of you know what house you’ll be in? I’ve been asking around and I hope I’m in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best, I hear Dumbledore himself was one, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn’t be too bad … Anyway, we’d better go and look for Neville’s toad. You two had better ch ange, you know, I expect we’ll be there soon.” And she left, taking the toadless boy with her. “Whatever house I’m in, I hope she’s not in it,” said Ron. He threw his wand back into his trunk. “Stupid spell – George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud.” “What house are your brothers in?” asked Harry. “Gryffindor,”<|quote|>said Ron. Gloom seem ed to be settling on him again.</|quote|>“Mum and Dad were in it, too. I don’ t know what they’ll say if I’m not. I don’t suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin.” “That’s the house Vol – I mean, You-Know-Who was in?” “Yeah,” said Ron. He flopped back into his seat, looking depressed. “You know, I think the ends of Scabbers’s whiskers are a bit lighter,” said Harry, trying to take Ron’s mind off houses. “So what do your oldest brothers do now they’ve left, anyway?”<|speaker|> | <|context|>“Do either of you know what house you’ll be in? I’ve been asking around and I hope I’m in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best, I hear Dumbledore himself was one, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn’t be too bad … Anyway, we’d better go and look for Neville’s toad. You two had better ch ange, you know, I expect we’ll be there soon.” And she left, taking the toadless boy with her. “Whatever house I’m in, I hope she’s not in it,” said Ron. He threw his wand back into his trunk. “Stupid spell – George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud.” “What house are your brothers in?” asked Harry. “Gryffindor,”<|quote|>said Ron. Gloom seem ed to be settling on him again.</|quote|>“Mum and Dad were in it, too. I don’ t know what they’ll say if I’m not. I don’t suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin.” “That’s the house Vol – I mean, You-Know-Who was in?” “Yeah,” said Ron. He flopped back into his seat, looking depressed. “You know, I think the ends of Scabbers’s whiskers are a bit lighter,” said Harry, trying to take Ron’s mind off houses. “So what do your oldest brothers do now they’ve left, anyway?”<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>“Do either of you know what house you’ll be in? I’ve been asking around and I hope I’m in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best, I hear Dumbledore himself was one, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn’t be too bad … Anyway, we’d better go and look for Neville’s toad. You two had better ch ange, you know, I expect we’ll be there soon.” And she left, taking the toadless boy with her. “Whatever house I’m in, I hope she’s not in it,” said Ron. He threw his wand back into his trunk. “Stupid spell – George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud.” “What house are your brothers in?” asked Harry. “Gryffindor,”<|quote|>said Ron. Gloom seem ed to be settling on him again.</|quote|>“Mum and Dad were in it, too. I don’ t know what they’ll say if I’m not. I don’t suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin.” “That’s the house Vol – I mean, You-Know-Who was in?” “Yeah,” said Ron. He flopped back into his seat, looking depressed. “You know, I think the ends of Scabbers’s whiskers are a bit lighter,” said Harry, trying to take Ron’s mind off houses. “So what do your oldest brothers do now they’ve left, anyway?”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>said Hagrid in relief. “How are yeh?” He walked forward and shook the centaur’s hand. “Good evening to you, Hagrid,” said Ronan. He had a deep, sorrowful voice. “Were you going to shoot me?” “Can’t be too careful, Ronan,” said Hagrid, patting his crossbow. “There’s summat bad loose in this Forest. This is Harry Potter an’ Hermione Granger, by the way. Stud ents up at the school. an’ this is Ronan, you two. He’s a centaur.” “We’d noticed,” said Hermione faintly. “Good evening,” said Ronan. “Students, are you? And do you learn much, up at the school?” “Erm –” “A bit,” said Hermione timidly. “A bit. Well, that’s something.”<|quote|>Ronan sighed. He flung back his head and stared at the sky.</|quote|>“Mars is bright tonight.” “Yeah,” said Hagrid, glancing up too. “Listen, I’m glad we’ve run inter yeh, Ronan, ‘cause there’s a unicorn bin hurt – you seen anything?” Ronan didn’t answer immediately. He stared unblinkingly upwards, then sighed again. “Always the innocent are the first vi ctims,” he said. “So it has been for ages past, so it is now.” “Yeah,” said Hagrid, “but have yeh seen anythin’, Ronan? Anythin’ unusual?” “Mars is bright tonight,” Ronan re peated while Hagrid watched him impatiently. “Unusually bright.” “Yeah, but I was meanin’ anythin’ unusual a bit nearer home,” said Hagrid. “So yeh haven’t noticed anythin’ strange?” Yet again, Ronan took a while to answer. At last, he said,<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>said Hagrid in relief. “How are yeh?” He walked forward and shook the centaur’s hand. “Good evening to you, Hagrid,” said Ronan. He had a deep, sorrowful voice. “Were you going to shoot me?” “Can’t be too careful, Ronan,” said Hagrid, patting his crossbow. “There’s summat bad loose in this Forest. This is Harry Potter an’ Hermione Granger, by the way. Stud ents up at the school. an’ this is Ronan, you two. He’s a centaur.” “We’d noticed,” said Hermione faintly. “Good evening,” said Ronan. “Students, are you? And do you learn much, up at the school?” “Erm –” “A bit,” said Hermione timidly. “A bit. Well, that’s something.”<|quote|>Ronan sighed. He flung back his head and stared at the sky.</|quote|>“Mars is bright tonight.” “Yeah,” said Hagrid, glancing up too. “Listen, I’m glad we’ve run inter yeh, Ronan, ‘cause there’s a unicorn bin hurt – you seen anything?” Ronan didn’t answer immediately. He stared unblinkingly upwards, then sighed again. “Always the innocent are the first vi ctims,” he said. “So it has been for ages past, so it is now.” “Yeah,” said Hagrid, “but have yeh seen anythin’, Ronan? Anythin’ unusual?” “Mars is bright tonight,” Ronan re peated while Hagrid watched him impatiently. “Unusually bright.” “Yeah, but I was meanin’ anythin’ unusual a bit nearer home,” said Hagrid. “So yeh haven’t noticed anythin’ strange?” Yet again, Ronan took a while to answer. At last, he said,<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>said Hagrid in relief. “How are yeh?” He walked forward and shook the centaur’s hand. “Good evening to you, Hagrid,” said Ronan. He had a deep, sorrowful voice. “Were you going to shoot me?” “Can’t be too careful, Ronan,” said Hagrid, patting his crossbow. “There’s summat bad loose in this Forest. This is Harry Potter an’ Hermione Granger, by the way. Stud ents up at the school. an’ this is Ronan, you two. He’s a centaur.” “We’d noticed,” said Hermione faintly. “Good evening,” said Ronan. “Students, are you? And do you learn much, up at the school?” “Erm –” “A bit,” said Hermione timidly. “A bit. Well, that’s something.”<|quote|>Ronan sighed. He flung back his head and stared at the sky.</|quote|>“Mars is bright tonight.” “Yeah,” said Hagrid, glancing up too. “Listen, I’m glad we’ve run inter yeh, Ronan, ‘cause there’s a unicorn bin hurt – you seen anything?” Ronan didn’t answer immediately. He stared unblinkingly upwards, then sighed again. “Always the innocent are the first vi ctims,” he said. “So it has been for ages past, so it is now.” “Yeah,” said Hagrid, “but have yeh seen anythin’, Ronan? Anythin’ unusual?” “Mars is bright tonight,” Ronan re peated while Hagrid watched him impatiently. “Unusually bright.” “Yeah, but I was meanin’ anythin’ unusual a bit nearer home,” said Hagrid. “So yeh haven’t noticed anythin’ strange?” Yet again, Ronan took a while to answer. At last, he said,<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>said Hagrid in relief. “How are yeh?” He walked forward and shook the centaur’s hand. “Good evening to you, Hagrid,” said Ronan. He had a deep, sorrowful voice. “Were you going to shoot me?” “Can’t be too careful, Ronan,” said Hagrid, patting his crossbow. “There’s summat bad loose in this Forest. This is Harry Potter an’ Hermione Granger, by the way. Stud ents up at the school. an’ this is Ronan, you two. He’s a centaur.” “We’d noticed,” said Hermione faintly. “Good evening,” said Ronan. “Students, are you? And do you learn much, up at the school?” “Erm –” “A bit,” said Hermione timidly. “A bit. Well, that’s something.”<|quote|>Ronan sighed. He flung back his head and stared at the sky.</|quote|>“Mars is bright tonight.” “Yeah,” said Hagrid, glancing up too. “Listen, I’m glad we’ve run inter yeh, Ronan, ‘cause there’s a unicorn bin hurt – you seen anything?” Ronan didn’t answer immediately. He stared unblinkingly upwards, then sighed again. “Always the innocent are the first vi ctims,” he said. “So it has been for ages past, so it is now.” “Yeah,” said Hagrid, “but have yeh seen anythin’, Ronan? Anythin’ unusual?” “Mars is bright tonight,” Ronan re peated while Hagrid watched him impatiently. “Unusually bright.” “Yeah, but I was meanin’ anythin’ unusual a bit nearer home,” said Hagrid. “So yeh haven’t noticed anythin’ strange?” Yet again, Ronan took a while to answer. At last, he said,<|speaker|> | <|context|>said Hagrid in relief. “How are yeh?” He walked forward and shook the centaur’s hand. “Good evening to you, Hagrid,” said Ronan. He had a deep, sorrowful voice. “Were you going to shoot me?” “Can’t be too careful, Ronan,” said Hagrid, patting his crossbow. “There’s summat bad loose in this Forest. This is Harry Potter an’ Hermione Granger, by the way. Stud ents up at the school. an’ this is Ronan, you two. He’s a centaur.” “We’d noticed,” said Hermione faintly. “Good evening,” said Ronan. “Students, are you? And do you learn much, up at the school?” “Erm –” “A bit,” said Hermione timidly. “A bit. Well, that’s something.”<|quote|>Ronan sighed. He flung back his head and stared at the sky.</|quote|>“Mars is bright tonight.” “Yeah,” said Hagrid, glancing up too. “Listen, I’m glad we’ve run inter yeh, Ronan, ‘cause there’s a unicorn bin hurt – you seen anything?” Ronan didn’t answer immediately. He stared unblinkingly upwards, then sighed again. “Always the innocent are the first vi ctims,” he said. “So it has been for ages past, so it is now.” “Yeah,” said Hagrid, “but have yeh seen anythin’, Ronan? Anythin’ unusual?” “Mars is bright tonight,” Ronan re peated while Hagrid watched him impatiently. “Unusually bright.” “Yeah, but I was meanin’ anythin’ unusual a bit nearer home,” said Hagrid. “So yeh haven’t noticed anythin’ strange?” Yet again, Ronan took a while to answer. At last, he said,<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>said Hagrid in relief. “How are yeh?” He walked forward and shook the centaur’s hand. “Good evening to you, Hagrid,” said Ronan. He had a deep, sorrowful voice. “Were you going to shoot me?” “Can’t be too careful, Ronan,” said Hagrid, patting his crossbow. “There’s summat bad loose in this Forest. This is Harry Potter an’ Hermione Granger, by the way. Stud ents up at the school. an’ this is Ronan, you two. He’s a centaur.” “We’d noticed,” said Hermione faintly. “Good evening,” said Ronan. “Students, are you? And do you learn much, up at the school?” “Erm –” “A bit,” said Hermione timidly. “A bit. Well, that’s something.”<|quote|>Ronan sighed. He flung back his head and stared at the sky.</|quote|>“Mars is bright tonight.” “Yeah,” said Hagrid, glancing up too. “Listen, I’m glad we’ve run inter yeh, Ronan, ‘cause there’s a unicorn bin hurt – you seen anything?” Ronan didn’t answer immediately. He stared unblinkingly upwards, then sighed again. “Always the innocent are the first vi ctims,” he said. “So it has been for ages past, so it is now.” “Yeah,” said Hagrid, “but have yeh seen anythin’, Ronan? Anythin’ unusual?” “Mars is bright tonight,” Ronan re peated while Hagrid watched him impatiently. “Unusually bright.” “Yeah, but I was meanin’ anythin’ unusual a bit nearer home,” said Hagrid. “So yeh haven’t noticed anythin’ strange?” Yet again, Ronan took a while to answer. At last, he said,<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“Writin’ lines! What good’s that ter anyone? Yeh’ll do summat useful or yeh’ll get out. If yeh think yer father’d rather you were expelled, then get back off ter the castle an’ pack. Go on!” Malfoy didn’t move. He looked at Hagrid furiously but then dropped his gaze. “Right then,” said Hagrid, “now, listen carefully, ‘cause it’s dangerous what we’re gonna do tonight an’ I don’ want no one takin’ risks. Follow me over here a moment.” He led them to the very edge of the Forest. Holding his lamp up high he pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. A light breeze lifted their hair as they looked into the Forest.<|quote|>“Look there,”</|quote|>said Hagrid, “see th at stuff shinin’ on the ground? Silvery stuff? That’s unicorn blood. There’s a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We’re gonna try an’ find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery.” “And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?” said Malfoy unable to keep the fear out of his voice. “There’s nothin’ that lives in the Forest that’ll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang,”<|speaker|>Hagrid<eos> | <bos><|context|>“Writin’ lines! What good’s that ter anyone? Yeh’ll do summat useful or yeh’ll get out. If yeh think yer father’d rather you were expelled, then get back off ter the castle an’ pack. Go on!” Malfoy didn’t move. He looked at Hagrid furiously but then dropped his gaze. “Right then,” said Hagrid, “now, listen carefully, ‘cause it’s dangerous what we’re gonna do tonight an’ I don’ want no one takin’ risks. Follow me over here a moment.” He led them to the very edge of the Forest. Holding his lamp up high he pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. A light breeze lifted their hair as they looked into the Forest.<|quote|>“Look there,”</|quote|>said Hagrid, “see th at stuff shinin’ on the ground? Silvery stuff? That’s unicorn blood. There’s a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We’re gonna try an’ find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery.” “And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?” said Malfoy unable to keep the fear out of his voice. “There’s nothin’ that lives in the Forest that’ll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang,”<|speaker|> | Hagrid | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Writin’ lines! What good’s that ter anyone? Yeh’ll do summat useful or yeh’ll get out. If yeh think yer father’d rather you were expelled, then get back off ter the castle an’ pack. Go on!” Malfoy didn’t move. He looked at Hagrid furiously but then dropped his gaze. “Right then,” said Hagrid, “now, listen carefully, ‘cause it’s dangerous what we’re gonna do tonight an’ I don’ want no one takin’ risks. Follow me over here a moment.” He led them to the very edge of the Forest. Holding his lamp up high he pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. A light breeze lifted their hair as they looked into the Forest.<|quote|>“Look there,”</|quote|>said Hagrid, “see th at stuff shinin’ on the ground? Silvery stuff? That’s unicorn blood. There’s a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We’re gonna try an’ find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery.” “And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?” said Malfoy unable to keep the fear out of his voice. “There’s nothin’ that lives in the Forest that’ll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang,”<|speaker|>Hagrid<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Writin’ lines! What good’s that ter anyone? Yeh’ll do summat useful or yeh’ll get out. If yeh think yer father’d rather you were expelled, then get back off ter the castle an’ pack. Go on!” Malfoy didn’t move. He looked at Hagrid furiously but then dropped his gaze. “Right then,” said Hagrid, “now, listen carefully, ‘cause it’s dangerous what we’re gonna do tonight an’ I don’ want no one takin’ risks. Follow me over here a moment.” He led them to the very edge of the Forest. Holding his lamp up high he pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. A light breeze lifted their hair as they looked into the Forest.<|quote|>“Look there,”</|quote|>said Hagrid, “see th at stuff shinin’ on the ground? Silvery stuff? That’s unicorn blood. There’s a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We’re gonna try an’ find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery.” “And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?” said Malfoy unable to keep the fear out of his voice. “There’s nothin’ that lives in the Forest that’ll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang,”<|speaker|> | <|context|>“Writin’ lines! What good’s that ter anyone? Yeh’ll do summat useful or yeh’ll get out. If yeh think yer father’d rather you were expelled, then get back off ter the castle an’ pack. Go on!” Malfoy didn’t move. He looked at Hagrid furiously but then dropped his gaze. “Right then,” said Hagrid, “now, listen carefully, ‘cause it’s dangerous what we’re gonna do tonight an’ I don’ want no one takin’ risks. Follow me over here a moment.” He led them to the very edge of the Forest. Holding his lamp up high he pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. A light breeze lifted their hair as they looked into the Forest.<|quote|>“Look there,”</|quote|>said Hagrid, “see th at stuff shinin’ on the ground? Silvery stuff? That’s unicorn blood. There’s a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We’re gonna try an’ find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery.” “And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?” said Malfoy unable to keep the fear out of his voice. “There’s nothin’ that lives in the Forest that’ll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang,”<|speaker|>Hagrid | <|context|>“Writin’ lines! What good’s that ter anyone? Yeh’ll do summat useful or yeh’ll get out. If yeh think yer father’d rather you were expelled, then get back off ter the castle an’ pack. Go on!” Malfoy didn’t move. He looked at Hagrid furiously but then dropped his gaze. “Right then,” said Hagrid, “now, listen carefully, ‘cause it’s dangerous what we’re gonna do tonight an’ I don’ want no one takin’ risks. Follow me over here a moment.” He led them to the very edge of the Forest. Holding his lamp up high he pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. A light breeze lifted their hair as they looked into the Forest.<|quote|>“Look there,”</|quote|>said Hagrid, “see th at stuff shinin’ on the ground? Silvery stuff? That’s unicorn blood. There’s a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We’re gonna try an’ find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery.” “And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?” said Malfoy unable to keep the fear out of his voice. “There’s nothin’ that lives in the Forest that’ll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang,”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“Can you think of nobody who has waited many years to return to power, who has clung to life, awaiting their chance?” It was as though an iron fist had clenched suddenly around Harry’s heart. Over the rustling of the trees, he seemed to hear once more what Hagrid had told him on the night they had met: “Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die.” “Do you mean,” Harry croaked, “that was Vol–” “Harry! Harry, are you all right?” Hermione was running towards them down the path, Hagrid puffing along behind her. “I’m fine,” said Harry, hardly knowing what he was saying.<|quote|>“The unicorn’s dead, Hagrid, it’s in that clearing back there.”</|quote|>“This is where I leave you,” Firenz e murmured as Hagrid hurried off to examine the unicorn. “You are safe now.” Harry slid off his back. “Good luck, Harry Potter,” said Firenze. “The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by ce ntaurs. I hope this is one of those times.” He turned and cantered back into the depths of the Forest, leaving Harry shivering behind him. * Ron had fallen asleep in the dark common room, waiting for them to return. He shouted something ab out Quidditch fouls when Harry roughly shook him awake. In a ma tter of seconds, though, he was wide-eyed as Harry began to tell him and Hermione what had happened in the Forest. Harry couldn’t sit down. He paced up and down in front of the fire. He was still shaking.<|speaker|>Harry Potter<eos> | <bos><|context|>“Can you think of nobody who has waited many years to return to power, who has clung to life, awaiting their chance?” It was as though an iron fist had clenched suddenly around Harry’s heart. Over the rustling of the trees, he seemed to hear once more what Hagrid had told him on the night they had met: “Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die.” “Do you mean,” Harry croaked, “that was Vol–” “Harry! Harry, are you all right?” Hermione was running towards them down the path, Hagrid puffing along behind her. “I’m fine,” said Harry, hardly knowing what he was saying.<|quote|>“The unicorn’s dead, Hagrid, it’s in that clearing back there.”</|quote|>“This is where I leave you,” Firenz e murmured as Hagrid hurried off to examine the unicorn. “You are safe now.” Harry slid off his back. “Good luck, Harry Potter,” said Firenze. “The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by ce ntaurs. I hope this is one of those times.” He turned and cantered back into the depths of the Forest, leaving Harry shivering behind him. * Ron had fallen asleep in the dark common room, waiting for them to return. He shouted something ab out Quidditch fouls when Harry roughly shook him awake. In a ma tter of seconds, though, he was wide-eyed as Harry began to tell him and Hermione what had happened in the Forest. Harry couldn’t sit down. He paced up and down in front of the fire. He was still shaking.<|speaker|> | Harry Potter | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Can you think of nobody who has waited many years to return to power, who has clung to life, awaiting their chance?” It was as though an iron fist had clenched suddenly around Harry’s heart. Over the rustling of the trees, he seemed to hear once more what Hagrid had told him on the night they had met: “Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die.” “Do you mean,” Harry croaked, “that was Vol–” “Harry! Harry, are you all right?” Hermione was running towards them down the path, Hagrid puffing along behind her. “I’m fine,” said Harry, hardly knowing what he was saying.<|quote|>“The unicorn’s dead, Hagrid, it’s in that clearing back there.”</|quote|>“This is where I leave you,” Firenz e murmured as Hagrid hurried off to examine the unicorn. “You are safe now.” Harry slid off his back. “Good luck, Harry Potter,” said Firenze. “The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by ce ntaurs. I hope this is one of those times.” He turned and cantered back into the depths of the Forest, leaving Harry shivering behind him. * Ron had fallen asleep in the dark common room, waiting for them to return. He shouted something ab out Quidditch fouls when Harry roughly shook him awake. In a ma tter of seconds, though, he was wide-eyed as Harry began to tell him and Hermione what had happened in the Forest. Harry couldn’t sit down. He paced up and down in front of the fire. He was still shaking.<|speaker|>Harry Potter<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Can you think of nobody who has waited many years to return to power, who has clung to life, awaiting their chance?” It was as though an iron fist had clenched suddenly around Harry’s heart. Over the rustling of the trees, he seemed to hear once more what Hagrid had told him on the night they had met: “Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die.” “Do you mean,” Harry croaked, “that was Vol–” “Harry! Harry, are you all right?” Hermione was running towards them down the path, Hagrid puffing along behind her. “I’m fine,” said Harry, hardly knowing what he was saying.<|quote|>“The unicorn’s dead, Hagrid, it’s in that clearing back there.”</|quote|>“This is where I leave you,” Firenz e murmured as Hagrid hurried off to examine the unicorn. “You are safe now.” Harry slid off his back. “Good luck, Harry Potter,” said Firenze. “The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by ce ntaurs. I hope this is one of those times.” He turned and cantered back into the depths of the Forest, leaving Harry shivering behind him. * Ron had fallen asleep in the dark common room, waiting for them to return. He shouted something ab out Quidditch fouls when Harry roughly shook him awake. In a ma tter of seconds, though, he was wide-eyed as Harry began to tell him and Hermione what had happened in the Forest. Harry couldn’t sit down. He paced up and down in front of the fire. He was still shaking.<|speaker|> | <|context|>“Can you think of nobody who has waited many years to return to power, who has clung to life, awaiting their chance?” It was as though an iron fist had clenched suddenly around Harry’s heart. Over the rustling of the trees, he seemed to hear once more what Hagrid had told him on the night they had met: “Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die.” “Do you mean,” Harry croaked, “that was Vol–” “Harry! Harry, are you all right?” Hermione was running towards them down the path, Hagrid puffing along behind her. “I’m fine,” said Harry, hardly knowing what he was saying.<|quote|>“The unicorn’s dead, Hagrid, it’s in that clearing back there.”</|quote|>“This is where I leave you,” Firenz e murmured as Hagrid hurried off to examine the unicorn. “You are safe now.” Harry slid off his back. “Good luck, Harry Potter,” said Firenze. “The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by ce ntaurs. I hope this is one of those times.” He turned and cantered back into the depths of the Forest, leaving Harry shivering behind him. * Ron had fallen asleep in the dark common room, waiting for them to return. He shouted something ab out Quidditch fouls when Harry roughly shook him awake. In a ma tter of seconds, though, he was wide-eyed as Harry began to tell him and Hermione what had happened in the Forest. Harry couldn’t sit down. He paced up and down in front of the fire. He was still shaking.<|speaker|>Harry Potter | <|context|>“Can you think of nobody who has waited many years to return to power, who has clung to life, awaiting their chance?” It was as though an iron fist had clenched suddenly around Harry’s heart. Over the rustling of the trees, he seemed to hear once more what Hagrid had told him on the night they had met: “Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die.” “Do you mean,” Harry croaked, “that was Vol–” “Harry! Harry, are you all right?” Hermione was running towards them down the path, Hagrid puffing along behind her. “I’m fine,” said Harry, hardly knowing what he was saying.<|quote|>“The unicorn’s dead, Hagrid, it’s in that clearing back there.”</|quote|>“This is where I leave you,” Firenz e murmured as Hagrid hurried off to examine the unicorn. “You are safe now.” Harry slid off his back. “Good luck, Harry Potter,” said Firenze. “The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by ce ntaurs. I hope this is one of those times.” He turned and cantered back into the depths of the Forest, leaving Harry shivering behind him. * Ron had fallen asleep in the dark common room, waiting for them to return. He shouted something ab out Quidditch fouls when Harry roughly shook him awake. In a ma tter of seconds, though, he was wide-eyed as Harry began to tell him and Hermione what had happened in the Forest. Harry couldn’t sit down. He paced up and down in front of the fire. He was still shaking.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“but people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy’ll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway.” “And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?” “Throw it away and punch him on the nose,” Ron suggested. “Excuse me.” They both looked up. It was Hermione Granger. “Can’t a person eat in peace in this place?”<|quote|>said Ron. Hermione ignored him and spoke to Harry.</|quote|>“I couldn’t help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying –” “Bet you could,” Ron muttered. “– and you mustn’t go wandering ar ound the school at night, think of the points you’ll lose Gryffindor if you’re caught, and you’re bound to be. It’s really very selfish of you.” “And it’s really none of your business,” said Harry. “Goodbye,” said Ron. * All the same, it wasn’t what you’d call the perfect end to the day, Harry thought, as he lay awake mu ch later listening to Dean and Seamus falling asleep (Neville wasn’t back from the hospital wing). Ron had spent all evening giving him advice such as “If he tries to curse you, you’d better dodge it, because I can’t remember how to block them”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>“but people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy’ll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway.” “And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?” “Throw it away and punch him on the nose,” Ron suggested. “Excuse me.” They both looked up. It was Hermione Granger. “Can’t a person eat in peace in this place?”<|quote|>said Ron. Hermione ignored him and spoke to Harry.</|quote|>“I couldn’t help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying –” “Bet you could,” Ron muttered. “– and you mustn’t go wandering ar ound the school at night, think of the points you’ll lose Gryffindor if you’re caught, and you’re bound to be. It’s really very selfish of you.” “And it’s really none of your business,” said Harry. “Goodbye,” said Ron. * All the same, it wasn’t what you’d call the perfect end to the day, Harry thought, as he lay awake mu ch later listening to Dean and Seamus falling asleep (Neville wasn’t back from the hospital wing). Ron had spent all evening giving him advice such as “If he tries to curse you, you’d better dodge it, because I can’t remember how to block them”<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“but people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy’ll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway.” “And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?” “Throw it away and punch him on the nose,” Ron suggested. “Excuse me.” They both looked up. It was Hermione Granger. “Can’t a person eat in peace in this place?”<|quote|>said Ron. Hermione ignored him and spoke to Harry.</|quote|>“I couldn’t help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying –” “Bet you could,” Ron muttered. “– and you mustn’t go wandering ar ound the school at night, think of the points you’ll lose Gryffindor if you’re caught, and you’re bound to be. It’s really very selfish of you.” “And it’s really none of your business,” said Harry. “Goodbye,” said Ron. * All the same, it wasn’t what you’d call the perfect end to the day, Harry thought, as he lay awake mu ch later listening to Dean and Seamus falling asleep (Neville wasn’t back from the hospital wing). Ron had spent all evening giving him advice such as “If he tries to curse you, you’d better dodge it, because I can’t remember how to block them”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“but people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy’ll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway.” “And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?” “Throw it away and punch him on the nose,” Ron suggested. “Excuse me.” They both looked up. It was Hermione Granger. “Can’t a person eat in peace in this place?”<|quote|>said Ron. Hermione ignored him and spoke to Harry.</|quote|>“I couldn’t help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying –” “Bet you could,” Ron muttered. “– and you mustn’t go wandering ar ound the school at night, think of the points you’ll lose Gryffindor if you’re caught, and you’re bound to be. It’s really very selfish of you.” “And it’s really none of your business,” said Harry. “Goodbye,” said Ron. * All the same, it wasn’t what you’d call the perfect end to the day, Harry thought, as he lay awake mu ch later listening to Dean and Seamus falling asleep (Neville wasn’t back from the hospital wing). Ron had spent all evening giving him advice such as “If he tries to curse you, you’d better dodge it, because I can’t remember how to block them”<|speaker|> | <|context|>“but people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy’ll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway.” “And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?” “Throw it away and punch him on the nose,” Ron suggested. “Excuse me.” They both looked up. It was Hermione Granger. “Can’t a person eat in peace in this place?”<|quote|>said Ron. Hermione ignored him and spoke to Harry.</|quote|>“I couldn’t help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying –” “Bet you could,” Ron muttered. “– and you mustn’t go wandering ar ound the school at night, think of the points you’ll lose Gryffindor if you’re caught, and you’re bound to be. It’s really very selfish of you.” “And it’s really none of your business,” said Harry. “Goodbye,” said Ron. * All the same, it wasn’t what you’d call the perfect end to the day, Harry thought, as he lay awake mu ch later listening to Dean and Seamus falling asleep (Neville wasn’t back from the hospital wing). Ron had spent all evening giving him advice such as “If he tries to curse you, you’d better dodge it, because I can’t remember how to block them”<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>“but people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy’ll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway.” “And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?” “Throw it away and punch him on the nose,” Ron suggested. “Excuse me.” They both looked up. It was Hermione Granger. “Can’t a person eat in peace in this place?”<|quote|>said Ron. Hermione ignored him and spoke to Harry.</|quote|>“I couldn’t help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying –” “Bet you could,” Ron muttered. “– and you mustn’t go wandering ar ound the school at night, think of the points you’ll lose Gryffindor if you’re caught, and you’re bound to be. It’s really very selfish of you.” “And it’s really none of your business,” said Harry. “Goodbye,” said Ron. * All the same, it wasn’t what you’d call the perfect end to the day, Harry thought, as he lay awake mu ch later listening to Dean and Seamus falling asleep (Neville wasn’t back from the hospital wing). Ron had spent all evening giving him advice such as “If he tries to curse you, you’d better dodge it, because I can’t remember how to block them”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>Percy was in his element. “Follow me! Stick together, first-year s! 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 Hallowe’en joke.” They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. As they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs, Harry suddenly grabbed Ron’s arm. “I’ve just thought – Hermione.”<|quote|>“What about her?”</|quote|>“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 Hu fflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corrido r and hurried off towards the girls’ toilets. They had just turned th e 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.<|speaker|>Ron Weasley<eos> | <bos><|context|>Percy was in his element. “Follow me! Stick together, first-year s! 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 Hallowe’en joke.” They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. As they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs, Harry suddenly grabbed Ron’s arm. “I’ve just thought – Hermione.”<|quote|>“What about her?”</|quote|>“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 Hu fflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corrido r and hurried off towards the girls’ toilets. They had just turned th e 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.<|speaker|> | Ron Weasley | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Percy was in his element. “Follow me! Stick together, first-year s! 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 Hallowe’en joke.” They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. As they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs, Harry suddenly grabbed Ron’s arm. “I’ve just thought – Hermione.”<|quote|>“What about her?”</|quote|>“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 Hu fflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corrido r and hurried off towards the girls’ toilets. They had just turned th e 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.<|speaker|>Ron Weasley<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Percy was in his element. “Follow me! Stick together, first-year s! 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 Hallowe’en joke.” They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. As they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs, Harry suddenly grabbed Ron’s arm. “I’ve just thought – Hermione.”<|quote|>“What about her?”</|quote|>“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 Hu fflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corrido r and hurried off towards the girls’ toilets. They had just turned th e 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.<|speaker|> | <|context|>Percy was in his element. “Follow me! Stick together, first-year s! 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 Hallowe’en joke.” They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. As they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs, Harry suddenly grabbed Ron’s arm. “I’ve just thought – Hermione.”<|quote|>“What about her?”</|quote|>“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 Hu fflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corrido r and hurried off towards the girls’ toilets. They had just turned th e 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.<|speaker|>Ron Weasley | <|context|>Percy was in his element. “Follow me! Stick together, first-year s! 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 Hallowe’en joke.” They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. As they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs, Harry suddenly grabbed Ron’s arm. “I’ve just thought – Hermione.”<|quote|>“What about her?”</|quote|>“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 Hu fflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corrido r and hurried off towards the girls’ toilets. They had just turned th e 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.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>went to Ravenclaw too, but “Brown, Lavender” became the first new Gryffindor and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could s ee Ron’s twin brothers catcalling. “Bulstrode, Millicent” then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Harry’s imagination, after all he’d heard about Slytherin, but he thought they looked an unpleasant lot. He was starting to feel definitely sick now. He remembered being picked for teams during sports lessons at his old school. He had always been last to be chosen, not because he was no good, but because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked him. “Finch-Fletchley, Justin!” “HUFFLEPUFF!”<|quote|>Sometimes, Harry noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide.</|quote|>“Finnigan, Seamus” , the sandy-haired boy next to Harry in th e line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor. “Granger, Hermione!” Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head. “GRYFFINDOR!” shouted the hat. Ron groaned. A horrible thought struck Harry, as horrible thoughts always do when you’re very nervous. What if he wasn’t chosen at all? What if he just sat there with the hat over his eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off his head and said there had obviously been a mistake and he’d better get back on the train? When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>went to Ravenclaw too, but “Brown, Lavender” became the first new Gryffindor and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could s ee Ron’s twin brothers catcalling. “Bulstrode, Millicent” then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Harry’s imagination, after all he’d heard about Slytherin, but he thought they looked an unpleasant lot. He was starting to feel definitely sick now. He remembered being picked for teams during sports lessons at his old school. He had always been last to be chosen, not because he was no good, but because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked him. “Finch-Fletchley, Justin!” “HUFFLEPUFF!”<|quote|>Sometimes, Harry noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide.</|quote|>“Finnigan, Seamus” , the sandy-haired boy next to Harry in th e line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor. “Granger, Hermione!” Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head. “GRYFFINDOR!” shouted the hat. Ron groaned. A horrible thought struck Harry, as horrible thoughts always do when you’re very nervous. What if he wasn’t chosen at all? What if he just sat there with the hat over his eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off his head and said there had obviously been a mistake and he’d better get back on the train? When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>went to Ravenclaw too, but “Brown, Lavender” became the first new Gryffindor and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could s ee Ron’s twin brothers catcalling. “Bulstrode, Millicent” then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Harry’s imagination, after all he’d heard about Slytherin, but he thought they looked an unpleasant lot. He was starting to feel definitely sick now. He remembered being picked for teams during sports lessons at his old school. He had always been last to be chosen, not because he was no good, but because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked him. “Finch-Fletchley, Justin!” “HUFFLEPUFF!”<|quote|>Sometimes, Harry noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide.</|quote|>“Finnigan, Seamus” , the sandy-haired boy next to Harry in th e line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor. “Granger, Hermione!” Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head. “GRYFFINDOR!” shouted the hat. Ron groaned. A horrible thought struck Harry, as horrible thoughts always do when you’re very nervous. What if he wasn’t chosen at all? What if he just sat there with the hat over his eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off his head and said there had obviously been a mistake and he’d better get back on the train? When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>went to Ravenclaw too, but “Brown, Lavender” became the first new Gryffindor and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could s ee Ron’s twin brothers catcalling. “Bulstrode, Millicent” then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Harry’s imagination, after all he’d heard about Slytherin, but he thought they looked an unpleasant lot. He was starting to feel definitely sick now. He remembered being picked for teams during sports lessons at his old school. He had always been last to be chosen, not because he was no good, but because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked him. “Finch-Fletchley, Justin!” “HUFFLEPUFF!”<|quote|>Sometimes, Harry noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide.</|quote|>“Finnigan, Seamus” , the sandy-haired boy next to Harry in th e line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor. “Granger, Hermione!” Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head. “GRYFFINDOR!” shouted the hat. Ron groaned. A horrible thought struck Harry, as horrible thoughts always do when you’re very nervous. What if he wasn’t chosen at all? What if he just sat there with the hat over his eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off his head and said there had obviously been a mistake and he’d better get back on the train? When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted<|speaker|> | <|context|>went to Ravenclaw too, but “Brown, Lavender” became the first new Gryffindor and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could s ee Ron’s twin brothers catcalling. “Bulstrode, Millicent” then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Harry’s imagination, after all he’d heard about Slytherin, but he thought they looked an unpleasant lot. He was starting to feel definitely sick now. He remembered being picked for teams during sports lessons at his old school. He had always been last to be chosen, not because he was no good, but because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked him. “Finch-Fletchley, Justin!” “HUFFLEPUFF!”<|quote|>Sometimes, Harry noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide.</|quote|>“Finnigan, Seamus” , the sandy-haired boy next to Harry in th e line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor. “Granger, Hermione!” Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head. “GRYFFINDOR!” shouted the hat. Ron groaned. A horrible thought struck Harry, as horrible thoughts always do when you’re very nervous. What if he wasn’t chosen at all? What if he just sat there with the hat over his eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off his head and said there had obviously been a mistake and he’d better get back on the train? When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>went to Ravenclaw too, but “Brown, Lavender” became the first new Gryffindor and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could s ee Ron’s twin brothers catcalling. “Bulstrode, Millicent” then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Harry’s imagination, after all he’d heard about Slytherin, but he thought they looked an unpleasant lot. He was starting to feel definitely sick now. He remembered being picked for teams during sports lessons at his old school. He had always been last to be chosen, not because he was no good, but because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked him. “Finch-Fletchley, Justin!” “HUFFLEPUFF!”<|quote|>Sometimes, Harry noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide.</|quote|>“Finnigan, Seamus” , the sandy-haired boy next to Harry in th e line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor. “Granger, Hermione!” Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head. “GRYFFINDOR!” shouted the hat. Ron groaned. A horrible thought struck Harry, as horrible thoughts always do when you’re very nervous. What if he wasn’t chosen at all? What if he just sat there with the hat over his eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off his head and said there had obviously been a mistake and he’d better get back on the train? When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>Malfoy let out a terrible scream and bolted – so did Fang. The hooded figure raised its head and looked right at Harry – unicorn blood was dribbling down its front. It got to its feet and came swiftly towards him – he couldn’t move for fear. Then a pain pierced his head like he’d never felt before, it was as though his scar was on fire – half-blinded, he staggered backwards. He heard hooves behind him, galloping , and something jumped clean over him, charging at the figure. The pain in Harry’s head was so bad he fell to his knees. It took a minute or two to pass. When he looked up, the figure had gone. A centaur was standing over him, not Ronan or Bane; this one looked younger; he had white-blond hair and a palomino body. “Are you all right?” said the centaur, pulling Harry to his feet. “Yes – thank you – what was that?” The centaur didn’t answer. He had astonishingly blue eyes, like pale sapphires. He looked carefully at Harry, his eyes lingering on the scar which stood out, livid, on Harry’s forehead. “You are the Potter boy,” he said. “You had better get back to Hagrid. The Forest is not safe at this time – especially for you. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way.<|quote|>“My name is Firenze,”</|quote|>he added, as he lowered himself on to his front legs so that Harry could clamber on to his back. There was suddenly a sound of more galloping from the other side of the clearing. Ronan and Bane came bursting through the trees, their flanks heaving and sweaty. “Firenze!” Bane thundered. “What are you doing? You have a human on your back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?” “Do you realise who this is?” said Firenze. “This is the Potter boy. The quicker he leaves this Forest, the better.” “What have you been telling him?” growled Bane. “Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?”<|speaker|>Firenze<eos> | <bos><|context|>Malfoy let out a terrible scream and bolted – so did Fang. The hooded figure raised its head and looked right at Harry – unicorn blood was dribbling down its front. It got to its feet and came swiftly towards him – he couldn’t move for fear. Then a pain pierced his head like he’d never felt before, it was as though his scar was on fire – half-blinded, he staggered backwards. He heard hooves behind him, galloping , and something jumped clean over him, charging at the figure. The pain in Harry’s head was so bad he fell to his knees. It took a minute or two to pass. When he looked up, the figure had gone. A centaur was standing over him, not Ronan or Bane; this one looked younger; he had white-blond hair and a palomino body. “Are you all right?” said the centaur, pulling Harry to his feet. “Yes – thank you – what was that?” The centaur didn’t answer. He had astonishingly blue eyes, like pale sapphires. He looked carefully at Harry, his eyes lingering on the scar which stood out, livid, on Harry’s forehead. “You are the Potter boy,” he said. “You had better get back to Hagrid. The Forest is not safe at this time – especially for you. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way.<|quote|>“My name is Firenze,”</|quote|>he added, as he lowered himself on to his front legs so that Harry could clamber on to his back. There was suddenly a sound of more galloping from the other side of the clearing. Ronan and Bane came bursting through the trees, their flanks heaving and sweaty. “Firenze!” Bane thundered. “What are you doing? You have a human on your back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?” “Do you realise who this is?” said Firenze. “This is the Potter boy. The quicker he leaves this Forest, the better.” “What have you been telling him?” growled Bane. “Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?”<|speaker|> | Firenze | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Malfoy let out a terrible scream and bolted – so did Fang. The hooded figure raised its head and looked right at Harry – unicorn blood was dribbling down its front. It got to its feet and came swiftly towards him – he couldn’t move for fear. Then a pain pierced his head like he’d never felt before, it was as though his scar was on fire – half-blinded, he staggered backwards. He heard hooves behind him, galloping , and something jumped clean over him, charging at the figure. The pain in Harry’s head was so bad he fell to his knees. It took a minute or two to pass. When he looked up, the figure had gone. A centaur was standing over him, not Ronan or Bane; this one looked younger; he had white-blond hair and a palomino body. “Are you all right?” said the centaur, pulling Harry to his feet. “Yes – thank you – what was that?” The centaur didn’t answer. He had astonishingly blue eyes, like pale sapphires. He looked carefully at Harry, his eyes lingering on the scar which stood out, livid, on Harry’s forehead. “You are the Potter boy,” he said. “You had better get back to Hagrid. The Forest is not safe at this time – especially for you. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way.<|quote|>“My name is Firenze,”</|quote|>he added, as he lowered himself on to his front legs so that Harry could clamber on to his back. There was suddenly a sound of more galloping from the other side of the clearing. Ronan and Bane came bursting through the trees, their flanks heaving and sweaty. “Firenze!” Bane thundered. “What are you doing? You have a human on your back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?” “Do you realise who this is?” said Firenze. “This is the Potter boy. The quicker he leaves this Forest, the better.” “What have you been telling him?” growled Bane. “Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?”<|speaker|>Firenze<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Malfoy let out a terrible scream and bolted – so did Fang. The hooded figure raised its head and looked right at Harry – unicorn blood was dribbling down its front. It got to its feet and came swiftly towards him – he couldn’t move for fear. Then a pain pierced his head like he’d never felt before, it was as though his scar was on fire – half-blinded, he staggered backwards. He heard hooves behind him, galloping , and something jumped clean over him, charging at the figure. The pain in Harry’s head was so bad he fell to his knees. It took a minute or two to pass. When he looked up, the figure had gone. A centaur was standing over him, not Ronan or Bane; this one looked younger; he had white-blond hair and a palomino body. “Are you all right?” said the centaur, pulling Harry to his feet. “Yes – thank you – what was that?” The centaur didn’t answer. He had astonishingly blue eyes, like pale sapphires. He looked carefully at Harry, his eyes lingering on the scar which stood out, livid, on Harry’s forehead. “You are the Potter boy,” he said. “You had better get back to Hagrid. The Forest is not safe at this time – especially for you. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way.<|quote|>“My name is Firenze,”</|quote|>he added, as he lowered himself on to his front legs so that Harry could clamber on to his back. There was suddenly a sound of more galloping from the other side of the clearing. Ronan and Bane came bursting through the trees, their flanks heaving and sweaty. “Firenze!” Bane thundered. “What are you doing? You have a human on your back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?” “Do you realise who this is?” said Firenze. “This is the Potter boy. The quicker he leaves this Forest, the better.” “What have you been telling him?” growled Bane. “Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?”<|speaker|> | <|context|>Malfoy let out a terrible scream and bolted – so did Fang. The hooded figure raised its head and looked right at Harry – unicorn blood was dribbling down its front. It got to its feet and came swiftly towards him – he couldn’t move for fear. Then a pain pierced his head like he’d never felt before, it was as though his scar was on fire – half-blinded, he staggered backwards. He heard hooves behind him, galloping , and something jumped clean over him, charging at the figure. The pain in Harry’s head was so bad he fell to his knees. It took a minute or two to pass. When he looked up, the figure had gone. A centaur was standing over him, not Ronan or Bane; this one looked younger; he had white-blond hair and a palomino body. “Are you all right?” said the centaur, pulling Harry to his feet. “Yes – thank you – what was that?” The centaur didn’t answer. He had astonishingly blue eyes, like pale sapphires. He looked carefully at Harry, his eyes lingering on the scar which stood out, livid, on Harry’s forehead. “You are the Potter boy,” he said. “You had better get back to Hagrid. The Forest is not safe at this time – especially for you. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way.<|quote|>“My name is Firenze,”</|quote|>he added, as he lowered himself on to his front legs so that Harry could clamber on to his back. There was suddenly a sound of more galloping from the other side of the clearing. Ronan and Bane came bursting through the trees, their flanks heaving and sweaty. “Firenze!” Bane thundered. “What are you doing? You have a human on your back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?” “Do you realise who this is?” said Firenze. “This is the Potter boy. The quicker he leaves this Forest, the better.” “What have you been telling him?” growled Bane. “Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?”<|speaker|>Firenze | <|context|>Malfoy let out a terrible scream and bolted – so did Fang. The hooded figure raised its head and looked right at Harry – unicorn blood was dribbling down its front. It got to its feet and came swiftly towards him – he couldn’t move for fear. Then a pain pierced his head like he’d never felt before, it was as though his scar was on fire – half-blinded, he staggered backwards. He heard hooves behind him, galloping , and something jumped clean over him, charging at the figure. The pain in Harry’s head was so bad he fell to his knees. It took a minute or two to pass. When he looked up, the figure had gone. A centaur was standing over him, not Ronan or Bane; this one looked younger; he had white-blond hair and a palomino body. “Are you all right?” said the centaur, pulling Harry to his feet. “Yes – thank you – what was that?” The centaur didn’t answer. He had astonishingly blue eyes, like pale sapphires. He looked carefully at Harry, his eyes lingering on the scar which stood out, livid, on Harry’s forehead. “You are the Potter boy,” he said. “You had better get back to Hagrid. The Forest is not safe at this time – especially for you. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way.<|quote|>“My name is Firenze,”</|quote|>he added, as he lowered himself on to his front legs so that Harry could clamber on to his back. There was suddenly a sound of more galloping from the other side of the clearing. Ronan and Bane came bursting through the trees, their flanks heaving and sweaty. “Firenze!” Bane thundered. “What are you doing? You have a human on your back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?” “Do you realise who this is?” said Firenze. “This is the Potter boy. The quicker he leaves this Forest, the better.” “What have you been telling him?” growled Bane. “Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>Harry’s mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, po rk chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup and, for some strange reason, mint humbugs. The Dursleys had never exactly starved Harry, but he’d never been allowed to eat as much as he liked. Dudley had always taken anything that Harry really wanted, even if it made him sick. Harry piled his plate with a bit of everything except the humbugs and began to eat. It was all delicious.<|quote|>“That does look good,”</|quote|>said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak. “Can’t you –?” “I haven’t eaten for nearly four hundred years,” said the ghost. “I don’t need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don’t think I’ve introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower.” “I know who you are!” said Ron suddenly. “My brothers told me about you – you’re Nearly Headless Nick!” “I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy –”<|speaker|>Nearly Headless Nick<eos> | <bos><|context|>Harry’s mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, po rk chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup and, for some strange reason, mint humbugs. The Dursleys had never exactly starved Harry, but he’d never been allowed to eat as much as he liked. Dudley had always taken anything that Harry really wanted, even if it made him sick. Harry piled his plate with a bit of everything except the humbugs and began to eat. It was all delicious.<|quote|>“That does look good,”</|quote|>said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak. “Can’t you –?” “I haven’t eaten for nearly four hundred years,” said the ghost. “I don’t need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don’t think I’ve introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower.” “I know who you are!” said Ron suddenly. “My brothers told me about you – you’re Nearly Headless Nick!” “I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy –”<|speaker|> | Nearly Headless Nick | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Harry’s mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, po rk chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup and, for some strange reason, mint humbugs. The Dursleys had never exactly starved Harry, but he’d never been allowed to eat as much as he liked. Dudley had always taken anything that Harry really wanted, even if it made him sick. Harry piled his plate with a bit of everything except the humbugs and began to eat. It was all delicious.<|quote|>“That does look good,”</|quote|>said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak. “Can’t you –?” “I haven’t eaten for nearly four hundred years,” said the ghost. “I don’t need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don’t think I’ve introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower.” “I know who you are!” said Ron suddenly. “My brothers told me about you – you’re Nearly Headless Nick!” “I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy –”<|speaker|>Nearly Headless Nick<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Harry’s mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, po rk chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup and, for some strange reason, mint humbugs. The Dursleys had never exactly starved Harry, but he’d never been allowed to eat as much as he liked. Dudley had always taken anything that Harry really wanted, even if it made him sick. Harry piled his plate with a bit of everything except the humbugs and began to eat. It was all delicious.<|quote|>“That does look good,”</|quote|>said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak. “Can’t you –?” “I haven’t eaten for nearly four hundred years,” said the ghost. “I don’t need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don’t think I’ve introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower.” “I know who you are!” said Ron suddenly. “My brothers told me about you – you’re Nearly Headless Nick!” “I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy –”<|speaker|> | <|context|>Harry’s mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, po rk chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup and, for some strange reason, mint humbugs. The Dursleys had never exactly starved Harry, but he’d never been allowed to eat as much as he liked. Dudley had always taken anything that Harry really wanted, even if it made him sick. Harry piled his plate with a bit of everything except the humbugs and began to eat. It was all delicious.<|quote|>“That does look good,”</|quote|>said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak. “Can’t you –?” “I haven’t eaten for nearly four hundred years,” said the ghost. “I don’t need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don’t think I’ve introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower.” “I know who you are!” said Ron suddenly. “My brothers told me about you – you’re Nearly Headless Nick!” “I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy –”<|speaker|>Nearly Headless Nick | <|context|>Harry’s mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, po rk chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, chips, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup and, for some strange reason, mint humbugs. The Dursleys had never exactly starved Harry, but he’d never been allowed to eat as much as he liked. Dudley had always taken anything that Harry really wanted, even if it made him sick. Harry piled his plate with a bit of everything except the humbugs and began to eat. It was all delicious.<|quote|>“That does look good,”</|quote|>said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Harry cut up his steak. “Can’t you –?” “I haven’t eaten for nearly four hundred years,” said the ghost. “I don’t need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don’t think I’ve introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower.” “I know who you are!” said Ron suddenly. “My brothers told me about you – you’re Nearly Headless Nick!” “I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy –”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?” “One speed only,” said Griphook. They were going even deeper now and gathering speed. The air became colder and colder as they hurtled round tight corners. They went rattling over an underground ravine and Harry leant over the side to try and see what was down at the dark bottom but Hagrid groaned and pulled him back by the scruff of his neck. Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole.<|quote|>“Stand back,”</|quote|>said Griphook im portantly. He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melted away. “If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they’d be sucked through the door and trapped in there,” said Griphook. “How often do you check to see if anyone’s inside?” Harry asked. “About once every ten years,” said Griphook, with a rather nasty grin. Something really extraordinary had to be inside this top-security vault, Harry was sure, and he leant forward eagerly, expecting to see fabulous jewels at the very least – but at first he thought it was empty. Then he noticed a grubby little package wrapped up in brown paper lying on the floor. Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat. Harry longed to know what it was, but knew better than to ask.<|speaker|>Griphook<eos> | <bos><|context|>“Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?” “One speed only,” said Griphook. They were going even deeper now and gathering speed. The air became colder and colder as they hurtled round tight corners. They went rattling over an underground ravine and Harry leant over the side to try and see what was down at the dark bottom but Hagrid groaned and pulled him back by the scruff of his neck. Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole.<|quote|>“Stand back,”</|quote|>said Griphook im portantly. He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melted away. “If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they’d be sucked through the door and trapped in there,” said Griphook. “How often do you check to see if anyone’s inside?” Harry asked. “About once every ten years,” said Griphook, with a rather nasty grin. Something really extraordinary had to be inside this top-security vault, Harry was sure, and he leant forward eagerly, expecting to see fabulous jewels at the very least – but at first he thought it was empty. Then he noticed a grubby little package wrapped up in brown paper lying on the floor. Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat. Harry longed to know what it was, but knew better than to ask.<|speaker|> | Griphook | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?” “One speed only,” said Griphook. They were going even deeper now and gathering speed. The air became colder and colder as they hurtled round tight corners. They went rattling over an underground ravine and Harry leant over the side to try and see what was down at the dark bottom but Hagrid groaned and pulled him back by the scruff of his neck. Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole.<|quote|>“Stand back,”</|quote|>said Griphook im portantly. He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melted away. “If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they’d be sucked through the door and trapped in there,” said Griphook. “How often do you check to see if anyone’s inside?” Harry asked. “About once every ten years,” said Griphook, with a rather nasty grin. Something really extraordinary had to be inside this top-security vault, Harry was sure, and he leant forward eagerly, expecting to see fabulous jewels at the very least – but at first he thought it was empty. Then he noticed a grubby little package wrapped up in brown paper lying on the floor. Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat. Harry longed to know what it was, but knew better than to ask.<|speaker|>Griphook<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?” “One speed only,” said Griphook. They were going even deeper now and gathering speed. The air became colder and colder as they hurtled round tight corners. They went rattling over an underground ravine and Harry leant over the side to try and see what was down at the dark bottom but Hagrid groaned and pulled him back by the scruff of his neck. Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole.<|quote|>“Stand back,”</|quote|>said Griphook im portantly. He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melted away. “If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they’d be sucked through the door and trapped in there,” said Griphook. “How often do you check to see if anyone’s inside?” Harry asked. “About once every ten years,” said Griphook, with a rather nasty grin. Something really extraordinary had to be inside this top-security vault, Harry was sure, and he leant forward eagerly, expecting to see fabulous jewels at the very least – but at first he thought it was empty. Then he noticed a grubby little package wrapped up in brown paper lying on the floor. Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat. Harry longed to know what it was, but knew better than to ask.<|speaker|> | <|context|>“Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?” “One speed only,” said Griphook. They were going even deeper now and gathering speed. The air became colder and colder as they hurtled round tight corners. They went rattling over an underground ravine and Harry leant over the side to try and see what was down at the dark bottom but Hagrid groaned and pulled him back by the scruff of his neck. Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole.<|quote|>“Stand back,”</|quote|>said Griphook im portantly. He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melted away. “If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they’d be sucked through the door and trapped in there,” said Griphook. “How often do you check to see if anyone’s inside?” Harry asked. “About once every ten years,” said Griphook, with a rather nasty grin. Something really extraordinary had to be inside this top-security vault, Harry was sure, and he leant forward eagerly, expecting to see fabulous jewels at the very least – but at first he thought it was empty. Then he noticed a grubby little package wrapped up in brown paper lying on the floor. Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat. Harry longed to know what it was, but knew better than to ask.<|speaker|>Griphook | <|context|>“Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?” “One speed only,” said Griphook. They were going even deeper now and gathering speed. The air became colder and colder as they hurtled round tight corners. They went rattling over an underground ravine and Harry leant over the side to try and see what was down at the dark bottom but Hagrid groaned and pulled him back by the scruff of his neck. Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole.<|quote|>“Stand back,”</|quote|>said Griphook im portantly. He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melted away. “If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they’d be sucked through the door and trapped in there,” said Griphook. “How often do you check to see if anyone’s inside?” Harry asked. “About once every ten years,” said Griphook, with a rather nasty grin. Something really extraordinary had to be inside this top-security vault, Harry was sure, and he leant forward eagerly, expecting to see fabulous jewels at the very least – but at first he thought it was empty. Then he noticed a grubby little package wrapped up in brown paper lying on the floor. Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat. Harry longed to know what it was, but knew better than to ask.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“This isn’t magic – it’s logic – a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven’t got an ounce of logic, they’d be stuck in here for ever.” “But so will we, won’t we?” “Of course not,” said Hermione. “Everything we need is here on this paper. Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire and one will get us back through the purple.” “But how do we know which to drink?” “Give me a minute.” Hermione read the paper several times. Then she walked up and down the line of bottles, muttering to herself and pointing at them. At last, she clapped her hands. “Got it,” she said.<|quote|>“The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire – towards the Stone.”</|quote|>Harry looked at the tiny bottle. “There’s only enough there for one of us,” he said. “That’s hardly one swallow.” They looked at each other. “Which one will get you back through the purple flames?” Hermione pointed at a rounded bottle at the right end of the line. “You drink that,” said Harry. “No, listen – get back and get Ron – grab brooms from the flying-key room, they’ll get you out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy – go stra ight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, we need him. I migh t be able to hold Snape off for a while, but I’m no match for him really.”<|speaker|>Hermione Granger<eos> | <bos><|context|>“This isn’t magic – it’s logic – a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven’t got an ounce of logic, they’d be stuck in here for ever.” “But so will we, won’t we?” “Of course not,” said Hermione. “Everything we need is here on this paper. Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire and one will get us back through the purple.” “But how do we know which to drink?” “Give me a minute.” Hermione read the paper several times. Then she walked up and down the line of bottles, muttering to herself and pointing at them. At last, she clapped her hands. “Got it,” she said.<|quote|>“The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire – towards the Stone.”</|quote|>Harry looked at the tiny bottle. “There’s only enough there for one of us,” he said. “That’s hardly one swallow.” They looked at each other. “Which one will get you back through the purple flames?” Hermione pointed at a rounded bottle at the right end of the line. “You drink that,” said Harry. “No, listen – get back and get Ron – grab brooms from the flying-key room, they’ll get you out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy – go stra ight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, we need him. I migh t be able to hold Snape off for a while, but I’m no match for him really.”<|speaker|> | Hermione Granger | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“This isn’t magic – it’s logic – a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven’t got an ounce of logic, they’d be stuck in here for ever.” “But so will we, won’t we?” “Of course not,” said Hermione. “Everything we need is here on this paper. Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire and one will get us back through the purple.” “But how do we know which to drink?” “Give me a minute.” Hermione read the paper several times. Then she walked up and down the line of bottles, muttering to herself and pointing at them. At last, she clapped her hands. “Got it,” she said.<|quote|>“The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire – towards the Stone.”</|quote|>Harry looked at the tiny bottle. “There’s only enough there for one of us,” he said. “That’s hardly one swallow.” They looked at each other. “Which one will get you back through the purple flames?” Hermione pointed at a rounded bottle at the right end of the line. “You drink that,” said Harry. “No, listen – get back and get Ron – grab brooms from the flying-key room, they’ll get you out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy – go stra ight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, we need him. I migh t be able to hold Snape off for a while, but I’m no match for him really.”<|speaker|>Hermione Granger<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“This isn’t magic – it’s logic – a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven’t got an ounce of logic, they’d be stuck in here for ever.” “But so will we, won’t we?” “Of course not,” said Hermione. “Everything we need is here on this paper. Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire and one will get us back through the purple.” “But how do we know which to drink?” “Give me a minute.” Hermione read the paper several times. Then she walked up and down the line of bottles, muttering to herself and pointing at them. At last, she clapped her hands. “Got it,” she said.<|quote|>“The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire – towards the Stone.”</|quote|>Harry looked at the tiny bottle. “There’s only enough there for one of us,” he said. “That’s hardly one swallow.” They looked at each other. “Which one will get you back through the purple flames?” Hermione pointed at a rounded bottle at the right end of the line. “You drink that,” said Harry. “No, listen – get back and get Ron – grab brooms from the flying-key room, they’ll get you out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy – go stra ight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, we need him. I migh t be able to hold Snape off for a while, but I’m no match for him really.”<|speaker|> | <|context|>“This isn’t magic – it’s logic – a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven’t got an ounce of logic, they’d be stuck in here for ever.” “But so will we, won’t we?” “Of course not,” said Hermione. “Everything we need is here on this paper. Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire and one will get us back through the purple.” “But how do we know which to drink?” “Give me a minute.” Hermione read the paper several times. Then she walked up and down the line of bottles, muttering to herself and pointing at them. At last, she clapped her hands. “Got it,” she said.<|quote|>“The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire – towards the Stone.”</|quote|>Harry looked at the tiny bottle. “There’s only enough there for one of us,” he said. “That’s hardly one swallow.” They looked at each other. “Which one will get you back through the purple flames?” Hermione pointed at a rounded bottle at the right end of the line. “You drink that,” said Harry. “No, listen – get back and get Ron – grab brooms from the flying-key room, they’ll get you out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy – go stra ight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, we need him. I migh t be able to hold Snape off for a while, but I’m no match for him really.”<|speaker|>Hermione Granger | <|context|>“This isn’t magic – it’s logic – a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven’t got an ounce of logic, they’d be stuck in here for ever.” “But so will we, won’t we?” “Of course not,” said Hermione. “Everything we need is here on this paper. Seven bottles: three are poison; two are wine; one will get us safely through the black fire and one will get us back through the purple.” “But how do we know which to drink?” “Give me a minute.” Hermione read the paper several times. Then she walked up and down the line of bottles, muttering to herself and pointing at them. At last, she clapped her hands. “Got it,” she said.<|quote|>“The smallest bottle will get us through the black fire – towards the Stone.”</|quote|>Harry looked at the tiny bottle. “There’s only enough there for one of us,” he said. “That’s hardly one swallow.” They looked at each other. “Which one will get you back through the purple flames?” Hermione pointed at a rounded bottle at the right end of the line. “You drink that,” said Harry. “No, listen – get back and get Ron – grab brooms from the flying-key room, they’ll get you out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy – go stra ight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, we need him. I migh t be able to hold Snape off for a while, but I’m no match for him really.”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>Harry turned over his card and read: Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the 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 an d 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,”<|quote|>said Harry.</|quote|>“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 ba ck 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 Hengis t 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 Bolt’s Every-Flavour Beans. “You want to be careful with those,”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>Harry turned over his card and read: Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the 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 an d 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,”<|quote|>said Harry.</|quote|>“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 ba ck 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 Hengis t 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 Bolt’s Every-Flavour Beans. “You want to be careful with those,”<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Harry turned over his card and read: Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the 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 an d 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,”<|quote|>said Harry.</|quote|>“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 ba ck 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 Hengis t 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 Bolt’s Every-Flavour Beans. “You want to be careful with those,”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Harry turned over his card and read: Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the 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 an d 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,”<|quote|>said Harry.</|quote|>“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 ba ck 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 Hengis t 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 Bolt’s Every-Flavour Beans. “You want to be careful with those,”<|speaker|> | <|context|>Harry turned over his card and read: Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the 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 an d 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,”<|quote|>said Harry.</|quote|>“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 ba ck 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 Hengis t 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 Bolt’s Every-Flavour Beans. “You want to be careful with those,”<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>Harry turned over his card and read: Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Professor Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the 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 an d 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,”<|quote|>said Harry.</|quote|>“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 ba ck 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 Hengis t 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 Bolt’s Every-Flavour Beans. “You want to be careful with those,”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. 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 Hu fflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corrido r and hurried off towards the girls’ toilets. They had just turned th e corner when they heard quick footsteps behind them. “Percy!”<|quote|>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.</|quote|>“What’s he doing?” Harry whispered. “Why isn’t he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?” “Search me.” Quietly as possible, they crept al ong 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 s them. They shrank into the shadows and watched as it emerged into a patch of moonlight. It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite grey, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It ha d short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell comi ng 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 waggled its long ears, making up its tiny mi nd, then slouched slowly into the room.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. 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 Hu fflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corrido r and hurried off towards the girls’ toilets. They had just turned th e corner when they heard quick footsteps behind them. “Percy!”<|quote|>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.</|quote|>“What’s he doing?” Harry whispered. “Why isn’t he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?” “Search me.” Quietly as possible, they crept al ong 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 s them. They shrank into the shadows and watched as it emerged into a patch of moonlight. It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite grey, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It ha d short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell comi ng 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 waggled its long ears, making up its tiny mi nd, then slouched slowly into the room.<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. 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 Hu fflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corrido r and hurried off towards the girls’ toilets. They had just turned th e corner when they heard quick footsteps behind them. “Percy!”<|quote|>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.</|quote|>“What’s he doing?” Harry whispered. “Why isn’t he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?” “Search me.” Quietly as possible, they crept al ong 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 s them. They shrank into the shadows and watched as it emerged into a patch of moonlight. It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite grey, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It ha d short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell comi ng 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 waggled its long ears, making up its tiny mi nd, then slouched slowly into the room.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. 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 Hu fflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corrido r and hurried off towards the girls’ toilets. They had just turned th e corner when they heard quick footsteps behind them. “Percy!”<|quote|>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.</|quote|>“What’s he doing?” Harry whispered. “Why isn’t he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?” “Search me.” Quietly as possible, they crept al ong 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 s them. They shrank into the shadows and watched as it emerged into a patch of moonlight. It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite grey, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It ha d short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell comi ng 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 waggled its long ears, making up its tiny mi nd, then slouched slowly into the room.<|speaker|> | <|context|>They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. 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 Hu fflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corrido r and hurried off towards the girls’ toilets. They had just turned th e corner when they heard quick footsteps behind them. “Percy!”<|quote|>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.</|quote|>“What’s he doing?” Harry whispered. “Why isn’t he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?” “Search me.” Quietly as possible, they crept al ong 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 s them. They shrank into the shadows and watched as it emerged into a patch of moonlight. It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite grey, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It ha d short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell comi ng 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 waggled its long ears, making up its tiny mi nd, then slouched slowly into the room.<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. 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 Hu fflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corrido r and hurried off towards the girls’ toilets. They had just turned th e corner when they heard quick footsteps behind them. “Percy!”<|quote|>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.</|quote|>“What’s he doing?” Harry whispered. “Why isn’t he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?” “Search me.” Quietly as possible, they crept al ong 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 s them. They shrank into the shadows and watched as it emerged into a patch of moonlight. It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite grey, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It ha d short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell comi ng 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 waggled its long ears, making up its tiny mi nd, then slouched slowly into the room.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>Harry repeated, as Wood took out a bright red ball about the size of a football. “This ball’s called the Quaffle,” said Wood. “The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try and ge t it through one of the hoops to score a goal. Ten points every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops. Follow me?” “The Chasers throw the Quaffle an d put it through the hoops to score,” Harry recited. “So – that’s sort of like basketball on broomsticks with six hoops, isn’t it?” “What’s basketball?” said Wood curiously. “Never mind,” said Harry quickly.<|quote|>“Now, there’s another player on ea ch side who’s called the Keeper – I’m Keeper for Gryffindor. I have to fly around our hoops and stop the other team from scoring.”</|quote|>“Three Chasers, one Keeper,” said Harry, who was determined to remember it all. “And they play with the Quaffle. OK, got that. So what are they for?” He pointed at the three balls left inside the box. “I’ll show you now,” said Wood. “Take this.” He handed Harry a small club, a bit like a rounders bat. “I’m going to show you what the Bludgers do,” Wood said. “These two are the Bludgers.” He showed Harry two identical balls , jet black and slightly smaller than the red Quaffle. Harry noticed that they seemed to be straining to escape the straps holding them inside the box.<|speaker|>Oliver Wood<eos> | <bos><|context|>Harry repeated, as Wood took out a bright red ball about the size of a football. “This ball’s called the Quaffle,” said Wood. “The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try and ge t it through one of the hoops to score a goal. Ten points every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops. Follow me?” “The Chasers throw the Quaffle an d put it through the hoops to score,” Harry recited. “So – that’s sort of like basketball on broomsticks with six hoops, isn’t it?” “What’s basketball?” said Wood curiously. “Never mind,” said Harry quickly.<|quote|>“Now, there’s another player on ea ch side who’s called the Keeper – I’m Keeper for Gryffindor. I have to fly around our hoops and stop the other team from scoring.”</|quote|>“Three Chasers, one Keeper,” said Harry, who was determined to remember it all. “And they play with the Quaffle. OK, got that. So what are they for?” He pointed at the three balls left inside the box. “I’ll show you now,” said Wood. “Take this.” He handed Harry a small club, a bit like a rounders bat. “I’m going to show you what the Bludgers do,” Wood said. “These two are the Bludgers.” He showed Harry two identical balls , jet black and slightly smaller than the red Quaffle. Harry noticed that they seemed to be straining to escape the straps holding them inside the box.<|speaker|> | Oliver Wood | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Harry repeated, as Wood took out a bright red ball about the size of a football. “This ball’s called the Quaffle,” said Wood. “The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try and ge t it through one of the hoops to score a goal. Ten points every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops. Follow me?” “The Chasers throw the Quaffle an d put it through the hoops to score,” Harry recited. “So – that’s sort of like basketball on broomsticks with six hoops, isn’t it?” “What’s basketball?” said Wood curiously. “Never mind,” said Harry quickly.<|quote|>“Now, there’s another player on ea ch side who’s called the Keeper – I’m Keeper for Gryffindor. I have to fly around our hoops and stop the other team from scoring.”</|quote|>“Three Chasers, one Keeper,” said Harry, who was determined to remember it all. “And they play with the Quaffle. OK, got that. So what are they for?” He pointed at the three balls left inside the box. “I’ll show you now,” said Wood. “Take this.” He handed Harry a small club, a bit like a rounders bat. “I’m going to show you what the Bludgers do,” Wood said. “These two are the Bludgers.” He showed Harry two identical balls , jet black and slightly smaller than the red Quaffle. Harry noticed that they seemed to be straining to escape the straps holding them inside the box.<|speaker|>Oliver Wood<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Harry repeated, as Wood took out a bright red ball about the size of a football. “This ball’s called the Quaffle,” said Wood. “The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try and ge t it through one of the hoops to score a goal. Ten points every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops. Follow me?” “The Chasers throw the Quaffle an d put it through the hoops to score,” Harry recited. “So – that’s sort of like basketball on broomsticks with six hoops, isn’t it?” “What’s basketball?” said Wood curiously. “Never mind,” said Harry quickly.<|quote|>“Now, there’s another player on ea ch side who’s called the Keeper – I’m Keeper for Gryffindor. I have to fly around our hoops and stop the other team from scoring.”</|quote|>“Three Chasers, one Keeper,” said Harry, who was determined to remember it all. “And they play with the Quaffle. OK, got that. So what are they for?” He pointed at the three balls left inside the box. “I’ll show you now,” said Wood. “Take this.” He handed Harry a small club, a bit like a rounders bat. “I’m going to show you what the Bludgers do,” Wood said. “These two are the Bludgers.” He showed Harry two identical balls , jet black and slightly smaller than the red Quaffle. Harry noticed that they seemed to be straining to escape the straps holding them inside the box.<|speaker|> | <|context|>Harry repeated, as Wood took out a bright red ball about the size of a football. “This ball’s called the Quaffle,” said Wood. “The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try and ge t it through one of the hoops to score a goal. Ten points every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops. Follow me?” “The Chasers throw the Quaffle an d put it through the hoops to score,” Harry recited. “So – that’s sort of like basketball on broomsticks with six hoops, isn’t it?” “What’s basketball?” said Wood curiously. “Never mind,” said Harry quickly.<|quote|>“Now, there’s another player on ea ch side who’s called the Keeper – I’m Keeper for Gryffindor. I have to fly around our hoops and stop the other team from scoring.”</|quote|>“Three Chasers, one Keeper,” said Harry, who was determined to remember it all. “And they play with the Quaffle. OK, got that. So what are they for?” He pointed at the three balls left inside the box. “I’ll show you now,” said Wood. “Take this.” He handed Harry a small club, a bit like a rounders bat. “I’m going to show you what the Bludgers do,” Wood said. “These two are the Bludgers.” He showed Harry two identical balls , jet black and slightly smaller than the red Quaffle. Harry noticed that they seemed to be straining to escape the straps holding them inside the box.<|speaker|>Oliver Wood | <|context|>Harry repeated, as Wood took out a bright red ball about the size of a football. “This ball’s called the Quaffle,” said Wood. “The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try and ge t it through one of the hoops to score a goal. Ten points every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops. Follow me?” “The Chasers throw the Quaffle an d put it through the hoops to score,” Harry recited. “So – that’s sort of like basketball on broomsticks with six hoops, isn’t it?” “What’s basketball?” said Wood curiously. “Never mind,” said Harry quickly.<|quote|>“Now, there’s another player on ea ch side who’s called the Keeper – I’m Keeper for Gryffindor. I have to fly around our hoops and stop the other team from scoring.”</|quote|>“Three Chasers, one Keeper,” said Harry, who was determined to remember it all. “And they play with the Quaffle. OK, got that. So what are they for?” He pointed at the three balls left inside the box. “I’ll show you now,” said Wood. “Take this.” He handed Harry a small club, a bit like a rounders bat. “I’m going to show you what the Bludgers do,” Wood said. “These two are the Bludgers.” He showed Harry two identical balls , jet black and slightly smaller than the red Quaffle. Harry noticed that they seemed to be straining to escape the straps holding them inside the box.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“I met him when I travelled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it … Since then, I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard on me.” Quirrell shivered suddenly. “He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the Stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me … decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me …” Quirrell’s voice tailed away. Harry was remembering his trip to Diagon Alley – how could he have b een so stupid? He’d seen Quirrell there that very day, shaken hands with him in the Leaky Cauldron. Quirrell cursed under his breath. “I don’t understand … is the Stone inside the Mirror? Should I break it?”<|quote|>Harry’s mind was racing. What I want more than anything else in the world at the moment, he thought, is to find the Stone befo re Quirrell does. So if I look in the Mirror, I should see myself finding it – which means I’ll see where it’s hidden! But how can I look without Quirrell realising what I’m up to? He tried to edge to the left, to get in front of the glass without Quirrell noticing, but the ropes around his ankles were too tight: he tripped and fell over. Quirrell ignored him. He was still talking to himself.</|quote|>“What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!” And to Harry’s horror, a voice answ ered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself. “Use the boy … Use the boy …” Quirrell rounded on Harry. “Yes – Potter – come here.” He clapped his hands once and the ropes binding Harry fell off. Harry got slowly to his feet. “Come here,” Quirrell repeated. “Look in the Mirror and tell me what you see.” Harry walked towards him. “I must lie,” he thought desperat ely. “I must look and lie about what I see, that’s all.”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>“I met him when I travelled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it … Since then, I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard on me.” Quirrell shivered suddenly. “He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the Stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me … decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me …” Quirrell’s voice tailed away. Harry was remembering his trip to Diagon Alley – how could he have b een so stupid? He’d seen Quirrell there that very day, shaken hands with him in the Leaky Cauldron. Quirrell cursed under his breath. “I don’t understand … is the Stone inside the Mirror? Should I break it?”<|quote|>Harry’s mind was racing. What I want more than anything else in the world at the moment, he thought, is to find the Stone befo re Quirrell does. So if I look in the Mirror, I should see myself finding it – which means I’ll see where it’s hidden! But how can I look without Quirrell realising what I’m up to? He tried to edge to the left, to get in front of the glass without Quirrell noticing, but the ropes around his ankles were too tight: he tripped and fell over. Quirrell ignored him. He was still talking to himself.</|quote|>“What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!” And to Harry’s horror, a voice answ ered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself. “Use the boy … Use the boy …” Quirrell rounded on Harry. “Yes – Potter – come here.” He clapped his hands once and the ropes binding Harry fell off. Harry got slowly to his feet. “Come here,” Quirrell repeated. “Look in the Mirror and tell me what you see.” Harry walked towards him. “I must lie,” he thought desperat ely. “I must look and lie about what I see, that’s all.”<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“I met him when I travelled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it … Since then, I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard on me.” Quirrell shivered suddenly. “He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the Stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me … decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me …” Quirrell’s voice tailed away. Harry was remembering his trip to Diagon Alley – how could he have b een so stupid? He’d seen Quirrell there that very day, shaken hands with him in the Leaky Cauldron. Quirrell cursed under his breath. “I don’t understand … is the Stone inside the Mirror? Should I break it?”<|quote|>Harry’s mind was racing. What I want more than anything else in the world at the moment, he thought, is to find the Stone befo re Quirrell does. So if I look in the Mirror, I should see myself finding it – which means I’ll see where it’s hidden! But how can I look without Quirrell realising what I’m up to? He tried to edge to the left, to get in front of the glass without Quirrell noticing, but the ropes around his ankles were too tight: he tripped and fell over. Quirrell ignored him. He was still talking to himself.</|quote|>“What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!” And to Harry’s horror, a voice answ ered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself. “Use the boy … Use the boy …” Quirrell rounded on Harry. “Yes – Potter – come here.” He clapped his hands once and the ropes binding Harry fell off. Harry got slowly to his feet. “Come here,” Quirrell repeated. “Look in the Mirror and tell me what you see.” Harry walked towards him. “I must lie,” he thought desperat ely. “I must look and lie about what I see, that’s all.”<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“I met him when I travelled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it … Since then, I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard on me.” Quirrell shivered suddenly. “He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the Stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me … decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me …” Quirrell’s voice tailed away. Harry was remembering his trip to Diagon Alley – how could he have b een so stupid? He’d seen Quirrell there that very day, shaken hands with him in the Leaky Cauldron. Quirrell cursed under his breath. “I don’t understand … is the Stone inside the Mirror? Should I break it?”<|quote|>Harry’s mind was racing. What I want more than anything else in the world at the moment, he thought, is to find the Stone befo re Quirrell does. So if I look in the Mirror, I should see myself finding it – which means I’ll see where it’s hidden! But how can I look without Quirrell realising what I’m up to? He tried to edge to the left, to get in front of the glass without Quirrell noticing, but the ropes around his ankles were too tight: he tripped and fell over. Quirrell ignored him. He was still talking to himself.</|quote|>“What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!” And to Harry’s horror, a voice answ ered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself. “Use the boy … Use the boy …” Quirrell rounded on Harry. “Yes – Potter – come here.” He clapped his hands once and the ropes binding Harry fell off. Harry got slowly to his feet. “Come here,” Quirrell repeated. “Look in the Mirror and tell me what you see.” Harry walked towards him. “I must lie,” he thought desperat ely. “I must look and lie about what I see, that’s all.”<|speaker|> | <|context|>“I met him when I travelled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it … Since then, I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard on me.” Quirrell shivered suddenly. “He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the Stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me … decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me …” Quirrell’s voice tailed away. Harry was remembering his trip to Diagon Alley – how could he have b een so stupid? He’d seen Quirrell there that very day, shaken hands with him in the Leaky Cauldron. Quirrell cursed under his breath. “I don’t understand … is the Stone inside the Mirror? Should I break it?”<|quote|>Harry’s mind was racing. What I want more than anything else in the world at the moment, he thought, is to find the Stone befo re Quirrell does. So if I look in the Mirror, I should see myself finding it – which means I’ll see where it’s hidden! But how can I look without Quirrell realising what I’m up to? He tried to edge to the left, to get in front of the glass without Quirrell noticing, but the ropes around his ankles were too tight: he tripped and fell over. Quirrell ignored him. He was still talking to himself.</|quote|>“What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!” And to Harry’s horror, a voice answ ered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself. “Use the boy … Use the boy …” Quirrell rounded on Harry. “Yes – Potter – come here.” He clapped his hands once and the ropes binding Harry fell off. Harry got slowly to his feet. “Come here,” Quirrell repeated. “Look in the Mirror and tell me what you see.” Harry walked towards him. “I must lie,” he thought desperat ely. “I must look and lie about what I see, that’s all.”<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>“I met him when I travelled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it … Since then, I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard on me.” Quirrell shivered suddenly. “He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the Stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me … decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me …” Quirrell’s voice tailed away. Harry was remembering his trip to Diagon Alley – how could he have b een so stupid? He’d seen Quirrell there that very day, shaken hands with him in the Leaky Cauldron. Quirrell cursed under his breath. “I don’t understand … is the Stone inside the Mirror? Should I break it?”<|quote|>Harry’s mind was racing. What I want more than anything else in the world at the moment, he thought, is to find the Stone befo re Quirrell does. So if I look in the Mirror, I should see myself finding it – which means I’ll see where it’s hidden! But how can I look without Quirrell realising what I’m up to? He tried to edge to the left, to get in front of the glass without Quirrell noticing, but the ropes around his ankles were too tight: he tripped and fell over. Quirrell ignored him. He was still talking to himself.</|quote|>“What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!” And to Harry’s horror, a voice answ ered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself. “Use the boy … Use the boy …” Quirrell rounded on Harry. “Yes – Potter – come here.” He clapped his hands once and the ropes binding Harry fell off. Harry got slowly to his feet. “Come here,” Quirrell repeated. “Look in the Mirror and tell me what you see.” Harry walked towards him. “I must lie,” he thought desperat ely. “I must look and lie about what I see, that’s all.”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“Oh no – oh no – I’ve just remembered – Charlie’s le tter was in that book Malfoy took, he’s going to know we’re getting rid of Norbert.” Harry and Hermione didn’t get a chance to answer. Madam Pomfrey came over at that moment and made them leave, saying Ron needed sleep. * “It’s too late to change the plan now,” Harry told Hermione. “We haven’t got time to send Charlie another owl and this could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert. We’ll have to risk it. And we have got the Invisibility Cloak, Malfoy doesn’t know about that.” They found Fang the boarhound sitti ng outside with a bandaged tail when they went to tell Hagrid, who opened a window to talk to them. “I won’t let you in,” he puffed. “Norbert’s at a tricky stage – noth-in’ I can’t handle.”<|quote|>When they told him about Charlie’s letter, his eyes filled with tears, although that might have been because Norbert had just bitten him on the leg.</|quote|>“Aargh! It’s all right, he only got my boot – jus’ playin’ – he’s only a baby, after all.” The baby banged its tail on the wall, making the windows rattle. Harry and Hermione walked back to the castle, feeling Saturday couldn’t come quickly enough. * They would have felt sorry for Hagrid when the time came for him to say goodbye to Norbert if they hadn’t been so worried about what they had to do. It was a very dark, cloudy night and they were a bit late arriving at Hagrid’s hut because they’d had to wait for Peeves to get out of their way in the Entrance Ha ll, where he’d been playing tennis against the wall. Hagrid had Norbert packed and ready in a large crate.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>“Oh no – oh no – I’ve just remembered – Charlie’s le tter was in that book Malfoy took, he’s going to know we’re getting rid of Norbert.” Harry and Hermione didn’t get a chance to answer. Madam Pomfrey came over at that moment and made them leave, saying Ron needed sleep. * “It’s too late to change the plan now,” Harry told Hermione. “We haven’t got time to send Charlie another owl and this could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert. We’ll have to risk it. And we have got the Invisibility Cloak, Malfoy doesn’t know about that.” They found Fang the boarhound sitti ng outside with a bandaged tail when they went to tell Hagrid, who opened a window to talk to them. “I won’t let you in,” he puffed. “Norbert’s at a tricky stage – noth-in’ I can’t handle.”<|quote|>When they told him about Charlie’s letter, his eyes filled with tears, although that might have been because Norbert had just bitten him on the leg.</|quote|>“Aargh! It’s all right, he only got my boot – jus’ playin’ – he’s only a baby, after all.” The baby banged its tail on the wall, making the windows rattle. Harry and Hermione walked back to the castle, feeling Saturday couldn’t come quickly enough. * They would have felt sorry for Hagrid when the time came for him to say goodbye to Norbert if they hadn’t been so worried about what they had to do. It was a very dark, cloudy night and they were a bit late arriving at Hagrid’s hut because they’d had to wait for Peeves to get out of their way in the Entrance Ha ll, where he’d been playing tennis against the wall. Hagrid had Norbert packed and ready in a large crate.<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Oh no – oh no – I’ve just remembered – Charlie’s le tter was in that book Malfoy took, he’s going to know we’re getting rid of Norbert.” Harry and Hermione didn’t get a chance to answer. Madam Pomfrey came over at that moment and made them leave, saying Ron needed sleep. * “It’s too late to change the plan now,” Harry told Hermione. “We haven’t got time to send Charlie another owl and this could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert. We’ll have to risk it. And we have got the Invisibility Cloak, Malfoy doesn’t know about that.” They found Fang the boarhound sitti ng outside with a bandaged tail when they went to tell Hagrid, who opened a window to talk to them. “I won’t let you in,” he puffed. “Norbert’s at a tricky stage – noth-in’ I can’t handle.”<|quote|>When they told him about Charlie’s letter, his eyes filled with tears, although that might have been because Norbert had just bitten him on the leg.</|quote|>“Aargh! It’s all right, he only got my boot – jus’ playin’ – he’s only a baby, after all.” The baby banged its tail on the wall, making the windows rattle. Harry and Hermione walked back to the castle, feeling Saturday couldn’t come quickly enough. * They would have felt sorry for Hagrid when the time came for him to say goodbye to Norbert if they hadn’t been so worried about what they had to do. It was a very dark, cloudy night and they were a bit late arriving at Hagrid’s hut because they’d had to wait for Peeves to get out of their way in the Entrance Ha ll, where he’d been playing tennis against the wall. Hagrid had Norbert packed and ready in a large crate.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Oh no – oh no – I’ve just remembered – Charlie’s le tter was in that book Malfoy took, he’s going to know we’re getting rid of Norbert.” Harry and Hermione didn’t get a chance to answer. Madam Pomfrey came over at that moment and made them leave, saying Ron needed sleep. * “It’s too late to change the plan now,” Harry told Hermione. “We haven’t got time to send Charlie another owl and this could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert. We’ll have to risk it. And we have got the Invisibility Cloak, Malfoy doesn’t know about that.” They found Fang the boarhound sitti ng outside with a bandaged tail when they went to tell Hagrid, who opened a window to talk to them. “I won’t let you in,” he puffed. “Norbert’s at a tricky stage – noth-in’ I can’t handle.”<|quote|>When they told him about Charlie’s letter, his eyes filled with tears, although that might have been because Norbert had just bitten him on the leg.</|quote|>“Aargh! It’s all right, he only got my boot – jus’ playin’ – he’s only a baby, after all.” The baby banged its tail on the wall, making the windows rattle. Harry and Hermione walked back to the castle, feeling Saturday couldn’t come quickly enough. * They would have felt sorry for Hagrid when the time came for him to say goodbye to Norbert if they hadn’t been so worried about what they had to do. It was a very dark, cloudy night and they were a bit late arriving at Hagrid’s hut because they’d had to wait for Peeves to get out of their way in the Entrance Ha ll, where he’d been playing tennis against the wall. Hagrid had Norbert packed and ready in a large crate.<|speaker|> | <|context|>“Oh no – oh no – I’ve just remembered – Charlie’s le tter was in that book Malfoy took, he’s going to know we’re getting rid of Norbert.” Harry and Hermione didn’t get a chance to answer. Madam Pomfrey came over at that moment and made them leave, saying Ron needed sleep. * “It’s too late to change the plan now,” Harry told Hermione. “We haven’t got time to send Charlie another owl and this could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert. We’ll have to risk it. And we have got the Invisibility Cloak, Malfoy doesn’t know about that.” They found Fang the boarhound sitti ng outside with a bandaged tail when they went to tell Hagrid, who opened a window to talk to them. “I won’t let you in,” he puffed. “Norbert’s at a tricky stage – noth-in’ I can’t handle.”<|quote|>When they told him about Charlie’s letter, his eyes filled with tears, although that might have been because Norbert had just bitten him on the leg.</|quote|>“Aargh! It’s all right, he only got my boot – jus’ playin’ – he’s only a baby, after all.” The baby banged its tail on the wall, making the windows rattle. Harry and Hermione walked back to the castle, feeling Saturday couldn’t come quickly enough. * They would have felt sorry for Hagrid when the time came for him to say goodbye to Norbert if they hadn’t been so worried about what they had to do. It was a very dark, cloudy night and they were a bit late arriving at Hagrid’s hut because they’d had to wait for Peeves to get out of their way in the Entrance Ha ll, where he’d been playing tennis against the wall. Hagrid had Norbert packed and ready in a large crate.<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>“Oh no – oh no – I’ve just remembered – Charlie’s le tter was in that book Malfoy took, he’s going to know we’re getting rid of Norbert.” Harry and Hermione didn’t get a chance to answer. Madam Pomfrey came over at that moment and made them leave, saying Ron needed sleep. * “It’s too late to change the plan now,” Harry told Hermione. “We haven’t got time to send Charlie another owl and this could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert. We’ll have to risk it. And we have got the Invisibility Cloak, Malfoy doesn’t know about that.” They found Fang the boarhound sitti ng outside with a bandaged tail when they went to tell Hagrid, who opened a window to talk to them. “I won’t let you in,” he puffed. “Norbert’s at a tricky stage – noth-in’ I can’t handle.”<|quote|>When they told him about Charlie’s letter, his eyes filled with tears, although that might have been because Norbert had just bitten him on the leg.</|quote|>“Aargh! It’s all right, he only got my boot – jus’ playin’ – he’s only a baby, after all.” The baby banged its tail on the wall, making the windows rattle. Harry and Hermione walked back to the castle, feeling Saturday couldn’t come quickly enough. * They would have felt sorry for Hagrid when the time came for him to say goodbye to Norbert if they hadn’t been so worried about what they had to do. It was a very dark, cloudy night and they were a bit late arriving at Hagrid’s hut because they’d had to wait for Peeves to get out of their way in the Entrance Ha ll, where he’d been playing tennis against the wall. Hagrid had Norbert packed and ready in a large crate.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over and ov er, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crow d gasped. Harry’s broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand. “Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?” Seamus whispered. “Can’t have,” Hagrid said, his voice shaking. “Can’t nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark Magic – no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand.” At these words, Hermione seized Hagrid’s binoculars, but instead of looking up at Harry, she started l ooking frantically at the crowd. “What are you doing?” moaned Ron, grey-faced. “I knew it,” Hermione gasped.<|quote|>“Snape – look.”</|quote|>Ron grabbed the binoculars. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering non-stop under his breath. “He’s doing something – jinxing the broom,” said Hermione. “What should we do?” “Leave it to me.” Before Ron could say another word, Hermione had disappeared. Ron turned the binoculars back on Harry. His broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for him to hang on much longer. The whole crowd were on their feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasleys flew up to try and pull Harry safely on to one of their brooms, but it was no good – every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.<|speaker|>Hermione Granger<eos> | <bos><|context|>Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over and ov er, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crow d gasped. Harry’s broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand. “Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?” Seamus whispered. “Can’t have,” Hagrid said, his voice shaking. “Can’t nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark Magic – no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand.” At these words, Hermione seized Hagrid’s binoculars, but instead of looking up at Harry, she started l ooking frantically at the crowd. “What are you doing?” moaned Ron, grey-faced. “I knew it,” Hermione gasped.<|quote|>“Snape – look.”</|quote|>Ron grabbed the binoculars. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering non-stop under his breath. “He’s doing something – jinxing the broom,” said Hermione. “What should we do?” “Leave it to me.” Before Ron could say another word, Hermione had disappeared. Ron turned the binoculars back on Harry. His broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for him to hang on much longer. The whole crowd were on their feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasleys flew up to try and pull Harry safely on to one of their brooms, but it was no good – every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.<|speaker|> | Hermione Granger | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over and ov er, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crow d gasped. Harry’s broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand. “Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?” Seamus whispered. “Can’t have,” Hagrid said, his voice shaking. “Can’t nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark Magic – no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand.” At these words, Hermione seized Hagrid’s binoculars, but instead of looking up at Harry, she started l ooking frantically at the crowd. “What are you doing?” moaned Ron, grey-faced. “I knew it,” Hermione gasped.<|quote|>“Snape – look.”</|quote|>Ron grabbed the binoculars. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering non-stop under his breath. “He’s doing something – jinxing the broom,” said Hermione. “What should we do?” “Leave it to me.” Before Ron could say another word, Hermione had disappeared. Ron turned the binoculars back on Harry. His broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for him to hang on much longer. The whole crowd were on their feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasleys flew up to try and pull Harry safely on to one of their brooms, but it was no good – every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.<|speaker|>Hermione Granger<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over and ov er, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crow d gasped. Harry’s broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand. “Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?” Seamus whispered. “Can’t have,” Hagrid said, his voice shaking. “Can’t nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark Magic – no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand.” At these words, Hermione seized Hagrid’s binoculars, but instead of looking up at Harry, she started l ooking frantically at the crowd. “What are you doing?” moaned Ron, grey-faced. “I knew it,” Hermione gasped.<|quote|>“Snape – look.”</|quote|>Ron grabbed the binoculars. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering non-stop under his breath. “He’s doing something – jinxing the broom,” said Hermione. “What should we do?” “Leave it to me.” Before Ron could say another word, Hermione had disappeared. Ron turned the binoculars back on Harry. His broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for him to hang on much longer. The whole crowd were on their feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasleys flew up to try and pull Harry safely on to one of their brooms, but it was no good – every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.<|speaker|> | <|context|>Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over and ov er, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crow d gasped. Harry’s broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand. “Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?” Seamus whispered. “Can’t have,” Hagrid said, his voice shaking. “Can’t nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark Magic – no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand.” At these words, Hermione seized Hagrid’s binoculars, but instead of looking up at Harry, she started l ooking frantically at the crowd. “What are you doing?” moaned Ron, grey-faced. “I knew it,” Hermione gasped.<|quote|>“Snape – look.”</|quote|>Ron grabbed the binoculars. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering non-stop under his breath. “He’s doing something – jinxing the broom,” said Hermione. “What should we do?” “Leave it to me.” Before Ron could say another word, Hermione had disappeared. Ron turned the binoculars back on Harry. His broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for him to hang on much longer. The whole crowd were on their feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasleys flew up to try and pull Harry safely on to one of their brooms, but it was no good – every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.<|speaker|>Hermione Granger | <|context|>Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over and ov er, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crow d gasped. Harry’s broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand. “Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?” Seamus whispered. “Can’t have,” Hagrid said, his voice shaking. “Can’t nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark Magic – no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand.” At these words, Hermione seized Hagrid’s binoculars, but instead of looking up at Harry, she started l ooking frantically at the crowd. “What are you doing?” moaned Ron, grey-faced. “I knew it,” Hermione gasped.<|quote|>“Snape – look.”</|quote|>Ron grabbed the binoculars. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering non-stop under his breath. “He’s doing something – jinxing the broom,” said Hermione. “What should we do?” “Leave it to me.” Before Ron could say another word, Hermione had disappeared. Ron turned the binoculars back on Harry. His broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for him to hang on much longer. The whole crowd were on their feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasleys flew up to try and pull Harry safely on to one of their brooms, but it was no good – every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“Years an’ years ago,” said Hagrid. They bought Harry’s school books in a shop called Flourish and Blotts where the shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in le ather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at a ll. Even Dudley, who never read anything, would have been wild to get his hands on some of these. Hagrid almost had to drag Harry away from Curses and Counter-Curses (Bewitch your Friends an d Befuddle your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and much, much more) by Professor Vindictus Viridian.<|quote|>“I was trying to find out how to curse Dudley.”</|quote|>“I’m not sayin’ that’s not a good idea, but yer not ter use magic in the Muggle world except in very spec ial circumstances,” said Hagrid. “An’ anyway, yeh couldn’ work any of them curses yet, yeh’ll need a lot more study before yeh get ter that level.” Hagrid wouldn’t let Harry buy a solid gold cauldron, either (’It says pewter on yer list’), but they got a nice set of scales for weighing potion ingredients and a collapsible brass telescope. Then they visited the apothecary’s, which was fascinati ng enough to make up for its horrible smell, a mixture of bad eggs and rotted cabbages. Barrels of slimy stuff stood on the floor, jars of herbs, dried roots and bright powders lined the walls, bundles of feathers, strings of fangs and snarled claws hung from the ceiling. While Hagrid asked the man behind the counter for a supply of some basic potion ingredients for Harry, Harry himself examined silver unicorn horns at twenty-one Galleons each and minuscule, glittery black beetle eyes (five Knuts a scoop). Outside the apothecary’s, Hagr id checked Harry’s list again.<|speaker|>Harry Potter<eos> | <bos><|context|>“Years an’ years ago,” said Hagrid. They bought Harry’s school books in a shop called Flourish and Blotts where the shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in le ather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at a ll. Even Dudley, who never read anything, would have been wild to get his hands on some of these. Hagrid almost had to drag Harry away from Curses and Counter-Curses (Bewitch your Friends an d Befuddle your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and much, much more) by Professor Vindictus Viridian.<|quote|>“I was trying to find out how to curse Dudley.”</|quote|>“I’m not sayin’ that’s not a good idea, but yer not ter use magic in the Muggle world except in very spec ial circumstances,” said Hagrid. “An’ anyway, yeh couldn’ work any of them curses yet, yeh’ll need a lot more study before yeh get ter that level.” Hagrid wouldn’t let Harry buy a solid gold cauldron, either (’It says pewter on yer list’), but they got a nice set of scales for weighing potion ingredients and a collapsible brass telescope. Then they visited the apothecary’s, which was fascinati ng enough to make up for its horrible smell, a mixture of bad eggs and rotted cabbages. Barrels of slimy stuff stood on the floor, jars of herbs, dried roots and bright powders lined the walls, bundles of feathers, strings of fangs and snarled claws hung from the ceiling. While Hagrid asked the man behind the counter for a supply of some basic potion ingredients for Harry, Harry himself examined silver unicorn horns at twenty-one Galleons each and minuscule, glittery black beetle eyes (five Knuts a scoop). Outside the apothecary’s, Hagr id checked Harry’s list again.<|speaker|> | Harry Potter | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Years an’ years ago,” said Hagrid. They bought Harry’s school books in a shop called Flourish and Blotts where the shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in le ather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at a ll. Even Dudley, who never read anything, would have been wild to get his hands on some of these. Hagrid almost had to drag Harry away from Curses and Counter-Curses (Bewitch your Friends an d Befuddle your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and much, much more) by Professor Vindictus Viridian.<|quote|>“I was trying to find out how to curse Dudley.”</|quote|>“I’m not sayin’ that’s not a good idea, but yer not ter use magic in the Muggle world except in very spec ial circumstances,” said Hagrid. “An’ anyway, yeh couldn’ work any of them curses yet, yeh’ll need a lot more study before yeh get ter that level.” Hagrid wouldn’t let Harry buy a solid gold cauldron, either (’It says pewter on yer list’), but they got a nice set of scales for weighing potion ingredients and a collapsible brass telescope. Then they visited the apothecary’s, which was fascinati ng enough to make up for its horrible smell, a mixture of bad eggs and rotted cabbages. Barrels of slimy stuff stood on the floor, jars of herbs, dried roots and bright powders lined the walls, bundles of feathers, strings of fangs and snarled claws hung from the ceiling. While Hagrid asked the man behind the counter for a supply of some basic potion ingredients for Harry, Harry himself examined silver unicorn horns at twenty-one Galleons each and minuscule, glittery black beetle eyes (five Knuts a scoop). Outside the apothecary’s, Hagr id checked Harry’s list again.<|speaker|>Harry Potter<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Years an’ years ago,” said Hagrid. They bought Harry’s school books in a shop called Flourish and Blotts where the shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in le ather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at a ll. Even Dudley, who never read anything, would have been wild to get his hands on some of these. Hagrid almost had to drag Harry away from Curses and Counter-Curses (Bewitch your Friends an d Befuddle your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and much, much more) by Professor Vindictus Viridian.<|quote|>“I was trying to find out how to curse Dudley.”</|quote|>“I’m not sayin’ that’s not a good idea, but yer not ter use magic in the Muggle world except in very spec ial circumstances,” said Hagrid. “An’ anyway, yeh couldn’ work any of them curses yet, yeh’ll need a lot more study before yeh get ter that level.” Hagrid wouldn’t let Harry buy a solid gold cauldron, either (’It says pewter on yer list’), but they got a nice set of scales for weighing potion ingredients and a collapsible brass telescope. Then they visited the apothecary’s, which was fascinati ng enough to make up for its horrible smell, a mixture of bad eggs and rotted cabbages. Barrels of slimy stuff stood on the floor, jars of herbs, dried roots and bright powders lined the walls, bundles of feathers, strings of fangs and snarled claws hung from the ceiling. While Hagrid asked the man behind the counter for a supply of some basic potion ingredients for Harry, Harry himself examined silver unicorn horns at twenty-one Galleons each and minuscule, glittery black beetle eyes (five Knuts a scoop). Outside the apothecary’s, Hagr id checked Harry’s list again.<|speaker|> | <|context|>“Years an’ years ago,” said Hagrid. They bought Harry’s school books in a shop called Flourish and Blotts where the shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in le ather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at a ll. Even Dudley, who never read anything, would have been wild to get his hands on some of these. Hagrid almost had to drag Harry away from Curses and Counter-Curses (Bewitch your Friends an d Befuddle your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and much, much more) by Professor Vindictus Viridian.<|quote|>“I was trying to find out how to curse Dudley.”</|quote|>“I’m not sayin’ that’s not a good idea, but yer not ter use magic in the Muggle world except in very spec ial circumstances,” said Hagrid. “An’ anyway, yeh couldn’ work any of them curses yet, yeh’ll need a lot more study before yeh get ter that level.” Hagrid wouldn’t let Harry buy a solid gold cauldron, either (’It says pewter on yer list’), but they got a nice set of scales for weighing potion ingredients and a collapsible brass telescope. Then they visited the apothecary’s, which was fascinati ng enough to make up for its horrible smell, a mixture of bad eggs and rotted cabbages. Barrels of slimy stuff stood on the floor, jars of herbs, dried roots and bright powders lined the walls, bundles of feathers, strings of fangs and snarled claws hung from the ceiling. While Hagrid asked the man behind the counter for a supply of some basic potion ingredients for Harry, Harry himself examined silver unicorn horns at twenty-one Galleons each and minuscule, glittery black beetle eyes (five Knuts a scoop). Outside the apothecary’s, Hagr id checked Harry’s list again.<|speaker|>Harry Potter | <|context|>“Years an’ years ago,” said Hagrid. They bought Harry’s school books in a shop called Flourish and Blotts where the shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in le ather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at a ll. Even Dudley, who never read anything, would have been wild to get his hands on some of these. Hagrid almost had to drag Harry away from Curses and Counter-Curses (Bewitch your Friends an d Befuddle your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and much, much more) by Professor Vindictus Viridian.<|quote|>“I was trying to find out how to curse Dudley.”</|quote|>“I’m not sayin’ that’s not a good idea, but yer not ter use magic in the Muggle world except in very spec ial circumstances,” said Hagrid. “An’ anyway, yeh couldn’ work any of them curses yet, yeh’ll need a lot more study before yeh get ter that level.” Hagrid wouldn’t let Harry buy a solid gold cauldron, either (’It says pewter on yer list’), but they got a nice set of scales for weighing potion ingredients and a collapsible brass telescope. Then they visited the apothecary’s, which was fascinati ng enough to make up for its horrible smell, a mixture of bad eggs and rotted cabbages. Barrels of slimy stuff stood on the floor, jars of herbs, dried roots and bright powders lined the walls, bundles of feathers, strings of fangs and snarled claws hung from the ceiling. While Hagrid asked the man behind the counter for a supply of some basic potion ingredients for Harry, Harry himself examined silver unicorn horns at twenty-one Galleons each and minuscule, glittery black beetle eyes (five Knuts a scoop). Outside the apothecary’s, Hagr id checked Harry’s list again.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>Someone had poked Ron in the back of the head. It was Malfoy. “Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn’t see you there.” Malfoy grinned broadly at Crabbe and Goyle. “Wonder how long Potter’s going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?” Ron didn’t answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Weasley had hit a Bludger at him. Hermione, who had all her fingers crossed in her lap, was squinting fixedly at Harry, who was circling the game like a hawk, looking for the Snitch. “You know how I think they ch oose people for the Gryffindor team?”<|quote|>said Malfoy loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all.</|quote|>“It’s people they feel sorry for. See, there’s Potter, who’s got no parents, then there’s the Weasleys, who’ve got no money – you should be on the team, Longbottom, you’ve got no brains.” Neville went bright red but turned in his seat to face Malfoy. “I’m worth twelve of you, Malfoy,” he stammered. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle howled with laughter, but Ron, still not daring to take his eyes from the game, said, “You tell him, Neville.” “Longbottom, if brains were gold you’d be poorer than Weasley, and that’s saying something.” Ron’s nerves were already stretched to breaking point with anxiety about Harry.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>Someone had poked Ron in the back of the head. It was Malfoy. “Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn’t see you there.” Malfoy grinned broadly at Crabbe and Goyle. “Wonder how long Potter’s going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?” Ron didn’t answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Weasley had hit a Bludger at him. Hermione, who had all her fingers crossed in her lap, was squinting fixedly at Harry, who was circling the game like a hawk, looking for the Snitch. “You know how I think they ch oose people for the Gryffindor team?”<|quote|>said Malfoy loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all.</|quote|>“It’s people they feel sorry for. See, there’s Potter, who’s got no parents, then there’s the Weasleys, who’ve got no money – you should be on the team, Longbottom, you’ve got no brains.” Neville went bright red but turned in his seat to face Malfoy. “I’m worth twelve of you, Malfoy,” he stammered. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle howled with laughter, but Ron, still not daring to take his eyes from the game, said, “You tell him, Neville.” “Longbottom, if brains were gold you’d be poorer than Weasley, and that’s saying something.” Ron’s nerves were already stretched to breaking point with anxiety about Harry.<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Someone had poked Ron in the back of the head. It was Malfoy. “Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn’t see you there.” Malfoy grinned broadly at Crabbe and Goyle. “Wonder how long Potter’s going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?” Ron didn’t answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Weasley had hit a Bludger at him. Hermione, who had all her fingers crossed in her lap, was squinting fixedly at Harry, who was circling the game like a hawk, looking for the Snitch. “You know how I think they ch oose people for the Gryffindor team?”<|quote|>said Malfoy loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all.</|quote|>“It’s people they feel sorry for. See, there’s Potter, who’s got no parents, then there’s the Weasleys, who’ve got no money – you should be on the team, Longbottom, you’ve got no brains.” Neville went bright red but turned in his seat to face Malfoy. “I’m worth twelve of you, Malfoy,” he stammered. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle howled with laughter, but Ron, still not daring to take his eyes from the game, said, “You tell him, Neville.” “Longbottom, if brains were gold you’d be poorer than Weasley, and that’s saying something.” Ron’s nerves were already stretched to breaking point with anxiety about Harry.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Someone had poked Ron in the back of the head. It was Malfoy. “Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn’t see you there.” Malfoy grinned broadly at Crabbe and Goyle. “Wonder how long Potter’s going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?” Ron didn’t answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Weasley had hit a Bludger at him. Hermione, who had all her fingers crossed in her lap, was squinting fixedly at Harry, who was circling the game like a hawk, looking for the Snitch. “You know how I think they ch oose people for the Gryffindor team?”<|quote|>said Malfoy loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all.</|quote|>“It’s people they feel sorry for. See, there’s Potter, who’s got no parents, then there’s the Weasleys, who’ve got no money – you should be on the team, Longbottom, you’ve got no brains.” Neville went bright red but turned in his seat to face Malfoy. “I’m worth twelve of you, Malfoy,” he stammered. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle howled with laughter, but Ron, still not daring to take his eyes from the game, said, “You tell him, Neville.” “Longbottom, if brains were gold you’d be poorer than Weasley, and that’s saying something.” Ron’s nerves were already stretched to breaking point with anxiety about Harry.<|speaker|> | <|context|>Someone had poked Ron in the back of the head. It was Malfoy. “Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn’t see you there.” Malfoy grinned broadly at Crabbe and Goyle. “Wonder how long Potter’s going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?” Ron didn’t answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Weasley had hit a Bludger at him. Hermione, who had all her fingers crossed in her lap, was squinting fixedly at Harry, who was circling the game like a hawk, looking for the Snitch. “You know how I think they ch oose people for the Gryffindor team?”<|quote|>said Malfoy loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all.</|quote|>“It’s people they feel sorry for. See, there’s Potter, who’s got no parents, then there’s the Weasleys, who’ve got no money – you should be on the team, Longbottom, you’ve got no brains.” Neville went bright red but turned in his seat to face Malfoy. “I’m worth twelve of you, Malfoy,” he stammered. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle howled with laughter, but Ron, still not daring to take his eyes from the game, said, “You tell him, Neville.” “Longbottom, if brains were gold you’d be poorer than Weasley, and that’s saying something.” Ron’s nerves were already stretched to breaking point with anxiety about Harry.<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>Someone had poked Ron in the back of the head. It was Malfoy. “Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn’t see you there.” Malfoy grinned broadly at Crabbe and Goyle. “Wonder how long Potter’s going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?” Ron didn’t answer; Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Weasley had hit a Bludger at him. Hermione, who had all her fingers crossed in her lap, was squinting fixedly at Harry, who was circling the game like a hawk, looking for the Snitch. “You know how I think they ch oose people for the Gryffindor team?”<|quote|>said Malfoy loudly a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all.</|quote|>“It’s people they feel sorry for. See, there’s Potter, who’s got no parents, then there’s the Weasleys, who’ve got no money – you should be on the team, Longbottom, you’ve got no brains.” Neville went bright red but turned in his seat to face Malfoy. “I’m worth twelve of you, Malfoy,” he stammered. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle howled with laughter, but Ron, still not daring to take his eyes from the game, said, “You tell him, Neville.” “Longbottom, if brains were gold you’d be poorer than Weasley, and that’s saying something.” Ron’s nerves were already stretched to breaking point with anxiety about Harry.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>The baby banged its tail on the wall, making the windows rattle. Harry and Hermione walked back to the castle, feeling Saturday couldn’t come quickly enough. * They would have felt sorry for Hagrid when the time came for him to say goodbye to Norbert if they hadn’t been so worried about what they had to do. It was a very dark, cloudy night and they were a bit late arriving at Hagrid’s hut because they’d had to wait for Peeves to get out of their way in the Entrance Ha ll, where he’d been playing tennis against the wall. Hagrid had Norbert packed and ready in a large crate. “He’s got lots o’ rats an’ some br andy fer the journey,”<|quote|>said Hagrid in a muffled voice.</|quote|>“An’ I’ve packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely.” From inside the crate came ripping noises that sounded to Harry as though teddy was having his head torn off. “Bye-bye, Norbert!” Hagrid sobbed, as Harry and Hermione covered the crate with the Invisibility Cloak and stepped underneath it themselves. “Mummy will never forget you!” How they managed to get the crate back up to the castle, they never knew. Midnight ticked nearer as they heaved Norbert up the marble staircase in the Entrance Hall and along the dark corridors. Up another staircase, then another – ev en one of Harry’s short cuts didn’t make the work much easier.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>The baby banged its tail on the wall, making the windows rattle. Harry and Hermione walked back to the castle, feeling Saturday couldn’t come quickly enough. * They would have felt sorry for Hagrid when the time came for him to say goodbye to Norbert if they hadn’t been so worried about what they had to do. It was a very dark, cloudy night and they were a bit late arriving at Hagrid’s hut because they’d had to wait for Peeves to get out of their way in the Entrance Ha ll, where he’d been playing tennis against the wall. Hagrid had Norbert packed and ready in a large crate. “He’s got lots o’ rats an’ some br andy fer the journey,”<|quote|>said Hagrid in a muffled voice.</|quote|>“An’ I’ve packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely.” From inside the crate came ripping noises that sounded to Harry as though teddy was having his head torn off. “Bye-bye, Norbert!” Hagrid sobbed, as Harry and Hermione covered the crate with the Invisibility Cloak and stepped underneath it themselves. “Mummy will never forget you!” How they managed to get the crate back up to the castle, they never knew. Midnight ticked nearer as they heaved Norbert up the marble staircase in the Entrance Hall and along the dark corridors. Up another staircase, then another – ev en one of Harry’s short cuts didn’t make the work much easier.<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>The baby banged its tail on the wall, making the windows rattle. Harry and Hermione walked back to the castle, feeling Saturday couldn’t come quickly enough. * They would have felt sorry for Hagrid when the time came for him to say goodbye to Norbert if they hadn’t been so worried about what they had to do. It was a very dark, cloudy night and they were a bit late arriving at Hagrid’s hut because they’d had to wait for Peeves to get out of their way in the Entrance Ha ll, where he’d been playing tennis against the wall. Hagrid had Norbert packed and ready in a large crate. “He’s got lots o’ rats an’ some br andy fer the journey,”<|quote|>said Hagrid in a muffled voice.</|quote|>“An’ I’ve packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely.” From inside the crate came ripping noises that sounded to Harry as though teddy was having his head torn off. “Bye-bye, Norbert!” Hagrid sobbed, as Harry and Hermione covered the crate with the Invisibility Cloak and stepped underneath it themselves. “Mummy will never forget you!” How they managed to get the crate back up to the castle, they never knew. Midnight ticked nearer as they heaved Norbert up the marble staircase in the Entrance Hall and along the dark corridors. Up another staircase, then another – ev en one of Harry’s short cuts didn’t make the work much easier.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>The baby banged its tail on the wall, making the windows rattle. Harry and Hermione walked back to the castle, feeling Saturday couldn’t come quickly enough. * They would have felt sorry for Hagrid when the time came for him to say goodbye to Norbert if they hadn’t been so worried about what they had to do. It was a very dark, cloudy night and they were a bit late arriving at Hagrid’s hut because they’d had to wait for Peeves to get out of their way in the Entrance Ha ll, where he’d been playing tennis against the wall. Hagrid had Norbert packed and ready in a large crate. “He’s got lots o’ rats an’ some br andy fer the journey,”<|quote|>said Hagrid in a muffled voice.</|quote|>“An’ I’ve packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely.” From inside the crate came ripping noises that sounded to Harry as though teddy was having his head torn off. “Bye-bye, Norbert!” Hagrid sobbed, as Harry and Hermione covered the crate with the Invisibility Cloak and stepped underneath it themselves. “Mummy will never forget you!” How they managed to get the crate back up to the castle, they never knew. Midnight ticked nearer as they heaved Norbert up the marble staircase in the Entrance Hall and along the dark corridors. Up another staircase, then another – ev en one of Harry’s short cuts didn’t make the work much easier.<|speaker|> | <|context|>The baby banged its tail on the wall, making the windows rattle. Harry and Hermione walked back to the castle, feeling Saturday couldn’t come quickly enough. * They would have felt sorry for Hagrid when the time came for him to say goodbye to Norbert if they hadn’t been so worried about what they had to do. It was a very dark, cloudy night and they were a bit late arriving at Hagrid’s hut because they’d had to wait for Peeves to get out of their way in the Entrance Ha ll, where he’d been playing tennis against the wall. Hagrid had Norbert packed and ready in a large crate. “He’s got lots o’ rats an’ some br andy fer the journey,”<|quote|>said Hagrid in a muffled voice.</|quote|>“An’ I’ve packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely.” From inside the crate came ripping noises that sounded to Harry as though teddy was having his head torn off. “Bye-bye, Norbert!” Hagrid sobbed, as Harry and Hermione covered the crate with the Invisibility Cloak and stepped underneath it themselves. “Mummy will never forget you!” How they managed to get the crate back up to the castle, they never knew. Midnight ticked nearer as they heaved Norbert up the marble staircase in the Entrance Hall and along the dark corridors. Up another staircase, then another – ev en one of Harry’s short cuts didn’t make the work much easier.<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>The baby banged its tail on the wall, making the windows rattle. Harry and Hermione walked back to the castle, feeling Saturday couldn’t come quickly enough. * They would have felt sorry for Hagrid when the time came for him to say goodbye to Norbert if they hadn’t been so worried about what they had to do. It was a very dark, cloudy night and they were a bit late arriving at Hagrid’s hut because they’d had to wait for Peeves to get out of their way in the Entrance Ha ll, where he’d been playing tennis against the wall. Hagrid had Norbert packed and ready in a large crate. “He’s got lots o’ rats an’ some br andy fer the journey,”<|quote|>said Hagrid in a muffled voice.</|quote|>“An’ I’ve packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely.” From inside the crate came ripping noises that sounded to Harry as though teddy was having his head torn off. “Bye-bye, Norbert!” Hagrid sobbed, as Harry and Hermione covered the crate with the Invisibility Cloak and stepped underneath it themselves. “Mummy will never forget you!” How they managed to get the crate back up to the castle, they never knew. Midnight ticked nearer as they heaved Norbert up the marble staircase in the Entrance Hall and along the dark corridors. Up another staircase, then another – ev en one of Harry’s short cuts didn’t make the work much easier.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>“Let’s forget it and go back.” “No.’” Harry hissed. “I know it’s here somewhere.” They passed the ghost of a tall witch gliding in the opposite direction, but saw no one else. Just as Ron started moaning that his feet were dead with cold, Harry spotted the suit of armour. “It’s here – just here. – yes!” They pushed the door open. Ha rry dropped the Cloak from round his shoulders and ran to the mirror. There they were. His mother and father beamed at the sight of him. “See?” Harry whispered.<|quote|>“I can’t see anything.”</|quote|>“Look! Look at them all … there are loads of them …” “I can only see you.” “Look in it properly, go on, stand where I am.” Harry stepped aside, but with Ron in front of the mirror, he couldn’t see his family any more, just Ron in his paisley pyjamas. Ron, though, was staring transfixed at his image. “Look at me!” he said. “Can you see all your family standing around you?” “No – I’m alone – but I’m different – I look older – and I’m Head Boy!” “What?”<|speaker|>Ron Weasley<eos> | <bos><|context|>“Let’s forget it and go back.” “No.’” Harry hissed. “I know it’s here somewhere.” They passed the ghost of a tall witch gliding in the opposite direction, but saw no one else. Just as Ron started moaning that his feet were dead with cold, Harry spotted the suit of armour. “It’s here – just here. – yes!” They pushed the door open. Ha rry dropped the Cloak from round his shoulders and ran to the mirror. There they were. His mother and father beamed at the sight of him. “See?” Harry whispered.<|quote|>“I can’t see anything.”</|quote|>“Look! Look at them all … there are loads of them …” “I can only see you.” “Look in it properly, go on, stand where I am.” Harry stepped aside, but with Ron in front of the mirror, he couldn’t see his family any more, just Ron in his paisley pyjamas. Ron, though, was staring transfixed at his image. “Look at me!” he said. “Can you see all your family standing around you?” “No – I’m alone – but I’m different – I look older – and I’m Head Boy!” “What?”<|speaker|> | Ron Weasley | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Let’s forget it and go back.” “No.’” Harry hissed. “I know it’s here somewhere.” They passed the ghost of a tall witch gliding in the opposite direction, but saw no one else. Just as Ron started moaning that his feet were dead with cold, Harry spotted the suit of armour. “It’s here – just here. – yes!” They pushed the door open. Ha rry dropped the Cloak from round his shoulders and ran to the mirror. There they were. His mother and father beamed at the sight of him. “See?” Harry whispered.<|quote|>“I can’t see anything.”</|quote|>“Look! Look at them all … there are loads of them …” “I can only see you.” “Look in it properly, go on, stand where I am.” Harry stepped aside, but with Ron in front of the mirror, he couldn’t see his family any more, just Ron in his paisley pyjamas. Ron, though, was staring transfixed at his image. “Look at me!” he said. “Can you see all your family standing around you?” “No – I’m alone – but I’m different – I look older – and I’m Head Boy!” “What?”<|speaker|>Ron Weasley<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>“Let’s forget it and go back.” “No.’” Harry hissed. “I know it’s here somewhere.” They passed the ghost of a tall witch gliding in the opposite direction, but saw no one else. Just as Ron started moaning that his feet were dead with cold, Harry spotted the suit of armour. “It’s here – just here. – yes!” They pushed the door open. Ha rry dropped the Cloak from round his shoulders and ran to the mirror. There they were. His mother and father beamed at the sight of him. “See?” Harry whispered.<|quote|>“I can’t see anything.”</|quote|>“Look! Look at them all … there are loads of them …” “I can only see you.” “Look in it properly, go on, stand where I am.” Harry stepped aside, but with Ron in front of the mirror, he couldn’t see his family any more, just Ron in his paisley pyjamas. Ron, though, was staring transfixed at his image. “Look at me!” he said. “Can you see all your family standing around you?” “No – I’m alone – but I’m different – I look older – and I’m Head Boy!” “What?”<|speaker|> | <|context|>“Let’s forget it and go back.” “No.’” Harry hissed. “I know it’s here somewhere.” They passed the ghost of a tall witch gliding in the opposite direction, but saw no one else. Just as Ron started moaning that his feet were dead with cold, Harry spotted the suit of armour. “It’s here – just here. – yes!” They pushed the door open. Ha rry dropped the Cloak from round his shoulders and ran to the mirror. There they were. His mother and father beamed at the sight of him. “See?” Harry whispered.<|quote|>“I can’t see anything.”</|quote|>“Look! Look at them all … there are loads of them …” “I can only see you.” “Look in it properly, go on, stand where I am.” Harry stepped aside, but with Ron in front of the mirror, he couldn’t see his family any more, just Ron in his paisley pyjamas. Ron, though, was staring transfixed at his image. “Look at me!” he said. “Can you see all your family standing around you?” “No – I’m alone – but I’m different – I look older – and I’m Head Boy!” “What?”<|speaker|>Ron Weasley | <|context|>“Let’s forget it and go back.” “No.’” Harry hissed. “I know it’s here somewhere.” They passed the ghost of a tall witch gliding in the opposite direction, but saw no one else. Just as Ron started moaning that his feet were dead with cold, Harry spotted the suit of armour. “It’s here – just here. – yes!” They pushed the door open. Ha rry dropped the Cloak from round his shoulders and ran to the mirror. There they were. His mother and father beamed at the sight of him. “See?” Harry whispered.<|quote|>“I can’t see anything.”</|quote|>“Look! Look at them all … there are loads of them …” “I can only see you.” “Look in it properly, go on, stand where I am.” Harry stepped aside, but with Ron in front of the mirror, he couldn’t see his family any more, just Ron in his paisley pyjamas. Ron, though, was staring transfixed at his image. “Look at me!” he said. “Can you see all your family standing around you?” “No – I’m alone – but I’m different – I look older – and I’m Head Boy!” “What?”<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>Quirrell rolled off him, his face b listering too, and then Harry knew: Quirrell couldn’t touch his bare skin, not without suffering terrible pain – his only chance was to keep hold of Quirrell, keep him in enough pain to stop him doing a curse. Harry jumped to his feet, caught Quirrell by the arm and hung on as tight as he could. Quirrell screamed and tried to throw Harry off – the pain in Harry’s head was building – he couldn’t see – he could only hear Quirrell’s terrible shrieks and Vo ldemort’s yells of “KILL HIM! KILL HIM!” and other voices, maybe in Harry’s own head, crying, “Harry! Harry!” He felt Quirrell’s arm wrenched fr om his grasp, knew all was lost, and fell into blackness, down … down … down … * Something gold was glinting just above him. The Snitch! He tried to catch it, but his arms were too heavy. He blinked. It wasn’t the Snitch at all. It was a pair of glasses. How strange. He blinked again. The smiling face of Albus Dumbledore swam into view above him.<|quote|>“Good afternoon, Harry”</|quote|>said Dumbledore. Harry stared at him. Then he reme mbered. “Sir! The Stone! It was Quirrell! He’s got the Stone! Sir, quick –” “Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind the times,” said Dumbledore. “Quirrell does not have the Stone.” “Then who does? Sir, I –” “Harry, please relax, or Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out.” Harry swallowed and looked around him. He realised he must be in the hospital wing. He was lying in a bed with white linen sheets and next to him was a table piled high with what looked like half the sweet-shop.<|speaker|>Albus Dumbledore<eos> | <bos><|context|>Quirrell rolled off him, his face b listering too, and then Harry knew: Quirrell couldn’t touch his bare skin, not without suffering terrible pain – his only chance was to keep hold of Quirrell, keep him in enough pain to stop him doing a curse. Harry jumped to his feet, caught Quirrell by the arm and hung on as tight as he could. Quirrell screamed and tried to throw Harry off – the pain in Harry’s head was building – he couldn’t see – he could only hear Quirrell’s terrible shrieks and Vo ldemort’s yells of “KILL HIM! KILL HIM!” and other voices, maybe in Harry’s own head, crying, “Harry! Harry!” He felt Quirrell’s arm wrenched fr om his grasp, knew all was lost, and fell into blackness, down … down … down … * Something gold was glinting just above him. The Snitch! He tried to catch it, but his arms were too heavy. He blinked. It wasn’t the Snitch at all. It was a pair of glasses. How strange. He blinked again. The smiling face of Albus Dumbledore swam into view above him.<|quote|>“Good afternoon, Harry”</|quote|>said Dumbledore. Harry stared at him. Then he reme mbered. “Sir! The Stone! It was Quirrell! He’s got the Stone! Sir, quick –” “Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind the times,” said Dumbledore. “Quirrell does not have the Stone.” “Then who does? Sir, I –” “Harry, please relax, or Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out.” Harry swallowed and looked around him. He realised he must be in the hospital wing. He was lying in a bed with white linen sheets and next to him was a table piled high with what looked like half the sweet-shop.<|speaker|> | Albus Dumbledore | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Quirrell rolled off him, his face b listering too, and then Harry knew: Quirrell couldn’t touch his bare skin, not without suffering terrible pain – his only chance was to keep hold of Quirrell, keep him in enough pain to stop him doing a curse. Harry jumped to his feet, caught Quirrell by the arm and hung on as tight as he could. Quirrell screamed and tried to throw Harry off – the pain in Harry’s head was building – he couldn’t see – he could only hear Quirrell’s terrible shrieks and Vo ldemort’s yells of “KILL HIM! KILL HIM!” and other voices, maybe in Harry’s own head, crying, “Harry! Harry!” He felt Quirrell’s arm wrenched fr om his grasp, knew all was lost, and fell into blackness, down … down … down … * Something gold was glinting just above him. The Snitch! He tried to catch it, but his arms were too heavy. He blinked. It wasn’t the Snitch at all. It was a pair of glasses. How strange. He blinked again. The smiling face of Albus Dumbledore swam into view above him.<|quote|>“Good afternoon, Harry”</|quote|>said Dumbledore. Harry stared at him. Then he reme mbered. “Sir! The Stone! It was Quirrell! He’s got the Stone! Sir, quick –” “Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind the times,” said Dumbledore. “Quirrell does not have the Stone.” “Then who does? Sir, I –” “Harry, please relax, or Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out.” Harry swallowed and looked around him. He realised he must be in the hospital wing. He was lying in a bed with white linen sheets and next to him was a table piled high with what looked like half the sweet-shop.<|speaker|>Albus Dumbledore<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>Quirrell rolled off him, his face b listering too, and then Harry knew: Quirrell couldn’t touch his bare skin, not without suffering terrible pain – his only chance was to keep hold of Quirrell, keep him in enough pain to stop him doing a curse. Harry jumped to his feet, caught Quirrell by the arm and hung on as tight as he could. Quirrell screamed and tried to throw Harry off – the pain in Harry’s head was building – he couldn’t see – he could only hear Quirrell’s terrible shrieks and Vo ldemort’s yells of “KILL HIM! KILL HIM!” and other voices, maybe in Harry’s own head, crying, “Harry! Harry!” He felt Quirrell’s arm wrenched fr om his grasp, knew all was lost, and fell into blackness, down … down … down … * Something gold was glinting just above him. The Snitch! He tried to catch it, but his arms were too heavy. He blinked. It wasn’t the Snitch at all. It was a pair of glasses. How strange. He blinked again. The smiling face of Albus Dumbledore swam into view above him.<|quote|>“Good afternoon, Harry”</|quote|>said Dumbledore. Harry stared at him. Then he reme mbered. “Sir! The Stone! It was Quirrell! He’s got the Stone! Sir, quick –” “Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind the times,” said Dumbledore. “Quirrell does not have the Stone.” “Then who does? Sir, I –” “Harry, please relax, or Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out.” Harry swallowed and looked around him. He realised he must be in the hospital wing. He was lying in a bed with white linen sheets and next to him was a table piled high with what looked like half the sweet-shop.<|speaker|> | <|context|>Quirrell rolled off him, his face b listering too, and then Harry knew: Quirrell couldn’t touch his bare skin, not without suffering terrible pain – his only chance was to keep hold of Quirrell, keep him in enough pain to stop him doing a curse. Harry jumped to his feet, caught Quirrell by the arm and hung on as tight as he could. Quirrell screamed and tried to throw Harry off – the pain in Harry’s head was building – he couldn’t see – he could only hear Quirrell’s terrible shrieks and Vo ldemort’s yells of “KILL HIM! KILL HIM!” and other voices, maybe in Harry’s own head, crying, “Harry! Harry!” He felt Quirrell’s arm wrenched fr om his grasp, knew all was lost, and fell into blackness, down … down … down … * Something gold was glinting just above him. The Snitch! He tried to catch it, but his arms were too heavy. He blinked. It wasn’t the Snitch at all. It was a pair of glasses. How strange. He blinked again. The smiling face of Albus Dumbledore swam into view above him.<|quote|>“Good afternoon, Harry”</|quote|>said Dumbledore. Harry stared at him. Then he reme mbered. “Sir! The Stone! It was Quirrell! He’s got the Stone! Sir, quick –” “Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind the times,” said Dumbledore. “Quirrell does not have the Stone.” “Then who does? Sir, I –” “Harry, please relax, or Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out.” Harry swallowed and looked around him. He realised he must be in the hospital wing. He was lying in a bed with white linen sheets and next to him was a table piled high with what looked like half the sweet-shop.<|speaker|>Albus Dumbledore | <|context|>Quirrell rolled off him, his face b listering too, and then Harry knew: Quirrell couldn’t touch his bare skin, not without suffering terrible pain – his only chance was to keep hold of Quirrell, keep him in enough pain to stop him doing a curse. Harry jumped to his feet, caught Quirrell by the arm and hung on as tight as he could. Quirrell screamed and tried to throw Harry off – the pain in Harry’s head was building – he couldn’t see – he could only hear Quirrell’s terrible shrieks and Vo ldemort’s yells of “KILL HIM! KILL HIM!” and other voices, maybe in Harry’s own head, crying, “Harry! Harry!” He felt Quirrell’s arm wrenched fr om his grasp, knew all was lost, and fell into blackness, down … down … down … * Something gold was glinting just above him. The Snitch! He tried to catch it, but his arms were too heavy. He blinked. It wasn’t the Snitch at all. It was a pair of glasses. How strange. He blinked again. The smiling face of Albus Dumbledore swam into view above him.<|quote|>“Good afternoon, Harry”</|quote|>said Dumbledore. Harry stared at him. Then he reme mbered. “Sir! The Stone! It was Quirrell! He’s got the Stone! Sir, quick –” “Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind the times,” said Dumbledore. “Quirrell does not have the Stone.” “Then who does? Sir, I –” “Harry, please relax, or Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out.” Harry swallowed and looked around him. He realised he must be in the hospital wing. He was lying in a bed with white linen sheets and next to him was a table piled high with what looked like half the sweet-shop.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>she said. “First time at Hogwarts? Ron’s new, too.” She pointed at the last and youngest of her sons. He was tall, thin and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet and a long nose. “Yes,” said Harry. “The thing is – the thing is, I don’t know how to–” “How to get on to the platfo rm?” she said kindly, and Harry nodded. “Not to worry,” she said. “All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don’t stop and don’t be scared you’ll crash into it, that’s very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you’re nervous. Go on, go now before Ron.” “Er – OK,”<|quote|>said Harry. He pushed his trolley round and st ared at the barrier. It looked very solid. He started to walk towards it. People jostled him on their way to platforms nine and ten. Harry walked more quickly. He was going to smash right into that ticket box and then he’d be in trouble – leaning forward on his trolley he broke into a heavy run – the barrier was coming nearer and nearer – he wouldn’t be able to stop – the trolley was out of control – he was a foot away – he closed his eyes ready for the crash – It didn’t come … he kept on running … he opened his eyes. A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, 11 o’clock . Harry looked behind him and saw a wrough t-iron archway where the ticket box had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it. He had done it. Smoke from the engine drifted ov er the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every colour wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to each other in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks. The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Harry pushed his trolley off do wn the platform in search of an empty seat. He passed a round-faced boy who was saying,</|quote|>“Gran, I’ve lost my toad again.” “Oh, Neville,” he heard the old woman sigh. A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd. “Give us a look, Lee, go on.” The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg. Harry pressed on through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the trai n. He put Hedwig inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk towards the train door. He tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice he dropped it painfully on his foot.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><eos> | <bos><|context|>she said. “First time at Hogwarts? Ron’s new, too.” She pointed at the last and youngest of her sons. He was tall, thin and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet and a long nose. “Yes,” said Harry. “The thing is – the thing is, I don’t know how to–” “How to get on to the platfo rm?” she said kindly, and Harry nodded. “Not to worry,” she said. “All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don’t stop and don’t be scared you’ll crash into it, that’s very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you’re nervous. Go on, go now before Ron.” “Er – OK,”<|quote|>said Harry. He pushed his trolley round and st ared at the barrier. It looked very solid. He started to walk towards it. People jostled him on their way to platforms nine and ten. Harry walked more quickly. He was going to smash right into that ticket box and then he’d be in trouble – leaning forward on his trolley he broke into a heavy run – the barrier was coming nearer and nearer – he wouldn’t be able to stop – the trolley was out of control – he was a foot away – he closed his eyes ready for the crash – It didn’t come … he kept on running … he opened his eyes. A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, 11 o’clock . Harry looked behind him and saw a wrough t-iron archway where the ticket box had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it. He had done it. Smoke from the engine drifted ov er the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every colour wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to each other in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks. The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Harry pushed his trolley off do wn the platform in search of an empty seat. He passed a round-faced boy who was saying,</|quote|>“Gran, I’ve lost my toad again.” “Oh, Neville,” he heard the old woman sigh. A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd. “Give us a look, Lee, go on.” The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg. Harry pressed on through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the trai n. He put Hedwig inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk towards the train door. He tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice he dropped it painfully on his foot.<|speaker|> | <|No speaker|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>she said. “First time at Hogwarts? Ron’s new, too.” She pointed at the last and youngest of her sons. He was tall, thin and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet and a long nose. “Yes,” said Harry. “The thing is – the thing is, I don’t know how to–” “How to get on to the platfo rm?” she said kindly, and Harry nodded. “Not to worry,” she said. “All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don’t stop and don’t be scared you’ll crash into it, that’s very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you’re nervous. Go on, go now before Ron.” “Er – OK,”<|quote|>said Harry. He pushed his trolley round and st ared at the barrier. It looked very solid. He started to walk towards it. People jostled him on their way to platforms nine and ten. Harry walked more quickly. He was going to smash right into that ticket box and then he’d be in trouble – leaning forward on his trolley he broke into a heavy run – the barrier was coming nearer and nearer – he wouldn’t be able to stop – the trolley was out of control – he was a foot away – he closed his eyes ready for the crash – It didn’t come … he kept on running … he opened his eyes. A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, 11 o’clock . Harry looked behind him and saw a wrough t-iron archway where the ticket box had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it. He had done it. Smoke from the engine drifted ov er the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every colour wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to each other in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks. The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Harry pushed his trolley off do wn the platform in search of an empty seat. He passed a round-faced boy who was saying,</|quote|>“Gran, I’ve lost my toad again.” “Oh, Neville,” he heard the old woman sigh. A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd. “Give us a look, Lee, go on.” The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg. Harry pressed on through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the trai n. He put Hedwig inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk towards the train door. He tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice he dropped it painfully on his foot.<|speaker|><|No speaker|><|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>she said. “First time at Hogwarts? Ron’s new, too.” She pointed at the last and youngest of her sons. He was tall, thin and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet and a long nose. “Yes,” said Harry. “The thing is – the thing is, I don’t know how to–” “How to get on to the platfo rm?” she said kindly, and Harry nodded. “Not to worry,” she said. “All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don’t stop and don’t be scared you’ll crash into it, that’s very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you’re nervous. Go on, go now before Ron.” “Er – OK,”<|quote|>said Harry. He pushed his trolley round and st ared at the barrier. It looked very solid. He started to walk towards it. People jostled him on their way to platforms nine and ten. Harry walked more quickly. He was going to smash right into that ticket box and then he’d be in trouble – leaning forward on his trolley he broke into a heavy run – the barrier was coming nearer and nearer – he wouldn’t be able to stop – the trolley was out of control – he was a foot away – he closed his eyes ready for the crash – It didn’t come … he kept on running … he opened his eyes. A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, 11 o’clock . Harry looked behind him and saw a wrough t-iron archway where the ticket box had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it. He had done it. Smoke from the engine drifted ov er the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every colour wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to each other in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks. The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Harry pushed his trolley off do wn the platform in search of an empty seat. He passed a round-faced boy who was saying,</|quote|>“Gran, I’ve lost my toad again.” “Oh, Neville,” he heard the old woman sigh. A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd. “Give us a look, Lee, go on.” The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg. Harry pressed on through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the trai n. He put Hedwig inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk towards the train door. He tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice he dropped it painfully on his foot.<|speaker|> | <|context|>she said. “First time at Hogwarts? Ron’s new, too.” She pointed at the last and youngest of her sons. He was tall, thin and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet and a long nose. “Yes,” said Harry. “The thing is – the thing is, I don’t know how to–” “How to get on to the platfo rm?” she said kindly, and Harry nodded. “Not to worry,” she said. “All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don’t stop and don’t be scared you’ll crash into it, that’s very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you’re nervous. Go on, go now before Ron.” “Er – OK,”<|quote|>said Harry. He pushed his trolley round and st ared at the barrier. It looked very solid. He started to walk towards it. People jostled him on their way to platforms nine and ten. Harry walked more quickly. He was going to smash right into that ticket box and then he’d be in trouble – leaning forward on his trolley he broke into a heavy run – the barrier was coming nearer and nearer – he wouldn’t be able to stop – the trolley was out of control – he was a foot away – he closed his eyes ready for the crash – It didn’t come … he kept on running … he opened his eyes. A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, 11 o’clock . Harry looked behind him and saw a wrough t-iron archway where the ticket box had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it. He had done it. Smoke from the engine drifted ov er the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every colour wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to each other in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks. The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Harry pushed his trolley off do wn the platform in search of an empty seat. He passed a round-faced boy who was saying,</|quote|>“Gran, I’ve lost my toad again.” “Oh, Neville,” he heard the old woman sigh. A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd. “Give us a look, Lee, go on.” The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg. Harry pressed on through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the trai n. He put Hedwig inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk towards the train door. He tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice he dropped it painfully on his foot.<|speaker|><|No speaker|> | <|context|>she said. “First time at Hogwarts? Ron’s new, too.” She pointed at the last and youngest of her sons. He was tall, thin and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet and a long nose. “Yes,” said Harry. “The thing is – the thing is, I don’t know how to–” “How to get on to the platfo rm?” she said kindly, and Harry nodded. “Not to worry,” she said. “All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don’t stop and don’t be scared you’ll crash into it, that’s very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you’re nervous. Go on, go now before Ron.” “Er – OK,”<|quote|>said Harry. He pushed his trolley round and st ared at the barrier. It looked very solid. He started to walk towards it. People jostled him on their way to platforms nine and ten. Harry walked more quickly. He was going to smash right into that ticket box and then he’d be in trouble – leaning forward on his trolley he broke into a heavy run – the barrier was coming nearer and nearer – he wouldn’t be able to stop – the trolley was out of control – he was a foot away – he closed his eyes ready for the crash – It didn’t come … he kept on running … he opened his eyes. A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, 11 o’clock . Harry looked behind him and saw a wrough t-iron archway where the ticket box had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it. He had done it. Smoke from the engine drifted ov er the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every colour wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to each other in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks. The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Harry pushed his trolley off do wn the platform in search of an empty seat. He passed a round-faced boy who was saying,</|quote|>“Gran, I’ve lost my toad again.” “Oh, Neville,” he heard the old woman sigh. A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd. “Give us a look, Lee, go on.” The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg. Harry pressed on through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the trai n. He put Hedwig inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk towards the train door. He tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice he dropped it painfully on his foot.<|speaker|> |
<bos><|context|>The centaur didn’t answer. He had astonishingly blue eyes, like pale sapphires. He looked carefully at Harry, his eyes lingering on the scar which stood out, livid, on Harry’s forehead. “You are the Potter boy,” he said. “You had better get back to Hagrid. The Forest is not safe at this time – especially for you. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way. “My name is Firenze,” he added, as he lowered himself on to his front legs so that Harry could clamber on to his back. There was suddenly a sound of more galloping from the other side of the clearing. Ronan and Bane came bursting through the trees, their flanks heaving and sweaty.<|quote|>“Firenze!”</|quote|>Bane thundered. “What are you doing? You have a human on your back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?” “Do you realise who this is?” said Firenze. “This is the Potter boy. The quicker he leaves this Forest, the better.” “What have you been telling him?” growled Bane. “Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?” Ronan pawed the ground nervously.<|speaker|>Bane<eos> | <bos><|context|>The centaur didn’t answer. He had astonishingly blue eyes, like pale sapphires. He looked carefully at Harry, his eyes lingering on the scar which stood out, livid, on Harry’s forehead. “You are the Potter boy,” he said. “You had better get back to Hagrid. The Forest is not safe at this time – especially for you. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way. “My name is Firenze,” he added, as he lowered himself on to his front legs so that Harry could clamber on to his back. There was suddenly a sound of more galloping from the other side of the clearing. Ronan and Bane came bursting through the trees, their flanks heaving and sweaty.<|quote|>“Firenze!”</|quote|>Bane thundered. “What are you doing? You have a human on your back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?” “Do you realise who this is?” said Firenze. “This is the Potter boy. The quicker he leaves this Forest, the better.” “What have you been telling him?” growled Bane. “Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?” Ronan pawed the ground nervously.<|speaker|> | Bane | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>The centaur didn’t answer. He had astonishingly blue eyes, like pale sapphires. He looked carefully at Harry, his eyes lingering on the scar which stood out, livid, on Harry’s forehead. “You are the Potter boy,” he said. “You had better get back to Hagrid. The Forest is not safe at this time – especially for you. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way. “My name is Firenze,” he added, as he lowered himself on to his front legs so that Harry could clamber on to his back. There was suddenly a sound of more galloping from the other side of the clearing. Ronan and Bane came bursting through the trees, their flanks heaving and sweaty.<|quote|>“Firenze!”</|quote|>Bane thundered. “What are you doing? You have a human on your back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?” “Do you realise who this is?” said Firenze. “This is the Potter boy. The quicker he leaves this Forest, the better.” “What have you been telling him?” growled Bane. “Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?” Ronan pawed the ground nervously.<|speaker|>Bane<|end_of_text|> | <|begin_of_text|><|context|>The centaur didn’t answer. He had astonishingly blue eyes, like pale sapphires. He looked carefully at Harry, his eyes lingering on the scar which stood out, livid, on Harry’s forehead. “You are the Potter boy,” he said. “You had better get back to Hagrid. The Forest is not safe at this time – especially for you. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way. “My name is Firenze,” he added, as he lowered himself on to his front legs so that Harry could clamber on to his back. There was suddenly a sound of more galloping from the other side of the clearing. Ronan and Bane came bursting through the trees, their flanks heaving and sweaty.<|quote|>“Firenze!”</|quote|>Bane thundered. “What are you doing? You have a human on your back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?” “Do you realise who this is?” said Firenze. “This is the Potter boy. The quicker he leaves this Forest, the better.” “What have you been telling him?” growled Bane. “Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?” Ronan pawed the ground nervously.<|speaker|> | <|context|>The centaur didn’t answer. He had astonishingly blue eyes, like pale sapphires. He looked carefully at Harry, his eyes lingering on the scar which stood out, livid, on Harry’s forehead. “You are the Potter boy,” he said. “You had better get back to Hagrid. The Forest is not safe at this time – especially for you. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way. “My name is Firenze,” he added, as he lowered himself on to his front legs so that Harry could clamber on to his back. There was suddenly a sound of more galloping from the other side of the clearing. Ronan and Bane came bursting through the trees, their flanks heaving and sweaty.<|quote|>“Firenze!”</|quote|>Bane thundered. “What are you doing? You have a human on your back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?” “Do you realise who this is?” said Firenze. “This is the Potter boy. The quicker he leaves this Forest, the better.” “What have you been telling him?” growled Bane. “Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?” Ronan pawed the ground nervously.<|speaker|>Bane | <|context|>The centaur didn’t answer. He had astonishingly blue eyes, like pale sapphires. He looked carefully at Harry, his eyes lingering on the scar which stood out, livid, on Harry’s forehead. “You are the Potter boy,” he said. “You had better get back to Hagrid. The Forest is not safe at this time – especially for you. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way. “My name is Firenze,” he added, as he lowered himself on to his front legs so that Harry could clamber on to his back. There was suddenly a sound of more galloping from the other side of the clearing. Ronan and Bane came bursting through the trees, their flanks heaving and sweaty.<|quote|>“Firenze!”</|quote|>Bane thundered. “What are you doing? You have a human on your back! Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?” “Do you realise who this is?” said Firenze. “This is the Potter boy. The quicker he leaves this Forest, the better.” “What have you been telling him?” growled Bane. “Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?” Ronan pawed the ground nervously.<|speaker|> |
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