Mr and Mrs =Dursley, of number four, =Privet Drive, were proud
to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.
They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything
strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.

Mr =Dursley was the director of a firm call =Grunnings, which made
drills.  He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although
he did have a very large mustache.  Mrs =Dursley was thin and blonde
and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful
as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on
neighbors.  The =Dursleys had a small son named =Dudley and in their opinion
there was no finer boy anywhere.



The escape of the =Brazilian boa constrictor earned Harry his longest-ever
punishment. By the time he was allowed out of his cupboard again, the summer
holidays had started and =Dudley had already broken his new video camera,
crashed his remote control airplane , and, first time out on his racing bike,
knocked down old Mrs =Figg as she crossed =Privet Drive on her crutches.

=Harry was glad school was over, but there was no escaping =Dudley's gang, who
visited the house every single day.  =Piers, =Dennis, =Malcolm and =Gordon were all
big and stupid, but as =Dudley was the biggest and stupidest of the lot, he was
the leader.  The rest of them were all quite happy to join in =Dudley's favorite
sport: =Harry Hunting.




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 dreamt 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 =AuntPetunia knocking on the door, =Harry thought, his heart sinking.  But
he didn't open his eyes. It had been such a good dream.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"All right," =Harry mumbled, "I'm getting up."





The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there.
She had a very stern face and =Harry's first thought was that this was not someone to cross.
"The first years, Professor =McGonagall," said =Hagrid.
"Thank-you, =Hagrid. I will take them from here."
She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of
the =Dursley's house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones
at =Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase
facing them led to the upper floors.





=Harry had never believed he would meet a boy he hated more than =Dudley, but that was before
he met =DracoMalfoy. Still, first-year =Gryffindors only had potions with the =Slytherins, so they
didn't have to put up with =Malfoy much. Or at least, they didn't until they spotted a notice
pinned up in the =Gryffindor common room that made them all groan. Flying lessons would be
starting on Thursday -- and =Gryffindor and =Slytherin would be learning together.
"Typical," said =Harry darkly. "Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick
in front of =Malfoy."
He had been looking forward to learning to fly more than anything else.




As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountain around the school became icy
gray and the lake like chilled steel.  Every morning the ground was covered in frost. =Hagrid could
be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the =Quidditch field, bundled up in a
long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaverskin boots.
The =Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, =Harry would be playing in his first match after weeks
of training: =Gryffindor versus =Slytherin. If =Gryffindor won, they would move up into second
place in the house championship.




=Dumbledor had convinced =Harry not to go looking for the =MirrorOfErised again, and for the rest
of the Christmas holidays the invisibility cloak stayed folded at the bottom of his trunk.  =Harry
wished he could forget what he'd seen in the mirror as easily, but he couldn't.  He started having
nightmares. Over and over again, he dreamed about his parents disappearing in a flash of green light,
while a high voice cackled with laughter.
"You see, =Dumbledor was right, that mirror could drive you mad," said =Ron, when =Harry told him about
these dreams.
=Herminone, who came back the day before term started, took a different view of things.
She was torn between horror at the idea of =Harry being out of bed, roaming the school three nights
in a row ("If =Filch had caught you!"), and disappointment that he hadn't at least found out
who =NicolasFlamel was.




Things couldn't have been worse.
=Filch took them down to Professor =McGonagall's study on the first floor, where they sat and waited without
saying a word to each other. =Herminone was trembling. Excuses, alibis, and wild cover-up stories chased each
other around =Harry's brain, each more feeble than the last. He couldn't see how they were going to get out
of trouble this time. There were cornered. How could they have been so stupid as to forget the cloak? There
was no reason on earth that Professor =McGonagall would accept for their being out of bed and creeping around
the school in the dead of night, let alone being up the tallest astronomy tower, which was out-of-bounds except
for classes. Add =Norbert and the invisibility cloak, and they might as well be packing their bags already.





It was =Quirrell.
"You," gasped Harry!
=Quirrel smiled. His face wasn't twitching at all.
"Me," he said calmly. "I wondered whether I'd be meeting you here, =Potter."
"But, I thought -- =Snape --."
"=Severus?" =Quirrel laughed, and it wasn't his usual quivering treble, either, but cold and sharp.
"Yes, =Severus does seem the type, doesn't he? So useful to have him swooping around like an
overgrown bat. Next to him, who would suspect poor stuttering Professor =Quirrell?"