Harry Potter 01 - Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone

Voldemort said that he only killed my mother because she tried to stop him killing me. But why would he want to kill me in the first place?’
    Dumbledore sighed very deeply this time.
    ‘Alas, the first thing you ask me, I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now. You will know, one day … put it from your mind for now, Harry. When you are older … I know you hate to hear this … when you are ready, you will know.’
    And Harry knew it would be no good to argue.
    ‘But why couldn’t Quirrell touch me?’
    ‘Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn’t realise that love as powerful as your mother’s for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign … to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection for ever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good.’
    Dumbledore now became very interested in a bird out on the window-sill, which gave Harry time to dry his eyes on the sheet. When he had found his voice again, Harry said, ‘And the Invisibility Cloak – do you know who sent it to me?’
    ‘Ah – your father happened to leave it in my possession and I thought you might like it.’ Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. ‘Useful things … your father used it mainly for sneaking off to the kitchens to steal food when he was here.’
    ‘And there’s something else …’
    ‘Fire away.’
    ‘Quirrell said Snape –’
    ‘Professor Snape, Harry.’
    ‘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 …’
    Harry tried to understand this but it made his head pound, so he stopped.
    ‘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 Bott’s Every-Flavour Beans! 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?’
    He smiled and popped the golden-brown bean into his mouth. Then he choked and said, ‘Alas! Earwax!’
    *
    Madam Pomfrey, the matron, was a nice woman, but very strict.
    ‘Just five minutes,’ Harry pleaded.
    ‘Absolutely not.’
    ‘You let Professor Dumbledore in …’
    ‘Well, of course, that was the Headmaster, quite different. You need rest .’
    ‘I am resting, look, lying down and everything. Oh, go on, Madam Pomfrey …’
    ‘Oh, very well,’ she said. ‘But five minutes only. ’
    And she let Ron and Hermione in.
    ‘Harry!’
    Hermione looked ready to fling her arms around him again, but Harry was glad she held herself in as his head was still very sore.
    ‘Oh, Harry, we were sure you were going to – Dumbledore was so worried –’
    ‘The whole school’s talking about it,’ said Ron. ‘What really happened?’
    It was one of those rare occasions when the true story is even more strange and exciting than the wild rumours. Harry told them everything: Quirrell; the Mirror; the Stone and Voldemort. Ron and Hermione were a very good audience; they gasped in all the right places and, when Harry told them what was under Quirrell’s turban, Hermione screamed out loud.
    ‘So the Stone’s gone?’ said Ron finally. ‘Flamel’s just going to die? ’
    ‘That’s what I said, but Dumbledore thinks that –