Samee-ur/hp_example_data_new · Datasets at Hugging Face

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"This is where I leave you," Firenze 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 centaurs. 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 about Quidditch fouls when Harry roughly
shook him awake. In a matter 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.
"Snape wants the stone for Voldemort... and Voldemort's waiting in the
forest... and all this time we thought Snape just wanted to get
rich...."
"Stop saying the name!" said Ron in a terrified whisper, as if he
thought Voldemort could hear them.
Harry wasn't listening.
"Firenze saved me, but he shouldn't have done so.... Bane was furious...
he was talking about interfering with what the planets say is going to
happen.... They must show that Voldemort's coming back.... Bane thinks
Firenze should have let Voldemort kill me.... I suppose that's written
in the stars as well."
"Will you stop saying the name!" Ron hissed.
"So all I've got to wait for now is Snape to steal the Stone," Harry
went on feverishly, "then Voldemort will be able to come and finish me
off... Well, I suppose Bane'll be happy."
Hermione looked very frightened, but she had a word of comfort.
"Harry, everyone says Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was ever
afraid of With Dumbledore around, You-Know-Who won't touch you. Anyway,
who says the centaurs are right? It sounds like fortune-telling to me,
and Professor McGonagall says that's a very imprecise branch of magic."
The sky had turned light before they stopped talking. They went to bed
exhausted, their throats sore. But the night's surprises weren't over.
When Harry pulled back his sheets, he found his invisibility cloak
folded neatly underneath them. There was a note pinned to it:
Just in case.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
THROUGH THE TRAPDOOR
In years to come, Harry would never quite remember how he had managed to
get through his exams when he half expected Voldemort to come bursting
through the door at any moment. Yet the days crept by, and there could
be no doubt that Fluffy was still alive and well behind the locked door.
It was sweltering hot, especially in the large classroom where they did
their written papers. They had been given special, new quills for the
exams, which had been bewitched with an AntiCheating spell.
They had practical exams as well. Professor Flitwick called them one by
one into his class to see if they could make a pineapple tapdance across
a desk. Professor McGonagall watched them turn a mouse into a snuffbox
-- points were given for how pretty the snuffbox was, but taken away if
it had whiskers. Snape made them all nervous, breathing down their necks
while they tried to remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion.
Harry did the best he could, trying to ignore the stabbing pains in his
forehead, which had been bothering him ever since his trip into the
forest. Neville thought Harry had a bad case of exam nerves because
Harry couldn't sleep, but the truth was that Harry kept being woken by
his old nightmare, except that it was now worse than ever because there
was a hooded figure dripping blood in it.
Maybe it was because they hadn't seen what Harry had seen in the forest,
or because they didn't have scars burning on their foreheads, but Ron
and Hermione didn't seem as worried about the Stone as Harry. The idea
of Voldemort certainly scared them, but he didn't keep visiting them in
dreams, and they were so busy with their studying they didn't have much
time to fret about what Snape or anyone else might be up to.
Their very last exam was History of Magic. One hour of answering
questions about batty old wizards who'd invented selfstirring cauldrons
and they'd be free, free for a whole wonderful week until their exam
results came out. When the ghost of Professor Binns told them to put
down their quills and roll up their parchment, Harry couldn't help
cheering with the rest.
"That was far easier than I thought it would be," said Hermione as they
joined the crowds flocking out onto the sunny grounds. "I needn't have
learned about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of
Elfric the Eager."
Hermione always liked to go through their exam papers afterward, but Ron
said this made him feel ill, so they wandered down to the lake and
flopped under a tree. The Weasley twins and Lee Jordan were tickling the
tentacles of a giant squid, which was basking in the warm shallows. "No
more studying," Ron sighed happily, stretching out on the grass. "You
could look more cheerful, Harry, we've got a week before we find out how
badly we've done, there's no need to worry yet."
Harry was rubbing his forehead.
"I wish I knew what this means!" he burst out angrily. "My scar keeps
hurting -- it's happened before, but never as often as this."
"Go to Madam Pomfrey," Hermione suggested.
"I'm not ill," said Harry. "I think it's a warning... it means danger's
coming...."
Ron couldn't get worked up, it was too hot.
"Harry, relax, Hermione's right, the Stone's safe as long as
Dumbledore's around. Anyway, we've never had any proof Snape found out
how to get past Fluffy. He nearly had his leg ripped off once, he's not
going to try it again in a hurry. And Neville will play Quidditch for
England before Hagrid lets Dumbledore down."
Harry nodded, but he couldn't shake off a lurking feeling that there was
something he'd forgotten to do, something important. When he tried to
explain this, Hermione said, "That's just the exams. I woke up last
night and was halfway through my Transfiguration notes before I
remembered we'd done that one."

"This is where I leave you," Firenze 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 centaurs. 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 about Quidditch fouls when Harry roughly

shook him awake. In a matter 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.

"Snape wants the stone for Voldemort... and Voldemort's waiting in the

forest... and all this time we thought Snape just wanted to get

rich...."

"Stop saying the name!" said Ron in a terrified whisper, as if he

thought Voldemort could hear them.

Harry wasn't listening.

"Firenze saved me, but he shouldn't have done so.... Bane was furious...

he was talking about interfering with what the planets say is going to

happen.... They must show that Voldemort's coming back.... Bane thinks

Firenze should have let Voldemort kill me.... I suppose that's written

in the stars as well."

"Will you stop saying the name!" Ron hissed.

"So all I've got to wait for now is Snape to steal the Stone," Harry

went on feverishly, "then Voldemort will be able to come and finish me

off... Well, I suppose Bane'll be happy."

Hermione looked very frightened, but she had a word of comfort.

"Harry, everyone says Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was ever

afraid of With Dumbledore around, You-Know-Who won't touch you. Anyway,

who says the centaurs are right? It sounds like fortune-telling to me,

and Professor McGonagall says that's a very imprecise branch of magic."

The sky had turned light before they stopped talking. They went to bed

exhausted, their throats sore. But the night's surprises weren't over.

When Harry pulled back his sheets, he found his invisibility cloak

folded neatly underneath them. There was a note pinned to it:

Just in case.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

THROUGH THE TRAPDOOR

In years to come, Harry would never quite remember how he had managed to

get through his exams when he half expected Voldemort to come bursting

through the door at any moment. Yet the days crept by, and there could

be no doubt that Fluffy was still alive and well behind the locked door.

It was sweltering hot, especially in the large classroom where they did

their written papers. They had been given special, new quills for the

exams, which had been bewitched with an AntiCheating spell.

They had practical exams as well. Professor Flitwick called them one by

one into his class to see if they could make a pineapple tapdance across

a desk. Professor McGonagall watched them turn a mouse into a snuffbox

-- points were given for how pretty the snuffbox was, but taken away if

it had whiskers. Snape made them all nervous, breathing down their necks

while they tried to remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion.

Harry did the best he could, trying to ignore the stabbing pains in his

forehead, which had been bothering him ever since his trip into the

forest. Neville thought Harry had a bad case of exam nerves because

Harry couldn't sleep, but the truth was that Harry kept being woken by

his old nightmare, except that it was now worse than ever because there

was a hooded figure dripping blood in it.

Maybe it was because they hadn't seen what Harry had seen in the forest,

or because they didn't have scars burning on their foreheads, but Ron

and Hermione didn't seem as worried about the Stone as Harry. The idea

of Voldemort certainly scared them, but he didn't keep visiting them in

dreams, and they were so busy with their studying they didn't have much

time to fret about what Snape or anyone else might be up to.

Their very last exam was History of Magic. One hour of answering

questions about batty old wizards who'd invented selfstirring cauldrons

and they'd be free, free for a whole wonderful week until their exam

results came out. When the ghost of Professor Binns told them to put

down their quills and roll up their parchment, Harry couldn't help

cheering with the rest.

"That was far easier than I thought it would be," said Hermione as they

joined the crowds flocking out onto the sunny grounds. "I needn't have

learned about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of

Elfric the Eager."

Hermione always liked to go through their exam papers afterward, but Ron

said this made him feel ill, so they wandered down to the lake and

flopped under a tree. The Weasley twins and Lee Jordan were tickling the

tentacles of a giant squid, which was basking in the warm shallows. "No

more studying," Ron sighed happily, stretching out on the grass. "You

could look more cheerful, Harry, we've got a week before we find out how

badly we've done, there's no need to worry yet."

Harry was rubbing his forehead.

"I wish I knew what this means!" he burst out angrily. "My scar keeps

hurting -- it's happened before, but never as often as this."

"Go to Madam Pomfrey," Hermione suggested.

"I'm not ill," said Harry. "I think it's a warning... it means danger's

coming...."

Ron couldn't get worked up, it was too hot.

"Harry, relax, Hermione's right, the Stone's safe as long as

Dumbledore's around. Anyway, we've never had any proof Snape found out

how to get past Fluffy. He nearly had his leg ripped off once, he's not

going to try it again in a hurry. And Neville will play Quidditch for

England before Hagrid lets Dumbledore down."

Harry nodded, but he couldn't shake off a lurking feeling that there was

something he'd forgotten to do, something important. When he tried to

explain this, Hermione said, "That's just the exams. I woke up last

night and was halfway through my Transfiguration notes before I

remembered we'd done that one."