Good evening, Professor Dumbledore.
Are the rumors true, Albus?
I'm afraid so, professor.|The good and the bad.
Professor Dumbledore, sir.|Professor McGonagall.
- No problems, I trust, Hagrid?|- No, sir.
Little tyke fell asleep|as we were flying over Bristol.
Try not to wake him.
There you go.
Until he's ready.
Up. Get up!
Wake up, cousin!|We're going to the zoo!
Cook breakfast.|And try not to burn anything.
- Yes, Aunt Petunia.|- I want everything to be perfect...
...for my Dudley's special day!
Aren't they wonderful, darling?
- How many are there?|- 36. Counted them myself.
36?! But last year I had 37!
- But some are bigger than last year's.|- I don't care!
This is what we're going to do.
We're going to buy you two|new presents. How's that, pumpkin?
I'm warning you now, boy.
Any funny business, any at all...
...and you won't have|any meals for a week.
Make it move.
- Move!|- He's asleep!
Sorry about him.
He doesn't understand|what it's like, lying there...
Can you hear me?
Do you talk to people often?
You're from Burma, aren't you?|Was it nice there?
Do you miss your family?
Mummy, Dad, you won't believe|what this snake is doing!
Mum! Mummy! Help me!
My darling boy!|How did you get in there?
Who did this? How did you get|in there? Is there a snake?
It's all right, sweetheart.|We'll get you out of these cold clothes.
- What happened?|- I swear, I don't know!
The glass was there|and then it was gone, like magic.
There's no such thing as magic.
Marge is ill. Ate a funny whelk.
- Dad, look! Harry's got a letter!|- It's mine!
Yours? Who'd be writing to you?
No more mail through this letterbox.
Have a lovely day at the office, dear.
Shoo! Go on.
Fine day, Sunday.
In my opinion, best day of the week.|Why is that, Dudley?
No post on Sunday.
No, sir, not one blasted, miserable...
Make it stop, please!
Mummy, what's happening?
Give me that! Give me that letter!
They're my letters! Let go of me!
That's it! We're going away!
Far away, where they can't find us!
Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?
Make a wish, Harry.
Sorry about that.
Dry up, Dursley, you great prune.
I haven't seen you|since you was a baby, Harry.
You're a bit more along than I expected.|Particularly in the middle.
I'm not Harry.
- I am.|- Well, of course you are.
Got something for you.
Translate and read this script in other languages:
Select another language:
- - Select -
- 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
- 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
- Español (Spanish)
- Esperanto (Esperanto)
- 日本語 (Japanese)
- Português (Portuguese)
- Deutsch (German)
- العربية (Arabic)
- Français (French)
- Русский (Russian)
- ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
- 한국어 (Korean)
- עברית (Hebrew)
- Український (Ukrainian)
- اردو (Urdu)
- Magyar (Hungarian)
- मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
- Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Italiano (Italian)
- தமிழ் (Tamil)
- Türkçe (Turkish)
- తెలుగు (Telugu)
- ภาษาไทย (Thai)
- Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
- Čeština (Czech)
- Polski (Polish)
- Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Românește (Romanian)
- Nederlands (Dutch)
- Ελληνικά (Greek)
- Latinum (Latin)
- Svenska (Swedish)
- Dansk (Danish)
- Suomi (Finnish)
- فارسی (Persian)
- ייִדיש (Yiddish)
- հայերեն (Armenian)
- Norsk (Norwegian)
- English (English)
Discuss this Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone script with the community:
Use the citation below to add this screenplay to your bibliography:
"Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2019. Web. 23 Oct. 2019. <https://www.scripts.com/script/harry_potter_and_the_sorcerer%27s_stone_9661>.