Hagrid:
You all right there, Harry? You seem very quiet.
Harry:
He killed my parents, didn't he?
[puts a hand to his scar]
Harry:
The one who gave me this?
[Hagrid is silent]
Harry:
You know, Hagrid. I know you do.
[Hagrid sighs and pushes his bowl aside]
Hagrid:
First - and understand this, Harry, 'cause it's very important - not all wizards are good. Some of them go bad. A few years ago there was one wizard that went as bad as you can go, and his name was V-
[sighs]
Hagrid:
his name was V...
Harry:
Maybe if you wrote it down...
Hagrid:
Nah, I can't spell it. Alright
[whispers]
Hagrid:
'Voldemort'
Harry:
[loudly]
Voldemort?
Hagrid:
Shhh! It was dark times, Harry, dark times. Voldemort started to gather some followers, brought 'em over to the dark side. Anyone who stood up to him ended up dead. Your parents fought against him, but nobody lived once he decided to kill them. Nobody... not one... 'cept you.
Harry:
Me? Voldemort tried to kill... ME?
Hagrid:
Yes. That ain't no ordinary cut on your forehead. A mark like that only comes from being touched by a curse, and an evil curse at that.
Harry:
What happened to Vol- to You-Know-Who?
Hagrid:
Well, some say he died. Codswallop in my opinion. Nope, I reckon he's still out there, too tired to carry on. But one thing's certain, something about you stumped him that night. That's why you're famous, Harry, that's why everybody knows your name. You're the boy who lived.
