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Harry Potter
Genre Drama


Created by JK Rowling
Starring Edward Furlong

Jonathan Brandis

Julia Stiles

Macaulay Culkin

Kirsten Dunst

Heath Ledger

Matt Damon

Christina Ricci

Robin Williams

Jodie Foster

Ian McKellon

Kyle MacLachlan

Mai Zettering

Various Others

Opening Theme Hedwig's Theme
Location United Kingdom, America
Screenwriter Allan Scott
Number Of Movies 8
Running Time 1180 minutes
Practical Effects, Prosthetics and Stop Motion scenes by Unknown
Music by John Williams, Danny Elfman and Stanley Myers
Produced by JK Rowling

Tim Burton

Nicholas Roeg

Directed by Robert Zemeckis, Tim Burton and Peter Jackson


Harry Potter is a 1990s film series with two films directed by Robert Zemeckis, the others directed by Tim Burton and the final three Directed by Tim Burton and Peter Jackson.

It was made by Warner. Bros and was being filmed in America and the United Kingdom, with American and English actors.

What if J.K. Rowling instead made these books in the 1980s and We would see Edward Furlong as the Boy Who Lived, Jonathan Brandis as the Red headed Weasley and Julia Stiles as the smart and intelligent Girl in Hogwarts.


  1. Films
  2. Production
  3. Cast
  4. Plot
  5. Struggle with effect
  6. Gallery


The First film was in 1991, the second one in 1992, the third one in 1994, the fourth one in 1995, the fifth one in 1997, the sixth one in 1999 and the seven and eighth one in 2000 and 2001.


When Warner. Bros finally got the rights and approvals to Harry Potter, it was impossible to find the Director and the Actors, they finally got Robert Zemeckis who made Back To The Future and Who Framed Roger Rabbit, he soon became in love with Harry Potter and hired Allan Scott, who was the Screenwriter for The Witches in 1990, Scott was trying to think of perfect ideas to the source material and trying to make good changes, meanwhile Zemeckis was planning on how to adapt each aspect of the Book trying to get more great ideas.


The Philosopher's Stone Cast

Edward Furlong as Harry Potter

Jonathan Brandis as Ron Weasley

Julia Stiles as Hermione Granger

Macaulay Culkin as Draco Malfoy

Kirsten Dunst as Ginny Weasley

Heath Ledger as Fred Weasley

Matt Damon as George Weasley

Jake Gyllenhaal as Seamus Finnegan

Elijah Wood as Neville Longbottom

Robin Williams as Rubeus Hagrid

??? as Madam Pooch

Jodie Foster as Minerva McGonagall

Ian McKellon as Albus Dumbledore

Mark Hamill as Vernon Dursley

??? as Petunia Dursley

??? as Dudley Dursley

John Hurt as Firenze The Centaur

??? as Quirinus Quirrell

Angus Scrimm as Lord Voldemort

??? as Peeves the Poltergeist

??? as Dean Thomas

??? as Lee Jordan

Kyle MacLachlan as Severus Snape

The Chamber of Secrets Cast

Christian Bale as Tom Riddle

Tobey Maguire as the Voice of Dobby

Robin Shou as The Voice of The Basilisk

Brandon Lee as Lucius Malfoy

Linden Ashby as Gilderoy Lockhart

Mai Zettering as Madam Pomfrey

Will Friedle as Collin Creevey

??? as Cornelius Fudge

The Prisoner of Azkaban Cast

Brad Douriff as Sirius Black

Brad Pitt as Remis Lupin

John Lithgow as Peter Pettigrew

??? as Stan Shunpike

??? as Ernie Prang

The Goblet of Fire Cast

Leonardo DiCaprio as Cedric Diggory

Kate Winslet as Fleur Delacour

Freddie Prinze. Jr as Viktor Krum

Ewan McGregor as Barty Crouch. Jr

Christopher Lee as Barty Crouch

Anjelica Huston as Madame Maxine

??? as Mad-Eye Moody

??? as Winky

??? as Ludo Bagman

The Order of the Phoenix Cast

Christina Ricci as Luna Lovegood

Pam Farris as Dolores Umbridge

Drew Barrymore as Nymphadora Tonks

Keith David as Kingsley Shacklebolt

??? as Elphias Doge

??? as Kreacher

Rachel Weisz as Bellatrix Lestrange

The Half-Blood Prince Cast

Frank Welker as Horace Slughorn

??? as Narcissa Malfoy

??? as Fenrir Greyback

??? as Bill Weasley

??? as Charlie Weasley

??? as Rufus Scrimmger

The Deathly Hallows Cast

Christopher Lambert as Xenophillus Lovegood

Johnny Depp as Young Gellert Grindelwald

Christopher Walken as Gellert Grindelwald

??? as


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It started to rain. Great drops beat on the roof of the car. Dudley sniveled. “It’s Monday,” he told his mother. “The Great Humberto’s on tonight. I want to stay somewhere

with a television.” Monday. This reminded Harry of something. If it was Monday — and you could usually count

on Dudley to know the days the week, because of television — then tomorrow, Tuesday, was

Harry’s eleventh birthday. Of course, his birthdays were never exactly fun — last year, the

Dursleys had given him a coat hanger and a pair of Uncle Vernon’s old socks. Still, you weren’t

eleven every day. Uncle Vernon was back and he was smiling. He was also carrying a long, thin package and

didn’t answer Aunt Petunia when she asked what he’d bought. “Found the perfect place!” he said. “Come on! Everyone out!” It was very cold outside the car. Uncle Vernon was pointing at what looked like a large rock way

out at sea. Perched on top of the rock was the most miserable little shack you could imagine. One

thing was certain, there was no television in there. “Storm forecast for tonight!” said Uncle Vernon gleefully, clapping his hands together. “And this

gentleman’s kindly agreed to lend us his boat!” A toothless old man came ambling up to them, pointing, with a rather wicked grin, at an old

rowboat bobbing in the iron-gray water below them. “I’ve already got us some rations,” said Uncle Vernon, “so all aboard!” It was freezing in the boat. Icy sea spray and rain crept down their necks and a chilly wind

whipped their faces. After what seemed like hours they reached the rock, where Uncle Vernon,

slipping and sliding, led the way to the broken-down house. The inside was horrible; it smelled strongly of seaweed, the wind whistled through the gaps in

the wooden walls, and the fireplace was damp and empty. There were only two rooms. Uncle Vernon’s rations turned out to be a bag of chips each and four bananas. He tried to start a

fire but the empty chip bags just smoked and shriveled up. “Could do with some of those letters now, eh?” he said cheerfully. He was in a very good mood. Obviously he thought nobody stood a chance of reaching them here

in a storm to deliver mail. Harry privately agreed, though the thought didn’t cheer him up at all.

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As night fell, the promised storm blew up around them. Spray from the high waves splattered the

walls of the hut and a fierce wind rattled the filthy windows. Aunt Petunia found a few moldy

blankets in the second room and made up a bed for Dudley on the moth-eaten sofa. She and

Uncle Vernon went off to the lumpy bed next door, and Harry was left to find the softest bit of

floor he could and to curl up under the thinnest, most ragged blanket. The storm raged more and more ferociously as the night went on. Harry couldn’t sleep. He

shivered and turned over, trying to get comfortable, his stomach rumbling with hunger. Dudley’s

snores were drowned by the low rolls of thunder that started near midnight. The lighted dial of

Dudley’s watch, which was dangling over the edge of the sofa on his fat wrist, told Harry he’d be

eleven in ten minutes’ time. He lay and watched his birthday tick nearer, wondering if the

Dursleys would remember at all, wondering where the letter writer was now. Five minutes to go. Harry heard something creak outside. He hoped the roof wasn’t going to fall

in, although he might be warmer if it did. Four minutes to go. Maybe the house in Privet Drive

would be so full of letters when they got back that he’d be able to steal one somehow. Three minutes to go. Was that the sea, slapping hard on the rock like that? And (two minutes to

go) what was that funny crunching noise? Was the rock crumbling into the sea? One minute to go and he’d be eleven. Thirty seconds... twenty... ten... nine — maybe he’d

wake Dudley up, just to annoy him — three... two... one...

BOOM. The whole shack shivered and Harry sat bolt upright, staring at the door. Someone was outside,

knocking to come in.

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The Keeper of the Keys BOOM. They knocked again. Dudley jerked awake. “Where’s the cannon?” he said stupidly. There was a crash behind them and Uncle Vernon came skidding into the room. He was holding

a rifle in his hands – now they knew what had been in the long, thin package he had brought with

them. “Who’s there?” he shouted. “I warn you — I’m armed!” There was a pause. Then — SMASH!

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The door was hit with such force that it swung clean off its hinges and with a deafening crash

landed flat on the floor. A giant of a man was standing in the doorway. His face was almost completely hidden by a long,

shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard, but you could make out his eyes, glinting like

black beetles under all the hair. The giant squeezed his way into the hut, stooping so that his head just brushed the ceiling. He

bent down, picked up the door, and fitted it easily back into its frame. The noise of the storm

outside dropped a little. He turned to look at them all. “Couldn’t make us a cup o’ tea, could yeh? It’s not been an easy journey...” He strode over to the sofa where Dudley sat frozen with fear. “Budge up, yeh great lump,” said the stranger. Dudley squeaked and ran to hide behind his mother, who was crouching, terrified, behind Uncle

Vernon. “An’ here’s Harry!” said the giant. Harry looked up into the fierce, wild, shadowy face and saw that the beetle eyes were crinkled in

a smile. “Las’ time I saw you, you was only a baby,” said the giant. “Yeh look a lot like yer dad, but

yeh’ve got yer mom’s eyes.” Uncle Vernon made a funny rasping noise. “I demand that you leave at once, sir!” he said. “You are breaking and entering!” “Ah, shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune,” said the giant; he reached over the back of the sofa,

jerked the gun out of Uncle Vernon’s hands, bent it into a knot as easily as if it had been made of

rubber, and threw it into a corner of the room. Uncle Vernon made another funny noise, like a mouse being trodden on. “Anyway — Harry,” said the giant, turning his back on the Dursleys, “a very happy birthday to

yeh. Got summat fer yeh here — I mighta sat on it at some point, but it’ll taste all right.”

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From an inside pocket of his black overcoat he pulled a slightly squashed box. Harry opened it

with trembling fingers. Inside was a large, sticky chocolate cake with Happy Birthday Harry

written on it in green icing. Harry looked up at the giant. He meant to say thank you, but the words got lost on the way to his

mouth, and what he said instead was, “Who are you?” The giant chuckled. “True, I haven’t introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts.” He held out an enormous hand and shook Harry’s whole arm. “What about that tea then, eh?” he said, rubbing his hands together. “I’d not say no ter summat

stronger if yeh’ve got it, mind.” His eyes fell on the empty grate with the shriveled chip bags in it and he snorted. He bent down

over the fireplace; they couldn’t see what he was doing but when he drew back a second later,

there was a roaring fire there. It filled the whole damp hut with flickering light and Harry felt the

warmth wash over him as though he’d sunk into a hot bath. The giant sat back down on the sofa, which sagged under his weight, and began taking all sorts

of things out of the pockets of his coat: a copper kettle, a squashy package of sausages, a poker, a

teapot, several chipped mugs, and a bottle of some amber liquid that he took a swig from before

starting to make tea. Soon the hut was full of the sound and smell of sizzling sausage. Nobody

said a thing while the giant was working, but as he slid the first six fat, juicy, slightly burnt

sausages from the poker, Dudley fidgeted a little. Uncle Vernon said sharply, “Don’t touch

anything he gives you, Dudley.” The giant chuckled darkly. “Yer great puddin’ of a son don’ need fattenin’ anymore, Dursley, don’ worry.” He passed the sausages to Harry, who was so hungry he had never tasted anything so wonderful,

but he still couldn’t take his eyes off the giant. Finally, as nobody seemed about to explain

anything, he said, “I’m sorry, but I still don’t really know who you are.” The giant took a gulp of tea and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Call me Hagrid,” he said, “everyone does. An’ like I told yeh, I’m Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts

— yeh’ll know all about Hogwarts, o’ course.

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“Er — no,” said Harry. Hagrid looked shocked. “Sorry,” Harry said quickly. “Sorry?” barked Hagrid, turning to stare at the Dursleys, who shrank back into the shadows. “It’s

them as should be sorry! I knew yeh weren’t gettin’ yer letters but I never thought yeh wouldn’t

even know abou’ Hogwarts, fer cryin’ out loud! Did yeh never wonder where yer parents learned

it all?” “All what?” asked Harry. “ALL WHAT?” Hagrid thundered. “Now wait jus’ one second!” He had leapt to his feet. In his anger he seemed to fill the whole hut. The Dursleys were

cowering against the wall. “Do you mean ter tell me,” he growled at the Dursleys, “that this boy — this boy! — knows

nothin’ abou’ — about ANYTHING?” Harry thought this was going a bit far. He had been to school, after all, and his marks weren’t

bad. “I know some things,” he said. “I can, you know, do math and stuff.” But Hagrid simply waved his hand and said, “About our world, I mean. Your world. My world.

Yer parents’ world.” “What world?” Hagrid looked as if he was about to explode. “DURSLEY!” he boomed. Uncle Vernon, who had gone very pale, whispered something that sounded like

“Mimblewimble.” Hagrid stared wildly at Harry. “But yeh must know about yer mom and dad,” he said. “I mean, they’re famous. You’re famous.” “What? My — my mom and dad weren’t famous, were they?”

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“Yeh don’ know... yeh don’ know...” Hagrid ran his fingers through his hair, fixing Harry with

a bewildered stare. “Yeh don’ know what yeh are?” he said finally. Uncle Vernon suddenly found his voice. “Stop!” he commanded. “Stop right there, sir! I forbid you to tell the boy anything!” A braver man than Vernon Dursley would have quailed under the furious look Hagrid now gave

him; when Hagrid spoke, his every syllable trembled with rage. “You never told him? Never told him what was in the letter Dumbledore left fer him? I was

there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Dursley! An’ you’ve kept it from him all these years?” “Kept what from me?” said Harry eagerly. “STOP! I FORBID YOU!” yelled Uncle Vernon in panic. Aunt Petunia gave a gasp of horror. “Ah, go boil yer heads, both of yeh,” said Hagrid. “Harry — yer a wizard.” There was silence inside the hut. Only the sea and the whistling wind could be heard. “I’m a what?” gasped Harry. “A wizard, o’ course,” said Hagrid, sitting back down on the sofa, which groaned and sank even

lower, “an’ a thumpin’ good ‘un, I’d say, once yeh’ve been trained up a bit. With a mum an’ dad

like yours, what else would yeh be? An’ I reckon it’s abou’ time yeh read yer letter.” Harry stretched out his hand at last to take the yellowish envelope, addressed in emerald green to

Mr. H. Potter, The Floor, Hut-on-the-Rock, The Sea. He pulled out the letter and read: HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY


(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International

Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Potter,

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We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft

and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress Questions exploded inside Harry’s head like fireworks and he couldn’t decide which to ask first.

After a few minutes he stammered, “What does it mean, they await my owl?” “Gallopin’ Gorgons, that reminds me,” said Hagrid, clapping a hand to his forehead with enough

force to knock over a cart horse, and from yet another pocket inside his overcoat he pulled an

owl — a real, live, rather ruffled-looking owl — a long quill, and a roll of parchment. With his

tongue between his teeth he scribbled a note that Harry could read upside down: Dear Professor Dumbledore,

Given Harry his letter.

Taking him to buy his things tomorrow.

Weather’s horrible. Hope you’re well.

Hagrid Hagrid rolled up the note, gave it to the owl, which clamped it in its beak, went to the door, and

threw the owl out into the storm. Then he came back and sat down as though this was as normal

as talking on the telephone. Harry realized his mouth was open and closed it quickly. “Where was I?” said Hagrid, but at that moment, Uncle Vernon, still ashen-faced but looking

very angry, moved into the firelight. “He’s not going,” he said. Hagrid grunted.

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“I’d like ter see a great Muggle like you stop him,” he said. “A what?” said Harry, interested. “A Muggle,” said Hagrid, “it’s what we call nonmagic folk like them. An’ it’s your bad luck you

grew up in a family o’ the biggest Muggles I ever laid eyes on.” “We swore when we took him in we’d put a stop to that rubbish,” said Uncle Vernon, “swore

we’d stamp it out of him! Wizard indeed!” “You knew?” said Harry. “You knew I’m a — a wizard?” “Knew!” shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly. “Knew! Of course we knew! How could you not be,

my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to

that — that school — and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning

teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was — a freak! But for my mother

and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!” She stopped to draw a deep breath and then went ranting on. It seemed she had been wanting to

say all this for years. “Then she met that Potter at school and they left and got married and had you, and of course I

knew you’d be just the same, just as strange, just as — as —abnormal — and then, if you please,

she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you!” Harry had gone very white. As soon as he found his voice he said, “Blown up? You told me they

died in a car crash!” “CAR CRASH!” roared Hagrid, jumping up so angrily that the Dursleys scuttled back to their

corner. “How could a car crash kill Lily an’ James Potter? It’s an outrage! A scandal! Harry

Potter not knowin’ his own story when every kid in our world knows his name!” “But why? What happened?” Harry asked urgently. The anger faded from Hagrid’s face. He looked suddenly anxious. “I never expected this,” he said, in a low, worried voice. “I had no idea, when Dumbledore told

me there might be trouble gettin’ hold of yeh, how much yeh didn’t know. Ah, Harry, I don’

know if I’m the right person ter tell yeh — but someone’s gotta — yeh can’t go off ter Hogwarts

not knowin’.”

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He threw a dirty look at the Dursleys. “Well, it’s best yeh know as much as I can tell yeh — mind, I can’t tell yeh everythin’, it’s a

great myst’ry, parts of it...” He sat down, stared into the fire for a few seconds, and then said, “It begins, I suppose, with —

with a person called — but it’s incredible yeh don’t know his name, everyone in our world knows —” “Who?” “Well — I don’ like sayin’ the name if I can help it. No one does.” “Why not?” “Gulpin’ gargoyles, Harry, people are still scared. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this

wizard who went... bad. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name was...” Hagrid gulped, but no words came out. “Could you write it down?” Harry suggested. “Nah — can’t spell it. All right —Voldemort. ” Hagrid shuddered. “Don’ make me say it again.

Anyway, this — this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin’ fer followers. Got ‘em,

too — some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o’ his power, ‘cause he was gettin’ himself

power, all right. Dark days, Harry. Didn’t know who ter trust, didn’t dare get friendly with

strange wizards or witches... terrible things happened. He was takin’ over. ‘Course, some stood

up to him — an’ he killed ‘em. Horribly. One o’ the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon

Dumbledore’s the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn’t dare try takin’ the school, not

jus’ then, anyway. “Now, yer mum an’ dad were as good a witch an’ wizard as I ever knew. Head boy an’ girl at

Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the myst’ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get ‘em on his

side before... probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin’ ter do with

the Dark Side. “Maybe he thought he could persuade ‘em... maybe he just wanted ‘em outta the way. All

anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Halloween ten years

ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an’ — an’ —”

Hagrid suddenly pulled out a very dirty, spotted handkerchief and blew his nose with a sound

like a foghorn.

The Struggle with Effect

The effect makers worked very hard and tried there best to have there be great looking scenes, but did you know it was so impossible to make the film sets by Stuart Craig, stop motion, vfx and cgi, prosthetics and practical effects?