diff --git a/python/llm/dev/benchmark/all-in-one/prompt/8192.txt b/python/llm/dev/benchmark/all-in-one/prompt/8192.txt index 997b2a81..75083ff9 100644 --- a/python/llm/dev/benchmark/all-in-one/prompt/8192.txt +++ b/python/llm/dev/benchmark/all-in-one/prompt/8192.txt @@ -1,154 +1 @@ - Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone - CHAPTER ONE - THE BOY WHO LIVED - Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense. - Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache. Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors. The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere. - The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters. Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be. The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived in the street. The Dursleys knew that the Potters had a small son, too, but they had never even seen him. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with a child like that. - When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, gray Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work, and Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair. - None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window. - At half past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Dursley on the cheek, and tried to kiss Dudley good-bye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls. "Little tyke," chortled Mr. Dursley as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive. - It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar -- a cat reading a map. For a second, Mr. Dursley didn't realize what he had seen -- then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr. Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive -- no, looking at the sign; cats couldn't read maps or signs. Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day. - But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks. Mr. Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes -- the getups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdos standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak! The nerve of him! But then it struck Mr. Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt -- these people were obviously collecting for something... yes, that would be it. The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley arrived in the Grunnings parking lot, his mind back on drills. - Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. He didn't see the owls swoop ing past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open- mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime. Mr. Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more. He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road to buy himself a bun from the bakery. - He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy. This bunch were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying. - "The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard yes, their son, Harry" - Mr. Dursley stopped dead. Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it. - He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone, and had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his mustache, thinking... no, he was being stupid. Potter wasn't such an unusual name. He was sure there were lots of people called Potter who had a son called Harry. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his nephew was called Harry. He'd never even seen the boy. It might have been Harvey. Or Harold. There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her -- if he'd had a sister like that... but all the same, those people in cloaks... - He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door. - "Sorry," he grunted, as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr. Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passersby stare, "Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!" - And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off. - Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination. - As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw -- and it didn't improve his mood -- was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes. - "Shoo!" said Mr. Dursley loudly. The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look. Was this normal cat behavior? Mr. Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife. - Mrs. Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learned a new word ("Won't!"). Mr. Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news: - "And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." The newscaster allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?" - "Well, Ted," said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early -- it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight." - Mr. Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters... - Mrs. Dursley came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. "Er -- Petunia, dear -- you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?" - As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister. - "No," she said sharply. "Why?" - "Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled. "Owls... shooting stars... and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today..." - "So?" snapped Mrs. Dursley. - "Well, I just thought... maybe... it was something to do with... you know... her crowd." - Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Potter." He decided he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their son -- he'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't he?" - "I suppose so," said Mrs. Dursley stiffly. - "What's his name again? Howard, isn't it?" - "Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me." - "Oh, yes," said Mr. Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree." - He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr. Dursley crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there. It was staring down Privet Drive as though it were waiting for something. - Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did... if it got out that they were related to a pair of -- well, he didn't think he could bear it. - The Dursleys got into bed. Mrs. Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr. Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Potters were involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Dursley. The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about them and their kind.... He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on -- he yawned and turned over -- it couldn't affect them.... - How very wrong he was. - Mr. Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all. - A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed. - Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore. - Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known." - He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. He clicked it again -- the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it. - "Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall." - He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled. - "How did you know it was me?" she asked. - "My dear Professor, I 've never seen a cat sit so stiffly." - "You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall. - "All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here." - Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily. - "Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no -- even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls... shooting stars.... Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent -- I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense." - "You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years." - "I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors." - She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day YouKnow-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?" - "It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?" - "A what?" - "A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of" - "No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. "As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone -" - "My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You- Know-Who' nonsense -- for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort." Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name. - "I know you haven 't, said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, Voldemort, was frightened of." - "You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have." - "Only because you're too -- well -- noble to use them." - "It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs." - Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the rumors that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?" - It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer. - "What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are -- are -- that they're -- dead. " - Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped. - "Lily and James... I can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it... Oh, Albus..." - Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know... I know..." he said heavily. - Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry. But -- he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke -- and that's why he's gone. - Dumbledore nodded glumly. - "It's -- it's true?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done... all the people he's killed... he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding... of all the things to stop him... but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?" - "We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know." - Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?" - "Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?" - "I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now." - "You don't mean -- you can't mean the people who live here?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore -- you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son -- I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!" - "It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter." - "A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous -- a legend -- I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future -- there will be books written about Harry -- every child in our world will know his name!" - "Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! CarA you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?" - Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes -- yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry underneath it. - "Hagrid's bringing him." - "You think it -- wise -- to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?" - I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore. - "I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to -- what was that?" - A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky -- and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them. - If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild - long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets. - "Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?" - "Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sit," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him, sir." - "No problems, were there?" - "No, sir -- house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol." - Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning. - "Is that where -?" whispered Professor McGonagall. - "Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever." - "Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?" - "Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well -- give him here, Hagrid -- we'd better get this over with." - Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house. - "Could I -- could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog. - "Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "you'll wake the Muggles!" - "S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it -- Lily an' James dead -- an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles -" - "Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Harry gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out. - "Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations." - "Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I'll be takin' Sirius his bike back. G'night, Professor McGonagall -- Professor Dumbledore, sir." - Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night. - "I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply. - Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four. - "Good luck, Harry," he murmured. He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone. - A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley... He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter -- the boy who lived!" - CHAPTER TWO - THE VANISHING GLASS - Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys' front door; it crept into their living room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr. Dursley had seen that fateful news report about the owls. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different-colored bonnets -- but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large blond boy riding his first bicycle, on a carousel at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother. The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house, too. - Yet Harry Potter was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. His Aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice that made the first noise of the day. - "Up! Get up! Now!" - Harry woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again. - "Up!" she screeched. Harry heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. He rolled onto his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a good one. There had been a flying motorcycle in it. He had a funny feeling he'd had the same dream before. - His aunt was back outside the door. - "Are you up yet?" she demanded. - "Nearly," said Harry. - "Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday." - Harry groaned. - "What did you say?" his aunt snapped through the door. - "Nothing, nothing..." - Dudley's birthday -- how could he have forgotten? Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair under his bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on. Harry was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where he slept. - When he was dressed he went down the hall into the kitchen. The table was almost hidden beneath all Dudley's birthday presents. It looked as though Dudley had gotten the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and the racing bike. Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Harry, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise -- unless of course it involved punching somebody. Dudley's favorite punching bag was Harry, but he couldn't often catch him. Harry didn't look it, but he was very fast. - Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry had always been small and skinny for his age. He looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's, and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was. Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair, and bright green eyes. He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Scotch tape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose. The only thing Harry liked about his own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead that was shaped like a bolt of lightning. He had had it as long as he could remember, and the first question he could ever remember asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had gotten it. - "In the car crash when your parents died," she had said. "And don't ask questions." - Don't ask questions -- that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys. - Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon. - "Comb your hair!" he barked, by way of a morning greeting. - About once a week, Uncle Vernon looked over the top of his newspaper and shouted that Harry needed a haircut. Harry must have had more haircuts than the rest of the boys in his class put - together, but it made no difference, his hair simply grew that way -- all over the place. - Harry was frying eggs by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother. Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small, watery blue eyes, and thick blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head. Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel -- Harry often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig. - Harry put the plates of egg and bacon on the table, which was difficult as there wasn't much room. Dudley, meanwhile, was counting his presents. His face fell. - "Thirty-six," he said, looking up at his mother and father. "That's two less than last year." - "Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mommy and Daddy." - "All right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face. Harry, who could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began wolfing down his bacon as fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over. - Aunt Petunia obviously scented danger, too, because she said quickly, "And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin? Two more presents. Is that all right'' - Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work. Finally he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty ... thirty..." - "Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia. - "Oh." Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then." - Uncle Vernon chuckled. "Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair. - At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a video camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new computer games, and a VCR. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petunia came back from the telephone looking both angry and worried. - "Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take him." She jerked her head in Harry's direction. - Dudley's mouth fell open in horror, but Harry's heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley's birthday, his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned. - "Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he'd planned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tufty again. - "We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested. - "Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy." - The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn't there -- or rather, as though he was something very nasty that couldn't understand them, like a slug. - "What about what's-her-name, your friend -- Yvonne?" - "On vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia. - "You could just leave me here," Harry put in hopefull \ No newline at end of file +461 U.S. 238 (1983) OLIM ET AL. v. WAKINEKONA No. 81-1581. Supreme Court of United States. Argued January 19, 1983. Decided April 26, 1983. CERTIORARI TO THE UNITED STATES COURT OF APPEALS FOR THE NINTH CIRCUIT *239 Michael A. Lilly, First Deputy Attorney General of Hawaii, argued the cause for petitioners. With him on the brief was James H. Dannenberg, Deputy Attorney General. Robert Gilbert Johnston argued the cause for respondent. With him on the brief was Clayton C. Ikei.[*] *240 JUSTICE BLACKMUN delivered the opinion of the Court. The issue in this case is whether the transfer of a prisoner from a state prison in Hawaii to one in California implicates a liberty interest within the meaning of the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment. I A Respondent Delbert Kaahanui Wakinekona is serving a sentence of life imprisonment without the possibility of parole as a result of his murder conviction in a Hawaii state court. He also is serving sentences for various other crimes, including rape, robbery, and escape. At the Hawaii State Prison outside Honolulu, respondent was classified as a maximum security risk and placed in the maximum control unit. Petitioner Antone Olim is the Administrator of the Hawaii State Prison. The other petitioners constituted a prison 'Program Committee.' On August 2, 1976, the Committee held hearings to determine the reasons for a breakdown in discipline and the failure of certain programs within the prison's maximum control unit. Inmates of the unit appeared at these hearings. The Committee singled out respondent and another inmate as troublemakers. On August 5, respondent received notice that the Committee, at a hearing to be held on August 10, would review his correctional program to determine whether his classification within the system should be changed and whether he should be transferred to another Hawaii facility or to a mainland institution. *241 The August 10 hearing was conducted by the same persons who had presided over the hearings on August 2. Respondent retained counsel to represent him. The Committee recommended that respondent's classification as a maximum security risk be continued and that he be transferred to a prison on the mainland. He received the following explanation from the Committee: 'The Program Committee, having reviewed your entire file, your testimony and arguments by your counsel, concluded that your control classification remains at Maximum. You are still considered a security risk in view of your escapes and subsequent convictions for serious felonies. The Committee noted the progress you made in vocational training and your expressed desire to continue in this endeavor. However your relationship with staff, who reported that you threaten and intimidate them, raises grave concerns regarding your potential for further disruptive and violent behavior. Since there is no other Maximum security prison in Hawaii which can offer you the correctional programs you require and you cannot remain at [the maximum control unit] because of impending construction of a new facility, the Program Committee recommends your transfer to an institution on the mainland.' App. 7-8. Petitioner Olim, as Administrator, accepted the Committee's recommendation, and a few days later respondent was transferred to Folsom State Prison in California. B Rule IV of the Supplementary Rules and Regulations of the Corrections Division, Department of Social Services and Housing, State of Hawaii, approved in June 1976, recites that the inmate classification process is not concerned with punishment. Rather, it is intended to promote the best interests *242 of the inmate, the State, and the prison community.[1] Paragraph 3 of Rule IV requires a hearing prior to a prison transfer involving 'a grievous loss to the inmate,' which the Rule defines 'generally' as 'a serious loss to a reasonable man.' App. 21.[2] The Administrator, under ¶ 2 of the Rule, is required to establish 'an impartial Program Committee' to conduct such a hearing, the Committee to be 'composed of at least three members who were not actively involved in the process by which the inmate . . . was brought before the Committee.' App. 20. Under ¶ 3, the Committee must give the inmate written notice of the hearing, permit him, with certain stated exceptions, to confront and cross-examine witnesses, afford him an opportunity to be heard, and apprise him of the Committee's findings. App. 21-24.[3] The Committee is directed to make a recommendation to the Administrator, who then decides what action to take: '[The Administrator] may, as the final decisionmaker: '(a) Affirm or reverse, in whole or in part, the recommendation; or '(b) hold in abeyance any action he believes jeopardizes the safety, security, or welfare of the staff, inmate *243. . . , other inmates . . . , institution, or community and refer the matter back to the Program Committee for further study and recommendation.' Rule IV, ¶ 3d(3), App. 24. The regulations contain no standards governing the Administrator's exercise of his discretion. See Lono v. Ariyoshi, 63 Haw. 138, 144-145, 621 P. 2d 976, 980-981 (1981). C Respondent filed suit under 42 U. S. C. § 1983 against petitioners as the state officials who caused his transfer. He alleged that he had been denied procedural due process because the Committee that recommended his transfer consisted of the same persons who had initiated the hearing, this being in specific violation of Rule IV, ¶ 2, and because the Committee was biased against him. The United States District Court for the District of Hawaii dismissed the complaint, holding that the Hawaii regulations governing prison transfers do not create a substantive liberty interest protected by the Due Process Clause. 459 F. Supp. 473 (1978).[4] The United States Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit, by a divided vote, reversed. 664 F. 2d 708 (1981). It held that Hawaii had created a constitutionally protected liberty interest by promulgating Rule IV. In so doing, the court declined to follow cases from other Courts of Appeals holding that certain procedures mandated by prison transfer regulations do not create a liberty interest. See, e. g., Cofone v. Manson, 594 F. 2d 934 (CA2 1979); Lombardo v. Meachum, 548 F. 2d 13 (CA1 1977). The court reasoned that Rule IV gives Hawaii prisoners a justifiable expectation that they will not be transferred to the mainland absent a hearing, before an impartial committee, concerning the facts alleged in the *244 prehearing notice.[5] Because the Court of Appeals' decision created a conflict among the Circuits, and because the case presents the further question whether the Due Process Clause in and of itself protects against interstate prison transfers, we granted certiorari. 456 U. S. 1005 (1982). II In Meachum v. Fano, 427 U. S. 215 (1976), and Montanye v. Haymes, 427 U. S. 236 (1976), this Court held that an intrastate prison transfer does not directly implicate the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment. In Meachum, inmates at a Massachusetts medium security prison had been transferred to a maximum security prison in that Commonwealth. In Montanye, a companion case, an inmate had been transferred from one maximum security New York prison to another as punishment for a breach of prison rules. This Court rejected 'the notion that any grievous loss visited upon a person by the State is sufficient to invoke the procedural protections of the Due Process Clause.' Meachum, 427 U. S., at 224 (emphasis in original). It went on to state: 'The initial decision to assign the convict to a particular institution is not subject to audit under the Due Process Clause, although the degree of confinement in one prison may be quite different from that in another. The conviction has sufficiently extinguished the defendant's liberty *245 interest to empower the State to confine him in any of its prisons. 'Neither, in our view, does the Due Process Clause in and of itself protect a duly convicted prisoner against transfer from one institution to another within the state prison system. Confinement in any of the State's institutions is within the normal limits or range of custody which the conviction has authorized the State to impose.' Id., at 224-225 (emphasis in original). The Court observed that, although prisoners retain a residuum of liberty, see Wolff v. McDonnell, 418 U. S. 539, 555-556 (1974), a holding that 'any substantial deprivation imposed by prison authorities triggers the procedural protections of the Due Process Clause would subject to judicial review a wide spectrum of discretionary actions that traditionally have been the business of prison administrators rather than of the federal courts.' 427 U. S., at 225 (emphasis in original). Applying the Meachum and Montanye principles in Vitek v. Jones, 445 U. S. 480 (1980), this Court held that the transfer of an inmate from a prison to a mental hospital did implicate a liberty interest. Placement in the mental hospital was 'not within the range of conditions of confinement to which a prison sentence subjects an individual,' because it brought about 'consequences . . . qualitatively different from the punishment characteristically suffered by a person convicted of crime.' Id., at 493. Respondent argues that the same is true of confinement of a Hawaii prisoner on the mainland, and that Vitek therefore controls. We do not agree. Just as an inmate has no justifiable expectation that he will be incarcerated in any particular prison within a State, he has no justifiable expectation that he will be incarcerated in any particular State.[6] Often, confinement *246 in the inmate's home State will not be possible. A person convicted of a federal crime in a State without a federal correctional facility usually will serve his sentence in another State. Overcrowding and the need to separate particular prisoners may necessitate interstate transfers. For any number of reasons, a State may lack prison facilities capable of providing appropriate correctional programs for all offenders. Statutes and interstate agreements recognize that, from time to time, it is necessary to transfer inmates to prisons in other States. On the federal level, 18 U. S. C. § 5003(a) authorizes the Attorney General to contract with a State for the transfer of a state prisoner to a federal prison, whether in that State or another. See Howe v. Smith, 452 U. S. 473 (1981).[7] Title 18 U. S. C. § 4002 (1976 ed. and Supp. V) permits the Attorney General to contract with any State for the placement of a federal prisoner in state custody for up to three years. Neither statute requires that the prisoner remain in the State in which he was convicted and sentenced. On the state level, many States have statutes providing for the transfer of a state prisoner to a federal prison, e. g., Haw. Rev. Stat. § 353-18 (1976), or another State's prison, e. g., Alaska Stat. Ann. § 33.30.100 (1982). Corrections compacts between States, implemented by statutes, authorize incarceration of a prisoner of one State in another State's prison. See, e. g., Cal. Penal Code Ann. § 11189 (West 1982) (codifying Interstate Corrections Compact); § 11190 (codifying Western Interstate Corrections Compact); Conn. Gen. *247 Stat. § 18-102 (1981) (codifying New England Interstate Corrections Compact); § 18-106 (codifying Interstate Corrections Compact); Haw. Rev. Stat. § 355-1 (1976) (codifying Western Interstate Corrections Compact); Idaho Code § 20-701 (1979) (codifying Interstate Corrections Compact); Ky. Rev. Stat. § 196.610 (1982) (same). And prison regulations such as Hawaii's Rule IV anticipate that inmates sometimes will be transferred to prisons in other States. In short, it is neither unreasonable nor unusual for an inmate to serve practically his entire sentence in a State other than the one in which he was convicted and sentenced, or to be transferred to an out-of-state prison after serving a portion of his sentence in his home State. Confinement in another State, unlike confinement in a mental institution, is 'within the normal limits or range of custody which the conviction has authorized the State to impose.' Meachum, 427 U. S., at 225.[8] Even when, as here, the transfer involves long distances and an ocean crossing, the confinement remains within constitutional limits. The difference between such a transfer and an intrastate or interstate transfer of *248 shorter distance is a matter of degree, not of kind,[9] and Meachum instructs that 'the determining factor is the nature of the interest involved rather than its weight.' 427 U. S., at 224. The reasoning of Meachum and Montanye compels the conclusion that an interstate prison transfer, including one from Hawaii to California, does not deprive an inmate of any liberty interest protected by the Due Process Clause in and of itself. III The Court of Appeals held that Hawaii's prison regulations create a constitutionally protected liberty interest. In Meachum, however, the State had 'conferred no right on the *249 prisoner to remain in the prison to which he was initially assigned, defeasible only upon proof of specific acts of misconduct,' 427 U. S., at 226, and 'ha[d] not represented that transfers [would] occur only on the occurrence of certain events,' id., at 228. Because the State had retained 'discretion to transfer [the prisoner] for whatever reason or for no reason at all,' ibid., the Court found that the State had not created a constitutionally protected liberty interest. Similarly, because the state law at issue in Montanye 'impose[d] no conditions on the discretionary power to transfer,' 427 U. S., at 243, there was no basis for invoking the protections of the Due Process Clause. These cases demonstrate that a State creates a protected liberty interest by placing substantive limitations on official discretion. An inmate must show 'that particularized standards or criteria guide the State's decisionmakers.' Connecticut Board of Pardons v. Dumschat, 452 U. S. 458, 467 (1981) (BRENNAN, J., concurring). If the decisionmaker is not 'required to base its decisions on objective and defined criteria,' but instead 'can deny the requested relief for any constitutionally permissible reason or for no reason at all,' ibid., the State has not created a constitutionally protected liberty interest. See id., at 466-467 (opinion of the Court); see also Vitek v. Jones, 445 U. S., at 488-491 (summarizing cases). Hawaii's prison regulations place no substantive limitations on official discretion and thus create no liberty interest entitled to protection under the Due Process Clause. As Rule IV itself makes clear, and as the Supreme Court of Hawaii has held in Lono v. Ariyoshi, 63 Haw., at 144-145, 621 P. 2d, at 980-981, the prison Administrator's discretion to transfer an inmate is completely unfettered. No standards govern or restrict the Administrator's determination. Because the Administrator is the only decisionmaker under Rule IV, we need not decide whether the introductory paragraph *250 of Rule IV, see n. 1, supra, places any substantive limitations on the purely advisory Program Committee.[10] The Court of Appeals thus erred in attributing significance to the fact that the prison regulations require a particular kind of hearing before the Administrator can exercise his unfettered discretion.[11] As the United States Court of Appeals for the Seventh Circuit recently stated in Shango v. Jurich, 681 F. 2d 1091, 1100-1101 (1982), '[a] liberty interest is of course a substantive interest of an individual; it cannot be the right to demand needless formality.'[12] Process is not an end in itself. Its constitutional purpose is to protect a substantive interest to which the individual has a legitimate claim of entitlement. See generally Simon, Liberty and Property in the Supreme Court: A Defense of Roth and Perry, 71 Calif. L. Rev. 146, 186 (1983). If officials may transfer a prisoner 'for whatever reason or for no reason at all,' Meachum, 427 U. S., at 228, there is no such interest for process to protect. The State may choose to require procedures for reasons other than protection against deprivation of substantive *251 rights, of course,[13] but in making that choice the State does not create an independent substantive right. See Hewitt v. Helms, 459 U. S. 460, 471 (1983). IV In sum, we hold that the transfer of respondent from Hawaii to California did not implicate the Due Process Clause directly, and that Hawaii's prison regulations do not create a protected liberty interest.[14] Accordingly, the judgment of the Court of Appeals is Reversed. JUSTICE MARSHALL, with whom JUSTICE BRENNAN joins, and with whom JUSTICE STEVENS joins as to Part I, dissenting. In my view, the transfer of respondent Delbert Kaahanui Wakinekona from a prison in Hawaii to a prison in California implicated an interest in liberty protected by the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment. I respectfully dissent. I An inmate's liberty interest is not limited to whatever a State chooses to bestow upon him. An inmate retains a significant residuum of constitutionally protected liberty following his incarceration independent of any state law. As we stated in Wolff v. McDonnell, 418 U. S. 539, 555-556 (1974): '[A] prisoner is not wholly stripped of constitutional protections when he is imprisoned for crime. There is no iron curtain drawn between the Constitution and the prisons *252 of this country. . . . [Prisoners] may not be deprived of life, liberty, or property without due process of law.' In determining whether a change in the conditions of imprisonment implicates a prisoner's retained liberty interest, the relevant question is whether the change constitutes a sufficiently 'grievous loss' to trigger the protection of due process. Vitek v. Jones, 445 U. S. 480, 488 (1980). See Morrissey v. Brewer, 408 U. S. 471, 481 (1972), citing Joint Anti-Fascist Refugee Committee v. McGrath, 341 U. S. 123, 168 (1951) (Frankfurter, J., concurring). The answer depends in part on a comparison of 'the treatment of the particular prisoner with the customary, habitual treatment of the population of the prison as a whole.' Hewitt v. Helms, 459 U. S. 460, 486 (1983) (STEVENS, J., dissenting). This principle was established in our decision in Vitek, which held that the transfer of an inmate from a prison to a mental hospital implicated a liberty interest because it brought about 'consequences . . . qualitatively different from the punishment characteristically suffered by a person convicted of crime.' 445 U. S., at 493. Because a significant qualitative change in the conditions of confinement is not 'within the range of conditions of confinement to which a prison sentence subjects an individual,' ibid., such a change implicates a prisoner's protected liberty interest. There can be little doubt that the transfer of Wakinekona from a Hawaii prison to a prison in California represents a substantial qualitative change in the conditions of his confinement. In addition to being incarcerated, which is the ordinary consequence of a criminal conviction and sentence, Wakinekona has in effect been banished from his home, a punishment historically considered to be 'among the severest.'[1] For an indeterminate period of time, possibly the *253 rest of his life, nearly 2,500 miles of ocean will separate him from his family and friends. As a practical matter, Wakinekona may be entirely cut off from his only contacts with the outside world, just as if he had been imprisoned in an institution which prohibited visits by outsiders. Surely the isolation imposed on him by the transfer is far more drastic than that which normally accompanies imprisonment. I cannot agree with the Court that Meachum v. Fano, 427 U. S. 215 (1976), and Montanye v. Haymes, 427 U. S. 236, 243 (1976), compel the conclusion that Wakinekona's transfer implicates no liberty interest. Ante, at 248. Both cases involved transfers of prisoners between institutions located within the same State in which they were convicted, and the Court expressly phrased its holdings in terms of intrastate transfers.[2] Both decisions rested on the premise that no liberty interest is implicated by an initial decision to place a prisoner in one institution in the State rather than another. See Meachum, supra, at 224; Montanye, supra, at 243. On the basis of that premise, the Court concluded that the subsequent transfer of a prisoner to a different facility within the State likewise implicates no liberty interest. In this case, however, we cannot assume that a State's initial placement of an individual in a prison far removed from his family and residence would raise no due process questions. None of our *254 prior decisions has indicated that such a decision would be immune from scrutiny under the Due Process Clause. Actual experience simply does not bear out the Court's assumptions that interstate transfers are routine and that it is 'not unusual' for a prisoner 'to serve practically his entire sentence in a State other than the one in which he was convicted and sentenced.' Ante, at 247. In Hawaii less than three percent of the state prisoners were transferred to prisons in other jurisdictions in 1979, and on a nationwide basis less than one percent of the prisoners held in state institutions were transferred to other jurisdictions.[3] Moreover, the vast majority of state prisoners are held in facilities located less than 250 miles from their homes.[4] Measured against these norms, Wakinekona's transfer to a California prison represents a punishment 'qualitively different from the punishment characteristically suffered by a person convicted of crime.' Vitek v. Jones, supra, at 493. I therefore cannot agree that a State may transfer its prisoners at will, to any place, for any reason, without ever implicating any interest in liberty protected by the Due Process Clause. II Nor can I agree with the majority's conclusion that Hawaii's prison regulations do not create a liberty interest. This Court's prior decisions establish that a liberty interest *255 may be 'created'[5] by state laws, prison rules, regulations, or practices. State laws that impose substantive criteria which limit or guide the discretion of officials have been held to create a protected liberty interest. See, e. g., Hewitt v. Helms, 459 U. S. 460 (1983); Wolff v. McDonnell, 418 U. S. 539 (1974); Greenholtz v. Nebraska Penal Inmates, 442 U. S. 1 (1979); Wright v. Enomoto, 462 F. Supp. 397 (ND Cal. 1976), summarily aff'd, 434 U. S. 1052 (1978). By contrast, a liberty interest is not created by a law which 'imposes no conditions on [prison officials'] discretionary power,' Montanye, supra, at 243, authorizes prison officials to act 'for whatever reason or for no reason at all,' Meachum, supra, at 228, or accords officials 'unfettered discretion,' Connecticut Board of Pardons v. Dumschat, 452 U. S. 458, 466 (1981). The Court misapplies these principles in concluding that Hawaii's prison regulations leave prison officials with unfettered discretion to transfer inmates. Ante, at 249-250. Rule IV establishes a scheme under which inmates are classified upon initial placement in an institution, and must subsequently be reclassified before they can be transferred to another institution. Under the Rule the standard for classifying inmates is their 'optimum placement within the Corrections Division' in light of the 'best interests of the individual, the State, and the community.'[6] In classifying inmates, the Program *256 Committee may not consider punitive aims. It may consider only factors relevant to determining where the individual will be 'best situated,' such as 'his history, his changing needs, the resources and facilities available to the Corrections Divisions, the other inmates/wards, the exigencies of the community, and any other relevant factors.' Paragraph 3 of Rule IV establishes a detailed set of procedures applicable when, as in this case, the reclassification of a prisoner may lead to a transfer involving a 'grievous loss,' a phrase contained in the Rule itself.[7] The procedural rules are cast in mandatory language, and cover such matters as notice, access to information, hearing, confrontation and cross-examination, and the basis on which the Committee is to make its recommendation to the facility administrator. The limitations imposed by Rule IV are at least as substantial as those found sufficient to create a liberty interest in Hewitt v. Helms, supra, decided earlier this Term. In Hewitt an inmate contended that his confinement in administrative custody implicated an interest in liberty protected by the Due Process Clause. State law provided that a prison official could place inmates in administrative custody 'upon his assessment of the situation and the need for control,' or 'where it has been determined that there is a threat of a serious disturbance, or a serious threat to the individual or others,' and mandated certain procedures such as notice and a *257 hearing.[8] This Court construed the phrases ' `the need for control,' or `the threat of a serious disturbance,' ' as 'substantive predicates' which restricted official discretion. Id., at 472. These restrictions, in combination with the mandatory procedural safeguards, 'deman[ded] a conclusion that the State has created a protected liberty interest.' Ibid. Rule IV is not distinguishable in any meaningful respect from the provisions at issue in Helms. The procedural requirements contained in Rule IV are, if anything, far more elaborate than those involved in Helms, and are likewise couched in 'language of an unmistakably mandatory character.' Id., at 471. Moreover, Rule IV, to no less an extent than the state law at issue in Helms, imposes substantive criteria restricting official discretion. In Helms this Court held that a statutory phrase such as 'the need for control' constituted a limitation on the discretion of prison officials to place inmates in administrative custody. In my view Rule IV, which states that transfers are intended to ensure an inmate's 'optimum placement' in accordance with considerations which include 'his changing needs [and] the resources and facilities available to the Corrections Division,' also restricts official discretion in ordering transfers.[9] The Court suggests that, even if the Program Committee does not have unlimited discretion in making recommendations for classifications and transfers, this cannot give rise to a state-created liberty interest because the prison Administrator retains 'completely unfettered' 'discretion to transfer *258 an inmate,' ante, at 249. I disagree. Rule IV, ¶ 3(d)(3), provides for review by the prison Administrator of recommendations forwarded to him by the Program Committee.[10] Even if this provision must be construed as authorizing the Administrator to transfer a prisoner for wholly arbitrary reasons,[11] that mere possibility does not defeat the protectible expectation otherwise created by Hawaii's reclassification and transfer scheme that transfers will take place only if required to ensure an inmate's optimum placement. In Helms a prison regulation also left open the possibility that the Superintendent could decide, for any reason or no reason at all, whether an inmate should be confined in administrative custody.[12] This Court nevertheless held that the state scheme as a whole created an interest in liberty protected by the Due Process Clause. 459 U. S., at 471-472. Helms thus necessarily rejects the view that state laws which impose substantive *259 limitations and elaborate procedural requirements on official conduct create no liberty interest solely because there remains the possibility that an official will act in an arbitrary manner at the end of the process.[13] For the foregoing reasons, I dissent. NOTES [*] Briefs of amici curiae urging reversal were filed for the State of Alaska et al. by Paul L. Douglas, Attorney General of Nebraska, J. Kirk Brown, Assistant Attorney General, Judith W. Rogers, Corporation Counsel of the District of Columbia, and the Attorneys General for their respective jurisdictions as follows: Wilson L. Condon of Alaska, Aviata F. Fa'alevao of American Samoa, Robert K. Corbin of Arizona, Jim Smith of Florida, David H. Leroy of Idaho, William J. Guste, Jr., of Louisiana, William A. Allain of Mississippi, Michael T. Greely of Montana, Richard H. Bryan of Nevada, Irwin I. Kimmelman of New Jersey, Jeff Bingaman of New Mexico, Rufus L. Edmisten of North Carolina, Robert Wefald of North Dakota, William J. Brown of Ohio, Dennis J. Roberts II of Rhode Island, Mark V. Meierhenry of South Dakota, William M. Leech, Jr., of Tennessee, John J. Easton of Vermont, Gerald L. Baliles of Virginia, Kenneth O. Eikenberry of Washington, Chauncey H. Browning of West Virginia, Bronson C. La Follette of Wisconsin, and Steven F. Freudenthal of Wyoming; and for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts et al. by Francis X. Bellotti, Attorney General of Massachusetts, Stephen R. Delinsky, Barbara A. H. Smith, and Leo J. Cushing, Assistant Attorneys General, Anthony Ching, Solicitor General of Arizona, and the Attorneys General for their respective jurisdictions as follows: Wilson L. Condon of Alaska, Aviata F. Fa'alevao of American Samoa, Robert K. Corbin of Arizona, Jim Smith of Florida, David H. Leroy of Idaho, William A. Allain of Mississippi, Michael T. Greely of Montana, Irwin I. Kimmelman of New Jersey, Jeff Bingaman of New Mexico, Rufus L. Edmisten of North Carolina, Robert O. Wefald of North Dakota, William J. Brown of Ohio, Dennis J. Roberts II of Rhode Island, Mark V. Meierhenry of South Dakota, William M. Leech, Jr., of Tennessee, John J. Easton of Vermont, Chauncey H. Browning of West Virginia, and Bronson C. La Follette of Wisconsin. [1] Paragraph 1 of Rule IV states: 'An inmate's . . . classification determines where he is best situated within the Corrections Division. Rather than being concerned with isolated aspects of the individual or punishment (as is the adjustment process), classification is a dynamic process which considers the individual, his history, his changing needs, the resources and facilities available to the Corrections Division, the other inmates . . . , the exigencies of the community, and any other relevant factors. It never inflicts punishment; on the contrary, even the imposition of a stricter classification is intended to be in the best interests of the individual, the State, and the community. In short, classification is a continuing evaluation of each individual to ensure that he is given the optimum placement within the Corrections Division.' App. 20. [2] Petitioners concede, 'for purposes of the argument,' that respondent suffered a 'grievous loss' within the meaning of Rule IV when he was transferred from Hawaii to the mainland. Tr. of Oral Arg. 9, 25. [3] Rule V provides that an inmate may retain legal counsel if his hearing concerns a 'potential Interstate transfer.' App. 25. [4] Respondent also had alleged that the transfer violated the Hawaii Constitution and state regulations and statutes. In light of its dismissal of respondent's federal claims, the District Court declined to exercise pendent jurisdiction over these state-law claims. 459 F. Supp., at 476. [5] Several months before the Court of Appeals handed down its decision, the Supreme Court of Hawaii had held that because Hawaii's prison regulations do not limit the Administrator's discretion to transfer prisoners to the mainland, they do not create any liberty interest. Lono v. Ariyoshi, 63 Haw. 138, 621 P. 2d 976 (1981). In a petition for rehearing in the present case, petitioners directed the Ninth Circuit's attention to the Lono decision. See 664 F. 2d, at 714. The Court of Appeals, however, concluded that the Hawaii court's interpretation of the regulations was not different from its own; the Hawaii court merely had reached a different result on the 'federal question.' The Court of Appeals thus adhered to its resolution of the case. Id., at 714-715. [6] Indeed, in Vitek itself the Court did not read Meachum and Montanye as stating a rule applicable only to intrastate transfers. The Court stated: 'In Meachum v. Fano . . . and Montanye v. Haymes . . . we held that the transfer of a prisoner from one prison to another does not infringe a protected liberty interest.' 445 U. S., at 489 (emphasis added). The Court's other cases describing Meachum and Montanye also have eschewed the narrow reading respondent now proposes. See Hewitt v. Helms, 459 U. S. 460, 467-468 (1983); Moody v. Daggett, 429 U. S. 78, 88, n. 9 (1976). [7] This statute has been invoked to transfer prisoners from Hawaii state facilities to federal prisons on the mainland. See Anthony v. Wilkinson, 637 F. 2d 1130 (CA7 1980), vacated and remanded sub nom. Hawaii v. Mederios, 453 U. S. 902 (1981). [8] After the decisions in Meachum and Montanye, courts almost uniformly have held that an inmate has no entitlement to remain in a prison in his home State. See Beshaw v. Fenton, 635 F. 2d 239, 246-247 (CA3 1980), cert. denied, 453 U. S. 912 (1981); Cofone v. Manson, 594 F. 2d 934, 937, n. 4 (CA2 1979); Sisbarro v. Warden, 592 F. 2d 1, 3 (CA1), cert. denied, 444 U. S. 849 (1979); Fletcher v. Warden, 467 F. Supp. 777, 779-780 (Kan. 1979); Curry-Bey v. Jackson, 422 F. Supp. 926, 931-933 (DC 1976); McDonnell v. United States Attorney General, 420 F. Supp. 217, 220 (ED Ill. 1976); Goodnow v. Perrin, 120 N. H. 669, 671, 421 A. 2d 1008, 1010 (1980); Girouard v. Hogan, 135 Vt. 448, 449-450, 378 A. 2d 105, 106-107 (1977); In re Young, 95 Wash. 2d 216, 227-228, 622 P. 2d 373, 379 (1980); cf. Fajeriak v. McGinnis, 493 F. 2d 468 (CA9 1974) (pre-Meachum transfers from Alaska to other States); Hillen v. Director of Department of Social Services, 455 F. 2d 510 (CA9), cert. denied, 409 U. S. 989 (1972) (pre-Meachum transfer from Hawaii to California). But see In re Young, 95 Wash. 2d, at 233, 622 P. 2d, at 382 (concurring opinion); State ex rel. Olson v. Maxwell, 259 N. W. 2d 621 (N. D. 1977); cf. Tai v. Thompson, 387 F. Supp. 912 (Haw. 1975) (pre-Meachum transfer). [9] Respondent's argument to the contrary is unpersuasive. The Court in Montanye took note that among the hardships that may result from a prison transfer are separation of the inmate from home and family, separation from inmate friends, placement in a new and possibly hostile environment, difficulty in making contact with counsel, and interruption of educational and rehabilitative programs. 427 U. S., at 241, n. 4. These are the same hardships respondent faces as a result of his transfer from Hawaii to California. Respondent attempts to analogize his transfer to banishment in the English sense of 'beyond the seas,' arguing that banishment surely is not within the range of confinement justified by his sentence. But respondent in no sense has been banished; his conviction, not the transfer, deprived him of his right freely to inhabit the State. The fact that his confinement takes place outside Hawaii is merely a fortuitous consequence of the fact that he must be confined, not an additional element of his punishment. See Girouard v. Hogan, 135 Vt., at 449-450, 378 A. 2d, at 106-107. Moreover, respondent has not been exiled; he remains within the United States. In essence, respondent's banishment argument simply restates his claim that a transfer from Hawaii to the mainland is different in kind from other transfers. As has been shown in the text, however, respondent's transfer was authorized by his conviction. A conviction, whether in Hawaii, Alaska, or one of the contiguous 48 States, empowers the State to confine the inmate in any penal institution in any State unless there is state law to the contrary or the reason for confining the inmate in a particular institution is itself constitutionally impermissible. See Montanye, 427 U. S., at 242; id., at 244 (dissenting opinion); Cruz v. Beto, 405 U. S. 319 (1972); Fajeriak v. McGinnis, 493 F. 2d, at 470. [10] In Hewitt v. Helms, 459 U. S. 460 (1983), unlike this case, state law limited the decisionmakers' discretion. To the extent the dissent doubts that the Administrator's discretion under Rule IV is truly unfettered, post, at 258, and n. 11, it doubts the ability or authority of Hawaii Supreme Court to construe state law. [11] In Meachum itself, the Court of Appeals had interpreted the applicable regulations as entitling inmates to a pretransfer hearing, see Fano v. Meachum, 520 F. 2d 374, 379-380 (CA1 1975), but this Court held that state law created no liberty interest. [12] Other courts agree that an expectation of receiving process is not, without more, a liberty interest protected by the Due Process Clause. See, e. g., United States v. Jiles, 658 F. 2d 194, 200 (CA3 1981), cert. denied, 455 U. S. 923 (1982); Bills v. Henderson, 631 F. 2d 1287, 1298-1299 (CA6 1980); Pugliese v. Nelson, 617 F. 2d 916, 924-925 (CA2 1980); Cofone v. Manson, 594 F. 2d, at 938; Lombardo v. Meachum"