Don't Let The Muggles Get You Down.

The Opportunity Was Too Perfect To Miss. Harry Crept Silently Around Behind Malfoy, Crabbe, And Goyle, Bent Down, And Scooped A Large Handful Of Mud Out Of The Path. 'we Were Just Talking About Your Friend Hagrid,' Malfoy Said To Ron. 'just Trying To Imagine What He's Saying To The Committee For The Disposal Of Dangerous Creatures. D'you Think He'll Cry When They Cut Off His Hippogriff's—' Splat. Malfoy's Head Jerked Back As The Mud Hit Him; His Silverblond Hair Was Suddenly Dripping In Muck.

If Someone Asked For My Recipe For Happiness, Step One Would Be Finding Out What You Love Most In The World And Step Two Would Be Finding Someone To Pay You To Do It. I Consider Myself Very Lucky Indeed To Be Able To Support Myself By Writing.

Harry's Status As Orphan Gives Him A Freedom Other Children Can Only Dream About (guiltily, Of Course). No Child Wants To Lose Their Parents, Yet The Idea Of Being Removed From The Expectations Of Parents Is Alluring. The Orphan In Literature Is Freed From The Obligation To Satisfy His/her Parents, And From The Inevitable Realization That His/her Parents Are Flawed Human Beings. There Is Something Liberating, Too, About Being Transported Into The Kind Of Surrogate Family Which Boarding School Represents, Where The Relationships Are Less Intense And The Boundaries Perhaps More Clearly Defined.

Oh No You Don’t, Laddie!” Harry Spun Around. Professor Moody Was Limping Down The Marble Staircase. His Wand Was Out And It Was Pointing Right At A Pure White Ferret, Which Was Shivering On The Stone-flagged Floor, Exactly Where Malfoy Had Been Standing.

He Knew One Thing Only, And It Was Beyond Fear Or Reason: He Was Not Going To Die Crouching Here Like A Child Playing Hide-and-seek; He Was Not Going To Die Kneeling At Voldemort’s Feet . . . He Was Going To Die Upright Like His Father, And He Was Going To Die Trying To Defend Himself, Even If No Defense Was Possible. . . .