Failure Means A Stripping Away Of The

He Did Not Know Or Care Whether They Were Wizards Or Muggles, Friends Or Foes; All He Cared About Was That A Dark Stain Was Spreading Across Dobby's Front, And That He Had Stretched Out His Thin Arms To Harry With A Look Of Supplication. Harry Caught Him And Laid Him Sideways On The Cool Grass. "dobby, No, Don't Die, Don't Die -" The Elf's Eyes Found Him, And His Lips Trembled With The Effort To Form Words. "harry...potter..." And Then With A Little Shudder The Elf Became Quite Still, And His Eyes Were Nothing More Than Great Glassy Orbs, Sprinkled With Light From The Stars They Could Not See.

Once Again I Must Ask Too Much Of You, Harry.

His Eyes Are As Green As A Fresh Pickled Toad, His Hair Is As Dark As A Blackboard. I Wish He Was Mine, He's Really Divine, The Hero Who Conquered The Dark Lord.

She Navigated Away From The Parish Council Message Board And Dropped Into Her Favorite Medical Website, Where She Painstakingly Entered The Words "brain" And "death" In The Search Box. The Suggestions Were Endless. Shirley Scrolled Through The Possibilities, Her Mild Eyes Rolling Up And Down, Wondering To Which Of These Deadly Conditions, Some Of Them Unpronounceable, She Owed Her Present Happiness.

I Have Met Thousands Of Children Now, And Not Even One Time Has A Child Come Up To Me And Said, 'ms. Rowling, I'm So Glad I've Read These Books Because Now I Want To Be A Witch.'