I Don't Feel I Owe My Readers

I'm Not So Naive That I Didn't Know Or Didn't Suspect That, At Some Point, Someone Was Going To Say "you're Writing About The Occult." My Wizarding World Is A World Of Imagination. I Think It Is A Moral World.

Are — You — Insane?” Said Hermione In A Hushed Voice. 'i Don't Think So,' Said Harry, Shrugging.

Fred, You Next," The Plump Woman Said. "i'm Not Fred, I'm George," Said The Boy. "honestly, Woman, You Call Yourself Our Mother? Can't You Tell I'm George?" "sorry, George, Dear." "only Joking, I Am Fred," Said The Boy And Off He Went.

Where Are You Heading, If You’ve Got The Choice?” James Lifted An Invisible Sword. “‘gryffindor, Where Dwell The Brave At Heart!’ Like My Dad.” Snape Made A Small, Disparaging Noise. James Turned On Him. “got A Problem With That?” “no,” Said Snape, Though His Slight Sneer Said Otherwise. “if You’d Rather Be Brawny Than Brainy —” “where’re You Hoping To Go, Seeing As You’re Neither?” Interjected Sirius.

Harry Looked Around; There Was Ginny Running Toward Him; She Had A Hard Blazing Look In Her Face As She Threw Her Arms Around Him. And Without Thinking, Without Planning It, Without Worrying About The Fact That Fifty People Were Watching, Harry Kissed Her. After Several Long Moments, Or It Might Have Been Half An Hour-or Possibly Several Sunlit Days- They Broke Apart.