I Don't Take Any Responsibility For The

I Had An American Journalist Say To Me, "is It True You Wrote The Whole Of The First Novel On Napkins?" I Was Tempted To Say, "on Teabags, I Used To Save Them.

A Bag Of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. "you Want To Be Careful With Those," Ron Warned Harry. "when They Say Every Flavor, They Mean Every Flavor - You Know, You Get All The Ordinary Ones Like Chocolate And Peppermint And Marmalade, But Then You Can Get Spinach And Liver And Tripe. George Reckons He Had A Booger-flavored One Once." Ron Picked Up A Green Bean, Looked At It Carefully, And Bit Into A Corner. "bleaaargh - See? Sprouts.

Devil’s Snare, Devil’s Snare . . . What Did Professor Sprout Say? — It Likes The Dark And The Damp —” “so Light A Fire!” Harry Choked. “yes — Of Course — But There’s No Wood!” Hermoine Cried, Wringing Her Hands. “have You Gone Mad?” Ron Bellowed. “are You A Witch Or Not?

I Write Nearly Every Day. Some Days I Write For Ten Or Eleven Hours. Other Days I Might Only Write For Three Hours. It Really Depends On How Fast The Ideas Are Coming.

The Hook-nosed Teacher Looked Past Quirrell’s Turban Straight Into Harry’s Eyes — And A Sharp, Hot Pain Shot Across The Scar On Harry’s Forehead.