I Think The Harry Books Are Actually

There Was A Lot More To Magic, As Harry Quickly Found Out, Than Waving Your Wand And Saying A Few Funny Words.

Harry Ran Upstairs To Their Dark Dormitory. He Pulled Out The Cloak And Then His Eyes Fell On The Flute Hagrid Had Given Him For Christmas. He Pocketed It To Use On Fluffy — He Didn’t Feel Much Like Singing.

It Was His Own Grief Turned Magically To Song.

But I Got This Far, Didn’t I?” He Said Slowly. “they Thought I’d Die In The Attempt, But I’m Here . . . And You’re In My Power. . . . I’m The One With The Wand. . . . You’re At My Mercy. . .

It's Going To Be All Right, Sir," Harry Said Over And Over Again, More Worried By Dumbledore's Silence Than He Had Been By His Weakened Voice. "we're Nearly There ... I Can Apparate Us Both Back ... Don't Worry ..." "i Am Not Worried, Harry," Said Dumbledore, His Voice A Little Stronger Despite The Freezing Water. "i Am With You.