I've Been Writing Since I Was Six.

Hedwig Didn't Return Until The End Of The Easter Holidays. Percy's Letter Was Enclosed In A Package Of Easter Eggs That Mrs. Weasley Had Sent. Both Harry's And Ron's Were The Size Of Dragon Eggs, And Full Of Home-made Toffee. Hermione's, However, Was Smaller Than A Chicken's Egg. Her Face Fell When She Saw It. "your Mum Doesn't Read Witch's Weekly, By Any Chance, Does She, Ron?" She Asked Quietly. "yeah," Said Ron, Whose Mouth Was Full Of Toffee. "gets It For The Recipes." Hermione Looked Sadly At Her Tiny Egg.

Honestly, Woman, You Call Yourself Our Mother?

Enter, Stranger, But Take Heed Of What Awaits The Sin Of Greed, For Those Who Take, But Do Not Earn, Must Pay Most Dearly In Their Turn. So If You Seek Beneath Our Floors A Treasure That Was Never Yours, Thief, You Have Been Warned, Beware Of Finding More Than Treasure There.

A Lemon Drop. They're A Kind Of Muggle Sweet I'm Rather Fond Of.

Whatever Happens To Your Body, Your Soul Will Survive, Untouched.