The Long Game Was Ended, The Snitch

The Opportunity Was Too Perfect To Miss. Harry Crept Silently Around Behind Malfoy, Crabbe, And Goyle, Bent Down, And Scooped A Large Handful Of Mud Out Of The Path. 'we Were Just Talking About Your Friend Hagrid,' Malfoy Said To Ron. 'just Trying To Imagine What He's Saying To The Committee For The Disposal Of Dangerous Creatures. D'you Think He'll Cry When They Cut Off His Hippogriff's—' Splat. Malfoy's Head Jerked Back As The Mud Hit Him; His Silverblond Hair Was Suddenly Dripping In Muck.

I Have Never Been Remotely Ashamed Of Having Been Depressed. Never. What's To Be Ashamed Of? I Went Through A Really Rough Time And I Am Quite Proud That I Got Out Of That.

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.

Mr. And Mrs. Dursley, Of Number Four Privet Drive, Were Proud To Say That They Were Perfectly Normal, Thank You Very Much.

There,” She Said Softly. “now He Could Be Sleeping.