There Was A Brief Silence In Which

Mr. And Mrs. Dursley, Of Number Four, Privet Drive, Were Proud To Say That They Were Perfectly Normal, Thank You Very Much. They Were The Last People You'd Expect To Be Involved In Anything Strange Or Mysterious, Because They Just Didn't Hold With Such Nonsense.

Well?" Ron Said Finally, Looking Up At Harry. "how Was It?" Harry Considered It For A Moment. "wet," He Said Truthfully. Ron Made A Noise That Might Have Indicated Jubilation Or Disgust, It Was Hard To Tell. "because She Was Crying," Harry Continued Heavily. "oh," Said Ron, His Smile Faded Slightly. "are You That Bad At Kissing?" "dunno," Said Harry, Who Hadn't Considered This, And Immediately Felt Rather Worried. "maybe I Am.

I Solemnly Swear That I Am Up To No Good.

Neville Will Play Quidditch For England Before Hagrid Lets Dumbledore Down.

Overload 'em With Information An' They'll Kill Yeh Jus' To Simplify Things.