This Is Night, Diddykins. That's What We

Mr. Moony Presents His Compliments To Professor Snape, And Begs Him To Keep His Abnormally Large Nose Out Of Other People's Business. Mr. Prongs Agrees With Mr. Moony, And Would Like To Add That Professor Snape Is An Ugly Git. Mr. Padfoot Would Like To Register His Astonishment That An Idiot Like That Ever Became A Professor. Mr. Wormtail Bids Professor Snape Good Day, And Advises Him To Wash His Hair, The Slimeball.

I Say There Are Spots That Don't Come Off.... Spots That Never Come Off, D'you Know What I Mean?

We Did It, We Bashed Them Wee Potter's The One, And Voldy's Gone Moldy, So Now Let's Have Fun!

Do You Mean Ter Tell Me," He Growled At The Dursleys, "that This Boy—this Boy!—knows Nothin' Abou'—about Anything?" Harry Thought This Was Going A Bit Far. He Had Been To School, After All, And His Marks Weren't Bad. I Know Some Things," He Said. "i Can, You Know, Do Math And Stuff.

Somewhere Out In The Darkness, A Phoenix Was Singing In A Way Harry Had Never Heard Before: A Stricken Lament Of Terrible Beauty. And Harry Felt, As He Had Felt About Phoenix Song Before, That The Music Was Inside Him, Not Without: It Was His Own Grief Turned Magically To Song.