What’s Comin’ Will Come, An’ We’ll Meet

I Love You, Hermione,” Said Ron, Sinking Back, Rubbing His Eyes Wearily. Hermione Turned Faintly Pink, But Merely Said, “don’t Let Lavender Hear You Saying That.” “i Won’t,” Said Ron Into His Hands. “or Maybe I Will . . . Then She’ll Ditch Me . . .

Harry: "and What If I Wave My Wand And Nothing Happens?” Ron: “throw It Away And Punch Him On The Nose.

Why Can’t I Drink The Potion Instead?” Asked Harry Desperately. “because I Am Much Older, Much Cleverer, And Much Less Valuable,” Said Dumbledore.

I Have Been Careless, And So Have Been Thwarted By Luck And Chance, Those Wreckers Of All But The Best Laid Plans.

Naturally Shirley Had Known, As They Slid Stock Words And Phrases Back And Forth Between Them Like Beads On An Abacus, That Howard Must Be As Brimful Of Ecstasy As She Was; But To Express These Feelings Out Loud, When The News Of Death Was Still Fresh In The Air, Would Have Been Tantamount To Dancing Naked And Shrieking Obscenities, And Howard And Shirley Were Clothed, Always, In An Invisible Layer Of Decorum That They Never Laid Aside.