Why Would I Go Looking For Someone

Neville Kicked Aside The Broken Fragments Of His Own Wand As They Walked Slowly Toward The Door. "my Gran's Going Do Kill Be," Said Neville Thickly, Blood Spattering From His Nose As He Spoke, "dat Was By Dad's Old Wand.

The Hallows, The Hallows. A Desperate Man’s Dream!

Ron, We're Supposed To Show The First Years Where To Go!" "oh Yeah," Said Ron, Who Had Obviously Forgotten. "hey -- Hey You Lot! Midgets!

Yes, Alive,” Said Fudge. “that Is — I Don’t Know — Is A Man Alive If He Can’t Be Killed? I Don’t Really Understand It, And Dumbledore Won’t Explain Properly — But Anyway, He’s Certainly Got A Body And Is Walking And Talking And Killing, So I Suppose, For The Purposes Of Our Discussion, Yes, He’s Alive.

I’ll Make Goyle Do Lines, It’ll Kill Him, He Hates Writing,” Said Ron Happily. He Lowered His Voice To Goyle’s Low Grunt And, Screwing Up His Face In A Look Of Pained Concentration, Mimed Writing In Midair. “i... Must... Not... Look... Like... A... Baboon’s... Backside.