You Foul, Lying, Evil Little Cockroach!

Long Ago, When Harry Had Been Left Alone While The Dursley's Went Out To Enjoy Themselves, The Hours Of Solitude Had Been A Rare Treat: Pausing Only To Sneak Something Tasty From The Fridge, He Had Rushed Upstairs To Play On Dudley's Computer, Or Put On The Television And Flicked Through The Channels To His Heart's Content. It Gave Him An Odd Empty Feeling To Remember Those Times; It Was Like Remembering A Younger Brother Whom He Had Lost.

And The Idea Of Just Wandering Off To A Cafe With A Notebook And Writing And Seeing Where That Takes Me For Awhile Is Just Bliss.

Someone Creeping Into His Yard In The Dead Of Night? More Likely There's A Very Shell-shocked Cat Wandering Somewhere, Covered In Potato Peelings.

You're The One Who Is Weak. You Will Never Know Love Or Friendship. And I Feel Sorry For You.

I've Wanted To Be An Author As Long As I Can Remember. English Was Always My Favorite Subject At School, So Why I Went On To Do A Degree In French Is Anyone's Guess.