You See What You Expect To See,

The Hippogriff Took Off Into The Air. . . . He And His Rider Became Smaller And Smaller As Harry Gazed After Them . . . Then A Cloud Drifted Across The Moon. . . . They Were Gone.

Harry Looked Down And Saw Deep Green Mountains And Lakes, Coppery In The Sunset.

I Am Not A Particularly Thick-skinned Person.

Harry Moved The Tip Of His Eagle-feather Quill Down The Page, Frowning As He Looked For Something That Would Help Him Write His Essay, “witch Burning In The Fourteenth Century Was Completely Pointless — Discuss.

Don't Be Sorry, My Dear Sir, For Nothing Could Upset Me Today! Rejoice, For You-know-who Is Gone At Last! Even Muggles Like Yourself Should Be Celebrating This Happy, Happy Day.