Let’s see . . . ah, yes, this is nice and cozy.” It was a broom cupboard.

Harry, despite your privileged insight into Voldemort’s world (which, incidentally, is a gift any Death Eater would kill to have), you have never been seduced by the Dark Arts, never, even for a second, shown the slightest desire to become one of Voldemort’s followers!” “Of course I haven’t!” said Harry indignantly. “He killed my mum and dad!” “You are protected, in short, by your ability to love!” said Dumbledore loudly.

Harry Potter has kindly joined us for my rebirthing party. One might go so far as to call him my guest of honor.

The scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well.

Power was my weakness and my temptation.

He yearned not to feel... He wished he could rip out his heart, his innards, everything that was screaming inside him.

Just then Neville caused a slight diversion by turning into a large canary.