When Filch wasn't guarding the scene of the crime, he was skulking red-eyed through the corridors, lunging out at unsuspecting students and trying to put them in detention for things like "breathing loudly" and "looking happy.

Autumn seemed to arrive suddenly that year. The morning of the first September was crisp and golden as an apple.

Be good now, Potty...Weasel King.

Some wounds run too deep for the healing.

Fred and George turned to each other and said together, "Wow, we're identical!" "I dunno though, I think I'm still better looking," said Fred, examining his reflection in the kettle.

Everything was curved to fit the walls: the stove, the sink and the cupboards, and all of it had been painted with flowers, insects and birds in bright primary colours.

Harry had the impression that even the barman was listening in. He was wiping the same glass with the filthy rag; it was becoming steadily dirtier.