Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!

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

Gavin saw a grave purely as a marker for the place where a corpse was decomposing; a nasty thought, yet people took it into their heads to visit and bring flowers, as though it might yet recover.

You lose your individuality a huge amount when you have no money, and I certainly had that experience.

Hang on. This Lord Voldything's back you say?... and now he's sending dismembers after you?... I see. Well that settles it, YOU CAN GET OUT OF THIS HOUSE BOY!

It was strange how your brain could know what your heart refused to accept.

Help only comes to those who ask for it.