Professor,” Harry gasped. “Your bird — I couldn’t do anything — he just caught fire —

Now, I don’t want any of you youngsters to worry — you’ll still have your Potions master when I’m through with him, never fear!” “Wouldn’t it be good if they finished each other off?” Ron muttered in Harry’s ear.

And Death spoke to them —’” “Sorry,” interjected Harry, “but Death spoke to them?” “It’s a fairy tale, Harry!” “Right, sorry. Go on.

And do I look like the kind of man that can be intimidated?" barked Uncle Vernon. "Well..." said Moody, pushing back his bowler hat to reveal his sinisterly revolving eye. Uncle Vernon lept backward in horror and collided painfully with a luggage trolley. "Yes, I'd have to say you do, Dursley.

Severus Snape wasn't yours," said Harry. "Snape was Dumbledores, Dumbledores from the moment you started hunting down my mother.

It was so good to be held. If only their relationship could be distilled into simple, wordless gestures of comfort. Why had humans ever learned to talk?

To hurt is as human as to breathe.