Does it hurt?" The childish question had escaped Harry's lips before he could stop it. "Dying? Not at all," said Sirius. "Quicker and easier than falling asleep.

but the idea of the Dark Lord in possesion of the Deathstick is, I must admit, formidable.

Where are you heading, if you’ve got the choice?” James lifted an invisible sword. “‘Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!’ Like my dad.” Snape made a small, disparaging noise. James turned on him. “Got a problem with that?” “No,” said Snape, though his slight sneer said otherwise. “If you’d rather be brawny than brainy —” “Where’re you hoping to go, seeing as you’re neither?” interjected Sirius.

Oh, come off it,” said Ron, striding over to her and whipping her results out of her hand. “Yep— ten ‘Outstandings’ and one ‘Exceeds Expectations’ at Defense Against the Dark Arts.” He looked down at her, half-amused, half-exasperated. “You’re actually disappointed, aren’t you?

The mind is a complex and many-layered thing, Potter... or at least, most minds are.

I'm a writer, and I will write what I want to write.

I really don't believe in magic.