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

You foul, lying, evil little cockroach!

Personal happiness lies in knowing that life is not a checklist of acquisition. Your qualifications are not your life.

Was it love when somebody filled a space in your life that yawned inside you, once they had gone?

Look, why don't you go talk to Ron about all this?" Harry asked. "Well, I would, but he's always asleep when I go and see him!" said Lavender fretfully. "Is he?" said Harry, surprised, for he had found Ron perfectly alert every time he had been up to the hospital wing.

Well?" Ron said finally, looking up at Harry. "How was it?" Harry considered it for a moment. "Wet," he said truthfully. Ron made a noise that might have indicated jubilation or disgust, it was hard to tell. "Because she was crying," Harry continued heavily. "Oh," said Ron, his smile faded slightly. "Are you that bad at kissing?" "Dunno," said Harry, who hadn't considered this, and immediately felt rather worried. "Maybe I am.

Raindrops the size of bullets thundered on the castle windows for days on end; the lake rose, the flower beds turned into muddy streams, and Hagrid’s pumpkins swelled to the size of garden sheds.