What's the worst that could happen? Everyone turned me down; big deal.

Sometimes ideas just come to me. Other times I have to sweat and almost bleed to make ideas come. It's a mysterious process, but I hope I never find out exactly how it works.

Karakarof spat onto the ground at Dumbledore's feet. In one swift movement, Hagrid seized the front of Karkaroff's furs, lifted him into the air, and slammed him against a nearby tree.

Look . . . at . . . me. . . .

He might have crawled up into the airing cupboard and died, but I mustn't get my hopes up.

I didn't write with a target audience in mind. What excited me was how much I would enjoy writing about Harry. I never thought about writing for children - children's books chose me. I think if it is a good book anyone will read it.

Turn to page three hundred and ninety-four.