The idea of a teenage Dumbledore was simply odd, like trying to imagine a stupid Hermione or a friendly Blast-Ended Skrewt.

Once again you've put your keen and penetrating mind to the task and as usual come to the wrong conclusion!

Achievable goals are the first step to self improvement.

He yearned not to feel... He wished he could rip out his heart, his innards, everything that was screaming inside him.

This exchange marked the beginning of Mr. Malfoy's long campaign to have me removed from my post as headmaster of Hogwarts, and of mine to have him removed from his position as Lord Voldemort's Favorite Death Eater. My response prompted several further letters from Mr. Malfoy, but as they consisted mainly of opprobrious remarks on my sanity, parentage, and hygiene, their relevance to this commentary is remote.

I'm dying!" Malfoy yelled, as the class panicked. "I'm dying, look at me! It's killed me!

Death's got an Invisibility Cloak?" Harry interrupted again. "So he can sneak up on people," said Ron. "Sometimes he gets bored of running at them, flapping his arms and shrieking.