I've been writing my entire life, and I'll always write.

Hermione drew herself to her full height; her eyes were narrowed and her hair seemed to crackle with electricity. "No," she said, her voice quivering with anger, "but I will write to your mother.

Perhaps you have been looking in the wrong places.

The exceptions were two men a little ahead of them, standing just outside the Three Broomsticks. One was very tall and thin; squinting through his rain-washed glasses Harry recognized the barman who worked in the other Hogsmeade pub, the Hog’s Head. As Harry, Ron, and Hermione drew closer, the barman drew his cloak more tightly around his neck and walked away, leaving the shorter man to fumble with something in his arms. They were barely feet from him when Harry realized who the man was. “Mundungus!

Just because you’re allowed to use magic now you don’t have to whip your wands out for every tiny little thing!

There's nothing better when something comes and hits you and you think 'YES'!

Honestly, if you were any slower, you’d be going backward.