Howard was almost as fond of this hall as he was of his own shop. The Brownies used it on Tuesdays, and the Women's Institute on Wednesdays. It had hosted jumble sales and Jubilee celebrations, wedding receptions and wakes, and it smelled of all of these things: of stale clothes and coffee urns, and the ghosts of home-baked cakes and meat salads; of dust and human bodies; but primarily of aged wood and stone.
J. K. RowlingThere was a brief silence in which the distant echo of Hagrid smashing down a wooden front door seemed to reverberate through the intervening years.
J. K. RowlingSome say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say heโs still out there, bidinโ his time, like, but I donโ believe it.
J. K. Rowling